The Things Worth Protecting

by Hearthside

Summary:

Percy Jackson-Wayne was taken in by Bruce Wayne after Batman rescued him from his abusive step father, Gabe. He grew up with two amazing older brothers, Dick and Jason. Anytime he got into trouble, his family was always there to bail him out. Monsters avoided Gotham (something about the crazy people), so his childhood was fairly peaceful.

Things changed when Jason died. His Dad shut him out and sent him off to boarding school. Soon, Monsters started showing up, and he only got in more trouble. Eventually he ended up at Yancy Academy and befriended a boy named Grover.

It all went to crap from there: Gods, Quests, Wars, Giants, even Tartarus.

Now, after years of fights and running, Percy just wants to come home for real. He misses his Dad, his brothers, his home. He literally went to Hell and back, now all he wants is to be with his family.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Damian

Notes:

Y'all, this is my first published fic. After years of writing and leaving them to die in a folder, I am finally sharing one with the world. I am vulnerable. Please be nice to me.

Damian had nothing to worry about. There was nothing in the world that could threaten him. He was Damian Al Ghoul Wayne, Heir to the League, son of the Bat, Master of Combat, Keeper of Titus, only child allowed in the kitchen by Alfred. He had absolutely nothing to fear, yet something kept itching at the back of his mind. There was something off at the manor, something up with his family.

Summer was ending. Richard had been quieter lately, Todd had been by the manor three times in the past week, and Drake had been sleeping. Sleeping. Willingly. Bruce had even taken a short leave of absence from Batman. There was something that was keeping his family from performing as usual, and it had everything to do with that boy.

Perseus Wanye, formerly known as Perseus Jackson, was an enigma to the public. He had occasionally attended events in his first few years at Wayne Manor, but slowly he disappeared from public view. By the time he was 12, he had completely fallen off the radar. When Drake was taken in, his name briefly appeared in a few articles, “The Disappearing Wayne Child” or “Bruce Wayne's Third Adoption: The Child you forgot about.” But since there was no source for new information to spill to the public, the press moved on to fresh meat and fake drama. Every once and a while, his name would pop up, but it never garnered much attention. With the lack of appearances, some people even speculated that Jackson had died, though the official story was that he had been attending boarding school elsewhere.

Now, all that remained of Jackson was government records, a small wikipedia page, and oddly enough, a dedicated subreddit? (Damian was pretty sure that it was all fake, considering there was a whole discussion on whether it was more impressive to kill the Minator or survive fighting Ares, and it used the wrong name.) To the world outside his family, Perseus Wayne was of no importance; Just a fleeting figure forgotten by the public.

It was a completely different story once you stepped inside the Manor. Despite being the second youngest of the family, Jackson had been around nearly as long as Todd. There were pictures and portraits hanging on the walls, half filled journals and forgotten coloring books in the library, a hand painted coffee mug and a misshapen clay bowl in the third cupboard, and a locked room with a blue door that no one dared enter.

Jackson’s existence was undeniable in the Manor, his traces were everywhere Damian looked. His fingerprints are in every room. He really was a part of the manor. It was frustrating sometimes, but almost endearing at others.

Jackson’s presence was not only alive in the Manor, but also in the stories shared by his older brothers. Richard had mentioned in an off-handed comment that “Percy” was the one who painted the blue mustache on Jeremy Wayne III. Todd could barely make microwave ramen without burning something, and yet he could make blue chocolate chip cookies without a recipe. Drake had once bemoaned how he had never managed to win a prank war, and laughed about how he had even lost to a civilian, multiple times. Jackson was alive in the stories that Damian heard from his brothers. He was young and mischievous, loyal and hopeful, he was loved.

Damian was not going to lie to himself, at one point, he had resented Jackson. A boy who had earned a place in father’s heart, without any training or skill or useful abilities. A fool who could not see who his father really was. An immature child who only caused problems. It was almost insulting to consider Jackson a part of his family. And yet… as time went on, Damian resented him less and less.

What once was a competitor, was now an example. If Jackson could earn a photo in father’s study for managing to destroy a school bus with a cannon ball, then perhaps Damian should not worry so much about causing problems at school. If the memory of Jackson could make Todd smile as he watches the little mermaid for the twentieth time, then perhaps it was an acceptable activity to read some of Todd’s favorite books in order to discuss the expressed and implied themes of social justice in the classical era. If Jackson could fight a bully who was picking on a child with a chronic illness without any training or backup, Damian could learn to stand against villains who would hurt the weak regardless of his childhood.

Jackson had changed from competitor to an example in less than two years, and yet Damian still felt like he was missing out.

Perhaps he had never known Jackson; Perhaps they would never meet; But that did not mean that Damian did not want to learn about him. Damian wanted to be a full member of this family, and that meant he had to learn about it. He needed to learn all of its messy history and sad beginnings. He wanted to understand. Jackson was a large piece of the Wayne’s family history that Damian had been kept away from, and he would not stand for it. He was going to learn everything there is to know about his missing brother, Perseus Wayne.

Notes:

So… Damian! I really was curious how he would feel about having a “civilian” sibling, and how he would react to this person he had never really interacted with. I personally feel that Damian has a lot of respect for people who live normal lives and are completely satisfied with them. As Damian lost his whole “if you do not prove your worth, you will be abandoned” thing and accepted that his family’s love is unconditional, he really started to see Percy from a new perspective. A kid who came from a bad situation at a young age, and had to adapt to a whole new world.

The thing is, even if all of his other siblings have that same story, Damian is living with the “final form” of those trauma babies. Damian can’t really relate to that. However, Percy never really had that shot, or at the very least, Damian never interacted with a super adjusted version of Percy, and instead heard about all of Percy’s issues. As he started to relate more, his perspective changed and he began to wonder about what happened to Percy and why no one talks about him. Get ready for an investigation!

Really, I just love the idea of Damian finding peace in hearing how much Percy messed up and was still loved. I know I did. It was nice to hear about a hero who was an absolute mess sometimes, but still tried their best for the people they loved and got rewarded for it.

Also, while writing this chapter, I discovered that subreddit was one word. Well okay then. I love the idea of Demigods using reddit and tumblr to have serious discussions because no one will take them seriously on those sites.

Thanks so much for reading. Please leave kudos and comments. They feed me.

Chapter 2: Percy’s Interlude: Seven Years-old

Notes:

Y'all are so nice! I never imagined so many people would read this fic literally the same day it was posted.
Thanks for commenting. It really helped motivate me. Read on!

Percy Jackson loved the Ocean. It was the best place on earth, even in Gotham where the ocean was highly toxic. Every time there was a rare sunny day in Gotham, his mother would take him to Amusement Mile and they would walk along the pier.

Those were the very best days of his early life. They didn’t have much money for food or games, but Percy was just happy to be with his mother, by the beach, and away from Smelly Gabe. She would bring bags of blue candy from work, and they would sit on a bench and watch the people go by. Sometimes they would try to guess things about the people; If they could swim, their favorite color, their least favorite rouge…

They could spend hours just watching people go by and never get bored. His mom was the best mom on the whole planet.

The only days that were better than those rare sunny days were when his mother would take him up to the beach house at Montauk. Sometimes they would stay there for a whole week. The ocean up in New York was actually “okay” to swim in, so Percy would spend pretty much the whole day in the water. At night, they would roast marshmallows and his mom would tell him stories. She would talk about his dad, her childhood, or even tell stories about heroes and constellations. Those were the happiest days of his life.

Percy wondered if anyone at the beach would notice when they didn’t come this year.

He shivered once again. Gabe had locked him outside because he caught Percy sitting on the fire escape. Percy had been out there hoping to take advantage of the clear sky to go stargazing. Now he was going to be stuck outside for the rest of the night. Percy could probably try to sneak back in the front door, but there was no guarantee that Gabe would be asleep.

Rather than getting hit with a bottle, it would be better to wait until morning. Gabe had gotten a job since his mom died, and he had to leave in the morning. Then Percy could use the spare key to get into the house.

He was lucky it was summer. The cold wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been, and he had brought a blanket out with him when he first came out to the fire escape. On the upside, maybe he could get away with stargazing a bit more tonight.

Hours passed and Percy started drifting off, when suddenly he heard a kind of ‘swishing’ sound. He glanced around, then spotted Batman, THE Batman on the other roof! Percy scanned the nearby roofs looking for Robin, but he was nowhere to be found. ‘Maybe they got into a fight? I hope Robin is okay.’ Percy stared at the caped crusader as he stared out at the city. ‘Batman looks kind of sad…’

After only a few minutes, Batman leapt off the roof and disappeared into the night. Percy felt a little disappointed that he left, but that was fine. Maybe I’ll see Batman again some day! (Maybe someday he’ll come and save me.)

The dark knight was gone and he was left alone again with no company but the stars. Percy shivered again, and lay back down on the cold metal, wrapping the blanket around himself. Tomorrow was another day. (Gods, tomorrow was another day)

Notes:

Batman: Dick is mad at me, but he'll get over it... probably.
Percy: *Vibe checks the Batman*... Why he sad? :(

Percy’s perspective! Sorry I had to kill Sally guys, it’s *for the plot*. Percy has been living with Gabe, and Gabe is getting worse, and Percy doesn’t know what to do. His whole, sassy little shiitake mushroom gig is kinda getting beat out of him right now, so he’s quieted down a bit. It’s just survival skills.

It’s gonna get worse before it gets better. There is one more chapter of major childhood trauma before the adoption™. I may post it soon because I am very proud of that chapter.

Chapter 3: Chapter 2: Tim

Notes:

Y'all are so nice! I never expected this much of a reaction for this self indulgent crossover but y'all are motivating me to keep going! Thank you so much. I try to read every comment if I can, so keep it up! Enjoy the chapter!

Somedays, Tim really misses Percy. As awesome as having a family of only vigilantes is, it can have its challenges. For example, when your entire family works until 4:00 AM, but you are the only one with a day job that requires you to be in the office at 8:00 AM, they can be a bit judgy about your caffeine consumption.

Or, because everyone in the room is able to cross a major city only on rooftops, it’s perfectly acceptable to declare the floor is lava in the middle of movie night and then use a hologram machine to turn the floor into actual lava, interrupting the one person in the house who was actually working on something important. (And Tim was not about to fall into the Lava. He wasn’t a loser).

And since every single person in this freaking house is a trained detective, Tim's latest plan to sleep and work his way through the week of Percy’s birthday is not going over very well.

“Tim. You should talk to someone.” Dick’s concerned voice went in one ear and out the other, but it was still annoying. “Even just Bruce. This isn’t healthy.” Tim glanced up from the budget proposal he was putting together for a board meeting tomorrow, and gave Dick the biggest eye roll he could manage.

Dick had been pestering him for nearly two days. Apparently, sleeping and catching up on work was concerning behavior. Tim had come out of his room to work in the kitchen in the hopes that Dick would take the hint that Tim was fine and leave him alone for a few hours. Unfortunately, his hope was in vain.

“Dick. I’m fine.” Tim leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up in the air. “Seriously! Why won’t you believe me!” Dick raised an eyebrow and Tim nearly jumped over the table. Deciding that copying Jason wasn’t a good way to convince Dick he was fine, he took a few steady breaths and tried again. Gesturing down to his laptop, he gave an exasperated excuse. “It’s just, unlike the rest of this family, I have a full time job to worry about.”

Dick raised his eyebrows and Tim sighed again, (he was doing that a lot today), trying to turn back to his proposal. The excuse was valid. Tim was working on stuff for Wayne Industries. Dick did not need to know all the little details, such as this report was basically busy work, and Tim didn’t need to be the one to do this. (He had secretaires for a reason.) He just needed to get Dick off his back. Tim was being productive and getting sleep. That should be a good sign, right?

Unfortunately, Dick didn’t seem to agree.

“Tim, I have known you for five years. During that time, you have only, and I mean only, ever slept when forced or depressed. And since I know for a fact that Alfred is not extorting you, I am getting concerned!” Dick squatted down to get eye level with Tim, slowly pressing his laptop closed. His voice seemed oddly urgent. “I know this time of year is hard, and I know you have a dumb tendency to blame yourself for these kinds of things, but this isn’t what Percy would want for you!”

The moment Percy’s name left Dick’s mouth, the room fell deathly silent. Dick must have realized his mistake, because he stood up and backed off nearly immediately.

“Sorry, Tim. I didn’t mean to say that-”

Tim didn’t let him finish his sentence. He grabbed the now closed laptop and the tea he was drinking and headed right for the door. ‘I don’t have to listen to this. Not right now.’ His throat felt dry and his eyes felt wet. Why couldn’t his family just let him be sad alone? He never had this kind of issue with his old family.

Tim was sure that Dick would try to stop him, but he moved too quickly for Dick to have any chance. He didn’t look back, he didn’t want to see if Dick looked as hurt as Tim was.

He stormed upstairs, headed for his room. Portraits and hallways went by in the background and eventually his breathing calmed. His pace slowed once he reached the third floor, but he kept moving. He made his way towards the residential room, however, as he passed the east facing guest rooms, he stopped. Up ahead, on the left, was Percy’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and Tim could almost smell the ocean.

The memories came suddenly, and without permission.

“Can you smell that, Tim? Alfred helped me set it up when I first moved in. The Ocean is the best smell, by far. When Dad finally gets his crap together and lets you move in, I can totally help you set something like this up in your new room…”

Tim drifted forward, only semi-conscious of his own movement. The smell of the ocean grew stronger and Tim half expected to open the door and see Percy sitting on the floor fidgeting with laptop.

 

“This is really too much Tim. I get that you want to get me something nice, and I get that your parents were loaded, but a laptop?!” Percy looked down at the box in his hands. “This is too much for a Christmas present. You should return it.” Percy looked down again at the package and frowned. “Plus, I’m pretty sure technology and I are not compatible. I blew up my last phone.”

In what felt like mere moments, Tim found himself standing outside Percy’s room. Hesitantly, he reached towards the door, bracing himself before glancing through the crack in the doorway.

…

Whoever he expected to be in that room, it wasn’t Damian. The demon was sitting on the floor, flipping through one of Percy’s journals.

Huh. Tim wasn’t aware that Percy had ever gotten around to filling one of those.

“Don’t make fun of me! I’m going to do it this time, for real!” Percy pouted just a little bit at Dick’s teasing. “I am gonna keep a journal. The counselor at school said it would help me remember things easier, and I am required to bring it into our sessions now. I have to fill it in!” Percy looked down at the notebook, a little exasperated. “As if that’s going to fix my ADHD…”

Tim watched from the doorway as Damian flipped through the journal for several minutes. He felt like he was watching something… private. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Damian’s face showed deep concentration, as if there was some secret code written in the journal. (Though Tim suspected anything written by Percy would be pretty difficult to follow.)

A good amount of time went by, Damian reading and Tim watching from the doorway. Both of them lost in memories, caught in a spell cast by the empty presence of Percy. Tim wondered what Damian thought of the older brother he had never met.

Tim wasn’t sure how much Damian knew about Percy, probably not much. Percy, sweet, clueless, Percy. He was a civilian through and through, but he definitely had a Bat’s percipience for attracting trouble. In the time Tim knew him alone, Percy had caused more property damage than most low level rogues. As much as Percy tried to fight it, he had the worst luck known to man. Murphy’s law had never met a crime alley kid with a talent for destruction.

Tim was lost in his thoughts when, after a while, Damian set down Percy’s journal. Snapping back to the moment, Tim’s breath caught in his throat. ‘Did I get caught?’

Luckily, Damian didn’t look towards the door. He stood up, and gently set Percy’s journal back on the dresser. Tim realized that he was probably getting ready to leave, and he had no interest in getting caught “snooping” by the demon. That could get him verbally assaulted at the least and vivisected at the most.

He quietly stepped away from the door and started down the hallway. Once Tim was a decent ways away, he turned back around and started walking back to his room as if he had never been standing by Percy’s room at all.

‘Smooth Tim, smooth.’

He watched Damian step out of Percy’s room, locking the door behind him. He was as silent as the assassin he was, and if Tim hadn’t been watching, it was doubtful that he would have been detected at all. Still, Tim was too close not to get spotted eventually and Damian still hadn’t noticed him, so Tim coughed to make himself known. Damian’s head whipped up, finally seeing him.

“What are you doing Little D?” Tim tried to keep his voice even, only keeping a hint of suspicion audible. Breaking and entering was pretty common for this family, but that didn’t mean it was condoned inside the manor. Alfred could be terrifying when he wants to be. Damian looked a little flustered to have been caught. He hid the key behind him, and gave Tim a withering glare.

“None of your business Drake.” Tim raised an eyebrow, and Damian glanced away. “I got permission from Alfred to… survey some of the closed up guest rooms. It’s my duty as Father’s heir.” Tim just continued staring, and Damian doubled down. “Like I said, none of your business.”

Damian looked so awkward just standing there, and Tim had a choice to make. Let it go, move on, go back to his room like he was planning, and finish up the report, or… or he could take this chance to talk to the demon. In a non hostile way. Maybe make a connection or something. Be… brotherly. Like Dick. He could do that, right?

“You know, that room isn’t a guest room.” Tim tried to keep his voice neutral; informative even. He had to tread lightly to make sure he didn’t come across as accusatory. There was no reason Damian couldn’t be in Percy’s room, so there was no reason to accuse Damian of anything.

“That’s Percy’s room.” Damian looked back at Tim, eyes narrowing as if he was trying to guess Tim’s intentions. He continued, “I thought it would be pretty obvious since it’s the only room in the house with a mural of the ocean taking up a whole wall.” Tim’s words came out sharper than he had intended, but it was a fair point. Percy’s room had been customized just for him, and every family member had special locks on their doors. Damian couldn’t have stumbled on the room, it wasn’t possible.

Damian raised an eyebrow before looking back at the locked doorway. His shoulders seemed surprisingly small at that moment. He seemed… a little lost.

“I had noticed it looked a little bit different than the other rooms, but Jackson’s living quarters isn’t a location I have ever needed to know considering I have never met him.”

Damian's words felt like a slap to the face, and Tim felt regret so fast he got whiplash.

Percy had been such a big part of Tim’s first experiences with the manor. That first summer as Robin was hard, but Percy had been there to help him through. Tim could share the burden of keeping Bruce together with someone. He had another boy his age to complain with. He had someone who understood how Tim felt about his parents. Percy had been… so much for Tim. An ally. A friend. A brother.

Damian never really had that chance. Percy had disappeared once again at the beginning of summer, after attending 9th grade orientation. Damian had “arrived” only a few weeks later. Bruce was so focused on helping Damian settle and get “house trained”, (read: “taught why killing should not be a baseline response) that he didn’t have much time to go looking for where Percy went for the summer. Everyone figured that this summer would be the same as all the others; He’d be back before school started.

However, instead of re-emerging at the end of summer, right after his birthday, Percy hadn’t come back at all. Since then, he had been gone completely. No letters, no calls, no proof of life. Bruce, Dick, Tim, even Jason. They had all tried to track him down. Nothing.

Maybe all Damian had wanted… was to learn about Percy. That would explain why Alfred was willing to give Damian a key to Percy’s room, and it would explain why he was reading Percy’s journal. Tim would offer the olive branch, at least in this circumstance.

He gave a small cough. Trying to clear the space between them.

“No shame Damian.” Pause. “Though I am glad you checked on the room. I haven’t been inside for a long time. Neither has anyone but Alfred I think. Percy wouldn’t want his stuff to get dusty while he’s gone.”

‘Gone’, God why couldn’t Tim just move on. He was stuck in this idea that Percy was just taking another one of his special summer trips, except it had been nearly two years. Statistically… Well, the odds weren’t good in the first place, and Percy had the worst luck humanly possible. But Tim wasn’t known for his willingness to let go and move on.

After another minute of awkward silence, (’It should not be this hard to talk to your siblings!’), Damian finally broke the stalemate.

“I see. Thank you for letting me know Drake. Since his quarters are being neglected, I suppose I should take responsibility to make sure nothing is being disturbed. Therefore, there is no reason for this incident to be… shared. Agreed?”

Tim took a few seconds to process what Damian was saying, or rather, implying. He guessed that Damian just wanted an excuse to come and go from Percy’s room without having the family bother him, and who was Tim to stop him. It was Percy’s room after all.

“You can always sneak into my room Tim. What’s Dad gonna do? Move you?” Percy flopped on top of Tim, crushing him into the bed. He tried to push Percy off, but he was too heavy. “You’re stuck.” Percy smirked. “You’re stuck with me for good. Not even Jason could get rid of me.” Percy looked a little sad after bringing up Jason, but it didn’t last long. “My room is a safe space, that’s why it looks like the ocean!”

“Sure thing Damian. No big deal.” Tim paused, then added, “If you have any questions about Percy, for the sake of taking care of the room, let me know. I’d be happy to fill you in.”

Damian looked a little surprised at Tim’s offer, but he nodded hesitantly.

“Maybe I will.”

Tim turned back down the hallway, not feeling the need to linger any longer than necessary. He mostly just felt like finishing up work and taking a nap. He couldn’t wait for this week to be over. Tim didn’t look back at Damain, but the thought crossed his mind, ’maybe something good will come of this trashy situation after all.’

Notes:

Dick: Tim is being healthy!
Everyone: ????
Dick: He is being healthy with zero threats of violence or suspension!
Everyone: *Panic*

Tim: That’s Percy’s room.
Damian: (sarcastically)...Is it really?
Tim: Listen here you little demon, I am trying to be civil.

Damian: Would you like to form an alliance with me?
Tim: You know what, this is a good way to spend time together and not get stabbed.

This was surprisingly fun to write! I wanted to work my way up the batboys, and Tim was next. After consulting my timeline, I realized that Tim and Percy would have become friends not long after Jason’s death. Percy would have been lonely, and Tim would have been seeking companionship. Fun Fact: Percy knew Tim’s Uncle was fake, but he understood that Tim didn’t want anyone to know. He ain’t a snitch. He was just hoping his idiot dad would figure it out and take Tim in too. (little did he know…)

This chapter also introduces the idea that Percy disappeared pretty regularly during the summer, but always came back before the fall. However, in this fic, he doesn’t go back to his family after the Battle of the Labyrinth. Percy was super worried that he might get attacked at home or he might get someone hurt. After what happened to Sally and Jason, no dice he was risking his family. He figured he could go back after the war was resolved.

Does Percy know about Damian’s existence? Yes. He keeps up with the news. He was hyped to have another younger brother. And this time, it was a brother he could pick up and carry around! (No shame to Tyson).

As always, kudos and comments if you can. My ADHD holds the key to my productivity and it lives for validation.

Chapter 4: Percy’s Interlude: Eight Years-old

Notes:

Decided to post early. Just very excited for this chapter. Also, sorry in advance.
TW Abuse
TW Suicidality
TW Panic Attacks
If you need help or are struggling with dark thoughts, you are not alone. Reach out, find a professional, anything.
You are not alone.

Percy stumbled through the streets of Crime Alley, barefoot and bleeding. The cut on his forehead was bleeding and the rain had the blood running down his face like tears.

Gabe had lost it.

Percy had no idea what Gabe had been doing for work, but something had gone wrong. He came home last night angry and scared, talking to himself like he had seen a ghost. He locked Percy in the house with him, blocking all the doors and windows. Gabe spent the whole day pacing the living room, drinking himself into a stupor.

Gabe had forgotten that Percy was there until Percy messed up and got caught sneaking food. He had never seen Gabe that riled up before. His mom… usually helped deal with Gabe’s moods, but she wasn’t alive anymore. She… Gabe…

Percy tripped on a pipe and bit the pavement, hard. He must have cut his lip because he could taste iron. Percy sat up, and pulled himself further into the alley. He leaned up against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

Gabe was flying off the handle. Percy had tried to hide in the bathroom, maybe he could bandage some of the cuts. No dice, Gabe busted the door in. Then, something weird happened. The shower pipes burst, spraying Gabe in the face. Percy slipped out of the bathroom while he was distracted and somehow got the front door open.

Now he was wet, bloody, and barefoot in the middle of Crime Alley. He had nowhere to go, and no one who was looking for him. What was he supposed to do?

“Percy, you can always go back to the sea.” His mom’s voice was gentle as she stroked his cheek. “Whatever happens, the sea will always be safe for you.” She smiled distantly, like she does when she talks about Percy’s dad. She had never brought it up again after, but her words stayed with Percy for a long time…

Percy righted himself and took a breath. He could go to the ocean.

__________________________________________________________

Percy’s feet were dangling over the edge of the Robert Kane Memorial Bridge with the ocean beneath him. It was still raining but the blood on his face had dried as his cuts began to scab over. If he jumped now, maybe he would feel less sticky and gross. There was nothing stopping him anyway…

“Hey kid.”

Percy turned to the voice, only to spot Robin standing a few feet away from him on the bridge. This was the new Robin wasn’t it? He looked a lot younger, his skin was lighter. There was even a trace of a proper gotham accent. Huh. Percy didn’t realize that Batman could just switch out his sidekicks.

Robin was saying something into an earpiece. Probably reporting that he found some kid sitting on the edge of a bridge.

“Why are you all the way out here?” Robin stepped closer, hands out reassuringly, but Percy couldn’t help but flinch. Gods, Gabe had messed him up. Robin was a kid just like him.

“Thought I might go for a swim. You?” Robin’s face twisted with concern hearing Percy’s response. He had tried to keep his voice casual, but all the exhaustion and fear from today made it difficult to stay nonchalant. A shiver racked his wet frame as another gust blew off from the sea. Percy turned back out to face the ocean. It almost felt like a call to… Robin cut into his thinking:

“I’m looking for a kid. Perseus Uglino?” Percy didn’t look back at Robin, but the name “Uglino” sounded ugly in conjunction with Percy’s name. Robin seemed to be trying to keep Percy calm, talk him down. What he didn’t seem to recognize was that he was as calm as he had ever been, it was all just… quiet.

“It’s Percy Jackson, actually.”

Another breeze came up from the ocean, smelling like salt and seawater, and home.

“Hey, um… Percy. Mind sliding away from the edge?” Robin took another step forward, now standing right next to Percy on the edge of the bridge. “The police, we’ve been looking for you.” At that statement, Percy finally glanced back to look at Robin.

’ Why would Robin be looking for me?’

He tried to gauge if Robin was telling the truth, whether or not this would end badly for Percy, but it suddenly hit him that Robin had no reason to lie. If he wanted to pull Percy away from the edge, he could, but he didn’t need to come up with a fake reason to be looking for Percy. He even had a full name, just the wrong last name.

“...Why?”

“Your father was arrested four hours ago. He’s been working with the Moroni Family.”

Robin sounded real concerned that Percy might freak out over Gabe’s arrest. It actually didn’t surprise Percy at all. Apparently Gabe was a thug at home and at work, at least he was getting what he deserved.

Though, thinking about it, it made sense that he was paranoid today, he had the Batman on his trail. Percy just wished he hadn’t been forced to deal with the brunt of that stress. (He didn’t deserve it. Neither did his mother.)

“What’s that got to do with me?” Once again, the ocean wind blew past him drawing his eyes back to the dark horizon. Nothing but dark sky and endless sea. Two empty voids. Two choices.

“Your father-"

“Step-father”

“Your stepfather was yelling that you had ruined the house and ran off. With all the blood and glass, Batman was worried you were hurt.” Robin looked Percy up and down, clearly noting the cuts on his arms from blocking the bottles and the gash on his forehead. “...Percy, you should come with me to get cleaned up. Commissioner Gordon is pretty nice with kids, you know.”

Percy stared out at the ocean, eyes fixed on the line far out in the distance. His stormy eyes seemed dark. Like a vortex with no end.

“Percy, you can always go back to the sea.”

“What’s the point? If I go with you, they’ll put me in the system and I’ll just end up with another jerk like Gabe. I don’t think… I’d rather jump.” Percy let his eyes drift down to the choppy water below. “I feel like, once I hit the water, everything is going to be okay, you know?”

Robin sucked in a breath. He muttered something else into his earpiece, as if he was responding to someone.

“...found…bridge…jump…”

After waiting a few moments, Robin sat down next to Percy letting his feet dangle over the edge. He wasn’t wearing any pants. ‘I wonder how he doesn’t freeze…’

“I get it. The system sucks, but you could get lucky. There are some really nice families out there looking for kids. I bet you could find one just right for you!” Robin’s voice was surprisingly earnest, and Percy got the sense that he really did understand to some degree, but there was too much hurt right now.

Percy’s shoulders started shaking as he stared down at the water. There was no point in getting a new family. That wouldn’t fix anything. He wouldn’t feel better with something new. He wanted what he had. He wanted his mom. He just wanted to be safe.

“I don’t want a new family. That bastard killed my old one. My mom- she-” Percy tried to explain, but his voice broke into hiccups. He couldn’t explain. There was too much blood and glass and tears and screaming…

His breath started to shorten as his mind got foggy. Glass and beer and blood and sobs… His breathing became shorter and faster, but he still couldn't get enough air. He was drowning on land.

In the distance, he could hear Robin talking to someone. Maybe to Percy, trying to calm him down, but there was no point. He just wanted to get away from everything. He just wanted to go back to his home. His mom.

Suddenly, there was a gentle hand on his back. Another hand on his shoulder pulled him away from the edge. The touch was so gentle that Percy didn’t mind that it was a large man who was touching him.

Somehow, Percy found himself in a safe kind of darkness. Wrapped in something big and safe and dark… It was like he was sitting at the bottom of the ocean. He was safe. His hiccups fell into sobs as he let himself cry.

He missed his mom. He missed his home. He missed Montauk. His arms hurt. His head was aching. Everything was sore and he was so cold.

The darkness just held him tight and let him cry for a while. After a few minutes, Percy’s breathing evened out and exhaustion washed over him. Before he realized it, he was asleep.

Notes:

Percy: My mom said the ocean is a safe place! I sense that if I jump, I will be okay.
Jason: Kid. Kid. Please. I am not trained to tell an eight year old not to jump off a bridge.
Percy: 🙂
Jason: “….B. B. B! Batman! Please get here. I am not qualified for this.”

Gordon: Batman, Uglino has a kid on record. Name’s Persus. …There’s a good chance this blood is his since Uglino doesn’t have a cut on him.
Batman: *Intense brooding stare*
Gordon: 'Oh God he is gonna kill me.' The, uh, kid isn’t here.
Batman: *Intensity intensifies*
Gordon: I’ll have a search team out asap.
Batman: We’ll take care of it commissioner. Next time, don’t lose a kid.
Gordon: *Gordon resolves to never have to tell Batman about a injured lost kid again lest he have a heart attack or get murdered*

Alright y’all, this was a hard scene to write. Percy is going through a lot. Then again, he has to reach a certain trauma threshold to get adopted, so I am just trying to hit all the right points. Please forgive me.

Had Percy jumped, Poseidon would have saved him, and I am considering writing a one shot where he does, and he washes up in Bludhaven and meets Dick or something. Let me know if that sounds good.

I have read a lot of different interpretations of Batman, and I've heard this quote from somewhere down the grapevine that goes something like "if you can't picture your Batman comforting a child, you are doing it wrong." My brain heard that and was like, "Yes ma'am." Hence the ending of this scene.

As always, give me kudos and comments. My ADHD feeds off of the external validation.

Chapter 5: Chapter 3: Jason

Notes:

I already posted once this week, but I really wanted to try to post every Thursday to make a habit. I'm posting at midnight because I have a medical procedure tomorrow and they are gonna put me under so I might forget to post.
GUYS, we already have more than 300 KUDOS??? Y'all are too kind to me.
Please enjoy the chapter, and leave a comment below with your thoughts. I do actually read most of them and I will respond. Let's be friends! (I don't have enough real fandom friends, most of my friends I made in classes at Uni and they are the wrong kind of nerds to like fanfiction.)

Jason had decided that the next person to ask him if he was okay was losing their kneecaps. Violently. He was fine, okay? Just because he was stopping by the manor a bit more than usual didn’t mean that he was falling apart at the seams or that he had just committed some atrocity and needed to wait out the fallout. He didn’t have any ulterior motive, he was just… homesick this time of year.

So far, Alfred was the only person in this house that was being normal about Jason’s presence at the manor, which is why Jason was hiding in the kitchen to read as opposed to the library. (Hiding, not cooking. Alfred had made it clear what would happen if he tried to make himself a snack.) It was the only place in the manor where Jason could hide from sibling, and sibling-adjacent, curiosity. Alfred kept pretty much every other member of the family out of there besides Damian, and that brat should be at school right now.

Jason tried to focus on his reading, but he had a sneaking suspicion that one of the aforementioned irritants was going to try to hunt him down to “check on him” sometime soon. He had been hounded so much lately that he was getting paranoid, but his anxiety was well founded. No one in this family could leave well alone or express concern in a healthy way.

Besides, Jason was doing just peachy compared to everyone else in this madhouse. Sure, Cass, Steph, and Duke were doing just fine, they… they were definitely confused about what was going on, but they were fine. It was Dick and Tim that Jason was worried about.

(Not Bruce, he couldn’t worry about Bruce)

Jason had been observing his siblings for about two weeks now, and it was growing increasingly obvious what was happening to them (all of them) as the date grew closer.

Dick seemed lethargic, just kind of spaced out. He claimed he was still staying at the manor for the demon’s sake, but Jason saw through that lie real quick. Damian was doing fine, better than usual if anything. No, Dick was sticking around because Percy’s birthday was coming up, and he was beating himself up for not tracking him down.

Jason turned another page, but his mind was already wandering. He had been having a hard time trying to read books casually ever since he "came back".

Percy had been disappearing during the summer ever since Jason died. When Jason first heard about it, he had been pissed. Bruce being irresponsible enough to let Percy just… leave every summer? Jason gave him an earful and a liver shot. However, that first summer when Jason was back, Percy was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. One day he was finishing up school, and then boom! He was gone and was basically untraceable till he came back at the end of the summer.

Jason had tried tracking him down as soon as he was back in Gotham and properly established, but he had no luck whatsoever. Now, Jason was not on speaking terms with the family during that time, but it was concerning at the least, and rage inducing at the most.

Jason was still fighting with B for nearly another year after he came back to gotham. That second spring, Percy had gone to orientation for 9th grade, alone.

(God, what if Jason had been there. If only he had been watching!)

Percy disappeared, and he didn’t come back. He was gone like the wind, and nobody in the family could find him.

There was a young boy sitting on the edge of a bridge over the bay. His shoulders were hunched over and his eyes were fixed on the ocean, there was blood on his face and he was soaking wet. With the cold and his injuries, it was likely he would get hypothermia or worse. For a moment, it felt like Robin was looking at himself only a year ago. Was there anything he could actually do for this kid?

Jason would be lying if he said that Percy’s disappearance didn’t push him to reconcile with Bruce at all. In fact, Jason was big enough to say that it was a pretty big part of it actually. Damian had joined the family, Tim and Jason weren’t “shoot on sight” anymore, but he didn’t need to talk to any of them until they all ran into the collective wall of “Where the hell is Percy?”

Even now, Bruce hadn’t given up. Neither had Tim.

Jason had heard through the grapevine that Tim had been sleeping nearly 8 hours every night this week, which for this family, and the replacement specifically, was a miracle. Everybody was concerned, but Jason didn’t have the heart to be the one to confront him about it. Tim was probably just trying to cope with Percy’s loss just like everyone else. Jason figured it would be better if they were all allowed to deal with the next week however they wanted to without bothering each other.

Mostly because Jason didn’t feel like talking about Percy.

Dick and Tim had known Percy, sure. But not like Jason did. They weren’t there when Percy first showed up at the mansion two days after nearly throwing himself off a bridge. They weren’t there when Percy had a panic attack because “Brucie” pretended to be drunk at a gala. They hadn’t watched The Little Mermaid four times on the anniversary of Sally Jackson’s death. (Their death wasn’t the reason that Percy got pushed away in the first place.)

Jason had every right to be upset about this shitshow of a disappearance.

(He was mad at himself)

All he wanted was to be left alone to his demons, not to be pestered by the consequences of Bruce's adoption addition.

The boy finally met his eyes, sea green and endlessly stormy. It felt like he was staring at a hurricane. Robin watched as his eyes drifted back down to the choppy water below. His voice didn’t shake even a little as he said, “I feel like, once I hit the water, everything is going to be okay, you know?” Robin was glued to the floor. What should he do?

Jason turned the page again, but nearly threw the book in frustration. He wasn’t really paying attention to the story anyway. His mind was all over the place, and he did not want to have a Lazarus incident this week. If he ended up killing someone, he would probably get grounded from family activities. (Why should Jason care?) It was ridiculous that Alfred still had the authority to do that even though he was a fully grown adult.

Jason looked back down at his book and flipped back a few pages. Maybe he could still make some progress on it today.

“Jason, I screwed up.”

Nope. Never mind. Think of a devil and one will appear. Jason turned around to see a very frustrated Dick standing behind him in the doorway. He looked more than a little disheveled and his shoulders were hunched like a puppy that had just been scolded.

“Two things. First, you aren’t allowed in the kitchen-”

“I’m not in the kitchen!” Dick gestured down to the line where the woodflooring turned to tile and sure enough, he wasn’t actually ‘in’ the kitchen per se, he was standing in the entryway.

“Secondly! Why the hell would you come to me if you screwed up? I am absolutely no help unless you need someone dead. And if you needed someone dead, I am pretty sure you could take care of it yourself or ask one of your many other assassin friends. Hell, even any of the sirens would do it for you!” Jason waved his hand dismissively, trying to focus back on his reading. He didn’t need to get involved in any family drama. His mere presence was drama enough most of the time. Dick would be just fine without him.

“It’s about Tim.”

“Oh God, that’s worse. I absolutely cannot help you.”

“Jason, please. I’m not asking for help, I just need someone to talk to.” Jason sighed and set down his book. He’d have to finish it later. He looked over at Dick giving him the go ahead to rant about whatever this was.

“I’ve been really worried about Tim.” ‘what a shocker’ “Especially with what’s happening this week, I just figured he was trying to avoid the issue. I tried to get him to talk about it, but I ended up… saying the wrong thing.”

“So you brought up Percy directly then?”

“...Yes” Dick certainly looked apologetic, so at least he recognized that he overstepped. As much as he cares about Tim, nobody has any right to complain about how he processes grief. The same goes for anybody else in the family. A bat telling a bat to communicate; pot, meet kettle. They were all moody hypocrites. Dick just happened to care a bit more than the rest of them.

“Well, why’d you come to complain to me? I don’t want to talk about it either, otherwise I wouldn’t be sheltering here! Just apologize to Tim and leave me out of it.” Jason sighed, and picked up his book once again. “We’re all just trying to make it through the week.”

“I just want to help Tim move on, you know?” Dick sighed and leaned up against the door frame. “I get that our family isn’t the best at letting go, but all the evidence suggests…” Jason watched as Dick struggled to say it out loud, which was honestly fair. He had searched just like the rest of the family, but he was smart enough to get help from outside resources.

Zatana stood in Percy’s room, glancing around at the space. Jason and Dick stood uncomfortably in the doorway. This was a last ditch attempt on Dick’s part to track down Percy. With Bruce gone and Tim spiraling, everyone needed closure.

“I can give it my best shot.” Zatana picked up one of Percy’s shark stuffed animals. “You want me to find his location?”

Dick shrugged, “Even if you could just tell us if he’s alive or not, that would be new information. We’ve got nothing.” Zatana looked more than a little surprised to hear Dick admit so readily that he didn’t know what was going on with his little brother. Jason watched as they stared each other down, and he felt a little out of place in this situation. He had insisted on being there in case Zatana was actually able to find Percy.

(He needed to know. It was his fault)

The spell took over twenty minutes to set up, and the actual searching process took twice as long. The more they had to wait, the more of Jason’s hope faded away. Once Zatana’s eyes stopped glowing and her face didn’t look cocky or triumphant, Jason knew.

“I couldn’t find anything.” She sounded so final. “Either my magic is being blocked by some god-like force, or your brother has… moved on.”

Jason tuned out after that. Dick talked to Zatana for a while, but Jason was stuck to the floor. Percy was gone. Just like that. Jason had made it back, but Percy hadn’t. Green crept into his vision, but it was washed away by tears welling up. Percy was gone.

Gone.

Dick still couldn’t say it, even though they both knew the truth. Jason came back. Bruce came back. Hell, this whole family was full of people who had defied death so many times they might as well be considered immortal. It was just the one. The one kid who only ever wanted to feel safe. The one boy who was braver than all of them combined. That was the one who didn’t make it back.

“You should apologize to Tim. You can't blame him for having hope… since neither of us have told him what Z said.” Jason didn’t want to place any blame, but it was Dick’s idea that Zatana’s visit be kept secret from the rest of the family.

“Yeah… you’re probably right.” Dick sighed. “Tim just… doesn't handle loss well. Remember what happened with Bruce?”

That was a fair point. Tim definitely flew off the rails. But…

“But Tim was right with Bruce. If Percy really is… not around, Tim should get that. In fact, it would count as solid proof to me to see Tim let go.” Jason didn’t want to hold onto old ghosts, they were already haunted enough. (Jason was a ghost in this house)

“You are underestimating Tim. If we try to tell him what Z said, he is going to assume that Percy has been kidnapped by Gods.” Dick let out a small chuckle, and Jason had to follow suit. “Tim will find any excuse or flaw in the case and run with it. Personally, I’d rather not have my siblings trying to chase down and fight gods.”

Jason smirked. Dick may have a point. It was surprisingly easy to picture Tim explaining how Percy had been kidnapped by some patheon of crazy gods. They were all pretty nuts, not that Jason could be associated with these crazy people, but Tim really liked to push the limits.

“Alright, I get your point.” Jason pointed at Dick. “But you should still apologize. Track down Tim, let him know that you are here to support him, if he needs it, then get out of his hair and let Friday pass this family by.”

Dick stared down Jason’s finger for a moment, before sighing again. Dick gave a resigned nod and straightened up in the doorway.

“You’re right. I… I’ll go track him down.” Dick paused before he turned to leave, stopping to look at Jason for a moment. “But if you need anything, I’m around, okay? Tim isn’t the only one grieving right now. You also lost a brother. I know how that feels.”

Dick left before Jason could really process what he meant, which honestly felt unfair. Jason was left sitting in the kitchen in silence.

Robin stared at the boy, now asleep in Batman’s arms. This kid had lost everything. He had been living with his mother’s murderer. He’d been abused and forgotten. What could Robin even do for him?

Nothing. Robin couldn’t do anything for this kid- Percy. But maybe… maybe there was something Jason could do.

Jason stared back down at the book in his hands. He didn’t think he would get any reading done today. Maybe he should go find somebody in this house to bother.

Notes:

Jason: Why is everyone bothering me?
Everyone: Dudes, Jason is in the house and not angry for the first time in forever! Time for bonding!

Zatanna: Nothing could hide your brother from me unless they were like, a god or something.
Dick and Jason: Completely ridiculous. Impossible.

Dick: Tim doesn’t handle loss well.
Jason: When has that ever been a problem?
Dick: Well… (proceeds to recount several times Tim went crazy)
Jason: Fair point. My bad.

Thanks for reading! I had a great time writing this. It was definitely interesting to consider Jason, the person who spent the most time with a young, still traumatized Percy and how he handled the disappearance. I think Jason feels a lot of guilt because Bruce pushed Percy away because of Jason’s death and that is what led to these summer disappearances (as far as they know). Jason feels very responsible for Percy, like the good big brother that he is.

Let me know if you have any questions and I’ll try to answer in the comments! It'll give me something to do while I recover from my procedure!
Leave Kudos and comments to feed the ADHD. It controls my ability to write.

Chapter 6: Percy’s Interlude: Eight Years-old, Part II

Notes:

OH MY GOODNESS GUYS. You are too nice. I love reading all of your comments. Totally makes it worth it.
Health update: I survived the procedure. Minor complications led to the appearance of a new condition, but we are coping. Depending on how I heal, I may need a repeat procedure, so we'll see how we do. Pray for me if that is a thing you do. Otherwise, offer sacrifices to Apollo cuz man, pain sucks!
This is going to be the longest chapter I have posted yet, so enjoy that. I have worked long and hard, inspired by your encouragement! I do take ideas and recommendations from the comments, so shoot things my way. Plus, would it really be a Percy chapter without the trigger warnings? Enjoy!
TW Panic Attack
TW Disassociation
TW Gaslighting/Abuse
TW Ablism

Percy hadn’t been aware that his mom went to high school with Bruce Wayne, but they must have been pretty close friends if he was willing to temporarily take in her kid in the middle of the whole mess that was Smelly Gabe’s arrest and Percy’s custody. It wasn’t like Percy was ungrateful or anything, it was just a little surprising, that’s all.

Commissioner Gordon had been the one to take Percy for the first little while. After the whole bridge fiasco and passing out, Percy woke up at the police station, completely exhausted. Even after taking a nap, he felt like his head was filled with moss. The world just seemed heavier and darker now than it was before.

After Percy had properly sat up, he spotted something he never thought he would see up close. The Batman was talking to Commissioner Gordon in his office. Percy stared at them for a good while before a different officer noticed that he was awake. She was really nice, she gave him a new blanket that was less wet but Percy was remiss to let the old one go. (This one was all black and completely soaked, and Percy hadn’t ever felt a fabric like it before, but it felt safe.) She sat with him for a while, just talking to him about random things. Percy learned quite a bit about the station’s latest drama before she had to go.

A few minutes later, a different lady came by. She said her name was Janett, and explained that she was a trauma counselor who wanted to talk to Percy about how he was doing. She tried to talk to him about Gabe, but for some reason it was hard to talk about him. (Blood, glass, alcohol, cleaning chemicals, gone gone gone run run run run run) Once she realized that Percy wasn’t going to open up about Gabe, she decided to switch the topic to the bridge for some reason? Percy tried to explain that he had been sure he was going to be fine if he jumped, but she didn’t seem to get it. She kept asking why he wanted to jump, and Percy didn’t have a good explanation. He just had a sense that everything was going to be fine once he hit the water.

Well “Janett the trauma counselor” really didn’t like that explanation. She finished up her conversation with Percy by explaining that he was going to go somewhere safe and that everything was going to be better from now on, then she got up and hurried over to Commissioner Gordon. The Batman had disappeared from his office (which was weird because Percy hadn’t seen him in the hallway) and he was sitting at his desk. As Janett was talking, the Commissioner’s expression grew tighter and more furrowed the longer she went on. Percy watched the whole conversation, and by the end, the Commissioner looked practically exhausted. He picked up a folder from his desk and stood up. At that moment, their eyes met and Percy realized that they had been talking about him. He was causing so much trouble that the Commissioner was going to take care of it himself! Was Percy about to be arrested?

Commissioner Gordon left his office, folder in hand, and walked right over to Percy. He tried to think of something snappy to say but his brain was still mossy and his tongue felt way too heavy. The Commissioner’s size and figure was too much like //////////-
“You’re coming with me, kid.” His voice was soft and his tone was gentle. Commissioner Gordon had squatted down to get eye level with Percy, and after a few seconds, Percy registered his look as concern. The heavy feeling in his chest was still there but he shook himself out of whatever that was, and tried to stand up. Commissioner Gordon offered his hand to Percy, but he didn’t take it. He could walk by himself. He slid off the bench and landed on the floor with shaky legs, but he didn’t fall over.

“We don’t have a good place for you yet, and considering your step-father’s… circumstances, we figured it would be best if we housed you with an officer for now.” Commissioner Gordon paused to look at Percy, and offered a small smile. “Since I’ve got space and extra money for food, you’ll be coming with me for now. That alright with you- kid?”

It took Percy a few moments to process what the Commissioner was trying to say. Something about Gabe’s circumstances meant that he couldn’t go straight into the foster system? Percy knew Gabe was doing some pretty shady things, but he had no idea it was such a big deal. Still, he was reaping the benefits. Cops made plenty in Gotham, so he would probably be able to sneak a bunch of food without his temporary guardian noticing the difference.

“You still with me kid?” The Commissioner had stopped walking and turned back to look at Percy. Apparently silence was suspicious and Percy had been so lost in thought he hadn’t responded to the comissioner’s question.

“Oh! Y-yeah. That sounds good.” Percy’s mouth felt like it was dry and full at the same time, like he had a mouthful of sand. “I’d be fine to stay at your place.”

The Commissioner still seemed a little worried, but he decided that answer was good enough for now and started walking again.

“You sure you don’t need me to pick you up?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

__________________________________________________________

While he was staying at Gordon's apartment, Percy decided that there was definitely something wrong with him. The first night, Percy had been too tired to worry about much of anything. Percy had fallen asleep on the couch pretty much immediately and without a second thought. He woke up the next morning covered in blankets and the smell of eggs was wafting through the room.

Much to Percy’s surprise, it wasn’t Gordon at the stove. Instead, it was a young redhead. She was fairly tall, and surprisingly lean. Her hair was tied up out of her face while she was cooking the eggs, and she was humming some unfamiliar song.

Percy didn’t do anything but sit up and slide the blanket off, but the woman turned around only a beat later like she had superhuman senses or something. As soon as she spotted Percy, her figure relaxed and she smiled.

“Morning! You want some eggs?” She held up the pan of scrambled eggs, and they did smell amazing. It wasn’t like he was going to get poisoned in a police officer’s house.

Percy decided that he liked this woman pretty much instantly. What could he do? He really liked her food. After a few minutes of chatting, Percy learned that her name was Barbra, but he should call her Babs, she was Gordon’s daughter, she was almost eighteen but was going to stay with her dad for a while to take care of him, she had a boyfriend who recently moved to Bludhaven, and she was training to be a professional gymnast. When Babs asked about him, Percy decided to return the favor. He shared that he was Percy Jackson (not Perseus), he was eight years-old, he was raised by the best mom on the planet, he never wanted to get married or fall in love, and he was going to grow up to be an ocean specialist.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly is an “ocean specialist?” Babs picked up their empty plates and started carrying them to the sink so she could rinse them off.

“Well, um, it’s a person who knows everything about the ocean. Like, all the fish and all the reefs and all the- um- all the best places to surf.” Percy tried to count on his fingers all the things he thought an ocean specialist needed to know, but he couldn’t think of a lot of specifics.

“Well then, you have a lot of learning to do if you want to know about all the fish and all the reefs.” Much to Percy’s surprise, Babs really seemed to be taking him seriously, which was a nice change compared to his mom’s dismissive encouragement and Gabe’s condescension.

“Well, I’m gonna do it. I’ll study a bunch, and go to college, and get a degree in oceans and stuff.” Percy was really excited to be talking about his plans, since he didn’t really get a lot of people who would really listen.

“How are you going to pay for college?” That was a really good question. Babs continued scrubbing away while Percy pondered her question. He needed a way to get into a college without any money. Well, what if the college paid for itself!

“I’ll get a surfing scholarship!” Percy exclaimed excitedly. “All the people at the beach say that I’ve got talent.”

“But how are you going to practice in gotham? We don’t have any good beaches for surfing.”

She had a point, Percy couldn’t practice surfing in the gotham area. The beaches were mostly covered in trash and debris from rouge attacks, not to mention the gnarly currents. If surfing was off the table…

“I could get a swimming scholarship! I’m really good at swimming too. I can even do the breastroke better than most of the older swimmers.” Percy folded his arms in triumph. “And I’d be able to practice at the YMCA!”

Babs set the dishes down to dry and walked back over to the table. She was smiling, and she seemed genuinely impressed with Percy’s planning; There wasn’t a trace of joking on her face. She flopped back into her chair and reached out towards Percy's head-

Without thinking Percy flinched away from her hand, and nearly fell out of the chair. His heart was racing and his muscles were tight as if he had just been attacked, not gently reached towards with good intentions. ‘What was that?’.

Babs seemed unbothered, but her eyes were crinkled around the edges, just like the expression his teacher made when his mom couldn’t pick him up after a school field trip to the Gotham Zoo. (Percy hated that look, he was fine. His family was fine.). Babs let her elbow fall down to the table, and she rested her head on her hand. The movement looked so natural that Percy almost thought she had never intended to touch him at all. (It was dumb that she had to do that. Percy wasn’t a scared animal or anything.) Percy slid back in his chair and tried to pretend whatever happened hadn’t happened.

“So! My dad said that you haven’t been in school since your mom died. How would you like to go to the library?” Babs smiled like nothing was wrong, and Percy was really grateful for that.

Yeah, Percy liked Babs.

__________________________________________________________

Percy was scared of Gordon, and he couldn’t figure out why.

Sure, he still felt weird when Babs tried to touch him without warning, but this was different. It was like Percy couldn’t relax when Gordon was in the room. His heart would start racing if he got too close and he was always aware of where Gordon was standing in the room. Everytime he came home from a late night at the precinct, Percy would wake up nearly immediately and wouldn’t go back to sleep until Gordon went to bed for the night.

Babs had tried to suggest that Percy sleep in her room and she could sleep on the couch, but Percy turned down that offer reeeal quick. He wasn’t going to steal her bed, he did have manners. Besides, he was an expert at pretending to be asleep, so Gordon wouldn’t notice when he was actually awake. The only evidence of his late night anxiety was the bags under his eyes.

It was another one of those nights and Percy just couldn’t sleep. He hated it. It felt like Gordon was one of the monsters that were supposed to be a product of his imagination. (Or something worse. Gabe told him he was crazy). Percy had to be overreacting. The Commissioner was a good person, and logically, Percy knew that. There was something wrong in his brain that kept deciding to register Gordon as a threat. (Was this another symptom? Was Gabe right about him?). There was a sour smell in the kitchen where Gordon was but Percy’s eyes were closed tight. Was Gabe…

Gabe took another healthy swig from the bottle and set it down on the coffee table next to the other fourty or so empty bottles. His breath was rancid and Percy tried not to let his eyes water as Gabe leaned over to look at him.

“There is no monster waiting below your window, kid.” His words were slurred and he was some kind of combination between exasperated and angry. “I’ve checked- twice.”

He had. Percy had tried to ignore the one eyed man waiting below his window, but he hadn’t moved in two days and he was beginning to worry. Normally he would go to his mom, but that wasn’t an option anymore. Still, if Gabe was good at anything, it was scaring people. Percy was hoping he could make the monster go away. Instead, Gabe found nothing in the alleyway but another reason to think Percy was messing with him.

Gabe and Percy stared at each other for a little while. There wasn’t much noise beyond the sound of the mostly busted TV playing the news. The story about the new park wrapped up and the next segment was on Arkham Asylum's newest high security wing. Gabe glanced over at the TV before looking back at Percy. Thirteen raging heartbeats later, he broke into a terrifying grin.

“You know, seeing things like monsters, that's the kind of stuff that crazy people do. Seeing monsters all the time, thinking you're so special, that sounds like… um, schizophrenia! Yeah, schizophrenia.” Percy didn’t like how Gabe was talking, and he hated how right he sounded. Percy knew that he sometimes saw things that nobody else did, but that didn’t make him crazy… right?

“They put people with schizophrenia and shit into Arkham.” Gabe just wouldn’t shut up, and Percy felt like the room was spinning. “You wanna end up in a cell with the Joker? Keep talking about your crazy person hallucinations.”

All the spinning stopped and Percy felt a chill run down his back. The one time he saw a rouge from a distance his mom told him that he could die if he went that direction, so they ran. The idea of ending up there. He couldn’t open his mouth. He couldn’t argue. Everything felt cold. ‘Am I… crazy? Am I really seeing things because I’m nuts?’

“Huh, finally something got you to properly shut up, huh?” Gabe turned back to the TV and picked up his bottle again. “Keep it that way kid. You’re already halfway to crazy with all that AD…T-, S maybe?” Percy couldn’t even find it funny that Gabe couldn’t spell. “You’re already half nuts, tell them about the rest and you’re a shoe in for Arkham. Watch your mouth kid or I’ll tell everyone just how crazy you are.”

There was a touch on his shoulder and Percy snapped back to reality. He was sitting upright on the couch, blanket on the floor. Gordon was crouched in front of him, moving his hands like he wanted Percy to mimic his breathing.

Breathing? Oh. Percy wasn’t breathing. Or was he breathing too much? Everything was spinning and his chest ached like he had a fever. His ears were ringing and everything was wrong. The Commissioner smelled like beer and it was making everything so much worse to have him this close. Percy covered his nose and mouth to keep the toxic smell away. Luckily, Gordon got the hint and stepped back towards the kitchen.

Percy lowered his hands and curled them around his knees. He tried to focus on breathing, but he felt like the air had been polluted. Why was he like this? The Commissioner had just been trying to unwind. (Gabe was always unwound). Percy was acting like a crazy person. (Was he a crazy person?)

It took more than a few minutes of gasping breaths before the room stopped spinning and Percy could relax his grip on his legs. He leaned his head back, exhausted. Something was very wrong with him, and he hated it.

‘Why am I like this?’

Despite all his hallucinations and brilliant ideas, there was no response.

__________________________________________________________

When Commissioner Gordon explained to Percy that someone trustworthy had stepped up to take Percy’s custody, he hadn’t been expecting Bruce Wayne.

Everybody knew about Bruce Wayne, and Percy wasn’t that stupid. Even he knew that Bruce Wayne was the richest and coolest guy in Gotham. Everybody wanted to be him, or at the very least, know him, but it was insane that Bruce Wayne knew his mom. Apparently they went to school together and were pretty close friends. According to the Commissioner, Mr. Wayne had seen the obituary that the Police put out after confirming his mother’s death and had reached out to them to find out the details. When he heard about Percy’s situation, he insisted that Percy could stay with him for the time being, as a favor to a dead friend.

All in all, it was a ridiculous situation, but Percy was still stuck on the idea that his mom had been friends with Bruce Wayne. He wasn’t sure he was going to move past it, until the day came very shortly when a literal butler came to pick up Percy from the Gordons’ apartment.

Babs helped him pack up the clothing she had picked out for him when they went shopping and she put the library books they had been working through in a Gotham Library tote bag for him to take with him to the new place. He didn’t have much, but everything he had gotten from the Gordons felt special. They decided to help him for no good reason at all. Percy planned to repay them someday if he had the chance.

Babs insisted on carrying the bags down to the car. When they got there, Percy had to take a second to process the presence of a literal limo parked on the street by the apartment complex. An older man stepped out of the front seat and walked over to greet Babs. She gave him a quick hug and handed off the bags.

“Do you know him?” Percy questioned.

“You could say that I’m a… friend of the family. Alfred is pretty much Bruce’s adoptive dad and he lives at the manor, so I see him a lot.” Babs' tone was very casual, not like she had just explained that she was so close with Gotham royalty that she was on a first name basis with Bruce Wayne.

“...Manor?” Percy tried to focus on the most currently relevant part of that revelation.

“Yes. Wayne Manor has been the home of the Waynes for several generations.” A male British voice cut into their conversation. Percy turned to see that the butler, Alfred, had finished loading up Percy’s two bags into the car. “I would be happy to give you a tour once you are settled in your room Master Perseus.”

Percy’s nose screwed up at how Alfred said his name. It felt kinda icky honestly. (It felt wrong to have an adult talk to him like he was worth their time.)

“Could you just call me Percy? I really don’t use my full name.” Percy tried to keep his voice neutral. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the respect, he just couldn’t shake this feeling that he was being pranked somehow.

“Of course Master Percy.” Alfred turned back to the car and opened one of the doors. “We should be getting on the road. Master Bruce is planning on meeting us for lunch at the manor.”

Percy looked back at Babs to make sure he was okay to leave. Babs waved him forward without a moment of hesitation.

“Will you be coming with us Mistress Barbra?” Alfred looked at Babs expectantly.

“Not this time Alfred.” She gently nudged Percy towards the car. “Though I may swing by to visit Percy sometime. It’s been a while since I’ve been to the manor.”

“Very well then.” Alfred paused, and looked between Percy and Babs. As if he was suddenly inspired, he added on, “Though, since you seem to be very attached to this situation, I would be grateful if you would explain Percy’s circumstances to Master Dick. I doubt he would get upset with Percy, but if the necessity of his presence in the manor could be explained, it may reduce later conflict.”

Babs just nodded, as if anything that Alfred just said made any sense whatsoever. Percy’s mind was reeling just trying to keep up with the idea that at some point Babs was a regular presence at the manor and…

“Wait, wait. Who is ‘Master Dick’?” Babs and Alfred shared a look before both of them smiled. Babs looked slightly flustered for a moment before she spoke up.

“Dick is Bruce’s eldest son. He’s the boyfriend I said lived in Bludhaven.”

“You’re dating-”

Alfred didn’t let Percy finish his question. He stepped between Percy and Babs and waved her away. “We should get on the road Master Percy. You can invite Mistress Barbra to the manor at a later date and you can ask her all of your questions.”

The car door was open, and Percy had no choice but to proceed inward. He slid into the backseat. Even if this limo was a lot smaller than the ones he had seen on TV, there was still so much leg room he probably could have taken a nap on the floor. This was a whole nother world from the one Percy grew up in. He still wasn’t sure this was real. Bruce Wayne taking him in? Percy? It all seemed magical, like he was in a movie or something. He just hoped that he didn’t mess this up.

“Everything alright Master Percy? Is there anything else you need before we get to the manor?”Percy could see Alfred checking on him in the rearview mirror. His warm and crinkled eyes made him look like a friendly grandpa, rather than a rich person’s personal assistant.

“No. Though, you don’t have to call me ‘Master’ Percy.” Percy offered, “Regular ‘Percy’ is just fine.”

Alfred just smiled, and said, “I call every member of the family Master or Mistress. It’s only proper.”

“But I’m just a guest? I won’t be staying forever. Just until the case with Gabe and his "friends" is over and they’re in prison.”

Alfred didn’t seem at all deterred by Percy’s explanation. In fact, his eyes sparkled like he had just heard a funny joke, or perhaps that he knew something that Percy didn’t. He looked back forward to the road humming thoughtfully.

“Whatever you say Master Percy.”

__________________________________________________________

“Nice to meet you! My name’s Jason!” Jason offered his hand and Percy hesitantly shook it. This kid seemed really friendly considering Percy was invading his home for no good reason.

Jason had black hair just like Percy, but his eyes were a deep sky blue and Percy’s were sea green. He was nearly a foot taller than Percy, and he had a lot of lean muscle that Percy had seen on some of the more athletic kids at school. His hair was clean and cut short which was a poor comparison to Percy’s messy and untrimmed mop of hair. Percy felt like the dirty street kid version of Jason, and honestly, that wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Alfred had taken Percy’s bags to his room and left him to ogle at the massive and lavishly decorated entryway. The only thing that didn’t look like it belonged in a museum was the chandler, which looked surprisingly new. Percy was standing there in silence trying to comprehend the entry room being bigger than the Gordons’ apartment when Jason had decided to make his presence known.

Jason dragged Percy into a much smaller living room type space that Jason called the ‘game room’ and sat Percy down on the couch. Jason grabbed a chair and dragged it over to where the couch was so they could sit facing each other. It felt too much like an interrogation for Percy to completely relax, even if this couch felt like sitting on a cloud.

“Sooooooo, your name is?” Jason’s question hit Percy like a smack to the head. He hadn’t been told anything about Percy coming to live at the manor? Geez, this kid really did have every reason to feel upset at him.

“I’m Percy. Thanks for… letting me stay here for the time being.” Percy really tried to sound excited, but he was really out of it. This whole thing was really overwhelming and he still felt like he was dreaming.

“No problem! I’ve always wanted a bunch of siblings.” Jason seemed really chill with Percy invading his space and everything. This was so weird, everything about this was weird.

“Don’t you mind that I’m staying at your house all of a sudden?” Percy looked down at his hands that were playing with the bracelet Babs made him during craft time at the library. “I’m kinda intruding where I don’t belong, you know?”

“Not at all! You need a place to stay, and Bruce has more than enough room. Plus, like I said, I’ve always wanted a big family. You seem nice enough anyway, better than most kids I’ve met on the streets.”

Percy stared at Jason for a second, trying to process. He was welcome. Okay, no big deal. Calling his dad Bruce, maybe it’s a rich people thing? But there was still the whole issue of…

“How many kids have you met on the streets?” Jason was the son of Bruce Wayne; it didn’t make a lot of sense for him to be running around on the streets of Gotham, making friends with the local teen gangs.

Even if it was a reasonable question, Jason seemed a little flustered, like he had been caught in a lie or something. He looked away from Percy, then looked back again and started to say something but gave up and looked away again. Rinse and repeat about four times before he finally said something.

“Didn’t you know? I was adopted by Bruce straight outta crime alley.” Jason scratched the back of his head, looking a little nervous. “I assumed you knew. It was kinda a big deal four or five years ago.”

Percy stared at Jason, and the image finally clicked. Percy could picture him out at the park on a warm day trying to pick a distracted business man. He had the nimble fingers for it. It did make sense in a way that he was a street kid, he probably understood Percy’s situation better than most if he also came out of a bad situation into this strange world of double bolted chandeliers. (Were they that heavy?)

“Sorry I didn’t know already, but five years ago I was only three years old. I wasn’t exactly checking out the latest high society gossip.” Percy tried to sound apologetic, but his default setting was sarcasm and it came across as ‘why would I care’. Jason seemed to like it anyway.

“Percy, I think you and I are going to be really good friends.”

Notes:

Gordon: Babs, listen. There’s a kid that needs a place to stay since he is a potential witness and a major gang may be after him. He’s going to be staying at the house for a little while till we can place him somewhere safe.
Babs: Brother.
Gordon: …
Babs: Tiny Brother.

Percy: You don’t need to use the fancy title. I’m not a member of the family.
Alfred: Not yet.
Percy: What?
Alfred: What?

Percy: How often have you met kids on the street? You literally are one of the richest kids in Gotham.
Jason: ‘Ooooh crap. Ohhh crap. Think of a reason other than patrol. You definitely didn’t just out yourself after approximately zero minutes alone with him. Think of a reason!’
Jason: I used to be poor?
Percy: That tracks.
Jason: Thanks?

This was such a cool chapter to write! There were a lot of scenes from Percy's early days after the incident that I wanted to include, but these are the ones that actually got written before the posting deadline. I started half of a scene where Babs and Percy actually went to the library and made friendship bracelets, but it never got finished.

This chapter introduces one of Percy's new major traumas! Lets say it together: SCREW SMELLY GABE
Part of the reason the Bats never found out about the mythical world is that none of them are clearsighted enough to discover it on their own, and Percy literally never talked about it with anyone. Meaning, they never investigated or learned anything about Percy's experiences. Percy falsely believing that he is somehow secretly schizophrenic carries with him for a while. It does get resolved, but not until after he gets to camp. So there's that.

Question for y'all to answer: As someone with ADHD, I have considered including some more realistic symptoms for Percy, like an accurate depiction of executive paralysis in particular. However, some of it may feel a little out of character since those kinds of symptoms (at least not as dramatic as I have experiences) are not present in the books. Thoughts? Feelings? This is my first time writing and posting a fanfiction, so I don't know how much creative liberties to take. Let me know in the comments.

Chapter 7: Chapter 4: Dick

Notes:

SO SORRY THIS IS LATE! As many of you may have seen, I am currently in Uni, and school has been nuts. Guys I wish I wasn't such an overachiever, it's killing me.

Health update: I think I have the AO3 curse. Enough said.

Please enjoy this chapter! It took a lot of effort. Leave kudos and comments if you can!

Also... 700 KUDOS? Ya'll are too kind.

As he walked away from the kitchen, he felt like punching a wall. Dick knew that Jason wasn’t okay. How could he be? This week used to be something special, a celebration that he could share with his family. Jason and Percy would celebrate their birthdays together; since both of them were both street kids, they had the trauma induced need to be frugal. Celebrating their birthdays together made it easier for Bruce to justify money he would throw into their celebrations.

Two birthdays, one amazing party.

Jason would invite his friends, Bruce would invite Dick and the Kents, and Percy would invite the Gordons. (Flounder stayed surprisingly close with them even after he got adopted, and it was Babs that insisted Dick step up for Percy. She was a better sibling than him, for sure.) It was normally a pretty small affair, but his younger brothers would have a blast. Alfred would go all out on the food; Percy would get super excited to see what Alfred managed to turn blue that year. Meanwhile, Bruce would throw together a treasure hunt to find all the books he had hidden around the house. The year Bruce gave Jason a first edition copy of “Sense and Sensibility”, he actually cried.

Dick missed those parties. He would usually only go because Babs insisted or because he could never say no to his brothers, but he still enjoyed himself. Hanging out at the manor with Percy around meant that there was no cape stuff, and it was just… nice. And normal. It was so suburban and domestic that the first party they had after Percy moved in, Dick nearly lost it. It was hilarious and upsetting all at the same time. He could barely believe that Bruce had it in him, but once he did, it hurt all that much more. Still, Percy got a clean run, and that had to be enough, right?

No. It wasn’t. It wasn’t enough to keep him safe and away from the cave. It wasn’t enough to give him a better home. It wasn’t enough to keep him safe away from Gotham or keep him safe from the Red Hood. It wasn’t enough to keep him safe from all the pain. It wasn’t enough to keep him safe.

Two deaths, one tragedy.

Now they were all watching the consequences. Maybe it was better that Percy wasn’t around to see it. (It wasn’t. Dick missed him. Wasn’t that selfish?)

Speaking of the consequences, Dick found Tim back in his room, laptop closed, passed out on his bed. The lights were out and it looked like he had pulled a single blanket over his body before promptly falling asleep on top of the covers. Tim was taking a nap at 11:30 in the morning, and if that wasn’t a bad sign, Dick would hang up his overprotective big brother badge for good. The issue was how to approach him.

Dick sized up the situation. Realistically, Tim was definitely still mad at him for bringing up Percy in their earlier argument. On top of that, Tim had been cranky in general this whole week. Add that up, and Dick suspected that if he tried to wake him up, Tim would probably get him in a headlock upon contact. Either that, or threaten to reveal his social security number and/or every bad pun (though few there may be) Dick had ever made in his short career as a stand up comedian. It was always hard to tell if Tim would go for physical violence or social debilitation, he used them both ruthlessly and with no warning.

Still, Jason was right. He needed to apologize. Tim was just trying to cope in a non destructive way, which is all that Dick could ask for. (Better than other ways. Dick couldn’t watch his brother get hurt. Any of them.) Not to mention, this whole thing would be so much worse if Tim was fighting that Percy was alive and had been kidnaped by some strange pantheon of gods.

Dick didn’t feel great about keeping the truth from him, but at the same time, he felt in his bones that Tim would never give up on Percy. Jason was practical, maybe too practical, but that’s what death and Ra’s Al Ghul gets you. Babs had already come to her own conclusions and grieved in her own way (Percy was almost more her brother than Dick’s). Bruce… Bruce was being stubborn like he always is with his children. Alfred had his weird endless optimism. Everyone else in the house was clueless about Flounder, and really probably didn’t know what was going on.

It was all one big mess, which was part of the reason Dick was hanging around this week at all. (The other part was worry about Damian, who had been weirdly focused and cagey lately, but Dick decided to not ask. He could supervise from a distance.) He felt like he needed to be there to handle the fallout of whatever was going to happen, because something always does. Right now he just needed to control the damage preemptively, starting with clearing things up with Tim.

Tim, who was still very much passed out in his bed. Asleep. God, Dick did not see him like this often. If it wasn’t for the circumstances, Dick would have never dreamed of interrupting Tim’s sleep. Maybe that was why he was so woefully unprepared to try to wake him.

Dick started by turning on the lights, hoping that much would stir Tim. (Bats were nocturnal afterall.) Unfortunately, Tim just pulled the blanket over his head. Fortunately, any movement was a positive sign. Next, he tried knocking gently on the door. This partially did the trick because Tim pulled the blanket down to glare at him and threw a pillow, but then he immediately flopped back down and buried his face.

“Uhhhhhh. Dick, could you just- leave? I do not feel like having this conversation right now.” Tim’s voice was muffled by the pillows but the annoyance shined through without difficulty. Unfortunately for Tim, telling him to leave was basically an invitation. Dick stepped out of the doorway and sat down on the side of the bed.

“You don’t wanna talk, fine. I’ve earned that. Do you mind listening though?” Dick waited a few moments before continuing, trying to make sure that Tim had a chance to shove him off the bed or tell him to leave again. He sat there for two whole minutes of silence before deciding that the silence was an affirmative answer.

“I just wanted to apologize about earlier. I’m sorry for pressing the issue, and I’m sorry for pushing you. I get that you want to get through this week as painlessly as possible. Honestly? This-” Dick patted the bed to get his point across. “-is probably the best I could ask for behavior wise.” Tim still didn’t respond, so he let out a sigh. This was a lot harder than he thought it would be.

“The difference between me and you, I guess, is that you want to avoid the pain and I want you to not need to, you know? Like, all this work and naps and stuff, I just wish this wasn’t painful for you at all, and you would sleep because you’re tired and take breaks because you have something you genuinely like more than work and… well, you get the point.” The words were falling out of his mouth before he had a chance to organize them, and it was coming out jumbled. God, why was it this hard to explain himself. He really did care about Tim, but it felt like everybody in this house was cursed with “good intentions, bad outcome.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel worse about how you are acting. There’s nothing wrong with coping, I just wanted you to feel like you could talk to me about it so that I could help.” Dick let his hand drift over to touch Tim on the back, and when he didn’t flinch away, he started to trace circles with his thumb. “I’m here for you. Always. Not because you are doing anything wrong, I just want to make sure you aren’t alone. That’s all I wanted to say.”

They sat there for a while, Tim curled up and Dick rubbing his back. It was a quiet kind of comforting moment, a vulnerable moment that was rare to find in a family of vigilantes. Neither of them felt like moving first as the apology hung in the air, but it was Tim who broke first. He slowly sat up and slid off the bed before turning to face Dick. His expression was unreadable but his eyes were puffy.

“You should come with me to talk to Damian. He, uh, is curious about Percy.” Tim stared at Dick, as if trying to tell him to move on from the mushy stuff already.

“Okay… you do know that I never lived full time with Percy, right? You spent a lot more time with him.” It kinda hurt to say it, but it was one of Dick’s biggest regrets that he wasn’t around more often when Jason and Percy were growing up. Even after Jason’s death he didn’t come around for Percy or Tim nearly enough for what they needed. There were a few moments, but not nearly enough. It didn’t make nearly enough of a difference.

“So what? Percy loved you. He thought you were the coolest. You’ve definitely got a few stories that I don’t have-” Tim paused to think. “-like how Percy actually got kicked out of military school.” True, Dick did know about that, but he had been sworn to secrecy and a pinky promise is an absolute oath.

Tim walked around the bed and headed for the door, face still red and hair entirely messed up. He looked… tired and washed out. His whole body language screamed ‘not okay’, and yet… Tim was standing. He was out of bed and he was going to talk to people about it. ‘Small blessings.’

“Come on.” Tim’s voice was getting a little annoyed at this point. “There is no way I am going to ‘debrief’ with the demon about Percy alone. If I trip up or mix anything up, it’s liable to become an interrogation.”

Dick stood up and gave an exceptionally long yawn before stretching his back and trying his best not to grin as Tim’s expression grew more twitchy the longer he took. If Tim was a super, there was a good chance Dick would have a hole in his head by the time he finished his very slow stand.

“Well… since you asked so nicely, I might as well come along. It couldn’t hurt.” Dick passed Tim standing in the doorway, and narrowly dodged a swift kick from behind.

“Not for you maybe, but the demon is still one of the siblings with the highest number of attempts on my life.” There was a pause as Tim caught up from behind. “Actually, Damian may have more than Jason by now. Huh. Why am I trying to get close to him again?”

Despite his best efforts, Dick couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He reached out and ruffled Tim’s already matted hair. “Maybe because you’re family. That’s why I’m still here anyway.” Dick wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, but Tim just shoved him away.

It didn’t take them too long to track down Damian. He wasn’t in his room or the library, which left the game room or the barn. They struck gold when Tim peaked his head into the game room and spotted Damian on the floor with Titus flipping through a photo album.

“Whatcha doing little D? Found something interesting?” Dick slid past Tim without hesitation and plopped down onto the couch by Damian, who was now attempting to act like he wasn’t startled. Damian looked between the photo album and Dick for a moment before saying anything.

“I asked Alfred to show me photos of the family and he gave me this to look through.” Damian gestured down to the album on the floor. “It’s hardly a database, but it’s sufficient for my curiosity.”

“Your curiosity, huh?” Dick glanced over to Tim, trying to convince him to stop stalling and come sit down on the couch. Luckily, Tim decided to listen and he stepped into the room and plopped down on the couch by Dick.

“Found any good photos of Percy in there?” Tim kept his voice casual, and his question did come across as genuine curiosity. Damian looked down and waited a moment before pulling the album up into his lap. He flipped through a few pages before stopping and lifting the album onto the coffee table so Dick and Tim could see.

“This is my favorite that I have found so far. It seems to be dated about seven years ago.” The photo in question was from Percy and Jason’s birthday party seven years ago. It showed a poorly decorated banquet hall with blue streamers and balloons stuck on the ceiling. A large group of people had squeezed into frame, nearly piled on top of each other. There was a very good chance that Clark was holding Lois up so she would be visible. Commissioner Gordon was wearing a blue party hat and a soft smile that was rare to see on the streets of gotham. Babs was holding a handstand in the front row and Selina was even in the background of the shot. Dick was there too, standing as far as possible from Bruce while still being in the photo.

And there, in the center of the picture, was Jason and Percy, standing with arms wrapped around each other and shining like the reflection of the sun off the ocean. It was like a happy moment captured in film. Dick was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of echoing loss. If he hadn’t failed those two boys, standing there so full of happiness, maybe there would have been a party coming up on Friday instead of the promise of a very uncomfortably quiet day.

“That’s a good choice.” Dick leaned back, trying to steady his emotions. “The hall was a mess because Jason insisted that they should decorate themselves, and Percy and Jason were not the best at design. From what Alfred told me at the party, Bruce tried to help get them organized, but Percy forced him out of the room.” He let out a short chuckle. “Flounder had rigged a tripwire so that when guests started arriving, they would be covered in blue glitter. The stuff did not wash off, even in the shower. Poor Clark had to go on patrol sparkly the next day.”

Tim coughed to cover a laugh and Damian tried to cover up a small amused smile. It warmed Dick’s heart to see them smiling as he talked about Percy. Maybe he should have done this a long time ago. Maybe this was the way to help his brothers let go.

“Weren’t you there too though?” Tim countered. “How did you deal with the glitter?”

“Oh dear brother.” Dick smirked at his comment. “It was the peak of the Discowing era! I was covered in glitter anyway. I was just extra shiny for a while.”

Both Tim and Damian let out a groan at the involuntary image of Dick in his Discowing costume covered in blue glitter. It fit the image all too well, and Dick was way too proud of it for them to get him to stop through shaming. Dick let out another laugh before continuing to tell Damian about the party while watching Tim out of the corner of his eye. It seemed like he was doing better now. He was even adding comments every once and a while. They continued talking, Damian asking questions, Dick answering with an anecdote, and Tim adding his thoughts every once and a while while occasionally throwing things at Dick for being annoying. ‘Ahhhh, good family bonding time.’

After a long while, Damian looked down at the picture and his expression grew a little wistful. He stared at the photo, at Percy smiling and covered in glitter.

“I wish I could have been there. A birthday party of such magnitude would certainly be much more enjoyable than any gala.” Damian’s voice was soft, and there was a quiet ache that settled in Dick’s heart. ‘I want that for you too, Dami.’

It hit Dick all at once that if Flounder was alive, he would have loved Damian. It would have been good for Damian to really get to know his civilian sibling, and Percy always wanted to be a big brother. He was ecstatic when Tim was adopted, and even though he was older than Percy, Percy had worked so hard to make Tim welcome.

It hit Dick that Damian was sitting right where Percy was the first time they met. The day Dick realized what he needed to do fo his family. The day Percy declared what he was willing to do.

Dick was standing in the entryway, Babs behind him (back when she could stand) pushing him forward. Percy was distracted on the floor, trying to work on a… detailed diagram of shark anatomy? As Dick stepped into the game room, Percy finally looked up.

“Sup?” There was no recognition in his eyes, which was fair. Dick had been avoiding this place ever since he heard that Bruce was keeping a civilian pet. (Another one he could drag into danger.)

“...Hey. You must be Percy, right?” Dick slid further into the room as prompted by Babs, getting closer to the couch. Percy seemed to be eyeing him, as if trying to figure out his game or something. Then it hit him, Percy was looking between Dick and Babs, trying to gauge their relationship. Dick decided to take the initiative before things got awkward. “I’m Dick. Bruce’s first kid. I live in bludhaven.”

Percy just continued to stare for a moment, then suddenly, it was like a light went off in his head. His eyes went wide as he glanced over at Babs behind Dick, probably checking for confirmation. ‘Geez, am I that untrustworthy looking?’

“So you’re my big brother? The one who’s never around?” Dick winced. That was a pretty fair assessment. From this kid’s perspective, Dick hadn’t visited home for a little less than two years. Sure Dick had visited occasionally, but that was ‘downstairs’.

“Yep. Thaaat’s me.” Dick let out an awkward chuckle. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Babs.” ‘And Bruce, and Jason, and Alfred who calls twice a week, and Selina at girls' night….’ “I was wondering if you might want to hang out this afternoon.”

“...Why?” Percy didn’t seem offended, just a little lost. It hurt a little to see this kid, who was supposed to be his brother, so confused that Dick would want to spend time with him.

“Well, cuz that’s what big brothers do. We take our siblings out every once and a while. Get into trouble and stuff.” Dick tried to seem enthusiastic about the idea, hoping it would make Percy a bit more excited, but his reaction was unexpected.

“Huh. Well, that’s not what Jason says being a big brother is like.” Dick blinked, a little confused. Percy seemed so adamant that Dick was wrong, and it hit him that Jason was Percy’s big brother too… Dick was still trying to process. but Percy went on. “The way Jason talks about it, it’s not so much about how much time you spend together, but how much you care for and protect your siblings. You have to make sure that they get to have a happier life than you. Jason talks about it like it’s some ‘sacred responsibility’, but I’m pretty sure he just wants an excuse to tell me what to do.”

Dick was dumbfounded. ‘it’s not so much about how much time you spend together, but how much you care for and protect your siblings’. Jason said that? It made sense… but it was still heavy. Was Dick doing that? Was that why he got so mad at Bruce all the time, because he wanted to give Jason a happier life? (Jason was already on the path, it was too late.).

If that was the case, then Dick had royally screwed up with Percy. He had done a terrible job at putting in effort to care for Percy. He hadn’t even met him until today. He had heard from most of his family unit that Percy had deep trauma from his previous step-father Gabe, he had constant nightmares that Alfred helped deal with, he was having problems at school… What had Dick been doing, other than listening to his family talk about Percy’s trouble and standing on the sidelines?

Nothing. Dick had been doing nothing for his little brother, and Percy was his little brother. Even if he wasn’t in the cave, even if he wasn’t in that suit, that didn’t mean there was nothing Dick could do for him. Sure he hadn’t done anything for him up until now, but that was changing right now.

“Sounds like Jason said something pretty wise.” Dick flopped down on the couch next to Percy, just trying to get closer to this kid. It was a little at a time.

“Yeah, I think so too. That’s why I’m working hard to get better at… everything, that way when I’m a big brother, I can help my siblings stay happy and safe! I’ll do anything for the family that chose me. They are the ones who really love you, you know.” He had a point. Percy seemed so genuinely determined that for a second Dick forgot that he was only nine years old. (He would make a great hero).

“I think you’ll do great, Flounder.” Dick stared down at the fish diagram beneath Percy’s hand, and there was a deep warmth in his heart; he wanted to wrap Percy in the biggest hug ever. (He wouldn’t, because Percy would probably startle.)

“Flounder?” Percy looked down at the drawing, before looking back at Dick. “You do know that this is a different kind of fish, right?”

Babs didn’t stop laughing until Dick profusely apologized to both Percy and the fish drawing for making that mistake. Still, the nickname stuck, and Dick knew that Percy would make a great big brother some day….

Dick looked at Tim and Damian, just trying to process how much they had really lost when Percy disappeared. Tim lost his best friend and his little brother, the person who single handedly managed to convince Tim that socializing wasn’t a waste of time. Damian… well, Percy would have been such an amazing big brother for him. Percy would have done everything he could to make sure Damian felt loved. Dick could have used his help when Bruce was gone. (Maybe that’s why he had called Zatana.)

“I wish you could have gone to one of these parties. After Jason died, Percy stopped having big celebrations. It was too painful.” Dick hated how little he could remember about that time. He had been so angry at Bruce that he hadn’t come around much, even for Percy. Tim becoming Robin set him off so badly he couldn’t. Sure, he had come when Alfred told him Percy needed support, but that wasn’t often. (Percy got too good at hiding his problems, he didn’t want to be a burden.) Now Dick was at the manor constantly, and he was there for Damian and the rest of his siblings whenever he could be. Percy taught him that.

Both Tim and Damian looked sad now, which was not Dick’s intentions when he started this whole bonding session. He tried to think of something to help, but his mind was coming up blank. However, Damian wasn’t one to sit wallowing in sad silence for long.

“Richard, perhaps it’s not impossible to remedy that fact.” Damian lifted the album out of his lap and set it down closed on the coffee table, looking like a man on a mission. “Where is father?”

Dick looked over at Tim who looked equally as confused as him. What was Damian thinking?

“I think he’s in his office. Why?” Tim sat up on the couch, leaning forward to reach towards the photo album. Maybe Tim wanted to flip through some old photos too. Afterall, a good number of the photos from the past few years were taken by him.

“Because I am going to request that we hold a celebration in honor of Jackson and Todd.”

…

It took Dick more than a few seconds to process what Damian was saying. He was staring at Tim and Dick as if this should have been the obvious conclusion, but both of them were still in shock. Tim spoke up first, leaving Dick to try to figure out Damian’s line of thinking.

“So you want to have a birthday party for someone who isn’t here and for someone who no longer celebrates their birthday since they died.” Tim’s voice betrayed his exasperation, but Dick wasn’t so doubtful. After thinking about it…

“This isn’t a bad idea, Tim. Actually, I think it’s a great idea.” Dick stood up and grabbed the photo album from the table. “I’ll go with you to convince Bruce.” Dick stopped for a second, then said, “...Actually, we’d have a better shot if we go convince Alfred first. Tim, wanna come help us track him down?” Tim was now looking at Dick like he was insane, and he didn’t hide his doubts about this plan.

“You guys seem to be forgetting one minor detail, this party would be for Percy and Jason, and one of those people has explicitly stated that they don’t celebrate their birthday anymore. That said person-” Tim gave them both a look, “-is also a known killer. I don’t know about you, but shouldn’t we talk to Jason as well?”

Dick was going to argue with Tim, but he made a good point. These birthday parties were always more of a joint affair with Jason and Percy. Not only would it be rude to hold one without Jason’s permission, but it would be nearly impossible to get said permission. He had explicitly told everyone in the family that he doesn’t celebrate it anymore. (Just like Percy. His brother’s were too similar.) They couldn’t just…

“You people are ridiculous. I have to assume that none of you know anything about Todd whatsoever.” Damian stared at them, as if to say ‘you think I am stupid?’ His words were sharp, but he seemed to really believe what he was saying. “Consider why he wouldn’t want to hold a party. Perhaps it was because he also lost someone he used to celebrate. Maybe he didn’t want to celebrate without them.” Damian pointed to the photo album in Dick’s hands. “I think Jason would love to have a party in Percy’s honor, even if it happens around the same time as his birthday.”

Dick didn’t have an argument, and neither did Tim. ‘Why didn’t I think of that? It makes sense… Jason wouldn’t want to celebrate without Percy, and with the hood, his death, Percy’s… disappearance, a birthday party would probably feel wrong.’ Dick sighed lightly and smiled at Damian.

“You are right once again little D. Why don’t we go and track down Alfred and ask about throwing a party together for this Friday?” Damian nodded and didn’t wait for Dick to move, expecting him to follow along. Still, Dick didn’t lose his smile.

‘Oh Percy… you would have loved Damian. You would have loved all of this.’ Dick paused in his thinking for a second, glancing down to the photo album he was still carrying. ‘I haven’t gotten a birthday present for you in a while. I think I need to buy some glitter…’

Dick glanced behind himself to spot Tim following them through the hallways to track down Alfred. Domain in front, Tim behind, no one fighting and no murder attempts, Dick felt like he had been blessed with some incredible luck. Maybe this week won't be so bad after all. Maybe, this birthday was exactly what they needed.

Notes:

Babs: You should go meet your little brother. I have already adopted him, but I am willing to share.
Bruce: Percy would love to meet you sometime. He may not be in the suit, but he’s a good kid.
Jason: Come see Percy! He’s super cool, and he can get tricked into doing stupid reckless things. It’s fun!
Alfred: Poor boy needs all the help he can get. His former step-father really did a number on him…
Selina: Come on! Even I’ve met him, and I’m Bruce’s “special friend”. You’re his brother!
Dick: ….
Dick: Fiiiiiiine.
*1 hour later*
Dick: He is my baby and I will die for him.

This chapter took so long to write! Guys, if you have never tried to write a fanfiction without a plan, good. It’s terrible. 😭 I had no idea what to write for Dick’s part of the story, and I only had a loose plan about what was coming up. Then a bunch of you commented about Jason’s birthday, and this chapter was born! I was always going to do a Percy birthday story, but now it is so much better! Now everyone is sad! (Seriously, what were you expecting?)

However, don’t you love how Dick goes from being in denial that he misses Percy to some actual acceptance? Plus, I threw in some sibling typical interactions, as per my own experience. Also, have we thought about how much Damian really cares for Jason? Cuz I have. In any case, a bunch of you guys have been asking for a timeline, so I threw together a reader friendly timeline:

Percy 1~7: Sally moves to Gotham to avoid monsters. Sally marries Gabe for the same reason.
Percy 7: Sally Dies. Dick fights with Bruce. (Dick 17). Bruce takes in Jason. (Jason 12)
Percy 8: Gabe is arrested. Percy is taken to the manor. (Jason 13)
Percy 9: Percy is officially adopted.
This is as far as you guys have read from Percy…
Percy 10: Jason dies (Jason 15). Percy is sent to boarding school
Percy 11: Bruce spirals and Tim becomes Robin (Tim 11)
Percy 13: Winter: Tim gets adopted (Tim 14) Summer: Jason tries to kill Tim. (Jason 18/Tim 14)
Percy 14: Summer: Goes to orientation for 9th grade next year. Battle of the Labyrinth, book ends in full out war. Jason/Red Hood reconciles with the Bat Family. Damian (re)joins the family. (Jason 20/Damian 10)
Percy 15: Winter: Damian fights Tim. Tim forgives him and moves on. Tim becomes Red Robin and Damian becomes Robin. (Tim 16/Damian 11) Spring: Bruce “Dies”
Percy 16: Winter: Bruce is alive again. Summer: Present
Current Ages: Dick (25), Jason (21), Tim (17), Percy (16(17)), Damian (12)

I know that the ages are a liiiiitttle wonky, but I am doing my best here. Neither story is great on having a clear timeline, and I planned this story before I knew too much about the Bat Fam.

Thank you for all your kudos and all of the love! I appreciate all of it. It helps get me through the week, and I am not even kidding.

Chapter 8: Percy’s Interlude: Ten through Twelve Years-old

Notes:

GUYS. Almost 200 people have this story bookmarked. I might cry. Thank you for all the support! Let me know if you have questions in the comments.

TW Uhhhh, Jason?
TW Executive Paralysis
TW Mistaken Paranoia

Dick wasn’t at the funeral.

There were so many things that hurt about this… situation, but Percy had to focus on the things that were manageable. Being mad at his big brother, totally manageable. He could deal with wanting to yell at Dick for missing Jason’s funeral, that wasn’t going to leave any permanent damage. It was better to want to yell and scream and throw books, better because none of that would really cause problems for the family, not like what he felt like doing to himself because he failed to keep his family safe. (He failed all his family over again. Was he still safe now?)

It was a fairly simple service. A lot of his dad’s friends from work and business and stuff came, even a few of Jason’s friends that Percy recognized. There was a surprising number of people that he didn’t. Some people stopped to give their condolences to Percy. Others barely took time to say goodbye to Jason. (What did they have going on that was so urgent? It’s not like they’re part of the Justice League.) There was an overwhelming number of people present, but at least Jason was loved enough to have a crowd at his funeral. (Not like the small, nobody there service for the single gotham mother who died on the carpet-)

This was the first real funeral Percy had ever needed to attend. His sperm donor was nowhere to be found (and Bruce had tried), and his mother’s body -’Blood and beer and screaming’- had been “taken care of” by some of Smelly Gabe’s friends. Sure, his Dad helped him have a memorial, but it was different when you had real time to grieve and someone to grieve with.

Alfred had been the one to tell him, but his Dad had spent the whole week after with Percy. He had been fine with it. Neither of them wanted to leave the other. They stayed close.

Not Dick though. Percy had overheard him and Dad fighting right after Jason disappeared. (He might have already been dead by then.) Alfred pulled him away before he really understood what was happening, but some things were very clear now. Dick was really mad at Dad. No visit, no contact, but Percy hadn’t expected that he would miss the funeral. It was kind of a jerk move, but he didn’t really want to be mad. He couldn’t afford to get mad. Not when he had already lost one brother. Losing another one might kill him.

But he was still so angry.

Dad didn’t talk much at the funeral. It felt like he was leaving a lot of things unsaid, but Percy couldn’t figure out what was missing. It was like Jason had only been living half a life. It hurt in a way that Percy couldn’t place, but it wasn’t like there was anything missing from his Dad’s memorial speech.

When it was Percy’s turn to talk, there wasn't a lot he could say. The words kept getting stuck in his mouth, and he kept getting distracted by side stories or he would start talking way too fast. (Dumb ADHD.) His speech was longer than he planned, but somehow he skipped all the things he wanted to say. Even the ending wasn’t quite right.

“Jason… he was my brother. He saved me, you know? From the night I ran away from home till the last time I saw him, he was protecting me. I… I have to believe that. Because he was my hero. He was a hero.” Percy didn’t plan to end like this, but there wasn’t anything more he could say. The words were stuck as tears were flooding down his face. He turned away and walked back to his seat before the hiccups started, and all he wanted was Dick to be there to make it all okay.

But he wasn’t. His brothers weren’t there, and his Dad had a responsibility. The funeral had to go on, it didn’t matter that Percy was breaking down.

Percy left with Alfred long before the service was over. He was sobbing so much the other guests were getting worried. A nice man named Arthur even came over and insisted on helping Percy calm down. (He seemed weirdly concerned about keeping Percy’s emotions in check.) It didn’t help much. The longer the speeches went on, the worse Percy got. He didn’t want to hear about how great Jason’s life was, not when it was over.

Percy walked back to the manor from the family memorial cemetery and wondered what he would do now. All he wanted was a real chance to say goodbye to Jason; he needed to see him one last time. (Not some closed casket. Dad said that the body wasn’t something Percy should see.) Percy stood on that hill and paused on the way back home. Alfred stood behind him, not pushing him forward, giving him time.

Percy stared out towards the ocean and sobbed. He sobbed and he screamed and he broke down where he could pretend no one was watching. Percy stared at the ocean, and he mourned.

…

It rained that day. People said it was a large storm that blew in from the sea. The downpour was unprecedented, even for Gotham city. There was flooding in the streets and water running from the rooftops down to the pavement below. Thunder crashed as the storm raged on.

It felt like even the sky knew that Percy was grieving. It was fitting.

__________________________________________________________

‘83… 84… 85…’
Percy sat in the Dean’s office of Longtree Academy trying to count the floor tiles. It was pretty much the only thing he could do to stop himself from fidgeting or making stupid comments. Normally he was allowed to have approved fidget toys that “didn’t distract the other students and didn’t steal Percy’s ‘limited attention’ from his work.” However, he didn’t have time to grab his school bag when he got called from the dorms to the Dean’s office this morning.

He had really done it this time, no need to make the situation any worse for himself. Then again, Percy did have a gift for making situations worse than they already were.

‘98… 99… 100… 101…’ He had counted all the way up to 127 before the Dean’s phone conversation broke his concentration.

“Yes, I do understand that Mr. Wayne- ” The Dean seemed to be in a fruitless struggle to convince dear ol’ Dad that Percy was actually a monster. Many had tried, none had succeeded yet. Thank goodness.

‘Ah, shoot, I lost track of where I was. I have to start counting all over again…’

“Yes-Yes, I understand that, but accommodations for ADHD do not account for property damage. Especially on this scale. This is not-”

‘23… 24… 25… Wait, did I count that one twice?’

“-and we cannot excuse an infraction on this scale, especially considering your son’s history of violence-”

‘37… 38… Were they still mad about that time he punched some upperclassman? That was a month ago and the families agreed to not press charges. Then again, what idiot would try to sue Bruce Wayne. His dad had the best lawyers, sure, but those who were savvy in business knew that Bruce Wayne knew the law better than any Harvard Graduate. Percy had heard stories from Tim- ’

“-and we would like you to send someone to pick him up.” The Dean seemed satisfied with whatever kind of outcome this was as he glanced in Percy’s direction as if to check that Percy looked properly intimidated.

‘Holy- wait, did I miss something? What’s happening? Am I getting suspended?’

“-then Mr. Wayne. I’ll be expecting him. Thank you for your time.”

As the dean hung up, Percy tried to read his expression to figure out what was going on; maybe get a clue about what he was supposed to be so upset about. Unfortunately, the dean had a heart of stone and a face of plaster. Pasty, blank, and a little lumpy. Percy had no chance of guessing off of his expression.

“I hope you reflect on the consequences of your actions, and I hope you are grateful to your father, young Mr. Wayne.” Ahhh, so they were on a last name basis now. That wasn’t great news. The Dean’s tone was level, but his eyes were condescending. There was a reason Percy hated this school.

‘Yeah, screw you too.’

Percy was definitely in trouble, but it sounded like he wasn’t going to be expelled at least. That was good. It sucks that they called his dad though. Alfred was his primary contact, but the dean happened to know his dad from highschool (just like his mom actually) and wanted to speak to him directly. Percy hated bothering his dad at work, and his Dad would drop everything if needed, so the situation was less than the best case scenario. The Dean seemed to pick up on that as well.

“Go back to your dorm and prepare a travel bag. Your ride should be here by this afternoon.” He waved dismissively, moving on like he didn’t just spend an hour arguing with Percy’s dad. Still, the message was clear. He was suspended.

It wasn’t like Percy didn’t like being at home, he just wished he wasn’t going home like this. Not to mention, his dad and Alfred get kinda weird when Percy is at home. They never leave him alone. It’s kinda suffocating. (It had been that way since Jason died. Tim being around had only helped so much, but it wasn’t his job to make Percy’s dad all better. He just wished Tim knew that.) As much as he hated being sent away all the time, it was nice to have some semblance of privacy.

Percy stood to leave, and the dean didn’t stop him. It was clear that neither of them wanted to prolong this conversation. They both knew that Percy screwed up, and they both knew that there wouldn’t be a lasting change in behavior anytime soon. (Bonus points: Percy knew that it would happen again, he had the worst luck on the planet.) Any lecture he could give, Percy had heard a thousand times before from other teachers, principals, deans, councilors... Why beat a dead horse? (Percy hated that expression; why a dead horse? Still, it felt apt to describe him.)

Percy didn’t bother trying to make it to class after what the Dean said. Once he had packed his bag, he flopped down on his bed to breathe for a moment and promptly got very stuck. As much as he wanted to get up, he just… couldn't. He knew he should probably say goodbye to his roommates, but the hours went by and he still didn’t move. He skipped lunch and missed class, but what was the point? He was going home anyway, there wasn’t any real reason for him to get up.

He was still laying in his bed when there was a knock at the door. Percy managed to sit up despite the fog in his brain. He set his feet on the floor and tried to take some deep breaths. Once he was steady, and grabbed his bag.

“Come in.” Percy braced for the worst as he slung his bag over his shoulder. Most of the secretaries at this school thought Percy was a demon, and the councilors had pegged him as a charity case. However, it wasn’t a member of the school staff that came to get him from his room. The door pushed open and standing there was one Dick Grayson.

“Hey Flounder. Ready to hit the road?” Here was his brother, car keys in hand. Percy was momentarily stunned by how unbothered Dick was by this whole situation. He seemed a little too nonchalant for somebody who probably had to drop their work and drive for several hours to come get his brother from school because they got suspended.

Percy tried to focus on feeling grateful, but all he felt was guilt. It couldn’t have been easy to drop everything just because there is some minor issue going on with him. Dick was always like this, and it was hard to deal with. He would keep his distance as much as possible, right up until there was a problem, then suddenly, boom, he was there. It was obvious that Dick didn’t want to be involved with his family anymore, but he was too nice for that. (Percy wasn’t mad. He knew he was trouble.)

“Ye-Yeah! I’ve already got my bag ready.” Percy did a quick turn to show off his very full backpack. Dick nodded, and stepped out of the doorway, letting Percy walk past him. “Is-um-is Alfred in the car?”

“Nope. Alfred is with Bruce at a conference at Queen Consolidated. Alfie called me and gave me your school’s address, said you needed a ride home. I’m supposed to drop you off at the manor, Tim is going to come over for a sleepover to keep you company.” Dick led the way down through the dorm and out to the parking lot. Percy could see his beat up honda in the distance.

Dick unlocked the car and Percy slid in the passenger's seat. Despite how old the car was, Dick kept it surprisingly clean and there was nothing in the back seat, so Percy grabbed his notebook and threw his backpack behind him, settling in for the long drive. Dick picked up on Percy’s mood and didn’t say anything for the first little while. However, Dick wasn’t the best at sitting in silence and Percy could only doodle for so long without getting bored.

About an hour or two into the drive, Dick pulled over at a Big Belly Burgers to get them some food. It was no Bat Burger, but those were rare outside Gotham City limits; even Bludhaven only had two or three in the whole city. The drive through line was basically empty, which meant quick service. (When you are a minor celebrity, you get good at eating in your car.)

Once Dick finished his food, they hit the road, and Dick finally broke the silence that had been hanging in the air.

“Soooooo, you feel like telling me why you needed a ride home in early February? I don’t think schools are sending kids home for Groundhogs Day weekend.” Dick kept his eyes on the road, which was honestly nice. It stopped this whole conversation from feeling like an interrogation. (Dick was a cop after all.) Percy leaned back in his seat and sighed.

“Not particularly. Can we call it bad luck and move on?” As much as he really wanted to get it off his chest, to actually explain himself and clear his name, Percy couldn’t tell Dick what had really happened. (Not when it was all in his head. Gabe was right.) It would be nearly impossible to explain!

It all started a little more than a month prior. It was the winter solstice and Percy was packing up to go home for Christmas. Tons of other kids had left days before, but his Dad had been out of the country for two months and Percy hadn’t been told that he was going to be home for Christmas.

He was so excited about packing up that he hadn’t heard the commotion until a window broke. Percy was startled by the sound of breaking glass, and looked out his own third floor window. He saw a bunch of other boys standing on the back lawn throwing rocks into somebody’s room. He didn’t know whose room it was, and he didn’t know who those boys were, but the smiles on their faces were a little too clownish for this gothamite.

Percy made it down the stairs and out the back door in record time, wearing mismatched shoes and holding his phone. The boys turned to look at him, and Percy could finally see through the broken window into the room. It was some young boy that was definitely a grade or two below Percy. Meanwhile, these boys had to be older than 16. Percy had intended to take a bunch of photos he could give to a teacher or the cops, but when he saw that boy’s face he couldn’t do it. There was a loud roar in his ears, like he was wearing conch shells for headphones.

Percy barely remembered it, but according to the incident report that Percy was forced to sign, Percy punched three 11th graders, broke two noses, and one window. Since Percy “apologized” the other boys told the Dean that it was fine. The families didn’t want to press charges since they found out exactly who the “instigator” was.

Percy didn’t bother trying to explain what really happened. He had punched those boys for no good reason, and violence done in anger was never justified. (Percy would never be able to forgive himself if…) The other boy tried to explain but after the incident happened, his dads came and took him home so he never got a real chance to give his side of the story.

The weirdest part? Percy was so sure that there were four boys. Two blonds, one redhead, and one… one that Percy didn’t get a good look at. (Tim had taught him the importance of profiling your opponents. Not that Percy had many.) Percy had to assume that the other kid ran away or something.

How wrong he was.

The day he got back from Christmas break, he saw the kid again for the first time. He was standing just in the tree line behind the dorms and in front of the woods. Oddly enough, Percy still couldn’t make out his features. It was strange.

After that day, Percy saw him more and more. Sometimes around campus, but mostly just… standing barely inside the woods, staring at the dorms. The more Percy looked for him, the more places he found him. This mystery kid was everywhere, and that was the first sign.

Percy thought he might be a persistent hallucination, like the ones he used to have. Sure there were small ones every so often, but since he had moved in with the Waynes, he hadn’t dealt with anything big like this. It was scary.

As January dragged on, Percy got more and more anxious. He never saw anybody else talking to this kid. It seemed like he was just a part of the background. Percy even asked the boys that he punched if there was anyone else there that day, and they said no. Percy didn’t want to panic, and he couldn’t tell anyone about what he was seeing now that he knew it was a hallucination. Everything would be fine; an imaginary monster couldn’t hurt anyone, right?

Then, it happened. One in late January, the monster boy left the woods and headed for the dorms. He didn’t try to come inside; instead, he just stood beneath Percy’s window and waved. The whole night, he stood there, waving at his window.

Percy nearly had a panic attack, but he managed to stay calm using the breathing exercises that Babs taught him. Still, he didn’t sleep at all that night. He was stumbling around for the whole school day, but he figured it would be fine.

It wasn’t. The monster came back the next night, and the night after that, aaaand the night after that. He started sleeping out of raw exhaustion, but his hallucination was getting more vivid. It was like the longer he looked, the more he could see. By the end of the week, Percy thought he had lost it. Then something happened.

Percy’s class was having a field day on the back field between the dorms and the woods. They were playing capture the flag, and Percy was insanely tired and beyond bored. According to the teachers, it wasn’t safe to play in the woods, so capture-the-flag had turned into an overcomplicated game of tag. Still, it was mandatory to play and the teachers insisted that he stay on the field; that is, until Percy passed out.

He woke up leaned against the dorm building wall, sitting in the shade. Luckily, he had only been out for a minute, so the teacher decided that some water and some rest would be all he needed. Percy stayed sitting there, just watching the game. Eventually, he got bored and started playing “i-spy” with himself.

It was mostly just boring plants and whatnot until he spotted something strange. There was a huge dead spot in the grass. Worse, the yellowed grass was in the shape of two huge footprints. Percy looked up towards the third floor, just trying to check if-

-there was his room. It was right there. This was the spot he saw his monster standing every night, and the grass was dead. That had to mean something? But what could he do? If the kid really was stalking him, he could tell someone, but no one saw this kid. He may still just be a hallucination!

He had to get rid of it. The moment Percy had an action plan, it was like his brain turned on laser focus. He made a plan, gathered supplies, and prepared to enact it. He barely remembered the rest of that day. Once night fell, he was ready.

Percy set a microwave on fire and tossed it out his bedroom window.

It wasn’t an elegant plan, but it worked perfectly. It hit the monster square on the head and he collapsed onto the ground in a small fiery explosion. It let out an inhuman sound and crawled back towards the woods. Percy celebrated a small victory before he saw the teachers come running.

That’s when he knew he had messed up. The next day, there was no sign of the dead grass, as there was now burnt grass instead. There was no blood or brains or any sign of the monster's injury. Percy had probably imagined the whole thing, and unfortunately for him, the students lounge had security cameras.

Yep. He was doomed.

Percy continued staring out the window, trying to ignore the awkward silence that followed his refusal to answer Dick’s question. There was no way to explain what had happened to Dick. Why would he believe Percy? There was no proof his stalker ever existed, no photos, no recordings, no blood, nothing. In everyone else's mind, Percy had committed a senseless act of vandalism. (In Percy’s mind too.)

“Listen, Percy… I get it.” Dick tried to fill the silence between them, using his "sensitive" voice. “I don't know what happened, and it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.” ‘Oh suuure. Said the detective.’ “And believe it or not, I am sure you had your reasons, so I’m not going to push.”

That- That caused Percy to halt his sarcastic internal monologue. Dick wasn’t lying. Percy always knew when Dick was trying to hide something to make him feel better. But what reason did Dick have to believe that Percy had a good reason? Why would he trust Percy when he hadn’t been given any kind of version of the story? It didn’t make sense!

“Why would you believe in me when I-” Percy sucked in a breath. “-When this happens so often?”

“Because you’re my little brother.” Dick didn’t even hesitate. There was no pause in his words, no change in his breathing, nothing. Percy felt a hand on his shoulder and turned back forward to see Dick resting one hand on Percy’s shoulder and one on the wheel. “Wasn’t it you who told me that I had a responsibility to take care of you and make you happy? Well, I’ll add something else; I have to love you unconditionally. That comes with my trust, Flounder.”

Percy couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he started crying, but he knew, in that moment, that something inside of him had been healed; something that had been broken since his mother died and no one listened to him. The feeling of being loved was so tangible that Percy couldn’t stop himself.

Dick pulled the car over when Percy nearly started hyperventilating. He pulled Percy out of the front seat and gave him the biggest hug he had ever had, and they stood there on the side of the road for who knows how long; Percy crying while Dick just hugged him close.

Even after all that, Percy still didn’t tell Dick about the stalker, but he figured he didn’t need to. Dick got it. That was good enough for Percy.

__________________________________________________________

Strangely enough, it was good enough for his dad too. Percy had been left home alone with Tim for approximately 12 hours before his dad came back, bursting into the manor with Alfred in tow with the bags. He gave Percy a hug and said he would be right back to talk about it after he set his bags down.

Percy asked Tim to stick around if he could, since he could use Tim’s presence as a guest to avoid or maybe shorten the interrogation that he was sure would follow. However, much to his surprise, his dad didn’t ask about the microwave. Instead, he asked how Percy felt about school and what options they had for next year.

So clearly Percy wouldn’t be returning to Longtree Academy next year. The way his dad was talking, he may not be returning after his suspension at all.

“Percy, I just want you to be happy, but from what it sounds like, these schools aren’t working out for you. There are lots of other good options in the area-” The ‘area’ being basically the entire United States. Percy knew his dad was willing to place him pretty much anywhere that wasn’t Gotham. “-and Alfred has spoken to some other caretakers in the area that know of some really good schools.” Dad set down a small stack of manilla folders. “I want you to pick this time. Maybe it would help if you had more say?”

He looked at Percy so hopefully that it made Percy’s heart hurt. He wished so much that he could tell his dad everything. He wanted to scream ‘I don’t want to cause problems! I actually want to learn! It’s these stupid nightmare creatures that follow me around and cause problems that make me panic and a billion other accidents that really cause the problems!’

But he couldn’t. Percy didn’t know why, but he couldn’t.

It took a whole week of research (aided by Tim who insisted on helping) before Percy could pick a school. Every single one just looked… the same as all the other schools Percy had been to before. The same rich kids on the cover, the same spiel about how “accessible” they were. It was horrible. Then Tim came up with a brilliant idea. They printed out a bunch of resources and statistics and presented it to his dad.

“Are you sure about this?” Dad set down the folder that they had put together. “The school you picked looks amazing, despite its nature as a reform school. The location isn’t bad either.” He let out a sigh. “It’s not a bad plan… I just- I want to know if you really think using a different name would help you get through school.”

Percy winced. That was the sticking point. However, they had consulted Dick and Alfred before presenting this plan, and they both agreed that using his old last name, Jackson, instead of Wayne might help Percy blend in more. Percy thought it was a good idea, but he wasn’t sure if his dad would go for it. Using a false identity? Not very Wayne-like.

“Listen, do you really want to do this?” Percy nodded. “And you really think this would help?” Percy nodded again. He had worked really hard on this plan, and he really wanted it to work out. Maybe if he went to a more normal school, he could learn how to play that part better. This was a school for helping kids reform anyway, and Percy had gotten kicked out of so many private academies that he was basically overqualified.

His dad sighed again, and really looked at Percy. They sat in tense silence for a whole three minutes, Percy watched the clock behind his dad, before he finally agreed.

“...Fine. Percy Jackson will be attending-ahem-Yancy Academy in the fall.” There was a cheer from the doorway, along with a shhh-ing sound, before the door fell open and Tim and Dick both stumbled into the room. Alfred was standing behind them in the doorway, his expression holding some combination of exasperation and pride.

Yeah. Percy was loved. Who cared about the monsters, or the nightmares, or the accidents. He had his family, and that’s all he needed.

Notes:

I don’t have any funny jokes here, this chapter was genuinely devastating to write. As you can tell, Percy is not doing well. Having two major deaths occur in his family has kinda changed some of his brain chemistry, and we’ll see how that affects things later…

I really appreciate all of your comments and your support. I did have this chapter ready a week ago but I was holding out since I knew this week would be busy.

The day swiftly cometh when Percy shall both go forth as a demigod and return home as a Wayne. Please let me know the kinds of things you would like to see! I have already stolen ideas from the comments many times, and I would do it again.

Chapter 9: Chapter 5: Bruce

Notes:

OVER 1000 KUDOS. What did I do to deserve you.

Barely keeping my head above water as school gets more tough. I live for your comments and kudos.

Edit: It has come to my attention that I misspelled Damian's name as Domain several times, I just fixed it, but please understand that I am a student of the college of math and physical sciences, I can't help it.

Sitting alone in his office, Bruce felt like throwing his pen at the wall. He let out his tenth sigh in the past half hour, taking off his reading glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. A large map was spread out on his work desk; there were red circles and marks scribbled on every continent and hundreds of islands. Bruce stared at the map of recent seismic activity and tried to make sense of earthquakes occurring in places there definitely should not be earthquakes.

In the past week, there had been a massive uptick in seismic activity, landslides, tremors, and cave collapses, almost as if someone was moving the earth itself. There had been earthquakes in antarctica. Antarctica. Bruce couldn’t for the life of him figure out what, or who, was causing it. There was zero consistency in the location and severity of the theoretical attacks. The worst tremors had been in New York and Greece. For Greece, it made sense; Greece was Europe’s most earthquake ridden country by far. However, for New York, earthquakes of this magnitude were incredibly rare, and though they could happen occasionally, it was far too coincidental to dismiss entirely. There was a likely chance that someone had been artificially inseminating seismic activity or manipulating the probability of these kinds of incidents occurring in rapid succession.

Bruce was wracking his brain, trying to spot some kind of pattern. Human physiology applied even when the subject was attempting to be deceptive. If it was abnormal psychology, no man knew those behaviors and patterns of thinking than Bruce. And yet, the attacks showed no pattern, no reasoning, no reasonable motivation for the placement or severity. Beyond the two worst earthquakes, all the other incidents happened without rhyme or reason. This wasn’t a warning or a threat, otherwise the perpetrator would have focused the attacks on either populated areas or unpopulated areas. There would have been clear intent for destruction and it would have been done as a way to grab attention. These attacks were truly random, as if the theoretical perpetrator didn’t follow human psychology at all. They didn’t target human life or property, or even nature. It was like the “attacks” were done on a whim, even accidentally.

Bruce could feel his headache growing worse. His assessment that these events were some form of attack, or even experiments of some kind, was growing less and less likely the longer he considered the facts. It was becoming more and more likely that this was a coincidence, despite being a large statistical improbability. It was more likely that 12 earthquakes, 17 cave-ins, 19 landslides, and 23 miscellaneous earth tremors all happened over the course of seven days than an attack on the planet. This went against all of his instincts, but he couldn’t think of any possible cause beyond seismic instability.

Still, there were still massive damages caused by these incidents and Bruce wouldn’t stand idly by. If there was no need to stress about preventing further incidents, he could focus on cleanup and aid as a representative of WI. He would have to make a list of the most affected areas for the quakes, identify what resources may have been cut off during the event and prepare supply drops, confirm that none of the collapses or landslides left potential hikers or cave divers trapped, double check that none of the quakes had left other instabilities in the earth, reach out to local authorities and heroes to make sure that they have all the needed funds to deal with any fall out-

- Bruce barely managed to catch himself before he picked up his secondary phone to call the Watchtower. His hand was hovering over the drawer where he kept it hidden. The notepad in his other hand already had an optimized list of the first heroes for Batman contact about the disasters. He had fallen once again into old habits.

Bruce tore the page off the notepad and set it aside for later, making a mental note to talk to Tim about WI relief efforts. He rolled up the map he had laid out and set that aside as well, leaving his desk empty of projects. Bruce let out a small sigh. Almost a week ago, Alfred had come to talk to Bruce about taking a short hiatus- at least until after Jason and Percy’s birthdays. Everyone in this house knew that he coped with stress through work; hyper-focused and potentially destructive, work. Even he had to admit that it would be for the best that he stepped away for a short while. The… loss of his second and third children was more than enough to leave scars on his heart and wounds that were best left closed. This time of the year was particularly hard for Bruce, mostly because it was his favorite once upon a time. It was the time to really celebrate two of the things he valued most.

There was a time, after Dick had left home, that Bruce was left with nothing to really celebrate. It wasn’t for long, just a cold and lonely Christmas and a pointlessly boozy New Years. Bruce never cared much for the holidays, what mattered was his family and the people he cared about. He had nothing to look forward to without his son to… well, give him a reason to get up early on Christmas morning and hide eggs around the Batcave on Easter and a reason to see more for his future than the next case, the next breakout, the next loss.

Then came Jason and Percy. Jason first, by about a year, then Percy not long after. Suddenly, there were things to celebrate. In fact, Alfred and the boys kept finding new things to celebrate. Jason wanted to throw a party after Percy did a manual on his new skateboard, Alfred wanted to go out to celebrate Percy and Jason’s third place entry for the science fair, Percy wanted to celebrate Valentines Day by watching all of the extended Pride and Prejudice show with the whole family. It seemed like every week, there was something new and exciting that was worth showing up for.

Bruce decided that he wanted to celebrate something, so he planned birthday parties for the boys. When he told them the plans, he was criticized by his youngest son about the waste of money and his middle child about the waste of food. When they realized they could simply have a party together, they were off to the races, planning the party of their dreams. Bruce couldn’t figure out why they would prefer to have a joint party when they could just as easily have their own celebrations individually, but he wasn’t about to stop something that made his boys happy.

What a good decision that was. By the end of the night, he was covered in glitter and was deeply confused about what “Hurricane Tortilla” was. However, Dick had shown up for the party. So had a number of people Bruce hadn’t seen in a whil since he was being busy with Batman, the company, and being a father. All together, the party was surprisingly relaxing. It was a celebration of family above all else, and “Bruce” really fell into place as a person.

For a blissful two and a half years, "Bruce" would show up for everything. He would attend every party and performance. Bruce, not Batman. Dick needed Batman, he needed an example to believe he could do more than live for revenge. Dick would have become a murderer at eight years old just to do something to escape a sense of helplessness and loss. Batman could show him a better way. Jason also needed Batman; he needed to be more for the city, to make a difference. Jason needed to be seen, to prove himself to the world. Those boys needed Batman first. At least, that’s what he believed. He believed it for years, the best he could do for those boys was be Batman.

Until Percy came along. Percy, who was angry but never mean. Percy, according to Barbara, who was scared of Gordon but would rather have panic attacks than push Babs out of her room. Percy, who didn’t need any guidance or opportunities to do more for people. He was raised kind enough by Sally Jackson to douse the burning rage, but hurt enough by Gabe Uglino that he didn’t want to do anything more than survive. Batman was useless to this boy.

Percy didn’t need a hero, he needed a home. Bruce hadn’t really been a civilian in a very long time, and he discovered very quickly that “Brucie” wouldn’t fly with Percy. So he didn’t give Percy Batman or Brucie, he set aside his masks and dusted off Bruce. He tried his hardest. He worked, and he changed, and after everything, Bruce became what Percy really needed. And maybe down the line, he realized that Bruce was what Dick and Jason needed too.

Jason tried harder to have a civilian presence so he could be there for the little brother he loved. Dick was dragged in the manor door by one Barbra Gordon who insisted that things were getting better with the boys around. Bruce watched as his family became more than a team, they became just that, a family. As Bruce became more of a father, his boys really felt like they were at home.

But Bruce realized too late that this is what he was missing. Dick had been hurt by all the years of having a mentor, but not a father. The wedge had been slammed down and even Bruce couldn’t bridge the gap. Batman wasn’t enough to save Jason, so slow and so blind to his son, but Bruce wasn’t enough to comfort Jason in his passing, wasn’t enough to leave him with happy memories to come back to. And for Percy… after everything, Bruce fell apart at the seams and Batman was the only thing left.

Then came all the mistakes. Batman fell into manic productivity, refusing to let anything else go wrong. He was hunting all hours of the night and researching cases during the day. Batman became a permanent presence and Bruce became the mask once again. Percy didn’t need Batman, but his father was a useless shell of a man. Bruce stepped up to send Percy away from Gotham, someplace where the risk of a repeat incident was lower. He stepped out of Percy’s life because he couldn’t be the man, the father, that Percy really needed.

Bruce flipped through the pamphlets for the 63rd time. He briefly considered asking Robin what he thought about the schools, but he decided against it. Robin barely knew Percy at all, and Bruce was still tempted to find a way to convince this kid to lose the cape. This young boy had barely any experience or skill. He hadn’t given Batman much of a choice, but they were two months into training and he was barely street ready, much less combat ready. He had been pushing to join a real case and Batman couldn’t deny his talent, but there was too much risk involved. He was stubborn, just like all of his boys.

There was a flash of blue eyes, crinkled with anger. Then a different set, inlaid with blood. Then they became green, wide and tearstained. His boys. Not only that, there was too much loss; there she was in the hospital bed, looking at wheelchairs. Young heroes who relied on a broken man. He had already failed too many children. This, this couldn’t be the same.

He stared down at his desk, pamphlets for boarding schools and a manila folder full of candid shots of Batman and Robin. He couldn’t mess this up. He needed to keep them safe.

Batman could feel another headache coming on. He needed a drink.

… (What was he doing?) …

… (He promised he would do better.) …

… (He had already failed. At least this way he could stay functional enough to be Batman.) …

That night, he drank enough to make a sailor weep. When Percy discovered him in his office, the smell was enough to trigger a major panic attack. It hurt so much to watch his son be so terrified of him. Alfred carried Percy away in tears. Batman picked a school and got Percy enrolled an hour later. He buried the regret alongside his pride. He lost his right to be a father that night.

Somehow, the world didn’t get the memo that he was giving up on taking in kids.

Bruce found himself staring at the empty wine cabinet in his office that he hadn’t bothered to refill in nearly two years. Whether by coincidence or through subconscious pressure, he had gotten sober once again. It still stung that Percy wasn’t around to see it. He mentally shook himself once again. Bruce was usually not one for mindless reminiscing, only calculated recal. This was more than enough proof that it was the right decision for him to step away for the time being.

His mind was wandering into old memories and he had no work waiting for him at the company since Tim basically taken over WI. Still he couldn’t relax. His fingers were drumming against the table as he counted the number of days since anyone had last heard from Atlantis.

He justified this line of thinking by reminding himself that Atlantis was a foreign country that WI was trading with. Even if he was no longer CEO, he was the owner and largest shareholder of Wayne Industries. Atlantis represented a vested business interest. Not only that, but Arthur was a personal friend. Bruce had every right to worry about a friend that had gone radio silence for no observable reason and hadn’t been heard from or even spotted in the past four months. That was definitely something friends had a right to be concerned about, and as a friend, Bruce had no reason not to look into the seismic activity just to make sure that there was no unnoticed event that could have hit Atlantis. Earthquakes could do quite a bit of damage underwater afterall.

Bruce grabbed the map he had set aside and rolled it out once again, taking note of where the earthquakes had been and assessed the potential damage for underwater cities. Honestly, it wasn’t looking great. At least one earthquake, that Bruce knew off, was close enough to Atlantean waters that it must have had some effect on the surrounding areas. Not only that, but a number of smaller underwater earthquakes could potentially go unnoticed by surface seismologists. Normally Bruce would be able to reach out to the seismologists in Atlantis, but as previously mentioned, there had been no contact from anyone in the past few months.

It was concerning how quickly radio silence began. In the past few years, Arthur had been spending a lot of time dealing with unexplained “conflicts” in his kingdom, but at the very least Arthur would maintain contact and occasionally come to Justice League meetings only to leave, throwing out a poorly executed excuse. This time, Arthur didn’t say anything ahead of time. Batman managed to track down a short note hidden in the Watchtower that only created more questions:

“Sorry. I delayed this as long as I could. Technically it was supposed to blackout starting in December. Atlantis will be fine. Can’t say more.”

There were very few people that Batman could think of with the right to tell Arthur to pull Atlantis into a complete blackout. Even fewer that could convince Arthur to keep the situation entirely under wraps. Batman suspected that even this note was pushing it. It left him with an uncomfortable amount of unknowns, and as time went on, he grew more and more concerned. If Bruce didn’t hear from Arthur before his hiatus from Batman ended, he was going to track down the Atlantean and get some answers.

Bruce could feel a headache coming on as he took off his reading glasses. He rolled up the map once again, this time standing to put it away in a cabinet. There was no point in sitting alone in his office when there was no work to be done and all of his children were visiting today. There was no official celebration going on, but there was still a desire to give silent support and it drew all of them to the manor today, even in the “vulnerable” one in question.

Little did he suspect that the door would fly open with enough force to cause the door to bounce against the doorstop and swing back into the face of his unsuspecting eldest son.

‘A romani police officer, a caucasian ceo, and an arabic vegan walk into a room' sounded like the beginning of a joke. Instead, it was a form of home invasion where Bruce’s private working space experienced a sudden influx of excited children. Dick still had a red spot on his forehead from where the door smacked him in an act of brutal revenge. Tim was holding an old photo album in his arms, looking a little anxious. Damian had that look on his face. The same look he would get just before trying to convince Batman that he could go on a dangerous mission and he did not need any support. Whatever this was, Bruce had a sinking feeling that something was about to go wrong.

“Father. I request that we hold a birthday party to celebrate Jackson and Todds advancing in age.” The statement was blunt and straight to the point. Damian didn’t pull any punches, and Bruce hadn’t been prepared for that particular request and he was momentarily left stunned. He slowly processed what Damian was asking... before his confusion increased once again. How had Damian even learned about Percy and Jason’s joint birthday parties? Sure, it wasn’t as if there were no records of those events; So, Damian could have learned about it from any number of places. With that realization, a beat later he moved on to his next big question, why Damian was asking about this, and not one of his other two brothers who were standing behind him?

“How did you hear about their tradition?” Bruce asked this question carefully. He didn’t want to imply that Damian couldn’t learn about Percy; when he had first heard from Alfred about Damian’s curiosity, Bruce was proud of his attempts to connect to his family, especially the sibling he never met. Bruce knew very well what Talia had taught Damian to believe about Percy. This question was meant to figure out what had motivated this question. Once he had a better idea of the situation, he could come up with a reasonable explanation as to why they couldn’t have the party.

“I was looking through an old family photo album and I stumbled across a photo of one of Jackson and Todd’s birthday celebrations. I was curious about the event, and Richard coincidentally happened by with Drake. I asked him to clarify the details of the event and he explained the situation.” Damian paused, glancing back at Tim who was holding the aforementioned photo album. As if on queue, Tim flipped open the book to a page towards the middle and turned it around to show Bruce the photo in question.

There was his boys. Percy and Jason standing in the middle and doused in blue glitter. Dick was hiding in the background, but he couldn’t disguise the smile on his face. Bruce remembered taking this photo. Clark was looking more than a little flustered, having been dragged into frame despite volunteering to take the photo. His cousin, Kate, was behind the camera instead. She claimed she wasn’t photo ready but Bruce suspected that she wanted to play photographer. Lois was holding the typewriter she had purchased for Jason like it was a trophy or a spoil of war. Gordon had somehow spared from the glitter but Babs hadn’t been so lucky. The blue in her hair made it look like she had stood under a firework but somehow she made it look like it was intentional. And behind his boys, there was Bruce. He had a relaxed posture, as if the tension in his shoulders had been released all at once. He was leaning down to be closer to the birthday boys and his hair was tainted with blue glitter. This photo pulled him back into a memory that he had long since diluted. God, those had been easier days.

“I believe it would be a good opportunity for this family to… bond if we were to throw this party in Jackson’s honor. I also believe it would be good for Jason to have a chance to do something for Jackson, even if he clearly has little interest in his own birthday celebration.” Bruce detected a small lie there, but it didn’t seem to be a harmful one. If Damian wanted to make Jason celebrate his birthday without realizing it, Bruce wouldn’t step in and stop it. This was between his sons. As much as he didn’t like to acknowledge the time Damian was with the league, Jason and Damian had known each other for a long time; if anyone could pull off a bait-and-switch like this, it would be Damian.

They were very clever to bring the photo album with them. As Bruce looked at the photo of his small family from all those years ago, he wondered if there was a chance here for him to bring his family together once again. Damian wanted to learn about Percy and cheer up Jason. As for the other boys… Bruce wasn’t sure exactly why they were willing to go along with this, but he wasn’t going to argue against the idea.

“Are you boys going to put this together yourselves?” According to tradition, Bruce wouldn’t be involved with the planning, and Alfred would be informed but minimally engaged in the planning. If he had any say in the party, he would like to reduce the odds of copious amounts of glitter. If not, he could only hope that Dick would be responsible enough to say no to long lasting glitter on a patrol night.

Damian glanced back once again, but this time he was looking towards Dick for assistance. Rather than stepping up to answer the question, Dick just nodded at Damian, as if to urge him forward.

“I would like to plan this party with help from the rest of my… generation.” His words were deliberate and he didn’t make eye contact with Bruce. There was a sting as Damian made an innocent request with this much hesitation. There was a long beat of silence where Damian hesitated again before continuing. “Ahem- If we have your permission to proceed, you will be given an invitation with details by tomorrow.”

Bruce didn’t know what to say. He almost wanted to laugh. There was a tangle of emotions that were growing harder to ignore. As much he was hurting over the loss of Jason’s childhood and his relationship with Percy, Damian was actually stepping up to do something. It was an earnest and well intentioned request and Damian had teamed up with Dick and Tim for the most emotional leverage. Bruce didn’t want to deny his boys… The desire to laugh bubbled up once again. Wasn’t he just thinking about how much he missed these parties? What was stopping him from saying yes?

Dick must have sensed Bruce’s hesitation, because he finally stepped up to advocate for Damian’s plan. “It’s not a memorial or anything like that B. I know we have disagreed on many things regarding Percy and Jason, but a party can only help the family right now.” Wasn’t that the truth. It seemed like Bruce couldn’t do anything right by Dick for years after he left to become nightwing. Alfred had been persuaded to support the boarding school plan, but Dick claimed that Bruce had been selfish and offered to take custody himself. That was a rough few fights. It reminded him of how far they had come in repairing their relationship. This party could be another step in the right direction.

“We could all use the time to learn about each other. I’m pretty sure Babs has some stories about Percy that she has never shared before. I have at least one shopping adventure whose confidentiality hasn’t been renewed. Not to mention, Jason can’t argue if the party is for Percy and him.” Dick put a hand on Damian’s shoulder and winked. “Flounder was always his weakness. He likes his brothers more than he’d ever admit.” Tim scoffed, but even he had a trace of a smile on his face.

Seeing his boys present a united front to do something kind for each other melted Bruce’s resolve. He couldn’t say no, no matter how complicated it felt. If they wanted to hold a celebration regardless of Percy’s absence, then he wasn’t going to stop them. Not to mention, this would keep them distracted and hopefully prevent any property damage.

“Alright, you can have the party.” Dick cheered and Tim gave Damian a subtle high five. “But! Make sure to talk to Alfred first. He will approve any decorations.” Bruce didn’t want to walk into the ballroom to discover some massive contraption with deadly potential or an entire petting zoo.

The boys shared a look, and there was a moment of silent deliberation. Glances passed around the trio and there was a passing look of disappointment on Dick’s face. Tim shrugged and spoke. “We can work with that.”

“Good. I’d like a heads up on the timing and dresscode by dinner tomorrow night. Alright?” Bruce overlaid his voice with just a bit of Batman to make it clear he was serious. The boys responded with unenthusiastic noises of agreement. “Thank you. Make sure you talk to Jason sometime tonight or tomorrow about your plan. He’d want to know as soon as possible.”

The boys didn’t wait before they rushed out of the office, Dick pulling Damian and Tim following with a feigned disinterest. Once they had left the office, Bruce finally let out a small chuckle. Maybe he had something to celebrate this week after all. Even after years of damage, it seemed like they were finally healing.

Bruce stood back up and set down the photo album that Tim had handed him. He might as well go check on Duke and the girls. Last Bruce had heard, they were in the middle of binging some K-drama that Steph claimed was life changing. Maybe he could join them for a while. Bruce felt like spending some time with his kids.

Notes:

Bruce: What is going on with the seismic activity this week? This makes no sense!
Percy, 1 day prior: Who wants to kill their grandma? Hundreds of hands raise. Me too!

Two days after Dick found out that Percy was going to boarding school:
Bruce: This is for the best! I’m not… safe for Percy right now. There wasn’t anywhere else for him to go.
Dick: Wrong. I’ll take custody.
Bruce: …what?
Dick: Somehow holding Percy. I’ll raise my brother if you can’t handle it.

Guys, I lived! It’s been a… time trying to survive this semester of uni. Sorry I missed last week's update. I’ll try to write ahead so I have a backlog of chapters so this doesn’t happen again.

What am I supposed to do with all the wholesome interactions I want to show between Bruce and Percy during their early years? 😭 I have a whole scene I want to write where Bruce apologies for not talking and engaging with Percy as much as he should cuz, you know, he doesn’t fight crime so B doesn’t have much material, and Percy tells Bruce how much he appreciates how much of a good listener he is. I may need to write a whole bonus fic just to archive these interactions. Plus I could throw in the scene I half wrote where Babs and Percy go to the library.

Bonus Funny:
Hearthside: Info dumping about batboys to friend … and that’s why I really like Tim! He is a lot more complex than most fans give him credit for. He’s my favorite!
Poe: … Didn’t you just say that Jason was your favorite?
Hearthside: They are all my favorites. I love all of them.
Poe: Uhuh. Uhhhh, how many Robins are there?
Hearthside: Maniacal laughter echoes in the distance. Well…

Chapter 10: Percy’s Interlude: Twelve Years-old

Notes:

Hey! I'm alive! Turns out depression isn't always wanting to die. Sometimes it's just not wanting to live. Who knew!
Yeah, so if you can't tell, I hit a rough patch and I wasn't able to do any of the things I normally enjoy, including writing. Hence, no updates for months. However, I am taking important steps, including meeting with a potential therapist for the first time ever.
Much love guys!
TW Panic Attack

When Percy Jackson got dropped off at Yancy Academy, he was super excited. It was the first time he would be attending school (since his mom died) without the pressure of his last name leaving everyone with expectations that he just… couldn’t meet. Percy loved his family, like a lot. Would die for them and all that jazz. But the fact is, he didn’t really live up to his name. His dad was amazing and smart and super successful, Dick was a super skilled acrobat and insane detective, and Percy knew that once his dad realized Tim didn’t have any family, Tim would join the already long roster of “Waynes who are way too talented for this world.”

Percy just wasn’t like that. He had ADHD and dyslexia and panic attacks and nightmares and no real skills at all. Going to Yancy with his old last name was like going undercover. This was his chance to make friends the normal way and figure out what made him special. (If there was anything at all. Sometimes he doubted it.) Percy was ready to make the most out of this new school year and try his hardest not to screw it up.

With an entirely unfounded sense of confidence, he walked right up to the front desk and asked for his new student packet. The nice office lady asked where his guardian was. When Percy explained that they had just left, she gave him a sad expression that he didn’t really get. Her face was knitted up as if she was concerned about Percy for some reason. (Waynes weren’t often on the receiving end of pity most of the time.)

She then asked if the person who brought him here was going to “stick around” for orientation day. Dick had driven him to Yancy, but he was an adult with a life, he had places he needed to be so Percy sent him off with a hug. Why would he need to stick around?

Apparently, to help Percy get settled. Orientation at Yancy, also called “move in day”, was basically a tour for parents and guardians. Every orientation presentation was geared towards looking good in front of the adults. They talked about their success rate, their accommodation policy, their student mentorship program.

Percy sat alone at the opening ceremony and ate alone at lunch. By the time he finished the group tour through the educational facility, he felt crappy. All the cool things that Percy and Tim had liked about the school seemed much less exciting now that he was here, alone, and pretty much ignored by everyone. After the tour, all the students were given their dorm assignments so parents could drop off their stuff and say goodbye. Percy just wanted to find his bed so he could crawl into it and sleep until the embarrassment went away.

The nice office worker handed him a folder with the name “Percy Jackson” on the front. It took him a moment to remember that he was “undercover” at this school. When he did, he felt lonely for some reason. Percy found a corner of the hall where he could sit for a minute before flipping the folder open. At the very top was his class schedule. Alfred usually picked his classes, so it was a small surprise to see what he was going to be taking. His electives were going to be “fine art” and “creative writing”, both looked fun enough. Apparently, this school was the right kind of pretentious where everyone had to take a Latin class, but Percy figured it wouldn’t be any harder than the Classics courses at his old school. Benefits of a rich upbringing was a weird amount of confidence in a language that nobody even spoke anymore.

Percy moved aside his class schedule to look at his room assignment. There was a brief moment of confusion when he saw a page titled “roommate”. That was new for him, since his dad usually just paid to give Percy his own space, but it looked like that wasn’t an option at this school. Percy could have sworn the pamphlet said there were single rooms available.

‘Grover Underwood. Huh, I hope they’re nice.’ He had heard from some of his old tutors that roommates either become super close friends or the worst kind of annoyances. Right now, he could really use a new friend. Feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety, Percy grabbed his backpack and suitcase and headed for the dorms.

Once he finally tracked down his room, Percy nervously popped his head inside, but it didn’t look like his new roommate had dropped off their stuff yet. ‘Could still be saying goodbye to their folks. I’ll meet them later I guess.’. He let out a small breath, feeling a little relieved. Percy threw the bag he had been hauling around campus with him onto the left bed. The rest of his luggage had already been moved into the room while he was at orientation, forming a small pile on the ground, so he had plenty of work to do before this “Grover” kid got back.

Percy grabbed the ipod Dick gave him for his birthday two years ago; it was, thus far, the only piece of technology that he owned that hadn’t somehow broken for no reason. (Tim was still confused on how Percy managed to shut down a Nokia phone within a week of owning it. Percy was grateful when it gave up, the phone gave him bad vibes.) He threw on whatever music he had been listening to in the car before zipping open the first suitcase.

While he was unpacking, Percy fell into a flow state and didn’t notice how quickly time was passing. He ran through album after album, humming along and throwing clothes into drawers. Finished one suitcase and moved onto the next. Before he had a chance to realize, he had already missed dinner and there was still no sign of his roommate.

Percy wasn’t exactly sure when curfew was, but it couldn’t be too far off. He should play it safe and stay here. Grover could be coming tomorrow morning before classes start. Percy missed orientation at his last school because a rogue attack delayed traffic in gotham; apparently it takes nearly a whole day to clean ketchup off of the freeway. Alfred decided that it would be better to wait until the next morning, so he missed all of the first day. That had been an adventure. Still, Percy figured a quick walk around the dorms to look for his roommate wouldn’t get him in that much trouble, school hadn’t even started yet.

He popped his head into the hall, checking for trouble before grabbing his water bottle for a convenient excuse if he got stopped by a teacher. The dorm building was fairly large, but much smaller than the one at Longtree. Percy turned down another hallway, stopping when he spotted two people talking in the common room. He turned back and pressed himself against the wall on instinct.

“... Percy is your roommate, and he is probably waiting for you.” It was an older male with an odd accent that Percy couldn’t place, but his voice was gentle; like he was soothing a skittish animal. He said Percy’s name… was the other person his roommate?

“Yeah, but what if I mess it up again? Maybe I’m not the best choice. He could be…” Young, probably around Percy’s age. They seemed really anxious. Were they worried about making friends like Percy? Maybe he should step out and offer to help with their bags. That’s the “friend” thing to do, and he couldn’t exactly go to bed with his roommate downstairs.

“Excuse me, I was looking for a place to refill my water bottle…?” Percy stepped out from behind the wall as casually as possible. He didn’t want to freak out his roommate by making them think he was a stalker or anything.

The older male absolutely beamed at Percy’s appearance while the student Percy assumed was Grover looked panicked like a deer in the headlights. There was a moment like a silent exchange between the two, then the man rolled his wheelchair over to Percy and shook his hand.

“I am Mr. Brunner. I teach Latin here at Yancy. And you are?” Mr. Brunner looked every part the teacher he claimed to be, and Percy had no reason not to trust this man. Percy swallowed the automatic discomfort from facing an adult man and offered a smile.

“Percy. Percy, uh- Jackson.” Mr. Brunner nodded and Percy almost breathed a sigh of relief. It was hard to remember he had switched back to his old name- he had almost introduced himself as a Wayne. He would have to remember to respond to Jackson in class. Percy zoned back in to the situation after fifteen seconds of uncomfortable silence and Mr. Brunner was studying him as if he was trying to identify something about Percy just from his face.

“Nice to meet you Percy. This is a nice coincidence, isn’t it Grover.” The student next to Mr. Brunner glanced up anxiously, grabbing their bags and approaching Percy and Mr. Brunner. “He is going to be your roommate this year. I hope the two of you will look out for each other.” Grover nodded as if he had been given solemn orders and Percy felt a small spark of hope. If Grover was as much of an anxious wreck as Percy, then they would probably get along pretty well.

“Nice to meet you Grover! Need any help with your bags?” Percy offered his hand, trying to sound confident. Grover shook his hand, offering a small smile.

“Sure. Wanna show me how to get to the room? I missed the dorm tour.” Percy grabbed Grover’s other suitcase and he turned back to the hallway. Grover followed behind, offering a nod to the teacher. Mr. Brunner waved them both upstairs with a small knowing smile.

Percy didn’t know why Mr. Brunner was hyping Grover up so much- it could be that Mr. Brunner just wanted to help a student, or it could be that Grover came alone today like Percy. Either way, it seemed like the two of them were two of a kind. For the first time during this whole mess of orientation, Percy really felt like he might have a shot of having a good year.

__________________________________________________________

“I swear to the Gods, Nancy is secretly a monster.” Grover banged his head down onto the table, narrowly missing his lunch tray. “There is no way a regular girl has this much bloodlust.” Percy tried not to laugh at his friend's theatrics, afterall, it was a very real concern.

“I don’t think she’s trying to hide it, G-man.” Nancy had spent all of Gym class reminding Grover that he wasn’t allowed to participate in field day while simultaneously whaling on Percy in dodgeball. “Besides, you're not the one with a billion new bruises. Isn’t dodgeball banned at most schools?”

“It should be.” Grover sat up, suddenly feeling motivated by the realization that it was lunch, and he had an apple to devour. “But I’m pretty sure Yancy scares all the school inspection people.”

“Ahhhh-” Percy took a bite of his potatoes and grimaced. He missed Alfred and his amazing cooking. “They know Nancy is here and they don’t want to get torn to bits. If I had known, I would have gone somewhere else too.” Grover snorted and Percy couldn’t hold back his laugh this time. The moment they made eye contact, they completely lost it.

Percy felt happy. It took him by surprise sometimes; he wasn’t used to feeling comfortable without his family close by, but there is a first time for everything. Grover was, well, he was Percy’s first real friend and it happened weirdly fast. Enough jokes about Nancy and the other bullies, a few mentions of the small garden at home, and time where Percy gave Grover his lunch because he was feeling sick, and suddenly they could tell each other anything. Percy hadn’t told him anything about Gotham, but if he asked, he totally would. Percy hadn’t asked about Grover’s family either and he didn’t care to. Grover was his friend and that was more than enough for Percy.

“We should probably head to Latin. Mr. Brunner gives me the ‘look’ whenever we come in late.” Percy lifted his fingers to put the word “look” in quotations. Mr. Brunner had this look he would give Percy whenever he did anything even a little substandard. It was like, “I thought you could do better than this”. It always made Percy feel like he had been lectured by Alfred.

Grover picked up his tray and grabbed his satchel from the floor. Percy followed suit, heading for the tray return by the exit. They barely made it ten feet before Percy felt a foot hit his leg, sending him stumbling forward. He barely managed to maintain his balance, but Grover wasn’t so lucky. His tray was on the floor and the rest of his lunch was too. Percy whipped back to see who had tripped them, and sure enough, it was the devil herself.

“You’re lighter on your feet than you were this morning Jackson. Learned your lesson?” Nancy smirked and Percy’s bruised back ached. Grover sat up and grabbed his tray, looking a little dazed. Nancy’s eyes locked onto the movement like a tiger. “And Grover- maybe you should work on your balance. It’s not like you can’t walk or-” Nancy’s smile widened. “-oh wait.”

Percy heard the roar calling in the distance. Grover stumbled up to his feet and was tugging on Percy’s jacket but he barely noticed; there was a riptide in his veins. Nancy was asking for it, and the tray in his hands wouldn’t do any permanent damage-

(Screams, glass, broken pipes, Gabe in the bathroom-)

Percy took three calming breaths. He could hear Dick in the back of his mind, “Listen Percy, I understand the feeling of overwhelming anger. I get wanting revenge- but there is nothing good that comes from lashing out when you are angry. Think it through and plan ahead.” Percy loosened his grip on the tray and let Grover pull him over to the lunchroom doors.

“One of these days, I am going to scare Nancy off.” Percy set his tray on the stack and glanced back into the lunchroom. Nancy had gone back to eating without a care in the world. “She shouldn’t be able to get away with this just because her mom says she needs ‘special care’.”

Every time Nancy got in trouble, her mom and her counselor would swoop in and remind them that Nancy wasn’t really hurting anyone, and insults were a big improvement from punching teachers. Then the school would have Nancy meet with her counselor and send her back to class with no consequences.

“Sure. But you don’t want to get kicked out in the process, bro. I need you to stick with me. I can’t do this alone!” Grover rested his hand on Percy's shoulder and it reminded him too much of Dick to push it off. Percy took another breath and let the roar fade into the distance. Percy turned away from the lunchroom and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, yeah. But you can’t convince me that you could pass half of these classes without any of our study sessions.” Percy gently bumped into Grover, offering a teasing smile. They studied together whenever they remembered to study, but it was always for Percy. “I swear you have all of Greek mythology memorized!”

Grover let out an awkward laugh and Percy let himself relax. Everything was fine. Grover was fine, Percy was fine, and Nancy- Nancy would get what’s coming to her eventually, but Percy wasn’t going to be the one to do it. Justice wasn’t his department; he wasn’t a hero or anything. All he needed to focus on was passing his classes and not getting kicked out, and so far, one of those things was going pretty well.

When Percy walked into the classroom and saw Mr. Brunner in armor, he knew that the other one was in Jeopardy. He groaned internally, trying to run through anything he could remember on their last few units. There were a bunch of names and places and they had started going over the mythos of some Gods a few weeks ago, but all Percy could think about was how much this was going to tank his grade and how disappointed Mr. Brunner would look when he handed back Percy’s grade.

Grover put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and gave him a concerned look. Percy mustered a smile and tried to slow his thoughts. As Mr. Brunner passed by to set a paper face down on Percy’s desk, he also offered a comforting smile. Percy slid into his seat and let his body relax. Everything was going to be fine. Afterall, Yancy was different. He had a best friend and a teacher who actually believed him. He was going to pass this test and not get himself kicked out. It’s not like there was anyone who actually had it out for him. (Other than Nancy.)

__________________________________________________________

Percy was not excited about the trip to the Metropolis Museum of Art. He had the worst track record with field trips possible, and all the stuff at the Museum was at least twice the cost of replacing a bus. Plus, there was a higher chance of him getting recognized in the city, and if Alfred had mentioned the trip to his Dad and his Dad had mentioned the trip to the Kents, Percy might get hugged by an excited reporter before he could come up with an excuse.

At least Grover was with him, they were sitting together and Grover… was trying to pick sandwich pieces out of his hair? Percy looked back and spotted the assailant: Nancy Bobofitt with a torn up peanut butter sandwich in her fist.

Percy wanted to say something, maybe tell Mr. Brunner so Nancy had to sit out on the trip, but the bus pulled up to the Museum before he had a chance to bring anything up, and as soon as he stepped off the Bus, Mrs. Dodds appeared out of nowhere and gave all the students a lecture about respecting artifacts and how any stealing at all would not be tolerated. Percy could have sworn she was staring at him the whole time.

Mr. Brunner stepped in to offer some nicer words, hand out the worksheets, remind us about the schedule for the trip and to stick with the group at all times. Grover was glancing around anxiously, eyes never resting on any particular thing. Percy wanted to ask what was up but Mrs. Dodds sush-ed him before he had a chance. Gods, was she going to be like this the whole trip?

Apparently not.

Apparently she was going to turn into a monster, try to kill him, then immediately cease to have ever existed. (At least Nancy got dunked and Percy didn’t get surprised by any family friends. Small blessings.)

The first time he asked around about Mrs. Dodds, he thought it could have been a prank, or he could have simply mixed up the name of the teacher. By the second or third time of asking after fact checking himself and finding absolutely nothing on her, Percy began to silently panic. There was no way that he had hallucinated a whole teacher? The monster part, sure. But an actual teacher? There was no way he was that nuts.

Right?

Percy climbed into his bed and tried to calm his breathing. The words were looping in his head. The room was spinning and the blanket couldn’t keep him anchored to his body.

“They put people with schizophrenia and shit into Arkham. You wanna end up in a cell with the Joker? Keep talking about your crazy person hallucinations.”

Percy had basically announced to the whole school that he was seeing things when he asked about Mrs. Dodds so many times. If even one person connected the dots and tried to look into his past… he had no way to explain any of this. It was too big to be a hallucination, but there was no other explanation as to why Mrs. Dodds just- disappeared.

Every time he tried to ask Grover about it, he would say the same thing as everyone else, but there was a strange expression on his face. What if he had figured out Percy was nuts and decided not to tell anyone about it? That sounded like something Grover would do, but it still didn’t feel completely right. There had to be more to this. Percy wasn’t crazy.

(How many times had he dreamt of monsters? What happened to the fourth boy?)

Percy wasn’t crazy- and even if he was, he couldn’t let anyone find out.

Notes:

Take this depression!
‘Yeets some happy Percy & Grover interactions interactions into the void’
I am totally killing this whole coping thing.
Ignore the Gabe trauma and angst.

Percy, teasing: Grover, I swear you’ve got the Greek pantheon memorized?
Grover, sweating: What? No? Why would I need to have the Gods memorized?
Percy, nodding: Fair. It’s not like any of this is practical anyway. How would myths save your life?
Grover, sweating more: How about we study for Latin again! Gotta remember those names!

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS:
I don't have a copy of the books on hand, and I don't have extra funds, so I may just gloss over some of the book content in favor of focusing on specific scenes that are different or majorly impacted by the AU.
HOWEVER, I do want to know how much book content you guys want to see, and what scenes you want to see my version of Percy in. Let me know in the comments! I also take suggestions and I love seeing theories!
ALSO! The next chapter will be a future chapter. Should I loop back to Damian (my current plan) or should I get Jason's reaction to the idea of the party? Let me know!

Thanks for reading! I'll try to have an update by next week. Now that my brain is in writing mode I have had to wrestle down the instinct to start a whole new crossover fic for Slugterra/MHA. If you don't know what the first is, would recommend.

Chapter 11: Chapter 6: Damian

Notes:

I'M BACK BABY, and we almost have 2000 KUDOS!
Y'all are too kind. I'm gonna get hooked on the validation! Thank you for your support and comments as well. They feed me so much inspiration.

TW: Sad Bat Boys

Damian woke up early. As much as Richard had drilled the importance of getting ample rest into his head, sometimes an exception was necessary, and for now, Damian could afford to be a few hours short of his usual schedule. He pulled himself from his sheets, carefully, so as to not wake Titus. He only had two days to prepare for Jason and Percy’s birthday celebration, and there was not nearly enough time to waste on sleep; Friday was coming and Damian needed to be ready.

Damian dressed himself quickly and grabbed the notebook he had set aside for party planning. His mother had taught him from a young age to never be substandard, and when possible, to go above and beyond. It may have been challenging to get a frame of reference for what a large, public, birthday party was like; Damian preferred to celebrate his birthday quietly with only close family. Luckily, Alfred regularly demonstrated what a proper social event should look like, so he had some frame of reference. Even if half of the pair being celebrated was not present did not mean that half measures would be acceptable. This party was going to give Damian an easy opportunity to learn about Jackson and do something nice for Todd at the same time; there was no way he was going to prepare half-heartedly.

Damian reached for his jacket, and his eyes landed on a manila folder. The case file on his civilian brother he was keeping hidden in his dresser was still shockingly thin. Despite his days of investigation, he still wanted more information.

For all he had already learned about Jackson, there was still so much more to discover. He had dug around online and in the bat computer’s personnel files, but Jackson was often kept from the public eye, and since he was a civilian, there was next to nothing in the batcomputer. (Though Damian suspected his Father kept a personal file on Jackson somewhere else in the manor, he had yet to find it.)

With only the meager amount of information he had gathered from secondhand sources, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get an accurate picture of his lost civilian sibling– at least on his own. He would need to cooperate with those who knew the target personally.

When he had started his investigation, he had not expected to discover so many silent scars among his siblings. Jackson’s disappearance had done far more damage to the family than expected, and despite the fact that he had never been involved with the Gotham nightlife, Jackson had not been untouched by tragedy. From what the police report said, he had been imprisoned by his mother’s killer for months.

He initially expected Richard to have been close with Jackson since his abba was the most accepting person he knew, but he had not expected any relationship with Drake. Drake became a member of the family only 10 months before Jackson disappeared, suggesting that they would have only known each other for a short time, but his presence in photos and frequent mentions in Jackson’s journal suggested a much closer relationship than anticipated. Long before the official adoption the journal referred to him as “a part of the family.” Had Jackson somehow known him while he was acting as Robin? How had they met? Why were they close?

Drake’s recent behavior was another indicator of a much closer relationship than expected. When Damian had spoken to him in the hallway, he had not expected such a look of regret when Jackson was mentioned. It was worrying that Jackson had not been found or at least recovered if they had really been that close. Drake was not one to let people go easily. In their brief conversation, Damian noted that he seemed much more surprised than upset at Damian’s intrusion into Jackson’s room. It seems that Drake had not even considered that Damian had never met him before.

But he wasn’t the only sibling who had never brought up Jackson with Damian despite having such a close relationship with him.

Jason had never mentioned him either. Not once in all their interactions in the League or after he came to live with Father did Todd bring up their brotherhood, their parties, their shared origins, or even a mention of closeness. In fact, he never brought up Jackson at all. He only knew of the civilian because of his mother’s complaining about his father’s “civilian pet”. He knew that Jason’s memory was greatly altered and tainted because of his resurrection, but the more he learned about the relationship between Jackson and Todd, the more he was sure it had to have been deliberate.

From the case logs Damian found from just before Jackson came to live in the manor, it looked like Todd was the one who found him after his step-father was arrested for criminal and gang activity. The records indicated that Jackson was far from stable emotionally and far below average physically; apparently Todd literally found him sitting on the edge of a bridge. What exactly happened there Damian had to piece together himself; it was before father required them to wear body cams at all times and the actual case file redacted for “personal privacy” reasons. Still, it wasn’t difficult to guess what he was doing, or at least trying to do, especially considering his mental state.

Jason had probably saved his life. Then his father decided to take him in to keep him safe from his step-father’s criminal connections. He was adopted a little less than a year later. For as little as Jason liked to talk about his Robin days, he should have probably mentioned the boy whose life he saved that later became his brother. (Jason really was a different person before the Pits; Last Damian checked, Gabe Uglino was still alive in prison.)

Jackson’s journals were also fairly unhelpful. He had several notebooks, most of them unfilled or covered in doodles and sketches. (Some of the drawings were of disturbingly realistic monsters. Perhaps a representation or interpretation of how Jackson saw his step-father?) The few journal-like records Damian had found were all dated for after Jason’s death, meaning he had no external sources for what their relationship was like.

And now Damian was attempting to recreate their shared birthday celebration with next to no information about their connection at all. (Jon was right, he did have a tendency to take on impossible missions.)

Damian wandered down to the dinning hall, still trying to figure out a reasonable way to find more information on Jackson and Todd’s relationship. Technically the best way would be to ask Todd directly, but considering the mood he has been in lately, that may create more tension that it was worth. No, Damian had other sources he could use. Gordon, Richard, and Alfred were all around when Jackson and Todd had been close, so they would have ample information about their relationship. That would have to be enough to help him plan the party- the party that was in two days and had no direction other than “birthday” yet.

Damian sat down at the table and Alfred the Cat wandered over to nuzzle against his legs. He reached down to pet his head while trying to strategize. ‘Richard won’t be here for several hours, Gordon has work during the day, but Alfred should be available to talk sometime this morning. I’ll interview him first. As long as everything goes as planned and I am not interrupted…’

Damian didn’t dare finish that thought, but he was jinxed anyway. Before he had finished his oatmeal, the dining room doors opened and Drake walked into the room looking groggy and annoyed. He didn’t greet Damian as he sat down at the other side of the table. Damian watched him carefully, not wanting to cause a time consuming conflict this early in the morning.

“You’re not usually up this early.” Damian set down his spoon, reaching down to pet Alfred the Cat who had made his way to Damian’s lap. “Something wrong?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I took a nap yesterday, and apparently I can’t sleep for more than 6 hours in a 24 hour period.” Tim sighed, resting his forehead against the table. “Is Alfred even up to make breakfast?”

“Not that I’m aware of. I am self sufficient enough to make my own oatmeal.” Damian gestured down to his half empty bowl. “It’s a skill most people ought to have.”

Drake didn’t answer, and they sat in silence for a while, the only noise being Alfred the Cat’s rhythmic purring and the occasional ‘clink’ of Damian’s spoon against the bowl. It was strange, but the silence didn’t feel stiff or even uncomfortable; it was just breakfast. Damian was more uncomfortable with his comfort than anything else.(Could he really afford to let more people in? Could he really risk it again?)

“Ahem-” Damian made a quiet noise, testing to see if Drake had fallen asleep at the table. He did hear the sound, but he only reacted by moving his head just enough so that he could see Damian. “-If you are planning on staying awake, I wouldn’t be opposed to making you some oatmeal. We do have a busy day of party planning ahead of us.”

Drake fully sat up after hearing Damian’s offer. There was mild confusion mixed with genuine surprise. It seemed like Drake was so shocked that Damian was offering to make him food that all the frustrated drowsiness left his body all at once. (Were they really so distant that Timothy was shocked that Damian would do something, anything nice?) There was a long, awkward pause, before Drake shook himself out of his surprise.

“Yeah- yeah. That would be great.” Drake leaned back over, relaxing a little. He offered Damian a hesitant smile. “In fact, while you do that, would you want some tea? I need a pick me up, so…?”

“That sounds nice.” Damian stood to go into the kitchen. “Though…” Drake raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you usually drink coffee?” Tim smiled and Damian gave him a look to let him know that it was a genuine question. Drake was rarely spotted without a highly caffeinated beverage, and Alfred was staunchly against energy drinks in the house. (He was worried they might give father or Brown ideas. Both should never consume large amounts of any stimulant for very different reasons.)

“Coffee is a necessity, Tea is a preference.” Tim stood, stretching with his arms behind his head. “I’ve made my peace with coffee, and I usually take whatever bean juice I can get, but I am actually picky about my tea. I would drink it more often if I had the time or if I didn’t need the caffeine.”

Damian was more than a little surprised at this information. From everything he had seen, and even from what he had heard from the other annoyances, Tim was obsessed with coffee. The fact that he was more of a tea person… was unexpected. Perhaps he had more in common with Drake than he thought.

“Pennyworth and I occasionally have tea together on the weekends… If you aren’t busy at Wayne Industries, you would be welcome to join us. As skilled as you are at making tea, Alfred has trained with the best.”

Drake didn’t respond at first, and Damian felt the silence weigh on his proverbially outstretched arm. Perhaps it was presumptuous of him to assume Drake would be interested in having tea with him, after all, he was very busy at the company. Damian felt a ping of disappointment- (had he really created such a large wedge between them?) -but then he noticed.

Tim was crying.

It wasn’t a lot, maybe a few small tears. Tim’s face was frozen in an odd expression that was a mix of surprise and grief. Damian felt his heart rate spike through the roof and he suddenly didn’t know what to do with himself. Had he done something wrong? What had he said that caused this? Was Timothy mad at him? (Had he hurt him, again?)

Tim reached up and touched his cheeks, noticing the tears, before he turned away to wipe his eyes with his sleeves. Damian was still frozen in place, unsure what to do in this circumstance. Neither of them spoke, the shock of the moment affecting both of them. When the silence did break, Tim spoke first.

“Sorry, I just- it’s been a hard week I guess, and I thought that-” Tim sucked in a breath, as if he was struggling to force out the words he actually wanted to say. (Damain understood that feeling all too well.) “Sorry, I- uh- I’d like that.” ‘pause’ “Tea, that is. I love to have tea with you and Alfred.”

“That’s- sounds good.” Damian turned away himself, trying to focus on the task at hand. “I’ll inform him later today. We meet in the garden at ten- I hope you will be awake by then at least.” Tim let out a small laugh and Damian managed a smile himself. Perhaps he still had a chance to fix some relationships, even if he missed his chance for others.

__________________________________________________________

By the time Alfred appeared in the dining room to prepare for family breakfast, there were two empty bowls and two empty mugs already waiting to be cleared away. Tim was typing away on his laptop and Damain was sitting underneath the table with Alfred the cat. There was a comfortable warmth between them, and a general feeling of calm.

Damian glanced up, making eye contact and noting something surprising: Alfred was smiling. His eyes indicated a sense of pleasant surprise and his smile was warm. It was the first real smile Damian had seen on Alfred’s face all week. It was obvious that Alfred hadn’t been entirely unaffected by the “birthday week curse”, as Damian had decided to call it, but he hadn’t let it affect his behavior in any way. If Damian was any less of a detective, he wouldn’t have noticed, but he was the son of the bat and he did notice.

Damian slid out from under the table, gently setting Alfred the cat aside. Tim didn’t even flinch, being so absorbed into his work. Alfred set down his tray of breakfast foods on the table, giving Damian a knowing look.

“Is there something I can help you with Master Damian?” he asked as he set down a plate. “I suspect you have a few questions for me.” Alfred was perceptive as always. Damian nodded, only hesitating a moment before his response.

“If… you have a moment at any point today, and it isn’t an inconvenience, I would appreciate it if I could interview you about some details I need cleared up for the party on Friday.” Damian realized after he asked that his tone was uncharacteristically uncertain. Alfred seemed to notice this as well, and he rested his hand on Damian’s shoulder.

“I would love to answer any question you might have about Master Perseus.” Alfred’s smile reassured Damian just slightly- but it took a full five seconds for him to realize what Alfred had said.

“Perseus? I thought his name was Percy.”

“Ah, yes. Perseus did always prefer to be called Percy, but I always found it more… proper to call him by his full name.” Alfred smiled as if he was remembering something amusing as he continued to set the table. “Though he has always been adamant that I call him Percy. You are welcome to use ‘Perseus’ rather than ‘Jackson’ since he hasn’t used his old surname at all since he was adopted, unlike most of the members of this household. He really has nothing particular against the name as far as I am aware, he just goes by Percy- much like Master Richard.”

Damian nodded along, sliding back into his seat at the table. ‘Perseus… it does have a nice ring to it. Not to mention, if he hasn’t used the name Jackson in a while, it might be a painful reminder of a more difficult time.’ Alfred set another plate in front of him, humming to himself. Damian didn’t have the heart to say he wouldn’t participate in family breakfast.

“However, about the party AND about Perseus-” ‘Wasn’t that an ominous opening.’ “-I would strongly recommend you speak to Master Jason about both first. Especially since I suspect you haven’t told him about your plans yet- and I doubt Master Bruce would allow you to proceed without his express consent.” Damian winced a little as Alfred had hit the nail on the head. That particular hitch was on Damian’s to-do list of course, but…

Robin and Red Robin had been out on patrol together the previous night, (with Batman on break, someone had to do it), and they had unintentionally avoided going anywhere near crime alley. He was hesitant to admit it, but he was anxious about how Jason would initially react. With the way everyone was tiptoeing around anything to do with Jason and Percy’s actual relationship, it was something like a ticking time bomb. Getting his abba to talk about the Party had been painful enough.

Damian knew that the party would be a general net positive, but there would probably need to be a short period of convincing first, and that convincing would require preparation… and most likely a prepared proposal of some kind. ‘Luckily, I don’t need to have that conversation quite yet, so I have plenty of time-’

Damian’s train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the dining room door flying open with reckless abandon as to anyone who may be unfortunate enough to stand near the door’s path. Simply put, Jason Todd threw those doors open and didn’t venture a thought as to someone who could be in the way. At least he was looking a little better this morning.

Perhaps he found someone to shoot in Crime Alley last night. That would usually make him feel better about life.

“Good morning Master Jason. Anything in particular you want for breakfast? I’ve prepared waffles and eggs for the family.” Alfred smiled politely as Jason stumbled into the room, either drunk, injured, exhausted, or some unholy combination of all three. “Master Damain and I were just talking about you. While you are here, I believe you and he should have a conversation.”

“Sure. I’ll be around little D.” Jason plopped down into his usual seat. “We can talk whenever you feel ready.” He turned to offer a friendly smirk to Damian. “Unless I’m in trouble somehow, in which case, I didn’t do it and if I did, I want a lawyer.”

“Heh, I’m sure that will help.” Tim scoffed from the other side of the table, face hidden by his laptop. “If you really did screw with the Demon, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to get caught, right?”

“Okay, first of all-” Jason and Tim started going back and forth and Damian tuned out their usual banter. ‘Small change of plans, but a whole presentation in one day was unrealistic anyway. How should I approach this? Start with something simple maybe?’

Damian planned, scrapped, and re-scripted a conversation he hoped would get the best response while family members drifted in and out of the dining room. Brown, Thomas, and Cassandra fell asleep in the theater last night, and all three of them took their breakfast to go. Apparently there was some humanitarian project to help deal with the aftereffects of the recent seismic activity. Father ate with them for a short while before he got a phone call from an “old friend” that was probably some kind of informant. Richard was the last one to join them in the dining room, filling his plate and taking the seat next to Damian.

“Wanna fill me in on why Tim is shooting glares at Jason from behind his laptop and Jason looks like he needs to be reminded that he has already hit his attempted fratricide limit for the year?” Dick sighed with a half smile on his face. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy they are both feeling a little bit more normal this morning, but I am kinda curious what the fight was about this time.”

“If I recall, it started with something to do with Jason’s detective abilities and it got to the point where they started making up words that sound like slurs.” Damian paused. “They couldn’t use the real ones because Alfred was in the other room.”

“Huh. I see. They come up with any good ones?” Richard seemed genuinely curious and Damian was too distracted to remember that Tim and Jason were still sitting at the table. “Best one I heard was ‘Holster’ by Drake. I’m not sure he even realized how many double meanings there are for that one.”

There was a moment of silence, then an outburst of noise as Richard nearly did a spit take but managed to stop himself resulting in a choking laugh. Todd frowned, then flushed as he realized what Damian was talking about. Drake's expression didn’t react to the noise, but Damian did get a swift kick in the shins from under the table. Across the room, Alfred let out a polite cough.

“Master Damian, I don’t believe that you should be repeating what was said in a moment of aggravation- regardless of how clever you find it. Besides, I do believe there was something you needed to talk to Master Jason about?” Alfred reached over and picked up the empty plate in front of Jason, giving Damian a ‘look’ that told him that this was his best chance.

“Oh- right.” Damian took a shallow breath, trying to calm himself. “There are, well, a few things I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?” Jason raised his eyebrows. “Anything to do with why you were avoiding me on patrol last night? Don’t think I didn’t notice that you and Red were on a private coms channel the whole night.”

“Yes, and no. I suppose I may have been a bit nervous about asking this-” Damian swallowed and Tim interjected before he could finish his sentence.

“-We wanna throw you a birthday party.” Tim leveled his gaze as he closed his laptop. “It was Damian’s idea but me and Dick are on board. B said we needed your permission if we wanted to do it.”

Jason stared back at Drake, seeming too shocked to respond at first; it seemed like he was having some kind of internal battle as he swept his eyes around the table. Finally his gaze settled on Damian. Their eyes met and Damian held his ground. Jason looked away first with a sigh.

“That's… not what I was expecting. And honestly? It’s better than I was worried about.” Jason shook his head a little and looked down at the table. “I’m really touched little D, but I’d rather not have a party. Not-*sigh*-not this year, okay?”

“...Why?” Damian’s voice was much quieter than usual and there was a small ache in his chest. He hesitated a little before he asked again, “Why? Is it because of Perseus?”

There was a long, sharp silence as the words slipped out of his mouth. Jason’s eyes whipped up to meet Damian’s; his expression was frozen in some blend of confusion and anger. Dick sucked in a breath like Damian had tripped and eaten pavement and Tim refused to make eye contact with anyone in the room.

“...What do you know about Percy?” The question was cold, cold enough that Damian knew he screwed up. Clearly he had misstepped when he brought up Perseus so abruptly and now Jason was clearly on guard.

“I- I’ve been doing research on him.” Damian tried to disarm the suspicion with an explanation, but apparently this was the wrong answer as well.

“Research? You’ve been casing Percy? He’s not even here and you’re-” Jason let out a low, frustrated growl. “Did you guys know about this?”

“Jason, please…” Dick stepped in before the situation escalated any more, but Damian was so taken aback that wasn’t paying attention to their argument at that point.

What exactly did Jason think Damian was doing? He just wanted to learn about Perseus, there wasn’t a ‘case’ to be made! No one had told Damian anything about him- he wanted to learn about his family. He didn’t want to feel like an outsider anymore, having to be ‘let in’ on regular family information like it was some big secret. Why was Jason so bothered about this?

Did he think Damian was threatened by Percy? Did he think Damian was Jealous somehow?

Did he think Damian would hurt him too?

“... I’m sorry.” Damian swallowed the lump in his throat as Dick and Jason turned to look at him. “I just wanted to learn about my family. None talked about him so I just-”

Damian’s voice was shaking and he didn’t like how dysregulated he felt. He knew that everyone was looking at him, and he didn’t want to know what their expressions were like. He didn’t start this whole thing to make people upset. (But wasn’t it inevitable?)

“I’m really sorry, but I should-” Damian fought back the urge to cry as he dug his fingers into his palms. (Strong boy’s don’t cry my son. Strong boys get back up.) “-I should go.”

Damian didn’t look back to see if anyone was following him, but he sincerely hoped no one was.

Notes:

HOLY CRAP THIS TOOK A WHILE.

As some of you may remember from forever ago (last chapter), I was trying to figure out some things for the upcoming Percy’s Interludes, and I got distracted with that, and when I finally sat down to write this chapter, it did not go as planned.

Let me be clear, I did not plan this chapter at all, and the boys did not listen to me when I begged them not to have breakdowns. Kinda rude tbh. Still, it was weirdly cathartic to write? Let me know what you think below.

Guys, I really need to write a chapter from Alfred’s perspective. I NEED to. This chapter is the reason I will need to do an alternative perspective AU.

Fun fact that I recently learned, canonical, Tim is more of a Tea guy than a coffee guy, and this chapter has my best interpretation of the fannon theory and the cannon reality. He likes tea but he’s picky and doesn’t usually have time to do it right, and coffee isn’t his favorite but he needs the caffeine and he doesn’t hate coffee.

Bonus Funnies:
Tim: I actually prefer tea.
Everyone: ‘Le gasp!’
Damian: …anyways, wanna have tea with me?
Tim, who is not used to people caring about his preferences: y e s

Tim: Smoking Barrel Addict
Jason: Skateboard Loser
Tim: Well-Read Idiot
Jason: You’re a Burned Out Gifted Kid at seventeen
Tim: You… you’re a walking Holster.
Damian: ‘Sips tea’

Bonus Bonus Funny:
(Based on a true story recently)
Hearth: So, I have been told by many people, and multiple professionals that I may be autistic. But honestly, I really wonder if I meet all the criteria?
Therapist: You… you are actively sitting on the floor with a FNAF fidget toy telling me all about how you had a panic attack this week when you realized you would need to change your schedule for Summer.
Hearth: But that's because I have anxiety?
Therapist: Please. PLEASE let me get you an official autism diagnosis. I know someone who will do it for free.

Chapter 12: Percy's Interlude: Twelve Years Old - Part Two

Notes:

I LIVE. THE CURSE HAS YET TO FELL ME, AND IT NEVER WILL!
(If you are curious about the details of my hiatus, see the "life updates" portion of the notes, otherwise, ignore them.)
Also, WHY ARE Y'ALL SO GENEROUS?
Your comments and kudos are seriously a lifeline. Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart.
TW: Disassociation, Flashbacks, Bullying, Anxiety, Injuries
This one's a doozy!

If Percy wasn’t crazy already, he would definitely be by the end of the school year.

Absolutely no one knew anything about former math teacher, Mrs. Dodds. Any time he brought her up, they would deny it with looks of genuine confusion. The only person he could catch with the occasional “slip up” was Grover. He would hesitate, or sometimes even look away before answering. Had Grover somehow seen what Percy saw, or was he simply caught off guard because he was worried about Percy losing it?

There was no way to tell.

He was trying his absolute hardest to seem like he was completely fine, but with all of his “Mrs. Dodds” tests and his “problem behaviors”, his teachers were concerned, the other kids thought he was hilarious (and not in a good way), and his grades were suffering worse than usual. He was trying to keep it together, but the most he could manage is avoiding disciplinary action that would involve calling his family.

Nancy Bobofit, along with pretty much any other bully in a ten mile radius, had somehow picked up on how Percy was avoiding administrator attention and took it as a sign to double down on the harassment. Since he was only one strike away from “interventive action”, he couldn’t really do anything but complain. He was basically a social sitting duck. At least he had a few people who still believed in him, as much as he was sure they were hiding something.

Mr. Brunner remained the only teacher who had any expectations for him, and Percy couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. Sure, it was nice to have a teacher who believed him when he said he was trying his best, but then Mr. Brunner would give him more work to help him do better next time. Not to mention, Mr. Brunner always seemed to know when Percy was on a “Mrs. Dodds” kick and would ask him if he “needed someone to talk to”.

Percy was never sure how to answer.

Most of the time, he didn’t want to talk to anyone about anything that was going on inside his brain. It wasn’t shame… so much as disappointment that he was afraid of. The last person he wanted to open up to was the only teacher who treated Percy like a normal kid. Not with everything that had happened this year.

Even if that teacher was probably lying to him about everything. After hearing his conversation with Grover a few weeks ago, Percy didn’t know what to think. Grover and Mr. Brunner were the only people who were even remotely nice to him, but “keeping him alive until the solstice” felt way more significant than being his friend or teaching him latin.

But- everything was completely fine. He would be fine. (It wasn’t like things like this were new. He’d always been crazy.) Final exams were only two weeks away and then Percy would be in the clear. He could go home, hug his dad, go to the skate park with Tim, get lunch with Dick, and sleep until the golden dust and screeching disappeared from his dreams.

It was a nice thought. If only Percy wasn’t a trouble magnet.

Percy was stuffing his sketchbook into his backpack so he could catch up with Grover when disaster struck out of the mouth of a wrath filled middle schooler. At least it was a dignified end.

“Hey Jackson!” Nancy. Ohhh, joy. She was skipping over to his desk with the cadence of a whimsical fairy and an evil smile that read ‘I’ve got a funny idea.’ At least Grover was in the bathroom; that meant Percy was her only target this time around. Percy ground. There was no teacher to dissuade her, and no Grover to tell Mr. Brunner.

Then he remembered something. There was no teacher and no witnesses.

“Listen Percy,” Percy rolled over just to give Jason a major eye roll but he just stuck out his tongue and continued. “It’s true that sometimes you have to hold yourself back when you’re in public. Bruce taught me that, and it is really important when you are trying to stay focused–but sometimes you have to take a shot when you can.”

“A shot? What do you mean by that? Am I supposed to… what, wait until no one’s watching? Fat chance of that happening.” Percy scoffed. People were always watching when you were a Wanye; that was a fact of life. Percy’s disbelief didn’t dissuade Jason from continuing; He flopped down onto Percy’s bed and broke into a mischievous smile.

“Exactly right, my protege.” Jason wiggled his eyebrows and Percy snorted. “You gotta wait until no one is looking.” Jason paused, stealing Percy’s blanket. “Either that, or you make sure no one knows it's you.” Jason lifted the blanket to cover his face like a cape, giving his best mysterious expression.

“What, you think you’re Batman or something?” Percy teased.

“Wha- no!” Jason dropped the blanket. “No, I just mean it’s…” He frowned, trying to think of the best way to make his point. “It’s like–think Crime Alley rules. As long as nobody sees it happen, you can do whatever you want. Pick your fights in alleys and ditches–without any cops or criminals to watch it happen, ya know?”

Oh. That actually made a lot of sense to Percy. As long as no one with authority was around, you could get away with anything.

The classroom was basically empty, except for the few other kids who hadn’t left for lunch yet. Mr. Brunner had been pulled away by the Dean for some teacher lunch meeting.

“Wait until no one is around, then you can show your cards.” Jason’s voice echoed in his head, and Percy knew that this was his one shot. No witnesses meant that he didn’t have to hold his tongue. This time, he wouldn’t take a beating lying down. He was gonna do his big brother proud.

Percy didn’t realize he was smiling. He didn’t know he was standing a few inches taller. If you had asked one of the other kids what he looked like, they would have said that he looked confident enough to do something stupid, which was a fair assessment. He was about to charge head first into trouble.

“What’s up Nancy? Did you run out of third graders to torment, or did you realize that you’ll be taking classes with them in three years and you wanted to stay in their good graces.” The classroom was dead silence and Percy watched as Nancy stopped in her tracks, trying to figure out what he just said. He saw the exact moment when it clicked and her expression shifted from confusion to rage.

“Why- you little-” Her eyes narrowed as she growled through gritted teeth, “I was coming over here to ask you a question Jackson.”

“Yeah?” Percy held her gaze, smirk fixed in place. “I hate to tell you, but I wasn’t the one who stole your marbles. After all, I’ve got plenty.”

“Uh- yeah- well, that’s rich coming from you Jackson.” Nancy broke eye contact first, and her voice was thick with frustration. “I’m not the person who can’t remember the math teacher’s name.” Nancy was floundering at this point, getting thrown off guard by Percy’s comments.

It took Percy a moment to realize he had backed Nancy into a corner. There were whispers coming from the kids standing by the door, and her face was beet red. The words filled his head, and he was about to fire another shot… before deciding she wasn’t worth the trouble if a teacher came by the room. He turned away, leaving Nancy behind, fuming. He made it all the way to the door before everything went wrong.

“If anyone’s really lost their marbles, it’s you Percy.” Nancy was practically spitting every word. “I heard that you got kicked out of your last school for attacking a bunch of older kids for no reason.”

Percy could feel his heartbeat in his head as all the blood in his body rushed to his finger tips. He felt dizzy. Was there another Longtree student at Yancy? It wasn’t impossible, but it didn’t make any sense. Yancy and Longtree were in completely different states. Longtree was meant for fancy “elite” kids and Yancy was a correctional school for troubled kids; half of these students were on scholarship! Why would anyone from Longtree be at Yancy?

“It’s crazy that they would let someone violent like you into Yancy. Even a place like this should have some standards.” Her voice was dripping with unearned confidence. Percy wanted to call her a hypocrite, to remind her that everyone knew that she was at Yancy because she broke a teacher’s nose. His lips felt numb as he tried to speak, but his voice failed him. The words wouldn’t come out, and Nancy grew more confident in Percy’s silence.

“I should have guessed that you were nuts.” Nancy mused. “You practically threw me into the fountain on the museum field trip over basically nothing.”

He didn’t do it over nothing. (Did he do it?) Percy just wanted to protect Grover. (He didn’t touch her. Did he?) He can’t just let bad things happen in front of him. (No, the water grabbed her.) Not again. (Did he do it?) Never again.

“In fact, wasn’t it after that trip that you started asking everyone about Ms. Dodds?” Nancy's voice was getting louder. Was she walking up behind him? “What’s up with that? Why are you so obsessed with a teacher that doesn’t exist, huh?”

Nightmares and daydreams. (Dust and screeching.) The monsters followed him everywhere. (Blood and screams.) Even back then, he was seeing monsters outside his window. (They were in the school. They were in the house).

“Are you schizophrenic or something, huh, Percy?” The other students scattered into the hallway. Percy wanted to follow them, but he couldn’t move. He was stuck facing the wall as Nancy stepped in front of him. “You aren’t even hiding it! Asking about her all the time, you must be seeing her all the time, huh?”

“Seeing monsters all the time, thinking you're so special, that sounds like… um, schizophrenia!”

“What a hypocrite. Saying I lost my marbles.” Nancy scoffed, getting up in Percy’s face. “You’re the one who’s crazy, Jackson. You know where people like you belong?” Nancy smirked, poking him for added emphasis. “An asylum.”

“They put people with schizophrenia and shit into Arkham.”

Percy didn’t even think before reacting. The roar in his ears met the tide in his veins, and suddenly the world was white. The first thing he saw was Nancy with a broken nose slammed up against the wall. The sprinklers had gone off somehow, and they were both dripping wet. There was shouting coming from the hallway. Nancy reached up to touch her bloody lip. Grover ran into the classroom. Nancy started crying. Grover started panicking.

Percy didn’t do anything.

Nancy pointed at Percy. Grover tugged on his sleeve. Ms. Kerr looked inside to see what was going on. Nancy started screaming. Grover argued back. Ms. Kerr tried to calm the situation.

Percy didn’t say anything.

Ms. Kerr said something to Percy, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Nancy was escorted out of the classroom, rag held up to her nose. Grover said something about Mr. Brunner before running out of the classroom.

“Percy, you can always go back to the sea.”

Percy dropped to the floor, soaking wet with bloody knuckles, and cried.

__________________________________________________________

Percy was not coming back to Yancy next year. Nancy’s family wasn’t pressing charges because several students had come forward to say that Nancy had been harassing Percy, and luckily, one of them had been recording the whole thing. After reviewing the footage, Mrs. Bobofit had clearly realized that she wouldn’t have a very strong case. She agreed that Percy’s expulsion was punishment enough for breaking her daughter’s nose.

Finals were quiet. Nancy had been pulled out of Yancy for the year, so there was no one to bother Grover and Percy. At the same time, there was no distraction from the sinking feeling in his gut. A week ago, he was desperate to go home, but now… now he wasn’t sure if he could face his family.

When Grover invited him to come stay with him for the summer, Percy agreed to go with him. He called the manor, but it seemed like Alfred was out for the afternoon. He left a voicemail explaining the situation, and apologizing for the short notice.

When he finished his last exam, Mr. Brunner asked him to stay for a moment. He figured it had something to do with him leaving Yancy, but when he said that Percy didn’t belong at this school, it hurt more than the expulsion ever could. Grover tried to console him while he was packing his things, but it felt disingenuous. Both of them knew that the trust between them was strained. Still, he was trying.

Both of them sat in silence on the bus to New York. Percy was silent because he didn’t feel like talking, but Grover looked so nervous that he might hiccup if he tried to talk. He was always nervous when we left Yancy, like he was expecting something bad to happen. Percy had assumed he was worried about being teased on a trip, but there wasn’t anyone to tease him on the greyhound.

Breaking the silence, Percy said, “Looking for Kindly Ones?”

Grover let out a weird sounding yelp, nearly jumping out of his seat. “Wh-why would I- I mean, what do you mean?”

Percy stared at Grover, surprised at his over the top reaction. He sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Just something I heard you say to Mr. Brunner one time.”

Grover’s eye twitched. “You- you were listening to that? Percy listen-”

“Grover-”

“We were really just worried about you. The whole ‘Ms. Dodds’ thing was making me worried and I was just telling Mr. Brunner that you might be overstressed, or overloaded or something, because…”

Percy finally just cut into his rambling, giving him an eye roll, “Grover, you are a really, really bad liar.”

Grover’s ears turned pink and Percy felt a pang of guilt. Despite everything that happened, Grover had still invited him to come stay over the summer. He sighed and offered a gentle smile, “It’s not a big deal G-man. Let’s just relax, it’s not the end of the world.”

The moment those words exited his mouth, the bus let out a halting grinding noise. The smell of smoke filled the compartment, and the driver started swearing. The bus puttered over to the side of the road and all the passengers filled out the doors as quickly as possible to escape the smell of smoke and rotten eggs.

They were stranded along a deserted highway in the middle of nowhere. There were trees on all sides that looked identical to the trees we had been seeing for hours. Litter dotted the side of the road, abandoned by divers that had no hope of seeing civilization for any reasonable amount of time. Certainly not a place you’d choose to be under normal circumstances, but clearly someone liked this spot because there was an old fashioned fruit stand on the other side of the road.

Percy stared longingly at the boxes of fresh produce; apples, cherries, apricots, and walnuts. His mouth began to water and his throat dried; as if appearing just to tempt him, he spotted the jugs of cider in a tub of ice right in front of the stand. If there had been a way across the street safely, Percy would have jogged over to get something on the spot. Percy sighed and tore his eyes away from the incredible looking produce… just long enough to notice the weird old ladies sitting in rocking chairs.

They were old. They weren't the kind of Alfred old, they were the rotting-mummy-let-out-of-the-tomb kind of old, and they were knitting the biggest pair of socks Percy had ever seen in his life. At first, he wondered if they were making Christmas stockings in June, but they were still too big for stockings. Even weirder, they were all kitting the same pair of socks. The lady on the left was knitting one, the one on the right was doing another sock, and the one in the middle was holding a basket huge of electric blue yarn.

Percy must have been staring too long, because he realized that they seemed to be looking right at him. The one in the middle winked at him when they made eye contact, and her face scrunched as her mouth split into the most unsettling smile Percy had ever seen, and he felt a wave of nausea roll over him as she held up a strange looking scarf. The scarf was normal size, but it was unsettling blood red, and there was something strange about it. Halfway through, it looked like the scarf had been sliced, or maybe torn somehow, but it had somehow been haphazardly knitted back together using a toxic, acid green yarn.

Percy turned to see if Grover had noticed the weird ladies too, but when he did, Grover was as white as a sheet, nose twitching like a cornered animal.

“Hey, G-man?” Percy prodded, “You good–”

“Please, please tell me they aren’t looking at you.”

Percy chuckled nervously, “Well I would hate to lie… think they wanna sell me the scarf?”

“Scarf? What scarf?” Grover snapped, “This is not the time to joke Percy.”

Percy turned back to look at the old ladies, and the scarf was gone. They are back to knitting their socks as if Percy wasn’t just advertised the weirdest winter accessory he had ever seen. The one in the middle pulled out a huge pair of gold and silver scissors.

Grover sucked in a breath and grabbed Percy’s arm. “We’re getting back on the bus.”

“You can’t be serious!” Percy said, “It’s a kazillion degrees in there!”

Grover tried to pull him towards the door, but Percy dug in his heels. Across the road, the old ladies were still staring. The middle one cut the yarn, and even across four lanes of traffic, Percy could still hear the audible snip that resonated in the air. The other two ladies started to ball up the rest of the yarn as Grover pulled him onto the bus.

A few minutes later, the bus driver managed to identify the problem: a big hunk of metal that had somehow gotten wedged into the engine compartment. The bus stuttered back to life and the passengers cheered, clamoring back to their seats.

As the bus pulled back onto the road, Percy still felt a little nauseous. Grover didn’t look much better, shivering in his seat. Percy wanted to ask him what was going on, but everything about this felt weird. Why did they show him the scarf? Why did it feel familiar somehow? Why did they make a point of cutting the blue string right in front of him?

As they left the fruit stand behind, Grover quietly asked, “Percy, what did you see?”

“At the fruit stand?” Percy shrugged. “Nothing too exciting. Probably the same thing you saw, a bunch of old ladies knitting at their favorite hang out.” He paused, remembering their odd behavior and Grover’s strange reaction. “Why? Is this another Dodds situation?”

He winced, and Percy got the sense that somehow we had dodged something much, much worse than Ms. Dodds. “That’s it? That’s all you saw?”

He sighed. “Geez, fine, specifics. When I first saw them, they were knitting the biggest socks I have ever seen, then they showed me a weird scarf, then they cut the blue string and packed up.”

Grover froze. He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that Percy didn’t recognize. It felt… ancient somehow. It reminded him of the hand symbols his dad’s friend Diana would use occasionally.

Grover’s voice was lower than usual as he asked, “You really saw her snip the cord?”

“Yeah? They must have been done knitting the socks or something, no big deal.” Percy said. The words left his mouth with a bitter aftertaste, and he knew that he had seen something important.

“This can’t be happening,” Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. “Not to you, not now. It can’t go like last time.”

“Grover, what happened last time?” Percy felt an anxious knot rising in his throat.

Grover didn’t seem to hear him. “It’s always sixth grade. Why is it always sixth grade?”

Maybe this was some kind of superstition or something. Percy knew that Grover had some weird superstitions and beliefs, maybe this was just a bad omen or something. Maybe Percy was going to have wet socks in the near future. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal.

Except, things didn’t usually go in Percy’s favor, and something about the scarf was nagging in the back of his head. Three old ladies, yarn, cutting…

“Grover…” Percy hesitated. “The yarn being cut, that doesn’t mean that someone’s going to die, right?”

Grover didn’t respond, but he did lift his gaze to meet Percy’s. Grover stared at Percy mournfully, like he was trying to memorize a dead man’s face before they were lifted into the ground.

Percy didn’t know how to respond, so instead, they both fell into an uncomfortable silence for the rest of the bus ride. Grover kept shooting glances in Percy’s direction, and Percy would choose to ignore them as best he could.

Eventually, they reached the terminal where they would switch to a different bus that would take them to Long Island. Percy hauled his bags from one bus to another, trying to avoid thinking about the absolute weirdness that this trip has been. The gray sky overhead seemed to mirror his anxieties as he took his seat next to Grover on the bus.

“We’re going to take this bus to Long Island and get off at the Lake Montauk station. Then someone will come pick us up and drive us the rest of the way, okay?” Grover seemed to be reminding Percy of the plan as a method to relieve his own anxiety, so Percy just nodded along as Grover listed all the steps they were about to take. Eventually he got bored and decided to change the subject.

“So, you mentioned that this is a… camp, right? What’s it like? Are we gonna be staying in a cabin or something?” Percy probed.

Grover seemed to relax a little at the simple questions. “Yeah, it’s a… special summer camp. Kinda exclusive, but I promise you’ll like it. Some people even stay at camp year round.”

“They stay year round at a summer camp?” Percy snorted.

Grover smiled, and there was a twinge of sadness attached. “Yeah. For some campers, camp is the only home they have.”

“Oh.” They both fell silent for a moment, feeling some of the unintended awkwardness. In the distance, they could hear the sound of thunder.

“Huh. Didn’t think it was supposed to rain today. Hope we aren’t soaked by the time we get to camp, right?” Percy nudged Grover playfully, but it fell flat. Grover stared out the window with a worried gaze.

By the time they got off the bus at Lake Montauk station, the storm had only grown stronger; lighting was striking more often and the wind was so strong that there was no place to shelter without getting wet. Percy was glad his bag was at least semi-water proof, otherwise his clothes would be entirely soaked by the time their ride got there.

Grover’s anxiety hadn’t gotten any better throughout the bus ride. When they got to the statiation, he kept nervously pacing back and forth. Glancing around constantly like he was expecting them to get jumped by a random pedestrian. Just watching him had Percy getting a little worried.

He looked down to check his watch and frowned. “Grover, wasn’t our ride supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago? Should we call someone?”

Grover paled as he leaned over Percy’s shoulder to look at the time. He bit his lip, as if deep in thought as he looked back out at the stormy landscape. “No, no, no, I knew something felt off.” Grover grabbed his bag from Percy, setting it on the ground. “We need to move–I know a shortcut to camp.”

“I’m sorry, what is going on?” Percy watched in confusion as Grover took off his shoes and threw them in his bag to reveal… hooves?

“I’m sorry, now is not the time to explain, but I can’t run in these shoes and I have a really bad feeling about this storm. We need to get you to camp now.” Grover threw his bag over his shoulder.

Percy was stunned, but Grover didn’t give him any time to protest before grabbing his arm and taking off running, or hoofing, towards the woods. It didn’t seem like they were following any particular path through the trees; in fact, it seemed like they were trying to shake someone–or something–off their trail.

Percy stumbled forward, trying to fall into step with Grover, but he was shockingly fast now that he had ditched his shoes. As they were running, he kept glancing back, muttering “Not again, not again…”

Percy was half dead when they stumbled out of the trees and back onto the road. He tried to catch his breath as he looked around hopefully for their destination. Somehow they had cut around through the woods to… somewhere with more trees and hills. It didn’t look like there was any camp in sight.

Grover pulled him forward again, interrupting his train of thought. “Come on! We’re almost to the border, it’s just past the tree–”

Grover’s encouragement was cut off by a flash of light that burned Percy’s vision to black. There was a weightless sensation as he was flung backwards, hitting the ground and getting the wind knocked out of him. There was a sharp pain in his back and his shoulder as he laid on the wet grass.

His ears were ringing as he tried to shake off the haze. They hadn’t been blown up, luckily, but they had been flung off the road by what he had to assume was lightning. Grover was laying motionless, head on a rock. He had probably smacked his head when he flew backwards which wasn’t good news.

Percy stumbled forward, remembering Alfred’s short list: heartbeat, breathing, blood, swelling. He placed his head to Grover’s chest, getting a strong heartbeat and a gentle rise and fall, meaning he was at least breathing. There didn’t seem to be major swelling anywhere important, but there was blood in his curls, and also horns, but Percy didn’t have time to unpack that.

If he had really hit his head hard enough to fall unconscious, he needed medical attention as soon as possible, but there didn’t seem to be anything nearby, much less a medical professional, but a summer camp should have someplace to deal with injuries in the short term. Percy wracked his brain trying to remember what Grover had just said about where they were going. Something about a border and a pine tree?

As his vision cleared up, he squinted against the rain, noticing a single pine tree in the distance on the other side of the road. Percy had to trust that Grover knew what he was talking about and head for the tree. He hoisted Grover onto his back, trying to position him in a way that he could drag him along without hurting him any worse.

One step at a time, Percy dragged Grover forward. Every step felt like an eternity, but at least it was progress, and as long as he could hear Grover breathing, he couldn’t give up. His legs and lungs were burning from the mad trail running and his shoulder was in agony from smacking the ground. It was probably dislocated, but that was tomorrow Percy’s problem.

In the distance, he could see the pine tree getting closer. On his back, Grover had started mumbling about food, which was the best sign yet. Percy felt his chest get a little bit lighter as he hauled Grover to the tree. They were going to make it!

*Crunch*

Percy turned around with just enough time to throw Grover to the side and drop to the ground as a full on tree trunk was thrown at his head. The storm made it hard to see clearly, but lighting flashes illuminated a dark silhouette in the distance.

He was big. Percy guessed that he was probably bigger than Bane, who Percy had seen one time after an attack near his school, which wasn’t great news for Percy–who had no idea how to deal with a superhuman attacker other than hide and hope Batman or Robin deals with it. All he had was an unconscious goat-boy hybrid and a whole lot of back pain.

Another flash of lightning struck nearby, illuminating the whole field, and giving Percy a whole new existential crisis. What he assumed was a strange man was some kind of half-bull, half-man, very angry monster. He recognized it from one of Mr. Brunner's lessons, point to him, but it was also not a monster he knew how to escape, point cow-man. Percy just had to pray that it couldn’t see him or Grover in the grass, and it would eventually leave.

Percy’s heart was in his throat as he shimmied on the ground, trying to make his way over to Grover. He could barely see anything through the grass and rain. Grover decided to make it easy on him by moaning, “Fooood.”

Percy spotted Grover several feet behind him in the grass, but clearly the Minutar had heard something as well, because he let out an earth shaking bellow as he whipped around to find the source of the noise. The bull-man stomped his hooves and flared his nostrils. There was a good chance he had caught their scent now, and he was gearing up to charge them.

Percy felt the world slow down as he looked between the monster and his unconscious best friend lying in the grass. The tree was only a few yards away, if he made a break for it, he might get there before the monster got him, but there was a good chance that Grover would be discovered by the monster if Percy left him behind. Every instinct in his body was telling him that running was the only way out of this alive. There was no way that no one died. He had to run.

“Hey!” Percy screamed at the top of his lungs, sprinting back towards the tree and away from Grover. “Hey, stupid! Ground beef! Bootleg Bane!”

The minotaur’s head whipped in Percy’s direction, shaking his hulking fists. “Muurrrraaaahhh!”

Percy swung his red raincoat around, trying to make himself as visible as possible. His plan was as simple as it got for bullfighting: dodge out of the way at the last second and let the bull-man run straight into the tree. Hopefully he would be stunned long enough for Percy to haul Grover to cover.

Unfortunately, It didn’t work out that way. Unlike bulls, the minotaur had arms. Two beefy, massive arms that were spread out to the sides as he charged, making it impossible to dodge to either side. He sprinted at Percy, full tilt and head low.

With no time to think, Percy acted on instinct. He jumped in the only possible direction: straight up. In the split second before the bull-man was going to impale Percy and ram the tree, Percy vaulted onto the monster’s back, using its head as a springboard and turning midair to latch onto his neck.

Percy was nearly thrown off just by the impact of the minotaur hitting the tree. Now, some odd 15 feet in the air, Percy latched his arms around the minotaur’s horns just to avoid being thrown off and trampled to death. He was lucky the monster wasn’t smart enough to slam him against the tree and shatter his spine, but pretty quickly, he had new things to worry about.

The worst rodeo of Percy’s life was made infinitely worse when Grover started groaning, “Food!” in the grass. The bull-man whipped around in his direction, pawing the ground. The minotaur was going to charge.

For a moment, all he could see was blood and water staining the floor of a crumbling apartment, and all at once, the tide in his body rushed to his head. Percy screamed as he wrapped both hands around one horn and threw his body weight backwards.

The horn snapped clean off as the bull man roared like he had just, well, ripped off a body part. Percy was flung backwards, hitting the ground and smacking his head against a rock. His vision was blurry for a moment, but he could feel the horn in his hands–a warm piece of bone that was only about the size of a knife.

The minotaur roared again, mowing down the grass as he charged in Percy’s direction. Running on nothing but adrenalin and instinct, he rolled to the side and as the monster ran past, he slammed the horn into its side.

The bull-man stiffened as it roared in pain. It stiffened and clawed at its skin as it dissolved into golden dust, blown away like sand in the wind, the same way Ms. Dodds had disintegrated on the field trip.

Percy lay in the grass for a moment, before shooting up and promptly heaving up his dinner. He tried to process what had just happened, but the adrenalin was wearing off and all he could think about was Grover still lying in the grass. He hauled himself to his feet, legs feeling like rubber wrapped around dry twigs. He stumbled to Grover’s side and hauled him up, staggering past the tree. Suddenly, Percy could spot a house in the distance. The crashing wave of relief from realizing they were safe gave him just enough energy to stumble down the hill and collapse onto the wooden front porch, where he promptly fell unconscious.

Notes:

Percy: I’m better than this. I choose peace.
Nancy: I’m not. Guess what Jackson?
…
Nancy, 5 minutes later: I should have taken the peace option.

Grover in the bathroom: *Gets sprayed as all of the sinks go off at once.*
Grover in the bathroom: Why are the sprinklers going off with no alarm?
Grover in the bathroom: … … …
Grover in the bathroom: PERCY–

Percy: I just, I don’t want to go home like this, you know? I just feel like I’m failing all the people who believe in me…
Grover, seizing the moment: Well buddy, how would you like to spend the summer with me at the most amazing summer camp!

Story notes:
Holy crap, this was fun to write. 95% of this chapter was written stream of consciousness right after I took my ADHD meds for the first time in a month. I reread the first four chapters just to remind myself how it goes in canon, and I was really disappointed that the reason he got kicked out, the final straw, was him calling a teacher an “old sot”. I figured, what if I can do it better and with more trauma attached! See if you can spot some of the hidden parallels to my earlier chapters in that first scene!

As for the second half, I am sure many of you were wondering if Percy ditches Grover without Sally, and how he gets to camp without Sally, and how the minotaur goes down without Sally… and here is my answer! I spent a ton of time working out something that makes sense plot wise and works for this version of Percy. Hopefully I can avoid any major swaths that are just me rewriting the books in these interludes, because the real goal is to emphasize the what, how, and why of all the important things that have changed because of how Percy’s childhood changed.

Let me know if you have any questions or concerns about this chapter or the upcoming chapters. I love hearing your theories and suggestions! I have taken suggestions and criticisms in the past, and I hope to continue to do so going forward!

Life notes:
You may have noticed that this chapter is very late. This is because of depression and the absolute hole I had to dig myself out of at the end of this semester. Apparently doing school for 10 months straight with no breaks, poor mental health, and complete disregard for my own mental and emotional state can cause problems! Just to ease your minds a little, the long break was because I needed to wrap up the necessities (school, depression) before taking some time to recover from the burnout caused by my poor choices. I am doing much better. I am taking a break from school and work while I am waiting for my new job to start in a month or so. I am going to continue this story to completion, so help me AO3 gods, I swear I will do it.

If you need some happy news, it’s Pride Month!!! (As of time of writing, it took me a full day to edit this.) Hence, I am objectively 73% more powerful and 54% more hot. Cool story, I recently came out to one of my friends, and she was like, “Wait, me too?” and it was a happy wholesome time. I am constantly grateful for the good people in my life, I have had a surprisingly good reception for being at a Christian university and coming from a very conservative family. (Dad still doesn’t know, but we are still trying to convince him that he is neurodivergent, my ADHD and ASD didn't fall out of the void, and just because he is successful doesn’t mean he isn’t also very autistic. The whole, “being gay isn’t actually a choice and attraction is a spectrum” thing will come with time.)

Chapter 13: Chapter 7: Tim

Notes:

As an apology for two very dark chapters, I give my readers this offering, if thou wouldst accept it.
TW: Tim has Trauma
As always, thank you for your Kudos and comments! Y'all are the reason I push myself to keep writing. I thrive under pressure. #ADHD_Problems

The silence in the dining room was so thick, standing up felt like swimming through jello. As Tim rose from his seat, both sets of eyes from across the table darted in his direction. Tim froze in place, startled like a deer in green headlights. Dick had a flat expression on his face; lips pressed together in a fine line. He was in damage control mode, Tim recognized that look from Dick’s time as Batman. He looked away with a sigh and Tim’s eyes flicked over in Jason’s direction, and Tim felt the lump in his throat drop to the bottom of his stomach.

Jason looked… really not happy. Like, pit green kind of not happy. It had been months since he had a serious episode, and Tim had forgotten how much seeing Jason like this could affect him. Jason's eyes were narrowed and his fists were clenched tight; though his expression was frozen in some mix of anger and worry. Whether it was for Damian or about Damian, Tim couldn’t tell, but it didn’t really matter much at the moment, he could barely breathe as acid green headlights left him blindsighted.

Jason set down his fork and Tim’s legs braced without thinking. He quickly tried to disguise his tension with a cough. The silence stretched longer and the fog in the room had turned to lead. They stared at each other as Tim counted seven heartbeats, six empty cups, five loose documents… before Jason looked down and let out a sigh. Tim matched his sigh, feeling his muscles loosen. With the tension broken, he quickly looked away from Jason and turned towards the door to leave.

Tim heard the sound of silverware falling to the floor and flinched. Jason sucked in another breath, “Hang on, maybe I should-”

“No. You shouldn’t.” Tim sounded robotic. The words didn’t sound anything like he had intended, gentle or calming, but no emotion was better than angry or scared. He knew Jason couldn’t help it, he knew that Jason was fighting something none of them could see, but Tim knew better than anyone in this house that helpless mistakes can still leave permanent scars. (He felt an itch just below his ribcage, it felt like screaming somewhere in the distance.)

Tim stiffly grabbed the door handle, and he heard the sound of two bodies standing up from their seats behind him. ‘Breathe. You can handle this’. Before Tim could tell Jason to sit back down, Dick spoke up. “You go talk to Damian, and I’ll have a conversation with Jason. We’ll catch up with you later; tell Damian to get started without us.”

Tim nodded without turning around and stepped out into the hallway. Once he was alone, he let out a gasping breath. He slowed his breathing, trying to soothe his anxiety. He knew, he knew, that it had been years since Jason had ever done anything violent during a… flare up of the Pits. Even still, Tim felt his hands shaking as he clasped them together. He could hear Jason’s frustrated protests from through the dining room door.

Standing there was not helping him feel better, and he didn’t want to be stuck in the hallway when Alfred came back to collect the rest of the dishes. Tim did not need any extra fussy attention this week. Dick’s mother-hen behavior was bad enough when he was just worried about Percy’s birthday. One foot in front of the other, Tim moved down the hallway to track down his little brother.

The manor was big, but there was a finite number of places that he would go. Tim checked the library first, then Damian’s room, then the green house, the art room, and the gym, then finally checked Percy’s room. No sign of Damian.

Tim sighed, leaning against the doorframe of Percy’s room. Even if he found Damian, he wouldn’t know what to say to make him feel better. Tim knew that Damian meant well, but Percy was a touchy subject for Jason. For everyone who lived in the manor. Tim once tried to bond with Jason over their memories of Percy, but it didn’t go well. Both of them had too many regrets about what Percy never knew and what Percy never told them. Tim had even tried what Damian was doing now, but Percy hadn’t wanted to celebrate his birthday after Jason’s death either. He was clueless on how to make this situation any better than it was.

Maybe things would never get any better than they were. Tim certainly didn’t have good luck with trying to fix things up.

Tim took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of sea salt and… rain? He glanced towards the window on the far side of the room, and sure enough, it was slightly ajar. Tim couldn’t help smiling a little bit. Percy’s window was one of the only windows that weren’t booby trapped by Bruce since Percy wasn’t a crime fighting flight risk like the rest of the family. Little did Bruce know that Percy used to abuse the fact that his window had easy roof access all the time.

Tim climbed out the open window, closing most of the way as he slid onto the roof. The clouds outside were gray, signaling a storm was on the way. The sun had risen an hour ago, and the light from behind from the clouds was only barely visible. Despite the darkness, there was a kind of peaceful feeling settling in his stomach. Gotham city was quiet in the morning. Tim didn’t get to see this view often.

The ‘scritching’ sound of a pencil broke him out of his daze. Tim glanced up the roof and saw Damian sitting with his sketchbook, quietly working on something. He was so focused that he hadn’t noticed Tim on the roof below him. He had the same look on his face that Percy used to get when he was doodling his favorite fish.

There was a quiet wash of grief that Tim hadn’t expected. Damian was far more like Percy than he had realized, and neither of them would ever know how close they were. But maybe… maybe Tim could close the gap for Damian at least.

The roof was slicker than usual as he climbed his way up to Damian’s perch. The ‘scritching’ stopped as Tim sat down next to him. He didn’t look up from his drawing, but Tim could feel the anxiety radiating off his slumped shoulders.

“You remind me of Percy.” Tim said wistfully. Damian set down his pencil, glancing over at Tim. “Belive it or not, you really are just like him. This was his favorite place to draw too.”

An idea popped into Tim’s head, and he dug his phone out of his pocket. Damian stared at him a little confused as Tim furiously dug through his personal files. Finally he stopped on one labeled, “Art Scans - 20XX”. He clicked it open to reveal nearly a hundred different sketches and doodles that Tim had scanned and saved.

Tim handed the phone to Damian, clicking on a rough sketch of the Gotham skyline. “He always liked sitting here because he thought it was where he could get the best view of the ocean. Most of the time he would just doodle whatever was on his mind, but sometimes he would draw things like this.”

Damian held the phone like he was holding a delicate animal. His eyes softened as he looked between Percy’s sketch and his own drawing of the skyline. They had very different styles, and Damian was clearly more practiced, but Gotham never changed much. You could clearly tell that both drawings had been done from the same vantage point.

“He clearly needs to work on his shading.” Damian’s voice was thick and shaky. Tim could tell he had been crying. “You can’t tell what time of day it is at all. It’s clearly amateur work.” Damian scooted over, holding the phone out to Tim pointing at one of the buildings in the background. “But you can tell that he was drawing in the morning because he had to redo the outlines several times because of the glare from the sun. See all these smudges?”

Tim smiled, taking the phone from Damian. “Guess that makes sense. Percy was kind of an early bird. He had an early curfew because B didn’t want to go on patrol until Percy was asleep, so he was always up really early in the morning.”

“I remember one night where Riddler had us caught up in a warehouse for nearly seven hours. This was maybe, three years ago?” Tim leaned back, propping himself up with his elbows. “It was after I got adopted at least, because I had moved into the manor at this point. By the time we got back after arresting Eddie, Percy was already awake and I had to sneak into my room from the window and throw myself into my bed.” Tim laughed. Damian rolled his eyes, but there was a smile growing on his face too. “See, it was Christmas break, and I promised to go sledding with him, and he busted into the room to wake me up while I was still in costume. Luckily I had taken off my mask and I was already buried in blankets, so he didn’t see anything, but I didn’t get any sleep that night.”

“Cutting it a bit close then Drake?” Damian smirked. “It’s a miracle he didn’t figure it out if you were being that reckless.”

Tim laughed again. “You’re telling me. Percy was one of the most perceptive people I have ever met, but he really has selective vision. At galas, we would play this game where we would try to figure out who was having affairs with who, and Percy noticed that Selina and Bruce were back together again before I did, even though we had run into Catwoman six times in the past month. I really should have guessed…” Damian elbowed him, and Tim playfully shoved him back. “But in any case, he could spot things like that a mile away, but he never picked up on when girls were flirting with him. The Hension girl, you know the one, she has purple hair?” Damian nodded along. “Anyway, would practically throw herself at him at every party, and he never even realized she liked him.”

Damian raised his eyebrows playfully the way that Bruce would do when he was being sarcastic. “Drake, you started this conversation by saying I remind you of Perseus. Are you trying to say something?”

“No, no, not like that. You are different people. It’s just that both of you share a lot of things too.” Tim smiled, sitting up to look out at the ocean.

“Like drawing?”

“Yeah, but you also have a tendency to get yourself in trouble because you never back down, especially not to bullies.” Tim smiled. “Percy never actually told me this himself, but he got kicked out of Yancy Academy for breaking a bullies nose. I learned about it after I did a background check on his friend Grover. I guess he didn’t tell us because he thought it wasn’t a big deal, but the girl he punched was an absolute nightmare.”

Damian scoffed. “He got expelled from school for standing up to a bully? What kind of corrupt administration was running that school?”

Tim sighed, pulling his knees up. “It was a correctional school, so they had a strict policy on physical violence, but Percy didn’t want to go back to that school anyway. When he came back after staying with his friend in New York, B offered to talk to the administration and get him sent back. Percy said he’d rather go somewhere else, so we found a different school to send him to.”

“Why not send him to Gotham prep?” Damian had set aside his drawing supplies at this point, and had fully turned to face Tim. “Father has quite a bit of influence there, and almost all of us have attended it.”

“A few reasons. Percy didn’t love the attention he got for being a Wayne. Gotham prep is full of classist pricks. He was still ‘figuring himself out’. That kind of thing. Not to mention, having him away at boarding school made it a lot easier to do work as Batman and Robin.” Tim sighed. “I did miss him all the time though. I mean, he was my best friend, even if he didn’t know about the nightlife. He did end up going to Gotham prep after that…” Tim trailed off, feeling a shiver. “It was kind of fun to go to school together, even if we didn’t share a lot of classes.”

“What changed his mind?” Damian was fully in investigation mode. Tim hesitated, but Damian had this excited, bright light in his eyes that he recognized from the mirror. Tim took a deep breath and continued.

Meriwether was a good school, but it closed down because there was a gas leak that led to an explosion in the gym. Percy needed a new school, and when he got back from visiting his friend Grover, he said he would be okay with staying in Gotham. B was hesitant of course; Gotham gets more dangerous as the nights get longer and he wanted to keep Percy out of harm's way. But then… circumstances changed” Tim gripped his knees tighter as his throat closed up. “That was the year I was with the Titans, and that summer…” Tim swallowed the lump in his throat. “That was the summer Red Hood appeared.”

Damian furrowed his brow, trying to piece together what Tim was trying to say. Tim, the Titans, Red Hood… Tim watched as the realization dawned on his face as he figured out what Tim was implying. His looked away, expression conflicted. “Oh. I see.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah. A Gotham rogue attacked a secure facility all the way across the country and I got really hurt…” Tim felt another twinge in his gut. “B decided that it was safer for Percy where Batman could protect him.”

They both got quiet. Red Hood’s first year in Gothman was always a hard topic. No one blamed Jason, at least not anymore. With everything Tim had learned and experienced during his time with the League… he understood what happened and why it happened. Damian knew what Jason was like during that time better than anyone. But the damage that was done lingers like a phantom limb, aching even though it’s long since healed over.

Tim sighed, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to bring up Jason, but you should know–”

“Mother tried desperately to convince me that Perseus was a mistake. Did you know that?” Damian turned to look at him, and Tim shook his head slowly. “She told me that he was like a weak stray cat that had found his way to a position he was wholly unfit for. A stain on father’s reputation holding false claim to my seat. ‘At least those other boys are somewhat useful’, she’d say.”

Tim sat in silence, listening to Damian’s story. There was an unspoken tragedy hidden in his words. He had to wonder if the reason Damian had been so hostile towards him when he first arrived was because he needed to be everything his mother told him Percy wasn’t. Useful, deserving, fierce…

Damian clenched his fists. “I wonder if the only reason my mother didn’t get rid of him is because of Todd. She turned him against father, Richard, the whole league even. But I don’t think she ever managed to twist his memories of Perseus. Todd may have rebelled against the league if she attempted anything against him.”

“Knowing my mother, Todd has good reason to be protective of Percy.” Damian sighed, letting his hands relax as his shoulders drooped. “I don’t blame him for how he reacted. In fact, I’m surprised you’ve been so… open about this whole thing.”

Tim felt an ache in his chest. Everyone in this family had been burned in one way or another. Survival so often means protecting yourself and hiding your burdens so no one knows you’re weak, even if it means loneliness and quiet suffering. Damian was just like Percy, but he was also just like Tim. Afraid of rejection, desperate to hold onto anything he’s been given, longing for family and home.

They really were brother’s, weren’t they. All of them. So similar in the ways they were hurting, the things they needed.

“This spot was really special to Percy. He said it was his safe place. And you know what?” Tim slowly reached out to Damian, giving him a chance to move away if he wasn’t comfortable. Instead, Damian slowly slid closer to Tim, letting Tim wrap his arm around him. “He would drag me up here with him whenever I was sad. He didn’t need to share his peace with me, but he did. And you know what?” Tim gave a gentle squeeze, pulling Damian close. “If he was here today, he would be the one on this roof with you trying to make you feel better. Because that’s what family is supposed to do.”

Damian didn’t say anything as he pulled Tim close, wrapping his arms around him into a hug. Tim hugged him back, letting Damian relax into his chest. They sat there as the rain began to fall, soaking their backs. Tim’s hair was dripping onto Damian’s shirt and Damian had grabbed his sketchbook to cover it with his jacket. They sat there in the rain, both of them feeling seen for the first time in a long time.

Eventually, Damian’s grip on Tim’s shirt loosened, and they let their arms relax as they pulled apart. Damian’s eyes were puffy again, but so were Tim’s. Damian giggled and Tim couldn’t help but smile back.

“You look ridiculous, Drake.”

“Can’t say you look any better Al-Ghul.”

Damian's smile faded a little and he cleared his throat. “Drake, I’m not sure if you are aware, but in many cultures, using someone’s given name is a sign of familiarity and closeness. Considering what you’ve said today, would it be appropriate for me–”

Tim couldn’t help but laugh. “Call me Tim for god’s sake Damian. We’re family.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I was trying to be polite, Timothy. At least respect my decorum.”

Tim rolled his eyes in return. “Oh please. Save the decorum for gala’s and parties. As long as you don’t call me a slur or anything, it’s fine.”

Damian smirked. “Be careful what you say Timothy. You’re giving me a lot of free reign here, after all, there are much better ways to insult someone than resorting to discrimination.”

Tim was about to shoot back when he spotted Dick climbing out of Percy’s window with Jason in tow. Damian seemed to have noticed them too because he slid a little closer to Tim. Dick spotted them sitting on the perch and waved at them with an excited smile. Jason didn’t look in their direction as Dick pulled him up the slick roof.

“Figured you’d be up here.” Dick pulled himself up next to them with an acrobat’s grace. “It’s one of the best hiding spots in the whole estate. Percy used to love coming up here to draw.” He smiled wistfully. “Still can’t believe he didn’t have any background in gymnastics, he could climb up here with a lawn chain and a whole cooler in his arms.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “It’s hardly a perilous climb. I’m sure Perseus had plenty of practice from all the times he needed to hide from all of you being annoying.”

Dick shrugged. “Just saying. He was surprisingly athletic for being such a skater boy.”

Dick turned around looking for Jason, before spotting him standing awkwardly waiting nearly 20 feet further down the roof. He looked a little embarrassed, probably feeling bad about how he had a full on episode over a birthday party. Dick rolled his eyes and waved him up towards the perch. “Come on! Don’t be a baby, you have to actually apologise."

Jason quickly flipped Dick off before lifting himself onto their part of the roof and walking over. Before he even said anything, Jason tossed Tim an umbrella. “You look like a wet cat.”

Tim opened the umbrella, positioning it so that Damian and his art supplies were fully protected from rain. Dick looked expectantly at Jason, but he just shrugged. “If you didn’t think to grab your own umbrella, that’s your problem, not mine, Dickiebird.”

Jason sat down next to Tim, letting him act as a buffer between Damian and himself. “Sorry about earlier. I know it’s been a hard week for everyone, but that’s not an excuse. I really overreacted, and that’s not okay.”

Tim nodded as Damian shrugged, “Thanks, but I’m not really mad about it.” Damian sighed, turning to face his brothers. “I probably should have talked to all of you first when I had questions about Percy, instead of investigating behind your back, but I promise that it’s nothing nefarious. I guess… I just wanted to learn about my family.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck, still looking a little embarrassed. “Yeah, I probably should have told you more about him early on, huh? It’s not like he was this big secret or anything, it's just that, those memories… they were really precious to me, still are, and I didn’t want them to be twisted by the pit. I figured if I didn’t really think about him, they would stay good, you know?”

Tim and Damian shared a look, and Damian smiled. “I figured it was something like that.”

Jason looked a little surprised, but he smiled back. “Oh, um, good. I don’t want you thinking that you can’t ask me things.”

Tim heard a tapping sound and looked around Jason to see Dick, seeming to have finally lost his patience, tapping his foot against the roof looking a little flabbergasted. He barely let Jason finish his sentence before jumping in saying, “Speaking of questions Jason, would you like to answer Damian’s question from earlier?”

Jason eyebrows narrowed before recognition flashed on his face. “Right! You are so right.” Jason turned back to Damian. “You wanted to throw a memorial birthday party, right?”

Damian nodded, looking a little hesitant.

“I’m down. Let’s do it.”

Tim had to do a double take to make sure he heard Jason correctly, and it looked like Damian was just as confused as him. Jason still looked dead serious, so Tim realized that he was being totally serious.

Tim smiled, still a little shocked. “You’re being serious, right? We can actually have a real party, for Percy, and you, tomorrow, and you’ll be fine with it?”

Jason nodded. “I mean, as long as I get to help with all the planning so you guys don’t ruin it, I’ll be okay. After all…” Jason looked over at Dick. “...good family works together.”

Dick smiled, and they shared a quiet moment. Tim guessed that Dick had somehow convinced Jason that this party was going to be good for all of them somehow. Regardless of how he did it, Tim was grateful. After talking about Percy with Damian, he felt a lot better about… everything, but especially his family. It felt like things were finally moving in the right direction.

Tim turned back towards the ocean, a relaxed smile on his face. The wind was blowing inland and Tim could see clear sky coming in from the sea. The storm was going to blow over within the hour. Clear skies were pretty rare in Gotham, so this seemed like a good omen.

Tim stood up, handing Damian the umbrella. He stretched his back, arms above his head, and said, “I’m gonna get back down and tell Alfred the good news. He’ll want confirmation that the party is actually happening.”

Damian nodded. “I should come as well. Since this was my suggestion, I intend to take responsibility for ensuring that everything goes smoothly.”

Jason laughed and stood up. He reached behind Tim to give Damian a gentle flick on the forehead. “Rule number one of an epic party, no stressing. It ruins the whole thing. Trust me, I was in charge of all these parties and all of them were incredible.”

Dick coughed. “No stressing about anything, huh? Is that why you didn’t remember to get a cake that one year?”

Jason rolled his eyes and gave Dick a gentle push. What neither of them expected was for Dick to slip on the slick roof tiles and slide ten feet down, nearly falling off. Damian jumped up to go after him but he stood up so suddenly, that he fell backwards, knocking Tim over. Jason was the last one standing, frozen in shock until Dick started laughing, at which point Jason started laughing too. Damian rolled his eyes, pushing himself off of Tim.

Tim smiled as he sat up, calling down to Dick, “Shouldn’t you be better about not falling off roofs at this point? You’ve got, like, ten years of experience at this point.”

Dick flipped him off, which only made Jason laugh harder. Tim stood up, accidentally bumping into Damian, who looked surprisingly pensive.

“You said Jackson came here all the time, correct? How did he avoid slipping off the roof without any training?” Damian mused.

All of them paused for a second, thinking about it. Tim added to his question, “Actually, I don’t think I have ever seen Percy slip on water, ever. Isn’t that weirder?”

Dick shrugged. “Percy was cool like that.”

Jason, who was still stuck on Damian’s question piped up, “My bet is that he would get off the roof before it started raining. He always had a weird sense about when a storm was coming off the ocean.”

All of them stood there for a solid minute, feeling a little bewildered at the realization that Percy seemed completely ‘slip-proof’ before Damian lost his patience and slid down the roof towards Percy’s window. As he slid, he called out, “I’m going to find Alfred. You are all welcome to join me at your convenience.”

Tim rolled his eyes, moving to follow him. “Sure, I’m coming.”

Tim slid down the roof, passing Dick who was still lost in thought, and hopped over to Percy’s window. Damian opened the window, gesturing with one hand, “After you Timothy.”

Tim smiled, feeling a familiar feeling of comfort that he had been missing for a long time. “Of course Damian. See you inside.”

Notes:

A very cathartic chapter to write, let me tell you. I think it was Jelly_the_Bear who asked for hugs all around, so this goes out to them. I don’t know if you can tell, but I have four siblings that I would absolutely die for, even the one I fight the most with, and I have been craving some good open sibling conversation from the batboys.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about how Tim has one of the most sad (overall) stories of the batboys. I cannot think of a single happy thing that Tim had that he really gets to keep or enjoy, and that really hit different as I was writing this chapter. There was much hurt that needed to be comforted this chapter so I gave it my best shot. Damian and Tim are much more alike than they realize, which is beautiful and sad at the same time.

I am really glad I got to share Tim’s perspective on what Percy is/was going through in the interludes, and the small but critical misunderstandings are like stab wounds in the feels :) Persephone_Speaks, who is an absolute darling, was in the comment section of the last chapter pointing out that the real tragedy of this story is all the misunderstandings and failures that are perfectly in character, and guess what fools, that’s what a tragedy is! Something that is perfectly avoidable, but the characters won’t do what is needed to avoid the tragedy; despite their best efforts, their nature leads them to make horrible mistakes. And because the Batfam is full of deeply flawed but well intentioned people, I have so many good weapons to use against them!

I am not a good person. Feel free to curse me in the comments.

Chapter 14: Percy’s Interlude: Twelve Years-Old - Part Three

Notes:

This chapter is my longest chapter by far, so please enjoy!
Important Note: Many of you have expressed disinterest in reading any sections of these interludes that may be too similar to the books and are therefore boring. Everything I have written is my own writing with some paraphrasing from the books. There are many bonus jokes and lore drops for those who are paying attention. ;)
IF YOU WANT TO SKIP THE SIMILAR STUFF, there is a segment marked [Major Divergence Start] that EVERYONE SHOULD READ, because it resolves a big issue up till now. Skip the rest if you really want to.
Bonus funnies at the end!

Percy always had very vivid dreams. Most of them didn’t make much sense, but his dreams this time really didn’t make sense. Not unless there was some hidden meaning to be found in ravenous barnyard animals who threatened to kill him unless he fed them.

In between his weird dreams, he had even weirder moments of consciousness. A soft bed and white lights. Being fed butter popcorn flavored pudding. Being interrogated by a blond angel. A surfer with enough baby blues to be considered lovecraftian. All very strange experiences that did not help with his drowsy disorientation.

When Percy finally woke up for good, the first thing he noticed was the overwhelming smell of strawberries in the breeze. The next thing he noticed was how cozy he was: he was sitting in a deck chair with a pillow behind his neck and a blanket over his legs. He would have been happy to fall back asleep right away, except his teeth hurt more than the time he face planted at the skate park and the feeling in his mouth was a little too reminiscent of the time he accidentally breathed in fear gas.

Percy spotted a tall glass of juice on the table next to him, but his hand clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that they desperately needed a drink because he nearly dropped the glass right after lifting it off the table.

“Woah, careful.”

Grover was standing on the porch, leaning against, looking perfectly normal and nothing like a part-goat, mythical creature that Percy had somehow imagined him to be. ‘I must be more concussed than I thought.’ Grover was wearing jeans and a bright orange shirt that read, “Camp Half-Blood”. He looked so normal that for a moment, Percy wondered if he had fallen asleep on the bus and Grover had to haul him all the way to his summer camp home.

It was a hopeful idea that was almost believable, except for the fact that Grover looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks and he was gripping the shoebox in his hands like he was about to hand Percy his grandfather’s ashes.

“Thank you. For saving my life.” Grover said. “I, uh, figured you might want this, so I went back to the hill to grab it.”

Grover gently set the box in Percy’s lap, hands shaking. Feeling a little confused, Percy opened the box. Inside was a black-and-white bull’s horn. The break was messy, leaving a jagged edge, and the tip was still covered in dried blood. Percy could see his own bloody fingerprints wrapped around it.

Percy didn’t know what to say. It was easy enough to assume all the weird things he had seen were a product of a concussion and his own lack of sanity. But this? This was solid proof. He knew that if he reached into the box, his hand would fit perfectly around the horn and his fingers would line up exactly with the bloody fingerprints. It was all too real for him to dismiss as delusion.

“Did I kill him?” Percy sucked in a breath and waited for the inevitable response. He was pretty sure he could get off for self defense, but he never anticipated going to court this young.

Grover nodded solemnly. “It’s rare to kill a monster like that with no training, but if you hadn’t…” Grover shivered.

Percy blinked.

Percy processed.

Percy hesitantly asked, “Are you an anti-meta activist, or did you literally mean ‘monster’ unironically because I really don’t like either answer.”

Grover stared back, confused. “An anti-meta… you mean like, humans who have abdominal abilities? Why would I have a problem with them?”

Percy let his head fall into his hands. “You meant monster as in actual monster. So that was the actual Minotaur and not some guy with a bull head?”

Grover winced. “Maybe don’t say the real name-”

“But isn’t that what he’s called in Greek myth? Half bull, half man?” Percy asked.

Grover sighed. “Listen Percy, you’ve been unconscious for two days. How much do you remember?”

Percy frowned. “We were traveling to your camp place… we got off at the bus stop to wait for our ride, but you got really anxious and said we needed to run. You dragged me through the woods till we got to the road again, then we may have been struck by lightning?”

Grover flinched.

“You got knocked unconscious, and you had a head injury, so ran in the direction you were taking us, hoping there would be medical staff at camp, but we got ambushed by the bull-man thing, and-” Percy stopped as he realized that Grover was sniffling and looked like he was about to lose it. “Hey man, it’s not your fault. I don’t know much about monsters, but I’m guessing you aren’t their supreme commander or anything.”

Grover sniffed again. “But I’m supposed to keep you safe and away from monsters.”

“Did I ask you to protect me?”

“No, but I’m your friend, not to mention, it’s my job. I’m a keeper! At least… I was.” Grover looked ready to cry and Percy had no idea what was going on. He sat up to hug Grover, but his vision quickly went from 4k to kaleidoscoped in seconds. Grover quickly noticed that Percy wasn’t doing well, and reached for the glass on the table. “Here. Take a sip of this.”

Whatever was in the range of flavors that Percy was expecting, there was nothing even close to what he actually got. Liquid chocolate chip cookies, just like the ones his mom used to make. Before this moment he wasn't even sure he remembered exactly what they tasted like, but he was absolutely sure. This was the taste of his mom’s homemade blue chocolate chip cookies. Percy felt a wash of grief and nostalgia all at once. It had been so long since he had thought about his mom and his life before everything went wrong.

Without thinking, he finished the whole glass in a matter of minutes. He stared at the empty glass, a little dazed. There were ice cubes in the glass, but he was sure the drink was warm.

“Was it good?” Grover asked.

Percy hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“What did it taste like?” Grover sounded so wistful, and Percy realized he had finished the whole drink right in front of Grover.

“Oh shoot, I should have offered you some.” Percy said.

Grover’s eyes went wide and he quickly reassured Percy, “Oh, I’m not upset or anything. I was just… curious what it tasted like.”

Percy nodded, a little confused. “It tasted like my mom’s chocolate chip cookies. I haven’t had them since she died.”

Grover furrowed his brows in confusion. “I thought you said you lived with your dad?”

“I do. If it matters, he adopted me after my mom died. I’ve never met my birth dad. I can’t believe I never told you about it.” Percy frowned. Had he really been that closed off about his home life?

Grover’s face grew paler, like he just realized he was allergic to enchiladas. He glanced out towards the strawberry fields, tapping his foot anxiously. “How are you feeling?”

Percy sat up, stretching. “Like I could outrun the flash.”

“That’s good, I don’t think you could handle any more of that stuff.” Grover took the glass from Percy’s hands like he was dealing with radioactive waste, setting it down on the table. “And I need to take you to meet Chiron and Mr. D. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.

Percy nodded, assuming that those were the camp directors. Grover helped him stand up, and despite his confidant proclamation, his legs were still wobbly. The porch wrapped around the whole house and Percy was fairly sure he would faceplant well before he made it wound the front side. Grover offered to carry his horn, but Percy insisted on holding onto it. Right now, it was the only thing proving that he hadn’t completely lost it.

As they rounded the corner of the house, Percy found himself stuck in place. In all the insanity of their mad rush to get to camp, Percy had forgotten that they were on Long Island. The valley opened all the way out towards the ocean, glittering in the distance. The space between the house and the ocean was dotted with structures that were reminiscent of ancient Greece: an amphitheater, an open air pavilion, a circular arena, and more.

There were kids running around in orange shirts like Grover’s by a cluster of cabins by the woods. There were kids shooting arrows at an archery range. A dozen teens were playing volleyball with other half-goat people. In the distance, Percy could see a group of kids on horseback. Except… the horses had wings?

Percy shook his head, remembering he was supposed to be meeting the camp directors. He could unpack… all of that after the meeting. Grover steered him towards the other side of the porch where two men were sitting. The man at the far side of the table reminded Percy of the picture Jason had shown him of the Penguin–short and round as a bird–with hair so black, it almost looked purple in the sunlight. And the similarities didn’t end with just his appearance, he also had this… lazy air around him, like he was sure no one could touch him. Either that, or he was drunk out of his mind. Percy shivered. He wasn’t sure which one was better.

Grover must have caught him staring because he pointed at the man and said, “That’s Mr. D, he’s the camp director. Make sure to be polite. The girl next to him is Annabeth. She’s one of the most experienced campers here, so also be polite. And then, well, you should already be pretty familiar with Chiron…” He pointed at the man sitting in the wheelchair.

Percy stared at the man’s familiar silhouette, wracking his brain, and as he registered a tweed jacket, thinning brown hair, and a messy beard, he felt his nervousness melt away.

“Mr. Brunner!” Percy stumbled forward excitedly as his former Latin teacher turned and smiled. His eyes had that same familiar glint they would sometimes get when he had done something particularly amusing and was waiting for a student to realize and call him out.

“Ah, good, Percy has arrived.” Mr. Brunner said. “Now we have enough to play.”

Mr. Brunner offered Percy a seat next to Mr. D, who looked at him with bloodshot eyes that seemed to see into his mind. Percy glanced away and Mr. D muttered, “Interesting.” Then he heaved out a sigh. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. Good luck and welcome and all that nonsense.”

Percy nodded, feeling a little odd. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Annabeth?” Mr. Brunner called to the blond girl who stood up and walked over to them. “Annabeth, meet Percy. Percy, meet Annabeth.”

Percy reached out and offered his hand, but she didn’t take it. Instead she just stared at him like he was hiding some great secret from her.

Mr. Brunner seemed blind to the awkwardness. “This is the young lady who nursed you back to health, Percy.” Percy gave a grateful smile, and her eyes narrowed even further. “Annabeth, my dear, would you mind checking in with cabin eleven about Percy’s housing situation? He’ll be staying with them for now.”

“Sure thing Chiron.” Annabeth turned to walk past Percy and as she did, her eyes fell to the horn in his hands. He wasn’t expecting any real reaction, maybe something like ‘Nice job’ or ‘Wow, you managed to take on a half-man, half-bull creature while definitely concussed!’ but he got neither. Instead, as she brushed past him, she said, “You drool when you sleep.”

Percy was so stunned he didn’t turn to watch her go. It took him a moment to remember what was happening, and by the time he did, everyone at the table was staring at him, including the camp director. He quickly glanced away, choosing instead to focus on the most familiar figure.

[Major Divergence Begins]

“So, uh, Mr. Brunner,” Percy said, “You work at camp, is that how you knew Grover?”

Mr. Brunner smiled politely, “Yes and no. I should also tell you, Percy, that my name is Chiron. Mr. Brunner was a pseudonym of sorts.”

Percy nodded, pretending not to be very confused and slightly concerned that his middle school teacher was using a pseudonym. He glanced back over at the camp director, who was still studying him like he was the menu at a very fancy restaurant–strange, poorly arranged, but definitely interesting, and slightly amusing.

Percy coughed, feeling anxious. “Well, uh, is Mr. D also a pseudonym?”

The director leaned back, and sighed loudly like Percy had asked him to loan him twenty dollars for a slot machine. “Of a sort. You should be aware, young man, that names are very powerful things. You shouldn’t go around using them for no reason.”

Percy nodded, feeling even more confused. “Oh, right. Sorry.”
Mr. Brunner–Chiron looked between Mr. D and Percy like he had just witnessed two people speak in a foreign language and was trying to figure out where they were from. Noticing that the table had fallen silent, he offered a polite smile. “It’s good to see that you made it to camp alive. It’s been a long time since I have done a proper expedition. I’d hate to think I’ve wasted my time.”

Percy paused. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. You met one during your time at Green Tree. They informed the council that you had quite a bit of potential. I decided to investigate personally, and Grover asked to be your keeper.” Mr. Brunner smiled like he had just told Percy a sweet story about forgetting his car keys and not telling him that he had been specially chosen, then manipulated, and maybe kidnapped just to get him to attend what was seeming less and less like a normal summer camp.

Percy nodded along, feeling less and less comfortable as the conversation went on. “So you came to Yancy just to… teach me?”

Chiron nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I wasn’t completely sure when I first met you, and of course Yancy had no familial information on file, so I wasn’t able to confirm anything with your parent, but as time went on, it became very clear that you were who we thought you were, even if our original assumption was wrong.”

Percy felt his blood go cold. ‘Who we thought you were’? Did they realize that he was a Wayne? Was this whole thing about to turn into a hostage situation? Was Grover playing him this whole time? Why were they being so open if Percy was being used? Were they that sure he wouldn’t be able to leave?

“Grover,” Mr. D’s impatient voice cut through Percy’s panic. “Are you playing or not?”

“Yes, sir!” Grover slid into the fourth chair at the table, avoiding any eye contact with the camp director.

“Young man, do you know how to play pinochle?” Mr. D turned in Percy’s direction.

“I’m afraid not.” Percy responded.

“Hmm.” Mr. D frowned and turned back to the table. “That’s a shame. It is, alongside gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the best games ever invented by humans. I expect you to learn the rules during your stay here.”

This time, both Chiron and Grover looked absolutely bewildered at Mr. D’s behavior, looking between the director and Percy as if they were trying to figure out what had been said between them to make him act this way.

“About that,” Percy hesitated, looking at Mr. D. “What exactly am I doing here? Grover told me that this was a summer camp he stayed at, but with everything I’ve seen and what you’ve said, I’m less and less sure that he told me the truth.”

“Percy,” Chiron gently rested his hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Did your father tell you nothing?”

Grover coughed loudly, and Chiron turned to look at him. He offered a weak smile, “Actually, Percy just told me he was adopted.” Grover swallowed, as if he was revealing a horrible mix up. “His mom died when he was young.”

Chiron turned to look at Percy, eyes wide, as if he had been told something that changed his entire understanding of Percy’s identity. Was he not aware that all of the Waynes were adopted?

“Then there is much more to explain that I had anticipated.” Chiron said. “I’m afraid our usual orientation film won’t be nearly sufficient.”

“Orientation film?” Percy asked.

“Percy, you should be aware that your friend Grover is a satyr.” Grover offered a weak smile and Percy just stared. “You also know that you have killed the Minotaur. That is no small feat, lad.” Percy frowned. ‘Why does he get to say Minotaur but I don’t?’ Chiron paused, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “What you may not know is that great forces are at work in this world. The Gods are very much alive and are influencing the world today.”

Percy stared at Chiron, then looked around the table. He waited for someone to tell him this was a prank. He hoped that he was just being teased. That Chiron would say, ‘sike’ and inform him that he was actually just Grover’s uncle who was a very normal teacher who worked at Yancy for years.

But no one said anything. Mr. D was indifferent and Grover was nodding along like this all made perfect sense.

Percy felt his heart rate accelerating as he tried to convince himself that there was a way this all made sense and didn’t end with him in a padded room. He just needed a moment to process, but it didn’t seem like he was calming down. The more he thought about what he knew the more he panicked.

Chiron–not Mr. Brunner–opened his mouth to continue, but Mr. D raised his hand and Chiron closed his mouth. “You can finish your ‘orientation’ at a later time, but there is something bothering me that I need to resolve before I forget.”

Mr. D stood up from the table, and turned to Percy. “Come with me young man, we need to have a word.”

Chiron frowned, getting that odd look on his face again, and Grover was–legitimately–eating his cards, but Percy didn’t feel like there was anything that could make this worse, so he stood and followed Mr. D into the strawberry fields.

As they walked, Percy noticed that every plant that Mr. D grazed up against immediately started producing ripe strawberries. He watched with fascination as a plant that very much looked to be dead was suddenly green and offering six fresh strawberries the size of a golf ball. Percy was so distracted that he didn’t notice when Mr. D stopped and walked right into him.

Percy stumbled backwards, and Mr. D let out a loud, disappointed sighed. Percy looked down, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Young man, I have a question for you.” Mr. D waved his hand, and Percy watched with amazement as several strawberry plants doubled, then quadrupled, and continued to grow in side until Mr. D was sitting on a throne of strawberry vines. “And I have no intentions of answering any idiotic questions that could be resolved by asking your satyr companion.”

Percy nodded, still in awe of the plant growth. It reminded him of a video he once saw of Poison Ivy making a table out of a bush.

“Good. I hope you managed to remember what I told you about names, correct?” Mr. D asked.

“Yes, you said that they have power.”

“Then you should not question me when I tell you mine.” Mr. D leaned back on his throne. “I am Dionysus.”

Percy was confused, and it would have been easy to doubt it, but something in the way that Mr. D–Dionysus had said, it made Percy believe him. Somehow, for some reason, Percy was talking to an actual Greek god.

That wasn’t something that Percy had ever expected to happen to him, but there he was.

“I am most commonly known as the god of wine. But lesser known, I am also the god of insanity and mental illness.” Dionysus leaned forward. “Do you know why we are having this conversation?”

Percy shook his head, but then stopped, a thought dawning in his head. “Is it because of all my hallucinations?"

Dionysus’ expression soured like someone had given him lemon juice to drink instead of water. “That is exactly what the problem is.”

Percy couldn’t tell if he should be horrified or relieved that Mr. D had noticed right away that his mind was completely messed up. At the very least, Percy knew now that someone knew his secret, even if it was the off brand grape themed penguin.

Mr. D frowned even deeper. “I am wholly and absolutely offended that you seemed to be completely convinced, and therefore delusional, that you have any amount of true madness.”

Percy’s train of thought came to a skidding halt. “What did you say?”

“That you,” Mr. D said, “are completely convinced you are somehow insane and I find it deeply offending. I recognize from the marks in your mind that this wasn’t done by you, but I insist you cut it out.”

“You want me to… stop being insane?” Percy asked.

“No! If you were insane, that would be perfectly fine, but you are not insane and are therefore completely delusional. I am offended that anyone could fail to recognize what real insanity looks like.”

Percy repeated Mr. D’s words in his head three times before he understood what he was saying. And even then, he was still confused.

“You’re saying that I am not insane, and I need to stop thinking I am because you find it insulting?” Percy asked.

“Exactly. What is so hard to understand about that?” Mr. D asked exasperated.

“Well, because I’ve been seeing things that no one else sees my whole life.” Percy countered.

Mr. D waved his hand dismissively. “The Mist.”

“The… what now?”

“The mist. It blinds the eyes of mortals so they cannot see the mythical world. If you have been seeing things that no one else can, it is because they are hidden by the mist. Hidden, but completely real.”

Percy blinked.

“So I’m not crazy.”

Mr. D sighed, finally smiling just slightly. “Correct. You, Percy Jackson, are not crazy.”

“You said that names have power.” Percy’s voice was wobbly.

“Well then, you should understand the authority I just invoked.” Mr. D smirked.

Percy felt a crash of relief that he had never expected to feel. His knees buckled beneath him but he barely noticed when he hit the dirt. It was too sudden a revelation to cry in relief, just a complete wash as the tension of a secret that was never real left his body all at once. Percy felt a hand on his shoulder and all the dizziness and confusion left his mind at once.

“This is why I hate the interweb.” Mr. D sighed. “Everyone thinks they know what they are talking about, and it can lead to very annoying messes.”

Percy couldn’t help but start laughing. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. With the sudden clarity that Mr. D had given him, Gabe’s words that had been so haunting seemed entirely ridiculous. The fact that Percy believed him for so long was ridiculous. It was all so completely silly that once he started, he couldn’t stop until he was wheezing from lack of air.

Once he caught his breath, he looked up at Mr. D and said, “Thank you. I… I needed to hear that.”

Mr. D rolled his eyes. “This was not an act of pity. I simply did it because I cannot have some imposter claiming to be insane.” He waved his hand dismissively in Percy’s direction. “Now run along Petter Johansen, I’m sure there are other pointless things that you need to be told, and I could care less what you learn.”

Percy stood and dusted himself off. “Yeah. Thank’s again Mr. D. I’ll be sure to learn how to play pinochle as soon as I can.”

Mr. D didn’t respond, and when he turned around, he was gone. Percy glanced around, but the only person he could see was Grover jogging towards him. Percy started walking in his direction, still a little shell shocked.

Grover was out of breath by the time they got close enough to talk. He turned Percy towards the big house where he had come from, leading him forward.

“What did Mr. D want to talk to you about?” Grover asked.

Percy smiled and shrugged. “Apparently I was annoying him and he told me to knock it off.”

Grover’s face paled. “And you didn’t get turned into a dolphin?”

“What?! He can do that?”

Grover nodded solemnly.

“Huh.” Percy paused. “Honestly, not the worst fate ever. Dolphins are pretty cool.”

Grover gave Percy the most exasperated look Percy had ever seen on Grover’s face, and Percy wrapped one arm around his friend and pointed to the big house. “Lead on, goat man!”

[Major Divergence Ends]

__________________________________________________________

Once Percy managed to get over the fact that the gods were real and hanging out in New York, and that his latin teacher was an immortal hero training horse, the rest of the tour was pretty nice. He was still worried about Grover, but there wasn’t much Percy could do for him at the moment other than wish him luck.

Percy got handed off to Annabeth, who still looked at him like he held the answers to all the mysteries in the world. At least, she did, until she realized that he had no clue what was going on. Then he blew up the bathroom and he got demoted from clueless to full on annoyance.

Word of the bathroom incident spread through the camp faster than Annabeth could finish Percy’s tour. By the time they got to the canoeing lake, Annabeth was wet and grumpy and Percy was incredibly embarrassed.

“I’ve got training to do,” Annabeth said flatly. “Dinner’s at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall.”

“Annabeth, I'm really, really, sorry about the toilets.”

“Whatever, just go back to your cabin.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

Annabeth gave Percy a look that ‘do you think I’m stupid’, and it was so convincing that Percy had to think back to make sure he hadn’t somehow tampered with the pipes. He hadn’t touched the toilets, that much was true, but he had… done something. It was similar to the time with Nancy and the sprinklers, or the time with the fountains. Somehow, he had done something to become one with the plumbing.

“You need to talk to the Oracle. I’ll ask Chiron.” Annabeth spoke with such authority that Percy didn’t dare ask another ‘stupid’ question about something he had never heard of. Instead, he chose to stare into the lake.

Which was a mistake, because there were apparently lake people who would stare back at you. One of the girls waved. Percy waved back. Annabeth got annoyed.

“Don’t encourage them.” Annabeth warned. “Naiads are horrible flirts.”

“Naiads,” Percy repeated, feeling completely out of his depth. “Yep. That’s it, I want to go home now. This was easier when I thought I was crazy.”

Annabeth frowned, with more confusion than exasperation that usual, which was an improvement in Percy’s eyes. “Don’t you get it, Percy? This is home. Camp is the only safe place in the world for demigods.”

Percy felt a new lump in his throat. “Demi-gods?”

Annabeth nodded. “Your father isn’t dead Percy.”

Percy shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Last I checked he was supposed to be on vacation in France.”

Annabeth stared at Percy, and he swore he could see one of her eyes twitching. She muttered a few words under her breath in Greek that Percy somehow recognized as a curse.

“I can’t believe I wasted my time on…” Annabeth sighed. “Fine. Your mother isn’t dead.”

Percy gave her an innocent, confused look. “Yes she is. My stepfather killed her in our apartment when I was a kid.”

Annabeth stared at him, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. Eventually, exasperation won out and continued.

“You’re a demigod just like the rest of us, meaning that one of your biological parents, could be either, is a god. Makes sense?”

Percy's smile faltered, as he thought about what she was saying. His biological father was an actual god? How was that supposed to make sense?

“You’re joking.”

“Am I? The Greek gods are constantly having mortal children in the old stories. Do you really think they’ve changed their habits in the last few millenia?”

“But if all the kids here are half-god–”

“Demigods.” Annabeth said. “Or half-bloods.”

“Then who’s your divine parent?”

“Cabin six.” She said in a matter of fact voice.

Percy groaned internally. Would it kill these people to make things easy to understand? “Meaning?”

“Athena.” Annabeth straightened. “Goddes of wisdom and battle.”

“And my parent?”

“Undetermined,” Annabeth sighed. “Nobody knows.”

Percy wanted to be upset, but he honestly couldn’t manage it. In his mind, his biological father had been a nameless, deadbeat, disappearance his whole life. If he couldn’t show up for his kid when they were trapped in an apartment with their mother’s murderer, why show up at all?

“But…” Annabeth gave a cautious look. “they may send you a sign. That’s the only way to know for sure: your parent has to send a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes it happens.”

Percy gave a weak laugh. “And sometimes it doesn’t.”

Annabeth gave Percy a pitying look. “The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and they don’t always… Well, sometimes they don’t care, Percy. They ignore us.”

Percy fell silent. The image of the overcrowded cabin eleven popped into Percy’s mind. A bunch of kids with sullen faces, waiting around for a call that may never come from a parent who forgot about them. He had seen more hopeful kids living in Crime Alley because their regular mortal parents kicked them out. But gods? Gods should behave better.

Percy felt a pang of anger that he didn’t know what to do with, so he changed the subject. “You said that this is the only safe place for demigods. Does that mean I’m stuck here? For the rest of my life?”

“Depends.” Annabeth said. “Some campers only stay for the summer. If you’re a child of a less prominent god, the monsters might ignore you. You could survive with just the few months of training you get at camp during the summer and live in the mortal world the rest of the time. But for some of us, it’s too dangerous to leave. In the mortal world, we attract monsters. The sense us, they come to challenge us.”

Percy thought of all the times he saw hulking figures in the alley below his window. The huge looking dogs that would occasionally appear on the manor grounds. The strange boy at Greentree.

Monsters. Probably looking for him. If he had been attracting monsters for that long… his chances of being safe to leave camp were looking less and less attractive.

But he also couldn’t stay here forever. Sure he was fine for the summer, he still wasn’t sure how much he could tell his dad, but once fall came around, he needed to be back home. His family was expecting him, and he couldn’t accept never seeing them again.

“So, you’re a year rounder? Do you ever see your family?” Percy asked.

Annabeth’s hands tightened around the pier railing as she stared into the water. “My dad’s a professor at West Point. I haven’t seen him since I was really little. I’ve been at camp since I was seven.”

Percy knew that voice. It was the same voice Tim would use when talking about his dad, or when Jason talked about his mom. A kind of… tired anger.

Annabetth pulled out a leather necklace with five clay beads. “Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I’ve been here longer than most of the counselors, and they’re all in college.”

Surviving. That’s what they celebrated here. Surviving another year. Five years isn’t a long time for someone to attend a camp, and if Annabeth had survived longer than most of the counselors… Percy suddenly understood why Chiron said his job was sad.

Percy shook his head, reminding himself to stay focused. “So, do year rounders ever leave camp?”

“It would be possible, with Mr. D’s or Chiron’s permission, but they won’t give permission until the end of the summer session unless…” Annabeth paused.

“Unless?”

“Unless you were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens, so don’t get your hopes up.” Annabeth seemed genuinely frustrated at her own declaration. Maybe it was because she was reminding herself not to get her hopes up.

Percy figured hope must be a pretty rare commodity at Camp Half-Blood.

Notes:

This ends the dramatic changes from TLT! From this point forward, Percy’s first quest actually goes somewhat as it does in the original. After reviewing the books, I discovered that Percy went on the quest because the world would end if he didn’t, and less about his mom, at least at first, so there weren’t any major adaptations that needed to happen! If you are really curious what happens next, go read the book 🙂

There are a couple other important things that are different, but unfortunately for me, they are scattered through 10 more books that I do not have time to break down and find exact scenes, to then adapt, and mark all of them. There are only two more interludes, and both of them are very important to answering the questions of “Why/when did Percy disappear?” and “Why hasn’t he contacted/visited his family?” So, here’s a VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION: What things haven’t I explained that you really want to know about?

IMPORTANT: I know that there are a couple of things that I implied in this chapter that you may have missed but will be very important going forward.
1. Percy was known by Chiron and Grover as only Percy Jackson, and that was the name given to Dionysus, and the name that Percy uses at camp going forward. He has denied any resemblance with the famous enigma Percy Wayne.
2. Most people at camp don’t know anything about Percy’s home situation, and can only go off of the few cryptic things he mentions at random.
3. Percy’s relationship with Poseidon will be a little bit more complicated than it was in the original, and he is gonna need to work through some of those feelings in the “real time” chapters to come.

Additional Funnies:

Luke: Why don’t you try to steal Conner’s watch? I’m curious about something.
Percy, confused but sure Luke has a point: Sure… lemme just…
Percy: *Proceeds to walk over to Conner, but never visibly touches his arm.*
Luke, teasing: Couldn’t get it off him?
Percy: What? No. *Lifts up watch*
Luke, shook: Huh. That's... pretty impressive Percy.
Percy: It really isn’t. Most kids in Criiii--I mean, where I’m from learn to lift a watch or a wallet.
Luke, mildly concerned: Where exactly are you from, Percy?
Percy, panicking: …Metropolis?

At some point after Book 2:
Daughter of Aphrodite 1: Doesn't he look just like him?
Daughter of Aphrodite 2: I mean… kinda.
Annabeth: What are you guys talking about?
Daughter of Aphrodite 1: Percy kinda looks like the third Wayne son, right?
Annabeth, who has debated with Percy where the best places to sleep on the streets are three different times: Nope. Nope. Percy is not rich. I refuse to believe that.