Chapter Text
The last place Dick Grayson wants to be was at a Wayne gala, yet here he is, standing stock-still at the entrance. It’s stupid of him to be scared, right? He can handle the women and rich board members eager to speak with ‘Richie Wayne’, but when his eyes land on Bruce his heart speeds up.
The last time he was home in Gotham they’d argued, just like the time before and the time before that, and the time before… Well, you get it. But the thing was, so far, Dick hasn’t met Percy. Or even been in the same room as him. Whenever he swings by Gotham to check on Babs, or Alfie, or Jason, who he couldn’t force himself to hate no matter how hard he tried, Percy would suddenly have something to do. Whether that be going to bed early, swimming, or practicing his languages, he was occupied.
Dick isn’t stupid, and he knows Percy isn’t either. Bruce obviously is trying to manipulate the situation, moving his pawns this way and that way on the board. To be fair, a gala isn’t a terrible place for Dick to meet Percy. It’s public so they wouldn’t make a scene, and there was a certain air of professionalism that came with the events. But it’s also incredibly impersonal. If Dick know Bruce as well as he thinks he does, he chose the gala for fear of a spectacle.
And, okay, Dick hasn’t been the nicest person but he tried (sort of) to take him under his wing. It’s just hard to see another kid in the same spot he was half a decade ago; young and malleable, able to be sculpted into a child soldier to be cast aside once they become too independent. It hurts Dick a bit that Bruce thought he’d stoop so low as to insult a nine year old boy fresh out of a homeless shelter.
But of course, what does Bruce truly know about him?
Everything, his mind whispers. Begrudgingly, Dick agrees with it. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t somewhat glad Bruce had kept him and Percy apart.
He’d seen the interview when it came out. At the time, he hadn’t though much of it- a little kid roasting Brucie, something to be forgotten in a few weeks. But then the news broke, and Dick was angry. What is it that Jason and this kid have that he doesn’t? What makes them worthy of an early adoption, when he was a ward for years? Bruce didn’t even sign the papers until after Dick was fired, as some far-fetched strategy to win him back.
That fact, that he hadn’t been considered a son until he had left Gotham and the other boys had been, is inescapable.
Now, as he steps into the massive ballroom and gets closer and closer to Bruce, he realizes something.
Where the fuck are they? He wonders, scanning for the boys. Dick narrowly avoids a pack of young women as he heads towards the refreshments. At parties, ninety percent of the time the kids are lurking by the food.
Aha! There they were, shuffling toward the dessert table and a little girl wearing a frankly hideous dress. Dick slows his pace a bit, deciding to hang by the savory snacks and observe the new Wayne before approaching.
Jesus, I sound like Bruce.
Now that Dick is close enough to see really him, it confirms what he was dreading.
Looking at Percy Jackson-Wayne is like looking in a funhouse mirror of his younger self. His dimples are the same, his smile lopsided and straight. His hair falls in the same curls Dick once had, so black they’re almost blue. Percy’s skin, too, is that same light bronze of ambiguity; for Dick it was a sign of his Romani heritage, for Percy it could be anything. The sun, maybe, but given Gotham’s perpetual gloom, he’d doubt it. In fact, Percy’s skin almost seem to glow.
Seeing Percy up close and much cleaner and more put together than in the viral video, has sent Dick’s heart rate rising and face red.
It’s not him, he reasons, it’s not Percy’s fault. It’s Bruce, for trying to replace me over and over.
Because that’s what this has to be right? Another replacement? Except this time he wasn’t just getting a new costumed sidekick, he was picking a better version of him. Kinder. More cooperative. Easier to manage.
The one thing, however, that throws a wrench in Dick’s theory is his eyes. Percy’s eyes are green. Or, greenish. When Dick sees them, he’s reminded of the sea. Cool, rolling waves, gently lapping at the shore, loyal and timeless. The push and pull is oddly comforting.
It’s okay, his eyes seem to say. You can tell me anything.
Dick drags his gaze from his face to his suit. Something about those eyes makes him uneasy oddly loose, and the last thing he needs is to lose his observance. The dark suit and little tie, a blue, are another knife to the heart. Blue is Dick’s favorite color, so he’s memorized every hue he can. The blue tied around Percy’s neck is the same color as Bruce’s eyes. To Dick, it looks less like an expensive accessory and more like a noose.
Another doll for Bruce to play with. Another son to discard.
Dick sneaks a glance at Jason at this thought, and, surprisingly, meets sky blue. His replacement turns to his little brother with a tense smile and a painfully awkward laugh.
“I’m gonna go check on B. Um, keep talking.” He ruffles Percy’s hair and then shuffles back, before making a beeline towards Dick. “What are you doing here?” He asks once he’s close enough; there’s something in his voice, hope maybe. Worship. He’s gotten taller, but he’s still so little to Dick.
“B invited me. I have to go to these things. Keep up appearances and all that.” The answer deflates Jason. Dick tells himself that it’s okay that he’s pushing him away. I wanted to see if I could actually be a brother for once would be dumb to say anyway. It doesn’t make the distance any easier. It still hurts. For both of them.
“I’m gonna see if I can tell Bruce that Percy’s got a new chaperone.” Jason says before speed walking away, hand brushing the pocket of his suit jacket that had a slight rise. Cigarettes.
“Wait, I didn’t-” Dick starts, before realizing it’s of no use. “Fuck.”
He steps closer to the dessert table, finding Percy and Rachel selecting plates and piling them with sweets. It’s such a kid thing to do. Dick’s heart aches a little, seeing him like that. A kid that Bruce was training to fight. A dog being fitted for a leash.
Dick keeps an eye on Percy as he chats with an heiress by the punch, trying to stomp out the guilt he feels.
I shouldn’t be mad at him. I shouldn’t.
Seeing Dick Grayson in person is like seeing a ghost in a house you were told is haunted. Sure, Percy knew he would be here, but it doesn’t make it any less scary.
He’s really tall. Not as tall as Bruce, but still. Tall. His hair is shiny.
“Why does your face look like that? It’s just your brother.” Rachel asks, bending down to pick up the spilled petit fours. Did Dick just look at him? He did, right?
Percy squats down to help Rachel picking at an iced baked good that was murdered by his dress shoes. It really does not want to part with the ballroom floor.
“He’s not my brother. Well, he is, legally. We don’t like him.”
“We don’t?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, then we don’t like him.” Percy feels himself smile.
“Just like that? You don’t like him because I don’t?”
“Yeah, dummy. That’s how friends work.” Rachel says it likes it’s easy. Percy doesn’t know if he’s had a real friend before. Ivy maybe, but she was more like a cool babysitter, or a detached aunt. And Jason was his brother, full stop.
“…”
“Why do we hate him, though?”
“He’s a dick.”
“Dick’s a dick?”
“Yup. He’s mean to Jason.” Percy stands, the corpse of a perfectly good treat in his hand. “Jason doesn’t say he is, but whenever he’s home he gets all sad and starts reading The Brothers Karamazov.”
Rachel dumps the dropped food in a ridiculously nice trash can and meets Percy’s eyes. Hers are emerald green, a bright color not too different from Ms. Ivy’s. She looks a little sad, and like she wants to say something, but Dick’s arrival stops her.
Because suddenly, there he is. Not four feet away, not a floor below. Here. In front of Percy. For a moment, he can see why Jason idolizes him. He’s perfect and scary all at once.
“Perce!” He exclaims, every bit the charming Wayne heir he’s said to be. He gently places his hand on Percy’s shoulder like it’s the most normal thing in the world, like he knows him. But he doesn’t. He’s never even met him and because of this stupid publicity stuff, he has to act like he does. It’s sickening, and Percy hates him a little. “Whose your friend?”
“Rachel Elizabeth Dare.” The redhead says, eyes shrunk into slits and arms crossed over her garish dress.
“Well, I’m very glad to meet you.” He smiles wide, like a prince. Or a beast. Take your pick. “Do you mind if I borrow my little brother for a second?” Rachel shakes her head no, but she seems hesitant. “Great!”
In a rush, he steers Percy away from the tables and into the hallway. It happens so quickly. One moment he’s safe, and the next he’s in a too-quiet hallway next to a fancy plant.
“Hey, sorry about that.” Dick says, and his smile is closed and softer. Real, maybe. “I just…I want to talk to you somewhere else than the manor or a stuffy room full of rich people.”
What is he playing at?
Percy swallows. He squares his shoulders and swallows his fear, telling himself it’s not the original Robin, and instead a stuck up brother who thinks he’s too good for his family.
“Look, man,” Percy attempts to silence the tremble in his voice, “I don’t like you very much.”
”What?” Dick asks, stunned. His eyes are open comically wide.
”You’re mean. To Jason. He’s so nice and he tries so hard to make you happy and all you do is ignore him.” This doesn’t seem to be what Dick was expecting, but he recovers quickly.
”I’m trying. I-I know I’m not doing a very good job, but there’s a reason I’m pushing him away. It shouldn’t have been Bruce’s decision to put him in that suit. And-“
”Do you realize how stupid you sound? I can’t believe I’m nine and have more sense than you. Jason was offered food, shelter, love and a warm bed and you expected him to turn that away? He wants to help people. It’s what he does. And Robin is a way for him to do that. He didn’t pick the name, or the colors. And that shouldn’t matter. He’s a great Robin. And you’re a total asshole, man.”
”…”
”Why did you drag me out here?”
“To talk. I’m, fuck, I’m sorry, Percy.”
”Sorry doesn’t mean anything if you don’t do anything to back it up.”
Dick is silent for a while. He runs his hand through his hair. He looks like he wants to scream. He stops all of a sudden and sighs.
“Can we start over?” He asks, voice small. His hair isn’t perfect anymore because he’s raked his hands through it so harshly.
”Okay.” Percy isn’t sure if he should be doing this, but he does. It’s what his mom would do. Despite not being religious, she was dedicated to forgiveness. More than she needed to be, sometimes. “My name is Perseus, but please call me Percy.”
He reaches his hand out. Dick takes it.
”I’m Dick.” His hand is calloused and firm. Tanned, too, like Percy’s. “I’m gonna be your cool older brother.”
Percy gives an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head and dropping Dick’s hand.
”Sorry, man, I already have one. You can be the mildly interesting brother.”
”I’ll take it,” he says, and it almost sounds like he’s going to cry. “Say, little brother, what do you like to do?”
”Swim. Draw. I’m learning Spanish and French. I’m trying to get good at backflips, too.”
Dick brightens. “I can teach you, if you want.”
Gymnastics lessons? From Nightwing? Holy shit!
”That would be cool. Start tomorrow?”
”Tomorrow isn’t really-“ Dick notes Percy’s raised eyebrow. “Yeah, kid, tomorrow.”
The lessons don’t happen the next day. When Batman gets back from patrol after the gala, he doesn’t know Percy is sketching the bats. Nightwing doesn’t either. They yell, a lot.
At one point, Percy hears Dick say; “So what? You’re just picking up orphans left and right to indoctrinate?” Percy isn’t sure what that last word means, but he can put the sentence together. Dick thinks I’m a charity case.
Percy stands up and leaves. They don’t notice until the door slams, too caught up in their anger. Even though he’s upstairs, Percy can still hear the yelling. Except now, instead of Nightwing and Batman, it’s Smelly Gabe.
He feels immature and stupid for it, but he sleeps in Jason’s room that night. He falls asleep to the scrape of his brother’s voice reading Lemony Snicket and curls in on himself.
Percy has one brother. For right now, that’s all he needs.