Chapter Text
Seeing Jason again was like breathing for the first time in five years.
Physically seeing him was different than meticulously studying news reports. Ink pages couldn’t capture the scars barely visible across his hands and face, or the unnaturally toxic green shade of his eyes. It also couldn’t replicate the steady beat of his heart.
That was real, honest proof that Jason was alive. Alive and staring at him like he was about to have a heart attack. Or attack Percy. Either way, he was alive…
When they hugged, it was as if they were two halves coming together to make a whole. Puzzle pieces slotting into place. In comparison to now, the past few years felt almost hollow. He’d started to forget just how close he and Jason actually were.
His relief was difficult to describe, this euphoric feeling that went to the extent he was feeling almost lightheaded. Any moment, he expected to awaken as if this was all a dream. If it was, Hypnos was going to get a very unhappy visitor.
When he pulled back he could see that Dick was right, Jason was different now. As a kid, he’d always been kind of lanky and awkward. The Jason standing in front of him was tall, muscular and ready to whip out the gun that was not so subtly hidden in his jacket.
He was tall, six feet or so, with wild black hair that was slightly less curled than his own. A white streak broke apart the dark strands, vibrant and stark. Not dissimilar to Bruce, he had a squared jaw and defined cheek bones. Scars littered his arms and face, continuing until his clothes hid them. His hands had similar ones, though those were from handling blades. He wore a leather jacket that was worn from use and a band shirt with jeans, quite different from his previous style.
There were still hints of his younger self in his face, just as there were for Percy, but if you hadn’t known him, the connection would be difficult to make. However, Jason was his brother, so he found all the little quirks of his features he remembered from childhood immediately.
Although it was nice to see, he wouldn’t have cared if Jay was entirely unrecognisable. He could have punched and kicked and shot Percy, and he still would have stayed. There was very little he wouldn’t do for him.
Swallowing down the questions attempting to burst from his throat, he answered Jason’s incredulous, ‘is that my fucking hoodie?’, with a half hidden grin.
“No, it’s mine.” he lied, feeling for a moment that they were children again. He hadn’t felt like that in a long, long time.
“I’ve been looking for that, you little shit!” Jason said, exasperated but fond, “Literally since before I-”
And suddenly, he was slammed back into the reality that his brother had actually died.
His brother faltered momentarily, visibly recalling the fact that Percy wasn’t supposed to know that he was dead. A spark of old anger flickered in his chest. Slightly surprising, to be honest. For a while, he was angry that Jason had lied to him, yeah. Time had worn him down, or so he thought.
He ignored it. Now was hardly the time. Percy had to figure out how to deal with this. Lying was a possibility, of course. It was the easier way out.
However, he wanted Jason to be able to trust him and he was already keeping so much from his brother; the gods, the monsters, practically his entire life would have to be hidden. Was this how it felt having an alter ego? Because if so, it sucked.
Was telling Jason the best option? It would open up a whole other line of very important communication, right?
“I know.” he said softly.
Jason’s face was a mask of false confusion, but it was Dick that completed the performance in this forced fake sweet tone that made his teeth ache, "Know what, Percy?”
Swallowing down his frustration, he elaborated, “Your little night time secret. Don’t make me spell it out.”
“We have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tim responded from where he was lounging beside Stephanie on the couch. The weight of his gaze was easy to feel on Percy's back.
Comparatively, Babs’ face was pale, as if she was one of Hades’ shades, with a breath she managed to quietly say, “Percy.”
He gave her what he hoped was a comforting look, “Figured it out while I was away. If I wasn’t so stupid as a kid, I would’ve figured it out a lot sooner, really.”
That was all too true.
“Figured out what?” Damian snapped and if he were anyone else, he would assume it was frustration at the fact he was hedging around the topic. Percy was not just anyone, and therefore heard what Damian didn’t want him to hear, the fear.
Percy let out a breath, then took in another deeper breath to prepare himself for the onslaught of questioning, “Do I really have to-? You know what, fine.”
He fully turned towards Dick, resisting the urge to point an accusing finger at him, “You’re Nightwing, but you were the first Robin. Jason is Red Hood, the second Robin. Tim is the third Robin and Red Robin. Stephanie was the fourth, and also Spoiler. Damian is the fifth Robin as of current. Babs was Bat-Girl, but now she’s Oracle. Cassandra is Orphan, but she was also Batgirl for a while. Duke is Signal. I guess he doesn’t count for the whole night time schtick because he patrols more in the daytime…”
Almost comically, Dick’s jaw dropped, proceeding to open and close like a fish out of water.
There was a silence that followed, a quiet sort of realisation.
“There isn’t any point in denying it.” Percy added, just to be sure, “I’ve known for years.”
“I…” Dick’s rough voice trailed, “How?”
“Grayson!” Damian hissed, upset that he brother had stopped denying entirely.
For now, Percy ignored him, “Little bits you and Jay let slip over the years, stuff you couldn’t hide, bruises, newspaper reports…”
“Newspaper reports?” Tim sat up, coming into his periphery.
“Nothing that the public would notice,” Percy reassured, “Just bits and pieces of interview and faces I could pick apart because I knew you guys, or I knew Bruce’s and Dick’s faces, so I knew yours.”
A complicated look that Percy couldn’t hope to decipher crossed Tim’s face, somewhat… hurt? It was gone in just a moment, so fast Percy almost thought it was never there in the first place.
“I figured out Dick first, then Bruce, and then everyone else unraveled afterwards. The only ones I couldn’t figure out were people not connected to the family, or who I hadn’t met. Oh, and the whole Red Hood thing, I figured that out after the announcement in the news. I’d already seen bits and pieces that sort of reminded me of Jay but…”
“You saw his body.” Babs filled in quietly.
Jason’s head snapped around–it was the most emotion he’d shown in a few minutes, “What?”
“I went to your funeral, man. I demanded it was an open casket, otherwise I wouldn’t believe it.” Percy admitted.
Jason paused, “Why would you…?”
Uncomfortably, Percy responded, “It was sudden–I didn’t know about you being Robbin. My brain couldn’t process it.”
Partially due to the ADHD, he knew. Seeing something was often easier than hearing it–for this it had been much the same. Jason’s death didn’t hit him fully until he saw the body.
“We’re getting distracted.” Dick cut in, not harsh, but… unnerved.
Percy shrugged at him, “I haven’t got much more to say, dude. I know you guys are vigilantes. I haven’t told anybody, obviously. I wouldn’t ever tell anybody. That’s all we need to discuss.”
Several incredulous stares bore into him.
Percy sighed.
Someone moved up the hall–Alfred based on the steps and feeling–pausing to gently knock on the door. It creaked as it opened, spilling the white light of the hall into the yellowed light of the room.
“Perhaps this would be best discussed over dinner.” Alfred offered, and Percy could hardly refuse when he smelled the mouth watering scent of Alfred’s cooking. What could he say? He was a weak, weak man…
Without looking behind him, he grabbed Jason’s hand–ignoring his grunt of protest–and dragged them down the hall. When he had an appetite, he made sure to eat. Will would send him to Hade’s if he didn’t. He’d always been so much like Lee.
Jason suddenly let out a small gasping sound that had Percy’s head snapping around, until he realised it was just laughter bubbling up in his throat.
“Only you would pull some shit like that.” Jason wheezed, practically doubling over. Percy was mildly concerned for his sanity.
Eh, laughter wasn’t the worst way for a brain to break.
“I don’t know what you mean, man.” Percy said innocently. Warmth filled his chest at the genuine joy Jason was showing. Honestly, he’d expected a lot more fight than this. Obviously, it wouldn’t have mattered if there was–he was very prepared for Jay to tell him to fuck off. This was all going surprisingly smoothly.
Too smoothly…
No… that was the paranoia talking. And the trauma. Since the wars, Percy had a hard time trusting anything too good. In his experience, happiness rarely lasted with the universe throwing out some crazy awful thing to trip him up. Oftentimes, literally.
Jason gripped his bicep, “This is insane. I think I might actually owe Dick an apology.”
“You’re going to willingly say sorry to Dick?” Percy asked incredulously, “Are you a clone or something?”
Jason scoffed, “Fuck no. I just owe him one for not taking him seriously when he said that me coming back from the dead was crazy.”
Alongside a comforting pat on the back, Percy said, “We’re in the same boat, apparently. I’m pretty sure Dick’s gonna need to invest in more hair dye to hide those old man grey hairs because of the stress he’s dealt with between us.”
“I’m convinced he pays paparazzi so that they dump any photos where his grey shows.” Jason whispered conspiratorially with a growing grin.
They walked together in quiet contentment and for just a moment, everything felt right again.
“You don’t care?” Jason asked quietly, flickering to meet his gaze and then glancing away. Other than that, his face was neutral as if he wasn’t asking something very obviously vulnerable. What he was asking exactly, Percy didn’t know.
Okay, peace over then.
“Don’t care about what?”
Jason gave him a look, “You know what.”
“Uh, no, I really don’t.” Percy retorted as they turned into the dining room. There were several more chairs than when he was a child, and the floors and walls were redone in friendlier shades.
“About… you know, the Red Hood thing?” Jason grumbled, very obviously annoyed that he was being emotional.
Percy resisted the urge to admit that he had done a lot worse. Many, many people had died because of him. Friends had died because of him. There was Michael on the bridge, Leo before his brought back, Jason Grace–
Plus, of course, the hundreds of monsters he’d killed–the Joker included, that clown asshole didn’t deserve basic human respect. Though that was pretty different, he supposed.
“Nah, Jay. You know I've never been as uptight as Bruce.” Percy shrugged, “I mean, half the guys probably deserve it and Gotham has issues with its justice system–I don’t need to tell you that. Half of them get back on the streets and commit the same awful crimes. I’d rather you didn’t kill them but I can understand why you would. It’s frustrating.”
Jason gave a choked sort of laugh, “Of course.”
“What?”
Jason shook his head, “I knew you’d understand.”
There must be some significance to that, one that Percy doesn’t understand. The way he killed wasn’t consistent with that of a guilty killer–maybe Jason was just afraid of what he would think? That was stupid if it was true.
“I love you unconditionally, man. There’s nothing you could do that would push me away.” Percy reassured for good measure, slapping Jason on the back. Too much emotion for his brother in too quick a time, he needed to counteract with an act of ‘masculinity’ to balance things out.
Jason opened his mouth to say something when the others came trailing in like little ducklings as they followed Dick. Best not to voice that thought–Damian would definitely stab him if he did.
Was it worth saying anyway…?
“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t say it.” Dick ordered, unamused. The discussion they had presumably had while he was gone seemed to have relaxed him quite a bit.
Percy scowled at his older brotherly tone, “Don’t do your thing on me.”
“Thing? That sounds like a euphemism for–” Dick began.
Alfred interrupted sharply, “Boys, dinner is ready.”
Right, the children.
Oops?
Jason chuckled as he guided Percy to a seat beside him. Holy shit, they’d gotten much better seats. These were comfy. Where the hell were they when he was a kid–
“Oh my gods.” he gasped.
Alfred’s food was more divine than any god he’d ever met. Just the smell was enough to feed him for the rest of his life, but the sight…
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, Master Percy.” Alfred said in good humour.
Percy nodded vigorously, slapping Jason’s hand away to reach for the spoon.
“Hey!”
Ignoring him, Percy plated up some lasagna and garlic bread. Now wasn’t the time for games Jason. This was serious shit.
He took a bite of the delicious food and nearly passed out from excitement, “Oh my fucking gods…”
Dick was snickering across the table–at him or with him he wasn’t sure. From across the table, Percy could hear the distaste filled mutter Damian made under his breath, but chose, for once in his life, to ignore it. Some stuck up kid he’d only just met wouldn’t get under his skin, he’d heard so much worse.
Everything went quiet for a moment, whether it was apprehension to talk to him or because they were eating, Percy didn’t care. Then, Dick–because of course it was Dick–spoke up, “So–”
Percy groaned, “Can I not eat in peace?”
“Not after you tell us that you know we’re vigilantes, no.” Tim said dryly, “Or after returning for the first time in years.”
“I’m not going to snitch.” Percy repeated, tapping his fork against the china to emphasize his point.
Tim didn’t seem convinced, “We can’t know that.”
“Okay, say for a second that I actually did tell the public or the police, I hardly doubt it would matter. I mean, this is Bruce we’re talking about. He has to have several plans to deal with that scenario. Hell, he'd probably manage to stop me before I even started to leak your identities.” Percy comforted, raising his brows at him, because wasn’t that obvious? Bruce was a paranoid bastard, he had to have plans to sort that shit.
Tim seemed surprised by his response–why, Percy didn’t know. The guy apparently had some false image of him in his head, though he supposed that was fair. If Bruce was his main source of information it was bound to be wrong–or, more likely, if it was from newspaper clippings, it would be almost the polar opposite of him.
“I guess.” Tim muttered, eyes darting to Dick.
In return, Dick gave him an ‘I told you so’ look, “We know you aren’t going to Percy, but it's just…”
“A big deal?”
“A big deal.” Dick nodded, giving him a smile, “Do you have any questions?”
“Maybe, I can't think of any right now.” Percy answered around a mouth of food.
Damian scowled at him, forcing Percy not to laugh out of fear of choking.
“Then, you won’t mind answering my questions.” came a voice from the doorway, low, cool and familiar in a way that made Percy tense, “Hello, Percy.”