Chapter Text
When Nico came to camp half-blood with Percy and Bianca, he was not well received. The 8 year old son of Hades was a mystery to everyone. At first, an uncontrollable ball of energy and happiness, almost bouncing off the walls, later a silent and brooding kid who never fit in.
After Bianca’s death, Nico runs away to the underworld. But the land of the dead is no place for a young boy to live, even the son of a god. So Hades sends Nico to the surface, where he can eat and see the sun, where he stays in one of his father’s mansions.
Nico lived alone, for the most part, Alecto visiting monthly with food. Nobody questioned the young boy who lived alone in the large desolate house. It wasn't uncommon for the rich to ignore their kids, to spoil them rotten but never be around. But Nico didn’t want to be alone.
Despite everything, he still yearned for a family. He wanted to be a part of something. He wanted to prove that he was good enough to fill Bianca’s name. That’s when he became Timothy Drake, son of Jack and Jannet Drake. He silently watched as Batman took up Jason Todd, then as he lost him to the Joker.
Fearing the death of his son was destroying Batman, Tim approached Dick and Bruce in the hopes of comforting them, and maybe filling the gap in his life. The bleeding hole left by the death of his mother and sister and the absence of a father, and in return, maybe he could be Dick’s brother. Maybe.
To his surprise, they didn’t just accept him. When his parents ‘died’, they adopted him. Took him in and trained him to become the next robin.
Nico could fight with a sword- he was skilled and practised. But he had no training in hand to hand combat. He always held back his demigod powers, never used his full strength, and yet he made a difference. He could fight, and he could protect people. And when Bruce turned the other way, when Nightwing was busy, he could help the demigods too.
Both Dick and Bruce were used to his disappearances. When he left to bring Percy to the Styx or when he came back from the battle with Kronos injured and bleeding, at age 10, they didn’t ask questions. Agent A simply patched him up, and warned him to be more careful when fighting criminals.
During the Giant war, Nico disappeared for nearly 9 months. Both Bruce and Dick were extremely worried, but Tim had left a letter saying he was going on a mission. Batman hadn’t issued any long-standing undercover missions, but he knew better than to try and track Tim down. That boy was just too good at hiding.
During his absence, Damian was revealed by Talia, and Bruce adopted him. Feeling slightly guilty, he turned over Tim’s mask, dubbing him the new Robin. A couple months later, Jason was revealed to be alive. Talia had resuscitated him using the lazarus pit, and he had taken up the mantle of Red Hood.
He didn’t remember Tim, and Bruce never talked about him. It was like when Jason died; just another face on the wall, another covered up picture. Dick never said a word about him, and Jason did not press his sibling. Neither did Damian, who despite having trouble with emotion, detected the sadness the other boy caused Dick. But that didn’t mean the brothers wouldn’t search for him using other means.
Something about the picture bothered Jason. The angelic feel about it, the deep sense of recognition springing from his gut. He didn’t know from where, but he felt like he’d met this boy. But he hadn’t met anyone except the league, or the strange italian kid who had escorted him out of the underworld with that afro-american girl. Jason shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Timothy Drake held no resemblance to Angel, so why did he keep thinking about him?
After the Giant War, Nico came back to a changed family. Dick, age 16, had moved to Bludhaven, becoming a detective by day and Nightwing by night. Jason, age 14, was on uneasy terms with Bruce, the pair quarrelling over his high death toll. And Nico now had a new brother, Damian, the ten year old blood son of Bruce Wayne.
But Nico, too, had changed. His time in Tartarus had scared him, and his failures still haunted him. He didn’t think Bruce would want him back. After all, he was only Jason’s replacement. Not to mention he had Damian, his blood son.
Quietly, the shadow on the rooftops turned away, leaving his ever-squabbling compagnions behind. He took up a new name, one known throughout the demigod and mortal community alike- shadow. A crazed monster killer who occasionally abducted children, and almost never stepped into fights. But when he did, it was a massacre, the young half-blood knocking out his enemies with ease. But he always waited until the last second. He would not intervene if he could avoid it.