Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Percy first decided to go back home-to his uncles house, he knew there were two ways he could go about this.

He could do the responsible thing, for once in his life, and call ahead. Let his fa- unc- Bruce know he was coming. Give the man time to prepare the interrogation that would undoubtedly happen.

The other way he could go about this was a lot more his style. He’d call ahead and let Alfred know, he wasn’t a monster, but apart from that? Nothing. No letter, no call, nothing to let Bruce know he was coming. The man would have no time to prepare, no warning. Percy would have the upper hand, put Bruce on the defensive.

Look. One part of him thought that he was being harsh. He was going back to Gotham, not planning a battle. The other part, the part that had kept him alive this long said that anything could be a battle, especially if Bruce was involved.

Percy sighed, staring at the packed duffle bag on the bed in front of him. One way or another, he had to make a decision. He couldn’t stay at his mothers anymore.

Don’t get him wrong, Percy loved his mother, more than he could ever say, but he couldn’t jeopardise her chance at a normal, happy life. Not after everything she’s been through. Her and Paul were so happy, especially with the baby on the way. She shouldn’t have to deal with waking up in the middle of the night to tend to her baby, then have to deal with Percy’s nightmares as well.

Plus, his presence alone put them in danger.

He had to do this.

It’s not like his uncle had a normal happy life for him to ruin anyway.

Percy picked up his faded blue duffel and slung it over his shoulder. He hadn’t had a lot to pack, after all he hadn’t had a life since he was fifteen.

The duffel was filled with clothes, some notebooks, and the various demigod essentials, Ambrosia, Nectar, a couple of spare daggers, both mortal and not. He included a few photos, him and his mom, him his mom and Paul, him and annabeth, and the one photo he took from Wayne manner when he left, the photo of him and Jason.

And Jason was alive, wasn’t that something. Percy hadn’t really processed that yet. He came back after, well after everything to find that his previously dead older brother was alive and just kind of blue screened, no pun intended. If he was being honest with himself, he didn't think he’d be able to believe it until he saw Jason, and even then, he would be waiting for the other shoe to drop. He wasn’t that lucky. The people he lost didn’t come back.

Percy lingered in the doorway of his room for a minute, taking everything in. He expected to feel… something. The cracked blue paint on the walls and the fish patterned pillow were bought to make him feel at home but Percy had never spent much time in it up until the last six months, and he hadn’t really been taking in the decor.

The sad fact was, it wasn’t home. Not really.

He turned away and headed to the kitchen. His mom was already there, a sad smile on her face.

“Hey sweetheart,” she said, opening her arms for a hug. Percy walked into them, leaning in close and just breathing for a second.

“I’m going to miss you kid,” she said as she buried her face into his hair.

“I’m going to call every day. Maybe even twice a day, you'll get sick of me,” he reassured her.

“Never.”

They stood there for a second before Percy pulled away, trying to ignore the tear tracks on his mums face.

He had to do this.

“Have you decided what you're going to do?”

Percy grimaced.

“I think I’m going to call, and whoever picks up, picks up.”

He was putting it in the hands of the fates, like that had gone so well for him in the past.

Sally laughed wetly.

“Well, don’t let me stop you.”

She handed him the phone.

Percy willed his hands not to shake as he dialed the familiar number and brought the phone to his ear.

It rang once, twice, and then there was the click of a call connecting.

“Wayne Manor, you are speaking to the butler. May I ask who’s calling?”

Percy let out a sigh of relief at hearing the sound of Alfred’s voice.

“Hey Alfie.”

Alfred didn't gasp, but there was a sharp intake of breath.

“Master Percy?

Alfred sounded… rattled. Percy had never heard him like that before.

“Yeah. Um, it's been a while?”

“I dare say it has. Are you alright?”

Percy didn’t know how to answer that. He hadn’t spoken to that part of his family since just after the battle of manhattan, when he’d called Alfred to let him know he was okay, and ended up in a screaming match with Bruce over why he couldn’t come home.

Gods, it felt like a life time ago.

As far as his mortal family knew, he’d gone missing in December, and not found until September. Apparently Bruce had tried to contact him, back when he’d first gotten back, but Percy hadn’t been ready to face him. He was barely able to get out of bed those days, let alone deal with the mess he’d left behind.

His mom had stepped in, told Bruce that he was recovering from what he went through and wasn’t up to seeing anyone. He knew they got into a big fight over it, but hadn’t been able to feel guilty about it at the time.

Not that Alfred really was his mortal family.

“I'm not dead?” Percy said.

Alfred hummed disprovingly.

“Despite your best efforts to the contrary.”

“Hey! I haven't done anything stupid in at least a week.” Well, if you didn't count his whole coming home thing as something stupid. Jury was still out on that one.

“Uh Alfie?” Percy asked before he could lose his nerve.

“Yes Master Percy?”

“Is it alright if I come stay for a little while?”

There was a beat of silence before Alfred answered.

“Of course,” he said, voice sounding strained.

“This will always be your home.”

Percy choked back a sob. He hadn’t even noticed he’d started crying.

Alfred seemed to sense he needed further prompting, as he spoke.

“When can we expect you?”

“Um now?”

Percy didn't think he’d be able to cope sitting and waiting.

“Are you already outside?” Alfred asked, sounding skeptical.

“No um, I’m going to take Mrs O’Leary.”

“Ah.”

Alfred had only met Mrs O'Leary once, and it hadn’t been the best experience for either party. Alfred’s rose bushes never had been quite the same afterwards.

“Don’t worry, she’s not staying, just giving me a lift.”

“Very Well. I shall let you go so you can depart then, I will see you soon.”

“Wait-” Percy said before he could hang up.

“Can you not tell Bruce I’m coming?”

“Very well.” Percy could practically hear the raised eyebrow in his voice.

“See you soon Alfie.”

Percy hung up.

“Ready to go?”

Percy turned back to his mom. He didn't think he could speak past the lump in his throat, so he just nodded.

“I love you Percy,”

“I love you too mom.”

The second Percy hung up, Alfred had to fight the urge to sit down. There had been many times when he had thought that Percy would never come home, and after he heard news that his grandson had fallen into Tartarus, he’d given up hoping.

It seemed, despite everything, Percy Jackson was coming home.

He picked the phone back up, dialing the number of another grandson he thought he’d lost to soon.

“Alfie? Is everything okay?” Jason asked.

“Master Jason, you have to come to dinner tonight.”

Jason groaned.

“If Bruce and I are in the same room together, I cannot be held responsible for what I do. I can’t deal with his holier than thou-”

“Master Jason.”

Jason paused his tirade. Alfred was aware he’d let more emotion slip than he usually allow, but couldn’t bring himself to care.

“What's wrong?”

Alfred forced himself to take a deep breath in.

“Master Percy is coming home.”

Jason was silent as rustling filled the phone. The sound of an engine starting came through.

“I’m on my way. Don’t tell Bruce.”

Alfred bit back a smile.

“Funny. That’s what your brother said too.”

Jason laughed before disconnecting the phone.

Alfred took another second to breathe before he moved. Percy would be arriving literally any minute.

He headed to the entryway, arriving just as there was a knock on the door.

Alfred went to it right away, almost throwing it open. Standing there, in a faded blue hoodie and an old pair of jeans, was. Percy. Older and far more tired than when he last saw him, but undeniably his grandson.

“My dear boy,” Alfred said, placing a hand on Percy’s back and leading him inside.

“Long time no see,” Percy said, smiling drily.

Alfred scoffed. That was certainly one way of putting it.

“I imagine you’ll want to go to your room and settle in before dinner. It is exactly how you left it.”

Percy winced.

“I hope it isn’t exactly how I left it.”

Indeed, Percy’s room had been filled with dirty clothes and old food, a result of his adhd. After he left, Alfred had gone through and cleaned up the hygiene hazards, but left all of Percy’s items where they were.

“Perhaps a bit cleaner.”

“Thank the gods.”

There were many things to thank for Percy’s homecoming, but the gods weren’t one of them, in Alfred’s opinion.

Alfred and Percy walked in companionable silence to the family wing of the house. The other residents of the manner were all out, at either work or school, or whatever Jason did in his spare time.

It was probably for the best, Alfred didn’t think Percy could handle running into anyone. Not with the way his hands were shaking.

Alfred didn't mention it, just like Percy didnt mention the fact that Alfred hadn’t removed his hand from his back, afraid that if he were to let go, Percy would disappear again.

He had to get it all out now, before Dick came and saw Percy.

They reached Percy’s room altogether too quickly for Alfred’s tastes. Soon he would have to leave him again to go about his duties.

Percy hesitated in the doorway of his room.

“I have some notes for you from Will, the head healer at camp.”

Alfred didn’t react outwardly, but inside felt his heart stutter. He had no doubt that whatever he would find in those notes, he wouldn't like it.

“Are you alright master Percy?”

Percy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Just some leftovers from, well you know.”

Alfred did indeed know. That cursed pit.

“Let me know if there's anything you need.”

“Thanks Alfie. I’m going to IM Annabeth to let her know I’ve arrived safe. Can you let me know when dinners ready?”

Recognising the dismissal for what it was, Alfred nodded, accepting the folded piece of paper that Percy pulled out of his pocket and gave to him.

“Of course Master Percy. Tell young Miss Annabeth I say hello.”

Percy smiled thinly, then closed the door to his bedroom.

Unfortunately, Alfred couldn't linger as he wanted to. He had a dinner to prepare.

Hopefully he still had some blue food dye in the pantry.

Percy dropped his duffel on the blue sheets of his bed, dragging a hand down his face. The sheets weren’t faded like he’d expected them to be, probably due to Alfred. But then again, it had only been two years, even if it felt like a lifetime.

Alfred was right. His room was pretty much exactly how he left it, sans empty cups and plates. His bed was made, albeit messily. There were shirts and socks strewn in a pile near his dresser with draws that were still half open from when he’d packed to leave for his mothers.

The desk in the corner was covered in ink stains from the time he’d had a pen explode on him. It happened not long after Bruce took him in, and Percy had been terrified he’d get mad. He’d ruined an antique after all, and Gabe had lost it when he spilled juice on his couch, despite the fact that it was covered in beer stains. But Bruce had just shaken his head, a faint smile on his lips, and told him that it wasn’t his fault.

Percy shook his head, dismissing the memory. His relationship with Bruce was very different now, there was no point dwelling on the past.

Instead, he walked over and picked up some of the scrunched up pieces of paper that were on his desk. Most were old school worksheets that he never turned itn. There were a couple of things he was meant to have Bruce sign but forgot, and those dated back years before he left. There were even the remnants of the disastrous afternoon where Annabeth tried to teach him geometry over Iris message.

Speaking of, he had to message her to let her know he’d arrived.

Pushing the duffel bag to make room on his bed, Percy sat, trying not to think too hard about his dirty jeans being in Alfred’s clean sheets.

He pulled the prism out of the side pocket of his bag, and a Golden Drachma from his pocket, setting it up and tossing the coin in.

“Oh Iris Goddess of the Rainbow, show me Annabeth Chase, San Francisco.”

It was 4 in Gotham, so she would still be in school at this time ordinarily, but her school let seniors leave at lunch on fridays, so she should’ve just gotten home.

The rainbow shimmered, and Annabeth appeared before him. She was sitting at her desk, hunched over some papers, ink smeared on her cheek. The light of her lamp streaked through her hair, turning it golden.

She was beautiful when she focused, Percy took a minute to admire her before speaking.

“Hey Wise Girl.”

She looked up, hand reaching for her knife, before her expression softened.

“I though you knew not to startle me when I’m working seaweed brain,” she said with a smile, emphasising the nickname to show she wasn’t actually upset.

Percy raised his hands up in defence, laughing slightly.

“Hey, you told me to call you when I arrived. I’m just following instructions.”

Her eyes sharpened as she remembered what was happening—had happened—today.

“How is it?”

He appreciated that she didn’t ask how he was feeling, because Gods know he has no idea.

“It’s strange. The house is exactly the same—remind me to bring you here sometime, you’d love the architecture.”

She snorted.

“I'm sure Bruce would love that.”

Percy shrugged. He didn’t really care what Bruce did and didn’t like.

“Alfred would overrule him. He loves you.”

“As he should. Tell him I say hello.”

“Somedays I think he likes you better than me.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes.

“As if. From what you've told me, he wouldn’t use food colouring for just anyone.”

Percy smiled sadly, before changing topics to how Annabeths day was. She told him about her classes and current assignments, going on a ten minute tangent about the intelligence of her physics teacher. By the end of it, Percy felt a lot lighter.

“So. Are you ready to see everyone?”

Until Annabeth asked that.

Percy sighed, burying his head in his heads.

“I guess? It’s going to be so weird seeing Jason again. A good weird, but weird.”

Annabeth hummed.

“If I had a nickel for every person I know who had a brother called Jason who was presumed dead and then reappeared years later, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.”

Percy burst out laughing at the shear absurdity of both the situation and the fact that Annabeth was quoting Phineas and Ferb.

“Thanks, I really needed that.”

Her eyes softened.

“It's going to be fine Percy. Dealing with your mortal family can not be worse than dealing with the godly side.”

Percy wasn’t so sure about that, but he knew he’d find out.

Chapter Text

Jason was pretty sure he was in shock. The entire ride to Wayne Manor passed in a blur, Gotham landmarks fading into each other in various shades of grey. It seemed like only a minute had passed since Alfred had told him Percy was coming home, but there he was standing in front of the Manors front door.

God, he was about to see Percy again. He hadn’t seen him since, well, since he died. By the time he had come back to Gotham, Percy had left Bruce to stay with his mother again. Jason had desperately wanted to see his baby brother, Percy had been the only member of the family apart from Alfred that Talia hadn’t been able to twist him against, but he knew he should keep his distance, for Percy’s own sake.

And then he’d gone missing for ten months.

Jason had still been refusing to talk with everyone when Alfred had hunted him down and told him.

Jason had immediately set aside his vendettas to join the search, but they hadn’t been able to find him, and then Bruce died, and then wasn’t dead, and Percy was still missing.

Finally they got the news that he was back, but they weren’t allowed to see him. Sally had put her foot down against Bruce, which was honestly impressive, claiming that Percy “wasn’t up to receiving visitors.”

Jason had spent many nights lying awake wondering what could’ve happened to his brother to make him shut out his family for six months.

But now he was home.

Jason finally worked up the nerve to push open the doors.

Alfred was waiting for him in the entryway, Jason never figured out how he was always able to tell when someone approached the manor. He didn’t comment on Jason’s almost certainly messy appearance, merely taking his helmet and jacket.

“He’s in his bedroom.”

Jason nodded, before practically sprinting to the family wing. Percy’s room was right next to his, a fact that they had abused when they were younger, but had made coming home all the more difficult ever since.

The deep blue paint on the door was exactly the same, and if it weren’t for the light shining out from under the door, and the muffled sound of a voice on the other side, Jason would think it was still empty like it had been ever since Jason rejoined the family.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked. The sounds on the other side of the door ceased, and it seemed like Percy was holding his breath.

“It’s Jason.” Jason spoke for the first time since he had talked with Alfred, and was incredibly surprised that it came out steady.

There was a soft thump from the other side of the room, and Jason could faintly here Percy say “I’ve gotta go, I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

A few seconds later, the door swung open, revealing his baby brother, who he thought he’d never see again. He took a minute just to look at Percy, and it was clear he was doing the same.

He was still shorter than Jason, even though he had grown a fair amount. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was paler than could possibly be healthy. There were five years of differences, but it was undeniably Percy.

Jason wanted to reach out and touch him, but wasn’t sure if that would be okay, so instead, he just said the first thing that came to mind.

“You look like shit.”

Percy snorted, rolling his eyes and stepping back.

“Well we can’t all be built like a brick house. Gods Jason, have you been taking steroids?”

Yep, it was definetly Percy.

He wished he could say his growth spurt was all natural, but it really wasn’t.

“Drank some bad Mountain Dew. Wouldn’t recommend.”

Perry gestured for him to come inside, then sat on the bad.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’m more of a Coke person anyway.”

Seems like some things never changed. Jason went to sit beside Percy, sitting just close enough that Percy could reach out and initiate physical contact if he wanted to.

They sat in awkward silence for a while before Percy breathed out through his nose.

“So. Been a while.”

Jason snorted. The funny thing was, he knew this was Percy trying to be tactful.

“Yeah. It definitely has.” He knew it was only a matter of time before his brother would decide that subtlety was overrated, and started being blunt.

“You were dead.” And there it was.

“Yep. We thought you were dead.”

“I almost was a few times. I’m not though.”

Jason had suspected that Percy was in serious danger while he was missing, but to have it confirmed hurt.

“Where were you Percy? Not even Bruce was able to find you.”

Percy sighed heavily, bending over to bury his head in his hands, which were shaking slightly, but he seemed more frustrated than upset.

“Jason, can we not?” He asked, sounding so defeated in a way he never had as a kid. But they weren’t kids anymore. God knows Jason wasn’t.

“Okay, I’ll drop it.”

“Really?”

Percy shifted his head so that he was looking skeptically at him through one eye.

“Really. Although I can garuntee Bruce won’t.”

Percy groaned, flopping backwards onto the bed, just like he did when they were kids and Jason was helping him with his English assignments.

“Don’t remind me. Think we can just gaslight him into thinking I was here the whole time?”

Jason chuckled lowly, leaning backwards on his elbows so he was next to Percy.

“Demon brat tried that a few months back with a litter of kittens. Didn't quite work out the way he planned.”

The face Alfred made when he opened a kitchen cabinet to find two kittens amongst the china was glorious. Almost indistinguishable from his regular face, but glorious.

Percy snorted.

“Demon brat?”

“Damian. Bruce’s spawn.”

“Ah yes, I heard he finally figured out how to get a kid the regular way. What’s he like?”

God what a loaded question. How much could he say without scaring Percy off.

“You remember his mother Talia right? From what I’ve heard you would’ve been around when that fling was going down.”

It would’ve been in Percy’s first year or so at the manner, so Jason wasn’t sure if Bruce would’ve let Percy meet her. The last thing a traumatised child would need was dealing with Talia of all people. Literally all of Bruce’s children could attest to that.

“Talia? I don’t- oh gods I repressed that.”

Percy groaned, scrunching his nose.

“That’s the kids mother? Poor kid.”

Jason laughed at the look of disgust and judgement on Percy’s face.

“Poor kid? Poor us! Imagine a mini Bruce mixed with a mini Talia running around with a katana.”

Okay, that was a bit harsh. Damian had grown a lot since he was introduced to the family. At least he wasn’t likely to try and kill Percy like he had Tim, although Jason wasn’t sure whether the blood relation would help or hinder Percy’s standing in Damian’s eyes.

But at this moment Jason would say anything to keep Percy laughing, not staring off into space with a hollow look in his eyes.

“Emo kid with a sword huh? I have a cousin like that.”

That didn’t make any sense. Jason knew all of Percy’s cousins, he was one, technically.

“Damian? Yeah he’s your cousin. Weird way of phrasing that.”

Percy blinked, looking as confused as Jason felt.

“What? Yeah of course he’s my cousin- Oh! No I was talking about my cousin on my dad’s side. Nico. He and Damian would either get along great or kill each other. Maybe both. I’m honestly surprised Nico hasn’t tried to kill me before. Well, properly tried.”

Percy was rambling. He tended to do that when he’d said something he shouldn’t and he was hoping if he said enough stuff whoever he was speaking to would look past it.

That strategy had never worked on Jason. It was kind of funny that he thought it would.

“Back up. I thought you didn’t know about your fathers side of the family.”

Percy muttered something under his breath in a language Jason didn't know, but he was ninety percent sure was some form of curse.

“Any chance you’ll drop that too?” He asked sheepishly.

This kid- Jason couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or tear his hair out.

Percy certainly hadn’t changed much.

Jason reached over and rustled Percy’s hair, rolling his eyes at the stuck out tongue he got in return.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you 48 hours to settle in, no questions, and i’ll do my best to keep Bruce off your back, but when those 48 hours are up? You’re toast.”

Of course, Jason would try and keep Bruce off of Percy’s back anyway, not that it would do a lot of good. No one deserved the full force of Bruce’s disappointed interrogation.

“Gee I don’t know. It’s gonna take me a while to fully settle in. Could we extend that to maybe 48 days? Or months! Or years even, i’m not picky.”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re getting 48 hours squirt. Don’t push it.”

“You wound me Jason.”

“And yet somehow I think you’ll live.”

Chapter Text

Normally, Percy was relatively excited for dinner time. At camp it meant that campfire time and nightly activities were starting soon, and at his moms it was one of the few times he felt semi normal, sharing a meal with what passed as a normal family to observers.

Dinner at Wayne manner however? Well, let’s just say that there’s several things he would rather do than sit at the same table with Bruce for a minimum of an hour with no escape. He’d rather have dinner with a hydra.

Unfortunately, he had made the decision to come back to Wayne manor, that meant dealing with Bruce. He resolutely ignored the voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that Bruce wasn’t always so bad.

“So how are you planning on approaching dinner?” Jason asked, brushing off his hands and pushing himself off the bed.

Percy threw his arm over his eyes, refusing to get up yet.

“Walk down to the dining room and walk towards the table, the same way I approach all my dinners.”

Percy felt a soft thump on his side, which he assumed was from Jason hitting him with a pillow. The violence in this household.

“You know that’s not what I meant dumbass. How are you planning to deal with Bruce.”

Percy sighed, allowing Jason to pull him up into a sitting position by his arm.

“Honestly I was planning on just sitting at the table and waiting to see how long it takes him to notice.”

With Bruce’s adoption tendencies he’d certainly fit in.

Jason snorted, finally fully pulling Percy to his feet.

“Well then you had better get down there before he does.

Gods dammit, Jason had a point.

Percy made a show of dragging his feet, but let Jason pull him through the halls of Wayne manor.

They were the first to reach the table, which wasn’t surprising considering Alfred hadn’t even been up to get them yet. Percy had no idea why Jason had dragged him down so early, but he supposed it was working in his favour.

He stood in the entryway as he examined the dining room, feeling out of place. Where was he meant to sit? Was his seat the same as it used to be, or had someone claimed it since then.

Jason turned to him, raising his eyebrow.

“What are you waiting for?”

Percy shrugged, unsure how to voice his dilemma. Jason seemed to understand, as his face twisted with an emotion Percy couldn’t quite place.

“Your seats the same. Bruce is too much of a sentimental bastard to let someone else sit in it.”

A wave of emotions hit Percy as he stiffly moved to his seat, the one immediately left of the head of the table. He couldn’t name every emotion, but anger, grief, guilt, and confusion were pretty prominent.

“Bruce wouldn’t like being called sentimental,” he said, instead of dealing with his emotions like a healthy human being.

“Then Bruce should reevaluate literally all of his life choices.”

Percy chuckled thinly, slowly sitting down.

The dining room was exactly the same. The table still had the little chip from when he’d missed his plate with his steak knife the first time Cass came to dinner and scared the shit out of him.

Jason took his seat beside Percy, resting his head on one hand and tapping the fingers one the other on the table.

“The others should be down soon. Bruce is normally the last.”

Percy nodded, taking a deep breath to try and prepare himself.

“Who’s gonna be at dinner?”

It wasn’t a Sunday so it wouldn’t be a scheduled family dinner, so hopefully he could start small. Only the people in the manner should be coming, in theory anyway.

“Tim and Cass definitely, they both live here most of the time, and Alfred forces Tim to come to dinner unless he’s actually dying so he can make sure he’s eating something that he didn’t microwave.”

That sounded about right for Tim.

“Damian and Duke both live at the manner full time, they’ll be here. Duke is B’s foster kid, about a year younger than you. You’ll love him. He acts like he’s the sensible one, but don’t believe him, he’s unhinged, he’s just better at hiding it then the rest of us.”

That certainly sounded promising. Percy had lots of experience with people who seemed normal in the context of their family, and then you realise that no, they’re also insane. Annabeth being the main person to come to mind.

“Dicks about fifty fifty. He spends half his time here and the rest over in blüd. I haven’t spoken to him in, like, a week, so I’m not sure where he is currently.”

Ah yes, Dick. That was going to be… interesting. Their relationship had never really been consistent, one minute Dick was trying to be the ultimate big brother, the next he was so pissed with Bruce he practically ignored Percy’s existence. Then Jason died and he’d become almost as overbearing as Bruce, trying to butt in on Percy’s business and treating him like an infant.

“Babs only comes on sundays or special events. Or when Tim has a new plan to give Bruce a migraine and she wants to watch. Steph comes and goes as she pleases, it's anyone's guess as to when she’ll show up.”

Percy blinked. Steph as in Tim’s girlfriend who died? Percy had only met her a handful of times, but he vividly remembered Tim showing up at his moms apartment in tears in the middle of the night after she died. He’d stayed up all night trying to comfort his best friend/sort of brother as he grieved.

“Did Steph come back to life as well?” He asked.

Jason winced.

“Not exactly. She died, but only for a few seconds before her heart restarted. Apparently, Leslie helped her fake her death.”

Now, Percy had accidentally let people think he was dead a few times before. He’d even walked in on his own funeral. But despite the slight hypocrisy, he couldn't quite stop the flood of rage that surged through him. A part of Tim had been broken when she died, and to find out his brother didn’t need to go through that? Percy wasn’t thrilled.

Jason must have noticed his anger, probably from the way his fist was clenched and whatever look was undoubtedly on his face, as he rushed to speak.

“It wasn’t her fault. From what I’ve been told she wasn’t even conscious for the first week or two, and certainly wasn’t up to making decisions for a while after that. Leslie didn't think it was safe for her in Gotham, and let’s face it she wasn’t wrong.”

Percy took a deep breath. He wasn’t really angry at Steph, not after what Jason said. He’d heard what happened to her from Tim, he can’t imagine the recovery, both physical and mental, that something like that would take.

“Someone should’ve told Tim.”

Jason let out a slow breath.

“Yeah, probably.”

The silence that followed probably would’ve quickly become awkward if it was left to sit, but instead was interrupted by someone entering the dining room.

Cass practically glided into the room, steps only faltering slightly as she laid eyes on Percy.

“Little brother?” Her expression was mostly blank, but her eyes were slightly wider than normal.

Percy forced a small, but genuine smile.

“Hey Cass.”

Cass’ face lit up in a grin. She flew over to him, pausing right in front of him with her arms open, head tilted to the side, asking permission to hug him.

He nodded, he’d never turn down a hug from Cass.

Her arms enveloped him, which physically shouldn’t be possible based on their length, but Percy had long since learnt not to question Cass. At one point, one of her hands got a little too close to the small of his back, and he tensed. Cass would’ve noticed, even if she wasn’t hugging him, but she didn’t say anything, merely moved her arms higher. Just as the hug would’ve become too much, Cass pulled away.

She studied him for a moment, practically staring into his soul. It was incredibly unnerving, but not as bad as dealing with the mummy oracle, so Percy sucked it up.

For the first thirty seconds or so anyway. Then it started to get a bit uncomfortable.

“Um. Do I have something on my face?” He asked, nervously glancing at Jason.

Cass just narrowed her eyes.

“Cass. Chill, you're freaking him out,” Jason said, although the effect was ruined by his laughter.

Cass glared at Jason, but backed off to sit in her seat.

“I’m glad you’re home, brother.”

Percy’s smile faltered slightly as a lump formed in his throat. He wasn’t so sure about the home part. Or the happy part.

But he was pretty sure he would always be Cass’ brother. Whether he wanted to or not. So he nodded, smiling thinly.

He was saved from having to reply verbally by the sound of voices coming from the hallway.

“-I’m telling you Duke, a straw doesn’t have any holes at all. Its a flat surface that’s then curved inward. If you cut it down the middle and fold it out there’s no more hole, because it didn't exist in the first place!”

“Tim. Please tell me you don’t actually believe that.”

“Of course I believe it, it’s the truth!”

Percy bit his lip against the genuine smile he felt coming. Sound like Tim was still exactly the same. Unconsciously, Percy stood from his seat, walking towards the doorway.

“Come on man, they teach 3D shapes in grade 1! I know you dropped out, but I didn’t think it was that early…” Two figures rounded the corner, Tim and a taller kid who Percy assumed was Duke. The second Tim saw Percy he froze, face carefully blank. Probably Duke stopped walking a second after, glancing between Tim and Percy warily.

“Tell me something only you would know,” Tim said lowly after a moment of silence.

A normal person probably would’ve been offended by that, but while Percy had never been a bat, he had been a Demigod, and a monster impersonating a long dead or missing friend was sadly a possibility.

“You set fire to the carpet in the third floor media room trying to remove a zesti stain before Alfred noticed.”

The steel left Tim’s eyes immediately, replaced by a grin.

“Percy! Where the fuck were you!” He ran forward. Just as Percy was about to mentally prepare himself for another hug, Tim kicked him in the shins.

“Six months and not even a phone call. I would’ve broken into your apartment if I wasn’t slightly scared of Sally.”

Percy rolled his eyes as Tim finally hugged him.

“Good to see you too Tim.”

“Wish I could say the same. You look like shit.”

Why does everyone keep saying that. Sure he’d never gotten all of his colour back after Tartarus, and sure he hadn’t washed or cut his hair in a potentially concerning length of time, and yeah, he had some eye bags so deep that they could almost carry his trauma, but it's not like Tim could talk in that regard.

“Damn Tim, I thought you missed me.”

Tim pulled away from him to give Percy an irritated look.

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw Duke walk over to Jason.

“So who is this guy again?” He stage whispered.

“Little Brother,” Cass said, at the same time Jason replied, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

“Our Cousin slash Brother. Its complicated.”

Duke snorted.

“Sounds about right for this family.”

Percy turned to face them, crossing his arms.

“I can hear you you know.”

“Oh I know,” Jason replied, completely unrepentant.

“Dicks gonna be pissed he missed this. He’s on a case with the Titans all week.”

Something inside Percy wilted in relief, even if he didn’t outwardly show it. While facing Dick would be significantly easier than facing Bruce— as low of a bar that that was— it would be easier to not have to deal with both of them at once.

“I’m surprised he didn’t ditch the mission to come home, Bruce must’ve told him, surely he’s learnt his lesson by now,” Tim mused.”

“Oh Bruce doesn’t know. I didn’t tell him I was coming.”

About five different emotions cycled through Tim’s face, including, but not limited to, surprise, exasperation, and finally settling on amusement.

“Oh this will be good. Bruce does so well with surprises.”

Percy rolled his eyes, a small smirk on his lips.

“Bruce will survive.”

If the man hadn’t had a paranoia induced heart attack by now, Percy’s appearance wasn’t going to do it. Sure he’ll sulk for a week or two, but that would be barely distinguishable from his regular mood.

Tim shook his head, still smiling.

“True. At least you haven’t decapitated anyone.”

Jason rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up, although he was smiling.

“Those people had it coming.”

Percy was almost certainly missing some context. He hadn’t really kept up with events in Gotham before the past three months or so, but he knew that Jason had done a brief stint as a rogue. That was probably all he really wanted to know about the situation, even if he was morbidly curious.

Also Percy had definitely decapitated a few monsters, but Tim didn’t need to know that.

“I’m not nearly that dramatic.”

Cass shot him a skeptical look, but no one called him out on it.

“And what are you planning to do?” Tim asked.

“Eat dinner and wait until Bruce notices he’s got an extra kid at the table.” He was sticking to the plan he told Jason, even if he was half joking when he said it.

Tim snorted, before his eyes widened.

“Did someone warn Damian?”

Jason’s eyes also widened.

“Oh shi-”

“Warn me about what?” A kid who was almost certainly Damian said as he entered the dining room.

He caught sight of Percy immediately, narrowing his eyes. To the untrained eye his posture didn’t change, but Percy could see the subtle shift into a fighting stance and the way his right hand twitched for a weapon.

“Tt. I see father has brought home another stray. I’ll admit, I thought his self control would last longer, but I can’t say i’m surprised.”

Oh gods the kid was a mini Bruce. A mini Bruce that just insulted Bruce (and Percy but that was pretty par for the course for Percy’s life.)

It was honestly pretty funny, not that Percy would admit that. Tim clearly agreed, as he attempted to turn his laugh into a cough. Jason, keeping with his pattern for the afternoon, made no attempt to disguise his amusement as he spoke.

“Not quite. This is your cousin, Percy.”

Damians stance relaxed slightly, still ready for a fight, but no longer about to initiate one. Small wins.

He studied Percy, mouth curling into a sneer.

“Ah, Perseus, Father has mentioned you occasionally. I always got the impression that you weren’t welcome here.”

Now, logically Percy knew that laughing would only enrage the kid, and angering the emo child with access to blades probably be a bad move. However, he truly couldn’t help it.

“Yeah,” he said between bursts of laughter, “that’s one way to put it.”

He knew for a fact that Bruce had called his mom three times a day for a month after he’d come home, practically begging for Percy to recover in Wayne manor.

Bruce wasn’t the one who didn’t want Percy at Wayne manor. That was all him.

Damian glared at Percy.

“Do not laugh at me, or you will regret it.”

Gods this really was Nico all over again. Percy could vividly picture Damian saying he was the ghost king. That mental image almost made him laugh harder.

“I’m not laughing at you, I promise,” Percy said, still laughing.

Damian did not look convinced. Fair enough. Percy wouldn't be either.

“It’s just a funny situation. It’s been a long day.”

“He’s not the most mentally stable,” Tim chimed in, putting a hand in front of the mouth like he was whispering.

“I can tell.”

“Hey!”

“Children, what’s going on?” A deep voice called out from the hall, immediately extinguishing Percy’s amusement.

Percy and Jason made panicked eye contact, but were unable to move before Bruce entered the dining room. He walked in without any hurry, holding a glass of water in one hand, and rubbing his face tiredly before he paused in the entryway, taking in all of the dining rooms inhabitants.

Bruce’s eyes scanned the room, before locking on Percy. He paled from eggshell white to ivory, and the glass fell from his hand, spilling water across the floor.

“Percy?”

Percy waved stiffly.

“Hey Bruce. Long time no see.”

Chapter Text

There were a lot of things Bruce had wished for over the years. He wished that he and his parents hadn’t been in the alley that night. He wished he hadn’t failed his sister so spectacularly she refused to associate with the family name. He wished he hadn’t let Dick think that he didn't love him like a son for years. He wished he hadn’t pushed Jason away, hadn’t forced Tim to take care of him, had found Cass sooner, had protected Steph, had rescued Damian from Talia, had saved Dukes parents.

He wished none of his children ever had to suffer.

But recently, what he had wished the most was for his son, Percy, to come home. To see him one more time. To hold him in his arms and tell him he was sorry for pushing too hard. To make sure no one could ever hurt him again.

Bruce never got what he wished for. Which was why he was so shocked to see his second son/ nephew standing in the dining room joking with the rest of his children.

He looked… well he looked better than he did in the surveillance footage Bruce was able to find from when Sally first brought him back six months ago, not that that was difficult. That Percy looked as if he hadn’t eaten or slept for the entire time he was missing, and was almost as pale as Bruce himself. He’d had this haunted look in his eyes, like he’d seen hell itself. That look was still there, but it was lessened by other emotions.

Someone cleared their throat and Bruce realised he’d been staring for too long.

“Percy,” he repeated, more controlled but equally desperate.

Percy shifted his weight, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“That’s my name. Last time I checked anyway.”

Bruce wasn’t normally good with words, but now they were spectacularly failing him.

Echoes of his last conversation with Sally filled his mind. He remembered gripping the the phone so hard the screen cracked as he stared at the grainy photo from the security camera outside Sallys apartment, looking at his son for the first time in months.

“Please Sally, let me see him.”

Sally sighed across the phone line.

“He’s not up for seeing anyone at the moment. He needs time to recover.”

She sounded so drained. Bruce should've stopped pushing, but he’d never known when to quit.

“Sally. Let me see my son. I need to know he’s okay.”

“He’s not your son Bruce, he’s mine, and it’s about time you remembered that instead of constantly butting in,” she snapped.

Sally was an incredibly kind woman, but she had a hell of a temper, especially when it came to Percy. It wasn’t the first time she had snapped at Bruce, but like always, his little sisters anger had shaken him to the core.

Sally sighed again, like the energy had drained out of her.

“He doesn’t need you anymore Bruce. I sent him to you so you could protect him, and all you managed to do was drive him away.”

That hurt. What hurt even more was that it was true.

So Bruce stopped pushing, stopped calling. He’d accepted the fact that he’d never see his son again, not because of any great tragedy, but because of Bruce’s own actions.

But here he was, standing in front of Bruce, getting increasingly uncomfortable.

“Welcome home,” he said, although it came out less certain than everything else he said.

Percy smiled stiffly and gave him a jerky nod.

“Something like that, yeah.”

Bruce was about to say something else, most likely something unhelpful, when Alfred came in carrying a large serving bowl.

“I imagine it will be much easier to eat the meal I spent hours preparing if you are actually seated at the dining table.”

Bruce blinked and Percy snorted.

At some point during Bruce’s attempt to reboot his brain, the rest of the family had sat down around the table. Duke at least had the decency to pretend he wasn’t watching them, the rest were openly staring.

Bruce took his seat at the head of the table, Percy only hesitating a second before sitting in the seat to his left.

It was a sight he never thought he’d see, Percy and Jason sitting at the dining table together again, but it looked completely natural.

Alfred placed the serving bowl in the centre of the table, along with a ladle, before returning to the kitchen. He returned with a platter of what looked like home made garlic bread.

“Dinner is served. Do try to act like civilised human beings rather than a pack of rabid animals.”

Alfred turned to walk back into the kitchen. Bruce had tried many times before to convince Alfred to eat with them every day instead of just holidays, but he always insisted it wasn’t his place.

“Alfie, don’t leave me alone with these people, eat with us,” Percy called out.

“Don’t lump me in with the rest of them,” Jason muttered, causing Percy to laugh.

“Alfie don’t leave me alone with these people plus Jason.”

Jason nodded. “Better.”

“If you insist,” Alfred said, a hint of a smile on his lips as he walked back to the table.

“I do insist.”

Alfred always set an extra plate in case someone decided to drop in unannounced, even though his children really should know better by now, so he didn’t need to go back to the kitchen to get cutlery.

At Alfred’s nod, Bruce grabbed the ladle and served himself some pasta. It appeared to be ravioli with a creamy blue sauce. Of course it was blue, although that implied that Alfred had prior warning that Percy was coming and hadn’t warned Bruce. Honestly that sounded about right. Why was he even surprised anymore.

Percy served himself next, smiling softly at the blue pasta before grabbing a piece of garlic bread. The rest of his children served themselves and started eating.

“So Percy,” Tim said, breaking the semi awkward silence. “Do you still skateboard?”

Percy tilted his head from side to side as he swallowed.

“I haven’t really had the opportunity to in a while, broke my board a few months ago and haven’t had a chance to fix it.”

The look on Percy’s face said that there was more to that story, but Tim didn’t press.

“Well, we’ll have to fix that. You and I can go to the mall sometime and get the supplies needed to fix it. Or a new one, if you want. Bruce will pay.”

Bruce raised his eyebrow. Of course he would pay, and they all knew it, but if his children could pretend that he had any control over his bank account that would be nice.

Percy’s eyes flickered towards Bruce for a second, before returning to Tim.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

They lapsed into silence again, and Bruce took a moment to observe the reactions of his other children of their brothers return.

Jason and Tim seemed happy enough, but there was an edge of anxiety to their every move that Bruce himself felt. It all seemed too good to be true, and at any moment Percy could be ripped away from them again.

Cass was hard to read at the best of times, but she seemed happy enough. Every time she looked at Percy her eyes softened, but she also seemed a little sad. He’d talk to her later to get a better idea of what she was feeling.

Damian… well he was taking it better than Bruce thought he would. He was glaring at Percy, but there had been no misuse of sharp objects or insults hurled so Bruce would take what he could get.

And Duke just looked mildly confused, but also used to this sort of thing.

Bruce turned his attention back to Percy. There was blue sauce on the side of his mouth, and his nose somehow? His right hand was shaking slightly as he raised his spoon, but that had been an issue ever since he went missing when he was twelve, especially when he was particularly tired or emotional. There were new scars all over his hands and arms, little nicks mostly, but some burns and what looked suspiciously like an arrow wound, and honestly who even got arrow wounds these days. What had happened to his son in those awful ten months.

When Bruce had been recovered from the time stream and Percy still wasn’t back…

“Where were you Percy? Nobody was able to find you.” The “Batman wasn’t able to find you” was left unsaid. Bruce had always thought that if he never involved Percy in their night life, he’d be safe. Obviously he was wrong.

Percy’s face hardened, shifting into a stone mask. His eyes bored into Bruce with an intensity that Bruce had rarely seen from anyone.

“Jesus Christ Bruce,” Jason muttered, putting his head in his hands. “You can’t even let the kid finish eating before you interrogate him.”

Bruce did his best to ignore the sense of shame that creeped up through his chest, not quite managing it. Jason was right after all, he hadn’t even hugged Percy yet and he was already questioning him.

Alfred’s disaproving face stared at him from the corner of his eye, and Bruce sighed.

“You’re right.”

Everyone stopped eating, staring at him in disbelief. Someone dropped a spoon, and the resulting clatter echoed through the otherwise silent dining room.

After a second, Tim turned to Cass and stage whispered “Is he broken?”

Cass nodded solemnly.

“Head injuries have finally gotten to him.”

Beside him, Percy slowly untensed, but his expression was still more guarded than it was before.

“So Duke,” he said, obviously changing the topic, “how long have you been stuck with this group.”

“A little under three months, officially, but I’ve known Tim, Steph and Cass a little longer.”

“Tim stalked him,” Cass told Percy.

Tim rolled his eyes.

“I wish you’d stop telling people that.”

“It’s okay Tim, I know it's your love language,” Percy reassured him.

Bruce smiled into his Pasta at the indignant look on Tim's face.

“So what’s your story Percy? Jason explanation was entirely unhelpful.”

Jason gasped in mock offense and Percy snorted.

“He’s often unhelpful,” Percy said, ducking away from Jason’s attempt to ruffle his hair.

“Basically my mom is Bruce’s little sister, and she wasn't always able to take care of me so she sent me to live with Bruce when I was seven because she knew he had a problem with stealing other people's children.”

Rude. Bruce only had one kid at that point.

“Bruce has a sister?” Duke asked and Bruce internally winced. Sally was a sore subject at the best of times.

Thankfully, Alfred answered Dukes question.

“Miss Sally was only a baby when Master Thomas and Miss Martha died. Unfortunately I was not equipped to raise a baby, so she was taken in by some family friends, the Jacksons, who were unable to have children of their own.”

Duke accepted the explanation, and Bruce exhaled in relief. While that was part of the story, it didn’t cover the full picture.

Damian’s scowl deepened.

“So we are truly related to this,” he looked at Percy in derision, “cretin.”

“Damian!” Bruce scolded, but Percy laughed.

“Damn. Been a while since I was called a cretin by an infant.”

Jason snorted, and Damian lunged.

Bruce barely had time to process the knife in his hand before it was being blocked by Percy’s table knife.

“Quick,” Percy said. “But not quick enough.”

With a flick of his wrist, Percy disarmed Damian. The knife fell to the table with a soft thunk. Before anyone could react, Percy picked it up, examining it.

“What-” Damian began, but was interrupted.

“Nice knife. Evenly weighted, pretty sharp, suspiciously ornate handle.

He handed it back to Damian and resumed eating his dinner like nothing had happened.

Bruce was stunned. A quick glance around the table showed everyone else was equally surprised, apart from Alfred, who just sighed.

“Master Damian, what is the rule about murder attempts at the dining table?”

Damian glared at the floor.

“Wait until the plates have been cleared,” he muttered, walking back to his seat.

“What the hell was that?” Tim asked after a beat of silence.

Percy shrugged.

“Mini Bruce tried to stab me and I de-knifed him.”

Bruce was getting a headache, and based on the way Jason placed his head in his hands, he wasn’t the only one.

Duke broke first, bringing his hands up to his mouth to hide his laughter. Cass made no such attempts, and was openly giggling. Beside her, Tim mouthed de-knifed to himself, a flabbergasted expression on his face.

“Alright,” Alfred said, standing up. “I think you're all finished eating. I will be making hot chocolate for those of you who make your way into the family room.”

A.K.A, “please get out of the dining room before you cause any more chaos.”

“Well. We can’t disobey a direct order from Alfie.”

Jason stood before pulling Percy’s chair out.

“Come on, we want to get the good couch.”

Percy laughed, shaking his head as he followed after Jason.

“Who said I’m sitting with you.”

Cass slid up beside Percy and grabbed his arm, Bruce hadn’t even noticed her getting up.

“I call dibs.”

Smiling fondly, Bruce watched his children exit the dining room. Well, most of his children.

He was going to have to call Dick.

Chapter Text

The Titans had only been at the safe house for twenty minutes when the phone rang. Dick groaned from his position sprawled out over the couch, his arm flung across his face.

“Can someone else get that? If I have to move within the next three hours I may go rogue.”

It had been a long couple of days, filled with grueling recon missions and stakeouts. Somehow, Lex Luthor talked a low level gang into an elaborate money laundering scheme to hide the fact that he found a new source of kryptonite. For some reason, this became the Titans problem. So here they were, in Metropolis of all places, dealing with that mess.

And look, in theory Dick understood why the Justice League had sent them to deal with the problem. They’d be handling Kryptonite, and the Titans was the only major league team that didn’t have a Kryptonian, and the mission had too many moving parts to send only one or two heroes.

But just because Dick understood why they were there, didn’t mean he was happy about it. It was a tedious, time consuming job, filled with hours hunched over paperwork trying to find the inconsistencies in the numbers, followed by a few more hours of trailing suspects and stakeouts.

Dicks entire body ached from trailing a low level gang member over the whole city. Normally, this would be nothing for him, but after two days stuck in the same position, his muscles were stiff and did not appreciate doing what was practically a marathon without stretching.

That being said, it did lead them to the final piece of the puzzle, the warehouse where all of the Kryptonite was being stored. All that they had to do was bust it tomorrow, and then tie up any loose ends.

If all went well, Dick would be home in three or so days.

All never went well, so Dick wasn’t exactly surprised when the safe houses phone rang. Why a Justice League owned safe house had a landline Dick couldn’t tell you, but the only people who had that number were high level league members.

It was probably someone calling to say “hey, while you're there, you may as well handle this thing for us.”

As much as the Titans had proved themselves to be a strong team, they were still sometimes treated as the Justice Leagues interns.

So Dick ignored the phone call, letting someone else deal with it. Yes he was technically the leader, but he was very busy trying to melt into the cushions beneath him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, slowly unwinding. Or at least he was unwinding, before someone tapped him on the arm.

Dick removed his arm from across his face and glared up at Victor. The glare quickly fell from his face as his friend spoke.

“It’s Batman. He wants to speak with you.”

Dick felt all the colour drain from his face. Bruce never called on a mission, not unless something horrible had happened. He was the one who insisted Dick leave behind all none essential league communicators so he couldn’t be hacked, or distracted, so for him to be calling…

Dick couldn’t imagine what could've happened to prompt this.

With numb hands, Dick took the phone from Victor, who offered him a sympathetic grimace. He took a deep breath as he raised the phone to his ear.

“Batman? What’s happened?”

It was Bruce’s voice that came across the phone, not Batman’s.

“Dick. It’s your brother.”

His voice was shaky and faint, like he was out of breath or in shock, that didn’t happen often. Dick was so focused on that, that it took a moment for his words to register.

When they did, Dick’s heart dropped. He searched through the last time he had spoken to each of his brothers, trying to figure out who Bruce was referring to. Who he had lost.

Jason and Bruce were going through another tense period. From what Dick could gather, not that either of them ever spoke about what was bothering them, god forbid, it was nothing major. Bruce had been feeling extra guilty due to a recent case bringing up bad memories, and was a touch more protective (controlling) than usual. This, of course, pissed Jason off and led him to taking more risks out of spite, stressing Bruce out more. It was a fairly common spiral the two got into every now and then. If it lasted more than two weeks Alfred would sort them out, but it was always a tense couple of days.

Had Jason done something stupid to piss off Bruce? Was Dick losing him again while on a Titans mission.

But on this Titan mission he had more brothers to lose than last time.

Tim was meant to be benched from field work for another day or so while he recovered from a stab wound in his shoulder. It was mostly healed, but not quite healed enough to grapple, and no one was allowed out in the field without a proper escape route. Had his workaholic little brother ignored Bruce and Alfred’s orders and gotten himself into a bad situation? Or had he gotten sick enough that his life was in danger again.

Dick wasn’t very close to Duke by virtue of spending half his time in Blüdhaven and their conflicting vigilante schedules, but Dick still saw him as a brother. While Duke was slightly more likely to think it through before running headfirst into a dangerous situation, which in their family didn’t mean much, he still was on the day shift, with no back up.

And Damian… Dick could think of many situations where something could've happened to his youngest brother. He was going through that stubborn phase that all Robins hit at some point, where they think they know better than anyone else, and need to prove that by taking dumb risks and going into dangerous situations alone. God knows the messes Dick got himself into when he went through this phase. Tim embezzling a Batmobile was honestly tame compared to what Dick, Jason, and even Steph had pulled, although that could be because he called Bruce out on his bullshit from the start, and didn't really need to fight for independence as much because he was already on a very loose leash. The things Damian, who felt a stronger urge to prove himself to his father than any of them had had, could get himself into… And then there was everything with the league of assassins—

“-ck, come on son speak to me.”

Dick was forced back into his body by Bruce’s concerned voice. A hand held his free hand tightly, and his chest burned. He wasn’t breathing, he needed to do that. He sucked in a breath, jerking slightly at his sudden to return to his senses. The rest of the Titans had formed a loose circle around him, all looking at him in concern. A quick glance to the side showed that Wally was the one holding his hand, the speedsters leg bouncing up and down so fast it was a blur.

“Bruce,” he breathed, voice coming out strained.

“Dick, chum, I’m sorry, I should’ve worded that better.”

A short, incredulous, laugh burst from Dick, although whether it was in agreement with Bruce’s statement or because of the fact that Bruce just apologised for something, he wasn’t sure.

“Dick, Percy’s come home.”

The phone fell to the floor.

Distantly, Dick registered Victor picking up the phone and speaking, but he couldn’t make out any of the individual words. His brain was stuck on a panicked loop of just his little brother’s name.

He blinked, and then Wally was in front of him. Both of his hands were on Dicks shoulder, and he was speaking so fast that Dick faintly wondered if anyone could understand him.

Another blink and Kaldur was in front of him, speaking in low soothing tones. The next blink brought Dick mostly back to the real world. Everything was still somewhat dimmer than normal, but he could process what was going on around him.

“Are you alright?” Kaldur asked once he saw Dicks eyes focus on him.

Dick attempted to give him a reassuring smile, but he was sure it didn’t land.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine. It was just a shock.”

Kaldur nodded, aware of Dicks propensity to just shut down when overwhelmed.

“I’m sure it was. It’s been a while since you’ve seen Perseus, hasn’t it?”

There was a weird look in his friends eyes when he spoke about his brother, there always was when Percy came up. Also, Dick was ninety percent sure he had never called Percy by his full name, and yet Kaldur had always referred to him exclusively as Perseus.

It used to bug Dick, but it had been happening for so long that it had faded into the background, and honestly Dick was too tired to care at this point.

“Yeah…” Dick trailed off. Of course Percy had to come home the week Dick was on a mission. It would be torture knowing that his little brother was in reach for the first time in years, but Dick wouldn’t be able to see him for days.

“Don’t worry,” Wally said as he entered the living room from the kitchen. “We told Batman you’d be home tomorrow night.”

“What? But the mission-”

Kaldur cut him off by placing a hand on his arm.

“It's okay. After the bust tomorrow you can go home. We’ll handle everything else.”

Dick closed his eyes, sighing in relief and gratefulness.

“Thank you,” he murmured, ready to fall asleep right there on the couch, the events of the day finally catching up to him.

“Now come one, I brought Pizza. You can sleep after.”

There was something wrong with this ‘Percy’ character.
Damian wasn’t cocky enough to say that no one should be able to disarm him as smoothly as he had, but an alleged civilian definitely shouldn't have been able to. Especially not when he had no reason to know that Damian was armed in the first place.

He studied Perseus as they were all shepherded out of the dining room like a pack of unruly dogs. He stood like a fighter, not like a soldier or assassin, but a fighter. Like someone who was used to being the underdog in the fight, but winning anyway. Like someone ready to move at a moments notice. He was covered in many scars, far too many for a civilian, but what particularly drew Damian’s attention were his hands. He had the callouses of a swordsman.

Just who was Perseus?

The others had mentioned his supposed cousin in passing, but rarely with any details. It was generally senselessly sentimental comments, often along the lines of “I wish Percy was here,” or “this was Percy’s favourite.”

Damian had never understood why the family wasted so much time and emotion on someone who wasn’t present, and wasn’t even a fellow vigilante, not when there was a superior replacement. Every time they mentioned him with such longing when Damian was right in front of them, something in Damian’s chest shriveled slightly.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, it also sprung up in relation to Drake, but at least with Drake he could understand. He had been Robin, was practically a genius, not that Damian would admit it out loud, and most of all, actually present.

From what Damian knew, Perseus was just a plain old civilian who was stupid enough to go missing, and the only reason he had a place in his Fathers heart in the first place is through blood relation.

He really needed to get a last name, he refused to continue to refer to the interloper by his first.

Of course there was the unfortunate possibility that Wayne was his surname, in which case Damian would have to find a substitute as there were already two, superior, Waynes. Since his mother was Bruce’s sister, there was a chance he went by his fathers last name.

Damian had attempted to research him of course, but the family never reffered to him by his full name, and the batcomputer didn’t have anything on a ‘Perseus Wayne.’ The only reason Damian knew his full first name was because he overheard a conversation between Pennyworth and someone on the phone one day not long after he’d gone missing.

So Damian would have to do his own research.

Instead of heading into the family room with everyone else, Damian walked into the kitchen. Inside, Pennyworth was stirring the contents of a saucepan. His back was to the entrance, but Damian knew he could tell he was there.

“Pennyworth.”

The butler turned away from the stove to look at Damian.

“Yes master Damian?”

“What is Perseus’ last name?” Damian cut to the chase. The thing he respected most about Pennyworth was his ability to answer questions short and to the point, without attempting to ask why he was asking or distract him onto something else.

“Jackson. Miss Sally took the last name of the couple who raised her, and passed it on to Percy.”

Damian remembered Alfred mentioning the Jacksons at dinner, but he had had no reason to think that that would be his cousins last name. He supposed it made sense that his aunt would adopt the name of the people who raised her, although Damian couldn’t understand not wanting the last name Wayne.

“He doesn’t use his fathers last name?”

Alfred paused briefly.

“Miss Sally and Master Percy’s father weren’t married, and he was out of the picture before Percy was born.”

Damian nodded, filing the information away for future use.

“Thank you for your assistance Pennyworth.”

Damian turned to walk out of the kitchen, but Alfred stopped him.

“Before you head down to the batcave, would you like a cookie?”

He gestured to a plate of chocolate chip cookies on one of the counters. For some, most likely inane, reason they were blue like the pasta sauce.

Damian would ask, but he was fairly certain he wouldn't care, and besides, he had much more important questions to answer. He did grab a cookie however, before heading down to the cave. It was pointless for Damian to speculate on how Pennyworth knew he was going to the cave. Pennyworth knew everything that happened in the Manor after all.

Damian quickly made his way down to the cave and in front of the massive computer. He inputted his login, and searched for Percy Jackson.

Unsurprisingly, Bruce had a file on him like he did all of his children. It was hidden behind a password, but the password on Bruce’s personal files were always easy to guess. It was always one of his children’s birthdays. The trick was figuring out which of them it was. Damian cycled through them until the file unlocked with Jason’s birthday. In hindsight that made sense, Jason and Percy were adopted at similar times from what Damian knew.

He quickly opened the file, skimming through its contents, getting more and more concerned with every line.

What on earth was father thinking letting him into their home?

Duke wasn’t really sure how he felt about Percy.

He seemed nice enough, and Jason, Tim, and Cass seemed to love him. Bruce also loved him, but Bruce wasn’t a good indication of whether a child was a good person. He would love a serial killer as long as they were under the age of 20 and had a tragic backstory.

Percy’s actions were all normal. He smiled and joked with the rest of the family, and definitely seemed like he belonged. Apart from the whole disarming Damian thing, Percy just seemed like a regular teenager.

In theory, Duke had no reason not to like him. And he did like him, but there was just something about him. Something about him screamed danger. Whether it was the look in his eyes or the way he held himself, Duke wasn’t sure, but it was definitely something.

The way his face hardened when Bruce asked him where he’d been was unnerving to say the least. And then when he’d turned his attention on Duke, it felt like being stared down by a predator. He’d only asked a simple question, but the weight of his attention was as heavy as Batman’s on a bad day. It was like Duke was an ant, and Percy was a human debating whether or not to squash him.

So, needless to say, Duke was a bit unnerved. None of the others seemed to notice as they crowded around him.

Duke, Tim, Percy, Cass, and Jason had moved into the family room.

Percy was sitting in the centre of the big blue couch, with Jason on one side, Cass on the other, and Tim sprawled at his feet. Bruce had gone to call Dick, and god only knows what Damian was doing.

Duke himself was sitting on an armchair a respectful distance away. Enough that he didn’t feel like he had the pressure of the ocean surrounding him, but he didn’t look like he was avoiding them.

He was sure he’d get used to Percy’s presence, he’d gotten used to a lot of crazy things over the last year after all.

Cass caught his eye and tilted her head. She clearly saw his slight discomfort as she smiled sympathetically.

“Tim. Switch,” she said, standing up. Tim looked at her oddly, but did as she said. She placed herself at Percy’s feet, sitting cross legged.

“Braid,” she said as she grabbed Percy’s hands from behind her and placed them on her head.

Percy laughed brightly.

“One or two?”

“Surprise me.”

Percy nodded and began separating Cass’s hair.

With her hands out of view of the others, she began signing.

“They can’t tell. Grew up with him. Used to it.”

Duke nodded. He was in full view of the others so he couldn't sign back, but he tilted his head, hoping she would understand.

“Won’t hurt us. Protective.”

Not quite what Duke was asking. He was more wondering why their allegedly civilian brother currently seemed like the biggest threat in the room. Duke tried a shrugging motion before nodding towards Percy, trying to ask why he was like that.

Cass scrunched her nose.

“Don’t know. He’s weird.”

Weird seemed like an understatement if even Cass didn't know why.

“What do you see?” Cass asked.

That was a good question actually. Duke had gotten so used to being able to turn his extra vision off, he sometimes forgot it was an option.

Everyone had auras, but some were different, and that could say a lot about a person.

Duke closed his eyes and mentally flipped a switch, before opening them again. It took a second for his mind to adjust, but when they did, his vision was filled with an influx of information.

The others’ Auras were the same. Tim’s ice blue bleeding into red the closer it got to his chest, Jason’s fiery red and orange, wrapped in a sickening green, and Cass’s deep purple, with edges that seemed to ripple like shadows.

Percy’s could almost be considered normal. It was blue like Tim’s, but a deeper blue, and shimmered like sunlight over the water. It rippled in time with what Duke was assuming to be Percy’s heart rate.

It would’ve been fairly normal, if not for the giant fucking trident floating above his head. The trident itself was green, but a deeper blue glow emanated from it.

“Duke? What are you doing?” Tim asked as he noticed Duke staring.

Percy was looking at him questioningly, with a slight tension in his frame.

It was probably better to go with the truth. His abilities were common knowledge amongst the family, so Percy would find out eventually.

“I’m a meta. I see light differently, so I can see peoples auras. I was just curious what yours would look like.” A massive oversimplification, but the default answer he gave.

Percy’s expression cleared, and suddenly a weight Duke didn’t originally notice disappeared. It was like the difference between stepping out of the pool, a pressure that you had grown accustomed to until you got out of the water and suddenly felt much lighter.

“Oh totally fair. If I could do that I’d be looking at everyone's auras all of the time.”

That was definitely one of the better reactions to people finding out his abilities. Outright hate for Metas wasn’t as common as it used to be, but Duke was very used to suspicion and passive aggressive comments. Percy’s reaction was actually positive.

Although now he had an expression similar to that of a dog who sees food and isn't sure whether it’s allowed to eat it.

“You can ask,” Duke said with a laugh.

“Oh thank the gods. I didn’t want to be rude, but also if someone says they can see your aura and then doesn’t elaborate it’s like saying oh I have a cool secret and I’m not gonna tell you.”

Looking at him bounce on the couch, Duke was starting wonder how this guy was as intimidating as he was.

“Yours kinda looks like the top of a large body of water.”

Percy nodded, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

Then, out of a combination of curiosity and a general attitude of ‘Fuck around and find out’ Duke continued.

“Also there’s a giant glowing trident above your head.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Percy’s face, but no confusion. Like he knew what it was, but not why it was there.

“Huh. Weird.”

“Have you ever seen anything like that before Duke?” Tim asked.

Duke shook his head.

“Not that I can think of.”

“I wonder what that’s about,” Tim mused, looking at Percy.

Percy shrugged very unconvincingly.

“Anything you want to share with the class Percy?” Jason asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah I’m good.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Alfred came in with a tray of drinks.

Duke hadn’t switched off his vision at this point, so he saw Alfred’s golden Aura. And above his head was a faint yellow sun, fainter than Percy’s trident, but definitely present. Alfred’s entire body was engulfed in a flickering fire, but it didn't seem to be aggressive, more like it was protecting him.

“Is everything alright Master Duke?” Alfred asked as he handed him a mug. Duke shook his head to clear his shock, switching off his extra vision.

“Yeah. Just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Alfred nodded, although Duke had a feeling that he didn't quite believe him.

“Well I suggest you all head to bed after finishing your drinks, it's getting late.”

Everyone said their thanks, then Alfred left.

The weird thing was, Duke couldn’t remember ever seeing Alfred's aura before. Surely he would’ve, but when he tried to think back on it it was all fuzzy.

“You sure you're okay?” Tim asked.

Duke nodded.

“Yeah, just thinking about something.”

Tim hummed and then turned away, leaving Duke to his thoughts.

Chapter Text

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Percy did not sleep well that night. Not that he slept well most nights, insane amounts of trauma tended to do that to a person, so he’d been told, but this was worse than normal. Truthfully, he didn't think he slept at all.

As familiar as his bedroom looked, it no longer sounded familiar. The manor had intense soundproofing in most of the rooms, so Percy’s room was completely silent. To Percy, and literally every other halfblood, silence meant danger. Silence meant that something bigger had come to scare away all the wildlife. Silence meant the calm before the battle. Silence meant something bad was about to happen, and even the air itself knew it.

Camp half blood was never quiet, not even at night. His cabin always had the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore, and more often than not Annabeth slept with him in his cabin, so he could hear her breathing. Yes there were technically rules against that, but, for one, everyone knew that rules didn't really apply to most cabin councillors, and especially not Percy or Annabeth, and for another after the third time they’d awoken screaming from nightmares, Mr D had gotten sick of it and basically told them to do whatever it takes as long as it meant he didn’t have to deal with it.

His bedroom at his mom and Paul’s apartment was never silent either. The walls were paper thin, so Percy could always hear Paul’s snoring, and the sounds of New York filtered in through his window.

Wayne manor had none of those little comforts, only the stifling sound of Percy’s slightly raspy breathing for hours on end.

Needless to say, Percy was getting a little restless by the time Jason knocked on his door in the morning.

“Up and attem Percy,” Jason called from the other side of the door as he knocked incessantly. “Suns up so you should be as well.”

Percy rolled his eyes and gave himself a mental countdown of five before he made himself get out of bed and face his obnoxious big brother.

He opened the door to face Jason with a scowl.

“Wow. Someone slept on the wrong side of a bed,” it was teasing but Percy could hear the underlying concern in Jason’s voice.

“Since when are you a morning person?” Percy grumbled.

“Since I figured out how annoying it would be to Tim and Damian.”

Yeah, that sounded about right. Percy just sighed, and started walking down the hallway.

“God I’m hungry. I wonder what Alfie’s cooked up,” Jason mused.

Percy hummed in agreement, even if he wasn’t hungry himself. He hadn’t redeveloped his hunger signals since Tartarus, even if he was able to eat full meals again most of the time. Last nights pasta had sat heavily in his stomach, but he’d kept it down, which was much more than could be said for the first month after the war was over. But he still felt uncomfortably full, so breakfast may not be on the cards for him.

Percy and Jason were the first to reach the kitchen, implying to Percy that Jason had dragged him out of bed earlier than necessary. Technically it's not like he woke him up, but it was the principal of the thing. They took their seats at the dining table, and Percy immediately put his head down on the table, ignoring Jason laughing at him.

“Good morning Master Jason, Master Percy,” Alfred called out from somewhere behind him.

Percy slowly raised his head, and turned to face him.

Percy could see the barest hint of amusement on Alfred’s face.

“Morning Alfred.”

Alfred just placed a mug of coffee in front of Jason and a cup of water in front of Percy.

“Pancakes will be served in a moment. Do try to be awake to eat them.”

Percy ignored Jason’s snorting in favour of taking a long drink of water.

While he was drinking, Cass walked into the room. She also looked obnoxiously awake, but less obnoxious purely by nature of being Cass.

“Morning!” She chirped. Percy just grunted and lifted a hand up. Laughing, Cass walked over to hug first Jason, then Percy, before taking her seat.

Tim and Duke came in next, Duke literally pulling Tim along as he walked with his eyes closed.

“Dukes on making sure Tim eats food duty this week,” Jason whispered to him. “We’ll make sure to add you to the roster.”

If he hadn’t spent so much time with Annabeth and the rest of the Athena cabin, Percy would need to question that. But instead he was very familiar with people who got so focused on something they forgot about simple concepts like the passage of time. Tim hadn’t quite been bad enough to need a roster when he was last here, but it was not surprising he’d gotten to that point.

Tim immediately put his face down on the table and went back to sleep after sitting, and Percy was just grateful that at least he wasn’t that bad.

Duke smiled and nodded at him politely, and Percy returned the gesture. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Duke yet. It was a little unnerving that he could see things about Percy that Percy couldn't see himself. Fucking cool, don’t get him wrong, but unnerving. He still hadn’t quite processed the fact that he still had the floating trident from his claiming. Could anyone else see what Duke could, and how much exactly could he see?

“Hey Duke,” Percy began.

“Yeah?”

“Can you see the shrimp colours?”

Jason had just taken a sip of his coffee, and had to raise a hand to his mouth to stop it from bursting out as he laughed.

Duke blinked before grinning.

“I mean, I’ve never spoken with a shrimp to confirm that it’s the same, but I think so?”

Yeah okay, Percy liked Duke.

“Sweet. I would ask you to describe them but somehow I dont think that would be helpful.”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve tried to explain colours that other people can’t see. It never works.”

Percy would need to arrange a conversation between Duke and a mantis shrimp at somepoint with him acting as translator. Although, that might be difficult without revealing his abilities. Not that Percy thought he was going to keep them secret for long, it was frankly a miracle that he lasted as well as he did before the war. While in theory his control had improved a lot in the last few years, he still had some… accidents. Nothing as drastic as flooding the camp toilets, but he had been known to burst a pipe every now and then. There were only so many times a pipe could break around him for no reason before people started getting suspicious, and in this household that was only one.

Him and Annabeth had created a cover story that could work last night (mostly Annabeth, let’s face it, Percy had never been good with cover stories.) But he was still anxious.

“You good?” Duke asked from across the table. Percy blinked, remembering that they were in the middle of a conversation before he zoned out.

“Sorry,” he said, putting on a self deprecating smile. “I’m not a morning person.”

“At least you're conscious,” Duke said, nodding towards Tim.

Before the following silence could get awkward, Bruce entered. He was somewhere between Percy and Tim on the spectrum of wakefulness, but he seemed to wake up more when he saw Percy.

“Percy.”

Okay how many times were they going to do this. Bruce was meant to be the worlds greatest detective, he should not be struggling this much.

“We’ve established that.”

Bruce blinked, clearly trying to wake himself up.

“I’m just surprised you’re here.”

Percy raised an eyebrow.

“At breakfast,” Bruce specified. With all the social grace of a concussed elephant, he continued.

“You were never a morning person.”

Duke bit his lip and looked away, struggling not to laugh. Jason had his head in his hands and was mutering something that probably wasn’t very complimentary.

Cass reached over and gently patted Bruce on the arm.

“No more talking until after coffee,” she suggested.

“Good idea.”

Bruce sighed heavily and sat down, taking another long drink from his mug.

Alfred came in and started placing plates with pancakes and cut up fruit in the centre of the table. The pancakes, of course, were blue.

Percy still wasn't feeling hungry, but he put two pancakes onto his plate anyway. It was the polite thing to do after Alfred had made them blue. Next he reached for the maple syrup, before coating his pancakes in it.

“Jesus,” Jason muttered from beside him. “I forgot how much sugar you eat.”

Percy laughed, although it felt a bit thin as he pushed back the thought that he didn’t eat as much sugar anymore.

Bruce suddenly looked up, studying the table.

“Where’s Damian? He’s normally one of the first awake.”

“I believe the young master said he would wait until everyone else was present before entering, as he had something of consequence to discuss,” Alfred said mildly as he placed a bowl of berry compote.

Bruce looked like he was developing a headache.

“Oh good.”

Well, whatever this was would be entertaining.

“What’s he waiting for? We're all here,” Jason asked. Before anyone could answer, Damian stormed into the room, a stack of paper and photos in his hands.

“Father. I demand and explanation!” He slammed the papers onto the table.

Bruce sighed heavily.

“About?”

“Why would you let a criminal,” he sent a nasty glare in Percy’s direction, “into our home!”

“It’s his home too Damian” Bruce said tiredly.

“Also, technically we’re all criminals,” Duke pointed out. Damian glared at him, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Jackson is a terrorist!”

Jason turned to him with a raised eyebrow, not in judgement, but curiousity. Percy probably should’ve felt more than vague amusement at being accused of terrorism, but it was something he was fairly used to.

“All charges were dropped,” he replied, calmly spooning some berry compote onto his pancakes. He didn't even like berry compote, but he figured it would make the kid mad, and it did.

“That's old news,” Tim muttered, apparently finally awake.

“What the fuck?” Jason asked.

Percy just shrugged, not really wanting to get into it.

“It was a whole thing back from the first time I was properly kidnapped. The dude who was behind it framed me.”

Not technically true, but it lined up with the story Bruce and all the other mortals knew.

“I repeat, what the fuck? The first time you were kidnapped?”

“Yeah. That was a wild few weeks.”

Across from him, Tim snorted.

“That’s one way to put it. B was going crazy looking for you. He called in the Justice league and everything.”

While that wasn’t technically new information, it still felt weird to hear.

“How do you know that? You weren’t even Robin yet?” Percy asked.

Tim blushed and looked away.

“Yes Tim, I’d also like to know that,” Bruce asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“This is not the time to discuss Drakes stalker habits,” Damian cut in. “He’s clearly lying to us!”

There was an edge of irritation to Percy’s amusement at this point, kind of like when you watched a dog get the zoomies and run around like an idiot, but you knew you’d have to clean up the mess later.

“Damian, I investigated the case myself. He’s telling the truth.”

Percy was 90% sure Hecate herself had to shape the mist surrounding the cover story for it to be able to fool Bruce.

“But-”

“Damian,” Bruce said lowly, “drop it. Your brother is not a terrorist, he was a victim of a nationwide kidnapping and man hunt.”

With every word Jason got tenser and tenser beside him, but Percy would deal with that later, first he had to put out this fire.

“Besides, do you really think a twelve year old could blow up the St Luis Arch?”

Jason sucked in a breath behind him, but Percy ignored it in favour of continuing.

“Especially me at twelve. I was a pathetic twelve year old. Totally not capable of the destruction of a monument.”

“That’s true,” Tim chimed in. “It was kinda sad.”

Percy shot him a look, but Tim just smiled back.

Damian still looked skeptical, but he seemed like he was buying what he was saying. And Percy wasn’t lying. He wasn’t the one who blew up the arch, he just may have been a contributing factor.

“Fine. If we’re not allowed to discuss that incident, there are others.”

Percy raised his eyebrows. He was fairly certain the mist had covered up the rest of his quests. Nothing else should have been on the bats radar.

“Damian…” Bruce sighed, putting his head in his hands.

“It's okay Bruce, I kinda wanna see where he’s going with this.”

Taking Bruce’s resigned silence as permission, Damian brought out a thick Manila folder from somewhere in the stack of papers. An incredibly familiar folder. A folder Bruce was forced to bring out time and time again, to bring with him to meetings with various school.

Based on the choked snort from Jason, his brother recognised it too.

“Throughout his entire academic career, as short as it may be-” Okay, that was just rude “- Jackson has been the perpetrator of a series of crimes.”

Percy thought that was a bit of an exaggeration.

“First was a series of expulsions for petty incidents, getting into fights, stealing.”

“The fights I’ll own up to,” he admitted. They all deserved it anyway, stuck up bastards. “The thefts I was framed for.”

Damian continued, ignoring him.

“Then it escalated. Dropping his entire class in a shark tank.”

“It was a ‘pull the lever kronk’ situation, just with sharks instead of alligators. Besides, the sharks were the real victims in the situation.”

Across from him, Tim snorted, juice coming out of his nose. Damian’s eye twitched.

“Then he destroyed a school bus.”

“Okay in my defence, who leaves a loaded canon around a bunch of fifth graders. Everyone here would do the same.”

Cass shot him a look.

“Apart from Cass.”

“He burnt down a school gymnasium.”

“I was in a school gymnasium when some idiots decided to play dodgeball with flaming dodgeballs. I dodged.”

Bruce’s head was in his hands as he sighed deeply.

“He then proceeded to escalating into exploding a music room.”

“Okay I had absolutely no part in that one.”

“And finally, he dropped out in sophomore year.”

“So that’s what we’re calling being kidnapped and held against your will by a psycho for ten months,” he muttered. Again, not quite the truth, but close enough.

“As you can see, Jackson has lead a chaotic life with an academic record that would put even Todd to shame. He should not be allowed in this family, and certainly not in this house.”

That could’ve gone worse. Damian didn’t uncover anything that Bruce and the rest of the family didn't know.

“Excuse you, I was an excellent student,” Jason said.

“That’s the part of that you have an issue with?” Percy asked, mildly offended.

Jason shrugged.

“You were a menace.”

“Thanks for the solidarity.”

The pancakes on his plate had long since disintegrated, but Percy forced himself to take a bite. As interesting as the texture was, they still tasted amazing, so he had another. By the third bite, they were sitting so heavy in his stomach that he had to take slow sips of water to recover from the lead brick sitting inside of him.

The table had gone quiet, everyone more or less ignoring Damian’s presentation. Damian was fuming, Percy could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Percy,” Bruce started, finally finished with his coffee. Percy didn’t bother to acknowledge him, knowing that Bruce would continue no matter what.

“Your brother is coming home tonight. He’s excited to see you.”

The ‘you’re expected to stay at least until dinner’ went unspoken, as so many things did in this family.

Percy rolled his eyes, before it hit him who Bruce was talking about.

Percy only had one other brother on Bruce’s side of the family.

Dick was coming home, and Percy wasn’t sure if he was ready to see him.

Chapter Text

After breakfast, Percy had hoped to escape to his room for a few hours to try and fail to sort through his emotions about the situation, give up on that, and call Annabeth. Of course, Percy never got what he wanted. He had just stood up when Bruce grabbed his arm and pulled him into the kitchen. While forceful, the action wasn’t aggressive, so Percy waved Jason off when he went to intercept. 

Percy followed Bruce into the kitchen, responding to Alfred’s raised eyebrow with a slight shake of his head. He could handle a conversation with Bruce without backup. Probably. 

Bruce awkwardly leaned against the counter, clearing his throat. 

“Yes?” 

“I’m sorry. About Damian.” 

Percy resisted the urge to sigh. For a second he thought Bruce was going to apologise for one of the many things he actually needed to apologise for. But no, of course not. Instead he apologised for his son reacting fairly normally to a strange person showing up and claiming to be family. 

“He’s a good kid, he’s just not good with new people,” Bruce continued, making Percy roll his eyes. Like Bruce was so much better with new people.

“He’s fine. It’s understandable that he’s suspicious. I would be too in his place.” 

Bruce’s expression twitched subtly, and Percy couldn’t be bothered to decode what it meant. If Bruce wanted him to know something, he’d have to do the grown up thing and tell him. 

“But he has no reason to be suspicious. Right?”

Yep. There was the interrogation. 

Percy turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen without another word, making sure Bruce saw his annoyed expression. 

He was not dealing with that mess at eight thirty in the morning. 

Or ever, preferably, but Percy wasn’t naive enough to think that Bruce would let him get away indefinitely without an explanation. 

Jason was waiting by the doorway to the kitchen, likely eavesdropping. 

“So,” he started, falling into step with Percy. “I feel like, as your big brother I’m obligated to ask. Did you blow up the St Louis Arc?” 

Percy fought to keep his expression neutral instead of snorting. He tilted his hand in a ‘so-so’ gesture. 

“I was a contributing factor.”

Jason just nodded, no judgement on his face, and, based off of the things Percy had heard about Red Hood, he couldn't judge. 

“Care to elaborate?” 

Percy shrugged.

“I kind of had no say in the matter. When someone with explosives corners you on the top floor of a national monument, you’re kinda fucked.”

That made Jason pause, a look of concern overtaking his face.

“I- god Perce. You were twelve?”

The conversation was veering into dangerous territory now. Feelings and shit. Horrifying. No Percy did not sound like Bruce.

“Yeah. Um. It was about two months after, well, you know.”

They had stopped walking in the middle of the hallway now.

Jason looked like he was struggling to process everything, face cycling through grief, concern, anger, and guilt.

“You were at the top when it happened?” Jason asked, pain heavy in his voice.

Ah shit. Jason had died in an explosion. Hearing that his younger brother had been caught in one just two months after his death probably wasn’t doing great things for his mental health. 

“…No.” 

He took just a second too long to respond, plus Percy had never been a very convincing liar. 

Jason’s face hardened. 

“I'm going to kill him.” He turned back towards the kitchen. 

Percy sighed, catching him by the arm.

“Can you at least wait a few days before screaming at Bruce on my behalf.”

Jason glowered.

“Don’t protect him. Losing one child can be excused, almost losing another the exact same way not even three months later cannot.”

In Bruce’s defence, as much as Percy hated to admit it, the mythical bullshit was out of Bruce’s control. His first quest was going to happen no matter what. Jason’s death however, could not be excused. But Percy couldn’t tell Jason the first thing and the second felt like adding a gallon of gasoline onto a forest fire. 

Percy tried to diffuse the situation, feeling Jason’s anger radiate off of him in waves in a way he’d only ever felt around Ares.

“I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve it. Gods know that man has fucked up many times in many creative ways. I’m just saying wait a few days. Get all the ammunition instead of having to keep going back for more.”

The tension in the room reached a breaking point, and Jason screamed through his teeth, punching a wall. 

Time was frozen. Until it wasn’t. Until Jason turned away from the wall towards Percy. Until Percy flinched. 

The only sounds in the hallway were Jason’s hard breathing and Percy’s thundering heartbeat. It took a few beats for Percy to relax his hand from its position next to his pocket. 

It wasn’t- it was just Jason. He didn’t need a weapon. 

Hurt flickered across Jason’s face, quickly followed by regret.

He knew better than anyone in the family about why Percy had been sent to live with Bruce. About his mom’s ass of an ex husband. About Gabe and what he’d done.

No matter how many times Percy had saved the world, or stared down literal Gods, sometimes he still felt like that scared little boy staring up at his first monster. 

“Percy, I-”

Percy cut him off, shaking his head. His throat was too full of emotion for him to speak yet, but he knew that Jason wasn’t a threat. Not to him at least. 

He did pity whatever poor souls RedHood came across on his next patrol. 

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. But it also was. 

Jason exhaled heavily, still looking guilty. He turned away from Percy, one hand pressed against his face and the other on the wall, breathing heavily. 

Percy just stood there, brain trying and failing to process what he’d just seen. Yes Jason had had a bit of a temper when they were kids—nothing compared to Dick— but it was never so explosive. And he always made sure that it never impacted anyone else. He’d spent too long on the street, seeing how vulnerable people were subject to violence due to short tempers. 

This was unlike the Jason Percy knew, and he didn’t know how to react.

Jason sighed, long and hard, dragging a hand down his face.

“Look. I need to go into Gotham for a bit. I left in the middle of some things yesterday, and I need to deal with some things before I can take a break. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow.”

Somehow Percy doubted it was that urgent, but he understood that Jason needed some space to let off some steam. 

“Yeah. Okay.”

Jason nodded. He moved towards Percy before stopping, like he was considering hugging him and then thought better of it.

“Right, well I’m gonna go.”

He awkwardly turned around and walked away from Percy, despite that being the opposite way he needed to go to leave the house.

“See ya I guess.”

At some point after his interaction with Jason, Tim had found him and dragged him into the family room with Duke and Cass to watch movies. 

They put on some action movie that he had never heard of, but Percy absorbed none of it. He wasn’t even forming coherent thoughts to distract himself, just a hundred overlapping half sentences. They cued up another movie, then another. 

At some point Percy had ended up with Tim leaning on him on one side and Cass pressed up against his legs on the floor. The pressure was grounding, and by the end of the third movie Percy was somewhat mentally present. 

As the credits rolled, Tim checked the time on his phone. 

“Okay it’s about five minutes until dinner, we should make our way to the dining room.”

Percy blinked. He hadn’t thought that much time had passed since breakfast. Weird. 

Cass removed herself from Percy’s legs, which was appreciated, as his feet appeared to have gone numb at some point. Attempting to shake off the pins and needles, Percy stood, remarkably less gracefully than his sister. 

The group made their way to the dining room, and it was only when Percy reached the doorway that he remembered who would be waiting for him on the other side. 

“Oh! I just remembered I left something in the other room, i’m gonna go…” He turned on his heel, ready to flee, but Tim grabbed his arm.

“Oh no you don’t. We’re going in there and having dinner.”

Percy sighed. It was worth a shot. 

Tim dragged him into the dining room. Percy was so focussed on not tripping over his numb feet that it wasn’t until he was deposited beside his seat that he looked up and saw his older brother. 

Dick looked pretty similar to the last time Percy had seen him. He’d gotten rid of the mullet, thank the gods, and had a cut on his cheek, but apart from that, he looked exactly the same. Oh, apart from the fact that he was looking at Percy like he was something precious, that had certainly never happened before.

Percy just kinda stood there as Dick stared at him, unsure what the appropriate reaction would be. 

Finally, Dick moved towards Percy, slow at first, before rapidly crossing the distance between them. He paused right in front of him, like he was making sure he was real, before crushing Percy in a hug. 

He awkwardly placed his head against Percy’s shoulder, which was difficult considering Dick was only slightly taller than Percy. 

“Percy. I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

Percy slowly raised his arms from beside his side to stiffly return the hug. 

“I was such a jerk.”

Not one to pass up an opportunity, and needing something to diffuse the emotional tension, Percy responded.

“You were a massive dick.”

Dick laughed wetly, and Percy realised he was crying. He really wasn't the one who should be dealing with this. He had the emotional intelligence of a caffeinated toddler, and still wasn’t even sure how he felt about Dick. 

The hug had been going on for uncomfortably long now, and Percy didn’t know how to pull away. 

Thankfully, Bruce came in a second later, interrupting Dick’s stream of apologies.

“Ah Dick, I see you’re home.” Bruce really was on a run for stating the obvious today.

Seemingly reluctantly, Dick pulled away, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah. I’ve got at least the next week off work and the Titans will handle anything that’s not an emergency.”

For Hades sake, was everyone taking time off work for him? First Jason and now Dick. Percy turned to Tim, who hadn’t taken his seat yet.

“Please tell me you haven’t also taken time off work.”

Tim laughed, shaking his head. 

“No, the board members tend to get annoyed when their 17 year old boss takes time off.”

“And god knows you never have time off,” Dick muttered from beside Percy. 

“Besides,” Tim continued, ignoring Dick’s commentary. “People would get suspicious if too many Wayne’s started taking time off of work.”

Ugh. Percy had forgotten about that side of being in this family. Bruce had tried to shield him from the press as much as possible when he was young, but the press had always been particularly curious about the missing Wayne daughter, and that extended to her son. They had gotten even more interested in him after the shitshow that was his first quest. 

When the news got out that he was back… maybe Percy could sic Mrs O’Leary on them.

“About that,” Bruce said as he took his seat. Dick seemed to take that as his cue to sit down, as he moved to take his place across from Percy. 

“We need to discuss what we’re going to say to the press about your return.”

Making a noise of disgust, Percy also took his seat. 

“Who said anything about return?”

Bruce’s expression fell minutely.

“I assumed that since you didn’t state otherwise, you would be staying indefinitely.”

Of course he did. He wasn't exactly wrong, but still. It annoyed Percy that Bruce would just assume he was staying, without even having a conversation about it.

“You’re not staying?” Tim asked frowning. Cass turned to him, pouting and really pulling out the puppy dog eyes. Even Dick looked like he might start crying again.

Percy sighed. 

“I'm staying. For now.”

Cass beamed at him, and Tim smiled softly. Percy resolutely did not look at Dick.

“And that is good to hear, Master Percy,” Alfred said as he carried in a plate of roast beef and vegetables. 

He served the food, before heading back to the kitchen. 

“Where’s Dami?” Dick asked. Looking around the table, Percy saw that Damian was the only one not present.

“I told him if he couldn't be civil during mealtimes, he should eat in his room.”

Percy rolled his eyes. 

“It’s fine Bruce. I can handle a moody 13 year old.” Especially one who couldn’t even summon skeleton armies. 

Dick sighed.

“I take it he hasn’t reacted well to Percy’s arrival?”

Okay, they were just ignoring Percy then. 

He sighed, serving himself a small slice of beef and a few beans. His stomach had somewhat recovered from breakfast, but he wasn’t eager to push his luck. 

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Tim said. “He only tried to stab him once!” 

Dick sighed. 

“It’s fine. Lots of people try to stab me,” Percy chimed in helpfully.

Somehow, Dick didnt look reassured. 

Bruce pinched his brow.

“Let’s just eat. We’ll talk later.”

Percy shrugged and stabbed his food with his fork.

“So Percy, how have you been?” Dick asked casually.

Percy raised his eyebrow.

“Oh you know. Apart from the whole kidnapping thing I’ve been great. Took up scrapbooking.”

Tim snorted. Dick winced, seemingly realising what a stupid question that was.

“Right. Um. Are you still friends with Annabeth?” 

Percy almost choked on his green bean.

“Yeah Percy. How’s Annabeth,” Tim asked, like the little shit he was. 

Percy glared at him, and Tim just smiled back.

“Yes,” he said through grit teeth. “Annabeth and I are still friends.”

“Really? Because last time we talked I thought you and her were getting a little friendlier than friends.” 

Percy was going to kill Tim. Slowly and painfully. 

Dicks head whipped from Tim to Percy, a massive grin on his face. 

“Oh really?”

Percy groaned, burying his head in his hands. 

“Can we not?”

“Annabeth?” Bruce asked. “Annabeth Chase?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

That made Percy raise his head to glare at Bruce. 

“You are not looking into her. You are leaving her alone.”

“I have every right to look into my children’s partners. Especially ones with such a concerning history.”

Percy resisted the urge to bang his head into the table. 

“Bruce, I mean it. Leave Annabeth alone, or I’m out.”

“That’s an overreaction.”

Percy shook his head.

“No. If you're not going to respect my boundaries on this, you’re not likely to anywhere else. I’ve lived like that before. I won’t do it again.”

Percy and Bruce were locked in a staring contest, and Percy wasn’t going to be the one to look away first. Bruce may be stubborn, but Percy was of the Sea, the tides didn't change for anyone. 

After an uncomfortable amount of time, Bruce looked away.

“Fine. I will hold off on looking into her, for now.”

That was probably as good as Percy was going to get, so he nodded and went back to his food. Tim whistled lowly.

“I forgot how stubborn you are.”

Percy just smirked.

The rest of the meal passed in only mildly uncomfortable silence. 

Dick tried to start a few more conversations, but they all fizzled out fairly quickly. 

When everyone was finished, Alfred collected their plates.

“If you would all like to move to the sitting room, I have prepared some hot chocolate.”

Percy honestly just wanted to go to his room, but he let Cass and Tim pull him along into the sitting room.

“Wow, Alfred’s hot chocolate two nights in a row. Estranged family members should come home more often,” Duke said, trailing along behind them. Despite himself, Percy snorted. At least his homecoming was going well for someone.

Chapter Text

The sitting room in Wayne Manor had always been one of Bruce’s favourite places. No matter what was happening in his life, this room never failed to bring him some peace and comfort. It was a room he had spent countless nights in, first with his parents, then with his children, just simply existing together. When he thought of home, this is where he imagined himself and his family.

Like always, the stress and anxiety caused by the dinner and his life as both Batman and a father eased as he stepped into the room. It would never disappear entirely, but Bruce found himself able to breathe easier.

The massive fireplace in the centre of the room was already lit, but Bruce couldn't remember a time when it wasn’t. Alfred tended to the thing with an almost religious care, constantly polishing the ornate wooden mantel and tenderly stoking the flames. 

After he returned from the ordeal when he was twelve, Percy seemed to have a similar, if less extreme, attitude towards the fireplace. It wasn’t the outright admiration from Alfred, more a quiet respect.

Percy entered behind Bruce, but when they entered the room, he went straight to the fireplace, running a hand over the mantel.

Instead of pushing, Bruce found himself walking over to the main couch and sitting down. It was quite a low couch, with very plush cushions, so he always mentally apologised to his knees before sitting in it, but it was always worth it. 

Cass joined him on one side, with Tim on his other, but instead of sitting on a couch like a normal person, Tim was perched on the arm of the couch, leaning against Bruce’s side.

Duke sat on the floor below Tim, and Dick stood at the door. 

With a deep breath, Percy removed his hand from the mantel and walked over to the couch. He sat on the very end of it, as far away from Bruce as possible.

It was hard to pretend that that didn't hurt. It would be harder to try and pretend that he didn’t deserve it. 

That seemed to be what Dick was waiting for, as he fully entered the room, after Percy sat, and moved to sit between Percy and Cass. Percy bristled slightly, but didn’t move. 

Bruce wasn’t entirely sure what transpired between Dick and Percy. He knew that their relationship was complicated before Jason’s death, just like Dick’s relationship with Jason, but he thought that they had gotten closer afterwards. Dick had certainly interacted with Percy more, and showed more interest in being in his brother’s life. 

But based on Percy’s tense reaction to Dick, Bruce was wrong, like he was about so many things when it came to his children.

Alfred came in with a tray of mugs, handing them out to the rooms inhabitant’s.

Percy, of course, got the deep blue mug with the chipped handle that he had drunk out of since he was seven and new to the manor. The first night after Sally had dropped him off, Alfred had taken him into the kitchen with him to choose a mug to drink his hot chocolate out of. Alfred had later told Bruce that it was a way of making Percy feel like he had some control over what was happening. Bruce didn't know if it worked, but he had never drunk out of a different cup, so at least it meant something to him.

“So,” Dick started innocently. “Are you and Annabeth together?” 

Percy sighed deeply, and Bruce couldn’t help but smile slightly. Dick really did enjoy being an annoying older brother.

“Yes,” Percy answered through grit teeth.

“I’m offended you never came to me for dating advice.” Bruce appreciated Dick trying to lighten the tension, but he wasn't sure this was exactly how to go about it. 

Percy rolled his eyes.

“Yes, because all of your relationships have gone so well.”

Beside him, Tim gave a shocked laugh, almost falling off the arm of the chair. Cass giggled, Duke snorted, and even Bruce had an amused smile on his face. 

Dick gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his chest.

“I’m doing better than the rest of the family.”

Percy raised an eyebrow and Dick deflated slightly.

“Okay but at least I’m doing better than Bruce.”

That started up the laughter from his children again, and Bruce rolled his eyes fondly. Even Percy laughed this time. Bruce found it hard to be offended when the comment brought joy from his children, so he just sighed.

“What’s the status with that anyway? What phase are he and Selina in?” Percy asked, finally relaxing into the couch.

“Phase three,” Tim answered, much to Bruce’s confusion. He had no idea what ‘phase three’ meant, but Percy nodded like it made perfect sense.

“So I should expect to see her at dinner in about a month?”

“Eh, give or take a week, your return might speed it up, she always liked you.”

Bruce was officially at a loss, but the rest of his children were nodding along.

“And what about Babs?” Percy asked next. “I would’ve thought she’d come over by now.”

Bruce was honestly surprised too, Percy had been home for more than twenty four hours and Barbara hadn’t even told Bruce to say hi. That was unlike her, she loved Percy. Bruce expected her to come over the second she was told he was home. 

Oh. 

“Someone told her, right?” Tim asked nervously, sitting up straighter. 

Everyone made panicked eye contact.

Well, at least Bruce had gotten to reunite with Percy before his death. 

“I thought Bruce did!” Dick exclaimed. 

“I meant to,” Bruce defended, although he knew it was pointless. His fate was sealed. Percy snorted slightly, taking a long drink from his hot chocolate. 

“You’re fucking Batman! The worlds most prepared and paranoid man! How did you forget,” Tim yelled. 

“There’s been a lot going on,” Bruce defended, even though he knew it was pointless.

“Do you think she’s going to care how busy you are Bruce? Do you think that’ll save you?” Tim asked sarcastically.

Bruce was about to defend himself further when Cass interrupted them.

“Quiet. Somethings wrong.”

Bruce’s heart stopped, and was quickly shocked back into beating by a sharp inhale coming from Percy. 

His son was hunched forward, head hung low and breathing heavily. His breaths were measured but shallow, but every few seconds Percy practically gasped for air. His mug was clenched tightly in his shaking hands, spilling liquid all over the floor. 

Immediately, Bruce moved off the couch and in front of Percy, crouching low to be eye level. His eyes were clenched shut, and the beginnings of tears were forming on the sides. 

Bruce was very familiar with panic attacks and how to deal with them, but it was always significantly harder when it was his children instead of a random civilian. 

“Percy, son, can you open your eyes for me?” He asked gently. Percy didn't respond, and Bruce couldn't be sure he heard him. 

Dick moved next.

“Duke, get Alfred and tell him to bring some water. Tim, can you get one of the weighted blankets.”

Bruce was glad Dick was taking charge, because he was too focused on the boy in front of him.

“Percy, can you hear me sweetheart?”

The only response was Percy clenching his eyes tighter. 

Slowly, Bruce reached over and grabbed hold of the mug, gently pulling it out of Percy’s hands. The second it was gone, Percy wrapped his arms around his stomach, his entire body shaking. Bruce reached forward and gently grabbed one of Percy’s hands. When that didn’t cause any sort of negative reaction, Bruce reached and took the other one, guiding Percy’s hands away from his stomach and towards himself.

“If you can hear me Percy, squeeze my hands.”

Percy’s right hand twitched slightly, before squeezing Bruce’s hand. It was a small squeeze, but a squeeze.

“Good job sweetheart. You’re okay.”

Bruce moved one of Percy’s hands to rest against his chest.

“Can you breathe with me kiddo? Come on, in for 1…2…3…4.”

Percy copied his breath, before coughing halfway through the holding section.

“That’s okay, try again, 1…2…3…4.”

This time Percy managed to make it through the entire breath and exhale, even if his exhale was shakier than Bruce would like.

“You’re doing so well. Can you open your eyes for me Percy?”

Percy’s breath hitched again, but he slowly opened his eyes. 

A part of Bruce’s heart broke at the look of fear and hopelessness in them, but he didn’t let it show.

“There you go kiddo. Come on, let’s do another breath.”

Footsteps behind him signalled Alfred’s arrival. In a show of silent support, Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Master Percy, can you tell me where you are right now.”

Percy opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, his eyes flicked to something behind Alfred and he flinched violently, curling into himself.

All the progress Bruce had made disappeared as Percy began hyperventilating in earnest. 

Before Bruce could start the breathing excercises again, Alfred said something in a language Bruce didn't understand. 

Percy shook his head, seemingly in response to whatever Alfred said. Alfred said something else, and Percy responded in the same language, voice shaky and hoarse. A flash of anger and grief crossed Alfred’s face, and Bruce had to take a mental step back. He’d rarely seen Alfred show emotion that intensely before, and the only times he’d worn that specific expression were…not good to say the least.

Before he could ask what Percy said, something wet dropped on Bruce’s face, and he looked up to see a small wet patch on the ceiling, slowly dripping water.

Alfred also looked up, and his lips pursed. He spoke in the unknown language again, and when Percy didn’t respond, he sighed.

Without warning, Alfred threw the glass of water he was holding at Percy.

“Alfred wha-” Bruce was cut off by the water stopping in mid air right before it hit Percy.

“Very good Master Percy. Can you shape it?” 

Slowly, the floating water condensed into a small sphere in front of Percy’s face.

Bruce leaned back onto his heels, unable to process what was happening in front of him. None of this made any sense, and his brain was whirring trying to come up with an explanation. But he was also still filled with worry and concern for his son.

“Thank you. Now something a bit more complex.”

The water moved again, shakily, but controlled. This time, it formed a small fish. 

“Very good. Try something a bit more difficult.”

The fish stuttered slightly, before reforming. It took a lot longer than the last two, but the water morphed into what looked like a winged horse, a Pegasus. 

“Very good. Now make it move.”

A second passed, and then the wings on the Pegasus started flapping. It started moving forward, like it was actually flying.

Percy’s breathing had steadied considerably, and as confused as Bruce was, he was grateful that Alfred had been able to calm him down.

“Now, what do you require to be able to safely open your eyes?”

“The fire, it looks like….” Percy trailed off. 

Understanding flashed across Alfred’s face. 

“May I have some water?” He asked, holding the empty glass out in front of Percy.

Instead of depositing the water making up the Pegasus, a stream of water from the patch in the ceiling trailed into the cup. When it was full, Alfred turned towards the fire and used the water to extinguish it. 

“It’s gone.”

Percy slowly opened his eyes, looking around the room slowly. When he saw the fire was indeed extinguished, his eyes flickered back to Alfred. 

“You put out the Hearth.”

Alfred nodded slightly. 

“I dare say she’ll understand.”

Bruce had no idea what the Hearth was, or who ‘She’ was, but he’d kind of accepted the fact that he had no idea what was happening in this moment. He’d ask Alfred later, although he doubted he’d get a straight answer. 

“What else do you need?” Alfred asked.

“Annabeth I need to- I need to see she’s okay.”

Bruce filed that away for later. 

Now that Percy was more or less out of the panic attack, Bruce’s attention returned to the rest of the room. Dick and Tim were standing near the door, with Tim holding a weighted blanket, seemingly unsure of what to do. Bruce could relate. Cass was by Percy’s side. Far enough away that she wasn’t crowding him, but close enough he could reach out if he needed to. 

“I think it would be best for you to retire to your room before you call her. You need to rest.”

Percy sighed, but nodded. 

Slowly, he moved to stand, still shaking.

Bruce rose with him, ignoring the protests of his knees. When Percy stumbled, Bruce shot out an arm to catch him. 

“I’m okay,” Percy muttered, trying to push Bruce off. If the fact that that statement was a lie wasn’t obvious, the lack of strength behind the push would’ve made it so.

Instead of denying it, Bruce just continued to support him.

“I’ve got you.”

Percy sighed, accepting his fate. 

“Do you want the weighted blanket in your room?” Tim asked hesitantly. 

Percy thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head. The movement must have impacted him, as he winced, leaning heavier on Bruce.

Carefully, Bruce shifted until he was supporting most of Percy’s weight. When he didn’t protest, he continued to pick him up.

“I can walk,” Percy mumbled, incredibly unconvincingly.

“I’m sure,” Bruce said, walking towards the hallway.

The water Pegasus followed them all the way up the stairs and into Percy’s room, before flying off into the bathroom attached to his room.

By the time they reached it, Percy had closed his eyes, resting his head against Bruce’s chest. 

Slowly, Bruce laid Percy down on his bed, reaching down to pull the blanket up.

Percy’s eyes opened slightly as Bruce pulled the blanket over him.

“This doesn’t mean you’re not an asshole,” he mumbled, seemingly half asleep.

Bruce smiled softly.

“Get some sleep, we can talk in the morning.”

Chapter Text

The second Bruce left the room, Percy cursed. Very creatively. Despite the fact that his arms felt like they had lead weights tied to them, Percy reached over and opened the drawer on his bedside table. He pulled out the prism and a Drachma, pausing as the action left him winded and light headed.

As much as he hated to admit it, neither he, Annabeth, or Nico got out of Tartarus unscathed. The effects were different on all of them, but a few were the same. Bone deep exhaustion was one of them. It was ignorable most of the time, but certain things set it off. A flashback to that degree definitely qualified. He’d probably still be feeling the after effects tomorrow, but he’d be dammed if he let Bruce see that. Tonight was bad enough.

Gods would he have some explaining to do in the morning.

After a moment of regaining his breath, he, rather pathetically, tossed the Drachma into the rainbow.

“Oh Iris, Goddes of the Rainbow, show me Annabeth Chase, San Francisco.” His voice was barely audible by the end of it, but it went through.

Annabeth flickered into view in front of him. His brain didn’t have the energy to process any of her surroundings, anything other than Annabeth was unimportant to him.

“Percy? Are you okay?”

Percy hummed in confirmation, the last dregs of adrenaline leaving his system now that he knew Annabeth was okay. He could no longer fight the slow dropping of his eyelids, so he let them close.

“Percy? Hey, what happened?”

The concern in her voice stirred Percy into opening his eyes again.

“Just a panic attack, ‘m okay.”

Annabeth winced in sympathy.

“Are your lungs okay? You need to be keeping an eye on them, especially after-”

“I know, I know, they’re fine.”

Annabeth sighed.

“I’m sorry, I just worry.”

Percy sighed, letting his eyes close again.

“I know.”

“You should get some sleep.”

Percy hummed again, already halfway there.

“Needed to see you.”

As Percy drifted off, the last thing he heard was Annabeths voice.

“I’m right here Seaweed Brain.”

Bruce, and he couldn't think of any more eloquent way to put this, had no idea what the fuck just happened. The second he closed the door to Percy’s room, his brain rebooted into Batman mode.

First, he needed to outline the facts. Percy had some form of panic attack, most likely a flashback. Something in that room set him off, something to do with the fire. He and Alfred had spoken in a language that Bruce didn’t know or recognise, and Alfred seemed to know that Percy would be more responsive in that language. Percy was a Meta.

Percy was a Meta.

That was where Bruce’s brain kept halting. One part of his mind was running overtime, comparing what he’d seen of Percy’s abilities to other known metas and creating contingencies. The other one didn’t understand how he didn’t know. How he never noticed.

He’d helped raise Percy. Even though he was his uncle by blood, he considered Percy his child, and he knew, at least for a time, that Percy considered him a father. Why didn’t he tell him?

Alfred knew. He not only knew about the ability, he knew how it worked, at least to an extent, and that it would help calm Percy down.

Was that why Percy left? He’d been getting gradually more distant ever since he was twelve, pulling away from Bruce, hiding things. Bruce had thought it was just general teenage angst, he’d made sure to keep Percy out of the Bat side of his life, Sally would have killed him if he hadn’t, so he thought he was safe.

But then Percy had come home from a surprise ‘trip’ he and some of his friends took over christmas when he was fourteen battered and bruised and with a haunted look in his eyes that Bruce had seen in too many of his children. So, he’d pushed more, monitored Percy, put more rules and boundaries in place. That lead to fights, and the fights lead to Percy packing up to go back to his mother.

Was this the secret he was hiding?

Bruce re entered the sitting room. For once, the sense of comfort was nowhere to be found. Instead, a thick feeling of tension enveloped the room.

Dick and Tim were to one side, deep in discussion. Alfred was kneeling by the unlit fireplace, arranging the logs in a circular fashion. Cass was nowhere to be found, but of all of Bruce’s children to be missing right now, at least it was Cass. Cass was the least likely to be causing problems right now.

Dick turned to him as he walked in.

“Bruce, what the fuck just happened?”

Normally, Bruce would reprimand him for the swearing, but he couldn’t even pretend to care right now.

“That’s what I would like to know,” Bruce replied, staring at Alfred.

Alfred didn’t respond, just kept tending to the wood.

“Alfred.”

“Yes Master Bruce?”

“What the hell happened?”

Alfred sighed, dusting his hands off and standing.

“I assume you are enquiring about Master Percy’s abilities.”

For a second Bruce considered a sarcastic response, then decided against it. But, he couldn’t think of any other way to respond, so he didn’t. After a moment of silence, Alfred continued.

“I believe that that is something Master Percy deserves to tell you himself.”

“But you knew?”

“Yes.”

Bruce felt his brain stop, and the only way he could think to move forward was to do exactly that, move forward.

“How long? How long did you know.”

Alfred’s expression only twitched slightly, but it was enough to tell Bruce that he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Since he was born.”

Silence. Bruce was pretty sure he wasn’t breathing.

Bruce was a realistic person. He was under no illusion that Alfred wasn’t hiding things from him. In fact, he knew he was. But he thought that Alfred, one of the few people he trusted implicitly, would tell him if it was important. The fact that his son was a Meta? That was pretty damn important.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question came out more like Bruce than Batman, hurt and confused. Bruce hated sounding like that. Batman hated it even more.

Alfred sighed again, looking almost regretful. Almost.

“Miss Sally didn't want you to know.”

Bruce wasn’t sure how many more surprises he could take tonight. He stumbled over to the couch, sinking into it as he tried to process everything.

“We’re gonna go on patrol,” Dick said, grabbing Tim’s arm and practically sprinting out of the room.

When they were alone, Alfred walked over to sit next to Bruce.

“Was that why he left?” Bruce asked softly.

Alfred took a moment to answer.

“It was a part of it, but there were several other factors.”

“Did he think I’d kick him out? Why didn’t he tell me? I could’ve helped, I could’ve…”

He trailed off, putting his head in his hands.

“I believe that these are all questions to ask him, Bruce.”

Dropping the Master was practically Alfred’s version of a sappy pet name. But, he was right.

He was often right.

“Now, you’re in no state to patrol tonight, so I suggest a cup of chamomile tea and an early night.”

They both knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

A drop of water fell right in front of him, and Bruce glanced up.

Right. The puddle of water in the ceiling.

“I’ll call a plumber in the morning. It might be prudent to put one on retainer if Master Percy is staying.”

“Is he staying?”

“That depends on you Master Bruce.”

The streets of Gotham were mercifully quiet. Well, as quiet as Gotham could get. There were the usual muggings and attempted murders, but no Rogues or significant gang activity, so Dick didn’t have to actually use his brain, just fall into the rythym of easy fights and jumping around rooftops.

That allowed his mind to try and process what the fuck just happened.

It was a slow process. A very slow process. Mainly because Dick had no idea how to begin to address what he’d witnessed.

That was probably what lead him to crime alley.

He didn’t move from where he was sitting at the edge of a building as he heard footsteps behind him.

“You better have a good reason for invading my turf Dickwing.”

Dick knew it was mostly a joke, but he honestly didn’t have it in him to care right now.

“Did you know Percy’s a meta?”

“What?”

Dick just laughed at the shock in his voice, a jolting, hysterical sound.

“Great. So no one knew. No one except Alfred anyway.”

Jason sat behind him, taking off his helmet.

“What the hell happened?”

That, Dick thought, was an excellent question.

“He had a panic attack-”

Jason cut him off.

“What? Is he okay? What triggered it?”

Dick sighed.

“We don’t know what triggered it, and as far as I’m aware he’s okay. He got out of it once Alfred stepped in then Bruce took him to bed.”

Jason raised an eyebrow.

“And Percy let him?”

Dick snorted.

“Bruce didn't give him a lot of say in the matter, and he was pretty exhausted.”

Jason nodded.

“He did seem tired this morning. Now what the hell do you mean he’s a meta?”

“If you hadn’t interrupted me, I would’ve explained already.”

Look. Just because Dick was emotionally exhausted and questioning everything he knew about his brother, doesn’t mean he couldn't be an asshole.

Jason swatted him on the arm, wisely not saying anything.

“When he was having a panic attack, water started dripping from the ceiling, he must have burst a pipe or something.”

Dick privately wondered how often that happened. He’d seen the issues meta abilities could cause when mixed with strong emotions, minor property damage was honestly fine all things considered.

“Okay? That could just be a coincidence.”

“And then Alfred threw a glass of water at him and he stopped it mid air.”

Jason tilted his head.

“Okay. Not a coincidence.”

“Nope.”

Jason huffed out a breath, looking about as confused as Dick felt. They sat in tense silence for a few minutes, before Jason spoke.

“I can’t picture Alfred throwing a glass of water at someone.”

Dick almost started laughing hysterically again.

“Really? That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“That’s the part of the story that my brain can actually process.”

Okay, that was fair.

“How’s B taking it?”

Dick turned to face Jason, a flat expression on his face.

“How do you think he’s taking it?”

Jason winced.

“Poor Percy. He’s in for the interrogation of a lifetime tomorrow.”

“Are you telling me you don't want to know how and why he’s been hiding this for so long?”

Look, don’t get Dick wrong, he sympathised for his little brother, he really did. No one deserved the full force of Bruce’s ‘worried Batman’ interrogation, which somehow managed to be worse than his ‘angry Batman’ one. But, he felt that he was a little justified in his want for answers. Especially after Percy had gone missing for ten months, then refused to contact them for another six. Did his abilities have something to do with it? Was he in trouble?

“There’s a reason he didn’t tell us. And from what I hear, pushing him for answers didn’t go so well the first time around.”

Hurt struck Dick, right in the chest. How dare Jason imply that what happened to Percy was his fault.

“I don’t think you get to comment on that, you weren’t there.”

“I was dead Dick, what did you want me to do?”

“And that was the problem! Wasn’t it! You were dead because Bruce didn’t pay enough attention, I didn’t pay enough attention. So I payed more attention! I did everything I fucking could, and he still pulled away, still ran off to god knows where doing god knows what and I lost him too! I did everything I could, and I still lost him too…”

Dick trailed off, realising he was yelling. His voice was thick with emotion and he could feel the burn of unshed tears in the back of his throat. He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes and tried to take deep breaths in an effort to not cry.

His feelings over what happened to his brothers had never really gone away, only shoved deep down with reminders that they were okay now. But every so often something slipped through, and he was forced to confront his failures.

“Uh Oracle, who else is on patrol tonight?” Jason said into the coms. Her response sounded in Dick’s own com, but he could barely hear it.

“Just Spoiler and Red Robin, apparently there’s some kind of event happening among the Bats that they haven’t told me because we’re short staffed tonight.”

“Well it’s about to get shorter. Can you send Tim over to pick Dick up? He’s having emotions.”

Barbara snorted.

“He’s on his way. ETA 3 minutes, can you cope until then?”

A distant part of Dick felt offended, but the rest off him was too exhausted to care. He flopped backwards onto the roof, staring up at the smog filled sky.

“I’ll do my best.”

Jason then turned and poked Dick on his stomach.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Do you know how unsanitary these rooftops are? Your hair will get tetanus or something.”

Dick huffed in a way that somewhat resembled a laugh.

“I’ve had my shots.”

“Well yeah, you live with Damian.”

That caused a small spark of protective anger in Dick, less than it would’ve on any other day, but present nonetheless.

“Hey, be nice. Dami’s matured a lot.”

“I wasn’t talking about him, I was talking about the strays he brings home.”

Yeah okay, that was fair. Dick had been bitten by more than one radioactive raccoon Damian found on patrol. So far he hadn’t gotten any superpowers from them, just Rabies shots.

A minute passed before Jason spoke again.

“My death wasn’t your fault. You were a shit brother, but not that shit.”

Dick just snorted, unable to deal with that right now. Or potentially ever.

“And Percy’s disappearance wasn’t your fault either. That kids a trouble magnet. You could lock him up and throw away the key and he would still find a way to cause chaos.”

That was true, Dick supposed. For the love of God he’d blown up a school bus at age 10. None of the rest of them had managed to do that, and they were vigilantes.

The thwip of a grapple line and the sound of footsteps signalled Tim’s arrival.

“Oracle called. Said Dick needed emotional support and Jason was being a coward.”

Dick chuckled at that, the only emotion left in his body being exhausted amusement.

“I would argue against that, but she wasn’t wrong,” Jason said as he stood.

Suddenly, Tim was standing over Dick, staring down at him in a mixture of judgement and sympathy that only Tim managed to pull off.

“Alright, up you get. You can’t lie here all night.”

When Dick didn’t move immediately, Tim grabbed his arms and pulled him up.

“My bikes in the street below, you’ll ride with me.”

Dick pulled his arms out of Tim’s grip.

“I can get myself back to the cave, you finish patrol.”

“I was about to head in anyway. God knows there’s more happening inside the manor walls than on the streets of Gotham tonight.”

That was certainly one way to put it. So Dick allowed Tim to pull him towards a safe spot to grapple down, but before he fired his grapple gun, he turned to Jason.

“Will we see you at the manor tomorrow?”

Jason sighed.

“Percy’s gonna need all the support he can get. I’ll be there around lunch.”

With that sorted, Dick descended into the alley and onto the back of Tims bike.

The last thing he heard as they drove away was Jason’s voice on the coms.

“Wait, Barbie, did no one tell you that Percy came home?”

Chapter Text

Waking up the next morning felt somewhat similar to holding up the sky. The same crushing weight dragging Percy down and draining his energy.

For the first few minutes, Percy couldn’t even open his eyes. Everytime he tried to move it felt like he was crashing into an invisible wall. Eventually, he won the battle against sleep, blinking his eyes open and forcing himself back into his body. The second he did, he regretted it immensely.

“Prometheus was pranking us when designing the humans body,” he muttered to himself as he stretched in an attempt to lesson the deep ache that enveloped his entire body. “That’s the only possible explanation.”

Glancing over, he checked the clock on his nightstand.

9 am. Two hours after Alfred normally woke everyone for breakfast. It was a Sunday, so it was technically possible that he allowed them all to sleep in, but Percy was pretty sure it was just him. Not that Percy was complaining, the extra two hours of sleep wouldnt cure his exhaustion, but it would definetly help.

Plus it was one less opportunity for Bruce to interrogate him after the events of the previous night.

Gods that was going to suck. Realistically Percy knew it would happen sooner or later, he had just hoped for later. Significantly later.

Groaning, Percy slowly sat up. His head pounded with the movement, which he found quite rude. He had to sit for a minute, before pushing himself to stand. Black filled his vision, but quickly dissipated, so he ignored it. If his body decided to do dumb shit, that wasn’t his problem.

Well. It would probably be his problem eventually, but Percy was a fan of denial. It kept him sane.

Percy stumbled over to the attatched bathroom, cursing at his stiff muscles. This was ridiculous, he’d bested Ares at age twelve, and here he was struggling with something as simple as walking first thing in the morning.

Sighing, Percy turned on the shower.

While only water from natural sources such as lakes or the ocean itself healed him, any form of water still had a revitalising effect. The warm water loosened his muscles and dulled his headache, and the steam eased the ever present pressure in his lungs.

He was reluctant to get out, but he knew he couldn’t stay in the shower forever.

Eventually, he turned off the water and started to get dressed. When he was done, he exited the bathroom and flopped back down on the bed, honestly ready to just go back to sleep. Previous experience had taught him that that wouldn't help however.

What he did need was food. The question was, was it worth leaving his room and possibly running into someone?

Will and Annabeth would say yes. Nico would understand his position however.

Just as Percy was about to suck it up and leave the room like the hero he allegedly was, there was a knock on the door.

“Master Percy, may I come in?”

Alfred, thank the gods. The one person in the house that he could safely interact with today. Apart from maybe Cass. She was just as nosy as the others, but she rarely bothered with asking questions.

“Yeah, you can come in,” he called back as he sat up.

Alfred entered the room carrying a tray with food and water.

“I expected that you wouldn’t be able to come down to eat, so I brought you a light breakfast.”

On the tray there was a large glass of water, a piece of toast, and a cut up apple. Not a sufficient breakfast by Alfred’s standards, but considering the way Percy’s stomach was twisting and cramping already, it would probably be all he would be able to get down.

As if sensing his thoughts, Alfred spoke.

“Normally I would insist on a source of protein, but I thought that considering the events of last night bland foods would be preferable.”

Percy gave Alfred a strained smile as he picked up a piece of apple.

“Thanks Alfie.”

Alfred flitted around the room while Percy ate, cleaning up the mess he had managed to accumulate within the 36 hours he’d been back at the manor. Percy was just grateful that Alfred didn’t judge him for the chaos of his room, familiar with Percy’s particular brand of unorganised chaos.

By the time Percy had managed to eat half the apple and the slice of toast, his room was cleaner than it had been since he had moved in for the first time all those years ago.

Percy chugged the water before pushing the tray away, unable to finish the apple. Alfred glanced over, showing no reaction to the unfinished food, only picking up the tray and placing it on Percy’s dresser. After, he reached into a pocket of his suit and pulled out a small square of ambrosia.

Percy took it gratefully, chewing it slowly to savour the taste of his moms cookies dipped in Alfred’s hot chocolate.

“Have you been taking the recommended two squares a day?” Alfred asked, no judgement in his tone.

Percy winced. He knew that he needed to take a square morning and night as prescribed by Will after Tartarus, but he’d never been good at remembering these things.

“I missed both of yesterdays doses.”

Alfred just nodded, handing him another square.

“I would recommend a vial of nectar before bed to make up for the lost dose as long as you don’t require any during the day.”

Percy nodded as he finished the second square, warmth filling his body and chasing away some of the exhaustion and pain. He didn’t feel great afterwards, but he was pretty sure he could manage making it downstairs without passing out. If he immediately sat down afterwards and didn’t get up again for a few hours.

Percy groaned, sinking back into his pillow.

“Bruce cannot see me like this,” he muttered. If he was being honest, he hated that Alfred was witnessing it, but at least Alfred somewhat understood as a grandson of Apollo. While his aim was the main thing he’d inherited, Percy knew that Alfred had above average medical skills from his heritage, which was only aided by his time studying field medicine. Alfred probably understood better than Percy did how fucked up his body was after Tartarus.

That didn't mean he had to like it.

“Master Bruce is quite worried about you after last night,” Alfred said leadingly.

“And this,” Percy gestured to himself, “won't just make him more concerned?”

If Bruce saw him in the state he was in, he wouldn’t let Percy out of his sight for the next five years. At camp, Percy had always been the one protecting others, and the one looked to in times of trouble, he wasn’t used to being looked after, and every time he ended up stuck in bed, forcing Will and his other friends to take care of him, a part of him shriveled up inside. He knew Annabeth and Nico felt the same.

“The longer you avoid him, the longer he has to brood.”

Percy hated that that was a good point.

“Even if you decide to avoid Master Bruce throughout the day, it is family dinner tonight, and Miss Barbara has made it abundantly clear that she expects to see you, so you will have to at least make an appearance at dinner.”

Percy groaned again, but he knew that there was no way in Hades he was getting out of family dinner.

At least if he avoided Bruce until then he’d have plenty of backup to stave off the oncoming interrogation.

“I’ll come down for dinner.”

Alfred nodded, taking the win.

“And what shall I say when the rest of the family enquire after you?”

Percy shrugged.

“Tell them I’m sulking and refusing to leave my room.” It wasn’t that far from the truth anyway.

A faint smile tugged at Alfred’s lips.

“If that is what you wish for me to do.”

He headed towards the doorway but Percy called out to him before he could leave.

“I’m sorry.”

Alfred turned around.

“Whatever for?”

“Making you extinguish the Hearth. I know how important it is to you.”

In all the time Percy had spent at Wayne Manor, the Hearth had never not been lit. It served as Alfred’s altar to his Patron, Hestia, and he knew that it meant a lot to him.

Alfred sighed, sitting on the edge of Percy’s bed.

“What happened last night was not your fault.”

Percy pressed his palms into his eyes in frustration.

“It was so stupid.”

It really was. He’d had a sip of his hot chocolate when it was still too hot, and the resulting burn brought back memories of the phlegthon. He had tried pushing past it, but every time he pushed the thought away it came back, and brought a friend. Within the span of a few seconds everything around him reminded him of the pit, including the fire place. He knew it was irrational, but every time he saw flames flicking in the edge of his vision the other night, he expected to turn around to find he was back in that place.

“It was not stupid, you have been through things no mortal should ever experience, and it has left its mark. I’m just sorry you had to experience that.”

“It's just- I know that I’m safe. At least from Tar-the pit. Logically I know that. But all it takes is one reminder and I lose my shit.”

Alfred didn’t even scold Percy for swearing, which was surely a sign of the end of the world. Instead, he just sighed, reaching out to take Percys hand.

“Our emotions are rarely logical. That doesn’t make them any less real. You went through something incredibly traumatic, what happened last night is an expected result of that. At least you have refrained as dressing up as a bat and gallivanting across rooftops.”

Percy snorted at that, brushing away the tears that had formed at the corner of his eyes.

“Now I believe you should rest so that you are fit for dinner tonight,” Alfred said as he stood. “If you need me for any reason, just say my name and I’ll know.”

Percy hoped that that was a benefit of Alfred being blessed by Hestia rather than a sign that someone had bugged his room. Knowing his luck, and the family he lived with, it was probably both.

Alfred paused at the doorway.

“Master Percy, do you know why Lady Hestia chose me as her priest despite how unconventional it is?”

Percy shook his head.

“Because she knows I understand that family comes before everything else. Especially before a ceremonial fire.”

With that, he left, leaving Percy to his thoughts.

The thing with resting is, it got boring very quickly.

To Percy’s credit, he did last a good fifteen minutes before he started getting restless. Then his fingers started to twitch and he started looking around his room for a distraction.

The few books in his room were either children's books or books he’d had to read for school, which he never did.

There was some paper on his desk, he could draw, but his entire arm ached and his hand was shaking so intensely that he knew he would fail at holding a pencil. It was times like this when Percy kind of wished that he had a phone to mess around on. Although, realistically it was only a matter of time before Bruce found out he didn’t have one and forcefully gifted him one. Percy may as well take it at that point, it's not like he could become a bigger monster magnet.

He could iris message someone, but the idea of holding a conversation sounded exhausting. He would call Annabeth, she would be happy to do all the talking, but her father liked to do family bonding activities to make up lost time on Sundays, and as much as Annabeth complained about them, he knew that she secretly enjoyed them.

There was nothing Percy could do to entertain himself with the amount of energy he had, so, he had to get creative.

By the time there was a knock on Percy’s bedroom door, Percy had resorted to attempting to fold Origami out of the tissues from the tissue box on his bedside table. That was going horrendously for a number of reasons including Percy’s still shaking hand, the fact that tissues didn't actually fold, and the fact that Percy didn’t fucking know how to fold origami.

The knock on his door made Percy look up, squinting at the door suspiciously.

“Who is it?” He called out.

“Tim and Cass,” Tim replied from the other side of the door.

Not the worst options for who could be on the other side, but still likely to end badly for Percy.

Tim was a nosy bastard at the best of times after all.

When Percy didn’t respond immediately, Tim continued.

“I've brought my laptop so we can watch trashy reality tv?”

That sold it for Percy.

“You can come in.”

The door opened and Tim and Cass came in. Percy politely ignored the way Tim examined him as he walked towards the bed.

The beds in Wayne Manor were fucking massive, so Cass and Tim easily fit on either side of Percy.

“So, I feel like I already know the answer to this,” Tim began once they were settled. “But I do have to try. Can I ask what happened last night?”

“Nope.”

Tim didn’t look surprised at all.

“Yeah I figured that was what you’d say. Now onto more important things.”

He opened his laptop and brought up a show.

“Selena managed to get herself onto this season of New Housewives of Gotham.”

Tim had been working on a case in the media room when Alfred found him.

“Master Percy is awake.”

Tim slammed his laptop shut, jumping to his feet.

Of course he had a lot of questions about last night, a lot of questions. But he was also concerned about Percy. He’d known Percy since they were seven, and he’d never seen him look quite that bad before.

Even when Jason had died he hadn’t looked quite so hopeless. He'd been devastated of course, but he’d also been so angry. Angry at Bruce, angry at Dick, and angry at the world.

Last night… he just looked broken.

And the fact that he’d let Bruce carry him said a lot.

“Where is he? Is he okay?”

Alfred sighed.

“Master Percy is refusing to leave his room.”

Tim deflated slightly.

“However, he didn't say anything about not receiving visitors.”

Tim’s smirk matched the glint in Alfred’s eyes as he jumped up to go grab cass.

That was what lead him to lying on one side of Percy, with Cass on his other side watching trashy reality TV on his laptop.

“How did Selina even get on this show?” Percy asked as they watched Catwoman, one of Gothams infamous rogues, threw a glass of wine in some womans face. “Don’t you need to be married?”

“You would think so,” Tim mused, “that’s what the name implies at least.”

On the screen, some rich lady that Tim was probably meant to know sneered at Selina.

“I just don’t think that someone with her nightly activities should be put in the same category as people of our calibre.”

Tim winced. It was an open secret that Selina was Catwoman, but it was considered highly impolite to talk about it.

“Oh sweetheart, just because your husband won’t have sex with you doesn’t mean you get to look down on other peoples 'nightly activities.’”

“Damn,” Percy muttered. “She’s really enjoying this.”

They watched a few more episodes before they were interrupted. Percy had slowly untensed throughout, and by the end of the third episode he was leaning on Tim, head readying on his shoulder.

Tim wasn’t surprised, Percy looked truly exhausted and a little too pale to be anything other than concerning.

Cass seemed concerned, but not worried, so it probably wasn’t anything extreme, or contagious, so Tim was content to leave it alone for now. One of the mother hens of the family would bug Percy about it later no doubt.

Just as Tim was cuing up the next episode, there was a knock on the door.

“Percy? It’s Jason.”

Tim glanced to Percy, who gave a half shrug.

“Come in,” Percy called out.

Jason opened the door and stuck his head in.

“Didn’t realise you had company.”

Percy looked at Tim and Cass skeptically.

“Company is a strong word.”

“Hey!” Tim said as he elbowed Percy in the ribs. Despite it being a relatively soft hit, Percy still winced.

Tim didnt get an opportunity to apologise or say anything before Percy spoke again.

“We’ve been watching Selina on real housewives of Gotham.”

Jason scrunched up his nose.

“Why?”

“It’s very entertaining.”

Jason hummed skeptically.

“Are you going to come in or linger at the doorway like a socially anxious vampire?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Now that Percy mentioned it, Jason seemed off. More hesitant than normal.

God, was everyone in this house having some kind of crisis?

Jason shuffled inside, closing the door behind him.

“Uh. I brought uno?”

Percy snorted.

“Yes, because uno in this family is such a good idea.”

“I can leave.”

“No no let’s play uno.”

Jason rolled his eyes fondly, as he pulled the chair from Percy’s desk to beside the bed.

“I’ll deal.”