Chapter Text
Tim was minding his own business embroidering minor protective sigils on one of Bruce’s shirts when a young satyr sprinted past him with a frantic look on his face. Interest piqued, Tim put away the unfinished shirt in his project bag. It was probably nothing considering the satyr was so young and likely didn’t have enough experience to take on important quests. He might not even have his searcher’s license yet.
Even though Tim had never stepped foot into the satyrs’ meeting grove, it wasn’t all that difficult to find. After all, the frantic satyr wasn’t too concerned with covering his tracks. Tim didn’t exactly know what would happen if he was caught trying to spy on the grove (it’s not like Mr. Doe knew either), so he cloaked himself in a thin venire of shadow when he entered the woods. It wouldn’t stop anyone from seeing him, but if they were only taking a passing glance of the woods, he could continue unnoticed.
As Tim approached the grove, he could hear the young satyr hiccupping sobs as he pleaded with the elders. Tim climbed a nearby tree to get a better visual, hoping he didn’t wake a sleeping dryad.
“I’m sorry! She didn’t tell me she was moving until today! And why would anyone want to move to Gotham in the first place?!” The hair on Tim’s neck rose. An uncontacted demigod was going into Gotham. And if a satyr could smell her, then so could monsters. Not good.
“It is your failure that led to the girl’s death,” one of the elders intoned. The air rushed out of Tim’s lungs. Is she already dead? How did they get confirmation? Did they get a newspaper that had her obituary? “Sage Laelius, you have failed your quest and as such are not granted a searcher’s license. You are dismissed from the sacred grove.” The young satyr hung his head in shame and trudged out of the grove. Tim scrambled down the tree as quickly as he could before running to catch up with Sage.
“Sage!” Tim hissed, trying to get his attention. Sage turned, tears still falling down his face.
“Alvin? What do you—were you spying on the sacred grove?” Sage hissed back. “That’s extremely rude! What happens there is none of your business and—”
“Did a demigod go into Gotham?” Tim immediately cut him off. Sage’s face crumpled at Tim’s question.
“Yeah. It’s my fault,” the young satyr sniffled. “I thought I had until summer, but she’s moving! In the middle of the school year! And now it’s my fault that she’s going to die and—” Tim put his hands on Sage’s shoulders.
“Is she moving today?” Sage nodded. “Do you know where in Gotham she’s moving to?” Sage nodded again. Tim started walking with purpose towards the campfire at the center of camp, steering Sage along with him by the shoulders. “What’s the address and what direction are they coming from?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sage choked on a sob. “No demigod or satyr that goes into Gotham comes out. It’s all my—” Tim stopped and looked Sage in the eye.
“Sage. I have a mortal friend that can see through the Mist who lives in Gotham. There’s a chance we can still save her.” A glimmer of hope entered Sage’s eyes.
“Really? Are you sure? Can your friend fight against monsters? Do they have a celestial bronze weapon?” Tim nodded at Sage’s questions and began quickly walking towards the campfire again, this time with Sage at his heals.
“I need more details. Are they going to the house as soon as they enter Gotham? What bridge are they using to enter Gotham? Are they planning on going out to eat in the city before they go to the house? Who is the mortal parent?” Sage floundered a bit at Tim’s questions.
“Um. I think Isabel—her name is Isabel Santiago—said she’s going to some place that started with a B? And a crazy man obsessed with ice took it over when Gotham was quarantined?”
“The Bowery,” Tim curtly provided. That should make it easier to get her out if he takes Robert Kane Bridge to the Northeast exit. The only problem was that Tim would have to drive on the edge of Crime Alley to get to the bridge. At least Isabella didn’t move somewhere dead center of Gotham like the Narrows.
“Yes! The Bowery! I don’t know how they’re entering the city, but Isabel mentioned her mother wanted to unpack right away, so I think they would go to the house immediately. Isabel also said her mom—Lucia Santiago—was pulling her out of school during lunch to move, which means they should get there before dusk. I’m pretty sure Lucia can’t see through the Mist. She works as a mechanic, so Isabel is probably a child of the Hephaestus.” Tim nodded. He could work with this.
“Any other important information I should know?” The demigod asked as they finally entered the circle of cabins.
“She hates being called Izzy,” Sage immediately replied. Tim nodded again as they continued walking. “Wait, how are you going to contact your friend? You said they live in Gotham, and I heard the city is forsaken to the point where Iris messages can’t go through. Alvin—” Tim ignored Sage as he walked up to where Hestia sat by the fire along with a few other demigods who were reading books.
“An uncontacted demigod is on their way to Gotham. I’m going to assist in retrieving them,” Tim informed her. “Please tell Chiron and the Stoll brothers I might not make it back in time for archery practice if they ask.” The demigods who were closest enough to hear snapped their heads up in shock.
“I wish you success on your self-appointed quest, son of mine,” Hestia smiled kindly. One of the campers gaped at the goddess. Kayla Knowles stood up from where she was sitting, a concerned look on her face.
“Alvin, you might not know this, but Gotham is the worst city for demigods. It’s infested with monsters, has crazy mortals, and the freaking Batman is there.” That mildly reassured Tim—she didn’t mention how Gotham demigods go crazy. If it ever got out he’s from Gotham she wouldn’t treat him differently. Probably. Hopefully. But that’s a later thought. Tim had a demigod to save. He stepped into the hearth despite demigods and the young satyr calling for him. Hestia didn’t say a word, confident in her son.
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“Sweet Hades!” Mr. Doe exclaimed in shock from where he was crocheting a blanket on the couch by the fireplace. “Knock when you do that for gods’ sake!” Tim didn’t waste any time as he stepped out of the fireplace.
“There’s an uncontacted demigod that’s moving into the Bowery today by the name of Isabel Santiago. We need to move quick.” Mr. Doe was on his hoof immediately, grabbing his pair of forearm crutches as Tim put down his project bag that was still slung around his shoulder and grabbed his phone from his school bag he left at Mr. Doe’s house before entering Camp.
“What’s the parent situation?”
“Mortal mother who can’t see through the Mist and works as a mechanic; scouting satyr thinks the demigod is a daughter of Hephaestus,” Tim answered as he frantically typed into his phone. “I got an address!” He called out. Mr. Doe nodded.
“Good. What’re you thinking in terms of retrieval?” Tim thought about it for a moment as he started packing a go bag, surprised Mr. Doe was letting him take the lead.
“We wait by the house for them to arrive. We introduce ourselves as members of the neighborhood and work on splitting the mother and daughter into conversing with us separately. I’ll convince Isabel to eat a flower and we monitor from there. If monsters find her before the flower takes effect, I’ll grab her and make a break for it on my motorcycle. You’ll run mortal interference.”
“Oh, I’m sure the child will eat the random flower offered by a stranger in Gotham,” Mr. Doe snorted sarcastically. Tim shrugged as he held the apartment door open for Mr. Doe.
“Could be worse. If it was night and I make a break for it with Isabel, then the only competent mortals in this city would think I was a criminal,”
“Competent is a bit of a stretch,” Mr. Doe hummed. “They still haven’t cracked your case despite it being a month. And you’re already a criminal with your extracurricular activities and the speeds you drive on that gods forsaken bike. I’m surprised Bruce lets you ride around like that with how paranoid he is about secret identities.”
“Oh, he doesn’t know I have Blackbird,” Tim answered as he put on his motorcycle helmet.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Mr. Doe sighed. “He wouldn’t be able to see a cyclops if he had a staring contest with it. How did you sneak it past him? I know you’re not dumb enough to buy it as Tim Drake.” Tim double checked his supplies, making sure he had vials of nectar, his enchanted bracelet that contained his spear, a spare child’s helmet, mortal throwing knives, and smoke pellets. They were good to go.
“Bruce said he wanted me to get used to the financial aspect of running a hero team when Young Just Us was in the early stages, so he put me in charge of budgeting for batarangs. I think the real reason he did it was because it hurts his soul to spend money on disposable equipment. Either way, he has no idea how many batarangs we go through. I just skimmed a bit off the top and used the money to purchase the parts this beauty is made of.” Mr. Doe nearly fell off the motorcycle in surprise.
“You embezzled from the freaking Batman,” he said, aghast. Tim rolled his eyes despite Mr. Doe being unable to see it.
“What? Like it’s hard?” The old goat just shook his head in disbelief as Tim revved the motorcycle. They had a demigod to save.