Chapter Text
Honestly, Percy wished he had done better. He had spent almost a year away from his mother, only to lock himself up in his room every day, studying himself half to death for a chance to create a normal future for himself and Annie. Maybe it was his way of coping with the death of Leo... maybe he was just dramatic. He'd seen death so many times...why now was he crumbling?
Watching out the corner of his eye he studied a detective walk into the sterile room, they'd kept him in considering his... violent history. The man seemed to shiver slightly, discomfort clear in his gaze. For a moment he sees a look he knew. Fear.
Fear he had seen in Annie's eyes when he fought Ares, in his mother's when he fought in the Titan war. When his mother had died the first time. When the Romans saw him stand off against the gorgons, when he stood against Mars in front of hundreds if not thousands of Roman soldiers. And then? He saw the fear Annie had held when fighting Misery.
His breath caught in his throat and he glanced away. He hadn't noticed when or how, but a man, looking suspiciously like him, stood next to the officer. Black hair, a scruffy stubble just barely hiding small scars, blue icy eyes that pierced and studied his every move. Had he been a cat, Percy would've hissed or at least had his fur spiking all along his spine.
The man steps forward and holds out a hand before speaking, a deep rumbling voice so gruff it reminded him of Chiron...just a little more hostile.
"My name is Bruce Wayne; I will be your caretaker until we find out why you are related to my son."
What. Son? I have a brother? No way. Sally is my mother.
"How old is your...son?"
"He's 14 currently. I believe you to be 17?"
"...well, you can't be my father, my mother might've liked you, but she was married at the time"
At that Bruce pauses, looking absolutely done before glancing at the detective who nods and looks Percy in the eyes. No. maybe the forehead or nose...
"Percy...you aren't related to your mother."
For a second the world came to a stop, he felt stiff and shaky from this whole event, but now he just felt plain nauseous. The sweat trickling down his throat contrasting the bile rising, for a moment the speed of his heart spiked, until he felt a cold object touch his shoulder.
It was Bruce.
Percy realised in that moment, the look of annoyance in the man's gaze was exhaustion, not spite. He wasn't sure if it was just the rain outside that reassured him, or just a gentle but firm hand grounding him. He wasn't sure which he preferred.
The detective who Percy just realised was named Louis Wiles, since the name tag was tiny and Percy was dyslexic, cleared his throat quietly:
"Well... I'll get you to sign some documents and you'll be on your way."
.-=-=-=-=-.-=-=-=-=-.
The drive to his house was silent. A few hooligans on the side walks making a fuss, a click of Bruces tongue every time he saw something a little out of the normal mess they'd make, a tap on the floor like a tap dripping from Percy's foot.
When the car came to a halt it lurched forward as the engine purred to a stop and the radio silenced.
His house was huge. Not Poseidon's palace huge but big for a mortal home, as that thought came Percy wondered for a moment why he hadn't come for him... not like he wanted to live with his father he was just curious.
A man, looking around 60, tall and lanky with a shined head, sideburns white and grey with stripes of black ran around his head but not the top. His suit crisp and pristine to the point he scowled at a single crease, the car door swung open giving Percy a small startle, it was loud. He didn't like doors.
As he stepped out, he could see a few lights on in the manor, and a few figures wondering about, the crunch of snow beneath his feat reminded him of the squelch his feet had made in Tartarus when walking on the heart. For a second he had to close his eyes and squeeze the door, Alfred gave him a look before taking his bag and saying "Young Perseus its is dinner in one hour, I shall assist you to your room and, perhaps a...bathroom so that you may wash up."
Percy could hear the disdain in his voice, he couldn't blame the man, he hadn't showered in 3 days and was covered in his mother's blood, and most definitely smelled like he had been stuck in a cramped stuffy teenage room filled with barley touched food rotting away...because he had been in said room.
As he stepped into the manor he was guided through the halls, sounds echoing through them like rats were watching and murmuring, the hallways were long and expansive, everything too similar. Every turn too...disorienting maybe even just like-
He felt a shudder pass through his body as he remembered all those faces in the arena. So very loud, small conversations blending into jeers. Just like the 'rats' everywhere.
He stumbled forward a little and bumped over a vase which shattered on the ground lie Gabe's beer bottles. Suddenly he felt like a child again, his body shivering like he had when the warm alcohol slithered down his body followed by blood, that shifted to Sally in his arms her body cold as her eyes rolled back in her head so far, the vessels burst and splattered all over his face.
Alfred picked up the pieces and threw it in a trashcan, before lifting me off the ground and dusting off my shoulders, he said nothing and started walking again.
For a second Percy was startled, no shouting, no glares, just silent acceptance like he hadn't destroyed a vase probably worth more than his old apartment.
.-=-=-=-=-.-=-=-=-=-.
His shower didn't help much, some of his old scars having re-opened due to his lack of nutrition and his overall mental health.
The water slowly knitted his wounds together, but it was painful considering his lack of energy. In the mirror by the sink, he realised just how gaunt he looked. He had lost weight, his skin clinging to his ribs (not horrible but not ideal) and bruises formed by said lack of nutrition that the water hadn't quite healed as it was minor and he didn't have the energy to fix it.
He quietly wrapped around his chest to make sure his ribs weren't visible then put on a shirt and pyjama pants that was rough against his skin but felt better than anything gentle.
He slowly went down for dinner, his knees shaky from the winding halls and hunger.
An aroma like the dining pavilion during dinner coming from a specific door, in which he assumed it to be an incredibly obvious place for a dining room or at least a kitchen.
When he peeked through the door at least a dozen eyes met his.
"...am I late?"
At that a boy...or man? Who looks freakishly similar to Percy down to the white streak sprouted from his head, scoffed at his words but his gaze lingered on his matching streak.
"So, this is the demon's blood relative? I see it."
"What?"
At that, a boy around 14 meets his gaze, he's very similar to Percy, just...Arabic looking, raises his voice
"You look weak. There's no way we're related."
"Does this mean I can join you all or...."
Bruce nods his head with a small grunt and Percy makes his way to an empty seat before sinking into it before dishing up a small bit of food and eating quietly as he felt their eyes burning into his scalp.
"So why is he here again?" the guy who looked like him grunted
"My mom died."
The room pauses, and icy chill running through the group.
"So, are we all motherless?"
Says a boy who looked older than the guy, whom he was calling Walmart Percy, but younger than Bruce, at the remark Walmart Percy snorted juice out his nose then cleans himself up with a tissue, Percy gives them a look before saying.
"What are your names?"
"I'm Timothy"
Said a boy who appeared wasian in some way and was nursing a cup of coffee like Gabe would to a pint of beer.
"Jason"
Continued Walmart Percy,
"Dick or Richard though I prefer dick"
"Damian"
"Duke"
"Barbara"
"I'm Stefanie but I don't live here I kind of just hang around"
Then the last person, a girl with short-ish black hair signed 'My name is C-A-S-S-A-N-D-R-A, I prefer C-A-S-S' and right as Bruce was going to translate Percy replied
"I'm not very good at sign language myself but I'm perfectly capable of understanding you," that answer got a look from half the room, but nobody spoke, the dinner continued, a bit of bickering here and there until Percy finished half his plate and felt nauseous.
"where's the kitchen I'll go put this away" that earned him a concerned look from Bruce then his plate then back at him.
"Just that door on the right"