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"Hey, d'you hear about that new skate park up by Bristol?" Duke says as he and Tim slip into their seats beside Percy. There's a gleam in his eye no other person would even be capable of having at the beginning of first period biology. "It's by the Planetarium, I think."
As always, Tim is dozing, but he cracks an eye open to glare at the other. "Duke. I've spent the past three months talking about my work on that skate park project."
Scrunching his nose, Duke pulls his textbook out of his backpack. "Suddenly it's not so cool."
"Did you turn your ears off whenever I spoke about it? You were in the room when the site permissions came through, for goodness sake."
"Sorry, were you talking just now or was it a mosquito?"
"I swear, I'm gonna-"
Percy, who was watching the conversation derail, butts in. "You guys are into skating?"
Duke makes a so-so motion. "Eh. Never got into it cause the park in the Narrows is a shithole. And boards were just never in our price range."
"Oh, yeah, I get that." Agrees Percy, fiddling with that ballpoint pen he always carries but never uses. "Spent a year working odd jobs to save up for my own board, and then my first time trying it out at my park a lightning strike started a massive trash fire."
"Maybe New York and Gotham aren't so different after all." Duke teases with an impressed whistle, reaching over to poke Percy in the arm.
Tim watched them play fight for another beat before dramatically turning their nose up at them, putting on his best impression of the average attendee of a Wayne Gala. "Ugh. Poor people. My mummy and papa thought it too undignified to go boarding my skates."
"You're ridiculous." Scoffs Duke, swinging his notebook lightly towards the side of Tim's face. He dodged, instinctively, and moved into the blow, flinching back and scrunching his nose at the sudden hit. Curse Duke and his stupid future vision. Percy is giving him that disappointed, judgy stare like he's just another village idiot, but Tim would love to see a guy with no vigilante training test his reflexes against the Signal's foresight. You would have to have godlike agility to beat that.
"So neither of you can actually skate?" The New Yorker summarises, his whirlpool irises swirling and glowing as an idea visibly takes shape inside his face.
Tim is fascinated by him as always. Percy Jackson is an enigma that flares up his ingrained desire to solve any puzzle set in front of him, and he is one particularly unsolvable puzzle. It's what drew the Bats towards him in the first place, all so sure that he is something new, - confirmed by Duke to not be meta - another undiscovered aspect of their universe that answers some previously unexplainable thing. Their theories have only gotten the more outlandish the longer they go without solid evidence. Every day their initial Jason clone idea seemed all the more plausible.
He's zoned out again. Tim takes a final swig of his Zesti, crumpling the can in one hand and tossing it expertly into the trash can at the front of the classroom. A few classmates let out impressed noises, but there is no further reaction from Duke or Percy. So interesting. "Nope. Would love to, but I've never found the time to sit and study YouTube tutorials."
"Ditto." Duke quietens into a whisper after the bell goes, not wanting to be told off when the teacher arrives.
"I could teach you, if you wanted." Offers Percy, brightly, like it's nothing at all, not even looking their way as he twirls his ballpoint pen. He suddenly seems a little cowed, tugging on his grey hairs. "I'm not, like, an expert or anything though, so don't expect too much."
The vigilantes hold themselves back from leaping at the poor guy in their excitement, Duke's own eyes gaining an amber hue in interest. For his part, Percy only snickers at their enthusiasm with a kind of fond familiarity. "Wow, you guys are just as enthusiastic as the younger campers."
"You would really do that for us?" They're both aware that they've just been called children, but the prospect of being able to hang out with Percy, who was infamously hard to reach outwith school, was too good to pass up on. And another casual mention of his ever elusive Camp.
"Course I would." He says easily, a bit too loud. From the front of the room, the teacher, a woman approaching middle age called Ms Burns, sends a raised eyebrow in warning as she prepares her slideshow. Percy stares back, not giving any sort of response, before seeming to remember that he's trying not to get another detention so early in the week, and giving a quiet apology. He flips to the final page in his notebook and rips it out, remarkably silent, and writes something out on it before sliding it discreetly over to Tim.
'Does Saturday work for you guys?' Tim stares down at the words for a moment, incredulous and not understanding. He knew Percy was weirdly good at Latin, especially for a guy as heavily dyslexic as he was, but writing a note in the language was a little ridiculous.
After he deciphered it, Tim scribbled out his own answer. 'Should be fine. What time were you thinking?'
'I'm good from midday to about 3pm, got Camp duties after that.'
Camp duties on Saturdays from 3pm. The information is stored quietly away in Tim's mental file on Percy as he considers what to respond with. '12:00 to like 13:30?' He puts the time in a 24 hour format, too used to the international way of doing things, before correcting himself. '12:00 to like half 1? Then we could go get lunch or something afterwards if you want.'
'You'll have to pick a place to eat at, but I'm down for that.'
"Mr Drake." Calls Ms Burns, snapping Tim to attention from where he was preparing to confirm the plan. She is pointing to the diagram of a squid heart, face expectant.
Owlishly, he blinks. "Sorry?"
"Too engrossed in your love letter to Mr Jackson, hm?" A low rumble of laughter rippled across the half-awake classroom, including from Percy himself. Ms Burns rolls her eyes but repeats the question. "Of the three hearts of a squid, what is this one and what is its function?"
Tim winces, having dedicated too much focus to conversing in Latin than paying attention to their new topic. Beside him, Percy discreetly mouths the answer. "The, uh, systemic? Systemic heart?"
"That's right, keep going." She comes up to their desk to take the note, though she's still looking only at Tim.
Percy manages to cough out 'circulation', which leaves Tim mentally scrambling to come up with what he could possibly say based on that hint. "It circulates the blood around the body… taking from the, um, other two hearts… and delivers… nutrients…?"
Based on the thumbs up from his desk mate, Tim assumes he said something at least remotely correct. To be entirely honest, he was just assuming it to be similar enough to the human circulatory system to bullshit his way through an answer.
"Very good." Says Ms Burns, scathing but not mean, moving her gaze downwards to the paper in her hands. "Maybe next time try it without any help from… What is this?"
To his left, Duke has his face desperately scrunched up beneath his palm, trying to hold his laughter in.
Percy coughs, also fighting to keep his smirk from tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's, uh, it's Latin, Miss."
The disappointed sigh the two receive has Duke letting out one of those tell-tale shaky exhales that tell of a last ditch effort to compose himself. Tim has never wanted to punch his foster brother in the face so hard before.
"Latin?" Questions Duke the second they're given the go ahead to pack up. "Your handwriting is ass enough in English, you didn't have to write in code, you freak."
"Oh please, like you can talk. How you can understand anything in your screamo music is beyond me." Scoffs Tim, his textbook and notes fitting snugly within his backpack.
Looking up from where he's haphazardly trying to crumple his papers into an overflowing bag, Percy corrects him with a tone of mild offense. "Screamo and death metal are two completely different genres."
"That don't even matter. Screamo's still in English." Duke gives Tim the stink eye, the Wayne blowing a raspberry back at him, maturely.
Ever the ineffective peacekeeper, Percy grins wide, showing off his wolfish canines, and tries to rectify the situation. "Can we just agree that we're all freaks in our own special ways?"
"Percy, I love you man, but you're in a league of your own on this one." Duke grimaces, clearly picturing the way Titus had ripped apart a lamb leg with his equally sharp teeth just that morning. The memory makes Tim shiver too, and the smile slides off his face comically.
"Hey, what?!"
*ೃ｡˚𓆟 ｡˚𓇼.༄
They finally all meet back up again at lunch, dragging Percy to their table as always. He plops down where he usually does, right at the edge, Tim and Duke across from him. The rest of their squad trickles in, sliding into their respective seats like clockwork. There's light conversation for a few minutes as they catch up with each other on their mornings and eat their food.
"So… skatepark this Saturday?" Duke asks, swallowing his bite of pasta and gaining Percy and Tim's attention.
"Yup." Percy, already having wolfed everything down in record time and about to steal the tangerine off Steph's tray, nods. His attempted thievery is thwarted by Steph dragging her tray close to herself possessively, hissing like a cat. Percy pouts, making his stupidly effective baby seal face. A sophomore guy the table over sees it and tosses his apple to the begging teen, throwing form baseball levels of perfection. Percy shoots him that impossibly charming smile in thanks, the Waynes watching a blush cross a few faces in the crowd. Oblivious as ever, Percy turns back to Duke and Tim. "I'll teach you guys the basics and stuff. If you're still down."
Shaking off the incredulous feeling he got seeing Percy so unaware of his affect on people, Tim sticks his tongue out. "Basics is boring. I need to learn how to double kickflip or my life is over."
"You don't know how to skate at all and you want to go right into tricks?" Bernard raises his eyebrow judgmentally, which Tim finds particularly offensive given that his boyfriend knows about his vigilante status.
The rest of their table is giving him the same look, except for Duke who sips at his water bottle, grimacing at the heavily filtered taste for a moment before shrugging. "Dunno, seems simple enough."
"You're getting way ahead of yourselves." Warns Percy, though he looks distinctly amused. Tim gets the impression that the boy doesn't believe in their confidence and is wholly content to sit back as they make fools of themselves. The unconvinced face Cass is making at him says basically the same thing. Now he has to prove them wrong, for the sake of his pride.
"Oh ye of little faith," Tim shakes his head morosely, a hand to his chest, "How could you doubt us so?"
"Okay." Percy surrenders, and Tim's last scraps of pasta is scooped up onto Percy's fork and eaten before he has the chance to blink. The core of the apple he was crunching on was picked completely off, save for the stem, like the boy is secretly a horse cosplaying as a human. "When you eat concrete don't come crying to me."
God above, this guy was strange.
As they're getting ready to get to their next classes, Duke hands over a slip of paper with a map circling the location of the park. Percy didn't have any devices except for his mom's computer, apparently, and he refused to tell them where he was staying so that they could drive him around. Percy takes the paper with a grateful smile, tucking it carefully into his wallet for safekeeping. "Thanks, man."
*ೃ｡˚𓆟 ｡˚𓇼.༄
Alfred drops them off on an empty street a block away from the skate park to avoid drawing so much attention. The pair clamber out of the car, new skateboards in hand and protective pads over their knees limiting their ease of mobility. They look like complete fools, in Duke's honest opinion, and he's ashamed to have been bullied into this misery. It's all Dick's fault, he decides. That damn cop.
Adjusting to the restrictive feeling, they waddle their way down the street, pretending that there's no eyes on them or phones pointed in their direction. Duke has never so greatly considered permanently blinding the general public as much as he did now.
Three agonising minutes later, the skatepark, and Percy Jackson, come into view. Surrounding him was a group of younger kids chattering excitedly and pointing at the slopes, presumably asking him to show off his skills. The teen chuckled, patting them gently on their helmets with a small shake of the head, shooing them off despite their begging.
Tim takes out his phone and fires off a text, the notification buzzing Duke's hoodie pocket.
Tim-Tam (11:53am)
Percy's already at the park
I think he took the bus again
Babs (11:53am)
Yep. Been reversing through CCTV to find what stop he got on at
Brucie (11:54am)
Report back when you find something.
Babs (11:54am)
Of course
stepphh B-) (11:56am)
u guys r so lame
let the kiddies have their funnn
they dont need ur dumb hovering
Damian W. (11:57am)
I am quite tired of hearing each miniscule detail about the Todd wannabe every second of the day.
If there is nothing of note to be said, keep it to yourself.
☀ Duke ☀ (11:58am)
guys cease all your yammering
Tim-Tam (11:58am)
Percy is threatening to throw our phones into the harbor if he hears them buzz again
stepphh B-) (11:59am)
lol what an icon
"Kids these days. Addicted to their devices." Scolds Percy, shaking his head like an unimpressed parent with an exaggerated frown tugging at his face, though it seems more like he's trying not to burst into laughter again. The others tuck their phones into their pockets again, zipping them up to make sure nothing goes flying out by accident. "Can't believe you guys actually rocked up in full body gear. Can't go bruising up the Waynes?"
"I'm no Wayne." Duke corrects, but he knows that the boy is just teasing. He scrunches up his face when one of the annoying loose helmet straps brush against his cheek. Beside him, Tim is fighting with his elbow pads. Someone across the street walks by, gasps upon the sight, and points their phone camera at them with a disbelieving giggle. It makes Percy lose his own control, doubling over in laughter just like he did when he first caught sight of their ridiculous getup. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Now get this shit off me."
"Hades, no. If you take that off I won't teach you any tricks." Percy wipes a tear from his eye.
They can tell he's being genuine.
"You're a cruel man, Mr Jackson." Tim, annoyed by the misbehaving protective gear, sneers harsher than he meant to. The passers-by suddenly quieten down and go back to what they were doing before, phones are immediately pointed towards the ground.
He's about to apologise for the overreaction, but Percy is not cowed in the slightest. In fact, his mischievous aura only seems to have increased. Duke isn't so sure that Percy is quite as harmless as they originally thought. "Don't I know it."
Devastatingly, but not unexpectedly, they did not start out right away with kickflips and backside ollies. Instead, Percy had them get used to getting on and off the board, standing straight, and keeping their centres of gravity low for better balance. It was a little difficult to get used to, both of them wobbling initially and panicking when their boards started to roll without their control, but Percy was there to steady them.
Annoyingly, Duke was the first to fall off his board properly, not having the same levels of balance and agility as Tim. He let his knees hit the ground first, then tipped to his side to absorb the impact with his shoulder instead of his wrists or head. For a second, Duke just lay there, thunking his helmet on the concrete and watching his skateboard fly off as a result of the momentum. Tim hovered above him, giggling his ass off while Percy fetched his board.
"Need a hand?" He offered, and Duke refused, hopping to his feet in one fluid motion, more determined than ever.
About five minutes later, Tim made the exact same mistake. All he could do was remain splayed out on the floor, staring up at the sky and listening to Duke's mocking laughter. "Karma."
They kept going at it for what felt like forever, though was really only something like an hour, under Percy's guidance. He gave them clear instructions, making sure they kept taking it little parts at a time. Even when they felt that they were ready to move onto the next step, Percy had them prove that they could do it another time, and another, and another, until they could do it with their eyes closed. It was tedious, but their confidence and skill was building, making it far easier to get a grasp over each new concept they were introduced to.
Currently, they were struggling to manage turning without nearly tipping over, overcorrecting, and jumping off the board to avoid toppling over. With clear narration, he demonstrated himself getting slowly onto the board, pointing out his stance and the placement of his feet. Out of nowhere, he asks, "Have you guys ever gone surfing?"
"Where the hell would we go surfing in Gotham?"
"The harbor, obviously." Answers Percy easily, instructing them to copy his posture, not noticing how the boys had both paused to stare at him incredulously. "Oh, c'mon, the harbor can't be that bad."
"You're not joking." Duke realises and kicks Percy's skateboard so that he goes careening down a small incline.
The New Yorker circles back with comically little struggle, crossing his arms as he disembarks. "Course I'm not. Here, I'll make a deal; if you two can successfully do a spin, I'll surf in the harbor and prove that you're just overreacting."
"You crazy son of a gun," An evil grin stretches over Duke's face, his brown eyes gaining a golden sheen if one looked closely, "I'm in. Now what were you saying?"
Proudly, Percy watches as his friends put in extra effort to learn everything he was teaching them, not caring about all the times they tripped or fell, only swearing that they would completely nail the spin. Bribery always worked wonders for motivation, he found. Those two were fast learners anyway, he knew that they would get the hang of it quickly, and he knew that the harbor posed no threat to himself.
Plus, it would be unimaginably funny to see the look on their faces. Percy couldn't wait to lose this bet.
He went around the park, testing out all the obstacles with a great amount of joy. It had been ages since he got the chance to kick back at a skate park with friends like this, without the looming pressure of a prophecy. Monsters didn't attack him much these days. They didn't bother, knowing there wasn't a chance they could get in more than a scratch.
Maybe, as absolutely deranged as it made him sound, Gotham was good for him. Everyone here was so used to crazy that Percy fit right in with the chaos. He glances back at his new friends, Duke Thomas and Tim Drake, members of the most famous and filthy rich family in the whole city, and knows that there's more to them than they're letting on. If there's one thing Percy is confident in, it's his ability to assess the capabilities of his allies and enemies. They're professionally trained, and they study Percy like he's an undiscovered species. He supposes, to them, he sort of is.
Well, Percy Jackson gives as good as he gets, and he studies them right back. Their movements, their schedules, their behaviours, their relationships. Percy isn't a Gotham resident, every day before and after school Mrs Leary transports him here to his home back in New York, so he does not spend any famed nights in the city.
One of his friends whoops in joy behind him; it seems they've finally gotten the hang of it. Only took another half hour and a few dozen mishaps. Percy lets his pointed teeth show in his smile.
He has never met one of the Gotham vigilantes in costume, but that's not to say he hasn't met them in person.
"That was fun." Tim yawns, finally peeling off his gear and dumping it into the car's trunk and slipping into the passenger seat, Duke equally glad to be rid of that damned padding. "Let's go get food. Dick, take us anywhere."
"Any suggestions from our guest?" Dick asks, turning to look at Percy as the boy awkwardly clambers into the back, clearly unused to being in a car so fancy. Sympathetic, Duke gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before he buckles himself in.
It's as if Percy has suddenly forgotten how to speak English, and he coughs to readjust himself. "I don't know what's around these parts, so I don't really care what we get. You can surprise me."
The Waynes make eye contact and come to a silent agreement. "Ever been to Batburger, Percy?"
☀ Duke ☀ (1:48pm)
i think i just went through skateboarding boot camp
Tim-Tam (1:49pm)
He gave us those exercises like a drill sergeant that didn't hate our existence
☀ Duke ☀ (1:51pm)
his dumb ahh wasn't even wearing a helmet or nothing
acting like he's invincible or smth
Brucie (1:53pm)
A military background would certainly explain a lot about his character.
His camp could very well be a training facility for young metahuman soldiers, or other unidentified beings like Percy. It is a lead worth looking into.
☀ Duke ☀ (1:55pm)
oh man, i don't wanna even consider that kinda thing
Cassie ♡ (1:57pm)
Poor Percy… :-(
Tim-Tam (2:00pm)
Oh yeah he also promised that he was going to surf in the harbor
Jason (2:00pm)
What.
*ೃ｡˚𓆟 ｡˚𓇼.༄
They make a routine out of it.
Every Saturday, same time, same place. Once or twice they fit in an extra hour during the week right after school lets out.
For the initial hangouts following their first excursion, it's still a case of Percy mentoring them and teaching them beginner level tricks until they're skilled enough to skate around the park by themselves with ease. From there, it goes from tutoring sessions to proper hangouts as friends. They spend those couple hours together just going in circles, trying new things and building their default routes.
When they speed by each other, they speak in rushed conversations with abrupt ends and jaunty pauses. Words will be lost to the wind, leading to wild misinterpretations. Laughter fills the skatepark above the whooshing of their wheels.
Duke pours hours into working on a crazy sequence of jumps and spins and flips, his acrobatic skills and foresight making it a breeze. When Tim and Percy give their best shots at replicating it, they miss out on the parts with most precise timings by mere fractions. Percy spends too long in the air and lands on his board milliseconds too late, feet pressing with such force against one end of the board that it ends up battering directly into his nose, making it bleed. That's the point in which Percy admits defeat to Duke's impossible routine.
"Guys, watch this." Tim makes a show of stretching. He takes a deep breath, gets on the board and pushes himself towards the tallest ramp. Gaining speed, Tim uses the momentum to grab hold of the top edge of the board and pull backwards. As a result, he flies up over the lip of the ramp and tenses his core as he goes upside down, landing his backflip with minor wobble.
Around him, his friends clap and cheer with enthusiasm. Whoever had been sneakily recording him looks utterly awestruck, and Tim's sure it won't be long before the video is plastered across social media.
"You're so nimble." Acknowledges Percy, assessing the boy with a sparkle in his eye. "Makes you good at all the flips and moves that need less power. I'm jealous."
Tim's heart swells at the praise, but he punches Percy in the arm, ignoring how the teen didn't flinch at all. "Don't sell yourself short. You've had years of practice, you're way better at the fine movements of this stuff."
"You guys'll get on my level in no time." Percy assures, ever humble. Like it's second nature, he does a clean loop of the skatepark. The wind sweeps through his messy hair, blowing in his face like a scene straight out of an action film.
He had mentioned surfing, before. Tim watches the easy glide of Percy's skateboard, and thinks that he would fit right in amongst the ocean's waves. Water and Percy Jackson fit together so well in his mind it's extraordinary.
Later that evening, after blowing Bruce's money on piles of food and new skateboards, Dick offers to drop Percy back home directly. He's parked by the bus stop Percy frequents, and the boy already had one hand on the door to leave. "You're a good kid, but I don't feel right letting you ride the bus alone this late."
Percy was shaking his head before Dick had tried to justify the offer. "Nah, it's alright, I'll be fine."
"At least take Tim or Duke with you?" The teens in question are looking at him like they could brainwash him into agreeing with just their staring. It doesn't work. He pushes open the car door and waves at them as he stands by the bus stop, muttering something under his breath. As if summoned, the shabby bus skids around the corner, halting long enough for Percy to get on before it books it down the street, noxious gas sputtering from its exhaust the whole way.
Defeated, they return to the Manor, where Bruce is waiting in the living room with a laptop in hand. He gives them a few minutes to sort themselves, typing away at something or another, and eyes them with one of those looks when they finally enter the room. Uh oh.
Duke is the one to break the silence, leaning forward with his hands crossed together up by his mouth. "What've you got?"
"We've tracked Jackson's routine every day for the past 4 weeks. Each morning, on weekdays, he gets on the bus at the only functioning stop in Crime Alley." Bad start, but unfortunately not much of a surprise. The idea that Percy was living unregistered in the Alley was a possibility they had considered before. "Jason reports that he has observed Jackson emerging from a series of dark alleyways before walking to his stop, and does the same afterwards. Even with enhanced night vision technology, we are unable to see exactly where he is coming from."
"There's something we're missing here that would solve all of this." Insists Tim, as he has countless times before, sure in himself.
Bruce offers him an olive branch. "It could very well be the case, but I would like to gather more information on Jackson before taking that up with the League. Maintain your surveillance until further notice."
We're not hanging out with Percy to keep watch over him. Duke is about to protest, but Bruce sweeps out of the room, so all he does is curl his hands together into a tight fist. He can practically hear the comforting whirling of a skateboard's wheels against concrete, can feel how the wind blew onto his face, and how Duke could forget he lived in the world's worst city. When he sees the joy and freedom Percy displays, Duke remembers why he risks his life to help the people of Gotham.
ೃ｡˚𓆟 ｡˚𓇼.༄
Eventually, Percy is reminded of the bet he made.
All of the Waynes took time out of their day to come down to Gotham Harbor to watch the spectacle. It was a good mix of morbid curiosity and worry for the boy.
They were not alone. A pair of teenagers Bruce swore he recognised from old news articles were standing by the piers, staring at the churning water with disgust. When their big group started to approach, the two met them halfway.
"Hello." The strikingly beautiful blonde girl says, wielding a giant foam hand - deep blue, with 'PERCY #1' emblazoned across it. Beside her, a scruffy young man shakes matching blue pom poms. "We're Percy's cheer squad."
They certainly take that role seriously, letting out exclamations of encouragement while the Waynes watch on in horror as the teen in question confidently rides the increasingly large waves. He makes it look like a typical California beach, which is a comparison none of them ever thought they could make. If Percy seemed only natural to be riding atop a skateboard, he must have been born to be on the water, with the way he subtly adjusts to every bump without even sparing a thought.
Harbor water, more sludge and pollutants than anything else, splashes up and over the decking. Tim cringes, backing away, "Yeah, I think skateboarding is enough for me."
"Well in theory it shouldn't be too difficult to surf by building on the foundations we've already got." Mumbles Duke, eyeing how Percy's stance is not too dissimilar to the one he adopts atop a skateboard. The meta boy shifts his feet, mimicking the other's posture, mentally assessing his capabilities.
Watching him warily, Bruce furrows his brow with a scowl. "Duke, I swear to-"
Steph pops open her wallet and pulls out all her bills. "45 bucks to try."
"Duke!" Bruce yells, chasing after the younger vigilante, but can already tell it's too late.
He can do nothing but watch disapprovingly as Gotham's daytime hero drifts along the surface of the water, the mysterious Percy Jackson swimming beside him to keep Duke steady.