Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The beach was empty except for them, the cold grey sky hung over the sand and the threat of rain had chased everyone else indoors. But they didn’t mind the rain. They sat side by side on a ratty blue blanket a ways up the shore, turned slightly to face each other. Bright green eyes met piercing grey, both lacking their usual warmth. He waited for her to speak first.

“No matter how many times we go over it, no matter how we look at it, the truth is we just don’t fit anymore.” The set of her jaw was firm but her eyes betrayed the emotion in her voice.

“Please, can’t we try to work this out?” He was almost pleading, but he knew her well enough to know she had already made up her mind. 

“We have been, for a while. I know you’ve been feeling it too, we’ve grown up, but our relationship hasn’t.” She ran her fingers through her blond curls and hugged her knees tight to her chest. “It feels like we’re still at the bottom of the lake, sharing our first kiss after Manhattan. But we’ve been through too much since to stay there.”

“I know.” He smiled softly, the corners of his mouth just barely turning up. “We had a good run though, didn’t we?”

She smiled back at him, watching as his black curls rustled in the sea wind. “Yeah, we did.” She said and scooted closer to him to let her head rest on his shoulder.

They stayed that way for a while, watching the waves crash into the sand and roll back into the icy November water.

“I love you, Wise Girl,” he whispered, voice hoarse, rough with sadness.

She looked up at him, eyes flickering across the familiar shape of his face, studying the scars she knew as well as she knew her own. “I love you too, Seaweed Brain, always.”

—————————————————————————————————————

The smoke of the bonfire curled upwards into the evening sky. Dusk was rapidly approaching, but the group paid no mind, even as the Spring breeze sent a chill through the air.

Percy looked around the fire to his friends, all sitting on driftwood and enjoying each other's company, laughing loudly, letting themselves truly relax in a way that is far too rare for their group.

Piper, Reyna, and Thalia were in a heated debate over the proper way to take down a Laistrygonian. Grover and Juniper held hands while they listened to Nico and Will tell some story from the most recent game of capture the flag at Camp. Frank and Hazel were equally cuddly, eating s’mores and she squealed as he poked at her with the melted marshmallow goo on his hands.

His breath caught when he saw Annabeth across the flames, deep in discussion with Leo, golden waves spilling down her shoulders and moving her hands wildly to articulate her point. He was happy for her, really. Sure, it still hurt to be reminded of what they had had, but they were better as friends.

She noticed him looking and grinned back at him. Percy turned away from the fire to watch Tyson throw a giant red ball for Mrs. O'Leary, his brother laughed as they chased each other back and forth across the beach.

But like all good things, it all too soon came to an end. 

Will was the first to notice the shift in the air, head snapping away from his conversation, eyes narrowing. The others quickly followed his lead, gripping weapons and turning heads to watch the figure steadily approaching from across the beach.

Percy hung his head in his hands and sighed. Gods, he was so tired of finally finding peace just for it to be ripped away again.

He felt a gentle heat on his back and groaned, expecting the worst. Percy slowly got up from where he sat on a log and spun around.

And there he stood, in all his stupid godly glory. He didn’t even have the decency to try and hide his divinity, his too-sharp jawline and perfect golden tan and effortless blond hair, literally glowing in the setting sun.

“Of fucking course it’s you,” Percy sighed, not even surprised anymore. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? Pretty sure I made it clear that I’m done being the gods’s favorite errand boy.”

At least Apollo looked somewhat embarrassed at this, if Percy hadn’t known better he would have thought he almost looked guilty. But he does know better and the gods don’t feel guilt.

“Percy,” Apollo began softly, “I know how unfair this must seem, but a hero’s life is never easy.”

“No, you don’t know, actually.” Percy exhaled, digging his nails into his palms, trying to keep it together. “You think spending a few months mortal makes you an expert? Because it doesn’t.” Percy said as his voice rose, he could feel himself growing angrier, the emotion simmering just under his skin. 

“ We , don’t have the privilege to complete a quest and go back to our fucking gold palace and forget about it,” Percy continued, stressing the distinction between his friends and the god in front of him. 

“We’re left with the consequences of your choices, left to clean up your messes, and you can’t even be bothered to care.” Percy spat his final words and turned to leave. “Just leave us alone, I’m done.”

“Percy, I’m sorry but it has to be you.” Apollo continued firmly, “I’m afraid that I require your special brand of assistance.”

Percy just stood there, arms crossed and scowling, which Apollo took as his cue to press forward. “There’s a situation that needs to be dealt with. A prophecy won’t be issued, it’s not a quest, so think of it more like a…mission.” 

“Fine,” he faced his friends again, “I’ll be back in a bit,” he promised. Looking back at Apollo, he gestured to move away from the comfort of the fire. “Come on, they don’t need to hear whatever this is.”

Apollo took a deep breath, taking long strides and leaving Percy to jog to keep up. “It has come to our attention that a demigod has become too involved in certain matters and risks exposing the divine world.” Apollo seemed to hesitate for a moment, his glow flickered and his ever cheery smile gave way to a slight frown. “Jack, as I knew him, went down the wrong path years ago, but recently he has become even more dangerous.” Apollo sighed, weary. “He is now known as the Joker, a villain in Gotham, and I need you to…take care of him for me.”

“And by ‘take care of’ you mean kill, right?” Percy stopped walking, dumbfounded, he thought Apollo would know better than to ask him to take the life of another half-blood, to kill one of his own. The wars had been different, he could, at least, pretend it was self defense. But to purposefully seek out and kill a demigod? Percy liked to believe he wouldn’t, couldn’t do it. Something deep in his stomach contorted itself into a queasy knot.

“Who do you think I am? And besides, why should I care? It’s New Jersey, a fucked up demigod is hardly the worst thing there.” Percy argued, but then something hit him. “Why do you care?”

Apollo shook his head. “Percy, the Joker is barely human anymore,” he insisted, “the things he has done took a toll on his soul. It’s not natural , something about Gotham corrupted him a long time ago. There is nothing anyone could do to help him, except stop him before he hurts more people. As for why I care,” the god grimaced, face twisted in remorse, “the Joker was once my son.”

Percy faltered, his mind sent into overdrive at Apollo's confession. And, like the absolute genius he is, the only thing he could think to say was “Oh.”

Apollo pursed his lips, “So now I’m sure you see why this situation is of special importance to me.” He looked up at Percy, piercing golden eyes full of an emotion Percy couldn’t quite place. Regret? Shame? maybe. “Will you help me? Please?”

Once again, Percy faltered. Had a god actually just used the magic word? Percy found it hard to believe that they could learn or grow or whatever, but maybe Apollo's time on earth really had changed him. He’d have to go over this later, but for now, “Okay, but only because you asked nicely.” Percy turned his face to the evening sky, “Hear that Zeus? He used his manners, you should try it sometime.” A low rumble of thunder answered him. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Apollo just shook his head, clearly tired of his antics and ready to be done with the whole situation. “In that case, I've already made arrangements for your stay, apparently a legacy of Mars works for a rather affluent family in Gotham and I persuaded him to let you stay in their manor.”

“Wait a minute, did you say manor? Like a rich people house? Am I staying with, like, a millionaire or something?” Percy was in disbelief, not only did Apollo bother to find him a place to stay, but in a fancy mansion? This quest, or mission, as Apollo called it, might not be too bad.

Apollo chuckled, “Yes, I believe Mr. Pennyworth said he’s a butler for Bruce Wayne, so you will be staying with a billionaire, actually.”

“Back up, Pennyworth? Like Alfred Pennyworth?” Percy asked.

“I believe so, are you acquainted with him?”

“Yeah, he visited me and my mom sometimes, when I was little, he brought us tea. I guess he knew my mom when she was younger or something,” Percy recalled the little cafe they would sit in, trading stories. Alfred would smile when Percy ordered the bluest item on the menu, but always carried a tiny jar of blue sprinkles for Percy’s hot cocoa. “I never knew he was one of us.”

“Well,” Apollo was becoming visibly restless, the glow under his skin shining brighter by the second. “Here, these are for your que-mission, I’m sure Valdez can show you how to use them.” He thrust two bronze boxes into Percy’s hands.

Percy quickly took the hint and covered his eyes as Apollo let the light consume him, vanishing to wherever gods go when they aren’t ruining your summer plans.

Percy rubbed his eyes, “What the Hades have I got myself into?”

Chapter Text

“Dude, this is so cool,” Leo muttered from where he sat crisscrossed on the floor of Cabin 3, literally sparking with excitement. He gently fiddled with the bronze phone and computer that Apollo had given Percy, his eyes gleaming in the way they always did when he worked with technology or machinery.

“I'm glad you think so,” Percy grinned as he flicked a stream of water to extinguish the flame that popped up in his friend's curls. “Personally, I don’t really see the point of having it.”

“I’m going to ignore that, because I refuse to believe that the only monster-proof tech went to the only demigod who couldn’t care less about it.”

Percy rolled his eyes and shoved another shirt into his duffel bag.

“Just put my mom’s number in and make sure Alfred's contact is set up, I probably won’t use it for anything else.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Leo grumbled before looking up and sending Percy a sly smile. “So, what else are you bringing?”

“What are you getting at?” Percy asked and raised a brow.

“Just wondering if you’re packing any extra weapons or anything,” Leo said quickly, shrugging in an attempt to feign innocence. “I know there aren’t as many monsters there because of the whole weird energy thing, but Gotham is still hella dangerous, even for mortals.”

“Bro,” Percy laughed, “if that’s your way of asking to build me a flamethrower or some other terrifying, untested weapon, I’m going to have to pass. I really don’t want to get blown up…again.”

“Hey!” Leo exclaimed. “My inventions are perfectly safe, well, mostly,” He added under his breath.

Percy laughed again. “As reassuring as that is, I already had Tyson bring me something from the forges.”

He reached beside him, where a package lay wrapped in soft blue fabric on his bed. He carefully unfolded it to reveal a shining silver key. Then, he gently picked up the key and flipped it in the air. The room shimmered with the telltale sign of the Mist as the metal morphed and stretched. When Percy caught it, the key had completely transformed into the familiar shape of an xiphos.

When Tyson had presented it to him, he had sensed Percy’s initial unease at handling a weapon that could hurt mortals, the celestial bronze and steel blade too reminiscent of Luke’s sword, Backbiter. Tyson had confidently reminded him that ‘Percy only hurts bad guys.’ Still, he had engraved the blade with swirling waves and sea stars, his own way of trying to comfort Percy.

“This is Asterías, Lou Ellen and the Hecate Cabin offered to charm it and conceal it.” Percy said as he showed Leo.

Leo whistled as he ran his finger along the hilt, admiring the delicately handcrafted weapon. He handed the sword back, then said, “Percy, Percy, Percy, how many times do I have to tell you that you can never have too many weapons, especially if those weapons can explode or catch on fire, or preferably both.” The son of Hephaestus shook his head like a disappointed parent.

“Tyson also gave me a couple of knives and he remade my shield watch, so I'm set, I promise.” Percy explained, returning Asterías to its form as a key. “No need for a special Valdez grenade or anything,” he joked.

“Valdez grenade! Now that’s a good idea,"Leo muttered, grabbing a pencil from his tool belt and scribbling furiously on a piece of scrap paper.

“Oh gods, what have I done?” Percy whispered to himself and stared at the scheming demigod in growing horror.

————————————————————————————————

Percy twirled a golden drachma over his knuckles in thought. He sighed, slumping his back against the abalone wall of his cabin, the gentle trickling of the salt water fountain mocking him. He knew he should Iris Message Alfred to discuss the mission. The man had always been so kind to Percy, there was no rational reason he should be hesitant to call. 

Alfred had never cared that the rest of the world saw Percy as nothing more than a troublemaking kid in scuffed up shoes from Manhattan. Alfred had shown that he cared about Percy, he would regularly catch up with him and his mom to see how they were doing. He had even reached out when Percy was “kidnapped” and offered his help in finding him.

 And now, Percy would be moving in with the man in a few days, so he knew he should get it over with and call Alfred, but something stopped him every time Percy thought about IMing him. 

Since Percy learned Alfred was connected to the divine world, he couldn’t seem to think of him the same as before. Realistically, he knew that Alfred hadn’t changed since they last met up, but Percy couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was different. The less logical part of Percy insisted that Alfred would view Percy differently, too. Even though sharing godly ancestors should connect the two more, he felt more separated from him. 

Percy wondered how Alfred would react when he learned the things Percy had done, the things he had had to do to simply survive. Percy wished that just one positive adult role model in his life was fully mortal and apart from his world. His mom and Paul were great, but at this point, they were deep in the divine. Alfred had been his last hope of a normal mortal mentor, but it turned out he was not only a Roman legacy, but also had been blessed by Percy's favorite goddess.

Percy closed his eyes and sighed again, working up the motivation to throw the coin through the mist when, all of a sudden, an Iris Message shimmered to life above the stone fountain near the window, as if Alfred had known Percy was about to chicken out of calling.

“Hey, Uncle Alfie, how’re you doing,” Percy called out cheerfully, moving to where the fountain rested.

“Hello, my dear boy,” Alfred responded, smiling.

“I was just about to call,” Percy totally lied, still grinning.

“Of course,” Alfred said with a knowing look. Fortunately, he didn’t press the issue. “I wanted to explain a few details of your stay in Gotham City.”

“That would be great, thanks Alfie,” Percy beamed. Frankly, he was clueless when it came to the infamous city. He didn’t really keep up with pop culture in the mortal world and he was definitely not caught up on mortal news. In his defense, staying up to date with celebrity gossip isn’t on his list of priorities when he’s literally fighting for his life so often.

“Well, perhaps the most important thing for you to know is that Batman does not like outsiders in the city, especially those with abilities like yours. Thus, you will need to exercise caution when carrying out your mission,” Alfred’s voice was deeply serious as he spoke.

“Don’t draw Batdude’s attention, got it.”

“Additionally, Master Bruce will be on a business trip for the next few days, but his children will still be at the manor. I expect you will get along very well, but I shall warn you, they can be,” Alfred paused slightly, searching for the right word, “ energetic at times.”

“Don’t worry, I have arts and crafts with Cabin 11. If I can survive competitive projectile bracelet making, I can handle a couple of hyperactive rich kids,” Percy assured him.

“Of course,” Alfred agreed, but the familiar I-know-something-you-don't look once again crossed the older man’s face.

When the call was over, Percy felt slightly more confident in his mission. He now knew the basic things he needed to know to survive in Gotham: which areas to avoid, where the harbor was, how to administer the antidotes to a concerning number of poisons, the basics.

————————————————————————————————

Percy was sitting on his bed, glaring at the pile of clothing in front of him, as though, if he concentrated hard enough, it would all magically fold itself into his bag. Maybe he should ask Chiron if there’s a god of laundry he could pray to. Percy thought Hermes might work, him being the god of travelers and all.

Just as Percy told himself he was actually going to start, someone knocked against the heavy wood door, startling him. His eyes shot to the door and his hand immediately found the silhouette of Riptide in his pocket.

“Percy, it’s Annabeth and Grover,” a low voice called.

Percy stood to open the door and tugged his best friend into a tight hug.

“G-man! It’s so good to see you. What’re you doing at Camp, I thought you and Juniper were at that protest in the city?” Percy stepped back, tilting his head in curiosity.

“It ended early, Dare Enterprises agreed to not cut down the tree and build somewhere else,” Grover bleated out and grinned.

“Nice! I’m bummed I had to miss it, packing is the worst,” Percy frowned, gesturing at the pile of clothes and supplies half sticking out of his bag.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if you hadn’t waited until the last minute,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes at him fondly.

“Whatever, we can’t all be good at planning,” Percy retorted and stuck his tongue out, very maturely, of course.

Annabeth crossed her arms and stared him down, clearly trying to hide her amusement behind annoyance. “We need to talk.”

From Percy’s experience, this never led to a happy conversation.

“About what?” He asked hesitantly, leading his friends to sit in a circle on the plush sea green rug covering the stone floor.

“Perce, are you sure you want to do this?” Grover asked and nibbled on a tin can he had pulled from his pocket, betraying his nervousness.

Percy frowned. His friends understood what life was like for a demigod, even as a son of the big three, and they didn’t try to prevent him from taking quests. They would warn him of the dangers and tell him to come back intact or else, but they didn’t try to stop him.

“Of course I don’t want to do this, but I have to. I told you what Apollo said, there’s a demigod hurting mortals,” Percy said, “I have to stop him.”

“No, you don’t,” Annabeth said, a little too sharply, she took a deep breath before continuing, “It doesn’t have to be you , Apollo can send someone else.”

“But it does.”

“Why? Why can’t someone else go?” Grover pleaded, his concern plain on his face.

“Because I know I can kill him,” Percy whispered. “I’m not sure anyone else can follow through with killing another demigod, even one as bad as he supposedly is.”

Annabeth gently took his hand and started to soothe him, “Percy-”

“Stop,” he pulled his hand away and interrupted her. “You saw me Annabeth, in Tar- in the Pit. I don’t know what he’s capable of or what he might do, but I know that I can handle it.”

“You don’t mean that,” Annabeth’s voice was quiet, eyes growing wide in alarm.

“No, I won’t do that ,” Percy amended, nearly shouting in his panic, understanding what Annabeth had mistakenly picked up on. “I won’t ever do that again. I just meant that I’ve been through a lot more than the other campers. But I would do it all over again if I had to, because otherwise someone else would, and I couldn’t live with myself if I just sat there and watched,” Percy said, his voice shaky but firm.

Even as the empathy link had faded with time and physical distance and divine meddling, Percy had been able to sense the faint traces of Grover’s emotions. And as they sat there, Percy felt the sadness rolling of his best friend in waves.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Grover spoke after a moment, “We were being selfish, trying to keep you here, with us.”

Percy gave him a soft smile, accepting his apology.

“What about your mom?” Annabeth asked. She was not ready to move on.

“I already told her and she understands. I mean she’s upset, but she gets it,” Percy shrugged.

“What about college?” Annabeth asked and crossed her arms against her chest in frustration. “Classes at New Rome start in a few weeks, what if you aren’t done with this mission in time?” The disdain was evident in her voice.

Percy tried to ease the blanket of tension that had spread across the room. “Me and school never got along anyway,” he joked.

Grover awkwardly chuckled and looked back and forth between them nervously, chewing on a paper plate.

“Ugh!” Annabeth ran her fingers through her hair in exasperation. “Can’t you take something seriously for once? I’m trying to get you to understand and you’re joking around like none of it matters.” She stood up to pace the length of the room.

“Understand what, Annabeth?” Percy demanded and stood to meet her level, his voice rising in volume and intensity. “Please, tell me how school could possibly be so important that it beats stopping a demigod from murdering innocent mortals and revealing the secrets of the gods,” he practically screamed the final words.

“Because you’d be safe!” She cried, abruptly ceasing her pacing and standing on the other side of the cabin. A tear ran down her cheek and when she spoke again, her voice was barely audible. “Because New Rome would keep you safe. Because I wouldn’t have to wake up every morning and wonder if it was the day that something finally got you.”

Percy couldn’t speak for a moment, face slack in shock.

“Annabeth, I-” he began, voice quiet, “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

Annabeth shook her head in dejection and silently walked out of the cabin, leaving the door to swing slightly in the breeze. Grover stood to follow her, but turned back to Percy as he reached the door.

“I know you think you have to do this, so I won’t even try to stop you. Good luck, I guess,” he muttered, slipping out the door and shutting it with a final click behind him.

Chapter Text

Percy fidgeted in his seat on the faded leather sofa. He tapped his foot and twisted the clay beads on his necklace. When Chiron had called him to the Big House, Percy had known to prepare for the familiar anti-pep talk the centaur liked to give before quests. Chiron was by far the best teacher Percy had ever had, though his Pre-Algebra teacher had ended up to be a Fury and tried to drag him to Hades, so maybe Percy didn’t have the best frame of reference. However, instead of the usual depressing don’t-die-like-the-other-heroes-I’ve-trained talk, Chiron started to try to talk him out of leaving. It was safe to say Percy was entirely confused.

“Did she put you up to this?” Percy asked hesitantly, it went without saying who ‘she’ was. Basically the entire camp knew Annabeth and Percy were fighting as soon as they had sat at different tables in the dining pavilion for the first time in months.

“No, Perseus, though she has shared her concerns with me,” Chiron said, his tired smile sagging at the corners.

“Uh oh, full name,” Percy joked. “Am I in trouble?” Chiron only used his full name when Percy had done something stupid like try to balance Riptide on his nose or if something was really wrong.

“No,” Chiron said, rubbing at his temples. “I fear what Gotham has in store for you, we both know your propensity for finding trouble.”

“It’s more like trouble has a propesanty for finding me ,” Percy said through a smirk. He hoped he used that word right, he’d be embarrassed if he was way off.

“Indeed,” Chiron chuckled fondly, but the centaur’s smile faded further. He silently stared at the demigod in deep thought. After a long moment, he sighed, stroking his beard. “I suppose you should change your clothes, then.”

Percy was speechless, which didn’t happen often. He had been ready for Chiron to fight him on the matter more, but the way he had simply conceded almost made it seem like Chiron knew something he didn’t, which honestly might be the case, he was an immortal horse-man who had trained countless heroes for thousands of years.

Percy thanked him before trudging back to his cabin to change and collect his things. He picked out a clean Nirvana band tee and the least holey jeans he owned. He layered a long sleeve striped with shades of blue underneath to cover his arms and a baby blue beanie to hide the streak in his hair. He tugged on his favorite chucks, the ones that Rachel had doodled all over in shades of blue and green paint.

He had already said his goodbyes to Camp and his family in Manhattan. The only person he hadn’t spoken to was Annabeth, but every time he tried, they fought. It hurt. A lot. They had been best friends, allies, partners for nearly six years, but they couldn’t seem to get past this fight.

They had decided to take a break from each other, Annabeth was spending the final weeks of summer at camp then going to New Rome and Percy was going on this mission and then…he wasn’t sure. College didn’t sound all that appealing, not after years of struggling in school. But, he had no clue what career he might be interested in either because he hadn’t ever believed he would ever be old enough to have one.

When he had been introduced to the world of the gods, he had accepted early on that he would die young. That’s just the way the life of a demigod goes. But, the Romans had shown him that maybe he could make it past his teens. So, now he was faced with a future he hadn’t thought he could have, forced to find a path that had never been open to him.

—————————————————————

Percy reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a shining golden drachma.

“Stêthi! Ô hárma diabolês,” He shouted in Ancient Greek and tossed the coin onto the road.

The pavement swallowed the drachma and Percy waited expectantly. After a moment the asphalt darkened, deep red-ish shadows pooled where the coin had disappeared. It melted and bubbled, horrifyingly reminiscent of blood. Suddenly, a silvery taxi burst out of the puddle into the road, tires bouncing slightly with the force of its ascent. The cab resembled every other New York City taxi, except its surface shifted like smoke trapped behind glass. Written on the side was ‘Gray Sisters’ in a very dyslexia-unfriendly font. For a service mostly geared towards demigods, they didn’t seem to care if their logo was readable.

He sighed and slid into the crumbling, cracked seat. He was definitely starting to regret not taking Blackjack.

“Gotham City, please.”

The three greasy women in the front hunched in the front seat whipped around to look at him. Or well, the one with the eye looked at him, the other two sisters just turned their dirty, wrinkled faces in his general direction.

“Gotham? Hmm?” The lady who currently had the tooth shrieked, her voice grated against his ears like jagged metal on concrete.

“Out-of-metro fee!” The woman gripping the steering wheel with bony fingers cried.

The third sister blinked the bloodshot green eye at him, or winked? It was hard to tell because she only had the one eye. Then, the sisters turned back towards the road and floored it. The taxi shot forward as Percy scrambled to clip the rusty chain that was supposed to serve as a seatbelt, he remembered being thrown around last time and was not eager for a repeat.

—————————————————————

Percy stumbled out of the cab, his stomach was churning and his head was spinning. He took a swig of water from the bottle in his bag, letting the cool water revive him. He was grateful to be back on solid ground, the taxi was efficient, but the sisters had screamed and fought over the eye and yellow tooth the whole way. Not to mention, the sisters hadn’t let off the gas pedal the entire ride, breaking every traffic law Percy could think of.

He had told them to drop him a block away, he figured the Waynes would probably be weirded out by three crusty old ladies driving a taxi made of smoke. So, he shouldered his duffel and started the walk to the Manor. Luckily for him, the few minutes he spent walking were just enough to send him deep into a state of anxiety. 

Now that he had a moment to process what he had gotten himself into, he realized he was entirely unprepared for his mission. How in the gods’s names was he supposed to take down a supervillain that had plagued the streets of Gotham for years? The local vigilantes, who had dedicated their lives, or their nights at least, to fighting crime had failed and now Percy was expected to get it done in a few weeks.

By the time he reached the massive iron gate, Percy was nervous in a way he hadn’t been for years. One would think the twice Savior of Olympus could easily deal with whatever weird rich people shit he would encounter, but the air around the manor felt off. Sure, Percy could practically kill a cyclops in his sleep and he’d survived multiple wars against beings far scarier than anything a mortal could throw at him, but Percy didn’t know what to expect from his stay in the manor, and that made him nervous.

Before he could spiral even deeper into his thoughts, the gates swung open, strangely silent. As he walked down the absurdly long gravel path, Percy finally cleared his head enough to fully take in the sight of the manor. He could feel the rolling waves of the Atlantic, far below the cliff on which the manor was perched overlooking the bay. 

Percy furrowed his brow as a realization struck him. The ocean wasn’t the only water he sensed. He was also aware of what felt like a waterfall as well as some sort of large body of water, hidden partially beneath the manor and carved into the rocky cliff. He tucked away the knowledge for later. 

The manor itself was massive, easily the biggest house Percy had ever seen, towering at least four stories tall. The grounds were meticulously kept but the creeping ivy and blood red roses only enhanced the creepy, haunted mansion vibe, Annabeth would know a better word for the aesthetic.

Percy sighed and gripped the strap of his duffel bag tighter, fighting the urge to turn around and go back home. His mom would love to see him and it felt like Estelle was getting bigger every day, he hated to spend so much time away from them. He sighed again, forcing his feet to carry him the final steps up to the doorstep. The large mahogany door loomed over him, the bronze lion head knockers frozen in twin snarls. If the Waynes had intended to scare away solicitors, it was definitely working. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open, revealing a gentleman- Percy couldn’t imagine the person before him could ever be just a man- with graying hair. He was dressed in a smart black suit and shining black shoes.

“Uncle Alfie!” Percy grinned, dropping his bag to envelop the man in a tight hug.

Despite IMing frequently, they hadn’t had the chance to visit in person in months. They had met up once since the Pit to chat but then school had started and Percy had to fight to catch up with what he had missed thanks to Hera. Then, Percy had been busy at Camp all summer. The battle with Gaea from the previous summer had left Camp in rough shape. Wherever he looked there were buildings to be repaired and new cabins for the minor gods to be built and countless other tasks to restore Camp Half-Blood to its former glory. Not to mention, the ground itself had to be repaired because the hordes of monsters had torn up the soil and the Earth Mother had created roiling mounds throughout the camp. Needless to say, Percy had been kept busy, even occasionally driving up to Long Island on weekends during the school year to help out.

“Percy, my dear boy, it is a pleasure to see you again,” Alfred smiled, reaching up to return the embrace.

“ Uncle ?” A boy repeated, voice dripping in disdain, causing Percy to step back, his hand twitching towards his pocket where he knew Riptide waited.

“Pennyworth, who is this boy?” the young man spat. His dark green eyes narrowed dangerously, and he, oddly enough, also appeared to be itching to reach for a weapon.

Percy kept his face carefully neutral, his eyes flicked to Alfred, who simply gave a comforting nod. At this, Percy forced his shoulders to relax, fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt around his wrists, exhaling slowly to calm himself.

Alfred ushered Percy through the door and turned to face the young boy. “Master Damian, this is Percy Jackson, the boy I told you about, please try to be welcoming to our guest,” he said in his familiar British accent.

“Hey, I’ll be staying here for a bit,” Percy said and shrugged, allowing a small smile to spread onto his face. He kicked off his shoes and picked his bag up.

“Tsk. I am Damian Wayne, blood son and heir of Bruce Wayne,” the boy introduced himself smugly, practically looking down his nose at Percy, despite being nearly a full foot shorter.

Percy furrowed his brows, did this preteen really just ‘tsk ’ at him? 

Luckily, before Damian had the chance to continue his interrogation, a boy around Percy’s age with a large mug and a man in his mid-twenties strode into the foyer.

“You must be Percy! I’m Dick Grayson.” The older of the two, dressed in a concerningly vivid floral button-up, grinned, sticking out his hand to shake. “Sorry about Dami, it’s been such a struggle to get him housetrained.” As he shook his head in amusement, his black hair fell messily into dark blue eyes, creating a striking image against his tan skin.

Percy snorted, admittedly at both the man’s comment and his name, after all, he was a teenage boy. “No problem, I’ve got a cousin just like him, too much grumpy attitude packed into a 5 foot frame.”

The second boy, a teen around Percy’s age, also with dark hair and blue eyes, laughed, choking on his coffee as he did. “Oh my god, I love you already,” he coughed into the sleeve of his navy hoodie, “I’m Tim.”

Percy grinned at Tim. “Thanks, it’s a cozy place you’ve got here, real quaint,” he said dryly.

“Yeah, it’s a bit much, I still get lost sometimes,” said yet another boy, sliding into the room on mismatched socks. “I’m Duke,” the boy nodded at Percy, deep brown coils bouncing against dark skin.

“Oh my gods, how many of them are there?” Percy asked and spun his head to stare at Alfred.

The butler chuckled softly, “Masters Timothy, Duke, and Damian live in the Manor, but Master Dick has an apartment in Bludhaven. You will likely also see Master Jason, though he lives in the city. Miss Cassandra is in Hong Kong for work, and Miss Stephanie and Miss Barbara, not legally members of the family, but they often come by the Manor.”

“And I thought my family was big,” Percy shook his head, trying to commit the new information to memory.

“Luckily, our situation is quite different,” Alfred winked at Percy before addressing the others. “Dinner shall be served shortly, why don’t you show Percy to his room while I finish preparing the meal.”

“Sure, Alfred,” Dick smiled and began to lead the way up the grand staircase.

As they walked through the halls, the brothers would point out various rooms they passed. Or, more accurately, Tim and Dick would point out rooms, whereas Damian just silently marched behind them, never taking his eyes off Percy.

“So, Percy,” Tim began, attempting casualty, but Percy could see the calculating look behind his pale blue-grey eyes. “What’re you doing in Gotham? I can’t imagine anyone would want to vacation here.”

“What? A guy can’t appreciate a city of creepy gargoyles, nocturnal vigilante bat furries, and the weirdest crimes ever?” Percy smirked as Tim once again choked on his coffee, Dick chuckled, and Damian just looked outright deadly. “What? Did I touch a nerve?”

“Gothamites are very…defensive of the city’s heroes,” Tim replied, searching for the right words, the sharp look now evident on his face. “But you didn’t answer.”

“True,” Percy met Tim’s suspicion with a blank face. He took a moment to study the portraits they passed, careful to leave his body language open, even as he longed to feel the comfortable weight of Riptide in his hand. When he answered, they had already reached his room. “I’m here for work, I guess.”

“With which company? Father may have discussed it,” Damian asked, not bothering to hide his distrust. 

At least one of them was easy to read, Percy thought. The others seemed like professionals at schooling their demeanor to present the perfect facade, all while mentally dissecting him. For what? Lies? Holes in his story? Weaknesses? Percy didn’t know.

“It’s a private, family-run business, you probably don’t know it,” Percy replied easily, opening the door. “Well, thanks for showing me around, but I’m going to try and unpack a bit before dinner,” he added, a clear dismissal to his welcome committee.

“Right, we’ll leave you to it, then,” Dick shot his younger brothers a look, more or less shoving them down the hallway and calling behind him, “Just come downstairs when you’re ready.”

Percy nodded and closed the door, finally able to take a deep breath without the suffocating feeling of being watched. He flopped face down onto the massive plush bed and groaned. “Oh my gods, why is my life like this?”

There was something very obviously off about Wayne Manor. The house itself was creepily quiet and its inhabitants were decidedly up to something. He was dreading sneaking around Gotham even more, he now had to watch for the Bats when he was out in the city and the Waynes when he wasn’t.

He wished Annabeth were there. She would know what to say and why the Waynes gave off such weird energy and what to do about this stupid mission. But he had to go screw everything up and now he couldn’t even talk to his friend, no matter how badly he wanted to. They both needed space, which was what had caused their break up in the first place. In the Pit, they had grown so reliant on each other it was hard to think of themselves as separate people afterwards. It was never just Percy or just Annabeth, always Percy and Annabeth. Maybe, if they hadn’t fallen down there, they would still be together. It felt like his relationship was just yet another thing he had lost to the world of the gods.

Percy tore himself from his musings, now was not the time to spiral. He groaned again and rolled over to glare at the ornate geometric design carved into the ceiling, gathering the energy to get up.

Trying to make himself somewhat more presentable, Percy tugged off his hat and messed with his hair a bit. A losing battle if you asked him, but his mom had always tried to tame his curls into behaving, looks like the habit stuck. In the attached bathroom, Percy splashed cool water onto his face, willed himself dry, and did his best to collect his thoughts.

Hesitantly, he dug Asterías out of the side pocket of his duffel bag and slipped it into the pocket of his jeans. Maybe he was being a bit paranoid, but Percy wanted to be prepared for anything. Logically, he knew the Waynes were regular mortals, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were hiding something. And he was going to figure it out.

 ‘It’s just dinner , it can’t be that bad’ he assured himself. He should have known that his patented demigod luck wouldn’t allow for a nice, peaceful family gathering.

Chapter Text

Percy strolled into the kitchen, having easily retraced his steps to the foyer then wandered a bit before finding the right room. Tim, Dick, and a buff man that Percy didn’t recognize were gathered around a small table off to the side. The trio shifted their attention up at Percy as soon as he walked in, passing a look between themselves that he couldn’t quite identify.

“Oh, hey, you must be Jason, right?” Percy said and did his best to smile politely. He immediately regretted it when the man visibly tensed, rising to his full height and squaring his shoulders.

“Who’re you?” He asked, voice gruff and low, no hint of the easy-going demeanor he had just worn with his brothers.

Percy matched his energy, reaching to curl his fingers around Asterìas where it rested in his pocket, cautious but ready to fight if he had to. The man was armed, Percy could see the faint outline of a knife holster beneath his t-shirt and, based on the thin white scars along his arms, he had plenty of experience using it. That or he had a messy encounter with a very angry cat at some point.

“I’m Percy,” he said and, after a moment of consideration, added, “Jackson.” He narrowed his eyes, gripping Asterías tighter.

The man simply grunted in recognition. “I’m Jason, Alfred told me about you.”

“All good things I hope,” Percy smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Nice hair,” Jason said and seemed prepared to study his response.

Percy faltered, bewildered at the bizarre shift in conversation. Maybe talking about haircuts was Jason’s way of bonding, he wondered. Percy looked to Dick and Tim, gauging their reactions, but they looked just as serious as their brother, apparently all the Waynes were deeply interested in his hair style choices.

“Um thanks?” Percy stammered, thoroughly confused, that is until he noticed a streak of white almost hidden amidst Jason’s black hair, a streak concerningly similar to Percy’s own. In fact, Jason, apart from his scarily muscled build, looked eerily similar to Percy, down to the green eyes and scars across their skin. 

His eyes widened and narrowed again, “Yours is pretty cool, too.”

“Thanks, I got it when I was a few years younger than you,” and, despite Jason’s tough appearance, Percy recognized the cold calculating look that his siblings had had earlier, a look that all of the Waynes present currently had.

Seriously , what kind of rich people, haunted mansion shit is going on? Percy mentally kicked himself for trusting Apollo to find a suitable place to stay.

“Mine’s a souvenir from a trip I took when I was 14,” Percy replied and raised an eyebrow, two could play at vague answers. He didn’t miss Tim pulling his phone out and texting someone at a speed Percy didn’t think possible.

Percy sensed Alfred before he entered the room, forcing himself to wait to turn until the Waynes acknowledged the butler.

“Young masters, I do hope you are treating our guest respectably,” Alfred stated, a knowing glint in his eye as he looked carefully between Percy, Tim and Dick, and Jason. “Percy is a personal friend of mine and shall be treated civilly.”

Percy felt himself relax under the man’s watch, letting himself relax under the safety of a familiar face at his side.

“What do you mean, personal friend , Pennyworth?” Damian demanded, literally appearing out of the walls.

“Holy Her-heck, kid!” Percy startled.

Evidently, the boy had slipped out from inside, what Percy had assumed to be, a solid wall. On further inspection, Percy could just barely see the faint seam of a hidden door. He made a note to himself to be more vigilant, something was up with Wayne Manor, and he needed to be cautious.

“Master Damian, must I remind you that using the passageways to surprise our guests is not appropriate behavior?” Under Alfred’s scolding stare, Damian frowned and mumbled something under his breath, maybe an apology, but most likely a threat to Percy’s general well-being. Satisfied, Alfred turned to begin pulling various dishes from the cabinets.

“Well, that was certainly concerning,” Percy smirked, “Reminds me of home.” Cabin 11 had given Percy plenty of experience with kids suddenly popping out of strange places and threatening to hurt him. Tim frowned and sent another text.

“To answer your question, Master Damian, Percy’s mother is a dear friend of mine, we met years ago through our mutual passion for literature, and have stayed in touch since,” Alfred informed the youngest boy, who let out a quiet hmph.

“Sally is the best, isn’t she,” Percy couldn’t help but grin thinking about his mom, Alfred mirrored it with his own as he left the kitchen, carrying the stack of dishes.

“Wait, are you telling me that Sally Jackson is your mother?” Jason asked.

“Sally Jackson-Blofis actually, but, yeah?”

“The best-selling author ?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s her, do you read her books?” Perhaps Percy had judged this guy too fast, anyone who could appreciate his mom and her writing probably couldn’t be that bad.

“ Yeah , I read her books,” Jason said, looking at Percy like he was an idiot, unfortunately years in public school with ADHD and dyslexia left Percy all too familiar with that look. “I’m dying waiting for the third book, the last one killed me with that cliffhanger. I heard that she had to delay it ‘cause of some personal emergency,” Jason said, genuinely bummed out, but he had lost most of the tension in his stance. 

Percy wished more fights could be deescalated by talking about how awesome his mom is, it would make his life a lot easier.

“My bad,” Percy said sheepishly, “I went missing for a few months and she took some time away from her writing.”

The room went quiet, no one was quite sure of how to respond, even Tim forced his gaze from his phone to stare at Percy.

“I’m just gonna ignore that for now,” Dick sighed. “ Anyway , as entertaining as it’s been to watch Jason fangirl over Percy’s mom, I think Alfred’s done with dinner,” he continued as he pushed Tim, who had gone back to his frantic typing, towards the dining room, leaving the others to follow behind.

Percy let the Waynes find their chairs first, unsure of where he was expected to sit. Thankfully, when Tim noticed Percy standing awkwardly by the door, he called him over and offered the seat between himself and Duke. Percy was hesitant to sit anywhere near Damian, even if it was across the huge oak table, but he sat anyway, glad that Jason also sat across from him. Percy thought they would get along, Jason reminded him of Clarisse a bit, tough on the outside but nice enough in their own way when they warm up to you.

Alfred brought out platters piled with vegetables and mashed potatoes and rolls and roasted meat. The butler set a plate piled high with food in front of each person. The rest of the table was already digging in, savoring the meal, but Percy had lost his appetite. The stress of the day was finally getting to him and the smell wafting off the steak reminded him too much of dinner at Camp. Percy poked at his potatoes, struggling to keep his breathing even. When he looked up, Damian was watching him with narrowed eyes, because of course he was.

“Is something wrong?” Oh good, Tim had also noticed.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired,” Percy lied, but it was obvious nobody believed him. 

The last thing he needed was everyone worried about what he was, or rather, wasn’t, eating. Percy carefully took a sip of water, willing his nerves to settle. This was not working, Percy could feel himself panicking and he needed to get out. 

“Can someone show me to the bathroom?”

Tim nodded and stood up, his heavy wooden chair scraping against the stone tile with a squeal. Percy winced and followed him into the hall as his heart began to race. He offered a brief smile in thanks when they reached the bathroom, though it probably came across as more of a grimace. Tim nodded in return, concern plain on his face.

———————————————————

Percy gripped the edge of the sink, taking slow, deliberate breaths in and out. He really didn’t want to explode another bathroom because his body went into fight or flight, this time over a stupid plate of food. He turned the faucet to let ice cold water run over his hands in an attempt to ground him.

A soft knock at the door caused him to jump, hand flying to hold Riptide, thumb on the cap, ready for a fight. Even though the celestial bronze blade wouldn’t touch a mortal, Percy had instinctively gone for the familiar weight of the only sword that had ever felt like it belonged in his grasp.

“Percy?” A quiet voice called to him. “Are you alright, my boy?”

Percy shut the sink off and opened the door, hand only slightly shaky, which he would take as a win.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Uncle Alfie,” He answered in a small voice, trying to reassure the older man, but his voice broke and Alfred’s frown deepened.

“I’m just frustrated and sad and embarrassed , I thought I was over this, it’s been more than a year,” Percy sighed. He rubbed his eyes with his palms to hide the gathering tears. 

“We both know progress isn’t linear, and you have recovered remarkably, considering all you went through.” The butler gently placed a comforting hand on Percy’s shoulder.

“I know,” Percy inhaled shakily, starting to walk back to the dining room. “Who would’ve thought living off of a literal river of fire would have screwed up my relationship with food,” he quipped.

Alfred was not pleased with Percy’s attempt to make light of the situation. “Percy, is there someone you would like me to call?”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll probably IM Mr. D later and I’ll try to talk to Nico soon, he’s been struggling with similar stuff,” Percy told Alfred, whose frown was replaced by a more neutral facade.

They stopped short of entering the dining room, turning to look at each other. 

“What about Annabeth?” Alfred asked hesitantly.

Percy tugged at his sleeves, buying time to answer. “She doesn’t- we aren’t really talking right now. We sorta had a fight. She’s at NRU and asked me to join her next semester, she didn’t want me to come here. I don’t know, it’s just complicated.”

“Alright then, if you are quite certain.” Alfred thought for a moment and added, “I shall supply you with snacks you may keep in your room, for when you do feel up to eating, and please let me know if I can help in any other way.”

“Thank you, Uncle Alfie, really. It’s nice to have someone that understands what it’s like. I know my mom tries, but she’s not like us,” Percy said quietly.

“I know,” Alfred replied and wrapped his arms around the young demigod, pulling him into a tight hug.

Percy took one last deep breath, rolled his shoulders back, and stepped back into the dining room. The Waynes promptly pretended they hadn’t been listening through the door and started chatting about nothing in particular. Percy just rolled his eyes and sat back down as Alfred began clearing the table. Of course, Percy jumped right back up to help with the after dinner chores when he noticed, leaving the Waynes gaping at him in surprise.

“Relax, I’m just helping out with the dishes because I wasn’t raised by wolves and my mother taught me to be helpful ,” Percy smirked, rolling his eyes at them. “Actually, I have-had a friend that was raised by wolves and he offered to clean up when he ate at my place, so you guys definitely don’t have an excuse,” he added, taking a stack of plates into the kitchen. 

It was true, too, Jason had always made sure to help clean up when he visited. Like a lot of Percy’s friends, he had craved the presence of a loving parent figure in his life and, like the saint she is, Sally had welcomed him with open arms. Over the past year, the Jackson-Blofis apartment had become a sort of haven for demigods. There were usually at least a couple campers over for dinner on the weekends, and a few, like Nico and Jason, even stopped by to visit during the week.

As soon as the Waynes assumed Percy was out of earshot, they began whispering about the conversation they had overheard. Unfortunately for them, Percy had excellent hearing thanks to his godly not-DNA.

“Didn’t eat…calls Alfred uncle…NRU… wolves .” Percy had heard enough.

He marched back into the dining room and mustered up a false sense of self-confidence. “If you’re going to gossip about me, you might as well get the information straight from the source,” he told them, jaw set and shoulders back.

“Oh, we weren’t-” Tim started.

“Dude, I literally heard you from the kitchen, next time you’re trying to talk about someone behind their back, maybe wait for them to get more than a wall away.”

At least they had the decency to look embarrassed, well most of them, Damian just frowned and muttered something in a language Percy couldn’t understand.

“Sorry about that, we were being rude.” Dick shot his little brother a we’ll-discuss-this-later look and turned to Percy. “How about we hang out later, that way we can get to know each other.”

Percy realized it wasn’t an invitation, it was an order. “Okay, did you wanna watch a movie or something?” he suggested, surely watching a movie would be super chill and lowkey and not at all stressful.

As usual, he was incredibly wrong.

———————————————————

Percy and the others were spread out across a large theater room on the second floor of the manor. Comfy recliners, sofas, and beanbags were positioned haphazardly to face the massive screen at the front of the room. Percy tried to choose a chair against a wall, with both exits in sight, but the nature of the room made it impossible, as such, Percy’s view of the door on the right was partially obstructed, leaving him on edge. Alfred had made popcorn for each of them, but Percy’s container remained untouched at his feet, though he happily sipped on the electric blue slushie Alfred offered.

“I was thinking we could watch the new Jake Steel movie, I heard it’s supposed to be good,” Tim said as Duke rapidly clicked a remote.

“No you didn’t, you just think Tristan McLean is hot,” Duke teased, causing Tim’s ears to turn pink.

Percy choked on his drink and started coughing. “Oh my gods, ew!” Realizing how that sounded and noticing the subtle uncomfort and hurt on Tim’s face, Percy quickly backtracked. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m Grecian, thinking men are hot is practically in my blood,” he amended. “My problem is thinking Tristan McLean is hot, that’s all.”

“Why? He’s actually pretty nice, I got to meet him at a gala Bruce held a while back,” Dick asked.

“Huh, small world,” Percy said thoughtfully. “But, it’s gross because he’s my friend’s dad.”

“You expect us to believe you are friends with Piper McLean?” Damian chimed in, having been content to quietly observe until that point.

“I’ve got connections in high places,” Percy winked and added, “And low places, but why do you care so much?”

Damian spluttered, visibly flustered. “I appreciate the connection to her heritage she displays in her video diary.”

“Oh this is too good, Demon Brat watches Percy’s friend’s vlogs ,” Jason cackled, barely looking away from the pieces of popcorn he was throwing into the air and catching in his mouth.

“Should I get her autograph for you?” Percy deadpanned, then laughed at the murderous glare Damian sent his way.

Dick stepped in before his youngest brother could draw a weapon, although he was struggling to hide his own grin. “Okay, so we’re not watching that, how about Hercules? The soundtrack is arguably one of the best to come from an animated movie.”

“No way, Circus Boy, it’s so inaccurate to the original mythology!” Surprisingly, Jason spoke before Percy had the chance to. The man was definitely growing on Percy.

“Thank you! It’s insufferable and Heracles is the literal worst,” Percy added.

“Can we just pick already?” Tim groaned, sinking deeper into the couch he was sharing with Dick.

“Do you have any suggestions, Timmy?” Dick poked him, prompting Tim to slap his hand away.

“How about Lilo and Stitch?” Tim mumbled from underneath a blanket, piquing Percy’s interest.

“Is that good with everyone?” Dick asked, looking around for any objections.

“For sure,” Percy answered, perhaps a little too quickly.

“You a fan?” Jason drawled, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, I just appreciate the weird blue alien causing absolute chaos that the government has to deal with, it reminds me of my childhood,” Percy quipped, “Also, there’s surfing.”

“Can’t you say anything that isn’t vague and concerning?” Tim asked.

“Afraid not, Tiny Tim,” Percy shot back.

“Did you just call me-”

“As much as I’d love to see where this goes, I’m pushing play so shut up,” Duke interrupted.

Tim glared past his blanket at Percy, who just flashed a grin and winked, making Tim roll his eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.