Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bruce strode into his office, the door closing behind him with a squeak. He adjusted the hands on the grandfather clock until it showed 10:47, silent it opened, revealing the hidden elevator. As he descended into the Cave, Bruce massaged his temples preemptively—this briefing would not be stress-free.

When the elevator doors slid open, the usual cacophony of his family greeted him. Sometimes Bruce wondered which was louder: his extended family or an actual flock of aggravated birds and bats.

“I have an announcement to make regarding our family,” he said once he reached the Batcomputer and had everyone’s attention.

Savoring the last moment of silence, Bruce continued, “In a few hours, a new kid will arrive at the manor. I’ll be fostering him for the foreseeable future.”

Sweet silence.

“What the fuck, Bruce? Again?”

“Haha! I knew it. Pay up, Tim.”

“That is unacceptable, Father.”

Bruce sighed. His reputation really worked against him—especially when, for once, none of this was his fault.

He opened a file on the Batcomputer and projected an image of a muscular teenager with jet-black hair and sea-green eyes for all to see.

“This is Perseus Jackson. He’s a cousin of mine. His mother died a few months ago, and his father is unknown. As his last living relative, I’ve agreed to take him in.” He clenched his jaw slightly—maybe no one would ask the question.

“That could’ve been a text in the group chat. You’re hiding something. What is it?” Of course, it would be Tim to notice what wasn’t said.

Bruce folded his arms. “I’m investigating Perseus because there’s a strong possibility he’s involved in an international cult with terrorist inclinations. While he’s here, our mission is to gather as much information as we can about his connections—and help him get out.”

Now he had their undivided attention. Even though he couldn’t see her, Bruce knew Barbara was watching from her station.

“Since he was twelve, Perseus has vanished every summer for weeks—sometimes months—at a time. During those periods, he’s been spotted across the United States, often near scenes of property damage involving explosions or fires. In recent years, he’s also been found in parts of Europe—seemingly appearing out of nowhere before disappearing again—and wherever he goes, destruction follows. Numerous official investigations have been launched, including a nationwide manhunt a few years ago, but each one was abruptly shut down by higher authorities. I’ve been unable to trace where those shutdown orders are coming from.”

Bruce finished. His children sat silently before him, no doubt processing every detail. Tim was already typing away on his tablet, likely digging for more data.

“Wait a minute, old man,” Jason broke the tension, a grin on his face. “Does this mean I finally get to be the morally superior brother?”

“Jason!”

“Oh, come on. We’re fostering a potential child soldier from a creepy cult—so what? It’s not like it’d be the first time. Only this one’s less assassin and more terrorist. That’s progress in my book.”

Bruce cleared his throat to interrupt his children before they could lose themselves in bickering.

“We’re fortunate that Perseues seems to have direct contact with the cult primarily during the summer. The rest of the year, he appears to be a normal—albeit troubled—student. We need to give him a solid support system so he’s less likely to resist us if we attempt to separate him from the cult.”

“Do we have any information on the cult? Known members? Their beliefs?” Tim asked, already halfway into a search.

“We know concerningly little,” Bruce replied. “Most of the members wear orange T-shirts—or, more recently, purple ones. We haven’t been able to identify most of them, except that they all appear to be teenagers. However, two individuals seen repeatedly with Perseues have been confirmed. One is Leo Valdez—a known arsonist and suspected mad scientist. The other is Clarisse La Rue, daughter of a small-time mob boss from Texas.”

Behind Bruce, two images appeared on the Batcomputer screen. One showed a wiry, elf-like boy with outstretched hands, small metallic spheres floating in midair, a fiery explosion behind him. The other depicted a broad-shouldered, fierce-looking girl wielding a baseball bat. Both wore the signature orange T-shirts.

“How is his standing in the family, Father? And will he be a danger to us?” Damian asked.

Still so insecure while also so protective. Bruce felt a familiar pang of pride—how far Damian had come from the angry, lost child who once stood on his doorstep.

“Perseues has never shown aggression toward civilians. I don’t believe he’ll act against us—at least, not while we are not at in mask. As for our nighttime activities, he won’t be informed. Not until we know if we can trust him.”

“…”

“Five bucks says he finds out in under three months.”

“One Batburger meal Dickwing ends up exposing us again.“

“Hey!”

Chapter Text

Gotham was… grim.

It reminded Percy of the Underworld—the same dark twilight, the poor visibility through smog, and even the whole vibe of the city somehow felt hopeless.

At least Gotham had great rivers and a direct connection to the sea, so Percy could go for a swim or meet his dad whenever he wanted.

If only it wasn’t so polluted—he could feel a mix of poison, oil, and the typical trash of a city in nearly all its waters. It felt really slimy. Only a few lakes in the middle of Gotham were surprisingly clean. He’d have to investigate that later… and maybe give Grover a call to help clean up the city and its sparse wildlife.

The cab he took crossed into a posh neighborhood, full of estates and villas. He had originally wanted to ride one of Camp’s buses, but Argus had refused to drive into Gotham, dropping him off right at the city border instead. Apparently, the city was so cursed that no monster dared to enter.

And now he was stuck with a driver who kept throwing him suspicious looks. Percy had to reassure him three times that yes, he really did want to go to the Wayne Estate, yes, he knew the cab could only take him as far as the lower gate, and no, he would not need the driver to wait.

Percy wasn’t sure how he should feel about living with his cousin Bruce. He was still angry that he couldn’t move in with his father in Atlantis or stay full-time at Camp, but everybody insisted it was important to stay connected with his mortal side. Not that he cared what most people thought—but his mother’s request had changed his mind in the end.

He was still grieving her loss, but it helped that he had a biweekly tea date with her and Persephone. Even if it was hard to have his posture criticized from two sides whenever he dared to sit in even the slightest comfortable position.

He was thankful that Bruce had offered to foster him, don’t get him wrong. Although he really didn’t need it, it was nice that Bruce had directly opened his home. He couldn’t know that Percy would rather couch-surf for a year until he came of age.

With a sigh, he looked up to see a massive black iron fence appear. The cab stopped before a gigantic gate. With an apology, the cab driver let Percy out and, after getting his money, drove quickly back to the more normal parts of Gotham.

Percy looked around for something to unlock the gate when he found a small glass panel with a button. After pressing it and waiting for a short time, a British-accented voice called, “Wayne Residence, how can I help you?”

“Hi, this is Percy—uh, Perseus Jackson. I’m supposed to move in here today.”

“Ah yes, Master Perseus. I will await you at the front door.”

With these words, the wings of the gate opened silently on their own. Percy hesitantly marched up the long gravel driveway until he arrived at the front door, where an elderly butler awaited him. Under his scrutinizing glance, insecurities welled up in Percy; he could suddenly feel every tear in his clothes, the splatter of paint on his jeans, and he wondered whether his shoelaces were tied properly—or if he had once again just stuffed them into his shoes.

"Welcome Master Perseus, i am Alfred Pennyworth the butler of this house. It is nice to meet you.

“Hi, Mr. Pennyworth, it’s nice to meet you. Uh… can I come in? I’m freezing out here.”

“Oh, please, call me Alfred. Do come in,” the butler replied warmly. “Most of the permanent residents are either at school or at work, and Master Bruce was called away on a sudden emergency. At the moment, only Master Richard and I are here to greet you. I hope that’s no inconvenience? You’ll meet the rest of the family at dinner.” He stepped aside and gestured Percy inside.

As Percy entered the massive entry hall—seriously, why did the staircase splitting off into another floor look like something straight out of a Disney movie?—the sound of footsteps came from one of the many doors. A young, athletic man strode in, grinning ear to ear and radiating boundless energy.

“Hey! I’m Dick. It’s so great to finally meet you in person.” Right, Percy remembered—they had talked on the phone once or twice. Dick added quickly, “I should show you your room. Here, give me one of your bags, you shouldn’t be carrying them all alone.”

Percy blinked, a little overwhelmed. His brain was still trying to process the rapid-fire words, so he didn’t even notice Dick had grabbed one of his bags—at least, not until Dick stumbled under its weight and nearly toppled over.

With wide eyes, Dick looked at him. “What the—Percy! Do you have rocks in here? And how the hell did you carry this all the way here without even breaking a sweat?”

…Oh. Right. That was the bag with his armor stuffed inside. With his demigod strength, Percy had completely forgotten how ridiculously heavy solid metal was.

“Just some art projects I was working on. I hope it’s not too heavy? I can take it back if it’s too much.”

“No, no—I’ve got this. Can’t let myself seem weak the first day I meet my new cousin,” Dick said cheerfully.

Idly chatting, he led Percy down the long hallway. The manor was ridiculously oversized and misleading, but after the Labyrinth and Tartarus, it wasn’t that hard for Percy to navigate. Dick reminded him of Will back at camp—always a ray of sunshine, constantly talking, as if even a second of silence might physically hurt him.

“All the rooms along this hallway belong to one of the siblings or are adjacent. Only Damian and Tim live here full-time. The room next to yours belongs to Damian, and mine is across the hall. Want me to help you unpack?”

“Thanks, but I’ll handle it myself. Should I just come down for dinner when I’m ready?”

He really didn’t need Dick seeing half the stuff he’d brought from camp. His armor and some blunt training weapons could be explained away as hobbies—but Greek fire bombs or Leo’s inventions definitely needed Mist camouflage before anyone laid eyes on them. Percy wasn’t skilled enough to veil moving objects or rewrite memories, but for immobile things? He finally had the knack.

In one corner of his room, he set up three small altars: one for his dad, one for Hestia (his favorite goddess), and one covered in symbols for every god he’d met.

After unpacking and hiding the more dangerous—or possibly illegal—items, Percy shot a quick text in the group chat confirming he’d arrived safely. A year ago, Leo had with Daedalus research build a monster-safe phone, and with Malcolm’s help, programmed it so monsters weren’t attracted anymore. They’d even hacked Aeolus’ network to get free internet everywhere, including the Underworld. Nico had been the first to test it—only to end up a crying mess.Apparently the Underworld had zero entertainment beyond punishing souls.

Eventually, Percy set out in search of the dining room. After only getting lost once and retracing his steps, he finally found it.

Inside, the family was already gathered at a long table, voices overlapping in multiple arguments. Of the three women and five men, Percy only recognized Bruce and Dick.

He cleared his throat to announce himself. Everyone flinched—except the smallest boy and a redhead and a small girl who sat unnaturally still. Dick even shrieked a little. Percy grimaced. He sometimes forgot how silently he moved—thanks first to Gabe, and later sharpened in the Pits of Tartarus.

Bruce was the first to recover, quickly introducing everyone. The boys were his adopted sons: Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. One of the girls Cassandra was his adopted daughter while the two other girls were close family friends, Stephanie and Barbara.

Percy squinted at Jason. There was something strange about him—familiar in a way that wasn’t monster or demigod, but still… mythical.

“Did you get your room set up, or do you need anything? If you’d like, Dick can take you shopping tomorrow,” Bruce offered.

Percy froze. Right. The Waynes were disgustingly rich. After living with Gabe, who refused to spend money on him, and then years at camp or boarding schools, he wasn’t used to the concept of “shopping.” Honestly, the room seemed decorated enough.

Realizing he’d been silent too long, he blurted, “Oh, I think I have everything. The reason I came so late was because I had to pack all my things out of my bags.”

“Oh yes, Dick mentioned your… heavy luggage.”

“That was just my armor and swords.” Percy stopped dead, panicking as every eye at the table locked onto him. “I mean—props! Props for my LARPing. I’m really into it with my friends. Don’t worry, the swords are blunt.”

“Tsk. Do you actually know how to swordfight? And what kind of swords do you use?” The youngest, Damian, spoke up for the first time, trying to hide his interest.

“I mostly use a xiphos, but I’m also familiar with a gladius. If you want exotic, I’ve got some skill with a trident and net too. Do you train with weapons?” Percy asked eagerly. Finally—maybe someone to spar with, instead of practicing alone in secret.

“I am proficient with all forms of swordplay,” Damian said with a proud tilt of his chin, “but I prefer katanas.”

“Oh, would you mind sparring sometime? It’s way more fun with someone else than alone.”

That single sentence seemed to snap the rest of the family out of their shock, because half of them immediately began panicking, voices overlapping in protest—like Percy was about to swing a sword through the chandelier.

But Damian’s voice cut through the noise: “If you are confident you can keep up with me, a sparring match would be acceptable.”

Percy nearly grinned. Damian reminded him so much of Nico and his Mythomagic cards—proud of his skills, but with no one to share them with. Lucky (or unlucky) for Damian, Percy was an adrenaline junkie who loved a good fight.

“Percy, you don’t have to do that. We don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Bruce tried to intervene.

Percy shot him a stern glare.

“I think I’m skilled enough to not accidentally hurt Damian. Besides, it’s just training—what could happen?”

After a round of skeptical looks from nearly everyone, the conversation slowly shifted back to normal topics.

The food was delicious, and Percy made sure to thank Alfred every time something new was placed in front of him. He discreetly tucked small bits from each course into a napkin. Later, when he returned to his room, he placed the food on his altar and sacrificed it to the gods, whispering a quick prayer.

Afterward, he changed clothes and crawled into bed. For the first time in what felt like forever, Percy let himself hope. Maybe—just maybe—he could have a relaxed year. A holiday free from monsters, quests, and endless fighting.

“So… did anybody actually believe the LARPing excuse, or was it just me?”

“He lied. And badly—like, really fucking badly.”

“Language. Did anyone notice anything else?”

“Oh, he’s incredibly strong. Those bags were no joke, and he wasn’t even out of breath after hauling them up the entire driveway. Also, he stole food from the table. Very discreetly, I’ll give him that.”

“According to my research, his family had more than enough money to keep him fed, and the boarding schools he attended were expensive enough to provide plenty of food.”

“That means, obviously, he must have learned that behavior in there. Todd, your report mentioned you hoarded food when you first came here. How do we get Jackson to stop?”

Jason’s chair creaked as he leaned back. “First of all, thanks for stomping all over my trauma, Demon Brat. Real classy. Second… we don’t do anything. If a stash of food makes him feel safer, then let him keep it. And don’t bring it up.”

Chapter Text

Getting up in the morning was probably the hardest thing Percy had done since Gaia. The sheets were so soft, and the blanket felt like clouds. He just wanted to stay there forever.

With a sigh, he threw the blanket off and slipped his feet into the incredibly soft slippers that had been waiting at the side of his bed when he arrived. He wore checkered pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt; he wasn’t ready yet to explain to the Waynes about his legion branding—or the many scars his skin carried.

Carefully, he shuffled out of his room, silently opening and closing the door so as not to wake anyone. He moved past vases that looked so old they could probably stand on Olympus. He made a mental note never to touch anything here, or he’d be in debt for the rest of his life.

Eventually, he found himself in the same dining room as the previous evening. At the table sat only Bruce and Dick, both sporting heavy eye bags and looking about ten seconds from falling asleep.

“Morning,” Percy said as he slid into a chair. “Where are all the others?”

Tired eyes tried to focus on him. Before Bruce could answer—and from the look of him, that might have taken another five minutes—a voice came from the kitchen. Alfred appeared, carrying a plate of sandwiches, which he set down in front of Percy.

“Master Damian and Master Tim are currently at school, and the rest of the household does not live here regularly. They are either back at home or working,” Alfred explained.

With a grateful nod, Percy dug into the food. The sandwiches were delicious, especially the ham-and-cheese ones. The only one he returned, with a guilty look, was the salmon; he just couldn’t bring himself to eat something he could talk to.

Once he was finished, Alfred cleared away the plate, quietly noting the leftovers to better learn his new ward’s preferences.

“Percy, do you have plans for today? We have a couple of things we need to discuss and do with you, but I think it would be better if you had a few days to acclimate to living with us.” Bruce finally seemed fully awake.

“I was hoping somebody could take me to a mall? I still need some new clothes. Most of my old ones are either washed out or partially ripped. I could probably walk, but from what I saw, we live a little far from the nearest stores.”

Bruce and Dick exchanged worried glances.

“Percy, I’m not sure how much you know about Gotham. But it’s really dangerous for outsiders, and we Waynes are especially prone to getting kidnapped or targeted by some rogue.” Bruce spoke gently, as though addressing a child.

Percy narrowed his eyes. “My girlfriend gave me an extensive PowerPoint before I came here. I know all the major active rogues and how to counter them. And I doubt anyone knows yet that I belong to you guys.” His tone turned defensive. He hated being treated like a kid. He’d been through too much for that.

Sensing the tension, Dick stepped in. “I’ve got a few things to do in the city. If you want, I can take you to the mall and pick you up later. As long as you don’t wander off, it’s unlikely anything will happen.”

“Additionally, I have a request for you, Percy.” Bruce leaned forward slightly. “I’d feel much better if we gave you a panic button and hid a tracker in your shoes. Everyone in the family has one.” He showed his watch, which had two hidden buttons. “The likelihood of something happening is too high. Nobody will be able to see where you are unless you press the panic button. The data is handled by Barbara, whom you met yesterday. She works in cybersecurity and is absolutely discreet with private information.”

Percy nodded slowly. He wasn’t comfortable with being tracked, but he knew Bruce’s concerns were justified. And if necessary, he could always disrupt electronics around him with the Mist.

Percy was bored.

He had already gotten everything he wanted, neatly packed into his backpack. Anyone looking closely would notice that it was far too small to hold all his clothes—but the backpack was a gift from Sadie. It was spatially expanded and warded with anti-theft spells.

Now, Percy sat on a bench outside the mall, eating blueberry ice cream. Dick wasn’t coming back for three hours, and Percy needed to keep himself entertained without wandering off. A hard challenge for someone with ADHD.

Then he caught a scent he hadn’t smelled since the Labyrinth. Fresh trees, the aftertaste of rain, the sweetness of blooming flowers, and the rich complexity of wildlife. But Pan was gone, and Percy knew of no other blessed in Gotham—except himself.

He followed the smell to a park just behind the mall. A dense tree line, full of bushes and tangled plants, blocked the entrance. He could feel a pond inside it, one of only a few clean water bodies in the whole city he could feel.

He hesitated. He had promised Dick he’d stay by the mall. But on the other hand, the park was technically part of the mall—and if it was home to one of nature’s blessed, it was probably safer than anywhere else.

With a shrug, he slipped inside the green jungle, unaware of the worried looks from bystanders.

Inside, Percy had no trouble moving. Vines pulled aside for him, roots sank deeper so he wouldn’t trip. He walked straight toward the source of the power he had felt earlier. It, in turn, began moving toward him.

He reached a clearing just as a green-skinned woman with fiery red hair appeared on the far side. Instead of clothing, vines wrapped around her form.

Percy didn’t recognize her species. She looked a little like a dryad, but not quite. Her aura was almost completely human—except for her overwhelming power over nature.

A memory stirred. Grover had once ranted about his work as Lord of the Wild, mentioning a new power rising in America. She fit the description. If Percy was right…

“Beautiful lady, I’m sorry to intrude on your territory, but are you perhaps the revered May Queen?” Years of dealing with gods had taught him how to show respect. He didn’t always use the skill—but the May Queen was not someone to offend.

The woman blinked, startled. “That’s an old name. I haven’t heard it in a while. You interest me, young man. You don’t seem to know who I am, but you know what I am. That’s rare. Most interesting, though, is your connection to the Green. I know only one other person with it. But yours feels… different. You look human. Care to explain?”

As she spoke, a vine coiled around Percy’s waist. Instead of flinching like she expected, Percy absentmindedly stroked it. The vine writhed happily, shocking her.

“Oh, my connection comes from the blessing of a fading deity. It’s more of a passive gift I use than a power of my own. And my specialty is ocean wildlife, while yours seems more terrestrial. My friend Grover’s a huge fan of you, by the way. He’s Lord of the Wild. I could introduce you sometime—he’d be delighted.”

The woman froze, processing the flood of words. Then she smiled, revealing teeth a little too sharp. “You’re an interesting young man. Anyone with a connection to the Green tends to be… understanding. Come with me. We need a deeper conversation.”

Percy grinned back, his teeth briefly morphing into shark’s teeth. “I’d be more than happy. I’ve got time to kill anyway. I’m Percy, by the way.”

“You can call me Pam. Let me introduce you to a friend of mine.”

With that, Pam turned and walked deeper into the jungle. Percy jogged after her.

“Hey, who’s this sweet thing?”

“No way—you’re like that power couple! A friend of mine is always going on about how you two are her role models.”

“Let me tell you what Grover and I got up to last fall at Ocean World.”

“You have to give me a cutting later. That’d be the perfect gift for half my friends. Poisonous, thorny, flesh-eating—honestly, that would save me so much Christmas shopping.”

I see everything: Guys emergency. Percys signal is inside of Poison Ivys park. We need somebody to rescue him.

Acrobat: Fuck

Acrobat: Im on my way, i need somebody to get antidiots, i have none atm

Dick swung through the city in a panic. Fuck—it had only been a few hours and Percy was already kidnapped. He couldn’t fathom what Ivy’s brainwashing pollen might do to a cult-traumatized teenager like Percy. They still didn’t know how deep the indoctrination had gone, and he prayed Ivy wouldn’t make it worse.

He dropped into the clearing where Percy’s signal was coming from. There he was—bound with vines to a wooden chair. And across from him sat Ivy and… Harley Quinn. Not good. Dick wasn’t sure if he could take both of them down without Percy getting hurt.

His escrima sticks crackled to life.

“Ivy, Harley—weren’t you over kidnapping innocent citizens? If you let him go, we can forget about this. How’s that sound?” His voice was tight with stress.

Both women exchanged odd looks. Dick took a cautious step forward, sticks ready.

“Buh, what do you think you’re doing interrupting our tea?” A voice yelled—just as a tomato splattered against Dick’s chest, juice running down his suit.

He spun around, baffled. Behind him, Percy was booing, already winding up to throw another tomato.

“I’m rescuing you?!” Dick sputtered.

“From what ? I’m here willingly.”

“But you’re tied up! And those are rogues!”

Now Percy looked baffled. “What are you talking about? I’m not tied up.” He touched the vines and they obediently unwrapped themselves from his body. “And you’ve got it all wrong—these two are incredible scientists and environmental activists. So excuse me, Mr. Rude. ”

Behind him, Ivy and Harley burst into uncontrollable laughter, while Dick stood frozen, jaw hanging open.

Eventually, Harley took pity. “Percy honey, he’s right—we’re rogues sometimes. But Nightwing, you’re wrong if you think we’d ever keep our sweet Percy captive.”

Dick opened his mouth, closed it again, then managed, “Can I just… drive you home? The Waynes are already informed and worried.”

Percy looked at the two rogues, who both gave him encouraging nods. With a heavy sigh, he stretched and stood up. “Fine, but I’m texting you later so we can reschedule our tea date.”

Dick wasn’t sure how he managed to get Percy back to the Manor. His brain was still trying to process what had happened. Ivy and Harley—two women infamous for their hatred of men—had sat down for tea with Percy?

Percy’s constant glare during the trip didn’t help.

When they arrived, Percy stormed inside, pausing only to give Alfred a polite greeting before heading straight for his room.

Utterly lost, Dick turned to Alfred for guidance. The butler only smiled faintly. “I think, young master, you should make your way to the cave. The rest of the family is quite curious for your report.”

And with that, Alfred closed the door, leaving Dick alone in the hall.

At dinner, Percy ranted loudly, stabbing at his vegetables. “And by the gods, Nightwing is such a loser. We were having such a great discussion about how forest health influences the biodiversity of coastal ecosystems, and then he comes crashing through plants and shouting like a maniac!”

Jason and Stephanie were laughing so hard they had to clutch their stomachs.

Percy turned to Dick, who looked pale and teary-eyed. “Dick, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for you. This rude guy just insisted on dragging me away. I didn’t even think about you or I would’ve refused. But Nightwing made me so angry, being rude to the ladies like that. I bet in civilian life he’s something awful—like a cop.”

Jason rolled right off his chair, cackling on the floor. Tim was stifling laughter in his hands. Even Damian’s mouth twitched into a smile. Cass and Barbara were furiously scrolling on their devices, swishing and typing.

Dick gave Percy a betrayed look. “What’s wrong with being a cop?”

“You mean outside of being a corrupt pig?”

“…I am a cop,” Dick mumbled, small and defeated.

“My condolences,” Percy said sympathetically. “By the way, are you okay? You look like you’re about to keel over.”

“…I’m fine. Totally fine.”

Bruce tried to step in. “Percy, as much as Nightwing may have appeared rude, you need to understand—Ivy and Harley are dangerous rogues. And you really should have stayed at the mall for your safety.”

“You’re confused,” Percy said firmly. “Harl and Pam are absolute sweethearts. And honestly, where could I be safer than in Pam’s garden?”

He went back to eating his grilled vegetables, considering the matter closed. He didn’t notice the tears in Dick’s eyes—or Bruce mouthing silently across the table: Harl and Pam.

Chapter Text

“No, listen to me. Making it blue increases its taste like a hundredfold.”

“How can you say that? It looks like it’s fucking moldy. I will make sure that Alfie never lets you near the kitchen again.”

“Okay, calm down, we can talk about this. But first, put the knife away.”

“Aaah, die!”

Percy was currently being chased around the gardens by an aggravated Jason wielding a knife.

Why?

Oh, Percy had happened to find Jason’s mac and cheese while the older man was briefly away and promptly decided to pep up the meal with a little bit of blue food dye.

Jason didn’t realize that and put the mac and cheese in the oven. When he got it out, he nearly had a heart attack when his food was suddenly spotted and tainted blue.

This led to the wild chase.

The hunt ended when Percy climbed up a tree that Jason was too heavy to follow. After circling the tree and promising more and more creative ways for Percy to die, they eventually called a truce.

What followed was a happy Percy eating the food and an angry Jason glaring at him, while the rest of the family tried to act as though nothing had happened.

“Percy, chum, do you think we could speak about a few upcoming events and such? Just some things we’d like you to participate in, but if you don’t feel up to it, we can cancel them for you,” Bruce asked with a serious expression.

“Yeah sure, bring it on,” Percy got out between two mouthfuls, not looking up.

“We have an upcoming movie gala next week. It’s not as much high society as the regular galas we attend. It would be a good opportunity to introduce you to the public without much pressure on your side. But you don’t need to—we could always announce you at a later date.”

“Take it. Trust me, you don’t want the full posh experience your first time. Fucking two-faced Bristol bastards.”

“Jason, do I have to remind you that Tim as well as I are both from Bristol?” came Bruce’s tired reply.

“…”

“My point stands.”

Before the discussion could continue, Percy interrupted, a smile poorly hidden.

“That sounds good. I’m not really a shy person, so I don’t mind a little attention. Can you give me a little more info?” He shrugged.

“I can send you some flyers later on, but in short: it’s a romance film with a mostly Native American cast. You can bring a date, but it’s not required—and I don’t think anyone here would mind if you want to take one of us. Your comfort is the most important thing for us,” Tim chimed in, and Percy shot him a thankful grin. It was nice how much the family cared.

“Yes, thank you, Tim. We have some more minor fundraisers and so on, but those normally require only one Wayne. Look them over, and if you’re interested in something, you can go—but you’re not really needed.”

Bruce waited until Percy nodded before continuing.

“Furthermore, we have to talk about your educational path. We know that you are in a special homeschool program and only need two courses to get your high school diploma. But have you thought about what you want to do after? I have many contacts all over the US, and if you tell me where you want to go, I could probably arrange something.”

Percy started shuffling in his seat. “Thanks for casually trying to bribe me into some university, but I already have a place accepted for marine microbiology bachelor at a special university designed for kids with ADHD and dyslexia.” He threw a sharp glare at Bruce. He had always loathed the kids in his school who got everything through money or connections.

“Oh, can I ask where? I didn’t know you were good enough to be scouted early?”

“Man, now I feel bad. It’s a legacy university. I’ve had my place there since I was born. Sorry to disappoint. It’s near San Francisco, but you’ve probably never heard of it.”

This statement made the whole family subtly focus on the teenager. With a frown, Bruce turned his whole body toward Percy. “I didn’t know that Sally was part of a legacy program,” he probed carefully.

“Oh no, it’s from my dad’s side.”

“Tt. I was under the assumption your father abandoned you when you were born.”

“Damian, you can’t say that!”

“Nah, nah, it’s cool. He did kinda abandon me when I was young, and I give him regular grief for that. But we reconnected when I was 11, and he tries to be there for me—it’s just complicated.”

“Not to sound like you’re unwanted here, but why are you not with your father after your mother’s death?” Barbara carefully inject herself in the conversation.

“Oh, he’s mostly at sea. He’s kinda a leader in an organization there. Also, I’m not quite sure if he has a legal identity. Hmm, that’s something I’ll have to ask him the next time I see him.” Percy didn’t notice the glances exchanged across the table or the sudden bad vibes in the air.

“Ah, while we’re on my family—I’ll have a little camping trip in February down north with some cousins of mine. It’s only for three days, it was preplanned a while ago, so sorry for springing that on you guys.”

Bruce got a bad feeling about sending Percy with these previously unknown cousins to an isolated camping trip, but without enough reason to forbid it, he just postponed the discussion. “That’s probably okay, but let’s talk again shortly before.”

An awkward silence descended on the table, where most of the family were making plans and one teenager was shoveling food in his mouth like there was no tomorrow.

“This tastes so divine, Jason. What are you sacrificing to the gods to make it that perfect? Say, did you ever try spaghetti alla carbonara blu? An Italian recipe my girlfriend always makes for me.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “And what exactly is this?”

“Spaghetti carbonara—but with a secret ingredient… blue dye.”

“Die, you food criminal.” And Jason was back to chasing Percy.

Bruce sat alone in his study, his mind working through the information he had collected this evening. They had always wondered how Percy was connected to a cult—that his biological father was a leader of at least a faction and had robbed Percy was disheartening.

They had all hoped that his connection would be weak, perhaps through friends or peer pressure. But a lost father who came back? Percy would probably bend over backwards for him—for his love.

The rest also made sense in this context: a university where only cult members could attend, his camping trips with his cousins—all probably meant to isolate and indoctrinate him.

Bruce ground his teeth. That was what he hated the most in his line of work. There was no easy way to help Percy. If he forbade him contact with the cult, Percy would grow resentful and would still go to them once he was no longer a minor.

The only thing Bruce could do was bind Percy to this family—give him such a strong support system that they could influence him away from it.

And as Batman, he could make sure to annihilate all threats to his little cousin.

Bruce’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock before Tim strode into the study.

“Just wanted to inform you that Damian took one of his swords to Percy, mumbling something about proving his worth as blood family. So, not my problem anymore.” And with a peace sign, he sauntered back out. After a second, Bruce sprinted after him. Shit, he thought Damian was out of this phase.

He hastened down the hallways to the gym, hoping he could interfere before Damian went too far. As he neared, he heard the clank of metal and shouts.

When he dashed through the door, mouth open and ready to shout, he froze in his tracks. His family was standing around the room, all eyes fixed on the pair in the middle.

Damian was clearly frustrated, his moves fast and aimed to maim, not to train. His sword slashed through the air, beads of sweat falling down his face.

Across from him, Percy held a sword made of strange golden metal. Despite only reacting to Damian’s attacks, he clearly dominated the fight. His blade was always exactly where it needed to be, with no unnecessary moves or delays. It seemed like he could foresee the entire fight. He also looked fresh, as if he had just started.

Before their eyes, Percy twisted his sword multiple times, resulting in Damian’s weapon flying through the air. The disarmed boy fell forward onto his knees, fists balled and pressed into the ground, his head hanging low. In the split second Bruce caught his eyes, he thought he saw tears.

“How?” came a hoarse voice.

Percy strolled over to him and ruffled his hair. The family tensed, but Damian didn’t move a muscle.

“From what I saw, you’ve mostly trained with partners from two or three sword styles. You need more variety. And you fight as if you expect me to be weaker than you,” Percy said with a stern voice. “You can’t underestimate your enemy. Imagine I had really wanted to hurt you.”

The family just stared at Percy. How could he not only dominate Damian in a fight but also so thoroughly point out flaws none of them had ever noticed?

He knelt before Damian and laid his hands over the boy’s fists. “Hey, come on, it’s no shame to lose. The most important thing is to learn from it and beat me next time. I can show you the move I used to disarm you. I got it from my first sword instructor after he humbled me with it in my very first training session. You can call it tradition for you to learn it now.”

“Tt. Of course you will teach me everything you know. You are worthy of the Wayne blood.” And with that, Damian stormed out of the gym.

Bruce nearly missed a quiet, “Just like Nico,” from a smiling Percy.