AN. A couple of you commented on the really crappy prophecy. You're right, it doesn't have the usual pattern and it did seem forced. I'm a terrible poet (and that's essentially what the prophecy is). If anyone wants to touch bases and maybe we can come up with a better one that still has the same meanings but flows easier to replace it with that would be great. I took a Creative Writing class my senior year of high school at a local college and the professor straight up was like... lol, maybe you should just stick to prose. So. Here I am. Enjoy this chapter, sorry it took so long!

Bruce stared as the drops hit the windshield of his car, looking out into the streets of Gotham, lit up by green and red and the echoing with the sounds of honks and water hitting glass. Everything dripped around him, falling together to melt into a giant puddle. The car behind him beeped loudly and it slowly registered that the light had turned green just a moment ago. He waved his hand in the mirror but it was too dark out already for the man to see it, Bruce peeled forward and slowly they were finally moving out of the skyscrapers and toward the suburbs and the west where the Palisades would be.

He was still waiting to hear back from the investigation with the Lab that Dick had found in his dreams, still looking for the numbers he'd seen. Bruce had a sinking feeling they'd be dealing with Cadmus again, but what for was the question?

Clones? Could you even clone something that didn't have DNA?

He wondered what would have happened if Dick had been cloned that day when they discovered Superboy. He didn't have a full DNA strand (something Barry was still marveling over in the League's lab), and thus they wouldn't have anything to clone with. They could've combined it with something else to stabilize it, much like they had with Superboy, but then the clone might've just looked like Dick, but been entirely human.

He hadn't quite wrapped his head around that. Human. Dick Grayson was not entirely human— he wasn't half-alien, or even a meta, he was half-god. A living example and proof that Greek Mythology was not full of myths, that they were still around and kicking. And it was killing Bruce he couldn't help his son, his kid. He knew Diana was right, he needed to support Dick, but he desperately wanted to find that camp and drag the boy back to the cave, lecturing him on the importance of not dying.

Maybe Dick pulling away was hurting more than he assumed because he didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't say no to this or yes to that and couldn't tell the boy that no, Dick, you shouldn't have taken that risky move because you could've died. Dick brushed him off a lot more when it came to things like that; the kid was smart, so incredibly smart, but he would take calculated risks that he didn't need to. There were too many variables, too many things that could go wrong. Why couldn't Dick just see that?

Bruce turned down 5th Street and gripped the wheel harder. The rain was coming down even harder, still in big fat drops and slopped against the windshield and hit his vision harshly.

His phone beeped loudly, startling him. He reached over to pick it up, shuffling around his work bag and keeping his eyes on the road. He almost his a small silver car parked to his right, a small, grim but embarrassed smile settling over his face. Finally, he found his phone, opening it to find a text from Diana. It was code, clearly, but the sign was clearly for meeting at the Watchtower. Bruce sighed, but it was out of relief. Good. Something he could worry about.

The Watchtower

Above Earth

The Watchtower meeting rooms were filled with the large conference area and smaller meeting rooms that were soundproofed and with closed door. Not all the League's identities were open with others in the League, and if personal began to bleed with League business, they needed a space where they couldn't be heard by civilians but other heroes. Batman slipped into the room, finding not only Diana, but Barry, Clark, Dinah and Oliver. They were maskless, and Bruce slowly slipped his off to look at the others.

"What's this about?" he snapped.

Barry held his hands up. "Slow down, cowboy. Princess over here has been in contact with your kid."

His eyes snapped to Diana. She was biting her lip, arms crossed over her chest. She was leaning against the table, which had been pushed up beneath a clear board to write on. Barry had doodled a small Bat and a little Robin with the words 'Defend!' written over top in bubble letters. Bruce had half a mind to roll his eyes.

"Dick Iris-messaged me—."

Barry raised his hand. "I'd just like to say that is really cool and we need to utilize that now—."

"Barry!" they snapped in unison. The speedster sniffed, but he was grinning, and he lowered his hand and gestured for Diana to continue.

She scowled, but not seriously, in his direction. "Dick messaged me that he's received a quest to help deal with whatever is coming. He needs to head West to find the goddess of protection, Soteria. She'll be able to grant them… something that can help earth from this threat, whatever it is."

There's a ringing silence, and Bruce has turned slightly away. Dick is just going as a mission, he snapped to himself, he's just going on a solo-mission that's extremely detrimental to the Earth. But Dick wasn't going as Robin, he was going as Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson, who was the son of Poseidon and was going on a quest to save them all. Bruce wishes he could be there, wishes it could be him who was giving Dick this mission because he would know facts and figures and he'd know exactly what was going on and what Dick was getting into. But he doesn't. He can't control this.

It's killing him.

"A quest," Clark says, "like a good ole' let's journey together and defeat this evil type of quest."

Diana kind of shrugs helplessly. She's not even in her Wonder Woman gear, her hair is pulled up in a bun and she's wearing whatever she had worn to work that day. "If you think about it, that's what we do every mission we have."

"We have more information, and we're not just relying on some… what? Who even gives these things out? We have facts and we know names and people, not general locations and maybe a name. Head west? To where! They're going to transverse all of the West coast just to find this goddess? Why can't she go to them, or just give it to us?" Clark asked, sticking his hands on his hips and looking over at all of them over his glasses. Barry nods thoughtfully, and the only two who haven't said anything are Dinah and Ollie.

Bruce can feel their stares on him, but he ignores it to turn to Diana because she's the best connection to all of this they have.

She seems to juggle her thoughts, choosing her words carefully as she speaks. "Certain things must come to pass, Clark. And sometimes… these things require sacrifice and the need to know that whomever is searching for it is worthy. I don't doubt that Dick is worthy, we all know he is, but imagine if the enemy was looking for it too. If they had the ultimate symbol of protection, something that even we, even the gods, could not break through."

Clark is silent and he turns to Bruce as if to say "fix this!" But Bruce is still quiet, mulling over the information.

"We work on our end, Dick work's on theirs. Normally, I'd say Robin comes first, but he deserves to get himself established and trained as a demigod. After that, we can work something out but for now he needs to deal with this and be our middle-man. Clearly, Prometheus or whomever has made dealings with… civilians. They need protection too. Dick will deal with the demigod side, this quest, and we'll deal with the civilian side," he said, thinking about how earlier he just wanted Dick back. But the boy wasn't here, and he couldn't speak up for himself. It wouldn't do Bruce any good to make decisions for him as if he were here. That'd already been a problem in the past.

"Dick should just come back to the team," Oliver said, "the kids are down an extremely important member."

"You don't think I know that?" Bruce asked, furrowing his brow at Oliver. "He knows that too, but he needs to deal with this first. After this has all passed over we'll deal with Robin and the team." He paused. "We should get looking into that hand-held Zeta portal we began several months ago."

There's a murmur of agreement.

"Family has always been important to Dick," Bruce said quietly, "I'm letting him have this one."

Diana smiles gratefully at him, and Clark does as well. Barry still looks thoughtful, but he's nodding, and Dinah and Ollie doesn't say anything. They share a look, but it's so brief that Bruce barely notices it.

They reach their decision and moments later, Bruce leaves. He has a mission for the team.

Mount Justice

2 Hours Later

They have the audacity to argue with him. Which, in the long run, is pretty ballsy, because they'll get crap for it later but they're arguing they can't go on any missions because Robin, Dick isn't there, and if they're watching Cadmus, they're going to need his expertise. It's true, and they're right, but Bruce wouldn't have had them look into it if he didn't think they could handle it. In the end, they're only holding themselves back by limiting each of their positions on the team to what they think they can do. Sometime, Batman wonders if no guidance would be best— it is often times when there is no leadership that children step up. He thinks that maybe if Batman wasn't telling them they could do it, they'd end up to the same conclusion.

Maybe they need to be a little more hands off.

But right now is not that time, and he growls "Enough!" at them loudly enough to just shut them up and leave them slightly gaping at the same time. He doesn't normally raise his voice, so they're all just somewhat staring at him. "You will take this mission. This is strictly watch and report. You do not need Robin for this, I hope you all can handle sitting down for a couple of hours. You are not to engage, and you are to report all suspicious activity to myself and the League. Understood?"

They all nod solemnly.

"Batman, if I may," Aqualad said, "Does this have to do with Robin's own mission?"

He's more or less likely referring to Dick being at camp, but thankfully is still using the cover they'd established. Currently, Robin was undercover to most of the league. He debates on how truthful he should be. "We're investigating the connections that Wonder Woman has established for us," he said, only giving Aqualad a slight nod.

Satisfied, the Atlantean steps away. Batman knows that Dinah has been more open with them about what was going on the Robin, with Dick, and he's a little grateful. They've been more or less understanding, and they've kept quiet about most of it. "You'll leave in an hour. Be ready."

He turns away, his cape sweeping out behind him, and leaves them there.

Camp Half-Blood

The Next Morning

0800 Hours EST

Dick had already grabbed his backpack from his cave and is swimming up to the beach. They leave on their quest this morning, early, before most of the camp is even awake. He walks up through the water, playing with it a little to make small waves. He tromps through the dunes, practically bouncing with excitement. He hasn't been able to leave the camp in the entire month or so he's been there, and he's ready to get out. It's not that he doesn't like it here, it's just that Camp Half-blood isn't home and Dick wants to go back to the manor and be Robin but he has this responsibility too.

He wonders about his mom, too. Not in the sad way, and he still thinks about his parents, but it didn't drive him like Bruce's parents drove his. He wonders about them too, about Thomas and Martha Wayne and he wonders if they too wish their son, not the adult Bruce, but the small Bruce, the little one who watched them, could let them go. Dick doesn't want to let his parents go, but he's watched Bruce and that consuming need for revenge doesn't fill him. He wants to protect people, not destroy every villain he can. So Dick feels good doing all this, he feels like this is his responsibility that really, he didn't choose, but there's a lot of things in his life he didn't choose that he's had to learn to live with.

Like, you know, living. But no one chooses that; they're in the same boat (Ha!) and Dick thinks about what his mom would say about who his dad, his biological dad, is. He can't imagine it, but the amount of puns he's come up with are pretty clever that he'll keep them around for later.

He bounded back to the cabin, a grin escaping and a small cackle rising from his throat. He throws the door open and Percy, who was putting on his second pant leg, scrambles for his sword while falling back.

"Nice!" Dick exclaimed, grinning madly. Percy groaned and rolled over.

"Hilarious," but he was smiling too. The older boy pulled himself from the ground and slipped his pants back on, muttering something about annoying younger brothers. Dick found his grin stretching even bigger and he went over to his bed to set his backpack on it.

"Do you think we can go to Wayne Manor and grab more clothes for me? And…" Dick stopped suddenly and let out a small "I'm an idiot". His hands dropped what he was holding and he turned to face Percy, running his hands through his hair. "I'm an idiot," he said louder. "The sword."

Percy froze too, looking around him and then back at Dick, frowning. He was halfway through sticking some socks into his back, but stopped what he was doing and froze. "What's wrong? What sword?"

"The sword… at the manor. When the Echidna attacked me, I grabbed one of Thomas Wayne's swords off the wall. It was the only actual weapon I could find. And it killed her, or like, made her into that puff of smoke," Dick paused. "It has to have celestial bronze in it or something and it was a good sword, I remember, it worked well. I completely forgot about it until I remembered what I wanted to get at home…" Dick looked up at his brother, who was looking at Dick thoughtfully, eyes narrowed.

"We can go. It'll be a brief detour. North, and then West. But we can't spend more time than necessary there," Percy said, "And we'll need to be in and out. No stops unless we have to."

"Roger that, sir!" Dick said, saluting. He still felt like an idiot because that sword had been sitting right in front of him. He wondered how Thomas Wayne had come across it, and how he'd even been able to see it— did he have the sight? But then, what had Bruce seen when he looked at it? Or Alfred? Dick had never quite noticed it before, he'd just known there was a sword there. And he never would've been able to describe to you what it looked like, and he still couldn't; not really.

Dick turned back to his back, opening it to find his Robin uniform staring up at him. He pulled it out halfway, running his thumb over the R. He wasn't going on this mission as Robin— he was Dick Grayson, son of Mary Grayson and Poseidon, and he was going on a quest to find the goddess of protection to save the world from something. He slowly packed the uniform back in and grabbed some more clothes, carefully folding them in. He imagined Alfred was standing over his shoulders, telling him he'd have more space if he folded, and laughed quietly to himself.

Percy came up behind him. "Almost ready?"

Dick looked up and smiled. "Yeah, I'm ready."

They left the cabin, Percy shutting the door slowly behind him. They walked quietly to the Big House, the light from the rising soon just falling over the cabins and over the trees. The other side of the sky was still dark and Dick watched the clouds drift in front of the moon. He felt like it was watching him and turned his eyes, a slight shiver running up his spine.

Dick was ready, practically bouncing as they ascended the steps of the house to meet with Chiron and with Annabeth. They were all standing on the porch, waiting for Percy and Dick to arrive. Jason and Piper were there, too. Piper ruffled Dick's hair and smiled at him.

"You're goal to head West, towards Soteria's sphere of power. Washington state, the closest you can get to the edge of the gods realm aside from Canada. I have a feeling she'll more come to you," Chiron explained, looking at all of them. "You're looking for her blessing, presumably."

Annabeth nodded seriously, and Percy nodded as well, glancing down at his brother. This rested on Dick, it was his quest. But Percy knew that Dick could handle it— he was Robin. Dick was focused now, though, and staring at Chiron seriously. He could see the grown part of the thirteen year old, the part that was far too old to see what he had in thirteen years.

"We'll be safe," Dick promised, his voice serious. "And we'll get her blessing."

Chiron nodded, looking down at all of them. "We are working to solve this all. We cannot let whatever war Prometheus wants to begin to happen."

"Understood," Dick said. Piper pulled the boy closer to her suddenly.

"Be safe kiddo! Keep Percy and Annabeth out of trouble!" She hugged him fiercely, pulling him closer to herself. Dick squirmed a little, surprised but not entirely unperturbed. He wasn't used to getting out on missions this way. But Piper reminded him a little of M'gann, separate but still kind individuals in his life, and he found a little comfort in his hug. Piper let go and patted his dark hair, urging him to follow the two older Demigods.

"Argus will drive you to the city and drop you off at the station to take a train. You have some Drachmas?"

Dick nodded, patting his bag. "Percy gave me some."

Chiron smiled grimly. "Then you're set."

And they were. Argus, with his many eyes, led them down to the Camps only van. They piled in, quietly listening to Apollo's station (Americana Folk that week; bearable), and the green country of Long Island soon became beige highways that became a glass city. Annabeth watched all the buildings pass by and Dick stared at the Wayne Inc. building until it disappeared behind tall reaching towers. Percy remained stoically silent, watching a small marble roll around the back of the truck.

Dick had been to New York more times in his life than they could count, the US tour that Haley's took meant New York was twice on the map, only being exceeded by Gotham's four visits a year. He knew the streets decently well and he knew the tops of the buildings just a little better from cases he and Batman had worked. He didn't know really what to do now— they needed to go to the station, yeah, but Gotham was still an hour by train and they needed to get there fast. And Annabeth still had no clue what the exact plan was other than a small brief discussion at the beginning of their ride from the camp. Dick kept still, eyes focused on the buildings around, looking for threats and exit routes. Argus never spoke and when they arrived at Grand Central Station, he only looked back at him over his shoulder.

Dick glanced at the other two, who were gathering their single bags. "Right," he muttered, "Thanks, Argus."

Argus held up his hand, giving Dick a thumbs up. The eye on his hand blinked. Or winked. Dick wasn't sure.

The back of the car was swung open, the light flooding into the back of the van, and they hopped out into the busy New York morning. Sounds hit his ears; cars and people, shuffling fabric and shoes on concrete. It had rained, clearly, the night before and the puddles of water reflected the clear morning sky above. Annabeth shut the door and slapped the back and the van peeled away from the street and into the traffic. Dick looked up at the train station, the sign greeting him in almost mock excitement, and he gulped.

They were on their own. And somehow this was worse than any mission he had been on.

"Well," he said, and turned to face Annabeth. She looked down at him, eyebrow quirked in question. "We have to go to Gotham?"

"Do we?" she asked, glancing at Percy.

"There's a sword there."

"You just… casually have had a sword at your home that can kill monsters this entire time?"

Dick blinked. "I kind of… yeah. I do. We have to get it." He held up his dagger, although a little stealthily as to avoid any worry, and waved it a little at her. "This isn't gonna work."

"Piper said you were really good at the dagger?" Annabeth said, actually pouting a little. Dick knew she used her dagger religiously and was probably one of the best warriors he knew.

"It's just not my first choice," he explained, "And I could… the sword would be better. It's what I used to kill Echidna."

Annabeth looked away then, at Percy and then at the line of doors where the restless people walked in and out in a hurry, "I won't ask. Fine, let's head to Gotham and get this sword. Then we head West."

Dick grinned, throwing his fist into the air, and led them both to the doors of the station. He took care of the tickets, insisting they wait, and he knew that Alfred would see the charge and hopefully prepare for his arrival. Or at least expect it. He met the two of them sitting, waiting, for the New York to Gotham line to leave. Percy was tossing a small hacky sack in the air, grinning at Annabeth. She was smiling too, a large white toothy grin that made Dick spread his lips wide and grin. They were laughing as they saw him coming, and he held their tickets up and waved.

Percy tossed him the sack and he caught it from the air, pulling it down to look at it. "We played hacky sack on our first quest. On a bus. But I think we should make it a tradition."

Dick grinned and they played with it. Annabeth was better than them both, doing all sorts of tricks. Dick pulled the hacky sack, an apple from Percy's bag, and then his own wallet and began to juggle all three. Electing not only a small crowed of young children, but also Percy and Annabeth's delighted attention, he eventually added two water bottles and even a book.

Annabeth glanced up as their train arrival was announced and they had to go through the process of ripping Dick away from the young children. They waved good bye and barely made it through the doors as it shut into a single car filled with a mother and daughter and tall man with a blonde ponytail standing some ways away in the back of the car.

"Yeah," Dick said, glancing at Percy and Annabeth's surprised faces to the lack of people in the train car. "Not a lot of people want to go to Gotham."

The ride went well in the beginning until the woman and her daughter got off some several stops after they'd gotten one. There was still a long way to Gotham, at least another forty five minutes, and they were left strangely staring at the man, each of them sizing him up in their own way. Dick gripped his dagger tightly, staring in a relaxed manner straight across from his seat out of the window. The suburbs became green fields and soon they were in New Jersey, heading Northeast toward the city. The man shuffled ever once in a while, sniffling, and perhaps the most suspicious thing about him was his lack of luggage.

Sure, they only have backpacks, but it was something. He didn't carry a single thing with him, arms crossed over his chest. When the train began to stop in the various less-harmless neighborhoods, the man crossed by them and left the car. When the doors finally closed, Dick let out a breath that he didn't even realize he was holding.

Annabeth cleared her throat. "That… was strange. Don't tell me I'm the only one who thought he was going to attack?"

Percy was still looking at the doors, even though they'd already peeled out of the station and were heading full throttle into the city. "I don't think we're quite done with him yet. Let's not leave out of those doors." He looked down the train car. "Out the back ones, in with the crowd. What's the last stop in Gotham?"

Dick hummed in thought. "Elwich Station, East side. It's by the docks. Always crowded."

"Then we get off then," Percy said. He paused. "Uh, if that's okay with you?"

Dick smiled, appreciating that Percy was acknowledging he shouldn't quite be making executive decisions like that, and nodded. "Good by me."

The train in Gotham wasn't unlike any other city. It was mostly above ground and was probably the nicest thing actually in the city outside of Sandset Park on the North side. It weaved throughout the city and the stations were elevated above ground, lined with semi-dry shrubs from the heat. Occasionally it dove beneath the ground, and there was nothing like watching a train at a 45 degree angle whoosh by and disappear into concrete. Their train, from New York, only went so far in. It wasn't local, and so they leapt out and quickly switched at the large main central hub, named aptly after Thomas Wayne, and were then well on their way to Elwich station some middle of the morning. The train was packed with dock and shipyard worker going in for the morning to afternoon shift. The looked a little out of place, but kids traveling or moving around on the Gotham trains weren't unusual and they were ignored.

By the time they reached Elwich, the sun was up in the sky and it was almost noon. They loaded out with the workers and quickly disappeared into the incoming crowd, following Dick was he led them from the dingy station into a series of rowhomes that made up the other end of the east side of Gotham. Percy was actually a very good person to walk with. Dick wasn't very threatening, never would be probably, but Percy just had that street-kid look about him that neither he nor Annabeth could pull off.

"Should we take a taxi?" Annabeth asked.

"I was thinking I could have someone pick us up, taxi's in Gotham… especially in this side, are a little less than reliable," Dick said, glancing around before they crossed the street. The Palisades, the part where Wayne Manor and Gotham's old money was located, was Northwest of the city. Even walking, it'd take them the better part of the day to get back to the manor and given that this was an unwelcome detour, they needed it to be fast.

"If you're using a phone, we're screwed. Any monster will pick up that signal and with two kids of Poseidon… I'm surprised we haven't been caught yet," Annabeth said, glancing down at the black hair boy.

Dick bit his lip. "Okay, no phone… how about having someone else call?"

"Like a mortal?" Percy asked, scrunching his eyes at a large gargoyle leaning off the building they were standing under.

"Yeah! Like… hmmm, that guy." They followed where Dick was pointing toward a cop who was leaning against his car, watching some birds peck at his small chunks of doughnut on the streets.

"I'll take the phone call," Annabeth deadpanned.

"No, he's okay. He's one of the cops who, like, works with Batman and Robin and stuff!" Dick insisted, already making his way down the sidewalk. Percy started following immediately, Annabeth right behind him.

"Hey! Detective Bullock!"

The detective jumped, reaching immediately for his gun, before he scowled at the three kids walking toward him. "Ah, you know, I'm off on my lunch—."

"I just need help, sir!" Dick said, making his voice a lot smaller than it was. He seemed younger, more like the thirteen he was, and grinned up at the man shyly. "We don't have a phone to get back home, you know, and we don't have any money for a ticket or a taxi. Do you think you could call the house so someone could come pick us up?"

"Ehhhh….," Bullock sighed, scrunching his nose. "Pretty precarious situation you got yourself into there, didn't you?" He looked at all three of them, clearly suspicious, and then he shrugged. "Might as well happen. Alright, what's the number?"

Dick flashed him his best 'Richard Grayson' smile and said the numbers he'd had memorized since he was eight. Bullock sat there, squinting at a rusted window grate and with three kids who looked desperately out of place as the phone rang.

"Er, hi, this is Detective Harvey Bullock of the GCPD. Now I've come across a pretty peculiar situation. I've got your kids here, sir. They say they've got no money for a taxi, and no phones for a call. Mmhmm," he turned to Dick, "What's your name kid?"

"Richard," Dick said, beaming. He felt Annabeth shift in surprise behind him.

"Kids name is Richard. Mhmm. Okay, you'll pick them up?"

"34th and 5th, please," Dick stage-whispered, leaning forward comically.

Bullock echoed the numbers back into the phone, presumably to Alfred, and then laughed and hung up. "You sure you don't want me to just drive you? It'll be much safer," his eyes flickered to Annabeth, who, between Detective Bullock and herself, packed more muscle than he did in all his years of detective work.

"We'll be fine," she snapped, clearly following his train of thought. "Let's go." She practically dragged Dick and Percy down the street, kicking garbage and scowling the entire time. Dick sent Bullock one last wave before they disappeared behind another set of row homes.

"You're name is Richard?" she asked, looking down at him as they finally slowed down to a steady walk. They weren't bothered by most people and if you kept your gaze forward and looked more threatening than you were you would be okay.

"There's a lot," he admitted, "But yeah."

"Figures," she grumbled, but only gave Percy a passing glance as if to say she'd reprimand him later for not telling her. "Are we headed in the right direction? This place is like the labyrinth."

"You said 'the' Labyrinth instead of 'a' labyrinth and I'll totally have to ask about that later, but yeah, we're good. Just a couple more streets," he replied. 34th and 5th was the general pick up spot because it was easy to create a pattern out of 3, 4, and 5. If Dick-as-Robin were ever in trouble and needed Batman to get him and he was too far from Wayne Tower, he could use that as a code. Speech, breathing patterns, and sounds were easy to make exponential. It was a small corner, outside an old drug store and a shoe shine place. Generally, Robin would be on the roof. It was easy access and higher, so if he was injured he could stay above and watch out for unwelcome visitors.

But the roof carried over onto the sidewalk on the corner. When they finally arrived, the limo was already waiting for them. It was being eyed by several individuals, but a cop down the road kept them at bay. That, and the WAYNE license plate generally meant you didn't mess with it.

Dick pointed at the sleek black car. "That's our ride."

"You're kidding," Percy said, "wow."

Dick opened the door, sliding in. "Hey, Alfred— you're not Alfred." Immediately, before he'd even was fully in the car, Dick had his dagger out and pointed at the window. Instead of the familiar grey head, it was the blonde ponytail and the dark, tanned man with sunglasses on. He turned his head barely to the side and grinned slyly.

"I'd get in if you want to see Alfred. The British guy, right?" His grin was all wrong, too wide and with too pointed teeth.

Dick paused a moment, glancing back at Annabeth and Percy. Annabeth had her dagger out too, already moving around the vehicle and toward the driver's side. Percy had Riptide poised over the tires. They were waiting for him to make a decision, respecting his choice as leader. Dick stuttered, his mind faltering, before he steeled himself and let out a deep breath. "Where is he?"

"In ya home, Mr. Grayson," Ponytail replied. "And I suggest getting in if you want. You see, we weren't quite expecting you but that lovely call brought us right to your position. You would've outsmarted the system by using that useless mortal of a cop if he hadn't rang our location."

Dick silently cursed in Romani and then glanced back, jerking his head to the door. "We have to go," he said, the hero part of him taking over. Alfred was in danger and Bruce was out on League business, off world, and so Dick couldn't just leave Alfred without any help. The two demigods, clearly unhappy with the turn of events but compliant, slid in behind him. Ponytail peeled out into the street and the ride was quiet. Instead of zooming by on the train, they had a slow and steady look at the city. It had taken a long time to see Gotham as his home, and it had been weeks since he'd seen the city.

He missed it, and some part of him wished he could be on the rooftops again. He shook the feeling of nostalgia away as they drove into the more suburban parts of the city, the Palisades grand entrance up the street greeting him almost mockingly. He could feel the strange sort of confusion mixed with awe as they drove past large mansions and manors. Wayne Manor, arguably the most ostentatious and the largest, was the furthest away. It sat on a hill, still open to the city where, if you looked out of the south windows, you'd see the large row homes barely hidden by the trees. But it took the longest to get to from the entrance of the neighborhood.

They drove up to the gate, WM emblazed in gold on the iron metal, and it slowly opened to allow the limo to go through.

"You live here?" Annabeth asked, her voice low.

"There's… a lot."

"You said that before."

"We can trust him," Percy insisted.

"I know that," Annabeth said, "I'm just surprised. Most demigods… this is a dream."

Dick couldn't help but feel a little upset at that, but Annabeth didn't know the full story and she didn't know what it had taken for him to come live here. "It wasn't a dream," he said quietly, his voice a little snappish. "Not what it took at all."

Before she could reply, the door was opened and Ponytail was gesturing for them to come out. The door to the manor was open and it was dark, the lights out, in the grand hall. The foyer, immaculately kept often at all times of the year, looked as spooky as it had on the day Dick had first arrived. The manor loomed over him and suddenly it didn't feel like, home. It was threatening and vicious. He scowled up at it.

"This way," Ponytail said, leading them through the manor.

"You work for Prometheus?" Percy asked, looking around at the large paintings and expensive furniture and items.

"I do," Ponytail answered, his voice gravely. His teeth, still sharp and pointy, obstructed his tongue to pronounce the words carefully. He spoke with a slight lisp, a forked tongue flickering in irritation every once in a while.

They arrived in the library, a place that Dick was very familiar with, but the inside was still dark and eerie. The only light come from one open set of curtains, carefully tied back with red ribbons. Dick stared at an eerie womanly figure dressed in ancient Grecian clothing, her curled hair lying flatly on her scalp and face. She was sitting at the one desk, strange wispy blue eyes staring at them.

"They are not Machates," she scowled, speaking in some strange mix of Greek and English. It took Dick a moment to translate. Machates?

"No," Ponytail replied, "they are the demigods who are trying to stop Prometheus."

The girl, barely older than maybe Percy or Annabeth, huffed and her strange ghostly form flickered. Was she dead? Or was she just another strange monster.

"I don't care about Prometheus, I want Machates," she insisted, finally settling on English.

"Prometheus brought you back—."

"I want Machates! The old man was not Machates! These three are not Machates! If I turn them in to Prometheus, will he give me Machates?"

"I know where Machates is!" Dick said. The ghost-girl shifted around and suddenly appeared in front of him, eyes wide and hair stringy across her face as if she'd been sweating a lot before she died.

"Where?" she whispered. "I was interrupted last time. I want him."

"He's in the manor," Dick lied easily, "but I won't tell you unless you let me see Alfred."

"You are in no position—."

"Deal," the ghost said, "Bring him forth!"

Ponytail grumbled something and disappeared out the door.

The ghost, now much cheerful than before, fell back on one of the couches. Dick, Percy, and Annabeth stood there. Annabeth was looking the ghost over and over, as if trying to figure out what Myth she was from. Or perhaps trying to figure out for what reason Prometheus brought her back. Dick knew that it wasn't just Ponytail and Ghost-girl, it was likely that the manor was teeming with other monsters if they were meant to wait here to capture him. He doesn't imagine Prometheus thought she would be so single minded.

He looked around the library, panic bubbling up within him when he realized the sword wasn't there. Maybe it was still in the cave? Or maybe Bruce moved it somewhere else.

"He said he had Machates," she said suddenly, "but he lied! Forethought lied! You have Machates." She grinned at them, white teeth crooked and uneven. She was still beautiful and Dick found himself staring into her wispy eyes, entranced almost. It was only broken by the sound of footsteps and Alfred and Ponytail were suddenly in the room. Alfred looked a little disheveled, and his arms and mouth were bound by more red ribbon.

"Alfred," Dick whispered.

The Butler, the man like a second grandfather, seemed relieved to see him as well but his eyes flickered to the ghost. She's risen from the couch.

"Bind the others and set this one to get Machates. You have until Apollo's ride is finished to return him to me," she said, practically shooing him from the room as if he were a small, annoying child. The door was shut abruptly behind him, and Dick was suddenly alone in the hall.

"Not whelming," he muttered, looking around the hall. At least he knew Alfred was okay. The first thing to do would be check the study, Bruce's study, in case the sword had been moved there. Then maybe the cave? But neither Bruce nor Alfred would have let the sword remained where he'd dropped it in his fight with the Echidna. He shook his head, walking down the hall to the study. The manor, still eerily dark, seemed to stretch on forever in a way it hadn't in years. It was massive, with five floors of large wooden corridors and locked and empty rooms.

The door to Bruce's study was unlocked, as it usually was when he wasn't working. And Dick slipped open the door and went inside, looking around. The room's windows were open and light flooded the room. He blinked at the sudden brightness, glancing around. No sword.

Damn.

He shut the door behind him.

Slowly ascending one of the smaller staircases meant for quick access that spiraled up through all the floors, he found himself on the second level of the house. This was technically where all the guest rooms were, as well as the second library and the second parlor and music room. Neither Dick nor Bruce were musically inclined, although Dick had a decent voice, and so most of the rooms like the small observatory that looked over the woods and gardens behind the house and the music room were covered in white sheets. He glanced only briefly though there, scowling at the lack of sword but understanding that there was no reason for it to be in those rooms at all.

The next stop was the upstairs, the third floor, where the actual living rooms were. Bruce's room and his parents old room was there, as well as Dick's room. Maybe Bruce had stuck it there, as a memento. Worse came worse and it was in the attic along with the other swords. Dick tiptoed along the area carpet that ran down the hallway, surprised at the lack of monsters but also extremely suspicious. He held his dagger in his hand, ready to fight, and his other hand was curled into a fist. The door to his room was closed, but the light coming from the bottom indicated that it wasn't dark like the rest of the manor.

There was a shadow of someone's feet in the door, blocking the light.

Dick gripped his dagger tighter and gently laid his hand on the iron knob. He let out one breath and then swung the door open, swing his dagger forward. It passed straight through the figure's torso and suddenly he had to jump back, flipping to the side, to avoid a textbook flying toward his head.

"Dick?"

He stared up at the figure. "Babs?"

Barbara Gordon stood in the door way, holding his AP World History textbook. She dropped her arms, the book falling next to her waist. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here!" he insisted, pulling himself to move his feet toward her. She pulled him inside his room, shutting the door softly behind them. "What are you doing here?"

Barbara bit her lip, pulling her arms around herself. "I… came last night, hoping to talk to you. You haven't answered any of my calls or texts in weeks and I was getting worried. I know you and Mr. Wayne produced some kind of story but you always tell me when something like happens. So I came here, but then there were these strange people and they'd taken Alfred and…" she paused to breath. "You weren't here, and neither was Mr. Wayne, so I hid before they could find me. People pass every once in a while, but they don't come in here. I was about to head down and see if I could help Alfred."

Dick stared at her in disbelief. "Does your dad know you're here?"

"I called and said I was spending the night," she admitted. "But now my phone doesn't work." She proceeded to punch him in the arm. "Where have you been?"

He didn't bother defending himself or block the attack. He deserved it. "I've been… dealing with some family things, actually."

That kept her next blow at bay, her blue eyes widening in astonishment. "Family? But I thought…"

"It's complicated," he replied, "seriously. And I promise I'll explain everything to you. But I have to set Alfred free and you need to get out of here!"

"No way!" the redhead insisted. "You have to let me help!"

"You don't know what you're up against!" he said, knowing that it would be futile. But Barbara couldn't see the monsters, she couldn't tell what they were.

She looked down at his dagger suddenly, her eyes growing weary. "Dick… why do you have a gun?"

"What?" he said, voice hollow. He looked down at his dagger. "It's… not a gun."

"Did you get messed up in something? Come on, Dick, you can tell me." She crossed her arms and glared at him, worry still etched on her features.

"It just looks like a gun," he found himself saying, "It can't hurt mortals."

"Mortals," she said dryly.

"Yeah like… you," he said. "It… it's so complicated Babs."

"Then, I don't know, uncomplicate it!"

Dick bit his lip and looked away, right at the sword that was leaning against his desk. He stopped and froze, staring at it in disbelief. "How long has that been there?"

Barbara turned and followed his gaze. "The sword?"

"Oh… you can see it?"

She didn't say anything, turning around the glare at him.

"Right, you can see the sword. How long has it been there?" And why couldn't she see his dagger? If she could see the sword, she should be able to see the dagger. There was something off here, but he couldn't tell what.

"Um, I don't know, I didn't really notice it before now," Barbara replied with a frown. "How did I not notice that?" she whispered to herself.

Dick shook his head, stalking past her toward the sword. It leaned against the desk and he finally got a good look at it. The hilt was brown and wrapped in gold, with a circle medallion type of gold piece at it's top. The cross guard was curved outward toward the blade, which looked to be made of steel with a gold fuller in its center. There were strange letters in the center, perhaps an older version of Greek or maybe something far more mystical. Dick wonders how he never noticed it before that day with the Echidna, it looks far too… extraordinary for it to just have simply been part of Thomas Wayne's collection.

He reached forward to touch the hilt, his fingers barely brushing it before his vision was engulfed with darkness.

He woke up standing in an ancient castle. Before him, facing away, was a single throne. The room was empty, the stone dark and the only light some through narrow slits in the walls. It was dirty and dusty and smelled like no one had been there in a great deal of time. Dick felt himself walking forward, around the throne. In it was seat an old man, greatly withered away by the elements. In his hand, he held a trident, and on his head was a simply band of gold.

The man opened his mouth to speak, his voice forming words that Dick didn't understand.

"I'm sorry," Dick whispered, "I don't speak..."

"Destiny… is… yours," the man said, "Take… it… up."

Dick felt panic seize him. "Take what up? What destiny?"

He looked down at the trident clenched in the weathered, leathery fingers of the man. "Is this a message from my father?"

"Take… it… up," the man repeated, lifting his trident just a little bit. He leaned forward, reaching the trident to touch Dick's forehead. "Take it…—."

"—up! Wake up, Dick!"

Dick's eyes flew open to find Barbara leaning over him, her face scrunched up with worry. He shot up, blinking. "What happened?"

"You touched the sword and passed out. You had it in a death grip, I couldn't get it out of your hands," she said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah… I'm fine I just…" he looked down at his left hand. His dagger had fallen into the floorboards, sticking straight up, and in his hand he held a small vile of water. "Had a strange dream…" he whispered.

Barbara followed his gaze. "A dream? You didn't have that…"

"Before, I think it was less of a dream and more of… something. I don't know." He picked himself off the ground and shook his head, holding his new sword in his hands. It felt perfect in his grip, well balanced and a good length. It wasn't like the other Greek swords, a Xiphos, or even the Roman sword he'd heard about from Jason's descriptions. It was long and flat, double edged. "We still have to rescue Alfred and my friends," he said. "What time is it?"

"Almost sunset," she said dryly.

He jumped. "What? How long was I out?"

"A couple of hours. Dick, I couldn't wake you up. And with those people patrolling the manor I can't get help or get water or anything…" she seemed sorry.

Dick frowned. "When I was walking, I didn't see anyone… how is it that there are just people moving around that I missed?"

"You never did tell me why you were here," Barbara said. "I don't know what's going on Richard Grayson. You need to tell me if we're going to get out of here."

Dick blinked. "You're right, Babs. I'm sorry. We need to save Alfred and my friends first. You want to help right?"

She nodded, eyes focused on his face. Dick grinned. "Ever heard of Machates?"

To be continued...