Dick wondered if this is what Bruce felt like before each gala, checking in with each of his children separately, and then together, to make sure they knew what time to show up, how to dress appropriately, which weapons they were allowed to bring, which had to remain at home, and so on. And then there was the managing of moods. Everyone had to be sufficiently chipper, all ongoing arguments had to be settled ahead of time, and nobody, nobody was allowed to draw blood, in any way, during the event.
It was harder than leading a team of vigilantes and Dick was already exhausted.
"I'm so happy you guys came," he said, genuinely, to the gaggle of children behind him, even as some of them rolled their eyes in response.
"You begged us to, dickhead," Jason snorted.
He had been designated as muscle, carrying the large bag of supplies over his shoulder. He had originally tried to pawn it off to Tim, but it was the same size as the younger boy and Damian had snapped at them for taking so long to get it out of the apartment.
"No Steph?" Dick asked Tim, who made a vague sort of questioning noise with his face in his phone.
Jason bumped the boy's shoulder with his elbow, making him look up.
"Huh? Oh, nope. She said she'd rather be caught dead wearing yellow."
"What's wrong with yellow?" Jason asked, after Dick and the others hummed in understanding.
"Opposite of purple," Cass answered.
She stuck close to Dick's side as they marched down the street with purpose, stopping only for crosswalks to turn green and the occasional slow-walking pedestrian.
"What are we meant to do at this park anyways?" Damian sniffed.
Dick shrugged, smiling, though the three boys behind him couldn't see. "Relax? Hang out?"
His siblings needed the break. And the vitamin D. Gotham was gloomy enough as is and they only really came out at night. Dick had picked a beautiful day for an outing. Bludhaven today was the kind of chilly that you forgot about as soon as the sun shone down on your face.
He heard Jason heft the bag of snacks further up and snort. "These two don't know that the hell that is."
Dick then heard him shove Tim and try to trip Damian, both of the younger siblings snarling back. Dick just reached down and took Cass's hand in his, swinging their arms as they continued down the familiar route, trying to ignore the ruckus behind. He wasn't as strict as Bruce and if they were attacking each other back there, then what he couldn't see was not his problem.
Dick had a rare day off, and thankfully, Bludhaven's central park was less crowded on Wednesdays than on the weekends. They approached the south parking lot, bickering about what they should actually do, since apparently sitting and enjoying the sun was not enough of a plan. Jason wanted to play assassin in the maze of trees, but wasn't willing to agree to a clean version of the game. Damian wanted to feed the squirrels, but they all knew that meant throwing nut shells for literal hours and vetoed that immediately. Cass wanted to busk in the center of the park where most Bludhaven residents frequented, but insisted they do so as a family, and Damian said he would rather return to the league. Dick thought the swings might be nice, but the playground sets only had two, and he knew they had an issue with sharing. Tim wanted to go home, but nobody would let him.
"Dick," Jason mused, breaking the argument, "Ain't that your girl?"
In that one horrible second, Dick had no idea who Jason was talking about, which one Jason was talking about, and that was enough to give him a miniature heart spasm. Logically, why would Perseus be out and about in broad daylight, at the heart of the city, but all that logic fled from him as he slowly turned his head, not knowing who would be on the other end of his stare.
A woman with thick dark hair twisted and tucked haphazardly at the nape of her neck stood at the edge of the parking lot. She tapped her foot on the sidewalk separating concrete and grass, and slowly swept her face across the streets, scanning for something. When her head turned their way, bright green eyes found his.
Dick waved, with a grin, pushing down all thoughts of wondering if he had been hoping for one or the other. Percy, though her gaze looked somewhat confused, waved back, smiling just as happily. Like at the gala, he felt his feet instinctively take him over to her. This time, his siblings followed suit, one of his brothers muttering 'So much for family time', but it was said too softly to distinguish who.
"Hi," she said, voice tinged with pleasant surprise.
Dick didn't know if they were on hugs-as-greetings terms yet, so he kept his hands firmly at his sides though they itched to reach out.
"Hi," he said, in the same tone.
They stared at each other for a beat too long like that, just smiling, before Tim pushed his way to Dick's side and interrupted them.
"Yeah," he snorted, "Hi."
"These are my siblings," Dick started, smile strained, as he looked down at Tim's smirking face, "You know Tim and Cass, but that's Jason, and Damian."
Jason crossed his arms casually and jerked his head up in greeting, while Damian just looked Percy over once and sniffed. Dick tried to send her an apologetic glance, but Percy, after giving Cass a brief hug didn't seem phased by them in the slightest. Instead, she just said hello back, good-naturedly, before her eyes scanned the park again.
"Are you waiting for someone?" Dick asked.
"My mom's bringing Estelle for the day," she replied, looking past him for a second to continue searching.
The fond, excited look on her face was contagious, and Dick found himself smiling wide at the thought of seeing the little girl again.
"Do you want to—"
Dick was in the process of asking if they wanted to spend the day with his family, something that he knew all of his siblings picked up on, with varying reactionary opinions, when a loud voice called out, "Percy!" from the side, across the street.
They all turned to the source, to see Estelle walking hand in hand with someone who looked not at all like Percy had described her mom. Tall, blond, and the same classic American handsome that Clark was. Dick hated him already. Well, 'hate' was a strong word, but the way he gently tugged Estelle through the crosswalk and grinned at them, gave Dick an appropriately strong feeling, if the immediate pit in his stomach was anything to go by.
"Sparky?" Percy gasped, giving him a friendly hug when he and Estelle finally reached them, "What are you doing here?"
"I was at camp this week and went into the city to visit Sally. She got pulled into a meeting with her publishers last minute so I told her I'd bring Estelle," he explained, letting go of the girl's hand so she could give her sister a tight hug.
This guy was on visiting terms with Percy's mom? Percy's mom trusted this guy to travel with her young daughter? This guy went to Percy's summer camp? It was October, for god's sake, Dick thought, gritting his teeth.
Estelle let her sister go and jumped at Dick with an excited giggle, and he put aside those thoughts so he could pick her up and toss her into the air. Estelle squealed on the way down, landing in his grip, and Percy laughed at the two of them.
"I'm Jason," the stranger offered, shaking his now free hand.
"Dick," he replied, with as much enthusiasm as he could force at the moment.
From behind, his own Jason smirked. "Me too," he said, sending Dick a knowing look.
"Your name is also Dick?" Percy's…friend asked, raising his eyebrows. Percy smacked him in the bicep, snorting, and he dropped his expression. "I'm just kidding."
His brother took the lead in doing another round of introductions, briefly giving each of their names and saying that they had the unfortunate circumstances of being siblings, all the while Dick silently sized up the newcomer. He looked fairly easygoing, if a tad serious, with electric blue eyes, just pale enough at the center to be unnerving.
"So, what do you do?" Dick asked.
"I'm a professor," Jason responded, "Of comparative politics usually, but sometimes international relations."
Dick and all three of his brothers turned to the newcomer with equally disbelieving looks. Cass peered at him in thoughtful interest. Dick wondered what she found in his body language, but he knew what he saw. A well-built stature, back ramrod straight with perfect posture, and a faint scar etched into the top of his lip. Dick thought he looked far more like a soldier.
"You're kidding," Tim said, narrowing his eyes, "You're a teacher?"
"Just wait until he puts on the glasses," Percy snorted, from where she was letting Estelle use her outstretched arm like a monkey bar, "Anyways, did you have anything planned today? Stella says she wants to hang out with guys."
"What Stella wants she gets," Percy's friend nodded along, and Dick had to put in even more effort to keep the pleasant smile plastered on his face.
"Not yet, but we'd love for you to join us," Dick confessed, his tone a friendly warning for any of his siblings who might protest.
"We cannot agree on an activity," Damian huffed, crossing his arms and glaring. He was still upset about the squirrels.
Percy's eyes brightened with an idea, and Dick decided that whatever came out of her mouth next was going to be a godsend. "What about capture the flag?"
Instantly, her friend Jason groaned. "Please, no, I was just at camp."
"Okay, but were you in the infirmary?" Percy shot back.
Jason muttered some back that may not have been English but was too fast and too low for Dick to comprehend, though he bet it wasn't pretty.
"Vescere bracis meis," Percy told him.
And where Dick had originally been watching the ping pong match of retorts with a vague frown, the foreign words coming from Percy's mouth startled him back into action. The translation came a little delayed, because he had forgotten the second word, but after a few seconds he understood. Eat my pants. He knew some Latin because of Bruce's lessons, and his insistence on the importance of knowing roots, but he didn't speak it. Very few people did, as far as he knew, but here was Percy, spitting the curse with familiarity and a perfect accent.
Her friend scowled mildly, understanding it as well, and opening his mouth to respond, but Tim interrupted.
"O-kay, I made teams," he said, stepping up and pointing to each of them in turn, "Me, our Jason, new Jason, and Estelle against Percy, Dick, Damian, and Cass."
This time, it was his turn to be gawked at.
"If you wish to lose that bad, Drake, I will not object," Damian, Dick's brother, smirked.
The kid was shorter than all of them, save for Estelle, but he held himself like he was in charge, or at least like he thought he was, with a puffed chest and gelled-back hair. Percy found him adorable. All of Dick's siblings were adorable in their own way, even Jason T, for Todd, as Percy had come to mentally refer to him, who stood looming over them all, pretending like he wasn't that interested in the game.
Dick looked like a mother hen stretched too thin, eyes roaming over their forms periodically. He looked a little tense, for reasons other than having to corral his siblings, but Percy couldn't tell what it was. She caught his eye and sent him a concerned look, to which he smiled softly and shook his head a little.
"Oh my gods," Jason muttered from her side, "It's gonna be a repeat of Kansas." He raised his voice toward where Dick, Damian, and Cass had slowly started to gather around her. "Can I switch with one of you three?"
"Don't be dramatic, Grace," Percy rolled her eyes, "There are no wheat fields here, you'll be fine."
Everyone thought the son of Jupiter was the serious one out of their friend group, but his heritage could not be denied. He could be as melodramatic as the rest of his cousins.
"What happened in Kansas?" Jason T asked, raising an eyebrow.
Percy looked over at the rest of the Waynes, who didn't even try to hide the fact that they were also interested. Dick peered curiously at her, but this time, Percy kept her mouth shut.
Jason G, for godly pain in the podex, raised his chin. "She tried to kill me."
"Only because you tried to kill me!" Percy gaped.
Her stupid cousin had betrayed her, and for what? She glared at him, and though he just raised his hands in defense, she knew he was doing it on purpose. He knew about her crush, because she had been stupid and had forgotten how fast gossip traveled amongst demigods, and he was enjoying making a joke out of it.
"I'm going to pretend that's just an exaggeration," Tim announced, eyeing them warily, "So we can go over the rules now."
The group split up properly, forming the two lines of people Tim had dictated facing each other. Percy stood facing her cousin, with Cass on one side of her and Dick and Damian on the other. Despite being on the opposite team, Estelle had convinced Dick to give her a piggyback ride, and she rested her chin contentedly in his hair. It was so sweet that Percy kept sneaking glances, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene.
Across from her, her Jason looked at her knowingly. Percy scowled.
"Did he actually?" Dick leaned over to ask, frowning.
"A little bit," she admitted.
Dick did that thing he did when he was worried, where his jaw ticked, so Percy grinned a little to get him to relax.
"Don't worry, we're over it," she said, then cupped her hand around his ear to whisper, "He's just scared I'll try again."
"Percy always wins," Estelle giggled, leaning down to add to the conversation.
"I'm right here."
Percy rolled her eyes at her cousin.
"Are you done?" Damian demanded, "I would like to proceed with the game."
Cass nodded furiously from her side and performed a series of complicated hand gestures toward Tim that Percy didn't quite understand, but that the rest of her siblings did.
"Stay on the green, parking lots are off-limits. We'll take the north side, and Dick, you guys take the south. We can use the orange trail through the middle as a dividing boundary," Tim explained, pulling up a map of the park to ensure everyone that the territories, were, in fact, of equal size, "We each get ten minutes to hide our flags, after that the game begins. Sound good?"
It sounded similar enough to the camp game, even if there were fewer rules than usual. No one mentioned what kind of supplies were allowed, the proper treatment of prisoners, or the punishment for maiming. By the looks of it, her cousin liked this version far better.
"Jail cell?" Cass asked.
"Huh?" Percy said, looking down at her, confused.
"Where you go when you're, ya know, out," Jason T drawled.
"Oh!" she realized, "You mean the infirmary."
"I… don't."
Her cousin muttered fucking greeks in Latin again. "I forgot you've never played a normal version of CTF. Regular people," he stressed, "go to a designated area in the opposite team's territory when they're tagged out and have to be set free by their teammates."
Percy's brow furrowed a little. "But what if they need medical attention? Seems kind of dangerous."
"Your logical reasoning is laughable," Damian glared.
Dick came to her defense immediately. "Hey that's mean, Dami!" he frowned, severely, putting a hand, almost instinctively, on Percy's back, "You should say sorry."
Damian did not, in fact, say sorry, and simply stuck his nose further up in the air. Dick gave her a pained, apologetic look, but his hand was warm and Percy, even if she had actually been offended, could not find it in herself to care.
"This playground set on our side, and this one on yours," Tim decided, pointing to the icons on the map, and everyone leaned in for a closer look, "Anything else?"
Percy opened her mouth to ask what in Hades was a jail cell, and how you could 'set teammates free' from one, but Dick whispered that he would explain later and to let his brother finish the instructions before he got fed up with them all and tried to leave.
Each Jason shed their hoodies for makeshift flags, one red and one blue, and Percy grabbed the blue one instantly, before anyone else had the chance to call dibs. She had always liked the color, a fact that not a single person she knew could deny, but this shade matched Nightwing too perfectly for her to even consider taking the other.
"Nice choice," Dick grinned.
Her smile froze, grip tightening on the fabric. And she had been doing such a good job at keeping them separate.
Parting with Estelle made Dick pout. Watching her jump off his back and run to catch up with the other Jason as he and Dick's siblings went to hide their flag made Dick pout even more. He didn't know what trick his Tim had up his sleeve when he chose the teams, but at the very least, Percy was on his team, and he had to thank his brother for doing that much.
The four of them, he, Percy, Cass, and Damian, trekked into a more secluded part of the park, where the trees grew tall and into each other, their intertwined branches forming a canopy in the sky.
"We shall hide it on the playground and refuse to tag any of our enemies so they may not enter the jail cell to retrieve it," Damian announced, crossing his arms.
"Cheating," Cass said, raising her eyebrows.
"In the trees then, out of enemy reach," he argued.
"And ours," Percy snorted, then looked down at him, "Are you gonna climb it?"
Damian nearly growled at her, and Dick scuffed him slightly on the back of the head.
"Please, please don't be rude," he pleaded.
Thankfully, Percy didn't seem to mind, but he didn't want to take his chances that one wrong insult would send her running.
"There's a fountain past that clearing," she revealed, pointing through a few trees, "We can put it in the center. Anyone who wants it has to climb through the water, which will slow them down."
That was a solid idea, and Dick bit back a smile at how Damian actually stopped to consider it, slowly nodding.
"I'll hide it," Percy continued, "I don't mind getting wet."
"I'll come with you, we can stay on defense," he added, quickly, then pointed at his siblings, "You two are on offense."
Cass grinned brightly, grabbing onto Damian's hand, and disappearing into the greenery to get into position for when the game began.
The fountain was larger than Dick expected, almost thirty feet in diameter, which meant that Percy had to wade through half of that to reach the marble statue to hang the flag. She stepped in immediately, the water coming to the center of her calf, despite Dick's offer to go himself.
"I'll keep an eye out then," he said, looking around the park.
"But the game hasn't started yet," she replied, confused, and paused in her walk. It was like she barely even noticed that her shoes were quickly soaking through.
"For police officers," he explained, "Technically you're not allowed to be in there."
Percy laughed at him, eyes crinkling at the corners, and she flicked some water at his face. "Are you gonna arrest me?"
She was gone then, walking, somehow, gracefully to the middle even in a foot and a half of water and missing the flush that overtook his face.
When she returned, shoes squelching as they contacted solid ground, they sat on the edge of the fountain, facing the more open side of the clearing. She pointed out that they'll hear any splashing if they tried to sneak up on them, and Dick nodded, impressed by the reasoning.
The rest of the ten minutes passed by quickly, Dick receiving the text from Tim signaling the hunt was on. Before he knew it, another twenty minutes had gone by, just sitting beside Percy and talking. They both kept their eyes peeled for movement, but the trees were quiet, and it was easy to get lost in conversation with her. At one point, Dick threw his head back in laughter and nearly tipped over into the water, but Percy clutched his shirt and yanked him back upright at the last second.
"What are you doing the day after tomorrow?" he asked, suddenly.
Percy glanced at him, lips pressing down in slight thought. "Nothing, I think, why?"
"I have a security shift at a food drive, some event for the mayor," Dick explained, pulling the next few words from his teeth, "Do you wanna come?"
He held his breath, keeping his face carefully neutral. "I know it's a little out of the blue, and I'll be working, but—"
"I'd love to," Percy replied, with a lopsided smile.
"Great," Dick said, faintly, hearing his heart thud, "It's a date."
He shouldn't have said that. It was an immediate mistake, he could tell, from the way Percy's eyes widened. Her smile wavered in and out of focus, as if she couldn't settle on how she should respond. Dick felt like a fool.
The bushes rustled.
Percy shot up immediately, falling into a defensive stance. Dick followed suit, glancing behind him to ensure their flag was still there, before turning back.
Tim emerged, Estelle shuffling nervously at his side, and grinned at them.
"Found you," he said.
Percy waved at her sister, but the girl looked up at Tim and crossed her arms just like his, setting her face with a determined look.
"Where's the rest of your team?" Dick asked, edging closer and eyeing his brother to try to determine his strategy.
"Keeping Cass and the demon busy," he replied, casually.
"There's no way you two are getting around us," Percy grinned, shifting her feet to get ready to move.
Tim hummed. "We'll see."
After a brief pause, in which both sides sized each other up, Tim tapped Estelle on the shoulder and said, "Go."
The two broke off in opposite directions, Tim sprinting around the fountain to the right, and Estelle going off to the left. Without needing any confirmation, Dick lunged after his brother, while Percy playfully chased after her sister, holding back her strides so Estelle could enjoy the fun of being in the lead for the moment.
Dick didn't need to win, although they probably would, because technically it was him and Percy against Tim, but he couldn't let his brother take the victory in front of her. Unfortunately, Tim was small and slippery, darting out of his grip whenever Dick got too close. He kept him away from the fountain, seeing Percy do the same with her sister.
Estelle giggled and ran in whimsical circles across the grass, while Percy held back, staying several feet away, laughing when she pretended to get too close. Dick had to stop himself from watching, so that he didn't throw the game to join in their fun.
"I'm not letting you near our flag, Timmy," Dick smirked, stopping another attempt to get in the fountain.
"I don't play to lose," Tim shot back, now milling a few feet away, looking for another opening.
Suddenly, Dick heard a soft thud from behind him, which he was going to ignore, until it was accompanied by a loud wail. He whirled around, to see Estelle on the ground, her face halfway into the dirt and scrunched up in pain. Percy rushed over, and Dick didn't even think, before sprinting to the scene.
"Are you okay?" he asked, distressed, crouching down next to Percy.
His hands hovered over the little girl, not wanting to touch her in case she had fractured or broken a bone from the fall. Percy looked on, worriedly, cupping her sister's face. Estelle sniffled, letting out another soft cry.
"Where does it hurt, seastar?" Percy asked, gently leaning the girl's head onto her knee, "Just point, if you can, don't touch."
Dick watched Estelle's hand come up, wavering, but it didn't seem to be injured, so it must have been another body part. Her lip wobbled, and she slowly pointed, but not at herself.
Percy and Dick followed the direction of her finger past them, turning, with slowly dawning horror, to see Tim. He sat perched on the top of the statue, feet dripping and blue sweatshirt hanging in his grip, smiling like the Cheshire cat.
"You…" Dick gaped, mouth hung open.
Percy let out a disbelieving laugh, and they both looked down to see Estelle stand up, abandoning all pretense of being injured.
"I win!" she squealed, gleefully, "Did you see, Percy?"
"That's—emotional distress!" Dick pouted, glaring at his brother, "You let us think she was seriously hurt."
"What are you gonna do, sue me?" Tim snorted, now walking up to them.
"I'm thinking about it!"
Percy placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him from tackling Tim, but it was a feather-light touch, and she was laughing as she did it.
The remaining four people in their group stumbled out of the trees, having heard the commotion. His Jason was covered in tiny little cuts, scowling deeper than Dick had ever seen his mouth go, and his blond counterpart had dirt coating his pants, and his forearms, looking abnormally pleased. Damian's expression rivaled that of their Jason's, his hair frizzy and riddled with pieces of leaves and small sticks. Cass looked impeccable, though her face was flushed. She smiled brightly at Dick and Percy, leading her companions over to them.
Seeing Tim holding onto his hoodie, the blond Jason reached over to high-five Dick's Jason, who returned the gesture almost hesitantly.
"I can't tell if I like you," Jason T said, bluntly.
"That's okay," the other Jason replied, shrugging.
"You let him take our flag, Grayson," Damian seethed, marching to glare at Dick, "Jackson's strategy may have worked, had you not been distracted by such a trivial—"
"We tried our best," Dick tried to soothe him, but his brother was not having it.
"He won't be able to use the same trick twice," Percy cut in, "Next time, we'll be ready."
Damian turned to her, searching her posture for any lies, before setting his jaw unhappily. He looked down at Estelle.
"You were a worthy opponent, I suppose," he sniffed.
Estelle giggled. "You talk funny."
Damian's face flushed with defensive rage, but his opponent was a little girl who was far more of a child than he was, and he could do nothing but glare. Dick and the rest of his siblings stifled their laughs, and Jason T didn't try to hide his amusement at all.
"Oh look," Percy whispered, leaning over to his ear, "The kids are bonding."
Dick's brain crashed, unable to reboot.
She didn't mean it like that, he knew, he knew, but he and Percy grinning at each other, watching Estelle try to hug Damian, while the boy pushed her off, awkwardly patting her head instead, was undeniably parental. The kids, she had said, so casually, so plainly. Something clamped around his chest and refused to let go.
Estelle blinked up at them, her hair coming undone, pieces falling over her shoulders. Without thinking, Dick crouched down at her pleading eyes, regathering it at the top of her head. Percy rolled up her right sleeve, pulling an elastic off of her wrist and handing it over to Dick so he could tie off the ponytail. Estelle grinned and set off to bother Damian a little more.
When he stood up, his Jason was blatantly staring at the display with some concoction of disbelief and disgust. Dick stared back, daring him to say a single word.
"Are those matching tattoos?" Tim asked.
Dick furrowed his brows, not knowing who he was addressing, but followed his gaze. It was flitting back and forth between the other Jason, who was trying to scrub the dirt off his forearms, and Percy, who immediately pulled her sweater sleeve back down, but not before Dick caught a glimpse of dark black letters, SPQR, and a few horizontal lines. Looking over, her friend had the same design, with a couple more lines and an eagle on top, wings spread wide.
Dick gritted his teeth. Matching tattoos? Did Percy have the eagle too? And why did he have the strangest feeling that it didn't suit her?
"It's a family thing," she replied hastily.
It felt like she was nervous, but Dick couldn't detect a lie in her words, and looking at Cass, neither could his sister.
"A lot of our cousins have it," the other Jason shrugged, much more calmly.
"You're cousins?" Dick exclaimed, whipping his head back and forth between the two.
They didn't look very similar, but now that he was searching for it, they did have the same eyebrows, thick and angular, and aristocratic cheekbones.
"You didn't know?" Cass asked, tilting her head.
That meant nothing to him. Cass could determine the relationships between people in the blink of an eye, and the fact that she knew how Dick was feeling toward someone Percy was related to but didn't say anything made him pout at her.
"We were not aware of their exact relations," Damian scoffed, "But surely you recognize all family argue like that."
Looking back, Dick suddenly felt very, very stupid.
As they watched the trio disappear through the parking lot and back home, Jason groaned.
"Don't ever make me hang out with you and your girlfriend again, dickhead. I had no idea you were down that bad."
Dick didn't even have the heart to argue back. He was too busy thinking about how he had, maybe accidentally, asked Percy on a date to which she might have said no if Tim had not interrupted them. She had asked him for the details of the food drive before leaving, so clearly, she was still planning to show, but just the thought of labeling it as a 'date' scaring her off made Dick question everything. And on top of that, he felt guilty for even asking. If he knew Perseus's civilian identity, would he have asked her instead?
"She is… acceptable," Damian said, nose in the sky, "But I would prefer you to pursue Perseus."
Cass glared at him, hands flying in sign language, and Damian shrunk back. You are not helping, little brother. And it is not your decision to make.
"Percy's hilarious, we all know she's too good for Dick," Tim said, continuing to scroll on his phone. He narrowed his gaze at the screen. "But who else is more interested in the fact that that was Jason Grace, son of the deceased actress Beryl Grace, who reported her son missing, then dead when he was two years old?" Tim looked up, to see their incredulous expressions, "Just me?"
Someone was holding a gun out to Nightwing. The looming figure stood almost twenty feet away, arm outstretched. Nightwing scoffed at something, probably rolling his eyes under the mask and the figure cocked the pistol, returning his thumb to grip the trigger better.
Percy snarled, from her perch on a nearby rooftop, launching herself over the chasm. Her body collided with the man, nearly sending him tumbling, but Percy grabbed onto his shoulders. As their momentum slowed, she pushed him down, kicking his left arm as it came up in protest. With one sharp movement of her wrist, Percy held his head to the ground, a gleaming steel knife against his throat.
"No, no, wait, hold on," Nightwing cried, running up behind her.
He tugged pleadingly at her forearm, and at her shoulder, gently urging her out of her crouch. Percy stood stiffly, letting him pull her up, but positioning herself between Nightwing and the stranger. It was only then, that she caught a glimpse of the dark red bat plastered across his chest. Her knife clattered instantly to the ground.
"I'm sorry," she said, hastily, "That's—that's my bad, I just saw the gun and, you know—"
The red-helmeted man ran a hand roughly across his throat, peeling his upper body off the ground.
"Shit," he swore, "Shit, what are you made of?"
"Skin and bones," Percy grinned, nervously. And ichor and seawater and probably a little bit of leftover gorgon's blood, she added mentally. "The usual."
Nightwing stifled his laughter into his hand, finally stepping up to do something about the whole misunderstanding. "This is Red Hood," he explained, slinging an arm over her shoulder, "Little Wing, meet Perseus." Then, he turned, bringing her along with him to the other side of the roof where a small gaggle of vigilantes had gathered. "And that's Orphan, Red Robin, and Robin. They're visiting for the night."
Percy took a second to study them. The shortest, and likely youngest, though she couldn't say for sure, was Robin, who crossed his arms. The familiar yellow R was emblazoned above his heart, but other than that, the costume was different than the one she remembered seeing on Nightwing, back during the fight with the ice villain. Red Robin was leaning against a long metal bow staff, his suit a much more muted red and black palette, observing Percy with a faint smirk. Orphan, in Percy's opinion, was the spookiest, despite the intimidating aura that they all emitted. She was the only one out of the whole group whose suit was entirely dark, all tones of black and grey to help her blend into the shadows. Right where her mouth would be on the full coverage mask, ran a seamed line with vertical divots like a row of stitches.
Percy turned her head back, to where the Red Hood was picking himself up, dusting faint dirt off of his brown leather jacket.
"Sup," Percy grinned, hiding any sort of nervous emotion behind a casual wave, "Is the Batman here too?"
Red Hood snorted, a metallic sound coming from his helmet.
"He doesn't usually leave Gotham," Nightwing said, dropping his arm back to his side, "Except maybe for League missions."
The other hero looked brighter today, but maybe it was just the full moon, shining down on the tips of his black hair and reflecting off his shoulders. Percy had to physically remind herself not to stare, by digging her nails into her gloved palms.
"Again," she said, back to Red Hood, "Sorry about that, I didn't know you guys would be here today."
The man under the helmet laughed, grabbing his fallen gun and holstering it to his thigh. "Nah, it's cool. Actually, I should thank you, for the number you did on my murderer."
Percy's half smile froze, as those words came through her ear, shooting up and being processed by whatever part of that brain dealt with that sort of thing.
"Hey 'Wing," she said, grabbing his hand, "Can I—talk to you for a second?"
She pulled Nightwing over to another edge of the rooftop, free of any other vigilantes, though any words spoken above a hushed whisper would probably be audible.
"What's wrong, Sef?" he asked, after he let himself be dragged.
"You told me the Joker killed your brother," she started, lowly, "You never said he came back!"
Nightwing instantly paled. "I thought I did."
"No, you didn't!"
Percy watched the other hero close his eyes, replaying their conversation from the docks. When he opened them, his hand come up to the top of his head, and he grimaced.
"No, I didn't," he confirmed, "I probably should've mentioned it."
Percy was seconds away from pulling her hair out as she ran a hand over her masked face.
"I wonder what they're fighting about," Tim commented.
On the other side of the rooftop, Perseus ran her fingers through her hair, frustratedly, as Dick gestured with his hands in futile apology.
He didn't tell her Jason was alive, Cass signed, smirking.
"What an idiot," Jason said, sighing.
"I agree," Damian replied, sneering at the thought of sharing an opinion with his brother, "She is quite upset."
They watched Dick settle his hands on Perseus' shoulders, lips muttering something softly that made her somewhat relax.
"I'm going to throw up," Jason said.
"Into your helmet?" Tim scoffed.
"Speaking of," Damian said, eyeing his brother's head, "I believe she has dented it."
As Jason yelped and reached his hands up to feel for imperfections, Cass and Tim helping him look, Damian took advantage of their distraction to cross the roof and interrupt Dick's conversation.
Dick really thought he had mentioned it. Oh, the Joker took someone very important from me, but not to worry, it's—for the most part—all good now. Turns out he had not, and let Perseus think that one of the Robins had been taken from the world forever. Dick shuddered at the thought.
She wasn't yelling at him for it but instead looking back with a sad, disappointed sort of face that was much, much worse. He could nearly feel his siblings laughing at him from the other side.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated, hands coming up the rest on her shoulders.
She only looked serious for a second longer, before pouting, and he felt himself sigh in relief. "Enough to get your fancy tech people to take down the Bat Barber posts?" she asked hopefully.
"I… I can try?" Dick offered, but to be perfectly honest he wanted to do no such thing.
All those uploads from Gotham residents kind of solidified Perseus as part of the bat family and he really wasn't willing to let go of that, for better or for worse. She narrowed her eyes.
"I can always ask Oracle," she said, patting the pocket that held her phone, "I have her number now, remember?"
Dick paled. That was entirely something Babs was capable of, and after seeing Perseus in action, she had enough admiration for his new partner that she might actually do what she was asked of.
Thankfully, before he could get the chance to deflect, Damian chose that time to stalk up to them, lifting his chin to look Perseus in the eye.
"Spar with me," he demanded, "I would like to see your skills in proper combat."
"Robin," Dick sighed, "You can't—"
"Sounds fun," Perseus grinned.
Damian led her to the center of the roof, and Dick had no choice but to follow. If he couldn't stop this from happening, he could absolutely supervise.
Perseus and his brother unsheathed their swords simultaneously, holding them out in front in proper greeting.
"A katana," she said, approvingly, eyeing Robin's weapon.
"A xiphos," he noticed, "The coloring is peculiar."
Dick had seen Perseus's dual-colored sword many times, and the split metal still put him on edge. She never explained the purpose of it, whether it was anything more than a purely aesthetic choice, meant to throw enemies off balance. Soteria seemed to function as any other sword, so it didn't seem prudent to bring it up. However, now that Damian pointed it out, a xiphos was a Greek sword. Dick wondered how far the theme went.
Jason walked up beside him, and sat down onto the gravel, resting his back against the roof railing. "This oughta be good. My bet's on Perseus."
"Really?" Tim asked, leaning against the barrier, "Are we putting actual money on this? I want three hundred on the demon brat."
"What are you, made of money?" Jason snorted.
"Yes," Tim said, "B's."
Cass was silent for a long, long moment, before saying "Perseus."
"Well, shit," Jason and Tim said, at the same time.
Dick was too preoccupied to participate in the betting. It was his brother against his partner and disregarding his dilemma on who he wanted to win, or if he wanted them to fight at all, he was too busy watching to make sure neither of them hurt the other.
Perseus lunged first, feinting right then bringing her sword up to cut across Damian's chest, but the boy's blade was already meeting hers. He swept around, slashing like a demon, but Perseus countered all his hits like she knew where each one would land. The noisy clang of metal on metal was never-ending, and Dick held his breath as he watched.
He had seen Perseus fight with her sword and had watched Damian train even longer, but it felt different this time. Their moves were different, not out of character exactly but holding each other to a standard neither of them seemed to enjoy.
Dick saw the moment Damian snapped, lips curling as he deflected a hit and swiped horizontally, his sword following the line of Perseus's throat. The girl threw her head back immediately, dodging the undeniably fatal hit, and Dick instantly threw his arms out to stop the fight.
"Stop, that's enough," he commanded, voice hard, marching up to his brother, "Robin, you know we don't perform those kinds of moves. If she hadn't ducked—" Dick cut himself off, and took a deep breath to try to finish, but Perseus reached out, resting a hand on his bicep.
Damian was gritting his teeth but looking down at the ground. He knew he had messed up, and was unhappy about it, but unwilling to admit it.
"It's okay 'Wing," Perseus said, lowering her sword, and turning to Damian, "You were just acting on instinct, right?"
Damian's face pinched more, and Dick could tell he was glaring harder at the gravel under the mask.
"Yes," he admitted, through clenched teeth.
"Then let's go again," Perseus said, making both Dick and Damian's heads shoot up to see if she was joking, "Let it all out. This time, don't hold back, and I won't either."
Oh god, Dick realized, she was being completely serious. She had a faint smile on her lips, but her posture was casual, and confident, like she saw no problem with letting Damian tap into his murderous tendencies. She couldn't have known that he had been raised by assassins, but she knew that that slash had been meant to kill, and was clearly fine subjecting herself to an entire spar with those same moves. Excited even, if the look on her face was anything to go by.
Damian's lips parted in surprise, but before he said anything, he glanced at Dick.
He was asking for permission, Dick realized. Damian didn't often do that. Against his better judgment, Dick found himself stepping back into the audience.
"Please don't actually kill each other," he added, his nature not allowing him to leave without giving at least one pleading warning.
This time, Perseus and Damian fought for real, and Dick could instantly see the change in their bodies. They were both on offense, and both on defense, trading blows that would have maimed and beheaded lesser opponents. Dick knew Damian's style well enough to sometimes recognize the maneuvers before his brother executed them, but Perseus didn't repeat a single move, swinging her sword in a seemingly random fashion, but Dick knew better. Where Damian was small and vicious, taking every window of opportunity to try to land a blow, Perseus was fast and completely unpredictable. Not one move was telegraphed.
If Dick thought he had been holding his breath before, he was wrong.
Suddenly, one of Damian's slashes made contact, spilling the first blood in nearly ten straight minutes of fighting. The katana came down on Perseus's unsleeved arm, making a moderately sized gash through skin and muscle.
Dick's breath hitched and he stepped up again, but Cass pulled him back by the arm.
"On purpose," she whispered, stopping him in his tracks.
Damian stumbled, almost unnoticeably, but Dick saw the way he hesitated, eyes lingering on Perseus's wound just a fraction of a second too long. Almost missing it, in a blink, Perseus had Damian face down to the ground, a foot on his back and her sword against the back of his neck.
"Yield?" she grinned.
Damian tapped out, and stood up with his usual scowl, re-adjusting his utility belt. He was breathing almost heavily, but from the opposite side, Perseus was only just winded, and still grinning.
"I—you let me cut you," Damian said, furrowing his eyebrows in what looked like the start of anger.
"Yup," Perseus agreed, "Do you feel better?"
Dick had to admit, that after the spar, his brother did look less coiled up than usual. Maybe Perseus was right in letting him work out his pent-up aggression.
"Why?" Damian demanded, ignoring her question.
"I thought it might throw you off," she continued, then more softly, "And it did."
Damian clenched his fists.
Dick almost stepped forward to break up what seemed like the beginning of an argument, but then Perseus did something interesting. She crouched down, cupping her hand around Damian's ear, and started to whisper.
Dick couldn't hear the words, nor see her lips move to read them, but whatever she was saying took almost a few full minutes. Damian had gone eerily still at the beginning, but when Perseus was done, his mouth was parted ever so slightly in surprise. He seemed to be at a loss for words.
Perseus straightened, and Damian tilted his head to follow her gaze, looking up with some sort of veiled reverence. For him, the expression was incredibly rare.
"One day, I shall earn that sword from you," Damian said.
Dick blanched. "You can't just lay claim on other people's property, Robin."
But Perseus just laughed brightly and ruffled Damian's hair. "You gotta grow into it first, baby bird."
For anyone else to attempt the act, his brother would have instantly resorted to violence, but with Perseus, Damian just swatted her hand away, grumbling and trying to fix the style. Dick could hear Jason and Tim's surprise, and the reluctant exchanging of bills from across the roof, but he couldn't get the scene in front of him out of his mind.
Perseus, as good as she had made on her no-killing promise, fought Damian like she was used to his style, used to defending against blows that aimed for the throat or the heart. Dick could tell that however she had trained, she wasn't taught to injure just enough to subdue.
Back when he had first met her, he had gotten the feeling that she had been fighting for a long time. So had he, and the rest of the siblings, but they all had their reasons—vigilante, street kid, child assassin—and those backstories manifested in their fighting style. Dick stared at the way Perseus guided Damian's elbow to show him a new disarming technique, and wondered what her reason was.
He wanted to ask, so badly. He wanted to know what she had lived through that made her the way she was. It was on the tip of his tongue. But when he opened his mouth, what came out was, "You're bleeding all over the roof!"
Perseus paused, glancing down at her arm with a grimace. The cut wasn't enough to require immediate attention, but thin rivulets of blood ran down to her wrist.
"Oops," she said, "Didn't think that one through."
Perseus twisted her arm inward and wiped as much of the red as she could manage onto the body of her suit. She looked up, to several incredulous stares.
"What?" she asked, "It's machine washable."
A.N.
Small fluffish chapter before a more plot one so I hope you guys enjoyed it!
And yes, you will find out what percy told damian at some point in the future
Also, I wrote the chapter on the basis that injured demigods either surrender or get pulled out for medical attention, but I looked it up and apparently camp's capture the flag does have jail cells, according to the demigod files, but it was too late to take out the jokes, so oops.