The loud ping of Percy's phone pulled him from his light sleep. Slapping his hand blearily through the darkness, he cracked an eye open. After a few moments for his vision to adjust, he groaned as he took in the text alert from an unknown number. It was how the family communicated with the wise guys. Each wise guy was given their own phone from the family which the higher ups communicated with through a varied network of burner phones. It did not escape Percy's notice that that meant that the danger was entirely on the wise guys. It was clear and convincing evidence of criminal conspiracy, linked entirely to the owner of the phone while the capos and other guys were cut free.

Sighing Percy scanned over the message briefly, then tossed his phone down on the lumpy mattress before collapsing on his back. The message was short and sweet, demanding Percy head over to a parking lot over by the docks. For a few seconds, Percy didn't move. He'd been up for most of the previous night trying to find any kind of a lead on Helena Bertinelli. But he hadn't had any luck. He'd gone back to the bar in the hopes of finding her again, but she'd disappeared on him. He'd then spent most of the night going from Falcone hangout to Falcone hangout in the hopes of finding something.

But he'd found nothing. It was like the woman had slipped away into nothingness; a considerable feat for someone who had been so conspicuous the night before. With how she was capable of disappearing, he worried that he wasn't dealing with the trust fund brat that he had initially thought.

Deciding he'd wasted enough time, he hauled himself from his bed and threw on some clothes before heading out.

Two hours later, he shuddered, rubbing his hands together before reaching out and gripping the cup of coffee between his legs. It had long since gone cold, but he took a sip regardless. The pitter patter of rain on the roof of the car serenaded him as he sat in silence. The passenger door opened, and a wiry man with thinning brown hair stepped inside. He took his sopping wet hat and shoot the water out of his hair.

"Fucking hell, I hate the spring," the man grunted. He fruitlessly tried to smooth out his mess of hair for a minute before giving up and putting the hat back on. Without looking at Percy, he reached into his large, black coat and pulled free a manilla envelope.

"Moving up in the world kid," he said, passing the envelope over to Percy. "Words gotten to some important people about how you handled yourself last week. They're impressed." He turned to look at Percy, showing off his yellowing, crooked teeth as he smiled. "Keep this up, and you might turn out to be worth a damn."

Percy didn't respond, but he wasn't expected to. As the low man on the totem pole, it was his job to show up and do as he was told. Nothing more. He took the manilla envelope and opened it. Inside was a number of photographs detailing the outside of an unobtrusive restaurant. The next photo was of a pair of familiar men dressed in well-tailored suits walking into the building. The last photograph was late at night. A number of men were in the process of hauling large boxes into the restaurant. Percy looked up at his passenger.

"One of Sally's businesses. Been using it to launder money for the last ten years or so." He tapped the photo of the outside of the building. "Your job, is to burn this bitch to the ground."

Percy frowned. He didn't understand the point of that. Even if the place wasn't insured, that didn't mean that he couldn't still use the business to launder money. It would be little more than a symbolic gesture. A middle finger at Salvatore. Christian was acting on emotion, and just wanted to piss off his brother. Nothing more.

But it wasn't Percy's job to question the nonsensical decisions. It was his job to make himself look capable.

"When?" He asked, tucking the envelope under his thigh.

"As soon as possible, preferably." The man said. Then, without so much as sparing another glance Percy's way, the man flung open the door and shuffled back out into the downpour. Percy waited until the man had disappeared before his shoulders slumped and he rested his head on the wheel of the car. Sighing heavily, he turned the car on and drove out into the gale himself.

The restaurant was sequestered in a quiet portion of Bleake Island, tucked into a former commercial district that had since fallen into disrepair after the '08 recession. Percy pulled his car over to a curb half a block away from the restaurant. The lights were on, and through the windows, Percy could see a number of people wandering around inside. There didn't appear to be too many customers, but that wasn't too surprising. He shifted around in his seat for a minute, before finding a semi-comfortable position and settling in for the rest of the day.

His mind wandered to the occupants inside the shop. They had to be aware of what the business was and what it was for. There was no escaping the reality, but that begged the question of whether or not they were willing participants or had been strong-armed into the position. He scratched at his stubble. He reminded himself that this was what he had signed up for. He'd known that he was going to be taking on the risk of hurting innocent people.

He roughly shoved the issue from his mind. Setting an alarm on his phone, he closed his eyes and tried to catch a couple hours of sleep. He awoke several hours later to the light chime of his phone. Blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he took in his surroundings. The downpour had receded into a mild drizzle, and the droplets of water bouncing off the flickering streetlights cast a murky, ethereal fog over the street.

Cracking his neck and twisting his spine in a vain attempt to loosen himself up, he extricated himself from the car and began walking down the street. Cutting into an alleyway a three doors down, Percy counted the backdoors until he was certain that he was in the right spot. Pressing a palm to the door, he could feel at least three people inside the building. Focusing in on the mist, he gripped it tightly and dusted it down through the room. He waited about a minute, before drawing his pistol and kicking the door down. He maneuvered through the building smoothly, clearing each room with a methodical percussion. He stepped over the prone, sleeping forms of the first two men. He found the third man slumped over a desk in the main office in the back.

Stowing his weapon, he spent the next several minutes dragging the three men from the building. He didn't bother trying to restrain the three, there wouldn't be a point to it. Knowing the men wouldn't be waking up, Percy made his way back to his car, and parked outside the front of the building. He then hauled a pair of five-gallon canisters from the trunk, having bought for and subsequently filled up the instruments before arriving, and walked inside. Hefting the canisters onto a table, he proceeded to the kitchen, where he quickly identified the industrial stoves, near the back of the room. Luckily, they were propane powered.

It was a quick job to detach the tanks from the stove. Walking back to the dining area, he spent the next several minutes spilling the gasoline over every square inch of the room he could reach. Was it overkill? Absolutely, but the Family was looking to send a message, and a message Percy would send. With the canisters emptied, he deposited both on the ground before proceeding back to the kitchen. With a twist on both tanks, propane began to quickly spill into the room. Satisfied with work, he strode back to the entrance. After turning his car back on, he re-approached the door, and propped it open with his foot. Digging around for a moment in his pocket, he pulled free a small lighter and flicked the flame to life. With a light toss, the lighter landed in a small puddle of gas, which instantly burst into flames. Marching back to his car, he only just managed to pull away from the curb before the once dark street was thrust into seeming daylight. The oranges and reds of an enormous fireball cut through the thick sheets of rain like knife, followed promptly by the dull thumps of a pair of explosions as the propane tanks exploded.

Reaching into the cupholder, he gripped his phone and dialed up his contact. However, before he could finish the call, the silence was shattered by an ear-splitting screech. It was unlike anything he'd ever heard in his life, like a million minuscule howling animals all screaming in misery. His window shattered, spraying him in a shower of fiberglass as the windshield fractured and split. Before he could even truly comprehend what was happening, an invisible force slammed into the side of his car. The vehicle was violently thrown into the air, tumbling end over end down the street. Percy's head slammed into steering wheel, before slamming into the shattered fiberglass of the broken window. His head was spinning, he was fairly sure his ears were bleeding, and he couldn't tell if he was up or down. He was vaguely aware of the door opening and something grabbing him and hoisting him out of the car.

His head still spinning, and his vision obscured by the bright orange glow of the raging fire behind him, he couldn't make out the blurry figure pulling him free. He was vaguely aware that the person was speaking to him, but his ears were ringing too loudly to make out anything. He whipped his hand out, the flat of his palm slamming into the shoulder of the arm holding him. He could feel the shoulder joint dislocate and he was dropped to the ground. Still disoriented, he scrambled to gain some distance between himself and his attacker. He scrambled to try and find cover. His palm found the mangled metal of his car and he desperately pulled himself to the other side.

He took deep, heaving breathes in a desperate attempt to stop the spinning and gain his bearings. There was another ear-splitting screech and his body reacted instinctually, jumping clear of the car mere moments before another invisible force slammed into it. Metal screeched and groaned as the car was tossed unceremoniously down the street. His vision finally clearing, he felt his stomach drop out of his chest.

"Canary…" the name fell from his lips in a half gasp, half snarl.

"Always nice to meet a fan!" She snapped back, her right hand wrapped around her left arm which protruded at an odd angle. With a snarl of her own, she snapped her shoulder back into place.

"You're strong," Canary observed, casually rolling her injured shoulder, "You must be Falcone's new friend. Fortunate. I was looking for you." She turned and looked over at the burning remnants of the restaurant. "Got you doing the grunt work huh, tough guy?"

Percy ignored the comment, choosing instead to glance around the street. Extending his senses outward, he couldn't feel anyone lurking in the shadows. At least he wouldn't need to contend with the Bat. He turned his attention back to Canary, and he felt his stomach lurch. Part of him. A rather large part, desperately wanted this fight. The pain he'd felt months ago at the realization of finding her at the center of the conspiracy to manipulate him. But she'd still been special to him. Been his friend. Been, potentially, something more. He didn't want to fight her. Didn't want this. But that wasn't an option now. He wasn't Percy Jackson here. He couldn't be. He had to be Ricardo Bianche. Wise Guy in the Falcone Family.

There was really only one option.

He charged forward, closing the distance quickly but Canary reacted swiftly. Swiveling out of the way, her elbow collided with the back of his head. His leg snapped out, tripping Canary's ankle. She started to tumble down, but she caught herself. Placing her hands flat against the concrete, her foot snapped at his jaw. Ducking out of the way, he gripped her leg tightly and swung her around throwing her violently to the ground. He forced himself to hold back on his strength so as to not launch her across the road. She slammed violently to the ground, but she was quick to re-gain her balance.

She stormed back at him. He blocked the heavy kick at his head and threw a punch of his own that she ducked out of the way of. Changing her stance, she threw a flurry of punches at him. He tried to maneuver out of the way, but she was fast. He felt his teeth dig into his tongue as a vicious southpaw smacked him in the chin. Cursing violently, he ducked under the next blow.

The next several seconds played out like an intricate dance. She ducked. He punched. She punched. He dodged. But Percy was the first one to make a mistake. Overextending on his next punch, she managed to wrap up his arm and use her leverage to force his arm behind his back, painfully dislocating his shoulder.

"Three nights ago, a bunch of Christian's boys took on a chop shop. Were you there?" She snarled, tightening her grip on his arm sending a wave of pain rippling down his spine. He swore. There had always been a risk that one of the other capes would catch onto him, but he hadn't thought it would take this quick. He'd half expected Batman to tell the others to fuck off, but clearly, he'd been wrong.

"Who the fuck is Christian?" He snapped back, trying to buy time as he thought through his options. He needed to get away from her. Immediately. Needed to contact the Bat, needed to get her off his ass. He briefly considered just telling her the truth. Ripping off his necklace and showing her what was happening. But he decided against that. She didn't deserve that. Didn't deserve that dignity. It was petty, but he didn't care. In a more professional sense, the fewer people that knew what was going on, cape or not, the better. It played better into the cover. But selfishly, Percy just didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

She tightened her grip even more on his dislocated shoulder.

"Don't play that game big guy, you're not bright enough. Now talk!"

Percy hissed, and his elbow shot out and smacked her between the ribs. She let out a gasp of air and her grip slackened. Using the opening, Percy's leg shot back and slammed into her midsection and she flew to the ground.

Percy turned to face her as just as she began to rise to one knee, Percy recognized as she braced herself and sucked in a large breath. Knowing he only had a moment to react, he shot forward. He tackled her to the ground, thrusting his palm into her jaw and forcing it shut. Her head snapped back as they tangled together and it head smacked loudly against the road, but she was nothing if not stubborn.

As Percy drove her to the ground, she wrapped her legs around his middle, and using his own momentum against him, she reversed their positions. While she was clearly disoriented, she didn't let up as she levied blow after blow into him. He tried to raise his arms to shield his face against her onslaught, as he patience began to wane. Rearing his head back, he slammed the crown of his forehead into her own. She let out a shout of pain and surprise, and Percy used the opening to shove her off of him. She staggered to the ground, trying to stand back up, but the several concussive blows were weighing on her and she stumbled back to the concrete. It was his opening.

Sparing a brief glance at the ruins of his vehicle, Percy left it for a bad job and took off at a sprint down the road, cutting into the first alley he could find. Glancing behind him he couldn't see her chasing after him, so he took the risk of jumping over a nearby ten-foot concrete barrier. Landing on the other side, he doubled his pace. He ran, and ran, and ran. He didn't stop for half an hour, not until he'd run nearly 5 miles and he was back in the heart of the city. Only when the familiar sounds of sirens and clubs reached his ears did he stop and catch his bearings.

What the fuck did he do now? Did he report this into the Bat? That was almost certainly be the smartest choice. The Bat would likely be able to call off Canary, do Percy's work for him, and keep her off his tail. Because he was certain she wasn't going to back down. If he knew her like he did, Percy was certain that she was only going to double down on this. But he didn't want to do that either. He was bitter enough to be working with the Bat, he didn't want to bring any more in. This wasn't their job. They had no right to be doing his job. To be taking extrajudicial matters into their own hands. He'd been subservient to gods before; never again.

Pulling the burner phone out of his pocket, he texted the one number in the contacts list. With the message sent, he snapped the sim card and discarded the phone into a nearby dumpster. He sighed and checked his watch; it was a little after three in the morning. He didn't want to wake Gordon up so early, but he probably couldn't get away with waiting until the sun was up. With a groan of resignation, he pulled out his other burner and dialed up Gordon.

"What?" Demanded a very groggy Gordon.

"Hey pops," said Percy, "Wanted to run some stuff by you. You and mom got a minute?"

A pause.

"Robinson Park, north end of the reservoir. Thirty minutes."

"Sounds good, see you then." Percy ended the call and shoved the phone in his pocket before turning on his heel and turning north. Taking off at a brisk walk, it only took him twenty minutes to get to the north end of Robinson Park. There wasn't much in terms of greenery in the city, only a handful of parks, and Robinson was by far the biggest. Though the majority of the park was occupied by a large, man-made reservoir. It was so early, so blessedly there wasn't anybody in the park beyond the odd homeless person who scattered as soon as they caught sight of Percy.

Planting himself on a nearby bench, he extended his senses outward and scanned the perimeter of the park. Thankfully, he didn't sense anyone around him, so he settled in to wait. He expected that Gordon and Renee would be at least fifteen minutes late. They would want to scope out the area before making their approach. So he settled in for a few minutes of rack. It was around twenty minutes later when he awoke to the sound of footsteps silently approaching. He waited until he felt two bodies sit down beside him before he opened his eyes.

"What happened?" Gordon, on his right, asked.

"Burned down a restaurant on Blake, corner 4th and Merry. Money laundering operation for Sally. Took out the mooks and tied 'em up in an alley a few blocks away."

"As fascinating as your tales of arson are Metro," yawned Montoya on his left, "Can we skip to the point."

"I was getting to it," Percy said wearily. "As I was leaving, I was jumped by Canary."

"Fuck," Gordon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Considering you managed to get away, I can't imagine it went too badly. You bring her in?"

"Hell no," Percy said with a touch more venom than he perhaps should have. Gordon arched a brow.

"Any particular reason? And how the hell did you manage to get away?"

"She underestimated me, and I took advantage." Percy explained, "And I think it adds more to the cover."

"Explain," said Gordon simply.

"If I have a cape coming after me, it sells to the rest of the family that I'm legitimate. More importantly, if I have one of them coming after me, it will make the family think I might be worth a damn. I think this is an opportunity."

"I don't think we're seeing the same thing big guy," said Montoya skeptically. "How is one of the big guns for the League coming after you possibly good?"

"Because," said Percy patiently, "If one of the capes is gunning for me, it sells me as dangerous. As someone the capes are after. Someone like that is useful. If I can leverage this properly, we may be able to move the timeline up."

"They see someone who can keep up with a cape, and that persons becomes more useful," hummed Gordon thoughtfully. "And yet, on the other hand, this could backfire spectacularly. Christian might just as easily see you as little more than a liability and have you killed. Or worse," he glanced meaningfully at Percy, "How do you expect to keep Canary off your back? You might manage to get away from her once, but do you really want to test your luck? The absolute last thing we need is your sorry ass getting thrown into Blackgate."

Percy pondered the question for a moment. He needed to be careful, it wasn't as though he could let slip that there was no way Canary would be able to actually best him.

"Getting away from the impossible was once my job. Being able to slip away from places that I shouldn't have been able to even get into in the first place." He met Gordon's eyes, "If and when she finds me again. I'll be prepared, and I'll get away."

Gordon snorted, "There's a fine line between confidence and arrogance son, and I don't think you're straddling it particularly well." He sighed, and glanced over at Montoya. She shrugged unhelpfully but glanced up at Percy.

"He managed to make it out of the Asylum in one piece."

"By sheer dumb fucking luck maybe," Gordon muttered. He fished around in his jacket for a moment before pulling out his pipe and lighting it.

"This is a bad, bad, bad idea." He said after a moment. "We should tell the Bat. Set something up. I agree that we can leverage this, and I know you're capable and confident son, but this isn't some two-bit d-lister. Canary is a League member. Doing the impossible is also part of her job. If we bring her into this, we can stage something. You two make it look good, and she lets you get away. It solidifies your place with the Family, and you don't end up in a cell."

"And we might completely lose control of the investigation in the process," Percy countered. "How many capes do we let into this before they start running the show themselves? I don't need to explain how much evidence is going to be thrown out if there's suspected cape involvement."

Gordon grunted, rubbing at his furrowed brow.

"In case you forgot, the only reason this entire scheme is working is because of capes." He pointed at the necklace around Percy's neck. "Batman is as interested in doing this properly as we are."

"All the more reason to keep the number of people involved as small as possible."

All three of them jumped at the voice, Percy unconsciously drawing his pistol and forcing Gordon into a protected position. But he lowered the weapon after seeing the speaker.

"Jesus," breathed Montoya, holstering her own pistol. "You think you could not give us a heart attack Bats?"

The Batman ignored her, striding around to the other side of the bench to stand beside Gordon.

"Should have known you would already be aware of this," Percy sighed, slouching deeper into the bench.

"You and Black Canary had a brawl in the middle of a city street." Batman growled, his eyes narrowing behind his cowl. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"Forgive me for being an optimist."

Montoya snorted, and elbowed Percy in the side.

"You can't seriously think this is a good idea," said Gordon skeptically. "Especially when the solution is simple."

"The fewer that are involved the better," repeated Batman. "There are risks involved in bringing Canary in as well, and for staging a confrontation. Christian Falcone, for all his faults, is no fool. Neither is Salvatore. If they suspect for even a second that it wasn't a real fight, Jackson will be dead before anyone can do anything."

"Thanks Bats," Percy muttered through gritted teeth. "You really know how to inspire confidence." Batman ignored him.

"Jackson is resourceful," Batman continued. "Have some faith, Jim. This is the right play."

Gordon sighed, but nodded. "I trust you," he turned and looked at Percy. "I trust you too, I just don't want us taking unnecessary risks."

Percy nodded; he could understand that.

"Jim," said Batman, drawing their attention back to him. "I need to speak to Jackson. Preferably alone." Gordon arched a brow but nodded his ascent. Montoya shot Percy a speculative look, to which he shrugged. He was as lost as she was. She gently squeezed his shoulder, before rising and joining Gordon as they slunk away and back into the night.

Percy and Batman sat there for some minutes. Simply staring at one another. Finally, after nearly five minutes had passed, the Bat broke the silence.

"Thank you, detective," he said softly, with more emotion Percy had ever heard come from the man.

"For what?" Percy asked, confused.

"For not killing Canary tonight," he said bluntly. Percy blinked, discomfort creeping through his chest.

"Save it then," he said quickly. "Killing her would have been inconvenient."

"I'm sure that's the only reason," said Batman, not bothering to hide his skepticism. But, to Percy's relief, he didn't press the subject.

"What do you want?" Percy asked with a sigh. "I'm sure the reason you wanted wasn't just for not killing Canary."

"It's not," confirmed Batman. "I've been looking into the League of Shadows." That got Percy's attention. Part of the reason he'd gone undercover in the first place was to get out of the hot-seat he'd created for himself by killing Klarion and the Joker. It had been the League of Shadows who had organized to have him killed on Arkham Island. Percy's going undercover was meant to allow Batman to quietly inquire into what the League wanted with him.

"What have you found?" Percy asked.

"Between the information you provided from Lady Shiva, what Canary uncovered during the attack on the Justice League, as well as our own investigations have discovered that many of our enemies have been colluding together." Batman explained "The League of Shadows was tasked with killing you after you killed Klarion, who was in league with this…group. We believe they have agents in Gotham looking for you."

"I guess I pissed some people off, didn't I?" Asked Percy with a small smirk. The idea that he had ruined the plans of some megalomaniac was a small boon.

"This isn't a laughing matter," scowled Batman. "They may not be gods or monsters, but the League of Shadows is not to be underestimated. They have power and resources that rival even that of the Justice League. Ra's al Ghul is a man who has lived for hundreds if not thousands of years. This is a serious threat."

"Then point me in their direction and I'll deal with them," said Percy hotly, rising to his feet. "Instead of hiding me from the world, how about I just deal with this before it becomes more of a problem?"

"I'm not letting you spill any more unnecessary blood," said Batman coolly.

"Let's make something abundantly clear," Percy said through clenched teeth. "You, don't let me do anything. This operation we're running right now? This isn't me pledging my subservience like one of your little child soldiers."

"I am aware of the nature of our relationship." said Batman evenly, "But even so, if I even knew where the Shadows were, I wouldn't tell you."

Percy wanted to tell the man that it wasn't like he would have a choice in the matter, but truth be told, he couldn't be bothered with this little shadow war at the moment. His priorities were firmly on the here and now, and dealing with Falcone. If these people wanted to kill him, he would find out without the help of the Bat.

"If that's all?" Percy prompted, turning on his heel.

"Keep your head on a swivel, detective," said Batman. "The League of Shadows isn't afraid to go after anything to go to you. Family, friends, no one is safe."

Percy didn't look back at the man as he stalked back towards the city.

"Then it's a good thing I don't have any family left to intimidate."

AN: As always, thanks to my boy Double for being the best Beta of all time. Hit up the link in my bio to join the Emerald Library where I hang out with some of the best authors out there. Thanks again for all the love and support, and I'll see you next week.

Love,

LilDB