Chapter Text
Tim was dangerously close to falling back into old habits. Right after Duke, Percy, and Damian left for school, driven in the black Bentley by Alfred, he found himself creeping up the stairs and standing outside his bedroom door.
He wasn’t stalking, okay? Just… acquiring any and all necessary information. Which was not ‘just a fancy way to say stalking,’ Jason.
“...Oracle, why is tonight so urgent?”
“Something is coming…”
“…prophecy could be starting?”
Oracle? Prophecy? Tim pressed his ear closer to the wood, straining to hear anything he could. There wasn’t much more information for him to get, just how Percy apparently had to go out on patrol that night–ha, Bruce was not going to be happy about that–and how it was essential to some grand plan Tim was unaware of.
But Oracle, the way Annabeth said it, stuck with him. It was an epithet. A title. Not just a cute little nickname, no, it clearly held some kind of meaning.
For a moment, Tim wondered if she was talking to Barbara. But a quick glance at her tracker via his phone confirmed she was still at her house, probably making breakfast for herself and Commissioner Gordon before they both had to properly begin the day. So Annabeth was talking to one of Percy’s friends, either Rachel or Nico. Purely based on the feminine voice that responded, Tim felt safe in presuming Rachel was the ‘Oracle’ in question.
“Did you need something?” Nico’s voice suddenly broke through Tim’s mind.
Tim blinked, realizing the door was now wide open, and he was leaning against nothing. He went just a little red as he saw six eyes stare back at him–Nico’s bored glare wasn’t nearly as intimidating as Rachel’s suspicious frown or Annabeth’s cunning stare. If he were an ordinary civilian, he would’ve shuddered.
“I, uh, heard you mention the Bats,” Tim said, quickly coming up with an answer. “‘Bat stuff’, as it was so eloquently dubbed.”
“So?” Nico raised a dark eyebrow, the faint Italian accent buried in his words almost biting.
“Well, I mean, I’m technically ‘Bat stuff’,” Tim almost stuttered. “Third Robin, commonly known as the smartest and the best, discovered Batman and Robin’s identities at nine years old, now Red Robin.” He raised a hand on instinct. “Not like the restaurant.”
“Good to know,” Annabeth said slowly, giving him time to recoup himself.
Tim liked Annabeth. She matched his energy–an almost manic need for knowledge and complete understanding, even to the point where it’s not logical according to the surrounding world. He knew if she was silently encouraging him to take a breath, he probably should. So he did.
“Sorry,” Tim said after a second, clearing his throat. “I just wanted to say, if you have any questions or theories or anything, feel free to run them by me. Usually I wouldn’t be an open book, but you already know as much as Percy, I’m guessing, so there’s no point in me keeping anything from you.”
That got their attention. Annabeth, especially, lit up, her gray eyes shining as if the idea of interrogating Tim about his family’s nightlife was going to be the highlight of her week.
“Is Superman–Clark Kent, that one wasn’t hard at all–really an alien? How did he get to Earth? And how about Green Lantern, what–”
Wow. Okay. She had questions.
Tim nodded along as Annabeth rattled off at least a dozen questions, not even stopping to breathe in between each one. It was only when Nico put a hand on her shoulder that she paused to inhale a gasp of air, the faint blueness that had tinted her lips quickly dissipating.
“Okay, wow,” Tim chuckled.
He, of course, answered every question as vaguely as he could. Yeah, he’d told Annabeth he was an open book. He just didn’t specify that he was open to the first page and then everything after that was stuck together with old gum and spilled fluids he didn’t dare name.
“Yeah.”
“Crash landing.”
“Weird universal military thing.”
“Ground beef.”
“Pink kryptonite.”
Finally, after an entire hour–yeah, Tim timed it–Annabeth finally seemed to be temporarily satisfied and allowed him to leave.
Tim barely reached the hallway when he realized he hadn’t asked any questions of his own. He almost turned around and came back in, but the voice of regretful reason in the back of his head told him that Annabeth wouldn’t give anything up unless she had to. And unless Tim was willing to threaten her, she had no reason.
So, like a coward, he retreated.
He found himself in the Batcave, his eyes quickly landing on Bruce, typing away on the Batcomputer while sitting in his Batchair.
Dick had a theme in mind and made sure it stuck, okay?
“Hey Bruce,” Tim greeted, walking over. He paused once he got close enough to make out the words on the screen: Two Children Missing After Hotel Explosion; Young Girl Vanishes from Her Home, Parents Say She Was A Flight Risk; Rachel Elizabeth Dare’s Latest Act of Activism–Is The Young Heiress as Noble As She Claims? “What are you doing?”
“Research,” Bruce said simply, the Batman-esque growl in his voice coming out.
“I thought you were vehemently against us doing research on Percy,” Tim asked, sitting on the edge of the desk the enormous keyboard rested on. “Shouldn’t that extend to his friends as well?”
“I’ve changed my mind.” Bruce didn’t shrug, but Tim thought the motion might’ve been appropriate. “His girlfriend knows our identities. We need to understand how dangerous these children are.”
“Come on, B,” Tim sighed. “You’ve been doing so well. Don’t tell me you’re falling back into old habits.”
Tim decided not to mention his spying from just an hour ago. He didn’t really feel the need to bring up his hypocrisy.
“It’s for the safety of everyone involved,” Bruce defended, still not looking away from the screens as he scanned the articles. “If Percy’s friends are threats, then we need to, at the very least, remove them from Gotham.”
“‘At the very least’ implies you’re considering more drastic measures,” Tim deduced. “Bruce, come on. Percy isn’t fully comfortable around us yet. He’s still keeping things—we can both tell. It’s obvious. Don’t give him a reason to keep it up.”
“Nothing will go into action unless absolutely needed,” Bruce sighed. “And it will only be as a last resort. Happy?”
“Good enough,” Tim nodded, hopping off the desk. “Now, come on, Wayne Enterprises and Drake Industries have a meeting at nine. The entirety of both boards are going to be there, which, unfortunately, includes us.”
.. .-.. --- ...- . -.-- --- ..-
Duke Thomas was shockingly normal when you looked at the circumstances surrounding his life. It even impressed him sometimes, how he’d turned out reasonably well-adjusted while being a vigilante and a meta–both in Gotham, nonetheless–, having had his parents stolen from him by the Joker and his jokerized gas, and the myriad of other canon events he’d lived through.
Yeah, despite it all, he was a straight A student, an award-winning writer and poet (although most of his pieces were published or submitted anonymously), and protecting the city every morning as Signal.
So he was fine being friends with Bruce’s newest ward. (Son? Responsibility? Child in the eyes of the law and no one else? Nobody had really solidified the details yet.) Percy acted normal. More so than the rest of the Wayne clan.
But Duke knew he wasn’t.
As they sat down in AP Psychology, their shared second period, he couldn’t help but watch Percy as he arranged his pencils in varying formations, keeping his hands busy. He had two–Duke knew Percy had come into school with three and must’ve already lost one.
“Hey, Percy,” he asked as other students poured in. “About Annabeth… she’s… she’s really smart, huh?”
“The smartest human alive or dead,” Percy said, a wry smile on his lips. “Has been since we were kids. While we were getting kidnapped–that first time, not any of the ones after–” Duke did not state how concerning that statement was, but he figured it went unsaid. “–she found this architecture-video-game-thing, and managed to replicate the entirety of New York City in barely a day. She finished the entire state four days later, but we had to drag her away before she could try and conquer the whole United States.”
“Oh wow,” Duke nodded. “She really loves architecture.”
“It’s her passion,” Percy agreed.
“So if she’s got her thing, Rachel’s into art, and Nico…”
“He’s a ball of kittens and smiles under all the death-y stuff,” Percy smirked.
“Sure.” Duke did not believe that for a second. “So what’s your thing, Percy?”
“Uh…” Percy paused, eyes darting down towards his writing utensils. Duke noticed the wrinkle that developed on Percy’s forehead as he thought, as if it was difficult for Percy to pick just one safe thing to tell Duke. “This Ken’s job is water.”
“Not beach?”
“Nope,” Percy shook his head. “I’m no Ryan Gosling. I do have a Canadian friend, so close enough.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out his notebook. “Plus, I’m not the biggest fan of the sand. I much prefer the ocean.”
“Yeah, Gotham isn’t exactly the place for that,” Duke winced.
“I can tell,” Percy grimaced. “That harbor is disgusting. I’ve got half a mind to go clean it myself, but I think it’d take a thousand years.”
Before Duke could bring up Bruce’s latest environmental intiative–which was inspired by their last encounter with Poison Ivy–the teacher knocked on her desk, drawing everyone’s attention, and beginning class. They were talking about the scientific method: hypothesis, theory, etc. Percy didn’t seem too engaged, which Duke couldn’t entirely blame him for. It wasn’t exactly rocket science. Percy had to know this, even with his more unconventional schooling experience.
The class ended, and Duke didn’t get the chance to talk to Percy before the guy darted off. His third period, Algebra 2, was right next door, and started in five minutes. It was the only bit of time management Duke had seen from his new housemate.
Finally the day ended–with Duke inundated with an average of 18 pages of homework per class, because of course–and the two of them, along with Damian, climbed into the car.
“Hello, boys,” Alfred greeted. “How was school today?”
Duke gave his usual answer of ‘good’, accompanied by a short story about the highlight of his day, a 100% on a pop quiz in APUSH. Damian did the same. Alfred had a routine he liked after school, and even after the summer vacation, they remembered it vividly.
Percy, on the other hand, did not.
He just shrugged, said ‘fine’, and turned to stare out the window.
Alfred frowned, glancing back in the rearview mirror. “Master Percy, I’m afraid ‘fine’ is not a sufficient response to my question.”
“Oh, um,” Percy shrugged again. “It was good. I kept to myself. Didn’t get kicked out, which, you know, is good for me. Breaking the status quo.”
“Hm,” Alfred hummed. “And what was one good thing about the day?”
Percy blinked. “I… I guess I finished an assignment early in Latin and got some free time.”
“Very nice, Master Percy,” Alfred nodded, a small smile coming over his lips.
“Alfred likes to be involved,” Duke explained. “He wants to know what’s going on in our lives.”
Percy just nodded, giving that same small smile. Duke knew what that meant: he was happy to be included in that family tradition. He had felt the same way when he moved in with the Waynes, the suffocating other-ness. But Alfred made it all better. He always did.
Evidence being, as soon as they got home, ocean blue cookies were awaiting them in the kitchen.
.. .-.. --- ...- . -.-- --- ..-
“Am I still Percy’s chaperone?” Dick asked, leaning over Bruce’s desk at Wayne Enterprises. He’d called out of work–again. He was a gymnastics instructor in Blüdhaven, besides being Nightwing, and was easily able to push off a few classes to his coworkers, no big deal. They hadn’t complained, anyway. “You know, for Orca stuff?”
“Yes,” Bruce said firmly. “I don’t want him going out at all, but I doubt I can keep him away forever. So when he’s out there, whether he likes it or not, you’re tailing him.”
“Get it, got it,” Dick nodded. “And what about his friends? Do you think there’s any risk of them trying to join him?”
“Absolutely,” Bruce set down the files he was looking at. “I doubt he’ll let them come out into the field if he has any say in the matter–he seems far too protective of them for that. But they’ll be involved as long as they’re in Gotham, which hopefully isn’t much longer.”
“B, you can’t expect him to only associate with Gothamites,” Dick sighed. “He had a life before he came to us.”
“I understand that,” Bruce snipped. “But it was obviously a dangerous one, and I cannot allow him to continue to be involved until I understand why he was there in the first place.”
“If you think that’s going to work, you didn’t learn anything from the rest of us.” Dick stood up straight, leaning back to crack his spine, sighing in relief at the release of tension. “He should be getting home from school soon. I’m going to go hang out with him, maybe get some more info.”
“Try your best to keep him inside,” Bruce hummed, turning back to his paperwork. “I have a bad feeling about him going out into Gotham tonight.”
“Sure,” Dick rolled his eyes. “I’ll be about as good at that as you were at keeping me inside.”
“I had a success rate,” Bruce protested, finally letting a smile invade his face. A slight one, but a smile nonetheless.
“A success rate of 29%.” Dick laughed as he opened the door, “Not exactly world record material.”
What was world record material, though, was how fast Dick got home. Even with Gotham traffic at a high on a Thursday after school, he still managed to make it back to the Manor in just a half hour, right as Alfred arrived home with Duke, Percy, and Damian. He caught the three of them as they entered the kitchen for a quick snack, sneaking up behind the two he was more familiar with and rubbing his fists against their heads.
“Hey, kiddos,” he greeted, laughing as Duke and Damian shoved him away. “How was school?”
“Insipid,” Damian sighed. “As usual. I still don’t understand why I am not allowed to attend school through an independent study program. Or advance by a few grades. Drake did it, and he’s only slightly ill-equipped to handle society.”
“Fuck off, Damian!” Tim shouted from the hallway.
“You need to develop social skills,” Dick reminded, wrapping an arm around Damian’s shoulders. “We knew it was a lost cause with Timbo, but there’s still hope for you.”
“I hate you both!” Tim shouted again.
“So can I stop going?” Percy laughed lightly at Tim’s misery. “I have at least three friends. I succeeded in the goal of the education system, according to you.”
“Nope. You have to make friends outside of that Camp of yours.”
Percy rolled his eyes dramatically, groaning loudly. “Just say you hate me.”
“I hate you,” Dick sang, switching his full attention from Damian to Percy. “And because I hate you, I’ve decided we need to hang out a bit to reconcile our differences. Can I help you with homework or anything?”
Percy raised an eyebrow, looking just so slightly confused. “Uh… I mean, I have some stuff for Mythology, but it’s not–”
“Perfect!” Dick cheered, pushing Percy forward towards the hallway leading to his bedroom. “Let’s do that. I love mythology. History’s first stories. Will it take a while?”
“Not really,” Percy led the way. Dick knew his friends were holed up in his bedroom, doing God-knows-what. He hoped they wouldn’t mind his Bat-ordered babysitting. “I mean, we’re just supposed to pick our favorite Greek myth and write an analysis of it. It’s not hard.”
“And what is your favorite, Perce?”
Percy paused for a second, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth. “None of them. They’re all dumb.”
“What?” Dick gaped, pausing for a moment. He thought the kid was into Greek mythology. He mentioned it often enough, and it seemed to be the focus of a good chunk of his life. “Not even Hercules? Eros and Psyche? The Creation of Athens?”
“Hercules is a self-centered asshole, Eros is a manipulative creep who doesn’t understand basic human decency, and the whole Athens thing was just a godly dick-measuring contest,” Percy counted off on his fingers, his eyes gleaming with anger.
Dick frowned.
“You talk like you know them, like you were there,” he chuckles forcefully. “Jeez, how immersive was that Camp of yours?”
“I’m just… critical,” Percy said, his voice devoid of the joy that had been there not five minutes prior. “Come on, if you really want to help me with this assignment, let’s get it done. I hate homework.”
So Dick followed Percy into his room, where the rest of his horde was in fact waiting, murmuring quietly in Ancient Greek until they spotted him.
He greeted them awkwardly in their language, his pronunciation off from a lack of practice with other speakers. Their eyes widened.
“I thought the Ancient Greek was an Atlantean thing,” he said with a tilt of his head. “How come they speak it?”
“I figured it out so we could communicate better,” Annabeth said quickly. She was a much better liar than Percy, Dick could tell. The only way he even knew she was lying was the way her right shoulder raised by just a millimeter. “He helped me with some pronunciation and stuff, and I taught it all to Nico and Rach. It’s like having our own secret language.”
“What, was English not good enough?” Dick teased.
“Obviously not,” Nico said blankly. “‘Secret’ was the key word there, Nightlight.”
Dick blinked at the play on words. It wasn’t exactly original, he’d heard it before from Jason and Tim and Damian and Duke and Steph and Cass, even Bruce one time, when the guy somehow managed to get gassed while on patrol. But the way this Nico kid delivered it–very similar to Damian, with the same bite, but a lot less venom–caught him off guard. As if the insult was hardly worth the effort it took to say it.
“Right, right,” Dick laughed, choosing to simply move on. “Well, I’m just here to help Percy with some of his mythology homework.”
Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Percy needs help with his mythology?” She eyed her boyfriend, clearly resisting the urge to laugh.
“No,” Percy stuck his tongue out at her. “He offered, I’m guessing, on Bruce's orders. It’s fine, the assignment isn’t hard.”
“I would hope not,” Rachel smirked. “What is it?”
He groaned. “It’s dumb. I have to… I have to analyze my favorite Greek myth.”
Immediately, Percy’s friends burst into laughter. Even the heartless Nico di Angelo was snorting, covering his mouth to hide the way his lips were curving up.
“Oh, there’re so many options to choose from,” Annabeth gasped between giggles. “I think you should pick Calypso. No, Circe and her island.”
“I’m rooting for Daedalus’ Labyrinth,” Rachel added, snickering.
“No, think about it,” Nico grinned, a flash of teeth, “he should do the Lotus Eaters. Or the creation of horses.”
At that last suggestion, Percy looked absolutely disgusted, waving his hands in front of his face as if to blow away how gross the idea apparently was.
“Nico, trip on a blade,” he hissed. “Ew.”
“What, but I thought you loved that story!” Nico protested, the laughter of the group rising. Even Dick was starting to chuckle, although confusedly. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Poseidon turning into a stallion and making sweet, sweet love to his si–”
Percy pounced, practically tackling Nico to the floor with a growl bordering between playful and mortified.
“You little shit!” He wrapped an arm around Nico’s neck, pulling the boy down as he tried to scratch at his older cousin’s arm.
“It’s a true story!” Nico protested, his nails digging into Percy’s tanned skin, leaving reddened half-moon marks behind. “A very true, very interesting–”
“Shut your mouth, or I’ll tell Will you’re not following doctor’s orders,” Percy snarled with amusement.
For a moment, Dick had been genuinely worried Percy was seriously upset. The kid didn’t play-fight, he play-brawled. But the tone of his words was just barely enough to convince Dick otherwise. Barely. That along with his own experience having the same fights with Jason and Tim and Damian and Steph and Cass and Duke and–
“You wouldn’t dare,” Nico challenged.
“Oh, yes I would.” Percy sat up, freeing Nico from the chokehold. “I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. You’ll be grounded to your cabin for weeks, Death Boy.”
Nico rolled his eyes, groaning dramatically.
“You’re an evil man, Percy Jackson,” Nico sighed. “I cede, I cede.”
Dick looked between the two, then glanced up at Annabeth and Rachel, who were watching the whole thing with lovingly irritated expressions.
“They love each other, we swear.” Rachel put up her hands as if claiming innocence.
“They just…” Annabeth shrugged. “Well, we campers have a unique way of showing our love. To be honest, I’m surprised they didn’t start stabbing right then and there. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“We’re trying to be civil, Annie,” Percy sat back on his heels. “With manners. You don’t swordfight your cousin in another man’s house. It’s rude. What if I got blood on the floor?”
“Right, cause you’re all about manners,” Nico snorted. “Mister Finishing School over here. What, are you going to stick your pinky out next time we have tea?”
“Of course,” Percy put a hand to his chest as if offended. “‘Tis but the proper way.”
Percy stood up easily, holding out a hand to help Nico back up as well before turning to Dick.
“I’m just going to write my analysis on the founding of Athens,” he said, tossing his backpack onto the floor. “Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Annabeth and I both know that one like the backs of our hands.”
Dick nodded, not moving. Percy was trying to get him to leave, obviously, but Dick wasn’t planning on doing so.
“Awesome, then it shouldn’t take the three of us too long,” Dick crossed his arms firmly.
He wasn’t going to let Percy out of this.