Percy fits the bill for Gotham's very favorite family for the heroic with miserably mysterious pasts.
Getting placed in the custody of the Crown Prince of Gotham closes a door and opens another. Add half a dozen "roommates" to the mix and chaos ensu...
The sunlight streaming in through the left-open blinds made Percy's head pound through still closed eyes. Percy had had nothing to drink the night before (made obvious by the dryness taking over her throat), still, the overall experience had pushed all of her buttons and left her feeling drained.
The cold she felt coming on didn't help either.
She turned over in the bed to burrow her face in the duck-down pillows when a sharp knock pierced through her skull. She let out a feeble groan to signal the person in. The door opened with a loud creak and Soft footfalls told Percy the Person had stepped in.
"I have been made to come fetch you," Damian's unconcerned voice came from the foot of her bed. Pennyworth asks you join us for lunch."
"It can't possibly be lunchtime. I just went to bed," Percy's reply was muffled by the pillows she laid on.
"And that's impossibly telling, is it not?" She heard him shifting his stance, "I do not care what activities you partake in during your own time as long as they do not skew the media's image of us. I implore you to come out for lunch."
"I'll go later, I'm sure Alfred won't mind." She heard him scoff in reply and shut the door rather loudly as he left the room.
♆♆♆
Several hours later, when the migraine she had been nursing was reduced to a dull ache, she ventured into the kitchen, seeing Alfred starting up on dinner. She apologized softly to him for having missed lunch and he seemed o take pity on the purple eye-bags that hung miserably on her face when he served her a hot cup of French onion soup. Percy thanked him genuinely and settled into the breakfast bar, tying per long hair up before she started eating.
Halfway through her second cup, Dick pranced into the kitchen. Alfred had been long gone at this point, having left something slow roasting in the oven while he went on to have tea in the sunroom.
"A little birdie told me you were out late last night," Dick prompted, hands on his hips as he stood beside the breakfast bar.
Percy only hummed in response, shoveling soup in her mouth.
"He also told me you were at that party yesterday," he continued, trying to get more information out of her.
"Yeah, it was kind of boring," she told him with a straight face, reaching to grab the glass of water set before her.
"The party that got shut down by the cops on account of illegal drug and alcohol use?" He asked incredulously, "Look I know you were a troubled kid, and we want to help you, but we can't if you're out at parties on the weekends getting intoxicated."
Percy let out a single breathy chuckle. "I wasn't out there getting 'intoxicated.' Someone asked me to go so I did. I didn't have a great time and I left before midnight." She rolled her eyes before mumbling a "troubled kid my ass."
"You don't have to lie, Percy. My best friend is a recovering addict, there's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Do you need a breathalyzer to believe me?" Percy let her spoon drop into the terracotta serving bowl, the utensil splashing some of the broth that was left. "Look, personally, I have no history with alcohol, but based on some parts of my troubled past I wouldn't want to develop a history with alcohol. So if you don't mind, all you birds can shove your assumptions up your ass. Thanks." She moved to wash what she'd eaten out of, pointedly ignoring the fact that Dick was still trying to speak to her.
Had she reacted a bit harshly? No.
...Maybe, but she felt it was justified.
So Percy found herself walking through the echoing halls of the manor. They were lit with warm lights coming from fixtures that looked like oil lamps, creating a haunting ambiance. She walked into a study. The lights were off and it was slightly colder than the rest of the house, but she felt it was as good a place as any to sit in and wallow in self-pity. She sniffled to try and breathe out of her stuffy nose and wrapped her sweater tighter around herself, losing the door and sitting up against a wall.
Percy noticed a faint light coming from underneath the desk but dismissed it until a faintly lit bedhead came peaking from under the sturdy wood of the desk.
"Hi?" Percy greeted. She could barely make out the figure blinking. He looked down to his device, turned on the flashlight, and shone it on Percy.
"Hi. Why are you here?" Tim said, not unkindly, he sounded genuinely confused. He was rocking himself gently back and forth. It looked comfortable so she decided to join him in his rocking.
"Dick was acting like his namesake. I blew a fuse," Percy explained shortly, sighing and relaxing against the wall.
"He's like that sometimes. He's nice and cheerful, but I don't think he keeps in mind how the actions he does 'for your sake' affect you immediately," he took off his earbuds, "what'd he say to you?"
"Accused me of being under the influence. I'm pretty sure he also implied that I was some form of addict? What about you? You sound like you're speaking from experience, Timbo."
"Uh- he sorta replaced me, I guess, it felt that way at least. I don't know if you heard—you seem pretty sheltered—but Bruce went missing a while ago. But, well that isn't important right now."
"I'm sorry."
"It's- it's fine," he sounded unmoved, "it happened a while ago. I'm sorry he accused you of all that. He had a hard time when Roy fell into drugs."
Percy felt the topic getting heavier, so she decided to change the conversation. "What were you doing here in the dark?"
"My econ homework," he turned the tablet to face Percy, a word document littered with numbers shone before her.
"In the dark?"
"This room has warm lighting and it hurts my eyes." He must have felt the question coming on so he continued by telling her: "this room is the coldest in the house so i won't get sweaty if I stay for too long."
"Huh, you're right. Do you mind if I stay here for a while?" Percy asked softly. She wasn't in a mood to talk anymore.
"Sure." Tim scooted back under the desk, putting his earbuds back in.
Percy let her head rest on the wall, listening to their combined breathing and tapping the pads of her fingers against her legs.
♆♆♆
I do not own any DC or PJO content.
p.s. my jaw hurts from activities not-to-be-named. qotd: when will people around me stop assuming i'm autistic? when will my parents stop invalidating trans and nb identities?
i wrote the beginning of this ch on my math notes. i promise my handwriting isn't usually this bad
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
