An Assassin's Guide to Family

Chapter 7: Past

---------------Percy's POV: ---------------

I wasn't stupid.

At least, not all the time.

The sneaky looks the guys gave each other like they were talking telepathically, the constant rushing out of the house as if it were on fire at random times, the strange silence that filled the night as if I were the only one there within said house.

Something was going on and I knew it.

I tried to look preoccupied as I picked and pushed at my food, stealing glances at the three boys who sat across from me, quieter than usual and displaying new bandaids and bruises. When asked why they had these wounds they used an excuse that they were nearly robbed in an alley while they went out.

The problem with this? I'd heard this same excuse with slight variance around 12 times, each time they laughed it off, quickly moving on to the next big thing like going swimming, movies, or homework, though the last one never worked out right for either party.

So as I sat here, shoving a small chunk of pancake into my mouth and chewing half-heartedly I couldn't help but wonder what was so important, so lucrative that I couldn't know not a single thing about it.

The pancake slowly became a sugary mush in my mouth, forcing me to swallow as I stared down at my plate with quiet curiosity.

I knew something was amiss, but what exactly was wrong, I had no clue. No one was letting anything slip.

I'd been here a few months at this point, going to school with the trio had become normal, the kids at school finally getting over the hype of a new Wayne, Alfred's cooking soon became a treasured part of each day, and Bruce's cold stares slowly became less nerve-racking. I was settling in.

Maybe that was what scared me so much. I was settling into a new home, and I knew, whenever I get settled, something bad happens.

I bit the side of my cheek as I looked around at everyone again, their attention all turned to their plates or phones. I pursed my lips as I turned to Bruce. He was the only one without obvious wounds but the sliver of bandaid popping out of his collar proved his guilt.

I desperately wanted to know what was happening behind the scene, what secrets, potentially dirty and dark, were being hidden from me. What could possibly be so terrible that whenever I asked about their wounds they froze, looking at me for a while before gaining a smile comparable to that given to children when you baby them. What was happening?

I couldn't help but think of the girl who always needed to know more, her nose often stuck in a book, or her stunning voice carrying her queries to people with more knowledge. I couldn't help but think of Annabeth.

While I'm sure Annabeth would stop at nothing to get the information I could only wonder, was I worthy of getting this information.

As my gaze settled on Bruce I examined his every move, every slight hitch in his breathing, every strange shake from his hand while he held his coffee cup. This was the man who'd welcomed me into his house after everything that had happened. One of if not the most tragic events of my life.

He'd welcomed me to his house and provided me with a future, a family, and a way of life.

Everyone had secrets, which is what I continued to tell myself, I mean, I did for goodness sake, so to persecute them for deciding not to tell me a few things felt wrong, it felt dirty.

Who was I to question when I myself was a culprit?

I pushed back my need for answers, I just had to deal with it. This was my family now, and like it or not, they were not forced to tell me anything. With my own conclusion in mind, I let out a short huff, gaining the attention of Dick and Jason, both looking up at me with slight concern laced on their faces. I returned the look with a smile, waving it off a bit as I scooped up some more pancakes.