Chapter Text
Talia’s tongue clicked as she answered the phone, heels clicking on the pavement.
Her hair was whipping around in the wind, and for half a moment she wished she tied it up.
Then Bruce’s voice crackled across the phone.
“Talia.”
“Beloved,” She answered, watching as Annabeth Chase walked down toward the boardwalk, “How can I help you?”
“I have..news,” Bruce gritted out, and she could hear him let out a long breath.
She closed her eyes. Damian went with the Super. He should be back home- safe and sound.
He should be.
“It’s about your family,” He continued, and she clenched her jaw. He knew about Perseus. Her son. He was going to-
“You have a brother.”
What.
“Excuse me?” She asked, turning on her heel, “What do you mean, exactly?” The words came out in a hiss. Talia Al Ghul was a person of finesse. Blood- in the Al Ghul line- requires an acceptance. There were many bastards that Ras had killed. Was this one who had slipped out of reach?
Maybe she could offer him in Perseus’s, in Damian’s place. Barter his life for her son’s, He would do. He would be enough.
“It’s a young man,” Bruce continued, “By the name of Perseus Jackson. I wouldn’t believe it myself either- but he’s almost the spitting image of Ras, if he was far younger. Some structural differences, probably from his mother, more Mediterranean leaning, but definitely a relation.”
Talia’s grip on the phone tightened, the phone case groaning under her grip.
“You are incorrect.”
Bruce knew. Bruce didn’t know.
She tried to keep her breathing as even as possible, and then paused.
Would he help?
Her beloved had a soft spot for children. For those in positions due to their heritage. He could help-
But did she trust him to.
“Talia..”
“He is not my brother,” She continued, “Do not waste your time pursuing that avenue.”
She bit her lip, “I-I will,” Talia pinched her brow, “There are forces at play here, beloved, that I cannot reveal without grave repercussions. I will tell you what I can in time.”
She turned back to the ocean, as Annabeth Chase waited on the shore, “Prepare two rooms in your Manor. I will be there the day after tomorrow. It seems we have much to discuss.”
She hung up, and strode toward Ms Chase.
***
Annabeth stared at the ocean. It was calm here in Montauk. It nearly always was during the summer months, particularly in August. She had believed that it was due to meeting Percy’s mother here. To Percy being born here.
But Percy hadn’t been born here.
Was it merely because he believed he had been?
Did Poseidon know the whole time?
She clenched her fists, accepting her anger-and then shoving it deep, deep down, so when she was alone she could scream a lot.
That usually helped. It also helped with the drakon population at Camp so, a win is a win. Totally not anything even remotely concerning and she was not going to talk about it.
Talia’s heels clicked on the boardwalk, and Annabeth turned, arms crossed, “Well?”
Talia frowned, and reached around her neck for a pendant-that Annabeth hadn’t noticed before.
She cupped it in her hands carefully, and crouched by the water, letting the sea water gather in her palms along with the pendant.
Then the water shimmered. The tides slowed.
“Talia,” A voice came.
They both turned, and Poseidon stood on the beach.
Annabeth felt hot, burning rage build up in her gut.
He looked so much like Percy. In the eyes, in the smile lines, in the wavy, tousled hair. She knew that Percy would look like his father when he-
If he ever reached that age.
She dug her nails into her palms, the pain distracting her from the howling unfairness. They had done so much. And yet it was never enough. It never could be enough. This never-full pit that they had to drag themselves out of simply for existing.
“Lord Poseidon,” Talia’s voice was clipped- her acid-green eyes staring daggers at her..son’s father, “Why, pray tell, did you not inform our son, of his parentage?”
Poseidon crossed his arms, raising a brow, “I did.”
She scoffed, “Of him being your son is one thing. Him being my son, is an entirely different story.”
Annabeth groaned internally. Of course-this is what they would be doing. She dug around in her pocket for her phone, tapping her fingers on the new bronze dagger by her side as she scrolled through, hunting for Grover’s contact.
Grover would be a welcome calm and level head amongst all this testosterone and egos.
He didn’t usually use a phone, but he’d answer. For her.
Three rings.
“..Annabeth?”
“Grover,” She muttered into the phone, “Say something that’ll help. Please.”
“He’s calm,” Grover immediately said, “Unharmed. A little anxious, but he seems okay. Wherever he is.”
Annabeth let out a shaky breath, “I can’t believe he did this. I know he needed space. Especially from Sally,” The words sounded weak, even to her own ears. She closed her eyes, “I just wish he’d told me.”
“He wasn’t really thinking, at the time,” Grover offered, “Fight or flight. Sometimes it’s a straw that breaks the camel’s back. Except, Percy isn’t a camel. And straw wouldn’t break a camel’s spine. You know, that’s actually a terrible metaphor. Sometimes it’s one more drop that makes the bucket overflow. That’s much better. From a logical standpoint. Which you…like.”
That got a breathy laugh.
Poseidon and Talia had moved further down the beach. She should be listening. Arguing.
She really couldn’t bring herself to.
“How are you doing?” She croaked, wiping under her eyes. The wind stung against them, but the water still remained calm.
Grover let out a long breath, “Not great. I hate he ran off. I hate he tried to handle this by himself. I’m glad we know what’s going on. I want to strangle him and hug him at the same time but-”
“That’s par the course for us?” Annabeth offered.
“Does this mean you and I get three runaways each?” Grover wondered, “I mean, we had the one during the whole Labyrinth, then last summer, and now. That’s three.”
Annabeth snorted, feeling the tears start to fall in earnest, “I already ran away once when I was seven, so I guess I only get a pitiful two.’
Grover snickered, “I will carry the burden of running across the country next time and getting the two of you to chase after me. And a lot of monsters chasing after you.”
He paused.
“Maybe I won’t get the two of you to chase after me. Not a big fan of the whole monster deal.”
“Welcome to my life,” Annabeth offered.
If Grover heard her hitching breaths, he said nothing. She didn’t mention the faint sniffling she heard either.
“We will both hug him so hard,” She decided, “When we see him, he'll think we’ve become octopuses. And then I’m making him swallow a tracker so this doesn’t happen again. I don’t think my heart can take it.”
Grover laughed, “The radiation will be worth it in order to have peace of mind. Also so I can leap out at him so he can feel a fraction of the fear I’ve felt every time I get a “Percy’s gone missing” call.”
“He’d probably stab you.”
“I’d make an excellent laurel sapling I’ll have you know.”
“Laurel, hm?” Annabeth pondered, “Nah. I’d peg you for more of a buttercup type.”
“Buttercups represent joy and happiness!” Grover announced, “Which is what I bring into everyone’s lives.”
“More like you take their furniture out of their lives. By eating it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Grover muttered, “You and your animal diets, mocking the poor innocent satyr."
Annabeth sagged a little, crouching on the sound, “We will find him, right?”
“Annabeth,” Grover said, his voice a warm comfort, “Of course we will. Not Olympus or Erebus can keep all of us apart. And we’ll stick together this time.”
“We say that a lot,” Annabeth said, running her fingers on her camp necklace, “We aren’t very good at it.”
“Practice makes perfect?”
She stood then, brushing the stray grains of sand off her jeans, “I gotta go, G-Man.”
“See you around, Wise Girl.”
She gave herself one more minute to collect herself, and then readied her game face.
Annabeth crossed the beach over to Talia and Poseidon, just as the god waded back into the surf.
She glared at Talia, “Well?”
Talia pinched her brow, “Poseidon has introduced his son to Princess Diana of Themiscyra. Known, commonly, as Wonder Woman.”
“Hera,” Annabeth cursed, “Typical.”
Talia raised a brow, “Why did you-?”
“She sucks. A lot. Ask Percy why he lost six months of his life,” Annabeth gestured at the sky, “Someone likes to mess around. With our lives.”
Talia’s eyes narrowed, “I see.”
She adjusted her dark trench coat, “I have a car. We will be driving to Gotham. They are expecting us.”
“Gotham?” Annabeth asked, sliding into step with Talia, “How is that going to help us find Wonder Woman?”
“It won’t,” Talia replied, “But the people there will. Damian’s father, after all, is the Batman.”
Annabeth massaged her temples, “Of course he is.”
Talia smirked.
***
Bruce stared at the phone, the dial tone echoing in the hallway.
Prepare two rooms?
What was-
He heard a crash.
Years of training kicked in, and before he knew it, both he and Alfred bolted for the kitchen where-
Tim was there, wobbling and looking half-mad, gulping down water.
His breaths were laboured and uneven, his lips dry and cracked.
“Tim?” Bruce asked, reaching out.
Tim flinched back, stumbling into the cabinets, away from the sink, the glass falling to the floor.
“So-” Tim gasped, “Thirsty.”
Bruce exchanged a look with Alfred, then carefully raised his hands, his eyes locked on Tim’s wild ones, “Okay, bud. Do you want me to get you some water?”
Tim’s eyes locked on Bruce's, his pupils dilating, the blue a thin ring, “Water. The water. It’s tainted. I-” He reached out, his knuckles white, tendons pulling taunt against his bones as he fisted Bruce's jumper, “I need-” He swallowed, “Find Him.”
Bruce rested one of his hands on Tim’s, the other pushing back hair from a flushed face, “Find who, bud?”
“Perseus,” Tim rasped, “Need. Find. Drink.”
Bruce’s face paled.
He didn’t need to look at Alfred. He didn’t need confirmation.
What the hell was this?
What did Ras do?
What did Perseus Jackson have to do with this?
“Okay,” Bruce acquiesced, “Where is Perseus?”
He kept his voice soothing, even, not taking his eyes away from Tim’s.
Tim’s brow furrowed, “I-I..not sure. Long Island. Manhattan. Half-Blood Hill. Speed cameras.”
Tim’s voice grew more and more hoarse as he spoke.
Bruce stared at the hair, still damp. At the shattered glasses on the floor. At the trembling in Tim’s hands.
“We’ll go find him,” Bruce said.
At that, Tim’s entire posture brightened, his eyes widening, “Yes.”
“Do you want a drink first?” Bruce asked, keeping his voice casual.
Tim’s tongue slipped out, licking his lips, before he nodded.
Bruce led him over to the sink, carefully avoiding the fallen glass, keeping Tim’s hair out of his face. He hated this. Hated watching Tim- someone who was smarter than him, quick-witted and bright eyed, stumbling and dazed.
Bruce filled the glass of water, and Tim loosened one hand in order to take it, gulping the water down.
Alfred jabbed the sedative syringe into his neck.
Tim’s eyes rolled back into his head, and Bruce caught him- and the glass, before they hit the floor.
Tim felt lighter than normal. His pale skin unevenly flushed, as if he had a fever.
“Talia should be here shortly,” Bruce told Alfred, not taking his gaze away from his son’s face, icy-cold dread filling his gut, “She’ll explain.”
If this is what Tim was like, from being healed from the Pit-
What on Earth was Jason like?
And how could he fix this.
***
The Lazarus Pit isn’t a human invention.
It is an abomination.
A horrific combination of the Rivers of the Underworld- ichor, and nectar poured straight from Ganymede’s Chalice-one that promised immorality to whomever drank from it.
It was created in the Golden Age of the Gods, when mortals craved to be looked upon- to be as great as Zeus- as terrible as Poseidon, as beautiful as Hera.
There were many horrible battles fought over the Pit. Thousands died for just a chance to uncover the Fountain of Youth. Thanatos intervened, and bound the Pit to a bloodline- those who were sworn to defend it, to ensure it never again saw the light of day or fell into the arms of man.
But mortals could not be entrusted with something that can defy Death. Not without repercussions.
Hecate grinned as she bathed in the Pools, watching the once crystalline waters that shimmered with an iridescent light turn into a vibrant green. A warning.
Beautiful things tend to be the deadliest, and the bloodline, and the Pit, are no exception.
Talia had gotten stabbed in the ribcage during her first trimester. Unconscious, one of her subordinates had given her Lazarus water, in order to combat the injury.
Lazarus water that had gone through her blood, to the fetus growing in her womb.
Something growing, something that was alive. Seven weeks in, and Perseus’ heart had started beating, a pulse. A promise.
In Nanda Parbat, it was night. The Lazarus Pits swirled in ominous patterns, lapping the edges of the pool. Ribbons of gold swirled through it, as the light grew brighter.
Then, all at once, faded.
***
Belle Reve’s supply of water for the “crazies”, or the Enhanced, arrived late Tuesday evening, one week before Christmas. Snow had begun falling outside, coating the dark grey building with a layer of glistening white.
The water, bottled and secure, would be given to the inmates first thing in the morning, with the morning meal.
No one saw the ominous green glow surrounding the water. And if they did- they thought it was just a trick of the light.
***
Diana crouched over Garth, checking his pulse, before turning back to Percy.
“He’s alright,” She offered, “Just shocked. Lord Poseidon is a big deal to the Atlanteans. Typically they only see Lord Triton, and even then- in passing. He is a name without a face, so to speak.”
Percy nodded slowly, folding his arms as he leant against the wall, “What are we doing here?”
Diana cleared her throat, “Firstly, to get away from…” Percy paled with understanding. She nodded, moving on, “Secondly, to meet Garth. I thought he’d be more,” She paused, “Diplomatic. My protege, Cassandra-she prefers Cassie, I thought she would be here as well. It would be pleasant for her to meet you, and for you to meet her. I find she is most insightful, even if she doesn’t seem that way,” Diana allowed herself a moment of pride in Cassie, how she had grown, and how she holds her own in the field, “She is a most capable fighter.”
Percy smirked, “I’m sure.”
She took a moment to study her cousin, noting the tension running through his frame, and eyed the covered left forearm for a moment, before dismissing it.
“My sisters-in-arms,” Diana said, “Batman and Superman, might appear. It is best that you allow me to conduct introductions. Batman can be most paranoid, to the point of insult.”
There was a laugh, “You,” Percy said, “Would get on so well with a friend of mine, Reyna. And Thalia- but she’s your sister, so that’s different.”
Diana longed to ask. To pry and to question and to know about her people and the children, to know how to help and where they were. To reassure herself that she was not alone anymore.
But she could tell that Percy needed a breath. A moment away from the constant adrenaline that plagued his life in order to collect himself.
Most suitable. He was a fine young man.
She nodded to herself. If the one who betrayed him attempted to make amends, Diana would step in, help in any way she can.
Percy was more than her cousin- but a brother. A brother in more than blood. A brother in the clashing of swords and the roar of battle. A brother in this world that is so hurt and dangerous.
She tilted her head in thought.
Maybe she should gift him some bracers. He liked to have his arms covered, and they were an excellent defence against monsters and bullets.
And against explosions, if he cared to blow up another national monument.
She had never liked St.Louis’ Arch anyway.
***
Elena remained calm as she took the elevator up. She could sense the eyes on her from the moment she entered the building, but no matter.
Remaining as still as the surface of a lake was something that was respected. No emotion shown. They could not know her stake in this. She refused.
And then she was outside Suite 884.
Her hand was shaking a little.
This was the point of no return. She did this, and it would put a target on Talia’s (on Percy’s) back. She (he) would be hunted and dragged before the Demon’s Head.
She knocked on the Suite, and took a step back, hand on the gun she had bought, the safety off, as she pointed it, subtly, under her coat at the door.
The door slid open.
She entered, hand not leaving her gun, her eyes scanning the room around her. Five agents, all dressed in relatively casual clothes, but she could see bullet-proof vests beneath. “Speak.”
There was one directly in front of her, gun aiming for her chest.
Elena dropped to one knee, “I live to serve.”
“What is it you know of the Blood of the Demon?”
The words had the faintest accent- but she couldn’t place it. Elena lifted her head slightly, “I want to ensure my safety first.”
A click. The safety of the gun was taken off, “You will leave this room alive and unharmed so long as you reveal what you know, swiftly.”
Elena swallowed.
“The Demon’s Daughter has another son.”