Chapter Text
If it weren’t for the several glares Alfred was sending his way, and the fact that both Sally and Percy would hate him for it, Bruce would have kicked the man standing in front of him out of his house.
Sadly, that action would piss off the three people in Bruce’s life he tried (and failed) the hardest not to piss off. So, he was unable to do anything but glare as Alfred and Percy’s father had some conversation that he understood none of.
“How much Nectar did you administer?” The man asked as Alfred plugged the monitor into the outlet beside Percy’s bed.
“Two and a half vials. It took one to stop the bleeding, one to repair the tibia, and the half is to repair as much tissue as possible. I was hesitant to give him any more, and this gives us a buffer of one vial in case the wound reopens or the wounds in his lungs flare.”
It sounded like whatever this 'nectar’ was had healing properties, but they were limited by how much they could use. And, it was used to treat Percy’s lungs.
Is that what was in the vial Percy had given him? He did say it was dangerous…
“And why did you not just place him into a body of water? Healing him through water is safer and more stable, and I can sense at least 3 bodies of water within two miles.”
Interesting. The manor wasn’t connected to the ocean, but it was over an underground river, and there was a lake on the property. It wouldn't surprise Bruce if there were more underground bodies of water, but he’d only encountered the one when planning the cave.
He would like to know how Percy’s father knew that. As far as he knew, neither Aquaman or Aqualad could sense water that wasn’t within 500 feet or so. Especially freshwater. And they certainly couldn’t be healed simply by being in water. So why were they saying Percy could? Was it something specific to his father’s role as head of the church? And if that was the case, why was Percy covered in so many scars?
“The condition of the water isn’t sanitary enough. All bodies of water in Gotham are so polluted that I fear that the costs would outweigh the benefits.”
The man glowered, and Bruce could see the water in the tank beside the bed pulse.
“Master Bruce is having a saltwater pool installed,” Alfred said.
Percy’s father turned to Bruce, the look on his face implying that he’d forgotten he was there.
“I suppose you are capable of doing something right after all.”
Over the man’s shoulder, Bruce could see Alfred’s brow pinch as indignation swirled in his chest. Before he could respond, voices sounded in the hall behind them.
“So by this point, Annabeth and Clarisse had teamed up to hunt Travis down, and the guy was fearing for his life. So, he had the bright idea to climb to the top of the rock climbing wall, and unclipping all the harnesses from the top so that in theory no one could follow him.” Percy was saying, amusement and exasperation clear in his voice.
It took Bruce a minute to work out that he must have been talking about something that happened at the summer camp he went to.
“He didn’t quite realise that Annabeth had been climbing that wall since she was seven, and could probably do it blindfolded, so she just went up anyway.”
Percy, Jason, and Dick walked in through the doorway of Percy’s room together. Or, well, Jason and Dick walked, while Jason gave Percy a piggy back. Dick and Jason were both laughing, although Dick had the face he had when one of his siblings had done something irresponsible and he was trying to lecture them, but also really funny.
“Is there no adult supervision at this camp?” Dick asked.
Percy shrugged.
“It's pretty much just Mr Brunner and Mr D. Mr Brunner does his best to keep us in line, but it’s one man against 100 plus adhd teenagers.”
“And Mr D?” Dick asked.
Percy shrugged.
“He couldn’t care less as long as no one dies. Sometimes he encourages the chaos as long as he finds it entertaining enough.”
That was… concerning. For one thing, a camp with over a hundred kids had to have at five staff members for it to be legal, and for another it didn’t sound like this Mr D had the kids’ best interests at heart.
“Do I need to have a word with my Nephew about actually doing his job?” Percy’s father asked, sounding vaguely amused, and nowhere near as concerned as he should be by that statement.
Percy just laughed.
“Like he’d listen to you.”
The context clues were implying that the nephew was the man referred to as Mr D. Was that part of the reasons Sally had pushed so hard for Percy to attend this camp? And if so, why didn’t she just say that?
Based on what Alfred said the night Bruce first found out about Percy’s abilities, Sally had known who Percy’s father was.
Why hadn’t she told Bruce? Why lie and say he was lost at sea, then cover up a potential family connection? Bruce knew that he could be a bit… intense with his need for information, but if she had just explained the Atlantean Laws to him, he would have let it go. She didn’t need to lie to him for seventeen years.
“Wait, so if he’s your nephew…” Jason said trailing off, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. When he didn't finish his sentence, Percy prompted.
“Here’s a hint, he wears a lot of leopard print and would have a field day with this family.”
Comprehension dawned on Jason’s face.
“Oh! Him! Wait. Why on earth is he in charge of a summer camp for kids? Wouldn’t literally anyone else be better?”
Percy snorted.
“Believe me, he’s not there willingly.”
Bruce… did not know what was going on. Or, more accurately, he had an idea of what was going on, but didn't want it to be true.
Why would Jason know Percy’s family members, but not Bruce? It didn’t make sense.
Unless. Unless Percy had told Jason. But that would mean he had lied to Bruce when he said he wasn’t allowed to tell him anything. That Percy had been able to tell Bruce the entire time, but just chose not to, chose to watch him scramble for information, then lie about it.
He never thought Percy would do something like that to him, but the evidence wasn’t looking good.
And, now that Bruce was thinking about it, Alfred knew things. He seemed to know far more about Percy than anyone else, had known he was half Atlantean when he was born, knew how their magic medicine worked. Alfred wasn’t Atlantean, Bruce knew that. He had lived with the man his entire life, if he were, he would know.
But Alfred knew things that he couldn’t know.
Not unless Percy had been lying to Bruce from the beginning.
Bruce clenched his fist, slipping his hand into his pocket to disguise the motion.
The conversation he had had with Percy’s father in the warehouse flashed through his mind. The man’s words had made it sound less like Bruce didn't know things because he wasn’t Atlantean, but because he wasn't important enough for a Percy to tell him.
“—aster Bruce?”
Bruce was pulled out of his thoughts by Alfred’s voice. While he was spiraling, Percy had gotten on the bed and hooked up to the monitor, his heart rate beeping steadily on the screen. GPS the octopus was curled around his shoulders, staring at his father in what he could only describe as awe.
“What?”
Alfred raised an eyebrow, but repeated what he’d said.
“I think it would be a wise idea for you to call Miss Sally and inform her about what happened.”
Bruce knew it was just an excuse to get him out of the room, but he wasn’t going to argue. He didn’t think he could stand being in there much longer.
One more look at that smug bastard’s face and Bruce may just ruin his relationship with Percy altogether.
Although, clearly their relationship wasn’t as significant as Bruce thought. Never mind the fact that Bruce raised him and considered him his son.
Bruce just nodded and exited the room, not looking at Percy.
His feet carried him to the cave without him directing them, and before long he was in the lab, the vial of Percy’s medication open in front of him.
He could get answers. Some at least. He had all the equipment, and he had a sample. Something about the whole Atlantean story didn’t sit right with him, hadn’t from the start, but he trusted Percy not to outright lie to him. Not about something this important.
Clearly his trust was misplaced.
Percy had claimed it was Atlantean magic. A few simple tests could either prove or disprove that statement in a few hours.
It was only one lie out of many, but it was a start.
Bruce walked over the the computer in the lab, inputting the test details and setting it so the results would go straight to his private files. He didn’t want his kids to find out about this. A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Dick, Jason, and Alfred simultaneously pointed out that that was probably a sign that he shouldn’t do it.
He ignored that voice, and pulled out a test tube, microscope slide and Petri dish and placed them on the counter.
Bruce picked up the uncapped vial of medication, staring at it for a moment.
This was it. This was how he’d get answers.
But then, the voice in the back of his head got louder and more insistent, practically screaming at him to stop. His mind flashed to Percy’s nervous but almost hopeful face as he handed over the vial. The way he’d made Bruce promise not to open it.
The conversation they’d had about everything that had been going on, that ended up with Percy crying in his arms, exhausted from the pressure placed on him.
That had been real. Bruce couldn't doubt that. No matter what else, those emotions, the frustration and exhaustion had been real.
The tentative trust he had placed in Bruce by giving him the vial had been real.
But, it didn’t make sense. Not with what Bruce had seen today.
“You only see what you want to see Bruce,” Jason said in his memory.
Was Bruce really going to break the one significant promise he’d made to his son, just because he was feeling… what, insecure? Because he thought that Percy might be lying to him, based purely on circumstantial evidence?
Bruce liked to think he was better than that. Some days he probably wasn't. But he could try to be.
He reached for the uncapped vial, fingers curling around it.
As he went to pick it up, the slick glass slipped from his fingers, landing back against the counter with an eerie chime.
Bruce watched in horror as the golden liquid spilled out across the metal table, unable to stop it.
He froze for a second, before frantically looking around for something to collect the medication. On the shelf behind him was a scalpel, and Bruce thought that maybe he could use that to scrape the liquid into the vial, so he grabbed it as fast as he could.
But when he turned around, the medication was gone.