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Sally is nineteen when she meets Poseidon.
She is instantly taken with him, even knowing what he is—because you don't spend your life being raised in a cult that has dubious magic without learning at least a little about the creatures that exist in the world—and it soon becomes clear that he is similarly infatuated with her.
She spends a blissful two weeks with him, on the beach where she killed her latest target, before she leaves. And when she does, it becomes stunningly clear that she can't go back to the League.
“I'm pregnant, Talia,” she whispers over the phone. “You know how Father treats children. I don't want my baby raised there.”
Talia hesitates, but Sally has faith in her sister.
“I will help you,” Talia says finally. “I will attempt to shield you and the child. But Sally—”
“Yes,” Sally says. “I know.”
And she does know.
It is extremely dangerous, what she is doing, especially as the second daughter of the Demon's Head. But she knows deep in her gut that staying there, that letting her baby be raised in the League would be so much worse.
Talia sighs. “Sometimes I think you're crazy,” she says dryly. Sally laughs.
“You'll visit, of course,” Sally says, rubbing her stomach. “My son will have his Aunt Talia in his life.”
“It's been less than a month,” Talia says. “How could you possibly know the gender?”
Sally shrugs, even knowing that Talia can't see her. “Just a feeling,” she replies. “I just…know.”
“I really don't understand you sometimes,” Talia sighs again. Sally smiles.
“I have to go,” she says. “Thank you, sister.”
“Of course.”
The call disconnects, and within a week, Sally al Ghul ceases to exist. Sally Jackson, however, finds a small apartment in New York, applies for a job at a library, and starts looking into various schoolings.
Talia visits periodically, when she is able to get away. It is not nearly as often as either of them would like, but it is better than nothing at all.
The months pass and the fetus grows and Sally settles into her new life. She picks up writing on the side, a hobby that she was never able to nurture back at the League. She buys clothes and paints a room and becomes used to normality, although she never loses the edge of her paranoia and, even while heavily pregnant, trains as much as possible.
And then her water breaks.
She is alone in the hospital, Talia unable to leave her duties in the League, but Sally doesn’t fault her for that. Especially not when her little baby boy is deposited in her arms. She cradles him close to her chest, an exhausted smile on her face.
“Do you have a name for him?” a nurse asks kindly.
“Perseus,” Sally says with finality. “Perseus Jackson.”
Dick is concentrated on his phone when he bumps into someone.
“Shit, I am so sorry,” he says, extending a hand to the person on the ground. He looks up, and Dick’s mouth suddenly goes dry, all words flying out of his brain. Messy black hair falls onto a tanned forehead, showing off piercing green eyes.
“Don’t sweat it,” he assures Dick, a strong hand clasping Dick’s own. “These things happen, right?”
Dick blinks himself back down to reality. “Right, yeah,” he says sheepishly. The man still hasn’t let go of his hand. Dick’s not inclined to let him know anytime soon. “I’m still sorry, though.”
“No worries,” the man says, aiming a crooked grin towards Dick. “I’m Percy, by the way. I’d offer to shake your hand, but…” He looks down at their still-joined hands with an amused smile. Dick flushes, letting go.
“Dick,” he says back.
Percy raises an eyebrow, and Dick rolls his eyes.
“Don’t ask,” he sighs, and Percy laughs and Dick might have a problem. “Do you want to get some coffee?” he blurts out.
“Right now?” Percy clarifies. Dick nods. “Like…a date?”
Dick gives a little half-shrug. “If you want it to be,” he says casually.
Percy grins. “I’d love to,” he declares. “Ah—I don’t really know any good places, I’m just visiting—”
Dick laughs. “I’ve got you covered,” he assures. Tentatively, he holds his hand back out. Percy takes it with a smile.
“Lead the way, then,” Percy says.
Dick complies with a smile of his own.
“That’s a lot of siblings,” Percy laughs, eyes crinkling. Dick laughs as well, sipping a bit of his latte as he leans forward over the table.
“My dad has a bit of an adoption problem,” he jokes. “His only biological kid is the youngest.”
“Sounds kind of like Bruce Wayne,” Percy says, tone taking a teasing lilt. When Dick says nothing, merely grins a little ruefully, Percy’s mouth falls open. “No. No way.”
“I guess now’s a good time for a full introduction? Richard Grayson-Wayne, but please, I am begging you to call me Dick.”
“Kinky,” Percy says. He immediately looks a little abashed, like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but Dick laughs before he can apologize.
“So—do I get a full name?” He’s teasing, of course, but Percy grins and concedes.
“Perseus Jackson,” he says. “Please don’t call me Perseus, though. I’m only full-named by my aunt and people who are trying to kill me.”
Dick raises an eyebrow. Percy’s obviously going for a joking tone, but Dick sees through it. He lets it pass, though, in favor of prodding him a little more.
“Your aunt?” he asks. He wonders what Percy’s family is like.
“Yeah,” Percy says. “Aunt Talia. She’s amazing.”
Dick learns a little more about Percy’s family—how he was raised by his mom, his aunt dropping by when she could find the time, how he’d gone to multiple different schools. How he met his dad when he was twelve, and while they’re not exactly the closest, his dad loves him and tries his best even when circumstances dictate they really can’t see each other that often.
“Why not?” Dick wonders. Then he sees Percy’s expression and quickly says, “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“The same goes for you, then,” Percy says with a smile.
The rest of the date goes wonderfully, and at the end, they exchange numbers.
“I’ll text you tonight?” Percy says, rising into a question. Dick nods, a light blush creeping up on his neck.
“I’ll look forward to it,” he says, and with a boldness he’s not entirely sure he feels, leans forward and kisses Percy’s cheek. “Talk soon, then.” He leaves, and behind him Percy raises a hand to his face where Dick had kissed him, looking stunned. Dick bites back a smug smile as he hurries away.
Percy could laugh.
He nearly does, but he figures that’s probably not the best idea when he’s about to get mugged. He’s backed against a dirty alley wall, a mortal woman holding a gun to his stomach. He raises his arms in a peaceful gesture.
“There’s no need for the gun,” he tries, but she slams it into his stomach and he doubles over, wheezing.
“Quiet,” she hisses, her eyes darting around nervously. Beads of sweat drip down her forehead. “Give me your wallet and you don’t have to get hurt.”
Percy clutches his stomach, looking up at her with disbelief.
“More hurt than you already are,” she amends.
“I don’t have any money,” Percy says, and it’s not a lie. He’s a broke college student. He’s not exactly rich.
“Liar,” she says sharply. “Wallet. Now.”
“Look, lady—”
Percy’s interrupted by the woman colliding with the floor. He looks up to see Nightwing standing there, the sunset framing his figure like a halo. His hands are clenched around his escrima, his shoulders tensed.
“Are you alright?” he asks Percy, ignoring the groaning lump on the floor. Percy’s mouth goes dry.
“I—yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”
Nightwing frowns, looking down at where Percy’s still holding his stomach. Percy gives him a weak smile.
“Are you sure?”
His voice is so, so familiar. His hair is messy and dark and his skin is toned the same way that—oh. Oh.
Percy flicks his eyes down, noting the muscles in the legs and the toned arms.
“I’m sure,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “You should, uh.” He looks at the woman. Nightwing blows out a breath.
“Don’t walk around alone at night,” he cautions, walking over to the woman and crouching. He takes something out of—somewhere (does he have hidden pockets?) and binds her legs and arms with zip-ties.
“Smart,” Percy says, leaning over him. “Those are a pain in the ass to get out of.”
“...Do you have experience with getting out of zip-ties?” Nightwing asks, a sort of reluctant curiosity in his voice. Percy smirks at him.
“I plead the fifth,” he breathes into Nightwing’s ear. He’s close enough to the other man that he’s able to feel the shiver that runs down his spine. “Thanks for the save.”
“No problem,” Nightwing says faintly as Percy smoothly straightens and exits the alley. Fuck him. Annabeth isn’t going to believe this.
Percy is on cloud nine.
He’s not had a quest in ages, the gods have mostly calmed down, he has a really hot, really sweet boyfriend, and he gets to see Damian in a few hours.
“Excited?” his mom teases, ruffling his hair. Percy can’t even bring himself to be annoyed.
“Yeah,” he says, “yeah, I am.”
“I’m sure Talia will be impressed by your skill with Riptide,” Sally says off-handedly. Percy shrugs.
“Are we telling them?”
“Only if you want to, sweetheart,” she says. “I’m going to go check on the cookies.”
Percy can hardly wait. And—here’s the thing—he hasn’t told Damian that he’s dating his brother. Richard Grayson-Wayne, Bruce Wayne’s eldest, Damian’s oldest brother. And Percy is like ninety percent sure that Dick’s Nightwing, but he won’t bring it up until he’s sure.
Though, he thinks a few hours later, standing outside the large gate, he knows for a fact that Bruce is Batman—Talia settles for nothing less than the best, after all, and though Damian never talks about it outright, even from the small, blurry glimpses Percy sees in pictures, there’s no mistaking his cousin’s spiky hair, hidden under a hood as it is. After that, it’s really just matching the kid with the right vigilante—Percy’d been torn between Nightwing and Red Hood for Dick, but it’s really kind of obvious in hindsight. It was willful denial, wanting at least someone he knows to have a normal life; but maybe it’s better like this.
They’d understand each other better, know when an emergency calls that it’s really not their fault—Percy has been with Dick for three months now. They fit, in a way he never has with anymore before—not Rachel, not Annabeth.
Anyway.
Technically, he’s here as Dick’s date. Apparently the family had been wanting to meet him, so Dick had brought it up, nervous and very, very expressive about how he could turn it down, but—yeah, no, obviously he said yes.
So here he is, a few hours after his mom had left to pick up Estelle from school, standing outside the large gate. It opens without him saying a word, so Dick must have described him to Alfred, and Percy is able to get through with no problem.
He still rings the doorbell at the front doors, though. He’s nervous, okay, sue him.
The door opens, and Percy is greeted with a polite smile.
“Mister Jackson,” greets the man who must be Alfred. “Please, come in.”
“Thanks,” Percy says, stepping inside. “And, uh, just call me Percy.”
Alfred inclines his head, but Percy’s pretty sure it’s just for show and he’s nowhere near a first-name basis with the butler.
Alfred leads him to a sitting room where Dick is mediating between two of his brothers (most likely Tim and Jason), and though he scans the room, he doesn’t see Damian. The disappointment doesn’t last long, though, because Dick turns around and the second he sees Percy he lights up with the most beautiful smile.
He vaults over the couch, enveloping Percy in his arms and pressing his face into Percy’s shoulder. Percy laughs lightly, hugging back and dropping a kiss on Dick’s hair.
“Missed you too,” he murmurs, and he can feel Dick smile against his shoulder.
Someone clears their throat and Percy looks up, a light dusting of red on his cheeks as he grins.
“Um, hi. I'm Percy. Dick's boyfriend.”
Something shatters on the ground behind him and everyone turns to see Damian, a few pieces of glass sticking into his palm, the rest of the cup he'd been holding shattered on the ground.
“You’re what?” he hisses, taking a step closer.
Dick's brow pinches and he steps forward, his arm pressed against Percy’s as he raises his arms.
“I got this,” Percy whispers before Dick can do anything. Turning to Damian, a wide grin etches itself on his face. “Hiya, cuz! Been a while!”
He feels Dick freeze, hears someone choke. It only makes him grin harder.
“Sorry?” Dick asks, strained.
Damian narrows his eyes, glancing between Percy and Dick. “You are Richard’s paramour?”
“Yep.” Percy tightens his grip on Dick’s hand, barely able to hold back the laugh.
“Tt. Richard,” Damian says, “you have terrible taste.”
Dick is still too stunned to react, but Percy lets out a loud protest, dropping Dick’s hand and crossing the short distance between him and his cousin easily, catching him in a headlock.
“Take it back,” he threatens, digging his knuckles into Damian’s head.
“No,” Damian says, and throws his elbow into Percy’s gut. Percy rolls, swiping Damian’s legs out from underneath, and pins him down. “Get off!”
“Not until you admit that I’m a total catch,” Percy teases, wiggling his fingers threateningly. Damian’s eyes lock onto his hand and he pales.
“You would not.”
“Would.”
Before Damian can spit out a retort, Dick is there, separating them with gentle hands.
“Easy, both of you,” he chides. “Percy, explain, please?”
Percy rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “So, uh, Damian and I are sort of maybe cousins? Our moms are sisters. I was raised in New York, though,” he’s quick to assure. “Mom didn’t think the League would be a good place for a child, so she ditched. Kept in touch with Aunt Talia, though, so.”
“Did you know?” Dick asks after a moment, and there’s only one thing he can really mean by that.
“Sort of?” Percy says, sighing. He glances at the array of people—the brothers, and Bruce had joined at some point. He tugs Dick’s hand lightly, wrapping an arm around Damian and leading them both to the couch to sit. “I suspected, but I didn’t want to think about it, so I…didn’t.”
“You didn’t think about it,” Dick echoes, amusement, incredulity, and a fond sort of exasperation mixing across his face. “Christ, Percy.”
“He has always been an idiot,” Damian says sagely. Percy pinches his thigh.
“Cousins,” Dick says. “And you never told me.” And here, his voice twinges with hurt, and Percy lets go of Damian to cup Dick’s cheeks in his hands.
“Hey, hey,” he says lowly, pressing his forehead to Dick’s. “That was on me, okay? I just didn’t want you to—to think differently of me, if you knew about the—it was stupid, I know, I just—I really didn’t mean to lie to you—”
Dick’s hands come up to grasp Percy’s, and they squeeze, and Percy shuts up.
“I—I’m still a little hurt that you didn’t tell me, but I guess—as long as you’re not hiding anything else,” Dick says, jokingly. His face falls when Percy remains silent, gaze darting away from Dick’s eyes. “Percy—”
“That,” Percy says, “is a long story. One that I’d rather tell you in private. Please?”
Dick says nothing for a moment, and it’s like the universe itself has hushed to hear his answer. Finally, he says, simply, “Okay.” He lets go of Percy’s hands, snaking an arm around Percy’s waist and holding him close. He turns to his family, then, and Percy is worried, because this is a betrayal, of sorts, and gods but he’s scared of what Dick’s reaction will be when he learns about the rest of Percy's parentage, but Dick is wonderful and incredible and all he says is, “This is my boyfriend, Percy Jackson,” and all of Percy’s worries fall away. (Percy had introduced himself earlier, yes, but that was before Bruce had entered the room, and somehow Dick always knows what to say to make Percy feel better, and this—this helps.)
“Hey,” Percy says with a small wave.
“That’s Tim, and Jason, and Bruce,” says Dick, pointing to each in turn. “And you already know Damian. Obviously.”
“Right,” Percy says with a nod. “Nice to meet you all.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Bruce says, not quite smiling but not unkind. “Dick has been very happy since he’s met you.”
“Bruce,” Dick hisses, a flush of red climbing up his neck. Percy loves him. Percy loves this man so much.
“I’m glad,” he says, meeting Bruce’s eyes and trying to imbue his gaze with as much sincerity as he can. “He deserves to be happy.”
“Oh my god,” Dick says, letting go of Percy to cover his face with his hands. His words come out muffled, and he’s so pretty with that red fanning across his cheeks that Percy wants to kiss him silly right here and now. “Stop it, oh my god.”
“Why?” Percy circles Dick’s wrists lightly with his fingers, drawing them away from his face. “You do deserve it.”
“Percy…”
Percy brushes some hair out of Dick’s face, tucking it behind his ear.
“Gross,” Jason says flatly. “Can I go now?”
The meal goes surprisingly smoothly, Dick introducing Steph and Duke when they pop up. Percy thinks he makes a good first impression (he hopes he did, at least), and before he knows it Dick is leading him upstairs.
“Okay,” Dick says once they’re both sitting on the bed. Percy takes in the room; it’s similar to his apartment, in that there’s pictures of his family scattered around, but the apartment just feels more Dick. “So?”
“So.” Percy exhales. “I really didn't mean to hide it, I just…I dunno. Didn't want you to see me differently.”
“Why would I see you differently?” Dick lays a hand on Percy's and squeezes.
“My mom, she left before I was born, but she still taught me things. I…I’ve done things…” Percy shakes his head with a huff. “You'd think that was my biggest secret.”
“You can trust me,” Dick says quietly.
“I know. It's not that, it's…I don't really know how to…” Percy trails off. “Jesus, how do I say this. Um. So my dad's a god.” He stares at their joined hands, not daring to look up. “Poseidon. I'm a half-blood—demigod, whatever.”
“Demigod,” Dick repeats slowly. “Like…Diana?”
“Yeah,” Percy says, unsure whether to be relieved or worried at that reaction. “Yeah, uh. Technically, we’re cousins.”
“You and your secret cousins,” Dick mutters. Percy laughs, startled. “I…okay. I'm gonna need a little more, I think.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” So Percy launches into a brief explanation of Camp, and the gods, and how it all works. Dick is quiet throughout, and when Percy chances a glance his eyes are stormy and intense and unreadable. Percy loves Dick's eyes. They're the prettiest eyes he's ever seen.
“Do you have powers?”
Percy nods. He holds out his hand and pulls the moisture from the air, something he'd worked on for months before he got even a handful. He forms a ball, then makes it a heart, then the Nightwing symbol. He lets it dissipate soon after, watching Dick nervously.
“I really don't have room to talk,” Dick says. He meets Percy's gaze. “I didn't exactly tell you about my, uh, nightlife. Just because you already knew doesn't…I’m being unfair.”
“No, hey,” Percy rushes to say. “You were trying to protect me. I was trying to protect you. And I didn't want you to think I'm a—a freak, or something.”
“You are a freak,” Dick says, with just enough of a smile that Percy is able to return. “Still. I'm sorry.”
“Then I'm sorry too. For not telling you that I'm related to Damian, if nothing else.”
Dick cups Percy's face and touches their foreheads together.
“Is it too soon to say I love you?” he murmurs against Percy's lips.
Percy's heart swells. He winds his arms around Dick's back, pulling him closer. “Absolutely not,” he says, tilting his head to brush their mouths together in a chaste kiss. “I love you too.” And then he threads a hand through Dick's hair and pulls him into a proper kiss, and whatever words and apologies that linger in the air are left forgotten.
“Hi, Mrs. Blofis,” Dick says, shaking Sally's hand. “I'm Dick. It's lovely to finally meet you.”
“Oh, call me Sally,” she says, smiling at him. It's Percy's smile, soft and warm and slightly crooked. “I'm so glad Percy finally brought you over. He can't stop talking about you, you know.”
“Mom,” Percy hisses from the couch, where he's bouncing little Estelle on his lap. A pink flush covers his cheeks.
“Only good things, I hope,” Dick jokes, aiming a smirk at his boyfriend. Percy groans and buries his face in Estelle’s dark curls.
“You won't turn on me, right, Esti?” he asks plaintively. She babbles cheerfully.
Sally laughs. That, too, is similar to Percy's. Then footsteps, and Percy's stepfather comes skidding into the room.
“Hi,” he says, a little breathless. “Sorry I'm late, the meeting ran long. Dick, right? I'm Paul. Good to meet you.”
“You too,” Dick replies.
They all move to the couch, Dick perching on the arm next to Percy while Paul and Sally take the other end. Estelle giggles as she's handed over to her mother, and Percy sighs, forlorn.
“I've been abandoned once more,” he says wistfully. Dick snickers, wrapping an arm around him.
“Keep that up and I'll start to think you have actual issues,” he says. Percy scowls at him.
“Oh, uh. Aunt Talia might drop in.” Percy glances at Sally and rubs the back of his neck. “Just letting you know.”
“I figured,” Sally says, amused. “I made enough for us plus a few more, just in case.”
“You're the best,” Percy says with a sigh, this one real. Dick rubs circles through his shirt. Percy smiles at him gratefully. “I know you've technically met her already, but not as my aunt, so…”
“So prepare to be intimidated,” Dick supplies. “Gotcha.” It can’t be that much worse than watching her and Bruce flirt, right?
They make it almost half an hour before the door opens, and in that time Dick comes to see where Percy gets not just his smile and laugh, but his warmth and kindness and large heart. Sally is incredible, and Paul is wonderful, and Dick seems to meet their expectations which is a relief, because he intends to keep this—keep Percy— for a long, long time.
“Aunt Talia,” Percy says when he opens the door, a wide grin splitting his face. Damian slips around him, nodding at Dick before going over to Sally.
“Hello, Perseus,” Talia says fondly. She ruffles his hair lightly as they both find spots on the couch.
“Damian,” Sally says, hugging him. “How are you? How have you been?”
“I am well, Aunt Sally,” Damian says. Dick bites down a coo. “Richard.”
“Hey, Dames,” Dick replies, lacing his fingers through Percy's. “Talia.”
“Richard,” Talia greets, nodding at him, which is—more than he'd expected, honestly. Dinner passes surprisingly painlessly. Stories are swapped—some about Percy, some about Damian, both of which embarrass the subjects.
Percy blushes beautifully, Dick thinks, admiring that red flush that spreads across his cheeks.
Dessert is, inexplicably, blue cookies.
“I've heard stories about these cookies,” he tells Sally, taking one. Sally laughs and Percy grins, pleased. Dick takes a bite, and—yeah. Wow. Those are incredible. He tells Sally as much, and she responds with a slightly embarrassed laugh.
“That went well,” Percy says later. They're in his bedroom, Dick's head in Percy's lap. “Way too well, actually.”
“Perce,” Dick laughs. “C'mon.”
“Sorry.” But Percy's smiling, soft and loving, and he kisses Dick's forehead. “I love you, y'know that?”
Warmth spreads through Dick's chest. “Love you too.”