Chapter Text
When Percy wakes up, she knows three things.
1. She is not supposed to be here
2. Her name is Percy
3. She desperately needs to find someone named Annabeth.
It’s a weird feeling, to understand that she should be somewhere else, but not know where she is now, or where that somewhere else is.
The bed she wakes up in is lumpy, the duvet a sad grey. Looking around, she finds herself in a one-room studio apartment, not the worse place she’s lived in. Maybe.
There is a mini fridge in the corner, a low table and uneven chair over a threadbare rug and a rugged blue backpack by the door. She walks over to the table, and stuck to the stained wood is a blue post-it note with an address she doesn't recognise in what she thinks is her own handwriting.
Okay. This is fine. She is fine.
She goes to put the note in her pocket and realises she is wearing boxers and an orange t-shirt with a faded pattern she can’t quite make out.
Pants first then, after pants she can put the note in her pocket and then… and then hopefully the next part of the plan comes to her. But pants first. The only place that could conceivably fit a pair of pants is the fridge and the bag, she tries the bag.
The zip sticks a little, so Percy learns new things about herself, she is poor as dirt and shockingly buff. Inside the bag are a pair of faded jeans, which means she has completed step one. Percy gives herself a little pat on the back and pulls them on. Now pantsed she pulls the second and final thing from the bag, a dark blue jacket, which completes a step she hadn’t even thought of yet - don’t freeze to death. The jacket is actually nice, and when she reaches into her pockets there are more clues to Percy's mysterious identity. The left pocket holds a $20 bill and a small handful of silver coins that she recognises but doesn’t, the right pocket holds a pen and a key.
“This is a pen.” Percy says, and then puts it back. The fridge is not running, but it does contain a bottle of water which is…weirdly alluring to her, maybe the tap water here sucks so bad not even amnesia can wipe it from her mind. Percy puts the bottle in her bag, and decides the address is the next logical step in figuring out what on earth is going on.
‘Look at me Annabeth’ she thinks, ‘being logical and all that.’
It is harder than first thought to navigate, whatever caused her memory loss also wiped out any subconscious knowledge of the city layout. Or maybe she just sucks at navigating. She did gather that the city she is in is either called Wayne or Gotham, based on the number of buildings she walks passed bearing those names and whoever designed it was a big fan of gargoyles. Percy was a little offended on someone’s behalf, but she doesn’t know whose.
The hunt for the address leads her through hostile streets with hostile people. Most of them ignore her, but they are all dressed in muted colours, and her orange shirt feels dangerous all of a sudden. With how she’d started playing a fun game she had named ‘how many people do I pass aren’t holding some sort of weapon.’ and with how she had currently reached ‘2’ petting the dog was a poor choice on Percy's part.
It was a skrungly thing, but didn’t growl when she approached, which gave her hope, that hope was dashed when it nipped her outstretched hand, teeth sinking into the flesh of her palm.
And nothing happens, its teeth bounce off without breaking skin. The dog looks as confused as Percy feels, and runs away with a whine, Percy examines her hand. The skin is soft, she digs blunt nails down and it gives but doesn’t break.
‘Don’t panic’, she thinks, ‘I bet everyone here is indestructible.’ They probably aren’t, this is probably a big deal. Percy ends up at the docks.
Despite the water being a worrying brown, and despite the fact she should probably be working on a solution to this whole memory problem, Percy sits on the bottom step and trails her fingers through the water. That feeling is still there, a thrumming under her skin, her apparently unbreakable skin.
“What the fuck is happening?” She mutters to a floating condom, she doesn’t expect it to respond.
“My Lord?”
The voice is scratching, sick, hearing it makes Percy flinch, and not just because shes alone and hearing voices is probably not a point to her being sane.
“I’m a girl.” She tells the waves.
“It’s you! My Lor-Lady, where have you been?”
And now that it's spoken a little more, Percy can pinpoint where it is coming from, not the waves, and not the used condom, but a fish, poking its head out of the water in a way she does not think fish should be doing.
“You don’t look so great,” she tells the fish, so perhaps she is insane, well, in for a penny and all that. It’s true, its scales are weirdly patchy, pale and cracked.
“My Lady is kind for noticing, but you should really inform the-” It breaks off in a strange choking sound,
“I can not speak of it, there are strong Magicks at play, stronger than even-” A bird perching on a post squarks, and the fish cuts itself off again. Percy had first thought the bird was a seagull based on the colouring, but closer examination shows it is smaller and various shades of brown.
“It’s okay if you can’t talk about it,” Percy says, even though she really, really wants the fish to talk about it. “Can I help you? No offence but…”
“A blessing? From the princess?” The fish sounds delighted, “If it is your wish to heal me, I would most gratefully accept.”
“Okay. How do I do that?”
“Does the princess not remember?”
She laughs slightly, the situation is so absurd, the entire morning has been so incredibly absurd. “The Princess doesn’t remember anything.”
“It is in your blood.” The fish tells her seriously, “Even if you can not remember you can feel, you are from the sea, surely the princess can Feel.”
And well, maybe she can, Percy closes her eyes, ignores the strange bird and the weird wrongness in her body and focuses on the thrum, on the fish and the water surrounding it. She can feel the water bottle in her backpack, a beacon compared to the filth of the harbour. It feels rotten, stuck. The fish is a steady beat in the swirling chaos and she zeros in on it, on the slimy feeling digging into her chest and imagins the fish clean, healthy. Percy isn’t entirely sure what that looks like for a fish, so she focuses on vibes, on her want to repay this fish for the clues, however small they are. On the warm feeling that she now knows that out there - somewhere - Annabeth is looking for her.
Percy opens her eyes, her hands are now fully in the water, brushing the fish's scales, it doesn’t look any different.
“Sorry, I thought that would work.”
“Oh it did Lady”, Its voice does sound a little clearer, a little less like it's on the verge of death.
“Without the truth, it will be difficult for you, you must learn again. Do not lose hope Princess, they will find you.” The fish gives a little fishy bow and disappears beneath the surface. Percy blinks. On the post the bird preans itself, Percy decides to find the address.
She is led to a warehouse, the door broken open. Inside she can hear the sounds of fighting, intermittently, there are gunshots. Carefully, Percy pulls herself through a broken window, and crouches behind a crate to assess the situation.
Three figures, men by the looks of it and how deep their voices are but she isn’t one to judge. Two seem to be fighting, a large, hulking man with a red helmet is the one with the gun, pointing it at a comically small child in comically bright colours with a comically large sword. And this is coming from someone who apparently wears nothing but bright orange.
The third guy, tall and slender and moving in a way Percy doesn’t think should be possible is trying to break the fight up, mostly unsuccessfully. There is a lot of yelling.
Percy isn’t entirely sure what she is supposed to do, does she know one of these people? Is she backup? The masks and bright colours make them seem a little silly, but Percy apparently knows something about fighting because she can tell they are all good. None of them are aiming to kill, even if the gun and the blades make it seem unlikely.
Percy is about to announce herself just to see what would happen when there is a sickening shunk, and Small Guy's blade sinks into Helmet Guy's side. He staggers back and the kid seems to want to press the advantage when tall guy blocks his way with a soft “Robin.”
Small Guy, ‘Robin’ apparently, stops, “I didn’t hit anything vital.” He says, a little uncertainly.
“And there it is,” Helmet Guy groans from the ground, “Don’t worry Dickwad, I’m not vital.”
“That’s not what he meant. Come on Jay.” And there is a pleading note in his voice now, “At least long enough to get you medical attention.”
“If that fucker wants to talk he can do it himself.” This causes Robin to start forward, blade raising from where he’s been resting it, tip facing the floor.
“Do not sully fathers name with -”
A shot rings out, Percy can’t follow the trajectory but none seems hit. “The next one goes through your eyes demon.”
Tall Guy, who still doesn’t have a name because Percy would feel bad referring to him as Dickwad, appears to decide this is a losing battle.
“B keeps the medical supplies in the same place.”
“You’re inviting him home? After everything he has done to Father?”
“Everything I’ve done to him? You know what, fuck you and fuck your help. Tell Batman to stay out of my terf, before I do to his new Robin what I did to his last one.”
That appears to have hit a nerve, because Percy blinks and they’re gone, leaving Jay on the floor, clutching his side.
It doesn’t take long for Percy to decide to help him. A small, selfish part of her thinks that maybe he knows her, or Annabeth, maybe he can help, but mostly she’s worried about this guy dying.
“I mean it, Dick.” He murmurs as Percy crouches by the body, removing the helmet to check his breathing, and then turning him over to examine the wound. “Next ones ‘tween your eyes.”
“You really need to come up with better nicknames.”
Jay opens one eye, “Who are you?”
And oh, that hurts. No time to worry though, he had clearly been underplaying how severe the wound was in front of his… brothers? Maybe? Percy reaches for her backpack and Jay flinches. “Relax, look, just water.”
She uncaps the top, pouring water over the wound and praying that this will work, and that her healing isn’t constrained to aquatic creatures. He watches her through bearly open eyes.
Healing Jay is different from healing the fish, despite the grossness of the water that had felt natural, easy, Jay… Jay feels like she is blundering headfirst into the domain of something powerful, something dead.
But Percy pushes forwards, ignores the feeling of wrong wrong wrong and focuses on the water. Apparently, she did not keep any previous knowledge of anatomy so like the fish, she just tries to project ‘good vibes’ onto the big stab wound. By the time she has run out of water, his side is more oozing blood than gushing, and his lung might no longer be punctured. Percy wipes her bloody hands on Jay's coat, because she only owns one pair of jeans, and waits for him to say something.
“It’s stupid for someone like you to be in Gotham.”
“What, are they like really homophobic or something?”
“No, I mean kind of but… you’re a meta.”
“I guess.”
“Batman doesn’t like metas in his city.”
“All the more reason for me to stay in your turf then.”
He sits up and starts wrapping the wound, batting her hands away when she tries to help. “Is that what you want? Protection?”
“I-” Percy pauses and makes a decision. If the other two guys are with ‘Batman’ and if Batman doesn’t like metas, and if she is apparently a meta and if this guy is important enough to oppose him, and protect her… Percy has to trust someone, otherwise, she’s going to go insane talking to fish.
“I don’t know who Batman is,” She blurts out, “And I don’t know who you are or who those guys were and I found out just now that this city is called Gotham. All I have to go on is this dumb post-it note that I think I wrote and also I’m a boy? Which doesn’t feel right but I don’t think past me knew that which is a whole problem on its own and I just really want to know what's going on.”
She stops for breath, Jay looks slightly amused but also slightly disbelieving. “Okay, what’s your name?”
“Percy?”
“And how would you like me to refer to you Percy?”
“Woman… words.”
“And how long were you watching our little fight?”
There is something dangerous in his voice, “Not long, I know your name is Jay and the other one is Robin, I don't know the other guy's name but I’ve been calling him ‘tall guy’ in my head, because he's, you know, tall.
“And I think Batman is Robin's father and also maybe your father. And if he is he really stuck to the bird theme.”
Jay smirks, “Oh you are going to be so fun. Can you just heal people with water?”
“I don’t know,” Percy is about to tell him about the dog and then the fish on the dock, but a voice in the back of her head, which she is choosing to think is Annabeth's, stops her.
‘Ah yes seaweed brain, show all your cards. That always works.’ Maybe Annabeth says, she’s right. Percy doesn’t know this person, maybe not complete trust then, maybe just a little trust.
“Can you help me?” She asks, “At least to find Annabeth.”
Jay sighs, “I have a safehouse a block from here, we can talk there.”
Percy grins, “Want a piggyback or bridal style?”