Chapter Text
dick grayson (nightwing, first robin, first child of the bat)
(Dick - he can't call himself who and what he is right now, he can't, he isn't ready to go back to where he comes from - makes his excuses and leaves. He's been followed for a long time, in his mind, and it's time he finally faces down his demons. Especially if that demon is who he thinks it is.)
(The scent of sea salt and blood has trailed him for a month now.)
He meanders down to the Batburger Café between Fourth Street and Cauldron Road, orders a coffee for himself, and sets his things down outside after getting it. The cold brew is bitter in his mouth, even with the caramel syrup overpowering it. There's a part of him that hazily wishes for something a little stronger than coffee to get through the conversation coming for him. A breeze blows through the street, the scent of sea salt heavy in the air. He knows he's the only one that can smell the coppery scent of blood on it, too, and stiffens.
"... Hey, A." The voice is familiar, and so is the body that drops into the chair across from him. Perseus looks healthy and awake, his skin tan like it was millennia ago, and Dick blinks. His eyes are still green, green, green like the ocean that once welcomed him home, and he can feel his breath stutter. Perseus has always been so, so beautiful.
An unsteady sound escapes him as his cousin stares at him. "P. How are you?"
"I should be asking you that question," he says. The smile on his face isn't pleasant; rather, it feels like heavy ice, bearing down on him. "It wasn't your choice, but it was mine, wasn't it?"
"I don't know what you mean." A scoff. Perseus' eyes are sharp, piercing like the arrows that he once wielded and far too knowing. "Stop pretending, kiddo. You forget who I am to you. My brother's forgetting, too, but- you just remembered, didn't you."
His cousin has always been the least forgiving of all of the gods.
"Perseus," he croaks, a plead and a sob all in one, "don't- I can't, not right now." He feels all of a century again, a child surrounded by enemies in his father's court, where it had often felt like his cousin - who had given his seat for Athena - had been his only ally. He feels a century - maybe even younger, just a decade - old, far too large and yet too small for the body he's been forced into, longing for something a little bit better and larger, and Perseus has always been both. Agonizingly enough, he'd been Father's favorite, even over Athena. The way he's looked after their family longer than Dick - Apollo - has lived almost infuriates the twenty-eight-year-old Oldest Brother in him; Perseus' Disappointed Sibling Face is somehow much more effective than Dick's will ever be.
Perseus lets out a short, bitter sound. He sounds like it's a response he'd been expecting, but that he's still disappointed he got it. Dick's a little amazed at the way he can do that. He sounds angry when he speaks, exasperated and tired, and it almost makes Dick feel guilty about his shortness. "If not now, Aguieus, then when? You haven't come home yet-"
"That mountain isn't my home," Dick refutes, "not anymore, and you know it." There's a long beat, where neither of them say anything at all. The world feels like it's slowing, and knowing Perseus it probably is. Fucker's always been protective of Apollo, specifically. (The sun will always be welcomed back into the ocean when it tires, says a half-remembered memory from thousands of years ago, and Apollo is so, so tired of pretending he hasn't missed his cousin.) "I'd hate to do it here, you always did win our spars." There's a half-smile in his voice; he can feel it tugging at his lips. (Spar with me, teach me, he remembers begging Perseus back when they were young, remembers running wild and free in the fields of Greece as youths too alive for their own good, remembers the way Perseus had been indulgent and loving and taught him with a steady hand, so like Bruce in this life.)
"I'm older than you, of course I did." He smirks at him, a silent challenge. The tension breaks around them like a shattering heart, and Dick relaxes into it, returning his smile.
"You're still horrible, Perseus."
"I've never wanted to grow up in my life." The lie is clear between them.
Dick stares at him. "Kolomálakas," he deadpans, raising his coffee in salute and not even blinking when Perseus steals it and takes a long sip.
jason todd (red hood, second robin, second child of the bat)
Jason and Tim, in unison, narrow their eyes. Their brother is across the street and he looks normal, if not a little tenser than usual. He's waiting for someone, they think in unison, before Jason turns to him. "You wanna spy on him?"
"Thought you'd never ask," Tim says, smiling wickedly. He slips into the bathroom of the cafe behind them, coming out with windswept hair and Jason's jacket on.
"When the hell did you get that-?!"
Tim winks, putting a finger to Jason's lips. Infuriating little shit. "Don't ask the questions you don't want the answers to, Jay."
He scoffs, somehow fond of the bastard. "Dumbass."
Across the street, Dick stiffens. They do the same, eyes snapping across. There's a guy slipping into the seat in front of him, a thermos already on the table. His hair matches Dick's, just as windswept and just as dark. They can see his grin, and Dick tenses even more. Tim offers him an earplug. "R, what-"
When Jason puts it in his ear, he can hear everything that's going on across the street. He shoots a look at the Replacement. Does this brat have all of us bugged?! From the smiek Tim shoots him, the answer is probably yes, yes he does. Terrifying, snoopy little shit. The first thing that crackles through the earphone is an unfamiliar voice. "... Hey, A."
Dick responds as naturally as breathing, sounding... some kind of unfamiliar. Like there's another layer to his voice, but that makes no sense. "P. How are you?"
"I should be asking you that question. It wasn't your choice, but it was mine, wasn't it?"
"I don't know what you mean." A scoff. "Stop pretending, kiddo. You forget who I am to you. My brother's forgetting, too, but- you just remembered, didn't you."
Jason can see his brother's shoulders shake - can hear his voice break on a plead in his earphone - and he wants to tear across the street. Sue him, he's fucking protective after Spyral and everything that had happened before and since. If this is what someone who claims to be his family will do to him, then Jason will scream and cry and fight against it witj everything he has. "Perseus," his brother croaks, and suddenly all the fight goes out of the stranger, "don't- I can't, not right now."
The stranger - Perseus? - lets out a quiet, bitter sound. "If not now, Aguieus, then when? You haven't come home yet-"
"That mountain isn't my home," Dick mutters rebelliously, "not anymore, and you know it. I'd hate to do it here." Jason blinks. It? "You always did win our spars." It looks like there's a wry twist to his mouth; he sounds tired and angry about it. Jason wants to slip across the street and ask who exactly this man is, because if he ever won against Dick - Dick, a former almost-Talon and a vigilante and once a man named Renegade - he sounds like a force to fight against, and possibly not in the good way.
"I'm older than you, of course I did."
Jason and Tim share a look. The guy sitting across Dick looks like he's twenty.
Dick sounds happy, a stark difference from just a few minutes ago. He sounds... unburdened, open in a way he never is around his brothers. The realization weighs heavy on his chest. "You're still horrible, Perseus."
"I've never wanted to grow up in my life."
"Kolomálakas," Dick deadpans. Jason's jaw drops when the Beautiful Stranger - and it is the person from the other night, he realizes when he looks a little closer - steals his coffee and takes a long, luxorious sip. Dick's never, ever let anyone steal his coffee. Not even Wally, and Wally is his literal fiancé.
The Beautiful Stranger just lets out a laugh, loud and cheerful, and relaxes into his seat.H e glances across the street and makes eye contact with Jason. His eyes glow, a sharp, green thing.
Jason blinks, something in his ear crackling. He meets Tim's eyes.
... Were they doing something? He can't remember.