Chapter Text
“My dear,” Chiron calls out from his office, as she and Percy sit before the fire of the Big House’s sitting room, sipping idly on their hot chocolate, “Your father is on the phone. He’d like to speak with you.”
Annabeth takes a deep breath and looks to the ceiling. Percy turns toward her so fast she hears his neck crack.
She’s not an idiot. She knows exactly the picture she’s painted of Dad to her best friend. Percy’s always been under the impression that Dad’s a negligent, absent-minded academic, a cruel man who has never seen the worth in what he was gifted from above. Percy thinks Dad loves his mortal children more than he does Annabeth. And Annabeth is a horrible, horrible person, because she’s done nothing, said nothing to change Percy’s mind.
But now, he’s met Tim.
Now, Percy knows there is a place Annabeth once called home, a place full of brothers and worry and love for the baby left fourteen years ago in a golden cradle on the doorstep. He knows there is another family in this world who would drop everything to help Annabeth, to search for her and fight monsters with her, who swoop into battles with Titans and gods because they love her.
“Alright,” Annabeth says softly, setting her hot chocolate down as she stands and walks to the cramped office and picks up the landline.
No cell phones. No personal technology, so the monsters can’t trace her.
Dad hates it.
With a slightly trembling hand, Annabeth picks up the phone from where rests innocuously on the desk when Chiron left it. “Hello?”
“Annie,” Dad says immediately, his voice clipped.
He was worried.
“Hey, Dad.”
A long sigh. “Are you alright? Tim said--,”
“I’m fine.” Annabeth responds, her tone short. “They got me back. It’s fine.”
“Why didn’t Chiron call us when you went missing? It’s been a whole week, we had no idea--,”
“There’s nothing you could have done.”
A pause.
“Obviously, that’s not true, or Thalia wouldn’t have called Tim in San Francisco,” Dad finally says. Annabeth runs and agitated hand through her hair and shuts the door to Chiron’s office closed behind her.
“They needed a ride, that was it, Tim’s the one who went and got involved like he always does. My friends had it handled--,”
“I’m still your father, I deserve to know these things. You’re only fourteen.”
Annabeth’s response, that she’s already lived beyond the life expectancy of the average half-blood, dies on her lips when she recognizes the quiet desperation in Dad’s voice.
Instead, she stays silent, and Dad sighs again. “I’m picking you up tonight. Tell Chiron I’ll land the helicopter--,”
“No!” Annabeth yelps, and Dad pauses pointedly. “I just, umm--,” Annabeth scrambles, “I still need to pick some stuff up from school, and Thalia’s stuff, too, she probably didn’t go back and pack, and--,”
“Annie,” Dad says softly.
“I’ll just take a bus or something, it’s fine--,”
“Annie,” he interrupts, voice firm. “I’ll be there tomorrow morning at nine. Is the car okay?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
Annabeth takes a deep breath.
“Okay. Tomorrow at nine.”
“I--,” Dad pauses, clears his throat. “I’ll see you then.”
Annabeth stifles her sigh. “Yep. Bye, Dad.” And she hangs up the phone.
***
***
***
Annie was only four when Dick left for Bludhaven.
She remembered happy days with her older brother, lots of climbing trees and trips to the zoo, Disney movie marathons and impromptu dances in the manor’s little-used ballroom. With Annie, Dick was always smiling, always laughing and happy and free. On good days, he slung her on his back, up on his shoulders, threw her up in the air just to hear her mad giggles of delight. And on the bad days, when they dared to show their face, he hugged her so tight she nearly couldn’t breathe, kissed her head and sang pretty songs from his mother, who, like hers, was too far away to see.
“It’s alright, baby bird,” he always crooned, wiping away her tears. “Everything will be okay.”
Dick Grayson was her favorite person in the whole world. He was her brother, her best friend, absolutely the most wonderful boy she knew. He was her everything.
And he left.
She remembered that night vividly, when Dick sneaked into her room, woke her gently with a hand to the shoulder and hugged her tighter than he ever had before.
“I love you,” he whispered, hand cupping the back of her head, “I love you so much, baby bird.”
“I love you, too,” Annie said tiredly, rubbing her sleepy eyes as she leaned into the hug. “So does Daddy. He loves you lots.” She said it thoughtlessly, emphatically, wanting to reassure her brother because she’d snuck down to the Cave like she always did that evening and overheard bits and pieces of the explosive argument between her family before she just couldn’t take it anymore.
She didn’t understand though. She didn’t know how broken it had become, how broken they had become.
Family was supposed to be forever. She was too little yet to know Dick was saying goodbye.
Dick choked on a sob and pulled back from the hug finally, blue eyes wet with tears. “If you ever need anything at all, you call me, okay? What’s my number?”
Annie rattled the phone number off with ease, and Dick finally smiled. “So smart. You’ll do great things with that big, beautiful brain of yours, Annie.” Then he tucked her in to sleep, kissed her head and turned off the ballerina lamp at her bedside.
“When will you be—be back?” Annie asked around a yawn, eyes already slipping shut. She hadn’t heard Dick’s footsteps as he approached the bed again. But she’d felt the gentle hand on her forehead, the last kiss to the top of her head.
“I love you, baby bird. Don’t ever forget that.”
And then, he was gone.
***
***
***
“So, your dad’s coming tomorrow?” Percy asks, stumbling back as Annabeth opens the door like he doesn’t already know.
“Yep,” Annabeth pops off for the second time in as many minutes. It’ll be great. She thinks. He’ll try to give me a hug but won’t, I’ll pretend it’s not awkward, and we’ll spend the three-hour drive back to Gotham in deafening silence, both of us wishing we knew what to say. A killer Christmas Eve really, they should make Hallmark movies about my dad and me.
Percy’s eyes widen, and Annabeth realizes she’s said everything aloud.
“I didn’t know you grew up in Gotham,” Percy blessedly picks to comment. “Ever meet Batman?”
Annabeth barks out an unexpected laugh, then steps forward and hugs Percy to keep the laughter from turning into sobs.
***
***
***
Annie was five when Jason came to live with them.
He was...not Dick.
“Who the hel—eck are you supposed to be?” The tiny, decidedly angry boy asked Annie when he magically appeared at breakfast one morning.
Annie stuck up her nose and narrowed her eyes before responding. “Anne Elizabeth Wayne.”
“What kinda name is Annabeth?”
“My name isn’t Annabeth, it’s Anne Elizabeth--,”
“You talk too fast, I’m not hearing any difference there, shortstack--,”
“Who are you calling shortstack, you pipsqueak? And your goofy ears are certainly big enough to--,”
“My ears, oh, we’re going there, princess, well have you ever fu—fudging heard of a brush, you got rats living up in there or what--,”
“Enough,” Dad said calmly as he took his seat to the left of Annie at the breakfast table. “That’s enough. Jason, this is my daughter, Annie. Annie, this is Jason Todd. He’s going to be staying with us for a bit.”
“But Daddy--,” Annie whined immediately.
“Daddy?” Jason mouthed to her derisively. Annie stuck her tongue out at him.
“I’m sure you’ll learn to be great friends,” Dad interjected.
“Yeah, Annabeth,” Jason’s added with a beatific smirk, “We’ll be the best of friends, you and me.”
“You and I,” Annie immediately corrected. “Idiot.”
***
Annabeth was seven and a half when Jason left.
“Hey, princess,” Jason whispered, waking her with a gentle hand to the shoulder as he turned on her ballerina bedside lamp. “Rise and shine.”
“Is it morning?” Annabeth asked sleepily as she wiped her eyes. Jason shook his head and chuckled softly as he ran a hand through her hair. “Still a rat’s nest,” he said softly, letting his hand just rest on her head for a moment. His blue eyes were bright.
“Jason,” Annabeth whispered, reaching for his free hand with both her own, realization flooding her. “Jason don’t leave. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t go.”
Jason closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Annabeth,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t go. Don’t leave me, too. Daddy loves you; I know he does, he just worried about you, Jay! That’s all it is, he’s not mad at you, he’s just—he so bad at talking about it, but he loves you lots, just as much as me, probably more than me really, because he chose you, and--,”
Annabeth stopped talking, because Jason looked like his heart had been ripped in two.
“Don’t leave me here. I’ll miss you too much, Jay. You’re my best friend in the whole world, I don’t--I don’t want you to go!”
Jason closed his eyes again. The hand still on her head began to gently pet her hair. “There’s one thing I need to do. I’m not sure how long it’s going to take me.” Jason opened his eyes again. “But once that’s done, I’ll come back, okay? Not forever probably, but I'll come visit you, okay? And if—if you want to come with me, I’ll take you along. Not now, it’s too dangerous now. But after, I'll—I'll ask you then, okay? Think long and hard about it, Annabeth.”
“I will,” Annabeth promised. “I’ll think about it, but you have to come back, okay? Promise me you’ll come back.”
“I will.” Jason promised solemnly, “I will.”
***
***
***
“Hey,” Percy says softly that night as they sit around the campfire with the few campers remaining for winter. “You can come to my house for Christmas if you want. You’re always welcome. And Mom—Mom would love it, I know she would, I think she’s always wished for a big family, especially at Christmastime.”
Annabeth smiles ruefully. She remembers that first summer she’d met Percy, right after the battle with Ares on the beach, when they’d thought Sally Jackson was gone for good. Annabeth had been close to calling Dad then, close to telling her father about another dark-haired, light-eyed, orphaned boy who needed a home.
But Annabeth had realized before she could bring herself to dial the number, that would make Percy Jackson her brother. And Percy Jackson was not supposed to be her brother. He was her…friend. Her very good new friend whose father was Poseidon, and Mother wouldn’t stand for having him in Dad’s house. Luckily, Sally Jackson lived, and the point was moot, but Annabeth still remembers. She knows Percy could have had a big family once upon a time. And she knows she is a selfish, selfish person for failing to share it.
“Thank you,” Annabeth says sincerely. “I really appreciate it. But it’s okay. It’s been a while since I was home. And Tim has probably over-exaggerated everything that happened on Mount Tam, so I should…I should clear that up, I guess.”
Percy hums thoughtfully in response, staring into the depths of the fire. “You’ve never really talked about your brothers before. How many do you have?”
“Four.” Percy starts at the response but doesn’t say anything for a moment.
“Older or younger?”
“Three older. One younger, but he’d slit my throat if he knew I told you that. We’re only a few months apart. Different moms, obviously.”
“Do all your brothers have the same mom?”
Annabeth shakes her head quickly. She takes a moment to decide how much to share, before remembering this is Percy, and if she can’t trust him who in this world can she ever trust, so she just gives it all.
“Have you ever heard of Bruce Wayne?”
Percy’s eyebrows furrow at the question. “The Wayne Tech guy? The one who adopted a bunch of—oh my gods, he’s your dad, isn’t he?”
Annabeth simply nods.
“So, are you--,”
“He’s my biological father. He’s Damian’s too, that’s the one who’s my age. But everyone else is adopted.”
“Then why is your last name Chase?”
***
***
***
The weeks and months after Jason’s death were…blurry.
Annabeth hadn’t returned to normal schooling after a preschool incident with the cyclops janitor. Tutors were brought to the Manor for her, though the lessons had been abruptly disbanded after Jason’s funeral. Alfred had technically taken over responsibility for Annabeth’s schooling in their absence, but his efforts were sporadic and half-hearted at best. Everyone in the house knew Annabeth was already testing three grade-levels above her age, and no one had the focus or energy to really care about school.
So, they didn’t.
Dad rarely emerged from the cave, Alfred relentlessly cooked and cleaned and baked, and Annabeth…wandered. She’d wake when she felt like it, got dressed if she pleased, and found new and interesting hidey-holes throughout the Manor to tuck herself in and wish the day away. She wandered down to the kitchen when she remembered hunger, sneaked down in the cave to check Dad was still alive at least once a day, and nearly always ended up in Jason’s room, curled up under the blue quilt her brother had loved so much when the light outside the windows went dark.
Annabeth woke one morning to a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she nearly jumped with joy, sure that Jason had kept his promise, he was here, he couldn’t possibly be dead when Dick’s face came into relief.
“Baby bird,” Dick whispered, and his voice caught. “C’mere, kiddo.” And Dick picked her up like a toddler and carried her across the hall, through her bedroom to the bathroom. He sat her on the toilet and filled the tub with warm water and bubbles. He stripped her of the pajamas she’d been wearing for three days and looked away as she settled underneath the bubbles.
“Tilt your head back, honey,” Dick said softly, as he poured water over her hair and massaged shampoo into her scalp. Washing away the rat’s nest.
“Oh, baby,” Dick rasped, wiping away the tears from her cheeks that Annabeth hadn’t noticed beginning to fall. “Okay, okay, hang on.” He finished quickly, rinsing her hair, running it through with conditioner and scrubbing her up and down with soap before lifting her out of the tub and wrapping her tightly with towels.
“I know,” he said, hugging her close. “I know, I know.”
“Why did he leave?” Annabeth finally let herself wail. “He promised me he’d come back. He promised! You never promised—you never, why, why why why—I can’t, Dick, I can’t—Why did he go?”
“I’m sorry,” Dick repeated quietly into her wet hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
***
Dick dressed her in warm sweats, bundled her in blankets on a sofa in the family room and began playing a Disney movie on the TV. He disappeared for a bit, only to return with a bottle of Gatorade and his arms full of packs of fruit snacks and crackers.
“Drink at least half of that and eat one of these and I won’t bother you about it again,” Dick promised, so Annabeth obliged.
“Do you know where Alfred is?” He asked, once Annabeth was snuggled against his arm and half asleep. Annabeth shook her head. Then she paused.
“What day is it?”
“Thursday.”
“He’s at the cemetery. He puts new flowers on Jason’s grave on Thursdays.”
Dick didn’t reply.
Annabeth eventually fell asleep and woke to the credits rolling on the television and her older brother once again missing. She sneaked through the kitchen and up the stairs to the office, before descending the stairs through the old grandfather clock.
“I’m taking her with me,” Dick shouted, his anger echoing throughout the cave and up the stairs. “When is the last time you even talked to Annie? I know you’re grieving, but she is too, Bruce, and you and Alfred are neglecting the kid you have left! I found her sleeping in Jason’s bed at one in the afternoon, in pajamas she’s probably been wearing a week. Do you even know the last time she ate? Jesus Christ, Bruce--”
“You’re not taking her,” Dad replied quietly. “You can’t. It’s not safe.”
“Not safe!” Dick thundered back. “Not safe! Your seven-year-old daughter is upstairs, dehydrated and practically mute. It’s not safe for her here--,”
“You don’t understand,” Dad whispered. “It’s not safe for her. You can’t take her because you can’t see them, it’s not safe.”
“You’re not fucking making sense!” Dick screamed, “One of your kids is dead, another neglected, and the third got a visit from the fucking neighbor kid last night, telling me that I needed to be Robin again because Batman was going crazy and one of these nights, he was going to kill someone. Yeah, Tim Drake knows. Great fucking job, Bruce. Great fucking--,” Dick burst into sobs.
“Why can’t you go upstairs?” Dick asked finally, voice rife with despair. “Give Annie a hug. She needs you, Bruce. She’s seven years old, she needs--,”
“She knew he left,” Dad whispered. “He—he said goodbye to her. She knew he left, and she didn’t—she didn’t…” Dad trailed off.
“She’s a baby, Bruce. She’s a little baby, you can’t blame her--,”
“She understands more than you give her credit for. She’s wiser than you think.”
***
Annabeth ran away that night. That minute really. She ran away with only the clothes on her back and vague notions of finding her mystical mother in her mind. With her mother’s blessing, she made it all the way to Virginia, where she met a boy who was a blond version of Dick, and a girl whose very being bled Jason.
She told Thalia that one night, told her how much she reminded her of her dead brother Jason. And Thalia had pulled Annabeth into her lap and cried and cried and told Annabeth the story of the little brother Annabeth reminded Thalia so much of, a tiny blond boy named Jason.
Thalia promised to take care of her, to watch out for her and be her best friend, to always be with her. She promised Annabeth she wouldn’t leave without her.
Thalia died a week later. Just like Jason.
***
***
***
“Then why is your last name Chase?”
Annabeth pauses for a bit, the memories flooding her.
“After I ran away, I figured my dad was chasing me.” She finally replies to Percy with a shrug. “I think the only reason he didn’t catch up with me before I made it to camp was Mother intervened. My legal name is Anne Elizabeth Wayne. My brother Jason called me Annabeth as a kid, so I just….” She shrugs again.
“Annabeth Chase.”
“Yeah. My dad,” Annabeth clears her throat, “When I wanted to go to boarding school with Thalia, he set up a new identity for me. He made Annabeth Chase real.”
“Guess that’s easy enough to do when you’re rich.”
Annabeth shrugs. It had actually been Babs, but Percy doesn’t need to know everything. At least not yet. And the rich thing is part of it. Jason likes to say that Batman’s superpower is being richer than God. It never fails to make Annabeth laugh.
“Tim seemed nice. Definitely smart.” Annabeth shrugs again.
“Honestly, I don’t know him that well. He joined the family after…”
“After you left,” Percy finishes for her. “Why did you leave?”
Annabeth clears her throat. She watches the flames jumping for a bit, crackling merrily in the December evening. “My brother Jason…there was a terrible accident. We thought he was dead for—for years. He’s…he’s okay now.” Debatable. “He’s home.” Also debatable, but not technically a lie. “It was my fault Jason left. Dad never forgave me for it. So, I ran.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Percy says immediately, emphatically. “You were only seven.”
“I knew better.”
“It doesn’t matter. You were seven.”
“You sound like Dick.”
“Excuse me?”
Annabeth laughs. “My oldest brother’s name is Dick.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“He makes it work.”
They sit in silence for a while, both staring at the fire. “Can I meet your dad tomorrow? He’s coming at nine, right? I think Mom’s coming to pick me up around that time, too.”
Something in Annabeth’s chest warms at Percy’s words. He wants to meet her dad. He wants to check up on her dad. And he’s subtly reminding Annabeth that until the last second, she has an out. She has another opportunity for a fun Christmas.
“Yeah,” she replies softly. “Yeah, you can meet him.”
***
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***
“My dear,” Chiron called to her after her archery lesson, “You have a visitor.” He pointed her to the central campfire, where a familiar figure was standing tall. She was wearing jeans and glasses, but her lasso was recognizable to Annabeth, wrapped around her waist as a golden belt.
“Annie,” Diana said quietly, kneeling in the grass as Annabeth approached her. Annabeth sprinted the last few feet to Diana and slammed into the woman, crying into her shoulder as strong arms wrapped tightly around her.
They stayed like that for a long time, Diana nearly crushing Annabeth into her chest and Annabeth simply leaning into the hug, digging her face into the woman’s neck, seeking the comfort her father could never give.
“Hi,” Annabeth finally sniffled out, wiping her eyes with her fists as she haltingly pulled back from the hug. Diana kept her hands on Annabeth’s shoulders and gave her a small smile.
“Hello, sweet one. It’s been too long since I’ve visited Chiron and Camp Half-Blood. Would you like to give me a tour?”
And for the first time in a very long time, Annabeth smiled for real.
***
Annabeth saw through Diana’s plan immediately. She noticed the offhand questions about her well-being and friends, what she was eating, the things she was learning, how she was sleeping, and knew that her answers were being carefully catalogued to be passed along to her family. Annabeth knew, and decided she didn’t mind, because Diana let Annabeth grab her hand and drag her along from the lava wall to the strawberry fields and back, smiling and squeezing Annabeth’s hand all the while.
Annabeth didn’t mind until the end of her tour, when she and Diana walked to the top of Half-Blood Hill to visit Thalia, and Annabeth noticed a tall, dark figure standing in the shadow of the tree.
“He just wants to talk, sweet one,” Diana said quietly, after Annabeth stopped in her tracks. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
Annabeth bit her lip and dropped Diana’s hand.
She started forward slowly and knew the minute she came into her father’s view beyond the boundary.
Dad crouched down immediately. When she was close enough, he held up his hand to cup her cheek.
“Hi, Annie,” Dad said hoarsely. “I’ve missed you.”
Annabeth continued to chew on her lip.
“Dick says hello. Alfred, too. They wanted to come along to visit you, but I thought the first time—I think we need to talk. But they miss you. And they say hello,” Dad finished stupidly, which was how Annabeth knew he was nervous.
“Annie--,”
“You don’t need to worry about me anymore,” Annabeth interrupted. “I’m learning how to fight. I’m safe here. Everyone can see the monsters, and they can’t get in here. So, I’m safe.”
Dad looked confused for just a moment; Annabeth clocked the second he remembered his argument with Dick. The second Dad realized she’d heard everything.
“Oh, sweetheart--,”
“I’m okay,” Annabeth repeated firmly. She stepped away from Dad’s hand. “I’m safe. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”
“Annie, wait--,”
“Bye, Dad,” Annabeth said, running down the hill, back to camp.
She didn’t look back.
***
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***
“Your mom is early,” Annabeth comments, hiking her duffle up her shoulder as she and Percy march together up Half-Blood Hill.
“She usually is,” Percy replies with a shrug. “Your dad isn’t?”
Annabeth rolls her eyes. “He’s always on time. Like, exactly on time. At precisely oh-nine-hundred hours I’m sure my dad will be standing directly underneath the tree. I wish he was just making a game of it, but I think it’s his OCD.”
“Ah,” Percy adds, like he understands. He doesn’t, but Annabeth appreciates the sympathy.
“Mom!” Percy shouts as they reach the crest of the hill. He sprints up the rest of the way and runs straight into his mother’s open arms.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Sally Jackson murmurs. She closes her eyes and buries her head into Percy’s shoulder. They’re the same height now. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Always am,” Percy replies hoarsely. Sally taps his cheek playfully before giving it a kiss.
“Annabeth!” Sally cries out, releasing her son and reaching out for Annabeth instead. She pulls her into a hug and squeezes her tight. “I was so worried about you. I’m so glad you’re okay, honey.” She kisses the side of Annabeth’s head and pulls back, hands still on Annabeth’s shoulders. “I don’t know if Percy told you, but you are absolutely more than welcome to join us for Christmas, we would love to have you.”
Annabeth can feel herself blushing. “He did, Mrs. Jackson, and thank you very much, but my dad should be--,”
“Annie,” A deep voice calls out behind her. Over Mrs. Jackson’s shoulder, Percy mouths, Annie? to her with his eyebrow raised.
Annabeth rolls her eyes at Percy before turning around.
“Hey da--,” Annabeth barely gets out before she’s engulfed by dark wool and strong arms.
“Please don’t scare me like that again,” Dad sighs into her hair, hugging her even closer. Annabeth takes a deep breath and leans into the hug, melting against Dad’s side. He still wears the same cologne.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did you hit your head, where did this come from?” Dad asks succinctly, still hugging her as he picks at the new gray streak in her hair.
“It’s a long story. But I’m okay, I promise,” Annabeth says softly. Dad leaves the hand on her head and strokes back her hair.
“I missed you,” Dad says.
“I missed you, too.”
“I love you.”
Annabeth buries her face in her father’s coat. “I love you, too.”
The arms around her don’t let go.