18: I Crumble Completely When You Cry

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Content Warning implied/mentioned dissociation; talk of canon typical violence

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It was cold. That was Percy's most notable observation. The air felt thin and almost sharp against her skin.

The thoughts were cold, too, bringing a chill up her spine that had her glancing over her shoulders. She'd heard so much about the Joker, but she'd never realized he was real. He seemed like one of those mythical monsters she was once blissfully ignorant to, but just like the monsters, he was real. 

Percy also naively thought Arkham would stop him. Yes, she knew of his frequent breakouts and destructive nature, but now she was witnessing his hold on people. The purple-gloved death grip he had on his goons despite the straightjacket on him, despite the layers upon layers of restraints set against the madness that drove him and all of Gotham up the wall slowly and carefully.

You wouldn't realize the creeping insanity until you were six feet under.

But for now, Percy would focus on the biting cold. She sat on something smooth and cold like stone, but she couldn't be sure. She had her back on something, probably a wall, which was good (one less place to be checking over). Someone's hand was in hers, she wanted it to be Annabeth's calloused hands but she knew it wasn't, the hand she was holding was lither, the fingers were more tapered, and didn't fit in hers with the practiced perfection that Annabeth's did.

Percy slowly felt herself coming to. The sleep-like haze lifting from her. The first thing she took in was how humid the place was, which was surprising given it was early November in New Jersey. Complain as she would, the water vapor lingering in the air made the process a little more tolerable for her. The next thing Percy realized was that she was shaking, which made focusing on the too-dark room difficult.

Something heavy was being draped over her shoulders. She appreciated it, though some distant part of her was yelling that it was a trap, that she should run. She couldn't bring herself to run, and the comforting warmth from the heavy blanket was calling to her like a siren's song.

When she could finally process what she was seeing, she noticed Cassandra leaning against a wall beside Percy with some vintage-looking headphones poised over her ears. Her head was resting against the grey stone of the walls. There was a giant penny and a dinosaur at the far end of the (really strange) room. a room that looked more like a cave, now that she thought about it.

Percy tried to call out to Cass, though her voice failed her. She tugged softly at Cassandra's hand, the girl immediately turned to face her, her chin-length hair forming a dark roundel against her pale skin.

"Back?" She asked softly. Percy does her best to nod in return, though it takes her a while to fully get back her motor functions.

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After a couple of hours, the sun was rendezvousing with the earth in a perfect display of Apollo's beauty. Percy was now back to herself, mostly, though getting wound up in her thoughts seemed easier than ever. She couldn't get her mind off the Joker and how the presence of one single deranged man could affect the lives of so many around her. She had been unable to help Jason at the time, but she saw how clearly affected he was by the mere mention of him and his clown goons. Bust despite the panicked crown everyone almost seemed as if--

"It's normal here, isn't it? They all seemed so used to it. The Joker, I mean, and his..." Percy told the room. It was just Bruce and Dick; Damian was led out of the Batcave by Ace, Tim was forced out by Alfred, and Jason was barricaded in his room trying to recover. Percy waved her hand around meekly, having lost track of what she originally meant.

"Normal isn't the best way to put it," Dick replied helplessly. "It's a part of our life, if that's what you mean, but we don't get used to it. Ever. No matter how long you've lived in Gotham or how long you've been heroing. It's still scary, Percy."

"So it's a part of your day-to-day?" Percy knew she shouldn't be letting her emotions get the best of her, but she was so tired and she felt so weak and anger seemed like the perfect mask to distract herself from her own incompetence (or wear herself down). "He just does as he pleases, killing people on a whim? Why don't you do something about it? The ball is in your court and clearly, the asylum is not working well enough to stop him from fucking murder!"

"Why don't we get you someplace to rest? I don't think your room was taped up yet--"

"No. No. You don't get to tell me to get 'some rest' because I've had a 'stressful day' when it's his fault. Not when Jason is barreled in his room because some sick, killing joke decided to get a laugh out of crashing an engagement party."

"Percy, it's not that simple. B has rules and we do our best to follow them. It's safest for everybody when we do." Dick tried to placate her, seeing the strain of the argument on her hunched form.

"Fuck your rules. And fuck Gotham for letting it slide." Percy had her hands clenched in fists to keep them from shaking, but her grip strength was weakening and she really wanted to be safe and warm in someone's arms and not in a decked-out basement that smelled like a health code violation while trying to argue against a murderer.

It was a lot. It was too much. Bruce wasn't helping in the slightest and Percy felt tears welling in her eyes despite the anger seething under her skin.

"Maybe your rules arent as holy as you think they are if your son felt the need to lock himself away from you just to feel safe." Percy left, begging her feet to move faster than they did, begging her strengths to last her enough to get her to her room. As usual, though, Percy's prayers were left unanswered.

She held her hand against the wall of the study--she'd made it out of the cave, at least--and tried to catch her breath. Her inhale was interrupted by a hiccuping song, a cry for help that she'd ignored for years. A cry of built-up frustration and anger and sadness that had her stumbling to the leather couch that stuck to her skin uncomfortably. The blanket tangled at her feet, and though she tried she couldn't manage to hold her sobs in as crumpled over herself on the floor of a stupid office in a stupid house filled with stupid 'heroes' that couldn't do their stupid jobs.


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p.s. zoowee mama. idk what happened there but this is percy's villain origin story (shes not actually a villain tho). this isnt edited yet but i promise i'll edit once i get back to my usual writing device. dont mention the title or i'll skin you alive.

important question: do you guys want to see percy as batgirl? i have some plans in mind for how shes going to start off her vigilante career--that i wont share yet--but i kinda wanna make percy batgirl for a little bit before she develops her own superhero identity.

on the topic of batgirl-- i swear im about to intoduce both babs and steph. i was gonna do it during the gala but i thought it was too mean to have them go though that.

off topic but tfw you invalidate your sexuality and gender identity because obviously you're faking for attention despite having been comfortably out for a while.

also i take back what i said last chapter. i hate boytoy, hes stupid and a copycat /j

thank you so much for reading, i love you all so much and i miss you. bye babes x

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