Lost Hero

Theif

When Dick and Bruce finally made their way down to breakfast the next morning, they both seemed pretty peeved. But they were startled to see Percy's condition. Normally, she was wide awake and already on high alert. But her eyes were drooping and it seemed as if she was having a hard time moving her arms. Percy's condition quickly made them forget about their anger at letting the girl get away last night.

"Percy? Are you alright?" Dick asks, sitting down beside her.

She looks over at him and smiles and for once, it seems almost real.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep last night," She says, voice going distent.

His hackles raise, that was a bold-faced lie. But then again, did they really have any room to question her? But she was looking at Bruce with a calculating look on her face. She could obviously see the discomfort on his face.

"Percy, I know this might seem a bit odd, but how would you feel about undergoing a mental health assessment? I believe you would benefit from it and either Wayne Enterprises or I would cover the cost," Bruce says, startling all in the kitchen. Surprisingly, Percy starts laughing, bending over her food as she wheezes.

"Really? That's why you looked like you ate your shoe?" At her words, Bruce nods, looking even more unsettled by her reaction.

"Save your money, I'll tell you what my last doctor told me. ADHD, dyslexia, and PTSD. And no, before you ask, I'm not on any kinds of meds but I'm coping," She says, taking a giant bite of her pancakes.

Now Bruce looks like he ate both his shoes, Percy notices, smiling. She wasn't offended, despite what Bruce and Dick might have thought. It only made sense that they would like to know her mental condition, she was responsible in part for keeping them alive or his company and employees safe. She just didn't understand why she wasn't asked when she was first hired for both positions.

"And you're fine with telling us that? All we really wanted was to maybe get you some help," Bruce says, trying to sort out his spinning thoughts.

"Sure, it's not like it wouldn't like you wouldn't be able to figure that out eventually. I understand you want to make sure the person in charge of your safety has their head screwed on right. And thanks for the offer, but I'm good,"

Even though she was smiling, all three men could see that it didn't reach her eyes. But they were confused. They had her military records, only in for seven months but shipped off to war where she was captured and tortured for information, but the only medical records were that of her recovery and injuries she sustained besides the basics. The one psych eval she had afterward indicated that she was just fine, as far as the situation went. Which probably should have tipped them off, no one was fine after that much trauma. The kitchen seems to settle into an awkward silence after that.

"Oh, I feel like I should inform you that some of Master Dicks friends will be coming over today so do not be alarmed if there are more people in the mansion than expected when you return. Master Bruce has arranged for you to use one of his cars, assuming that you can drive of course," Alfred says, breaking the silence. They of course knew she had a driver's license but there shouldn't have been a way for them to know that.

"Oh, yeah I can," She clearly says before snorting in amusement and muttering something about goats and bad driving, leaving the occupants of the kitchen wondering what exactly she was talking about.

"Very good, here are the keys. I assume you can find your way to work? If not, please use the map on your phone. Gotham is not a place where you would like to get lost," Bruce says, handing over the keys to one of the more basic cars he owned. But when Dick saw the red tab on the keychain he panicked.