Quiet Waters (Fem. Percy x Young Justice) (EDITING IN PROGRESS)

2

"You're starting to scare me," Diana said. She dipped the dirty rag into the bowl of water before scrubbing at my face again. "This is the fifth time you've done this. You should call me." I blinked slowly at her. Call her? And what? Let dead air fill the microphone? "Don't give me that look. I'm not stopping you from going out at night and goading monsters into fights, so you could at least send me a text when you're having trouble."

Another blink, and I turned my head away.

"It's like talking to a brick wall." She sighed. Water sloshed over the rim of the bowl. It froze in midair, twisted into various shapes, then disappeared down the kitchen sink. "I'm serious. If you keep doing this, I'm going to have to call your father. "

I stiffened. No. No no no. If she talks to him, even calls him, he'll know I'm not where I'm supposed to be. My fingers tapped against my leg. Diana's eyes dropped to them. A small smile pulled at her lips.

"I'm glad we're in agreement." Diana disappeared into the kitchen. As water was gurgling down the drain, the phone rang. It was a high pitched, grating trill. My nails dug---and punched into---the couch cushions.

Diana snatched it off its hook. "What?" A pause. "I really can't come in right---Yes, I understand that, but---" She groans. "Fine. Fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes." She slammed the pastel yellow phone into the receiver and disappeared into her bedroom. My hand trailed over a cut on my hand. Everything in her apartment was some pastel color. The bowls in the sink. The bowl of the sink. The cabinets. The walls. It looked like a unicorn threw up and the decorator used it as inspiration. 

Even the blanket she'd went and bought for me was a soft, pastel baby blue. A fitting color, because she kept treating me like one.

"I won't be home for a few hours," she said when she reentered the living room. Her armor shone in the mid-morning sun. " There's food in the fridge. Do. Not. Leave." She shrugged on a running jacket. "I'll have Batman hack into the security cameras if I have to."

I settled deeper into the spring green couch and tugged my blanket around me.  What other choice did I have, I thought as the lock--a high-end key-card-one Batman must've installed-- clicked behind her.

Diana

"If Batman isn't here within the next two minutes, I'm leaving." I collapsed into my seat, kicking my feet onto the table. Dinah's head tilted to the side, like the bird she takes her hero name from. Her eyes sparkled with intelligence and curiosity. A shudder tore at my spine; I fought it back.

So what if she reminded me of Luke? Or of Annabeth? She wasn't the same as the them. No, she was alive. Will would be a better comparison. If I combined the three of them together, I was sure the resulting homunculus would resemble Dinah in some way.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine."

Barry rocked back in his seat, tossing an empty takeout container aside. It missed the trash. He zoomed to put it in before it hit the floor. "No offense, Dubs." His chair wobbled. "But you don't usually do this. You're all Miss Prim and Proper. You know, killing the mood all the time?"

"Would you like to know what being pulled through the air by your ankles at Mach Eleven feels like? I doubt it's as fun as running at it."

"Enough." Bruce said. Barry fell with a loud grunt. Captain Marvel, Billy, stifled a laugh. "Captain."

"Sorry, sorry. I just--" He snorted. "Hold on. I need a minute." 

"It is with every passing day that my worry about the future of this world grows," I whispered. How could it not? My father's power coursed through my veins, fettered by my mortal half. Billy's young, yes, but how long would it be before the power he possesses corrupts him? Even Percy---

When Percy had the Curse of Achilles, that was by far the most dangerous she had been. With her mortality strung to her like a kite string, she tore and fought with such vicious glee. She enjoyed the slaughter, the bloodshed, the same way our parents did.

Heracles, Mercury, Atlas. I laced my fingers together. To have access to their power without having to deal with constraints borne from a hybrid nature...

I shook the thoughts away and managed to pay attention to the debrief. It wasn't important. Any time the conversation lulled, my thoughts flicked to Percy. Should I call? She wouldn't talk, but seeing her would be enough. It wasn't normal. She wasn't normal.

My chair scraped across the floor. "I'll return in a moment," I said. Bruce didn't protest, and he didn't order me to sit back down. That didn't hold true for Dinah.

"Oh, please." She threw over her shoulder. "I'd think you of all people would know that girls go to the bathroom in groups. Shayera? Are you coming?"

"I do need to stretch my wings. I'm sure my husband will be able to fill me in on the details." Her boots clomped on the ground, and I ended up herded into a bathroom. 

Dinah gestured for us to cover our ears before releasing a high-pitched trill. A mirror cracked. A cup shattered. Then she proudly perched on the edge of the stone sink counter, lips twisted into a soft smile. I imagined she was thinking of Clark writhing in pain on the floor from the one time he had been eavesdropping. "Spill."

"If Bruce has any cameras in here, I'll drag him to the Underworld and let Cerberus use him as a chew-toy," I muttered.

"I'd be more worried about Plastic-Man than Batman."

"You are not normally this flippant," Shayera said. "Or uncaring about missions, whatever they may be." One of her wings stretched to block the door. I sighed.

"I have a self-destructive teenager currently living in my apartment. She sneaks out and comes back covered in bruises and cuts." Dinah sucked in a breath. "She is there. Alone. And she's not talking, and she ran away from home, and I have no idea what to do."

Dinah tapped her fingers before clenching her hands. "Do you know where her parents live? Why she ran away?"

"I have my suspicions." Over the last few days, I'd stripped every breakable piece of furniture from my guest room. I'd tacked shower curtains to the walls. And it took getting hit by a nightstand to learn to wait until the storm had settled to check on her. If she'd whipped up a hurricane in her room at Sally's---

Percy would never forgive herself if her mom got hurt due to her.

"How old is she? And how long hasn't she been talking?"

"Sixteen, and she hasn't made more than a few noises since I found her about a week ago. I'm not aware of if it was happening prior to that or not. I would have to get in contact with her father, but she is...let's say opposed to that idea." It'd been ten minutes, more than long enough to use the toilet. My eyes flicked to Shayera. She shook her head. No one had decided to come get us yet, or, at the very least, no one had come down the hall towards the bathroom yet. Her enhanced hearing was the main reason I didn't protest her joining me and Dinah in such meetings.

The heater kicked on, and its buzz filled the silence.

Sighing, Dinah leaned forward. "I'm assuming she wasn't mute before this, but it could be a vocal chord injury, reluctance, or something that's made her not able to talk. There are multiple reasons for something like this, though I can't tell you what it might be without trying to communicate with her." She shook her head. "You might have to call her father."

I was afraid she would say that. The fact that using calling him as a threat was working drove nails into my nerves. What had he done? What had Percy done? I swept up the broken glass on the counter and watched it patter into the trash can. Light glimmered along the edge of a large shard, the glint of a razor.

"Can-- Can you fill me in on what happens? I need to go home." Before either answered, the stall doors slammed into the walls. I sped through the halls, feet never touching the ground. A self-destructive teenager. A self-destructive teenager, and I left her alone. Alone with a sword. Alone with how many knives?

Hello!

I have finally gotten around to editing another chapter. I hope you like it

See yah