Chapter Text
Sweat was dripping down Jason’s neck as he slowly made his way to breakfast. The temperature had risen far today, and even the thick walls of the manor were powerless against the sun.
His muscles ached from the time he had slept slumped against Percy’s wall, yet somebody—and he heavily suspected Percy—had heaved his body into Percy’s bed. He had, however, woken alone today, the other side of the bed cool, so Percy was probably already in the kitchen.
Jason still hadn’t really processed the revelation from yesterday, but for now he had decided to suppress everything he had heard from Percy. After breakfast he would drive to one of his cooler underground safe houses and have a breakdown there.
Stepping through the doorway, his movement stilled. While it was sweltering everywhere else inside, the eating room was dominated by a freezing aura.
Most of the Waynes were sitting at the table, their heads bowed, and before them sat… the saddest excuse of a breakfast he had seen in the manor since the week when Alfie was on vacation in England.
On each plate sat a single piece of toast with a slice of cheese. Not even the crust was cut away. Was Alfie dead?
Then he felt the stares.
Slowly turning his head, he looked with wide eyes toward the kitchen, only to meet the frown of a very disappointed Alfred Pennyworth. It got only worse when Percy stepped out of his shadow wearing the exact same expression as Alfie. For a moment, Jason was unsure which house inhabitant Percy was really related to.
When Percy’s eyes met Jason’s, Percy’s frown vanished and a dazzling smile appeared.
“Jason!” he exclaimed cheerfully, walking back into the kitchen, where the rattling of plates could be heard. “Sit. Sit. I made you waffles with vanilla ice cream to cool you down a little,” he said, placing a full plate with multiple blue waffles and a mountain of ice cream before Jason’s seat.
Jason sat down dumbly, unsure but relieved that he was in the clear. His place also gave him the perfect view as Tim staggered into the room. His tired eyes lightened up when he saw Jason’s waffles.
“Oh, Percy made waffles. What a wonderful morning.”
His smile only faltered when Alfie placed a plate with toast in front of him and chided, “Master Percy isn’t your chef and doesn’t have to make you food.”
For the rest of breakfast, Jason enjoyed the shameful silence, only interrupted when he and Percy talked. Full of smugness, he moaned every time he took a bite of waffle.
Suck it, bitches. Being emotionally intelligent had its advantages.
“Say, Jason, any chance you could take me with you when you drive later? I want to buy an ice cream machine. If it stays so warm, I think it would be for the best.”
Jason stood up to bring his plate to the sink. “Sure, kiddo,” he said, and for good measure ruffled Percy’s hair. He laughed as a squeaking Percy patted Jason’s hand away.
Percy glared at the saleswoman as he walked backward out of the shop. The ice cream machine she had praised was nothing more than a cheap thing; Percy could literally see the paint flake off and tiny roses of rust bloom.
He stomped down the road. The whole thing was such a waste of time. In every store he visited, they either had overpriced machines for thousands of dollars or cheap knockoffs.
He was so deep in thought that he only looked up when his feet skidded across the ground. Why was there ice? Percy seemed to have unconsciously followed an icy breeze to an… over-iced street.
Shrugging, he turned toward one of the side alleys. Gotham was weird. Pulling out his phone to plan the route to the next shop, he prayed to the gods that at least something would happen positively for him.
When he looked up and saw an ice cream truck, he had to blink a few times before he fist-pumped the air and cheered. Nearly sprinting toward it, he knocked on the metal shutters.
He heard a crash and a shout from inside, which supported that the gods were merciful today. He pounded a second time when a door was ripped open. Out of the truck, a guy with a goldfish tank over his head peeked out. His bluish skin was drawn into an angry grimace.
“What?”
“Two scoops of Smurf in a cup, please,” Percy requested.
“Excuse me?”
Really? Percy rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that hard. “I would like to get two scoops of Smurf ice cream served in a cup, please, sir.” Look, Olympus, he could act politely if he wanted.
The other guy just blinked at him before a sickly violet color crept up his face. “Is that a joke? Do you know who I am and what I could do to you if you don’t run away right now?”
Percy leaned back a little to glance at the giant ice sign on top of the truck, then leaned forward again and shot the goldfish man a confused look. “An ice cream vendor, and I hope you can finally make my ice. I mean, come on, it’s hot today.”
“I am Mr. Freeze, the cold bane of Gotham, and you will—”
Something clicked inside Percy’s mind: the memory of a disastrous weekend filled with too much sugar and haikus, ending with plans to resurrect the French Sun Kings for wig tips.
“Oh my gods, you’re Victor Fries. Oh my—what a coincidence.” He grabbed the hand holding the truck door open and shook it enthusiastically. “I need your number… or your email, whatever you have. I’ll take it.”
Dr. Fries snatched his hand back like he’d been burned and hissed, “I don’t date minors. I’m not thatevil.”
Percy crinkled his nose. “First of all, gross, dude. Second, it’s for a friend. Your wife—Nora, right?—he has a whole pinboard dedicated to her. Man, he is dying to get a chance to contact you.”
He was yanked inside the truck. Briefly, he saw rows of boxes stacked in the back, little LED lights blinking in the half-darkness. Icy air flowed over his heated skin. Then he was rudely shoved against one of the walls, one arm pressed against his throat. He allowed it, because he realized that maybe his words had been a little creepy.
“I mean in a medical sense—he’s a healer,” Percy tried to explain. That at least lessened the pressure against his throat.
“Science isn’t advanced enough to heal her. Don’t think you can trick me.” Dr. Fries’ voice was small, riddled with grief. Percy slapped a hand on Dr. Fries’ shoulder to calm him down.
“Yeah, but he and his siblings aren’t normal doctors. They’re—what’s it normally called? Ah yeah, metas. They can totally do it. Trust me.”
Dr. Fries clenched his eyes shut behind the glass before slamming the door closed and pushing Percy into the passenger seat. “You will come with me. You will call your friend for me and hope you can deliver what you promise, or you will suffer a slow, cold death.”
Shrugging, Percy buckled himself in and leaned back, reaching for his phone. A little aggressive, sure—but he had dealt with worse treatment.
Sea Prince:
Yo Will, can you grab some of your siblings and let Nico shadow-travel you to me in a moment?
Doctor Summer:
I swear to the gods, Percy, if you have hurt yourself again. You were supposed to be on vacation.
Doctor Summer:
What do you have?
Sea Prince:
Nothing, I swear. It’s really not me this time.
Sea Prince:
I have organized one Nora Fries, ready to be cured for you.
Doctor Summer:
Shut up.
Doctor Summer:
By Apollo djj ekfodbeüand
Doctor Summer:
Marry me, Percy.
They were driving down a hidden loading ramp into what looked like a high-tech bunker. Percy, unfamiliar with the level of electronics, just looked around with wide eyes.
Giant tubes transported liquids that were mixed in clear tanks until they became semi-transparent and light blue. Then they flowed into a giant web of confusing, interconnected pipes before traveling elsewhere.
He was so fascinated that he didn’t notice when he was grabbed and pulled out of the truck. Blinking, he found himself sitting on a table, Dr. Fries across from him, a giant futuristic gun resting in his lap.
The doctor tapped on the wooden table and spoke. “Give me your friend’s number and I will meet him and bring him here. You will be living here until he arrives, and pray that he is successful, or none of you will leave.”
“Sure, but I can just call him here. No need to make such an effort,” Percy frowned. Standing up, he walked to a dark corner before the doctor could say something.
“Nico, I’m here. You’re safe to come through,” Percy told the shadow.
The corner visibly darkened, then released—like emerging from an oil lake—four people. A tired Nico who looked like he might fall over any second, clutching a blanket and a pillow. And three blond, tanned teenagers with slightly manic sparks in their eyes.
Before Percy could say anything, he was pushed aside by Will, who walked straight up to Dr. Fries and shook the stunned man’s hand.
“Hello, Dr. Fries. I’m very happy you decided to get in contact with us. I’m Will Solace, and these are my siblings, Yan and Gracie. We are positive that we—”
Blocking them out, Percy turned toward Nico, who had already slumped down on the floor, blanket over him, head on his pillow.
Poking him with his foot, Percy asked, “What made you so sleepy in the middle of the day? I thought Will was forcing you into a good sleep rhythm?”
Nico groaned and murmured, “Had to stay up the whole night for Underworld business. Some asshole kid in Scotland tried to put a piece of his soul into a book, and I had to fix it. Took so much energy.”
Percy sat down beside his cousin and started stroking his hair until Nico was fast asleep. Resting his back against the wall, he enjoyed the escape from the sun outside.
He dozed off a little until a snapping Yan stood in front of him. “Percy, we need you in there.”
Silently standing up so as not to wake Nico, he followed Yan into a hidden room behind the lab. In a large frozen tank lay a gaunt woman. If Percy was honest, she looked more dead than alive, thin ice vines growing over her face. Will and Gracie stood over her; Gracie held a thin vial containing what looked like scraped unicorn horn. Dr. Fries stood to the side, hope shining in his eyes.
“Ah, Percy, good that you’re here,” Will said. “We need you to start pumping her blood as soon as it starts to melt. Gracie, you will heat up the body, and I will heal her sicknesses. Yan, jump in if you feel something wrong. Everybody understand?”
Percy nodded. He had helped often enough in the infirmary to know what to do. Stretching his senses, he could feel four nearby hearts and one distant one pumping blood through pulsing veins.
As he concentrated, he sensed tiny drops of fluid appearing within his reach. Slowly, his mind built a blueprint of a human blood system from the position of the droplets. When they began to connect, he pushed his hands forward, forcing the liquid to follow the tracks it was meant to flow along.
Once he found a rhythm, he opened his eyes. Gracie stood a short distance from the woman, her hands raised above her head. Sunshine streamed through her fingers, slowly melting the ice.
Veins bulged along the woman’s body—not in the typical beating pattern of a heart, but in a slow, wave-like motion.
Yan was reciting poems in Ancient Greek for reasons unknown.
But Will—Will showed the full power of a healer. A scalpel of pure sunlight, coated with unicorn horn, vanished into Mrs. Fries’ flesh in complex patterns. Sometimes sizzling, mostly silent.
Closing his eyes again, Percy focused on moving the blood.
When the first weak heartbeat disrupted him, Percy nearly fell over. Wrestling control back, he supported and stimulated the strengthening heart.
Once it was strong enough, he withdrew his powers, allowing her blood to flow freely through her body. He slumped into a chair beside Dr. Fries.
The doctor looked alarmed and tightened his grip on the strange pistol. “Is something wrong? Is it too late?”
“Nah, everything’s fine,” Percy said. “Her heart’s strong enough now, so she doesn’t need me anymore. Ugh—giving up control is way more exhausting than taking it.”
Dr. Fries looked at him with curiosity. “Really? I’ve heard the opposite from other metas. Why is that?”
Happy to distract him, Percy answered, “If I let go too fast, the blood would start acting out. It could vaporize, expand inside the body, move fast enough to rupture veins, or even separate into its own parts. It’s nasty, and so far I’ve been lucky enough to prevent it.”
“Oh,” the doctor said quietly, and they fell into a comfortable silence.
After an hour, Will and his siblings stepped away from Nora Fries, who now looked like a normal sleeping woman—skin rosy, chest rising in a steady rhythm.
Cleaning his hands with a wet wipe, Will walked over and told the worried doctor, “The operation was a success. All her vitals are within a normal range, though still on the weaker side. I’ve placed her in a semi-coma; she should wake up in about forty-eight hours.”
Percy retreated a bit to give them privacy while Will explained what had happened.
After a while, Dr. Fries approached Percy to thank him and tried to offer a proper reward. Since money or the destruction of enemies didn’t interest Percy, there was only one thing he wanted.
“You want me to build an ice cream machine that simultaneously colors everything blue?” Dr. Fries asked. “Sure, I can do that—but is that really all you want?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s the whole reason I’m out of the house in this heat,” Percy said, nearly bouncing on his feet. A high-quality machine—perfect.
“Hey,” Will interrupted, “could I get one too? I could heal your cold addiction in exchange.”
The doctor stared at him, mouth agape, before nodding in agreement.
As they packed up their things, Dr. Fries slowly approached Percy again.
“So… you can control blood,” he said quietly. “Does that ability require anything, or can you use it anytime?”
“Nope. As long as I’m awake,” Percy replied. “It’s a great tool to stop any bleeding, haha.”
Dr. Fries went pale and staggered over to Yan.
“Does he really not notice?” he asked helplessly. “I mean…”
Yan laughed. “He’s completely oblivious. We’re all wondering when the day will come that he realizes how he comes across.”
Percy squinted. “Are you talking about me?”
Yan clapped him on the shoulder. “Forget it, Percy. It’s not important.”
After many goodbyes and many, many painful attempts to wake Nico, Will and his siblings shadow-traveled back to camp.
Percy grabbed his package with the ice cream machine and was ready to leave when he realized one problem—he had no idea where he was. Jogging back to Dr. Fries’ house, he knocked until the man opened the door again.
“Yes?” the clearly confused doctor asked.
“Any chance you could drive me to Bristol?”
Half an hour later, Percy stepped out of the ice cream truck and walked up Wayne Manor’s driveway, waving the doctor goodbye.
He found the rest of the family in the garden, desperately trying to use the sun to tan themselves.
“Guess who’s back?”
A symphony of tired groans answered him. Most of the Waynes decided to stay lying down, their eyes closed in an attempt to shield themselves from the blazing sun. Everybody except one.
“Perseus, what is that you’re holding?”
Holding up his ice cream machine, he answered, “Got a new ice cream machine. It was a bit of a hassle to find a good one, but I finally managed.”
“Are you aware that that is one of Mr. Freeze’s ice pistols?”
That made every one of the Waynes jump up from where they were. Percy just blinked at them.
“Whoa, careful with that, Percy.”
“Please give me that, Percy. Don’t make any fast movements.”
Percy waved the machine around, making the others duck.
“Please, the only way to hurt somebody with it is to make them slip on the ice cream.” He rolled his eyes.
To prove his point, he pointed the ice cream machine at the table and activated it. The Waynes shouted.
On the table landed a big lump of blue goop. Before anybody could say anything, Steph dragged her finger through it and licked it.
“Hm. Strawberry.” She took another swipe. “But how is it blue?”
“Asked for a custom adjustment,” Percy shrugged. “The doctor was more than happy to help me.”
“Doctor? Do you mean Mr. Freeze?”
“Dr. Fries,” Percy emphasized. What was it with the Waynes and wrong names? “And I must say, it was really chill to talk business with him.” He chuckled.
“Damn, kid,” Jason looked impressed. “What did you pay him for that?”
“Just did him a favor. Nothing big.”
“Percy, that is important. What did—” Bruce began, looking strangely alarmed.
“Is that ice cream on the good table there?”
Everybody froze as a figure appeared in the doorway. “Ah, is that the device you sought to acquire, Master Percy?”
“Oh yes, Alfred. It can make up to twenty-three different flavors, but sadly everything turns blue. Must be a construction error.” Percy tried to look innocent.
Alfred chuckled. “I see. Would you like to come inside and tell me how to operate that device? And Mistress Steph, if you are finished, please clean the table afterward.”
With those words, Percy and Alfred vanished inside.
“Tt, I hate this family.”
“Why can’t at least one of my children be normal?”
“Hey!”
“Whoa, careful.”
“Not your child.”