Chapter Text
Rhea was having a particularly bad week – no – few months. She’d woken up in the body of a young girl, a Rhea Jackson. She was about six, she could tell from conversations with her new mother – Sally Jackson.
Sweet Sally Jackson tried her best; Rhea knew that. It didn’t change the fact that Smelly Gabe – truly a smelly and abhorrent man – was top of all her current issues (aside from the fact she was apparently reincarnated at some point into the Percy Jackson world. She tried not to think about that too much. She also tried not to linger on the thought that Gotham was real, as was Batman. Her head hurt from thinking over all the possibilities).
It was like a bad fanfiction; she’d come home from school to see her dead mother, and Gabe suspiciously absent. Rhea felt her throat close tightly at the sight of her dead mother on the ground, the apartment reeking of alcohol.
She hurriedly grabbed clothes, shoving them in a bag, unsure when Gabe will be back. Gotham wasn’t a safe place, and she wondered why her mother would have them live in Gotham of all places, but Rhea couldn’t be a chooser. She ran, and ran, blanching when her feet found her in Crime Alley.
She fingered the knife she stole from the kitchen. It thankfully had a sheathe, and it probably wouldn’t be the best of help, but it was going to be her only source of salvation in this world. At the very least she could find comfort in the thought that she’d probably die quite quickly in Gotham.
As she braved the dark alley, finding a rooftop to perch on quietly, huddled and shaking from the cold, she eyed the dark sky, lamenting the lack of stars. Gotham truly was the city of pollution.
It was probably around three in the morning as she was shuddering from the cold when she heard light footsteps. Her shoulders hunched at the sound, peeking behind her warily. She exhaled harshly when she saw a man with a red hood and red mask, a bat on his costumed chest.
She turned back to the eerily quiet night sky – like the calm before the storm.
“I haven’t seen you in this alley before, kid,” Red Hood’s altered voice spoke, the words sounding firm and distantly harsh. “It’s not safe here, especially at night,” He warned.
Rhea blinked away the sudden tears, not facing him. “My stepfather recently emancipated my mother’s soul from her body. I don’t know where else to go – at the very least he won’t look here. Maybe tomorrow I’ll steal some cash and make a cross-country trip.” She murmured.
Red Hood stopped next to her, plopping down on the roof next to her quietly. There was a moment of silence. “That was a big word for a kid, how old are you?” He asked.
Rhea shook her head in almost rueful amusement. “I read,” She said defensively although that wasn’t true anymore with the dyslexia. “Six,” She finally continued.
Red Hood hummed next to her, staring at the sky in contemplation. “What’ve you got in the bag?” He asked almost gently.
Rhea raised an eyebrow at him, eyeing him in consideration. “Just clothes.” She admitted. “Smelly Gabe didn’t have any cash in the apartment when I left. We were out of food as well,” She finished ruefully.
Red Hood made an almost grunt of a noise, going silent after for a few minutes.
They both stared up at the starless sky, each in their own minds.
When Red Hood spoke, it was with a barely noticeable sense of trepidation, and Rhea only noticed as she was more in keen with the cycling of people’s moods, always aware, always making sure the mood wasn’t volatile, and if it was, to get the hell out of dodge (or pacify, she thinks to herself acidly in shame).
“You can come back to my safe house, just for the night at least. You’ll need some sleep if you plan on any trips,” He told her.
Rhea felt a flutter of gratitude and appreciation for Red Hood, the man one of her favorite superheroes before she’d transmigrated into this universe. She probably unintentionally found herself seeking out his territory for that reason, she reasons with herself distantly.
She puts her chin on her knees as she holds them to her chest. “You won’t give me up to my stepfather?” She asked. She couldn’t see his appalled look, but she could sense it as his face turned her way and stared; a look of heavy judgement. She flushed. “No cops? No Batsy?” She confirmed, hearing her voice shudder and turn pitched in both worry and embarrassment at even asking the questions, but needing to confirm.
“Fuck, kid, no,” Red Hood said, running a hand down his masked face, looking frustrated and weary. Rhea hunched her shoulders even as he spoke, but released a shaky breath, gearing herself for her response.
“Yeah, I…I wouldn’t say no to that.” She said quietly, voice fragile as she took another longing look at the sky, wishing she could be a bird in this moment – free, independent, traveling as it pleased.
It wasn’t long before Red Hood had her at one of his safe houses in Crime Alley. Much to her shock in the morning after a night’s rest, a heavy meal of microwaveable macaroni, and a shower, Hood convinced her to stay longer. Just one more night, he said. He was making some preparations for her, he promised.
It wasn’t as much of a shock when the next day came, and he requested she stay again. Three nights turned into a week, a week into a month as Jason eventually moved her to his apartment. The month turning longer – finding herself almost coddled some days and nights by Red Hood. He wasn’t around all the time, but that suited her fine. She could entertain herself.
It was strange when the bats found out about her. She had a lot of visits from various bats, none from the big bat himself, but certainly everyone from Nightwing to Spoiler. She’d come to expect the uninvited and unannounced visits. Waking up to random gifts sitting on the counter for her.
She stopped questioning the madness that was her world a few months into this, resigning herself to the fact that the batfamily was chaotic, and didn’t take no for an answer. If you resisted, you probably got hugged and cuddled to death by Nightwing.
In a way, as depressed as Rhea was to have found herself in a world that wasn’t just full of gods and demigods as well as the DC universe, the support she found in such a chaotic and wild family was enough to keep her steady, to ground her. The chaos was almost like a balm to her soul.
She still counted the days, the minutes. She still walked listlessly from room to room, sat in long silences wondering her purpose in life, but for now, it was enough.