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It all began with a late-night text message from Peter.
The agent had kept the White Collar team, and Neal, through dinner for a case Jason just couldn’t see the urgency in.
A multi-million dollar company could have lost a couple of millions if they had stopped working at five PM like everyone else. So what? It’s not like the company didn’t have more millions. It was in the name!
Staying late was nothing new, but it wasn’t as easy a pill to swallow on nights Jason was looking forward to cooking up some comfort food and calling his sister.
The second he completed this kèpfos [stupid] undercover mission, Jason was going back to punching villains in the face and never looking back. He’d figure out a way to streamline reports, too. No more stacks of paperwork for him. He’d had enough.
That was all to say: he almost didn’t check the notification on his phone.
What was midnight if not a great time to be unavailable to your boss?
Nine to five, my ass, Jason thought as he opened the text.
Because of course he did. Felons on work-release didn’t get to ignore their warden-bosses. At least, that would have been his reason if so many years working as a Bat—and distinctly Not-A-Bat—hadn’t already ingrained in him the habit of never truly being “off duty.”
His screen lit up. He read the message once.
Twice.
And again—
Burke: Diana’s son kidnapped from her house tonight. Sitter at ED, prognosis good
Sent at 12:13 AMBurke: Di about to leave the station
Sent at 12:15 AM
A dozen plans and twice as many theories formed in his mind at once—or, if he were being honest, unraveled.
Diana certainly had enemies as an FBI agent. But working in White Collar meant more non-violent criminals than not. They might blame her for ending up in prison, instead of their own greed or, gods forbid, their own actions, but Jason couldn’t imagine many who would go as far as kidnapping not her, but her toddler.
Diana grew up around wealth as the daughter of a diplomat, but neither her family, nor she herself had the kind of money that would make this kind of kidnapping worth it.
It would have been one thing if the kidnapping had been opportunistic. If Theo had been in public with some kind of vulnerability, like inattentive parents or a tendency to wander, Jason wouldn’t have blinked twice.
But whoever took him had enough incentive to plan a B & E and take a kid straight out of his home. Which meant they were prepared to commit aggravated assault to do so and put themselves directly in the line of fire of a federal agent, possibly one who had already helped put them in prison.
A dark voice in his head told Jason he was the most likely reason his friend’s child had been a target. He was the one with truly dangerous enemies. People, nay monsters, who would see no issue with hurting a child to get to him.
“Bat paranoia,” Barbie would call it.
He could imagine her saying it as clearly as he could Tim responding with, “It’s not paranoia if they really are out to getcha!”
There was no evidence thus far to suggest that sending a message, or threat, to Jason was part of the plot.
Not that Peter would know what to look for if there were.
Jason would have to check out the scene of the crime himself, as well as places his aliases were “known to be found”—if you knew who to ask, and how not to get your ass handed to you for asking.
At least, he could count on Peter telling him if there had been any communication with the kidnappers. Without more information, worrying about the possibility of his own culpability in the mess was unproductive.
Diana was his priority right now.
She answered before the third ring, sounding wrecked, “Neal?”
“Hey, Peter told me what happened. I want to help.”
There was the sound of rustling, then a sniffle.
Pushing her too far too fast would get them nowhere, but every second counted in a missing person’s case, and she knew it. Jason wanted to give her all the time in the world to collect herself, but could only let the silence go on for so long before he had to nudge her toward what had yet to be said.
“Diana?”
Her words spilled out one on top of the other, “You have connections in the Justice League. I don’t know how, and I won’t ask. I wouldn’t ask anything of you if I didn’t…”
There’s further rustling like she covered her phone with her hand to take a deep breath, or perhaps to cry.
“There’s something the detectives don’t know about Theo,” she continued, “something I can’t tell them.”
A sense of serenity settled in his mind as the situation began to look less like a way of getting to him and more a case meant for him.
He could work with that.
“Can you tell me?” he asked.
Possibilities whipped through his mind like sandstorms. Diana was an alien. No, a meta. Maybe she thought whoever took Theo did so with magic. Maybe she was magic.
“Not over the phone,” she said.
“Come over, then. I was going to invite you anyway. You don’t need to be alone right now.”
Even if her house had been cleared, and there was no way it would have been so quickly, he knew she wasn’t going to feel safe there the same night it had been broken into.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes. And you can stay here as long as you need. There’s another bedroom across the hall. I know June would be happy to have you.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep until Theo is safe, but I appreciate the offer.”
They could argue over sleep later. Jason understood Diana was going through one of the worst things any parent could imagine. If something happened to Lian, he couldn’t say what he would do. His no-killing streak definitely wouldn’t matter in the face of getting her back.
Hmm, maybe he could say what he would do; he just shouldn’t, at least not in front of any FBI agents.
Regardless, Diana needed to rest and to take care of herself so that she would be able to take care of her son when she got him back—because she would be getting him back alive.
Any other outcome was out of the question.
After Diana ended the call, Jason texted June to let her know about the incoming guest, made the extra bed, and readied his apartment for his friend in crisis.
It was already neat; it always was. Jason kept his spaces clean per his own preferences and routines, but Neal’s apartment was different in that it barely looked lived in.
This was intentional and also not a lie.
Jason spent most of his nights there, but Neal Caffrey didn’t actually exist, so how could he have a “lived-in” apartment?
Every bit of clutter—a jacket by the door, inoffensive books about art on the shelves, a mug with a handful of pens on the coffee table—had been placed with purpose.
It wasn’t a con that typically held up long. He only got away with it because Neal wasn’t supposed to be comfortable living here or planning to stay a day longer than he had to.
Jason hoped the barren-feel would be more calming for Diana than not.
The apartment was cozy enough and private, but it was obvious Neal lived alone. There weren’t as many things to trigger thoughts about her son as in her house. Certainly no child’s toys lying around or drawings on the fridge.
Jason looked around, satisfied there were no signs of love, before gathering up the softest blankets he had and setting them on June’s couch.
In the kitchen, he cut up some apples for a light snack. He started a pot of coffee, filled his kettle with water, and put a bottle of whiskey onto the counter as an unspoken option, in case it ended up being what Diana needed.
It wasn’t natural for someone whose job was solving cases to step back from the ones with the highest stakes, but there were reasons agents were barred from cases that were personal. The rules weren’t so different from the ones that kept doctors from treating their own immediate family.
No parent in Diana’s shoes would be in the right headspace to find their kid on their own.
Good thing she isn’t on her own then, wasn’t it?
Breathing in deep, Jason tried to let the confidence sink into his chest. He was going to need it.
After all, the best way to make sure Diana never caught a flicker of doubt from him was for him to never have it in the first place.
And why should he? He was the fucking Red Hood. He was infamous. Notorious for making the worst odds work in his favor and always coming out on top. This was his expertise. Or, as Neal would say, his masterpiece.
Diana settled curled up on his couch with a cup of tea in her hands and a blanket across her lap; allowing Neal lay a second blanket over her shoulders so she had full coverage.
They sat in silence for a long moment, weighted with fear, but Jason didn’t try to break it or push through this time. Diana knew what she wanted to say. She just needed time to figure out how, exactly, to say it. From the sound of it thus far, he doubted it was something she had been able to speak about with many people, if anyone.
“The detectives on his case don’t know why Theo would have been targeted,” she began. “And I wouldn’t be telling you this if I thought I had another choice. It’s not that I don’t trust you—that’s the only reason I can even consider it. But what I’m about to tell you, whether or not it’s… relevant to Theo’s—his case, it could be dangerous. You shouldn’t be hearing it from me in the first place, and you can’t tell anyone no matter what happens. It’s not illegal, but it’s big and the knowledge could put you in danger. You have to promise to take this to your grave.”
Jason considered her warning carefully.
Alien, meta, magic, he thought. Unless…
The chance was small. Minuscule. Nowhere near as statistically significant as a dozen other possibilities.
A gut feeling had him alluding to it regardless: “I could swear an oath on a certain river.”
Diana jerked her head up to meet his eyes. They were warm and knowing, as always. Fierce and sure, like he’d come to depend on.
“You know about…” Diana cut herself off with a sharp breath. “Camp?”
There was a moment, just one, when the suspicion that Diana could truly be talking about demigods was exciting. A split second when it meant sharing an entire world with her, an entirely new future ripe for the taking.
Until it hit him that it meant she was part of a world never known for happy endings.
Jason pushed his feelings aside in order to answer her question.
“Yes,” he said. “What makes you believe that was the reason he was targeted?”
Diana pulled the blanket around her shoulders tighter.
“Two weeks ago, my friend’s daughter was taken. She’s four and a daughter of Aphrodite. My friend is well-off, she modeled for years and now runs her own agency, so the detectives are waiting for a ransom call. We weren’t sure there was a connection until tonight. I’ve been keeping an eye recent cases of missing children in New York, and I don’t have a way to prove it yet, but I don’t think she and Theo were the only two demigods.”
Jason gave himself five seconds to close his eyes and rage internally.
Five… Nothing about the case sounded like Graeco-Roman monsters—too organized, too much long-term strategy—four… which left mortals. Mortals with supposed morals and choices, choosing to target kids, to hurt them, three… because of some sick fascination, two… their own or of someone willing to pay, one…
Crossing his arms at his wrists allowed him to dig his fingernails into the inside of his forearm without alarming Diana. Nothing that would draw blood. Just enough sensation to ground himself.
Zero.
Jason opened his eyes. “I know who we need to call.”
If Diana was surprised by the speed of his decision, she didn’t show it. It could well have been buried under the relief that crashed over her at the sound of help. Of any plan that meant she was doing more than waiting.
Jason didn’t waste a minute in setting up his Msirp—a Leo Valdez special.
The son of Hephaestus wanted to find a way for demigods to make rainbows at any time of the day and, by the gods, did he ever. Jason did his best to explain Iris Messaging to Diana as he set it up, but they were both distracted with thoughts of the missing kids.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll see.”
He pulled a drachma from a hole carefully cut and concealed in the couch and flipped it into the air. All the while looking at Diana to watch the awe on her face when, instead of falling on the floor as gravity demanded, the golden coin disappeared into thin air.
“Oh, Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow,” Jason said, “please show me Annabeth Jackson. I think she’s at Camp Half-Blood, but she might be in Manhattan tonight. It’s urgent.”
Not his smoothest request, but Emergency IMs had a way of going through even under the most imperfect conditions.
Funny that.
After he finished speaking to the air, a beat of nothing passed, during which Diana was looking at him and he was expressly not looking back, before the air in front of them began to ripple.
Jason made sure Diana was out of frame by the time Annabeth came into view, knowing catching her off guard at this time of night would only lead to unnecessary panic.
When his sister finally came into focus, Jason was pretty sure she was sitting up in a certain bed in Cabin 3, but the room was too dark to be sure. He could just make out the top of a large book resting in her lap, tilted up off her knees.
She met his gaze with a smile.
“Χαῖρε [as in ‘hi’ (khaîre)],” she said.
Then, nudging the person next to her, she added, “Look, Seaweed Brain, it’s my fifth favorite little brother.”
Percy snorted out of sight. “Χαῖρε.”
Jason smiled back—he couldn’t help it. His sister was awake at a gods awful hour, for her at least, which never happened for good reason, her hair was a mess, gods knew she deserved a fucking break, but her first instinct upon seeing him was still to try make him smile.
“What happened to third place?” he teased.
“Raven got back at Cabin 11 for messing with our weapons—no one could find anything for weeks—and Teddy brought me double chocolate cookies when he visited.” She shrugged, unapologetic. “You got bumped.”
He rolled his eyes to play along, but something about her tone or maybe her facial expression reminded him of the day they met.
It had been weeks of walking, hiking, climbing, and running, sometimes beside and other times while carrying Damian, all without rest. His shoes had a hole the size of Texas in each sole, and his neck had a crick from all the time he spent looking over his shoulder.
Talia had sent them running from the League, and after far too many close calls, they had made it to the one place she assured them they would both be safe.
Not just offered temporary refuge. But safe.
He had been carrying Damian when they finally arrived—the kid made until they were at the top of the hill in front of Camp before passing out for the next twelve hours.
Annabeth had been the first to greet them at the border. She immediately offered accommodations, somewhere he could set Damian down, but didn’t press when he couldn’t accept.
Jason was claimed minutes after crossing the border. Not unheard of in the new age, he’d later learn, but not commonplace either.
Annabeth brought him past the Big House, saying he’d go there that night or the next day, whenever he was ready, leading him straight to Cabin Six to “shower or rest, whatever you need before dinner. The empty bunk is all yours.”
What was more overwhelming than even the lava wall was taking in the size of Annabeth’s family. He remembered so clearly the thought that there was no way she had any room in her life for anyone else.
And all the ways she proved him wrong over and over and over again to that day.
Even the Bats, who he had a decent enough relationship with—even the Bats never figured out how to do what she did.
Annabeth was just like that. Once she decided you were her people, she took care of you, and she didn’t let you go.
Jason was pretty sure his destiny was decided the moment she saw him stumble over the border, legs shaking, cuts all over his face, never loosening his grip on Damian.
With the reminder at the front of his mind, Jason grumbled that, “Damian never gets bumped.”
“Βρέφοσ Νῠκτερῐ́σ [Baby Bat (Vréfos Nukterís)] is a precious, little baby who’d never hurt a fly.”
They managed a pause of a few seconds before they both let out peels of laughter.
The shared moment brought warmth to his chest, even in the circumstances.
It wasn’t long before Annabeth dropped her smile and flipped the tone of their conversation on its face without blinking.
Jason was considering the best way to delay the explanation he knew needed to happen, and thus keep reality at bay, but dropped all of his ideas at the sight of Annabeth’s Batglare—not that he’d ever call it that to her face.
“Now tell me what’s wrong, Ὄρνισῐ́σκοσ [Little Bird (Órnisískos)].”
Jason had never been good at hiding his emotions from his family, but Annabeth and Cass had a way of making him feel the need to check there weren’t closed captions trailing across his forehead.
He sighed.
“Remember the FBI agents I’m working with?”
Annabeth set her book aside so that she could properly cross her arms to scold him. “Just because it takes them more time to do things doesn’t mean they’re completely incompetent.”
Diana laughed, which Annabeth heard, of course, so he moved closer to Diana. The rippling image moved with him, allowing the two women to see each other.
Allowing him to witness two completely different, and yet eerily similar, visual assessments.
“Diana,” he cut in, “this is my sister, Annabeth. Annabeth, this is Special Agent Diana Berrigan. Her son is a demigod. He was kidnapped tonight, and she has reason to believe he wasn’t the only one.”
Annabeth absorbed the information without revealing a hint of her distress or thought process on her face.
Until the release of a sharp exhale.
“Well, fuck.” She yanked her hair out of a messy braid to pull it back into a high ponytail. “I need to call an emergency meeting with the Heads. Are you at June’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Have you called anyone?” she asked, referring to the Bats.
“No.”
She nodded with a keen look in her eyes. Jason knew it meant she was already determined to win this battle, whether she had the lay of the land or not.
“Give us fifteen,” she said.
Jason had no time to argue before she swiped her hand in the air, ending the IM.
He turned and, at the expectant look on his friend’s face, did his best to answer at least one of her questions before she asked, “I’ll let Annabeth introduce herself. For now, all you need to know is that she’s a demigod, she helps run Camp Half-Blood, and she is the smartest person I know. If anyone can figure this out, it’s her.”
Diana’s expression softened.
He thought she would have more questions, or at least more to say, but she simply patted his arm and went back to her tea.
They sat like that, in silence, for several minutes.
Jason picked up the book on his side table to offer the illusion of space, but couldn’t read more than three words in a row without getting stuck. He always struggled with his dyslexia more when stressed.
He read the same line a dozen more times, for the sake of his cover, until Diana cleared her throat.
“Can I ask?”
“Anything,” he answered, actually meaning it for once.
“Who’s her parent?” Seeming embarrassed, or as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud, Diana brought her mug up to cover her mouth. “Is that a rude thing to ask?”
Jason chuckled. “It’s typically something demigods know about each other or figure out pretty fast, so, no, I wouldn’t say it’s rude. She’s a daughter of Athena.”
“Battle strategy,” Diana said, hesitating. “Right?”
“Yes! And wisdom, and handicraft, and a bunch of other things. Annabeth will love that you said battle strategy, though.”
Diana looked sheepish. “I found out gods were real and had kids. And my kid was one of them. The library was my first stop.”
Oh yeah, she and Annabeth were going to get along just fine.
“Who’s Theo’s…” Jason scratched the back of his neck, suddenly not sure he should be asking his co-worker this question.
Diana definitely noticed, but had enough grace not to say anything, although she did smirk at his sudden modesty.
“Nemesis.”
Jason wouldn’t have admitted it, but he physically startled. “No kidding.”
“Why?” Diana asked, growing concerned. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing! It’s just that she doesn’t have many kids that we know of, but my husband happens to be one of them.”
“You’re married?” Diana balked. “You have a sister, and you’re married. To a man. How did I not know any of this?”
“Professional con artist—allegedly—remember?”
She nodded, wavering before her next question. “Does that make them brothers? Theo and your husband?”
“To put it simply: yes. Relationships get weird when gods are involved because they don’t actually give us any DNA, so for the most part we don’t count cousins or anything.. Most of us grow up without meeting our siblings until we get to Camp where we stay in cabins together. Not everyone is close, but there’s never a question of whether we have each other’s backs. That much is true of all demigods, really.”
Diana leaned back as if to study Neal. “‘Us?’”
His mind blanked except for one word in blaring red. Fuck.
Jason blinked twice.
“Gods. You know, I knew that was going to come out? I just didn’t expect to fuck up that fast.” He continued through Diana’s laughter, “I don’t have a lot of practice talking to mortals about this stuff.”
“Mortals?” Diana said. “That’s what you call us?”
“Well, I’m partial to your names,” Jason said. “But otherwise, yeah, that’s what we call you. We’re half-bloods or demigods. We consider ourselves—we are human just like you. Just also another thing.”
“Just half-god, right?”
Diana said it like she was going along with the joke, but he didn’t have to be a son of Apollo to hear the truth under it, too.
“‘Half’ is more of a modern concept, actually,” Jason said. “Gods have a lot of children, and some of those children may have more prominent gifts than others. It’s all frustratingly vague.”
“I think I get it,” she said.
He believed her.
Hesitantly, she asked, “What are your—do you have gifts?”
Jason leaned back against the couch, not able to fully relax, but trying to let himself get part of the way there.
“You know how the team jokes about me pulling off the craziest schemes? Things that shouldn’t work, but do?”
“Luck?”
“No, never,” he said. “Seriously. But it turns out battle strategy is a skill adaptable to your environment.”
Realization dawned across Diana’s face.
“Annabeth is a daughter of Athena. She’s your sister. That’s why you called her, isn’t it?”
Jason laughed. “Like I said, I called her because she’s the smartest person I know. She makes my stunts look like child’s play. Seriously. But, yes, she is one of my sisters.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“On my mom’s side? Twenty and counting.”
“And on your dad’s side?”
“Biologically, legally, or emotionally?”
The conversation between Jason and Diana came and went in bursts as they alternated questions about their Greek connections.
“Percy will come, too. He’s Annabeth’s husband. If you ever see them separate willingly, it might actually be the end of the world.”
Diana laughed.
(Jason meant to, but when the time came, he just couldn’t force it.)
First came the hoofbeats on the balcony, then Annabeth and Percy arrived in a flurry of hugs and shrugging off jackets and quiet acceptances of steaming herbal and fruity tea, respectively.
Annabeth held her hand out toward Diana. “Hi, I’m Annabeth Jackson, daughter of Athena. I assume Neal told you about me.”
Bless her for remembering his cover. He had given up enough to Diana that he knew he wanted to tell her the truth eventually, but B would never stop lecturing him if he didn’t wait until his case was over.
“Diana Berrigan,” Diana said, taking the offered hand. “Thank you so much for coming. Yes, Neal explained some things. It’s nice to meet his family, even if the circumstances are...”
“I understand.” Annabeth offered a compassionate smile. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
Percy stuck to waving, “Percy Jackson and what she said—wait, no, I’m a son of Poseidon. But it’s always nice to be able to put a face to the name.”
Diana swiveled her head around to stare at Jason.
“Neal talks about me?” she asked with a smile.
“For sure.” Percy stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “Don’t worry, there will be plenty of time for Annie and I to embarrass him with stories later.”
Jason took back the mug he had been about to hand over.
“Hey!”
Annabeth gave Jason a sharp look—that he in no way deserved because he wasn’t the one who started it—and said, “Later. Right now, I need you two to tell me everything that you know.”
“Of course, sit. Anything that you need,” Diana said. “Thank you again. Thank you for helping me find my son.”
Annabeth brushed off the compliments easily without coming across as dismissive. One underrated skill of many.
“Theo is one of us,” she said. “And even if he wasn’t, you’re important to my little brother.”
Jason was too busy getting Annabeth’s tea ready to catch Diana’s mischievous expression.
But he heard it loud and clear when she asked, in a syrup-sweet voice, “Little brother?”
“Later, remember?” he said, hurrying out of the kitchen and hoping she would forget when it came time to collect. “We have children to find.”
“Right.”
And just like that, Diana and Annabeth locked into strategy mode.
Diana systemically went over the information she had while Annabeth hand-wrote notes in Ancient Greek .
Within a few minutes, the two of them were making connections even Jason had trouble following.
He and Percy shared a glance.
“Dude, where do you keep finding these people?” Percy asked.
Jason chuckled and answered in Ancient Greek, “What are you talking about? These are my people.”
“Of course, how could I forget you’re all nerds?” Percy teased.
“Hey, you’re including Annabeth in that!”
Annabeth didn’t even bother to glance up from her writing to shush him.
Percy lowered his voice, “Oh, I’m definitely including Annabeth in that.”