As soon as Percy was out of ear shot, Dinah turned a glare on her young student, "That was a little rude, don't you think? He was only trying to help?"
Artemis snorted in derision, "Help? What could he possibly help me with," she lowered her voice, "We're freaking superheroes, he's a cop, pretty sure I can take care of myself just fine,"
Dinah, who was no longer watching her student just said, "Didn't stop him from knocking you flat on your ass though," and she missed whatever Artemis' comeback was going to be, as she hopped out of the ring and ran to her bag. She fished through quickly before she found what she was looking for, taking the earpiece out, she stuck it in her ear. Syncing it up with the lenses in her eyes, she synchronized with Wayne Tech satellites and got a patch into Percy's side of the conversation he was having on the phone.
Was it an invasion of privacy? Absolutely. Should she be doing this? Absolutely not. But there was a lot about this mysterious man that was just not sitting right with her for whatever reason. For one, she found it suspicious that he just happened to wander into the one gym in all of Gotham that catered to heroes. For another, he had a run in with two of the young proteges for prominent leaguers. Batgirl and Artemis.
That, and if what Ted had been telling her was true, this guy was probably a meta, or at least enhanced in some way. Then there was the way he fought, it had been quick, but his single-handed smack down of Artemis spoke to training. She had seen the tattoos on his arms, and she recognized military ink when she saw it, John Stewart had similar designs and she had seen them on Ted before as well. But military training alone didn't allow someone to counter someone who had not only been trained by former shadow operatives, but Green Arrow AND herself.
All in all, there was more to Percy Jackson than he was letting on and Dinah was going to figure out exactly who he was, and what he was doing in Gotham.
She heard the click in her ear as her earpiece connected, and she heard the man's deep voice begin to rumble in her ear,
"Jimmy Olson, I've been trying to reach you all day. How ya been buddy?"
Jimmy Olson? Wasn't that Clark's photographer friend from the Planet? What the hell was Percy doing talking to him?
"That's great to hear man! Hey listen, I've got a bone to pick with you, why the hell did you use that picture from the arms bust for the photo? I looked like I had spent the last three months living out of my car!"
Percy was laughing, and Dinah fought to ignore the slight tingling she got from the sound, focusing on the conversation,
"No, no man I'm only teasing you, believe me I am more than flattered that Lois decided to write a story on me. It was beautiful and did me way more justice than I deserve. Hey man, I appreciate that. No thank you, between you, me, and Lois, we made sure a lot of bad people got put away for good. Yes, yes the boy scout helped too. What do you mean pot meet kettle? Oh wow ok, I see how it goes, you know if we're going to go down that road then I just might have to ring up that pretty girl down in the sports column and tell her about that night at Bigsies. Yeah that's what I thought. So how's Lois doing? I tried to get a hold of her earlier but I'd have better luck trying to track down Batman.
Lois? As in Lois Lane? As in Clark's Lois? Just who the hell was this guy?
"Ah, well that makes sense, I'm pretty sure if she stopped working she'd take over the world so maybe it's in everyone's best interests. Yeah for sure man, well listen, unfortunately I didn't just call to catch up, I need to pick your brain for a minute. Yeah, yeah, I picked up a case literally my first night here, didn't have my GCPD badge or ID yet. Now you know the score, can't talk to anyone about this yet, but you get a full run of the notes when this is over. Yes I realize this is Gotham and not Metropolis but this is going to be a big one, and I think you're going to want to hear me out on this. Alright, what do you know about the St. Cloud family?"
There was silence as Dinah listened in on Percy. She could hear the rustling of clothing as the man changed and the occasional hum of agreement or acknowledgment but for the most part, the man was silent. After a little while, the man sighed in disappointment,
"So you don't have anything for me then? No, no, I appreciate it man, we're just banging our heads against the wall here and I was hoping I might get lucky and the girl's parents were, I don't know, caught in some kind of Eyes Wide Shut party with known mobsters. Yes I understand that I'm hopelessly optimistic, it's one of my most redeeming qualities. Alright, well is there anyone you can think of in Gotham who might have some kind of beef with the St. Clouds, or even just might have known them? Wait, say that again, sorry I'm in the locker room and the reception's kind of spotty. Selina Kyle? Why does that sound familiar?"
Dinah nearly choked on her spit. Either this man had terrible luck, or something else was going on. There was no other way he would be casually running into so many different capes. Then again, this was Gotham, most of the big players did run in similar circles.
"Oh that's right. Wait why is she out of prison? Of-fucking-course, she did. Alright Jimmy, well thanks for the help man, I appreciate it. Next time you and Lois are in town, let me know, I'd love to meet up for a few drinks. Alright, you too buddy, take it easy,"
Dinah heard the connection end, and she pulled the communicator out of her ear. She sighed, that hadn't answered anything, only that Percy Jackson was very shockingly well connected for a young detective. Still, something about the man was rubbing her as off. You didn't just happen to run into this many people involved with the league by sheer bad luck. She wanted to run his name across the league database when she got back to the watchtower.
She was pulled from her thoughts when the man reemerged from the gym. He didn't say anything but he did throw a wave in her direction before stopping back at the desk to speak with Ted. He passed over the chain he'd been using and laughed at something the older man said. With a wave goodbye to the gym owner, the strange detective left the building. Dinah ran a hand through her hair, she didn't know what it was, but things didn't add up around him, and she was going to figure it out.
As soon as she calmed down the still pissed off archer standing in the ring.
BREAK
Percy woke up early the following morning. He went for a quick run, before taking a shower, changing into one of the few clean dress shirts he had left, he put on his black sport coat and left to grab a table at the diner for him and Montoya. He had been scrambling to find an apartment when he got his transfer notice, and had ended up with an apartment almost thirty minutes away from his department, granted he hadn't known what precinct he'd be in but still.
He found the diner without much difficulty, and was pleased to see that for the most part it was still empty. Despite having spent much of his youth in New York City, large groups of people in compact spaces made him nervous and so having the diner relatively empty would be a promising start to the day.
Pulling up to the curb, Percy parked the car at the furthest end of the street, parking far enough along where he could pull away unimpeded if the need should arise. Checking his watch, he saw that he was a bit early, about fifteen minutes, so he decided to just head in and snag a table.
The bell to the diner chimed lightly as Percy pushed through the door. The inside was about what he expected, a proto-typical diner, with booths and bar, and only a handful of pictures hanging on the wall. A sign by the door told him to seat himself, so Percy to a glance around before snagging a booth in the corner of the room, facing the entrance and backed up against a rear wall. Sliding into the booth, Percy chose the far side, so that he was looking at the door. Both as a precaution, and to make it easier for his partner to spot when she came in.
He had barely been in his seat for a minute before a waitress approached, a woman in her mid-thirties with dirty blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail, there was circles under her hazel eyes and in spite of the fact that she looked dead on her feet, she mustered a smile for the young detective.
"Morning hon," she said, pulling out her pad "Can I get ya started on anything, coffee? Juice?"
"Coffee..." Percy said, pausing slightly to read the name on her tag, "Erika, please. And can I get another for the table too, I'm waiting on my partner." She just smiled and nodded before heading off to the back. In a flash, the smell of roasted coffee beans was slid under his nose as Erika dropped off two large cups of piping hot coffee on the table.
"Someone's on the ball this morning," Percy said with a smile, thanking Erika as she pulled a pen and pad out of her apron.
"Someone around here has to be," she responded with a little smirk, "Can I get you started on anything while you wait on your partner,"
Percy just shot her a bemused look, "I don't know, I haven't even had a chance to look at my menu yet," he said before looking briefly down at the menu and making a quick decision, "Tell you what, what do you recommend, that's heavy as hell." Percy wasn't going to mention just yet that, due to his divine bloodline, he had a rather advanced metabolism, he needed to ingest a hell of a lot of calories during a day just to stay healthy, and that wasn't even counting what he needed to compensate for what he burned off during his workouts.
"Let me guess," Erika started, a wry grin on her face, "You a cop?" she asked, a rather heavy Bostonian accent forcing its way into her voice,
In response, Percy just reached into shirt and pulled the chain holding his badge out to hang free on his chest.
Erika just nodded at him, "I know exactly what you need," she said, writing something down and before point her pen at the empty seat across from Percy, "Know what your partner will be having?"
"Not a clue, if I say it's Renee Montoya would that help at all?" he asked,
The waitress laughed at that, snapping her notebook closed, "I've got it covered officer. Be right back."
Percy watched as she disappeared behind a door to the kitchen. Reaching out, he snagged hold of the coffee and pulled it closer. Then, he reached over to the back of the table and grabbed hold of the small bowl of flavored creamers. Percy wasn't picky about what his coffee tasted like, so long as it didn't taste like coffee, so he just grabbed five of the small containers, and began ripping the tops of and emptying the contents into his coffee. Stirring what could only be called Percy's concoction, he watched as the inky black turned into a light brown.
Bringing it to his lips, he sighed in delight, it was garbage coffee, made only slightly better by the sugary mess he had dumped into it, and Percy loved it.
He placed the cup back on the table and reached down to his bag that Percy had placed on the ground. Opening it up, Percy retrieved his murderbook, and began leafing through some of his notes. He had spent most of his night yesterday, determining if he would be able to potentially have a sit-down with Selina Kyle. He had been in luck. Gotham was old, almost as old as New York, and that meant that much of Gotham's elite comprised of old money. Families that had lived in Gotham for generations and held the lion's share of the wealth; and if there was thing Percy knew about old money, it was that it loved to show off.
Apparently, Bruce Wayne had decided, spur of the moment, that he was going to throw a fundraiser event for some of the intercity school districts that were the most at risk. Certainly, a good cause, but Percy couldn't help but scoff at the fact that Wayne apparently had the throw away money to just decide, overnight, to rent out the most prestigious art gallery in town and orchestrate an entire fundraising event.
What this meant for him and Montoya, was that if they were going to have an opportunity to try and meet and question Selina Kyle, this was likely going to be it. She was a prominent art collector when she wasn't stealing high value artifacts, and since the fundraiser was an auction of several high-end pieces from the gallery's reserves, Percy would bet his yearly salary she would be there.
There was a reason Percy was focusing so much on this angle. Percy normally didn't like to speculate his cases, Roger, his first partner, had told him when he was still a junior detective, that when you started to speculate you start to shift the narrative. Essentially, it was a warning to wait until there were more facts present before you began working on a motive for a murder. Motive, was usually one of the last links put together during an investigation, because it was easy for an investigator to try and shift the facts and evidence to fit a certain narrative or pattern.
Percy was normally good about waiting until he at least the autopsy and initial forensics reports were done, but something that their lone witness in the alley had mentioned had stuck with him. Why, after he had shot the girl, did their guy lose his temper so badly that he kicked the corpse? Sure, he might have been pissed that she had kicked him in the balls, who wouldn't be? But to not only kill the girl, but to disrespect the corpse in such a vile why spoke to something else, and that was before you factored in all of the other evidence.
Everything about this murder spoke to premeditation. It spoke to careful planning, but there was just something about all of this that didn't seem right. Percy wasn't convinced that the goal of the killer had been to only shoot young miss St. Cloud. If it had been, why not just take her out as she was leaving school? There were enough tall buildings around the block with an open view of the main courtyard and gate that anyone with even a simple hunting rifle, could probably make the shot. Then there was their dead driver. Why bother killing him, and assuming his position if he was just trying to kill the girl? No, something else was going on, he just couldn't figure out what the hell it was.
The chiming of the bell at the front entrance drew Percy out of his thoughts, looking up he raised a lazy hand in the air and waved over his partner. She caught his wave, and wandered over, a smile on her face and a slight bounce in her step.
"Well," Percy said, "It certainly looks like someone had a good night,"
Montoya just shrugged noncommittally, "Might have," she said as she took her seat opposite Percy. She immediately set about fixing her coffee, though she used considerably less sugary creamer than Percy did. "You already order?" she asked as she took a sip,
Percy nodded, "Waitress recognized your name, said she would take care of it. You come here often then?"
Montoya nodded enthusiastically, "Found this place when I was still a patrol officer, have been coming here ever since,"
"And we like it that way," said Erika, reappearing with a tray in her hands. She sat a large plate of corned beef hash, complete with two eggs, over easy in front of Percy and an enormous platter of pancakes in front of Montoya. "Good to see you back Renee," Erika said to Montoya, "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry about Allen."
Montoya's mood visibly darkened at that, but nodded her thanks at the woman all the same. The waitress told them to grab her if they needed anything before, she left them to their meals. Percy set about opening his eggs, and mixing it into his hash. He didn't say anything about he had heard, it wasn't his place to ask and if Montoya thought he should know, she would tell him.
He didn't have to wait long.
"Allen was my last partner," she said, "He was killed a few months ago."
Percy put his fork down and stared at his partner, he didn't bother with sympathy. He had been in her shoes before, he knew she didn't want it or need it. "How'd it happen?" he asked,
Her hands were still wrapped around her mug, and she was gripping it so tightly her fingers were starting to turn white, "You ever hear of the Black Spider?" she asked, and Percy nodded. The Black Spider was a pretty well-known hitman with known connections to both the Maroni Family. "Well me and Allen were working a case when the bastard ambushed us. Nearly emptied a clip into me but Allen was faster, managed to gank him first. It was a good shoot, but we needed the bullet for the I.A. dogs, but someone beat us to it."
Montoya was shaking slightly as she spoke. but Percy just let her talk, it was clear that she needed to get all of this out in the open. "When we went to forensics to see if they had pulled the bullet from the scene, they couldn't find it. Well we didn't buy that for a second so we went back to the scene, snuck in late when the patrolies were all gone. We found the impact site, and the hole the bullet made in the wall but we couldn't find the bullet, someone had snagged it."
She took a sip of her coffee and tried to steady her breathing, "Turns out, one of techs, Jim Corrigan, stole it." She spat the name out like a foul-tasting grape, "Bastard had the nerve of selling it online. Well he didn't expect that we would figure out who the seller was, when we confronted him about it..." she trailed off, her voice choking slightly as her entire body shook in rage.
It was silent for a minute, and Percy just let her compose herself before he spoke, "You get the bastard?"
Montoya nodded bitterly, "Yeah we found him, son of a bitch tried to run but I found him hiding out in the warehouse district, when I cornered him, he tried to gun me down too, but I was faster." She was staring hard at Percy, daring him to challenge her statement. Percy just nodded at her, ultimately, he didn't find himself caring all that much if it had been a clean shoot or not, as far as he was concerned the son of a bitch deserved it.
"Let him rot," he said simply.
She kept staring at him, searching his face for something. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, "Listen Jackson, I like you. You seem like you have your shit together and that you're serious about your job." Percy looked at her speculatively but allowed her to continue, knowing that she was going somewhere with this, "But I need to be honest with you." Her tone gained a tight, poisonous edge to it, "This city is sick. All those rumors, about Gotham being a haven for corruption and slime? Well it's all true, doubly so when it comes to the department. Every other blueback is on somebody else's payroll, and it's dog eat dog. So I'm going to make something very clear to you; if I find out you're dirty, if you add to the problems of my city in any way, it won't be that Bat you have to worry about. It'll be me."
Her eyes blazing, and the ferocity behind her statement gave Percy genuine goosebumps. He wasn't intimidated, he had faced down far worse than the detective in his life, but he was still moved by the passion in her voice. She held genuine love for not just her job but for the city, and in that moment, Percy realized that he had made the right move in coming to Gotham, in spite of the situation a smile made its way onto his face. Here was somewhere that he could make a difference, where the part of him that screamed out at the injustices of the world could fight back in a meaningful way.
He kept her stare, still smiling, "The innermost circle of hell is reserved for betrayers, mutineers." His expression changed steely to match Montoya's, "There is little I resent more on this world, than those who turn their backs on their comrades for personal gain. You have nothing to worry about from me."
Montoya just looked at him for several more seconds, dissecting his expression and reading his eyes. She had always been good at reading people, it was part of why she was so good at her job, and she prided herself on it, but she didn't need to be good at reading people to understand that Percy was telling the truth. She had only known him a short time, but he was the type to wear his heart and emotions on his sleeve, and she knew that he was honest. Satisfied, she nodded, and asked, doing everything in power to remain stern and serious, "But I have one more question to ask you," she paused for dramatic effect, "Did you really just quote Pirates of Caribbean to make your point?"
Percy just laughed, and awkwardly rubbed at spot behind his ear, "Maybe," he admitted. With her piece said, Montoya set about doctoring her stack of hotcakes. Percy himself began digging into his mountain of hash. As he ate, he considered his next step. Montoya had just dumped a lot on him, it was a show of trust. She hadn't needed to tell him about Allen, but she did, because she wanted their still very young partnership to work. He sighed as he ate, he knew he should give something as well, it was a necessary step. Swallowing a mouthful, he dabbed his mouth with a napkin and steeled his nerves. He had made an active effort to not think about Roger or Metropolis since the attack, but maybe this would be good for both of them. Bottling up his emotions had never worked well for him, and he needed to show Montoya the same kind of trust she had shown him. Besides, it wasn't like what had happened was all that secretive, it was all public knowledge, it was just something he didn't like thinking about.
He had wanted to ease into the conversation, gently guide things the way he wanted it to go. Unfortunately, Percy was far from eloquent, and the signals from his brain never quite made it to his mouth, so what ended up coming out was, "Superman killed my last partner."
Montoya choked on her mouthful of pancakes, and began hacking and coughing violently. Pounding her chest with her fist, she eventually got her coughing under control, "Metro!" She said in surprise, and Percy winced, "The fuck was that?" she demanded,
Percy groaned and hurried his face in his hands, "Sorry Monty," he said apologetically, "I'm uh, not that great at this sort of thing."
Montoya wiped a few stinging tears from her eyes, and took a small sip of her coffee, "You want to run that by me again, because it sounded like you said that SUPERMAN, killed your partner."
Percy's expression morphed, changing from apologetic to mournful. "No," he corrected, "No, you heard right."
It was Montoya's turn to place her utensils down, and give Percy her direct attention, "Explain," was all she said.
Percy nodded, steadying himself as he tried to get his thoughts in order. "I don't know how much they told you when we got put together," Percy started, his attention on his half-eaten plate, it was a rhetorical question and Montoya knew that Percy wasn't expecting an answer, "But I was in Metropolis for the attack." He paused as his right hand started seizing up, it had been doing that since his return from overseas. Gripping his right hand in his left, he focused his attention on the shaking appendage and simply allowed the words to flow.
"It was a Sunday, end of one of our shift schedules. Roger's wife, Kendra, always liked to have a big dinner together at their place on the night of the last day of our shifts, she liked to call them family dinners." Percy smiled, a sad and melancholic expression, "I was running late, had spent a little longer at the station finishing up our report," Percy snorted a little, "Roger liked to call it me, earning my keep as the 'young buck in the precinct', and always made me do our follow-ups but really, he was just being lazy." He had managed to get his shaking hand calmed down enough that Percy could grip his coffee mug, the warmth of the drink had a calming effect.
"It's hard to describe what it's like, you know, when he fights something." There was no need to explain who HE was, Montoya knew who Percy was talking about. "Everything is always so calm and then it's not. It's cliché but it really is like someone just flips a switch. One second everything is normal, and then the next the entire world is shaking, windows are breaking, cars are being thrown around." Percy shook his head like a dog drying itself, trying to clear the images away from his vision,
"I was only a block away from their apartment when it started, I'll never forget it; it was sunny, hot as hell, we were in the middle of a heat wave, and then suddenly the building next to me just exploded." He laughed, hallow and mirthless, "It's actually kind of funny in a sick kind of way, how well conditioned Metroplites are to those kinds of things. Sure, there's panic, and confusion, but it's controlled, you know? Everybody just understands that they need to get out of the hot zone and to the bunkers as quickly as possible."
"Bunkers?" Montoya interrupted, confused.
Percy just nodded, "Yeah, I guess it's not super well known but a few years ago the governor authorized a massive government grant to Metropolis to build doomsday shelters,"
Montoya's eyes widened in understanding, "Is that because of-"
"Doomsday, yeah," Percy confirmed, "There's about a dozen spread out throughout the city, and there are actual drills the city runs on a monthly basis so everyone always knows where the nearest bunker is. Anyways, people are bolting to the nearest shelter, and, well, I'm not proud of how I reacted," Percy said and he genuinely looked a little ashamed of himself, "I should have been working with the patrolies on crowd control, but I was too worried about Roger and his family. See there are supposed to be these sirens that go off when Blue is destroying the city, but they weren't working for whatever reason. So instead of working the crowd, I just took off on foot for Roger."
"You find him?" Montoya asked, her own food forgotten as she became engrossed in the story.
Percy nodded, "Yeah, I found them. They had been hearing the commotion and were in the process of leaving when...when the building started to collapse." His fingers clenched painfully, and it took almost all of his concentration to mind his strength and not break the mug in his hand.
"I didn't find out what happened until later; Big Blue got knocked clean through the first floor of the building, and took out almost every base-level support structure on his way through. We were on the seventh floor; it wasn't like they could just jump." Montoya didn't miss how he used 'they' instead of 'we', but set it aside for the moment, "It was like the walls were just crumbling away. I remember the floor shifting under our feet, and then the westward wall just peeling away."
His gaze turned haunted, as some of the light in Percy's otherwise very bright orbs dimmed, and in an instant, Montoya watched a man age in front of her, as Percy's outward demeanor became similar to someone whose age was far more accelerated than his twenty-six years.
"Kendra and the kids had been against the wall when it fell away." He said, "One second they were there, and then they just weren't." Percy inhaled deeply. Having never actually spoken aloud what happened, what he was experiencing now was both tremendously therapeutic, and horrendously painful all at once. The wall he been determined to build around that nightmare was collapsing and the flood of emotions was rapidly becoming overwhelming, but he pressed on.
"I'm no stranger to death. You live the kind of life that I have and you become, I don't know, desensitized to it. But it's different when it's a civilian you know? When it's another cop, or a member of your fireteam, it hurts but it's not as shocking right? Because that's the job and that's the risk that comes with it, but when it's someone totally innocent like that..."
Montoya understood him completely. Living in Gotham, especially in the era of the Bat, she had seen her fair share of death. The loss of life was always tragic, but Percy was right, when someone lost their life in the line of duty, it was tragic, yes, but it was an unfortunate risk. A risk that they all understood when they took on the job. But civilians never agreed to those risks. They were forced into situations that threatened their lives by beings with powers that, prior to maybe twenty years, most thought of as little more than sheer fantasy. It was unfair, and all the more tragic that someone should lose their life because of the actions of beings well-beyond their control or understanding.
"Part of me hopes that Roger didn't see it happen, didn't have to see his wife and children sucked out of the building and fall to their deaths, but I'm sure he did." Percy continued, ignorant to Montoya's own internal monologue. "I guess it's just lucky that he probably didn't have to think about it for very long. The ceiling collapsed. Buried him. I don't really remember what happened after that, hell, I don't even know how I made it out of that mess in one piece. I remember the world shaking, I remember the impact, and then nothing. I woke up in Metro General a few days later."
He fell silent after that, as did Montoya. Percy didn't expect her to say anything, she didn't need to. Percy hadn't shared what had happened as some sort of sick competition of, "who's had the worse life," but rather to illustrate his desire to show to her that he wanted to trust her, and that she could trust him.
With the mood at the table becoming depressing as all hell, Percy picked up his fork again, and started in on his cold hash. They ate in silence for a few minutes, both just digesting the emotional release they had experienced. After a while, Montoya spoke up, "Ok, I'm sorry, I hate to bring it back up but there's something about your story that's bugging me."
Percy just nodded at her as he took another bite, indicating he was fine with answering whatever questions she had. "You said that Superman killed your partner, and yeah, it was his body going through the support pillars that caused the building to collapse, but I find it pretty hard to believe that Superman, of all people, would willingly be tossed through a building."
Percy nodded, having expected the question. It was a valid point, one shared by most of Metropolis, if not by the Metropolis Police Department.
"How well do you know your geography?" Percy asked, a little abruptly.
Montoya just looked at him in utter confusion, but Percy just rolled his eyes as he took another bite of food, and made a 'just answer it' gesture with his fork.
"Same as anyone I guess?" she asked more than said, still bewildered by the seeming change in topic.
Percy shook his head, "Alright, what's north of Metropolis?" he asked,
And immediately, Montoya thought she knew where he was going with this; but she decided to play along, because Percy had gained a rather vicious gleam in his eye, "I don't know," she answered,
"Alright," Percy said, "How about south of Metropolis, or east or west?" he asked,
Again, she didn't know.
"Metropolis, is in upstate New York, the nearest town, is nearly one hundred miles away. Metropolis is further north than Toronto, it's basically a small isolated haven, in the middle of Canadian wilderness." Percy said, his tone hard, "For fifty miles in any direction, there is nothing but wilderness. And only a few thousand miles to the east? The Atlantic, goddamn, Ocean."
"Metro-" Montoya tried to say, but Percy cut across her, slamming a palm down on the table with such a loud smack, that the other inhabitants in the diner all turned to look, but Percy ignored them.
"So why the hell," Percy ground out, "Why in the name of all that is holy, does that lunatic insist on fighting these world-ending psychopaths in the middle of the fucking city?" he hissed, Montoya tried to interject, but Percy had built up a full head of steam by now, "The man can circumnavigate the globe in like a minute, so why doesn't he just lead those lunatics away from the city?" Montoya didn't even bother trying to answer, she knew it was rhetorical, "Does he honestly think that those guys are interested in anything other than him?" he asked, "We aren't talking about gangbanger or bank robbers, we are talking about beings that can fight him on an even playing field. They would follow him, so why doesn't he leave? I'll tell you." he said, not even bothering to wait for an answer,
"It's because he's arrogant. I don't think he's even aware of it. Honestly, I can't even really blame him, if I could do the things he could, I probably would be too, but the fact remains that he spends so much time solving problems faster than we can even blink, that he doesn't think for even a second, that any fight he's in would last long enough to bring about the kind of destruction that comes from his kind of fights. But the fact remains that this isn't the first-time half of the city has been destroyed from his fights. It's so damn infuriating, how many more people have to die before he figures it out? How many more times do the people of Metropolis have to pick up the pieces? SO, to answer your question, no Superman didn't kill Roger. He didn't kill Kendra, or Anthony, or Abigail. But his sheer arrogance, his inability to see the consequences of his actions got them killed, and to me, that's the same thing."
Percy was panting in rage. It was a shocking sight, in the short time that Montoya had known him, Percy had appeared to be a very relaxed man, not one to get angered easily, or at least have a solid hold on it. But right now, it like looking at an enraged beast, his lips were curled back into what Montoya could only call a snarl, and a large vein on his neck was pulsing. It was unnerving, and not for the first time, Montoya thought that his eyes were literally glowing. Out of the corner of her eye, Montoya would swear that the water in the untouched cups on the table, was shifting slightly.
Her fear was showing on her face, and quick as a flash, Percy's entire demeanor changed. The glow in his eyes disappeared and the hardened edges of his features softened, and he became acutely aware of the aura that he was emanating.
"Sorry," he apologized immediately, once he had gotten himself under control. "I'm sorry, it's just so frustrating. I know Gotham has had its problems but, I can't remember it ever having to rebuild. Metropolis has had to literally be rebuilt, five times in the last eight years. I don't know," he sighed, rubbing at the back of his ear, "I just hate it, it's all so unnecessary. All the fighting, the death, the destruction, it's just too much."
"Wow.." was all that Montoya could say, and really what else was there for her to say. She couldn't remember anyone, outside talking heads on news networks, ever speak so critically or harshly about the Man of Steel.
Percy looked chagrined, "Sorry," he said, "It's just something that's been bothering me for a while, and talking like that in Metropolis is...not a very good idea."
"No, no, it's fine," Montoya was quick to amend. She didn't want him thinking he wasn't allowed to speak his mind around her. "It's just...I'm surprised. You really don't like him, do you?"
"I respect what he tries to do and what he has done," Percy was quick to say, "He's a symbol of hope for millions, if not billions of people. Many of whom have never had any reason to be hopeful before. He's done this world a lot of good, and he's saved the planet more times than we can count. It's not that I don't understand and appreciate that. But his actions, or his lack of action, have consequences, and, well I think he's brought as many problems as he's solved. How many world ending catastrophes have come about directly because of him, or any of the other big-name leaguers? It seems like every other month there's some kind of a new crisis or catastrophe." He just sighed in frustration. "I don't know, maybe I'm just jaded, but how long can this game go on? They make a mess and we have to clean it up."
Montoya didn't say anything. For the first time since they had met, she found herself pretty staunchly disagreeing with her partner. The Bat, hell the entire league, had done more for the safety and security of the planet than she could ever hope to do. It wasn't like she couldn't understand where Percy was coming from, and this talk had certainly been something of an eye-opener for her. Sure, she had seen the news coverage of what usually happened in Metropolis, but given the kind of hell that existed in Gotham on a daily basis, it had never really fazed her. But hearing a first-hand account of the kinds of things Percy had experienced in the city, gave her some perspective. If nothing else, however, it simply reaffirmed her own feelings on the League.
Jackson hadn't been in Gotham before the Bat. Had never experienced what it was like. When Batman and the rest of the League began to arise, the citizens of Gotham had been, for the first time, able to leave the house at night, and not be terrified of something horrible happening. She didn't think Jackson could understand or appreciate that, but she kept the thought to herself. It wasn't like the man didn't have a point after all. She had lost enough friends to the clown to know that some of these 'super villains' lived only as a challenge to their moral foils. But she felt that the good they brought about, more than outweighed the bad. But it wasn't her place, or her job to try and convince her partner of that. But still, it bothered her. She had experienced similar sentiments when she had worked with Bullock, and a part of her just couldn't comprehend how someone couldn't be pro-capes.
"So, do you not like any of the capes?" she found herself asking before she could stop herself,
Percy didn't respond immediately. Mostly because he wasn't all that certain as to the answer to the question himself. "I wouldn't say that." He eventually said, "I think they are inspiring to be sure. Especially the ones who can't, you know, bench an aircraft carrier. Anyone who is willing to put their life on the line for the sake of keeping people safe is worthy of respect to me. Even more so when that person is squaring off against something that could toss them into the sun. But they're not infallible. They make mistakes and to me that's the difference. When they screw up, when they make a mistake, the consequences are so much worse than if you or I screw up. Who holds them responsible? Where is the accountability? The League? I'm supposed to trust the league to police themselves? I'm sorry but I just can't do that."
Montoya couldn't help but get a little offended on behalf of the league. It was an irrational response, and yes, a part of her knew and understood that, but who was he to sit there and criticize the people that had saved the world more times than could be comprehended? How could he sit there and armchair quarterback the men and women who put it all on the line, every single day, fighting against the kinds of evils and terrors of the world that Montoya herself couldn't really imagine.
"So, what?" She asked, and even she was a little taken aback by the bite to her words, "You think you could do better?"
She wasn't sure what she had been expecting to that. A joke maybe, or maybe a sniping remark of his own. What she had not been expecting, was the look of defeat, and utter self-loathing that came over his visage. His eyes regained that haunted expression they had held earlier. He looked like a defeated man.
"No," he said, "No I guess not."
She didn't respond to that. What more was there to say?
They sat in silence for a while, neither talking, and both lost in thoughts. Montoya, thinking over the revelations her partner had revealed, and feeling just a touch guilty that she had unintentionally stirred up some very deep-seated, and likely terrible memories in Percy. While the man himself sat there, lost in his own memories. Memories of a time he had tried so desperately to forget. Memories of a life he had lost, because of his own inability to take action when it mattered most.
Checking his watch, Percy started, "Gods," he muttered to himself, and the strange curse brought Montoya out of her own thoughts, "We're going to be late if we stay here any longer." He said, "We need to head in." Montoya nodded. Percy pulled a few bills out of his pocket and deposited the payment on the table, waving off Montoya's offer to split the bill. Standing up the pair quietly exited the diner, each lost in their own thoughts, and made their way to the precinct to clock-in.
It was going to be a very busy day.
Should I continue this?
Word Count: 7468