anxiety-prime-max - Tumblr blog

anxiety-prime-max · 2 days ago

Text

The Secret of Us V

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist A/N: Guys i think this is my least favourite chapter, I had no motivation to finish it but i did because i want to start a new series, and i know if i started that without finishing this i would never finish this and i had already written half of this chapter yesterday which is why i like the first half but not the second half, the plot points in this chapter had been in my head since i started the story with the exception of one or two things, but mostly the same. This chapter was about closing all the plot holes and points which is probably why this was my least favorite chapter, and i for the love of god could not figure out a good way to end this series, im sorry if youre disappointed, cause i really did try :/ Warnings: Guns, Violence, Suicide, Murder, filicide, physical assault, blood, getting shot, super long chapter, really bad writing, psychological abuse and dark themes in general, angst, fluff, comfort Word Count: 11k approx? (too long) Summary: "What makes you think we won't just arrest your family anyway?" Batman's question was direct, testing.

"Because Jas–" You stopped, your composure cracking for just a moment. When you continued, your voice was steadier. "Because someone who works with you cared enough to warn me. And because you're here, listening, instead of just kicking down doors."

Bruce saw Nightwing glance toward the adjacent rooftop where Jason was positioned, listening to everything through their comms.

"The community projects," Gordon said, studying the plans again. "You really think you can make this work?"

"We have to," you said simply, your full figure straightening with determination. "Do you know what it's like growing up in the East End? Really growing up there, not just patrolling through it?" Your question was directed at Batman, and there was a challenge in it.

Batman stood on top of the rooftop of a building three blocks from the GCPD, you had requested to not meet at GCPD rooftop because your father probably had some cops in his pockets, and after James confirmed the names of them, Commissioner Gordon made a quick note of getting them off the squad as quickly as possible. He wanted the people of Gotham to be able to trust the cops, and if they couldn’t it was all slippery slope from there. So, as he and Nightwing stood there, waiting for you and James, his mind started to drift to Jason. His son, who had been killed by the joker and brought back by the lazarus pit. His son, who had been incredibly angry when he came back. His son, who didn’t care that he couldn’t save him. His son, who had been pissed that he hadn’t avenged him and that joker was still alive.

Coming back from the pit had done something to Jason, something irreversible, and he would never ever hold something like that against him. Jason had always been a little angry, a little pissed at the world. But the lazarus pit had somehow caused all of it to grow tenfold. He was angrier than Bruce had ever seen, more reckless, more..hardened.

It took a while for everyone to fix things up with each other, a good while before Jason was able to accept Tim as his new adoptive brother, he never did call Bruce his father, but Bruce did love him like his son. Jason was still angry, still closed off, but at least he was here, and that was all he could ask for at that moment.

Until they decided to look into the Castillo’s.

It felt like a switch had flipped inside of Jason ever since he started seeing you, and Bruce had thought that he just may have been adjusting well, maybe working together as a family was something that was helping Jason feel better, it never once occurred to him that it might’ve been you, because you weren’t something that Jason was actively discussing.

He had made a couple of mentions, gave debriefs to Tim about what he’d found out, showed up for patrol on time, and then gone back home like he always did. He just didn’t know Jason was going home to you.

So even if he was skeptical of you and your brother, even though he didn’t completely understand everything, he was going to try and salvage whatever he could of you, for Jason’s sake. Because despite everything, despite all that Jason had ever done, he was still his son, and Bruce would always love his son.

So, he waited on the rooftop with Commissioner Gordon and Nightwing, waiting for the two of you, as Jason stood on a nearby rooftop watching everything and hearing everything through the comms.

Bruce had refused to let him come for the meeting, knowing he was too emotionally compromised and they couldn’t ask the questions they wanted to if he played the role of an overprotective lover, so they had come to a compromise, and he listened to everything on a nearby rooftop.

He had only been waiting a few minutes, when the metal door to the roof burst open, and you stepped out from behind the door.

You were.. not what he expected. He knew what you looked like, of course he did, but in person you seemed.. much more, non- intimidating?

You didn’t look too well if he was being honest, your eyes were red rimmed and your dark circles may as well have been coffee stains on a white paper, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

A voice in the back of his head forced him to register the fact that it was probably because of Jason’s confession and everything Bruce made him do, and the guilt settled in the mind faster than a rock in water.

“Where is your brother?” he asked, his voice modulator on, and staring at you with a tilt of his head.

“He.. was supposed to meet me here, he didn’t show and he isn’t picking up my call, my dad was supposed to be meeting with him tonight, give him a final rundown on everything before he goes into bedrest.” you tell them, your hands shoved into your jacket pockets.

You shook your head, trying to get rid of all your intrusive thoughts, “He probably got caught up.”

Batman and Nightwing seemed to share a look that you either didn’t notice or ignored, and you took the files they’d asked for out of your bag.

“I am assuming Jason told you everything?” You asked, not meeting your eyes, a cold heaviness settling on your chest as you uttered his name.

“He did.” Nightwing replied, scanning you, “We’re trying to figure out how much of it is true.”

You scoffed at that, “Right, with how much lying seems to be in your job descriptions, why would you trust anything anyone says, right?”

The words were sharp, pointed, and Bruce realized you were taking a considerable risk mouthing off to them like this. But you also looked like someone who had run out of things to lose..

You opened the folder, spreading the documents across a nearby HVAC unit. "We were planning to start with the school. The foundation work is almost finished, Dad was having it built as a front for a nightclub, but the basic structure will work perfectly for what we need."

Bruce looked at the plans, much more detailed than the ones that Jason had brought home, and his belief that you weren’t lying kept solidifying.

"These budget projections," Gordon said, leaning closer to examine the financial documents. "Where's the funding coming from?"

"Legitimate businesses," you replied without hesitation. "James has been slowly converting Dad's assets for years. The construction company is clean now, we've been using it for actual construction projects, paying real wages, following all regulations. Same with the property management company and the restaurant."

"And your father doesn't know?" Batman's question was pointed.

Your face tightened, and you looked sideways before answering, "Dad sees what he wants to see. As far as he knows, James is being the perfect heir, expanding the business, making more money. He doesn't look too closely at the details as long as the numbers add up."

"That seems risky," Nightwing observed.

"Everything we've done has been risky," you said quietly, shrugging your shoulders, "But James and I decided a long time ago that we'd rather risk everything trying to fix this than live with what our family has done."

Bruce watched your face as you spoke. There was conviction there, but also bone-deep exhaustion. The kind that came from carrying a burden too heavy for one person.

"Tell me about the immunity deal," he said.

“James got in contact with Detective Harvey eight months ago, when he was looking into someone who worked for my dad, he made him a deal, my father and every single thing he’d planned, all of the documentation that he needed to convict him, in exchange for immunity for me and him.” you told them, Commissioner Gordon had been kept in the loop, but Detective Harvey was the one who knew all the details, and unfortunately he was on a vacation with his wife in Miami.

“We didn’t want to involve a lot of people. Dad has people in GCPD, we gave Detective Harvey a list of names. He said he wanted to handle the investigation carefully, make sure there were no leaks."

"The timeline matters," you continued, your voice taking on an urgent edge. "Dad has weeks left, maybe less. We can't start the transition before he dies, if his associates think James isnt going to maintain the status quo, they'll fight. People will get hurt."

"And if your father discovers what you're really planning?" Batman asked.

Your face went pale, and you flinched back like you’d been slapped, like even the thought of your dad finding out sent panic to your chest. "That can't happen. Dad... even dying, he's still dangerous when he feels betrayed. If he thought James was planning to destroy everything he built..."

You didn't finish the sentence, but Bruce understood. Robert Castillo might be dying, but he still had the power to hurt his children if he chose to.

"Where exactly do we fit into this?" Nightwing asked. "What do you need from us?"

"Honestly? Stay out of our way. Jason told me you were planning to move against dad in a week." you spoke bluntly, and that surprised them. "James and I have been working toward this for years. We have the legal framework, we have GCPD cooperation, we have the community support. We don't need Batman to swoop in and arrest everyone, we need time to make the transition work." "However," you continued, "if something goes wrong, if Dad finds out or if his associates try to stop us..." You looked directly at Batman. "We might need backup. People are going to get hurt if this goes sideways."

"What makes you think we won't just arrest your family anyway?" Batman's question was direct, testing.

Bruce saw Nightwing glance toward the adjacent rooftop where Jason was positioned, listening to everything through their comms.

"The community projects," Gordon said, studying the plans again. "You really think you can make this work?"

Bruce thought of his own childhood in Wayne Manor, of every advantage and opportunity that had been handed to him. "No."

"Kids there don't have choices. They have survival. Join a gang or get beaten up for not joining. Deal drugs or watch your family go hungry. Accept that violence is normal or become a victim of it." Your voice grew with every words, trying to get them to see sense in what you were saying. "James and I grew up with that. We know what it does to people."

You gestured toward the city below them. "These projects aren't charity, they're intervention. Give kids a place to go after school where they're safe. Give adults job training so they don't have to choose between crime and poverty. Give the community resources so they don't have to rely on people like my father."

"And you think converting your father's criminal empire will be enough?" Batman pressed.

"It's a start," you said firmly. "And it's better than leaving things the way they are."

"Commissioner," Batman said, turning to Gordon. "What's your assessment?"

Gordon was quiet for a long moment, studying the documents and your face. Finally, he nodded. "Detective Harvey briefed me on this months ago, and the cooperation has been genuine. The information they've provided has been solid. And frankly, this approach has a better chance of actually helping the East End than anything else we've tried."

"So you'll support the transition?" you asked.

"I'll coordinate with Detective Harvey and make sure GCPD doesn't interfere with your timeline," Gordon confirmed. "But I need complete transparency from here on out. No more compartmentalized investigations."

You nodded, relief visible in your shoulders. "Thank you."

Batman looked toward the adjacent building where Jason was positioned. His son had been right about you, about all of this. The mission parameters had been wrong from the beginning.

"We'll monitor the situation," Batman said finally. "If your father's associates become a problem, if anyone threatens the transition, we'll intervene."

"What about Jason?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, and a blush immediately rose up your chest. "I mean, his cover—"

"That's between you and him," Batman said quietly.

You looked away, pain flickering across your features. "There is no me and him. Not anymore."

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken understanding. Bruce thought about his son, alone on that rooftop, listening to the woman he loved dismiss their future with such finality.

"Time has a way of changing things," Nightwing said softly.

You shook your head. "Some things can't be changed. Some trust can't be rebuilt."

You couldnt trust Jason anymore, not when he had spent six months lying to you, if he didn’t have a change of heart, your brother could be dead, arrested or worse, and you couldn’t have let that happen, not to James, he was the one person in the world who you’d actually kill for, and if the thing you were supposed to kill were your feelings for Jason, you’d do it a thousand times over.

"One more thing," Batman said.

Batman and Nightwing exchanged a look. "We've been monitoring some chatter from your father's associates. There might be concerns about James's... loyalty to the family business."

The blood drained from your face. "You think Dad suspects something?"

"We think he might be testing something," Batman said carefully. "Testing James's commitment."

You were already pulling out your phone, dialing James's number. It went straight to voicemail. You tried again with the same result.

"Shit," you whispered. "Shit, shit, shit."

"Where would this meeting be taking place?" Nightwing asked.

"The house. Dad's study." Your hands were shaking now as you tried James's number a third time. "He never turns off his phone. Never."

Bruce saw the exact moment when your composed facade cracked completely. The careful control you'd maintained throughout the entire meeting shattered, and suddenly you looked exactly like what you were—a terrified sister who thought her brother might be in danger.

"We need to go," you said, already moving toward the roof access. "If Dad knows, if he's figured out what James is really planning—"

"If your father suspects betrayal, walking into that house could get you both killed."

You stopped, the reality of the situation hitting you. "Then what do we do?"

Batman was already activating his comm. "Red Hood, report."

Jason's voice crackled through the comm, tight with concern. "On my way to the Castillo house. If James is in trouble—"

"Wait for backup," Batman ordered.

"Bruce," Jason's voice was strained, "if something happens to her brother because we were too cautious—"

"Nothing is going to happen to James," Bruce said, looking directly at you. "We're going to get him out of there."

You stared at Batman, this figure of urban legend who had just promised to save your brother. "Why? Why would you help us?"

Bruce thought about Jason, about the man his son had become when he thought he'd found love. About the plans spread across that rooftop, about communities that deserved better than the cycle of crime and poverty that had trapped them for generations.

"Because it's the right thing to do," he said simply.

And for the first time since you'd stepped onto that rooftop, you looked at the both of them with something akin to hope.

"Commissioner, I want GCPD units ready but holding position, we might need them for cleanup." Batman turned to you. "You're coming with us."

"Batma–" Nightwing started.

"She knows the house layout better than anyone. And if James is in trouble, he'll trust her voice." Bruce looked at you seriously. "But you follow orders exactly. No heroics, no improvisation. Understood?"

You nodded, determined, "Understood."

As Batman led you toward the roof's edge where his grappling equipment waited, you couldn't help but think that six hours ago, you'd thought your life couldn't get any more complicated.

You'd been wrong about that, too.

"Staff entrance is on the east side," you whispered, kneeling beside Batman and Nightwing behind the garden wall. "There's a service corridor that leads directly to Dad's study without going through the main house."

"Security?" Batman asked.

"Dad dismissed most of the household staff last week. Said he wanted privacy for his final weeks. There should only be two guards inside, Marcus and Tony. They've been with the family for years."

Batman's jaw tightened. Dismissed staff meant fewer witnesses. It also meant fewer people who might intervene if Robert Castillo decided his son needed to be taught a lesson about loyalty.

"Red Hood, position?" Batman spoke into his comm.

"North perimeter. I can see the study windows, lights are on, but I can't make out movement from this angle."

"Maintain position until we're inside."

You looked toward the house, fear and determination in your expression. "If Dad has hurt James..."

"We won't let that happen," Nightwing said quietly.

Batman studied the mansion's layout, comparing it to the blueprints Tim had provided. "The service corridor, how exposed is it?"

"Not very. Dad had it built so staff could move around without being seen by guests. There are cameras, but James gave me the security codes months ago."

Another piece of evidence that you and James had been planning this transition for a long time. Batman filed that information away for later.

"Move," he ordered.

The service entrance was exactly where you'd indicated, hidden behind a screen of ornamental shrubs. You produced a key card and punched in a security code with steady fingers despite your obvious fear and the door clicked open, "Stay between us," Batman ordered as they slipped inside.

The service corridor was narrow and carefully thought out, a sharp contrast to the mansion's grandeur main areas. Your footsteps were nearly silent on the carpeted floor as you led them through a maze of passages that connected the kitchen, staff quarters, and main house.

"Up ahead," you whispered, pointing to a door marked 'Private.' "That leads to the hall outside Dad's study."

Batman held up a hand, signaling for silence. Through the door, they could hear voices, raised, angry, and all too familiar.

"- told you I raised you better than this!" Robert Castillo's voice was hoarse but furious.

"Dad, please, just listen—" James sounded desperate, afraid.

You straightened at James’ scared voice, you’d never heard your big brother sound so.. small.

"Listen? To more lies?" Something crashed,glass breaking against a wall and you flinched, "You think I'm a fool, James? You think I don't know what you've been planning?"

Batman looked at you and saw his own fear reflected in your eyes. They were too late. Robert knew.

"I don't know what you mean," James was saying, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Detective Harvey," Robert spat. "You think I don't have people watching the police? You think I don't know about your little immunity deal?"

You went white as a sheet.

"Dad—"

"You want to tear down everything I've built! Everything I've sacrificed for! You want to turn my life's work into some bleeding-heart charity project!"

"It doesn't have to be this way," James said, and there was steel in his voice now despite the fear. "You could be part of this. Your legacy could be –"

"My legacy is power!" Robert roared. "My legacy is respect! My legacy is a family that understands loyalty!"

Another crash, and this time James cried out.

You started forward, anger filling you as you heard James being hurt, unable to hold back anymore but Batman caught your arm. "Not yet." Batman whispered.

"He's hurting him –"

"We go in unprepared, we might get James killed."

Through the door, they could hear Robert's heavy breathing. The cancer was taking its toll, but apparently hadn't caused him to hold back from hurting his family.

"You're going to call Detective Harvey," Robert said, his voice deadly calm now. "You're going to tell him you've changed your mind about cooperation. You're going to honor your family."

"I can't do that."

"You can and you will. Because if you don't, I'll make sure your sister pays for your betrayal."

Everyone stilled at the implication.

"You stay away from her," James said quietly.

"She's as guilty as you are. You think I don't know she's been helping you? You think I don't know about her meeting up with the architect?”

Batman felt you stiffen beside him.

"Bring her here," Robert ordered someone, one of the guards, presumably. "Let's make this a family reunion."

"She's not here," James said quickly. "She doesn't know anything about tonight."

"Don't lie to me, boy. She's probably listening at the door right now, isn't she? Just like when you were children."

Batman made his decision. "Nightwing, window approach. Red Hood, north window, wait for my signal."

"What about me?" you whispered.

Batman looked at you, this woman his son loved, this woman who was willing to risk everything to save her brother and transform her father's legacy into something good.

"You're going to walk through that door and trust us to keep you both alive."

Your eyes widened. "What?"

"He's expecting you. If you don't show, he'll know something's wrong. But if you walk in there..." Batman's mind was already working through the tactical possibilities. "Can you keep him talking? Give us time to position?"

You nodded, your face pale but determined. "How long do you need?"

"Two minutes."

"I can do two minutes."

Batman studied your expression, seeing the same determination that had driven you to plan community centers and schools in place of nightclubs and money laundering operations. The same strength that had let you confront Batman himself on a Gotham rooftop.

Jason had chosen well.

"On my mark," Batman said into his comm, then looked at you. "Whatever happens in there, remember, we're coming for you."

You took a shaky breath, straightened your shoulders, and reached for the door handle.

"Ready?" Batman asked.

You nodded once, then pushed open the door and stepped into the shark tank,

"Hello, Dad."

Your father looked exactly like what he was, a dying man clinging to power through sheer force of will. The cancer had caused hollows in his cheeks and turned his skin dull, but his eyes still burned with the same passion and intelligence that had built a criminal empire from nothing. He sat behind an enormous mahogany desk, oxygen tank beside his chair, while James stood across from him with blood trickling from a split lip.

Two guards stood at his back, Marcus and Tony, just as you'd predicted. Both men looked uncomfortable with the family drama but remained at their posts.

"There's my little girl," Robert said, his voice carrying a warmth that didn't reach his eyes. "Right on time."

James shot you a look of pure panic. "You shouldn't be her–"

"Shut up," Robert snapped, then turned back to you with that same terrifying smile. "Come in, sweetheart. We're having a family discussion about loyalty."

You stepped further into the study, hyper aware of Batman and Nightwing positioning themselves just outside the door. Two minutes. You just had to keep him talking for two minutes.

"I heard you weren't feeling well," you said, forcing yourself to sound calm. "Maybe we should let you res–"

"Rest?" Robert laughed, the sound turning into a coughing fit that left specks of blood on his handkerchief. "I'll have plenty of time to rest soon. Right now, I want answers."

"Dad—"

"Did you know?" he asked, cutting you off. "About your brother's little plan to destroy everything I've built?"

The question hung in the air like a blade. You could lie, try to protect James, but Robert's eyes were sharp despite his illness. He would see through any deception.

"I knew he wanted to make changes," you said carefully. "After you're gone."

"Changes." Robert's voice was poisonous. "He calls turning my empire into a charity a 'change.'"

"People need help, Dad. The East End–"

"The East End needs order! It needs strength!" Robert slammed his fist on the desk, sending papers scattering. "I pulled myself up from nothing in that neighborhood. I gave people jobs, protection, purpose. And this is how my children repay me?"

"By trying to help people legally instead of —"

"Instead of what? Say it." Robert's eyes blazed. "Instead of being a criminal? Is that what your brother has been telling you? That I'm just a common criminal?"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. James was shaking his head frantically, trying to signal you to stop, but you couldn't back down now.

"I think you're a man who did what he thought he had to do," you said carefully, your words pleading and desparate, "But times have changed. We can do better now."

"Better." Robert stood slowly, his breathing labored. "You want to know about better? When I was twelve, I watched my father die in a factory accident because the bosses cut corners on safety. No compensation, no support for my mother and sisters. Just 'sorry for your loss' and a pink slip."

He moved around the desk, each step deliberate despite his weakness. "When I was sixteen, I watched those same factory owners live in mansions while families in our neighborhood starved. The system didn't protect us. The law didn't help us. So I made my own rules."

"Dad, please–" James started.

"I built something from nothing!" Robert's voice rose again. "I made sure our people had work, had protection, had respect. I turned the East End from a place where good people got crushed into somewhere they could survive!"

"By crushing other people," you said quietly, and as soon as the words left your lips, you knew you’d fucked up because you could see the glint of anger that had solidified in your father’s eyes.

The slap had come fast, Robert's palm cracking across your cheek with surprising force for a dying man. You stumbled backward, tasting blood, and heard James shout in anger.

"You ungrateful little bitch," Robert snarled. "Everything you've ever had came from what I built. Your childhood, your education, your comfortable little life pretending to be better than your family, all of it paid for with blood money."

Ninety seconds. Where was Batman?

"I never asked for any of it," you said, your cheek burning.

"But you took it, didn't you? You took the money and the protection and then sat in judgment of the man who provided it." Robert's breathing was getting more labored, but his fury seemed to be helping him continue. "Just like your whore mother."

"Don't," James warned, stepping forward.

"Don't what? Tell the truth? Your mother thought she was too good for this life too. Thought she could just take my daughter and disappear, start fresh somewhere clean." Robert's smile was vicious. "But she found out what happens when you betray family."

Your eyes went cold. You'd been told your mother died in a car accident when you were three. James had been eight, old enough to remember more, but he'd never talked about it in detail.

"Dad," James's whispered softly, "You said—"

"I said what you needed to hear to keep you in line," Robert replied, barely glancing back at him, "But maybe it's time for the truth. Your mother tried to leave me, tried to take you both away from everything I'd built. So I reminded her what happened to people who stole from me."

The implication hit you like a physical blow. Your mother hadn't died in an accident. She'd been murdered. By your own father. Your chest began to heave, and you shook your hood, unable to believe the fact that your dad would’ve killed your mom, "You're lying," you whispered.

"Am I? Ask your brother. He was there when I explained to her why running away wasn't an option."

I looked at James's face that had turned pale, his hands clenched into fists.

One minute. Batman, where the hell are you?

"So here's what's going to happen," Robert continued, moving back toward his desk. "James is going to call Detective Harvey and withdraw his cooperation. Both of you are going to commit to honoring the family legacy as I intended. And if you refuse..."

He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a pistol, old but well-maintained.

"You'll join your mother."

The gun wasn't pointed at anyone yet, but its presence changed everything. Marcus and Tony shifted uncomfortably, they'd signed up to be enforcers, not accessories to filicide.

"Robert," Marcus said carefully. "Maybe we should –"

"Should what? Let my children destroy everything I've worked for? Let them turn my life's work into some charity case?" Robert's grip on the gun was steady despite his illness. "I built this empire for them. If they won't accept it, they don't deserve to live."

"Dad, please," James said, his voice breaking. "We can work something out—"

"There's nothing to work out. You're either with the family or you're against it. And if you're against it..." He raised the gun, pointing it directly at your chest. "You're dead."

Time slowed. You saw James start to move, saw the guards tense, saw Robert's finger begin to squeeze the trigger.

Then the world exploded into chaos.

The study's tall windows shattered inward as Red Hood came crashing through in a shower of glass and gunfire. His twin pistols were already blazing, sending Marcus and Tony diving for cover as Batman burst through the door behind you.

"Get down!" Nightwing shouted, tackling you to the floor as Robert's gun discharged into the ceiling.

James lunged across the desk at his father, desperation overriding fear as he fought for control of the weapon. They crashed to the floor together, James younger and stronger but Robert fighting with the fury of a dying man who had nothing left to lose.

Red Hood rolled to his feet, glass crunching under his boots as he leveled his guns at the two guards. "Stay down!"

Marcus and Tony, both veterans of Gotham's criminal underworld, took one look at the Red Hood's imposing figure and decided surrender was the better option, and left as soon as they saw an opening.

"James!" you screamed as you saw Robert get his gun hand free and press the barrel against your brother's temple.

"Nobody moves!" Robert gasped, using James as a human shield as he struggled to his feet. "Nobody fucking moves or he dies!"

Your heart felt as if it was going to leap out of your chest as you put your hands in front of your body as if to calm down a wild animal.

The room went dead silent except for Robert's labored breathing and the distant sound of sirens approaching. Commissioner Gordon's backup units, right on schedule.

Batman stepped forward slowly, his hands visible too. "Robert, let's talk about this."

"Talk?" Robert's laugh was bitter. "What's there to talk about? My own children want to destroy everything I've built. My own son wants to turn my empire into a charity case."

"Because it's the right thing to do," James said quietly, even with a gun pressed to his head.

"Right for who? For the cops who'll take credit for cleaning up the East End? For the politicians who'll use it as a photo opportunity?" Robert's voice was growing weaker, but his grip on the gun remained firm. "You think the system will protect those people any better than I did?"

"It has to be better than this," you said, despite Nightwing's attempts to shut you up. "It has to be better than murder and fear and children growing up thinking this is normal."

"This is normal!" Robert shouted. "This is the world! The strong survive and the weak get crushed, and if you're not willing to do whatever it takes to protect your family, then you deserve what happens to you!"

Red Hood had been slowly circling during the conversation, trying to get a clear shot that wouldn't endanger James. Now he was directly behind Robert, but the angle was still too risky.

"Is that what you told yourself when you killed our mother?" The words came out before you could stop them, raw with pain and fury. "That it was protecting the family?"

Robert's face twisted with something that might have been grief or rage. "Your mother was going to get you both killed. She was naive, just like you. She thought she could just walk away from this life, take my children, and there wouldn't be consequences."

"So you murdered her."

"I protected my legacy!" Robert's voice cracked. "I protected you! Do you think the Maronis would have let you live if they'd found out where you were? Do you think the Falcones would have just ignored you? Your mother's idealism would have gotten you killed before your fifth birthday!"

"That wasn't your choice to make," James said quietly.

"Everything about your lives has been my choice to make! I'm your father!"

"No," you said.

"You're a murderer who happened to contribute some DNA."

Robert's face went purple with rage. "You want to know what your precious mother's last words were?"

Bruce’s heart went cold, his own mind reverting back to the night his parents were killed, and he was that little kid again, back in Park Row district, watching as the man shot both his parents and left him an orphan, but he couldn’t focus on that right now, he had to help you and your brother.

"Stop," Batman said sharply.

Your breath hitched in your throat at your dad’s words, "She begged," Robert continued ignoring him, his voice venomous. "She begged for her children's lives. And I told her that her children would be safe as long as they remembered who their family was. Looks like I was wrong."

The gun swung away from James toward you.

Red Hood moved.

But Robert had been expecting it. The dying man's reflexes were still sharp enough to track the vigilante's approach, and he spun toward the window, using James as a shield while firing blindly in Red Hood's direction.

The bullet caught Jason in the shoulder, spinning him around and sending him crashing into the wall. His helmet flew off on impact, clattering across the floor to land at your feet.

And suddenly you were staring at Jason Todd's face, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead, his green eyes wide with pain and something that looked like terror—not for himself, but for you.

"Jason?" The word came out as barely a whisper.

Time seemed to freeze. Red Hood was Jason. Your Jason. The man you'd loved, the man who'd lied to you, the man who'd just taken a bullet meant for your brother, was a vigilante.

"Well, well," Robert said, his voice filled with vicious satisfaction despite his labored breathing. "Jason Todd."

The sound of his real name on your father's lips snapped you back to the present. Robert still had his gun trained on James, but now his attention was divided between his son and the wounded vigilante.

"You know, I did some research on your little boyfriend after you brought him to the gala," Robert continued conversationally, as if he wasn't holding his own children at gunpoint. "Imagine my surprise when I found out he was Bruce Wayne's ward. The one who died and came back to life, and now who has become the Red Hood."

The casual use of the name hit you like a physical blow. Red Hood. Jason was the Red Hood, the vigilante who'd been cleaning up Crime Alley with methods that made even Batman uncomfortable. The one the news called violent, uncompromising, willing to kill.

Your sweet, gentle Jason was a killer.

"I'm here," Jason said, his voice steady despite the blood loss, "because I love her. And I'm not letting you hurt her."

Robert's laugh turned into a coughing fit that left more blood on his handkerchief. "Love? You don't even know what that word means, boy. Love is what I had for my wife before she tried to betray me. Love is what I have for my children, even when they disappoint me."

"Love isn't murder," you said quietly, finding your voice at last.

"Isn't it?" Robert's grip on the gun tightened. "What do you think your boyfriend has been doing in Crime Alley? What do you think Red Hood is famous for?"

You looked at Jason, at this man you thought you'd known completely, and saw the truth in his eyes. He had killed people. Maybe not recently, maybe not while he'd been with you, but the capacity for violence was there, written in the set of his shoulders and the way he moved even while wounded.

Everything was a lie. Everything.

"I never wanted you to find out like this," Jason said, finally looking at you, his voice breaking slightly. "I wanted to tell you—"

"When?" you demanded, anger cutting through shock. "When exactly were you planning to mention that you're a vigilante who kills people?"

"I don't—I haven't—" Jason stumbled over the words, pain and blood loss making it hard to think clearly. "Not since I've been with you. I haven't killed anyone since I've been with you."

"How comforting," Robert said dryly. "A reformed murderer. Just what every father wants for his daughter."

"Shut up," James snarled, trying to elbow his father in the ribs. Robert's grip tightened, pressing the gun harder against James's temple.

"Careful, son. We wouldn't want any accidents."

That's when the rest of the cavalry arrived.

The study's second window exploded inward as Spoiler came crashing through, followed immediately by Batgirl through the third window. Robin dropped from the ceiling, apparently he'd been crawling through the ventilation system, while Red Robin came through the door behind Batman and Nightwing, having disabled the remaining guards in the hallway.

Robert's eyes went wide at the sudden appearance of what looked like half of Gotham's vigilante population in his study. "What is this, a convention?"

"It's over, Robert," Batman said, his voice carrying absolute authority. "You're surrounded, you're outnumbered, and you're dying. Let your children go."

"My children?" Robert's voice rose to a near-shriek. "These aren't my children! Children honor their father's legacy! Children show loyalty to the man who gave them everything!"

"Children grow up," you said quietly. "And sometimes they grow up to be better than their parents."

Something in Robert's expression shifted, became almost sad. "Your mother said something similar. Right before I put a bullet in her head."

The casual admission, so different from his earlier dramatic revelations, hit like a punch to the gut. But it also hardened something inside you. This man, this dying, bitter man, was not your father in any way that mattered. He was just the monster who'd controlled your childhood.

"You know what?" Robert said suddenly, his voice gaining strength. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it is time for children to be better than their parents."

Before anyone could react, Robert released James and turned the gun on himself.

"Maybe it's time for me to stop being a burden on your bright, shining future."

"Dad, no—" James started.

The gunshot was deafeningly loud, echoing off the study walls.

Robert Castillo crumpled to the floor behind his desk, blood pooling beneath his head. The gun fell from his lifeless fingers to clatter on the hardwood.

You stood there in shock, your eyes wide as they looked at the dead body of your father on the ground, blood slowly pooling around him.

For a moment, the room was completely silent except for the distant wail of sirens and James's sharp, shocked breathing.

"Is he —?" you whispered.

Batman knelt beside Robert's body, checking for a pulse that wouldn't be there. "He's dead."

You stared at your father's lifeless form and felt... nothing. No grief, no relief, just a hollow emptiness where some emotion should have been. The man who had terrorized your childhood, who had murdered your mother, who had just minutes ago held a gun to your head—was gone.

"I'm sorry," Jason said quietly, and you turned to see him leaning heavily against the wall, still bleeding. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Are you?" you asked, studying his face. "Are you really sorry he's dead?"

Jason's jaw tightened. "I'm sorry you lost your father."

"I lost my father years ago," you said flatly. "That was just Robert Castillo."

James was kneeling beside Robert's body now, his face pale but composed. "It's over," he said quietly. "It's finally over."

But you weren't sure it was over. Not for you. Not with Jason standing there bleeding, looking at you like he thought you might disappear at any moment.

"We need to get Red Hood medical attention," Batman said, all business now that the immediate threat was neutralized. "Robin, prep the Cave's medical bay—"

"No," you said sharply, everyone turning to look at you. "Absolutely not."

"Miss, he needs immediate medical care," Robin protested. "We have full surgical facilities—"

"Then call an ambulance. He's going to the hospital."

"The Cave is more secure," Batman argued. "Better equipped for this kind of wound—"

"I don't care." You crossed your arms, planting yourself firmly beside Jason. "He's not going anywhere I can't follow, and I'm sure as hell not going to some secret vigilante hideout."

"It would be better—" Nightwing started.

"For who?" you demanded. "Better for your security? Better for keeping your precious identities secret? Well, guess what, I don't give a damn about your secrets anymore. Jason is going to a real hospital with real doctors, and I'm staying with him."

Jason tried to straighten up, wincing with the movement. "Actually," he said weakly, "they're right. Hospital's... not safe for me."

You turned to stare at him. "What do you mean not safe?"

"Red Hood's wanted," Jason explained, his voice strained with pain. "Multiple warrants. The second I show up in a public hospital, GCPD will arrest me before they treat me."

"But—but you work with Batman—"

"Unofficially," Batman said grimly. "As far as the legal system is concerned, Red Hood is still a vigilante operating outside the law."

The reality hit you like a brick wall and you deflated like a balloon, of course Jason couldn't go to a hospital. Of course there were warrants. You'd been so focused on making sure he got proper medical care that you hadn't considered the legal implications of his vigilante identity.

"So what are our options?" you asked, looking between Batman and the increasingly pale Jason.

"The Cave has a full medical bay," Batman said. "Better equipment than most hospitals, and Dr. Thompkins is already on her way. She's treated all of us before."

You looked at Jason, who was starting to sway dangerously. "Is she a real doctor?"

"The best," Jason managed. "Trauma surgeon. She's... she's saved my life before."

"Miss Castillo," Batman's voice carried a warning tone. "Time is a factor here. Jason needs surgery now."

You stared at all the masked faces around you, at Jason bleeding beside you, at the impossible situation you'd found yourself in. Your father was dead, your entire worldview had been shattered, and now the man you loved needed medical care you couldn't get him through normal channels.

"Fine," you said finally. "But I'm going with him."

"That's not —" Robin started.

"Non-negotiable," you cut him off, your voice flat and final. "Jason goes nowhere without me. Period."

"Miss Castillo," Batman said carefully, "the Cave's location is classified—"

"Then I guess you'll have to trust me with it," you snapped. "Because I'm not leaving his side. Not after what just happened. Not after he took a bullet meant for me."

Batman and Nightwing exchanged a look that you couldn't interpret. Finally, Batman nodded once.

"Red Robin, bring the car around. Spoiler and Black Bat, clean up here and coordinate with Gordon's units. Robin, get back to the Cave and make sure the medical bay is prepped."

As the other vigilantes dispersed to their tasks, you found yourself alone with Batman, Nightwing, and an increasingly unconscious Jason.

"Why?" Batman asked, studying your face. "Why are you so determined to stay with him?"

You looked at Jason, at this man who'd lied to you about everything except the one thing that mattered most.

"Because he loves me," you said simply. "And I love him. And when someone you love is hurt, you don't abandon them just because the situation gets complicated."

Batman was quiet for a long moment. "The Cave... once you see it, there's no going back. You'll know things about us that could put you in danger."

"I'm already in danger," you pointed out. "My father's criminal empire just collapsed. His associates are going to be looking for someone to blame. And apparently, I'm dating the Red Hood, so I was probably never safe to begin with."

Nightwing actually chuckled at that. "She has a point, B."

"This isn't a joke," Batman said sharply.

"No, it's not," you agreed. "It's the most serious thing that's ever happened to me. Which is exactly why I'm not backing down now."

Jason's hand found yours, his grip weak but determined. "Let her come," he whispered. "Please. I need... I need her there."

Batman looked at Jason, then at you, then at Jason again. Finally, he sighed, a sound that somehow carried all the weight of his responsibilities.

"The car will be here in two minutes," he said. "You follow orders exactly. No questions, no arguments, no wandering off. Understood?"

"Understood," you said, relief flooding through you.

As Red Robin pulled up in what looked like an armored vehicle designed by someone with serious trust issues, you helped support Jason as they moved him toward the car. His weight against your side was reassuring, he was hurt, but he was alive, and you weren't going to let him out of your sight again.

"You sure about this?" Jason asked quietly as they loaded him into the back of the vehicle. "Once you see the Cave... everything changes."

"Everything already changed," you replied, climbing in beside him. "The question is whether we change together or separately."

Jason managed a weak smile. "Together sounds good."

The ride to wherever they were taking you was a blur of Gotham streets and increasing pain medication for Jason. You held his hand the entire time, watching his breathing and trying not to think about the fact that you were being driven to a secret location by people whose names you didn't even know.

When the vehicle finally stopped and you were ushered out into what looked like a cave system that belonged in a science fiction movie, you couldn't help but stare. The Batcave was enormous, filled with computer screens and vehicles and equipment you couldn't even begin to identify.

"Welcome to the Cave," Nightwing said, noticing your expression. "Try not to touch anything."

"Holy shit," you breathed, then immediately looked embarrassed. "Sorry. I just... this is really where you all..."

"Live? Work? Plan the salvation of Gotham?" A new voice spoke up, and you turned to see an older woman in medical scrubs approaching with a wheelchair. "All of the above, dear. I'm Dr. Thompkins. You must be the young lady who's been causing such a fuss about proper medical care."

"I just want to make sure he's okay," you said, helping transfer Jason to the wheelchair.

"Admirable," Dr. Thompkins said approvingly. "And you're absolutely right to insist on staying with him. Studies show that patients recover faster when they have emotional support."

She began wheeling Jason toward what was obviously a medical facility that looked like it belonged in the most advanced hospital in the world. You hurried to keep up, still overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the operation around you.

"Now then," Dr. Thompkins continued as she prepared Jason for surgery, "you'll need to wait outside during the actual procedure, but you're welcome to stay in the medical bay. There's a comfortable chair, and Alfred will bring you tea."

"Alfred?"

"The butler," Jason said weakly. "He practically runs this place."

As Dr. Thompkins wheeled Jason into the surgical suite, you found yourself alone in a medical bay that was somehow both incredibly advanced and oddly homey. There were get-well cards pinned to a bulletin board, family photos on the desk, and yes, a very comfortable chair positioned where you could see through the observation window into the surgical suite.

An elderly man in a pristine suit appeared as if by magic, carrying a tea service on a silver tray.

"Miss Castillo, I presume," he said with a slight British accent. "I'm Alfred Pennyworth. Master Bruce told me you might be joining us this evening."

"Is this all real?" you asked, gesturing around you. "The Cave, the medical bay, the fact that Bruce Wayne is Batman?"

"I'm afraid so," Alfred said, pouring you a cup of tea that smelled like heaven. "Though I should mention that you're taking it rather better than most people do."

"I'm not sure I'm taking it at all," you admitted. "I think I'm still in shock."

"A perfectly reasonable response," Alfred said kindly. "If I might offer some advice?"

You nodded.

"Master Jason has been... different since he met you. Happier. More hopeful. Whatever complications his identity may create for your relationship, please don't let them overshadow the good you've brought to each other."

Through the observation window, you could see Dr. Thompkins working on Jason's shoulder, her movements precise and confident. He was going to be okay. Whatever else happened, he was going to be okay.

"Alfred?" you said quietly.

"Yes, Miss?"

"When he wakes up, we're going to have a very long conversation about honesty and trust and what it means to be in a relationship with someone who fights crime in a mask."

"I expect you will."

"And when that conversation is over, assuming we both still want to make this work..." You took a sip of the excellent tea. "I'm going to need to learn how to exist in this world. How to be part of this family, if they'll have me."

Alfred smiled, the expression transforming his entire face. "Miss Castillo, I believe you're going to fit in here perfectly."

"Even though I'm stubborn?"

"Especially because you're stubborn," Alfred said warmly. "This family is always open for people who are willing to fight for what matters to them."

Through the window, you watched Dr. Thompkins work to save the man you loved, surrounded by the impossible reality of a secret cave and a family of vigilantes who had somehow become your family too.

It wasn't what you'd planned for your life. But as you settled into the comfortable chair to wait for Jason to wake up, you realized that maybe the best things never were.

Even if you had to be stubborn about it.

Jason woke up six hours later to the soft beeping of medical equipment and the feeling of someone holding his hand. The Cave's medical bay was dimly lit, designed to be soothing for recovering patients, but he'd recognize your silhouette anywhere.

"Hey," he said quietly, his voice hoarse from the anesthesia.

You turned from where you'd been watching the monitors, relief flooding your face. "Hey yourself. How are you feeling?"

"Like I got shot," Jason said, attempting humor despite the pain medication making everything fuzzy around the edges. "But alive. Thanks to Dr. Thompkins."

"She said you were lucky. A few inches lower and the bullet would have hit an artery." Your voice was steady, but he could hear the fear underneath.

Jason squeezed your hand gently. "I'm okay. We're okay."

"Are we?" The question hung in the air between you, loaded with everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. "Because I don't actually know who 'we' are anymore."

Jason's stomach clenched, and not from the surgery. "I'm still me."

"You're still the guy who lied to me about everything," you said quietly, pulling your hand free from his. "For six months, Jason. Six months of thinking I knew you."

"You do know me—"

"Do I?" You stood up, pacing to the observation window and back. "Because the Jason I thought I was dating was a guy who worked security construction. Not a vigilante who used to kill people for whom I was a mark."

The words hit like physical blows. Jason tried to sit up straighter, wincing as the movement pulled at his stitches. "I never lied about the important things."

"What's important to you isn't necessarily what's important to me," you shot back, then immediately looked sorry for the sharp tone. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to fight with you while you're recovering."

The two of you stayed silent for a moment before you continued,

"You have hurt people."

"Yes." There was no point denying it now. "I've killed people. Bad people, people who were hurting innocents, but... yes. I've killed."

You absorbed this, your face carefully neutral. "Recently?"

"Not since I've been with you," Jason said honestly. "Not in almost a year. I've been trying to... Batman's been working with me to find other ways."

"Other ways to what?"

"To get justice. To protect people. To make sure kids in Crime Alley don't grow up the way I did." Jason's voice grew stronger as he talked about something he was passionate about. "I know my methods haven't always been perfect, but the people I've gone after—they were monsters. They were hurting children, trafficking women, poisoning communities with drugs."

"So you appointed yourself judge, jury, and executioner."

Jason flinched. "It sounds terrible when you put it like that."

"How does it sound when you put it?"

The question forced him to really think, to examine his motivations in a way he usually avoided. "Like someone who was tired of watching the system fail the people it was supposed to protect."

You nodded slowly. "I can understand that. I've lived in the East End my whole life, I know how little protection the system offers people like us. But Jason, killing people... that changes you. It has to change you."

"It did change me," Jason admitted quietly. "But meeting you changed me too. Made me want to be better, do better. Made me think maybe there were other ways to help people."

"Is that why you've been working the Castillo case? To prove you could do it without killing?"

“Yeah.”

You sat back down, but didn't take his hand again. "Tell me about the night you died."

The request caught him off guard. "What?"

"Alfred mentioned that you died and came back. I want to know what happened."

Jason closed his eyes, the memories as vivid as if it had happened yesterday instead of years ago. "The Joker captured me. Tortured me for hours. Beat me with a crowbar until I couldn't move, then left me in a building with a bomb."

Your sharp intake of breath made him open his eyes. You looked pale but determined to hear the rest.

"Bruce tried to save me, but he was too late. I died in that explosion." Jason's voice was matter-of-fact, but you could see the pain in his eyes. "I was fifteen."

"How did you come back?"

"Ra's al Ghul used a Lazarus Pit to resurrect me. It brings people back to life, but it also... changes them. Makes them angrier, more violent. More willing to cross lines they wouldn't have crossed before."

You processed this information slowly. "So when you came back, you were different."

"I was furious," Jason said honestly. "At the Joker for killing me, at Bruce for not killing the Joker in return, at a world that let monsters like that keep breathing while good people died every day."

"And that anger made you willing to kill."

"That anger made me willing to do whatever it took to make sure other kids didn't suffer the way I did." Jason's voice grew heated despite his exhaustion. "Do you know what it's like to watch your father refuse to kill the man who murdered you? To watch him put that monster back in Arkham over and over again, knowing he'll just escape and hurt more people?"

"It must have felt like betrayal," you said quietly.

"It did. It felt like my life didn't matter enough to break his precious moral code." Jason laughed bitterly. "Took me years to understand that it wasn't about me not mattering. It was about Bruce being afraid that if he killed once, he wouldn't be able to stop."

"Do you still feel that way? About Bruce, about his rules?"

Jason considered the question carefully. "I understand his position better now. I don't always agree with it, but I understand it. And I've learned that there are other ways to get justice, other ways to protect people."

"Like what we were doing with the Castillo investigation."

"Exactly. Long-term solutions instead of short-term violence. Building something better instead of just tearing down what's broken." Jason looked at you hopefully. "That's what you taught me. That's what being with you showed me was possible."

You were quiet for a long moment, staring at your hands. "I need you to understand something, Jason. I grew up in a world where violence was normal. Where men solved problems with their fists or worse. My father ruled through fear and brutality, and I swore I would never be part of that kind of life again."

Jason's heart sank. "So this is over."

"I didn't say that." You looked up, meeting his eyes. "But I need to know that you're committed to being better. Not for me, but for yourself. Because I can't be with someone who might decide that killing is the easiest solution to a problem."

"I am committed," Jason said immediately. "I haven't killed anyone in almost a year, and I don't want to go back to that. I want to build the kind of life where violence isn't the first option."

"What does that look like? Day to day, I mean. If we... if we try to make this work, what does your life look like?"

Jason thought about it. "Patrol with the family. Following up on cases, gathering intel, stopping crimes in progress. But no killing, and I try to avoid seriously injuring people unless they're an immediate threat to innocents."

"And during the day?"

"I've been thinking about that actually." Jason managed a small smile. "Maybe I could help with your community projects. I know the East End as well as anyone, and I have contacts who could help with security issues."

"You'd want to do that?"

"I'd want to do anything that lets me spend time with you and help people at the same time," Jason said honestly. "That's the life I want, one where I'm building something good instead of just fighting against what's bad."

You stood up and moved to the observation window, looking out at the Cave's main area where you could see Batman and Robin working at the computer. "This place, this family... it's not normal."

"No, it's not."

"There are going to be more nights like tonight. More emergencies, more people trying to hurt the ones you love, more situations where you have to make split-second decisions about violence."

Jason nodded, even though you couldn't see him. "Probably."

"And I'll worry about you every single time you go out on patrol."

"I know."

You turned back to face him. "But you saved James tonight. You took a bullet meant for my brother, and you did it without hesitation."

"Of course I did."

"And earlier, when my father was waving that gun around, you didn't shoot him. Even though it would have been easier, even though it would have solved the problem immediately. You waited for another solution."

Jason felt a flicker of hope. "I've been trying to be the man you deserve."

"I don't need you to be perfect, Jason. I need you to be honest. About who you are, what you've done, what you're struggling with." You came back to his bedside, but didn't sit down. "Can you do that? Can you promise me no more lies, even about the ugly parts?"

"Yes," Jason said without hesitation. "I promise. No more secrets, no more lies. If you want to know something, I'll tell you the truth."

"Even if you think it'll hurt me?"

"Even then."

You studied his face for a long moment, and Jason held his breath. Everything depended on what you said next.

Finally, you sat down and took his hand again. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay, we try this. We try to build something real together, with complete honesty about who we both are." You squeezed his fingers gently. "But Jason, I need you to understand, I'm not just agreeing to date you. I'm agreeing to become part of this world, this family, this life. And that scares me."

Relief flooded through Jason so intensely he felt dizzy. "It scares me too."

"Good. It should scare us. Because if we're going to do this, we're going to do it right. No more pretending we're normal people living normal lives."

"What does that mean, practically?"

You smiled for the first time since he'd woken up. "It means I'm going to learn how to exist in a world where my boyfriend fights crime in a mask. It means we're going to have conversations about acceptable risk levels and emergency protocols. It means I'm probably going to meet more vigilantes and villains and morally ambiguous characters than most people encounter in a lifetime."

"Are you okay with that?"

"I'm going to have to be, aren't I?" You leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead. "Because I love you, Jason Todd. I love your passion for justice and your protective instincts and the way you make me believe we can actually change things. I even love your stubborn determination to throw yourself between danger and the people you care about."

"Even though it means you'll worry about me?"

"Especially because it means I'll worry about you. Because that's what you do when you love someone, you worry about them, you support them, and you choose to trust them even when they make decisions that scare you."

Jason brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "I love you too. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. And I swear to you, I will spend every day proving that you made the right choice in giving me another chance."

"You don't have to prove anything," you said softly. "You just have to be honest. About everything, from now on."

"I can do that."

"Good. Because we're going to have a lot to figure out. Like where we go from here with my father's businesses, how I fit into your family's operations, what our relationship looks like when patrol schedules and criminal investigations are part of our daily reality."

"One thing at a time," Jason said, exhaustion starting to pull at him again. "First, I heal. Then we figure out the rest together."

"Together," you agreed, settling back into the comfortable chair beside his bed. "I like the sound of that."

As Jason drifted back toward sleep, still holding your hand, he felt something he hadn't experienced in years: complete peace. The woman he loved knew the truth about him, all of it, and she was choosing to stay.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever complications came from merging your world with his, you would face them together. Honestly, openly, and with the kind of love that was strong enough to survive even the chaos of Gotham City.

It wasn't the life either of you had planned, but as Alfred had observed, maybe the best things never were.

---------------------------------------------- A/N: Goodbye, The Secret of Us, You will always be my first love <3

Taglist: @punksnotdeadbutiam @imdeloulou @softgirlspring @rue963 @mysticmoon-0107 @pastelcloudy28 @arrozyfrijoles23

60 notes · View notes

anxiety-prime-max · 2 days ago

Text

now that the series is over I would like to say that James Castillo was my favourite character that I’ve ever written.

The Secret of Us

Pairing: Jason Todd x Chubby!Reader

Status: Completed Warnings: suggestive content, mentions of violence, guns, typical DC stuff, crime family, angst, fluff, hurt, comfort, too many things happening, bad writing, this is mostly self indulgent, thanks.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

81 notes · View notes