aro-of-argentum

[aro-of-argentum]

Y’all ever write an entire bigass paragraph of a character’s internal thought process, and its so beautifully illustrates the way they’re trying SO hard but just missing the mark a little bit due to their lack of experience, and you think to yourself “wow, I think that develops the character really nicely and I think it will be impactful to be able to see their growth and acknowledgement of their shortcomings.” And then only AFTER all of that realize that you very intentionally chose NOT to include that person’s perspective in the fic, and now you have to find a way to attempt to portray all of that through actions and words visible to a character whose perspective you HAVE chosen to show? Just me? Can’t just be me.

Anyway wish me luck with trying to get reader to realize whats happening enough that they can accept the hand being offered to them.

[aro-of-argentum]

Suppression- Chapter 3

WC: 5,716

Notes: Bakugo builds furniture, Kirishima has a close call at work and then a hard conversation with reader about it, Bakugo starts to open up (not a lot, don't get too excited), a rough night followed by a rough day, and naps on the couch. This chapter contains talk of serious injury and accountability, but otherwise no major warnings

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar as always

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3:

The new coffee table was delivered a couple days later. The guys that brought the box up from the truck offered to assemble it. Bakugo declined. Because of course he thought he could build it himself. In fact, he’d insisted on it. And yet, when you got home from work, only a few hours after leaving, he was still sitting angrily on the floor, surrounded by pieces, glaring at the instruction booklet like it had personally offended him, and muttering to himself.

“Still going?” You asked as you stepped into the living room, arms crossed and eyebrow cocked in unsurprised amusement.

“Heh?” He didn’t even turn fully away from the papers he held, eyes still trailing over whatever section he was reading.

You shook your head slightly at his frustrated focus. “You need any help?” you offered.

“No,” He snapped like a child being asked if they needed a nap and you fought not to let your smile grow wider at his barely contained dismay. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work right now?”

“I went to work. I’m home now.” You sighed dramatically as you fell onto the couch behind him. “Short days are the best.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he grumbled, clearly still only half paying attention to the conversation as he attempted to decipher the instructions.

An overdone pout befell your face, though you knew he couldn’t see it when you started, “Oh poor baby, all amazing and powerful in the top ten. Is the fame and fortune really hard for you, or…?”

He turned then, slowly, jaw set, eyes with daggers in them as he looked over his shoulder to glare silently at you. You couldn’t help the snort and smile that made an appearance before you were able to collect yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you conceded. “I’m sorry. Your job is hard, it can be really dangerous, and you earned the place you have in the rankings, I know that.” You waited until after you saw him nod, saw him turn back around before adding, “So, how many offers of marriage came in your fan mail this week?”

Bakugo snarled and threw the instruction book at you, not hard, but enough to make a point. “Be useful or get out.”

You chuckled, picking up the booklet and asking, “What step are we on?”

It was almost complete by the time Eijirou made it home.

“Okay, so for the last screw, you have to wait until-”

“The drawer won’t close.”

“That’s because you didn’t wait to hear the instructions,” you snipped back before explaining, “You have to push the drawer in before you tighten up the last screw or you’ll interrupt the track. So, you need to unscrew it most of the way, push the drawer in, and then you can tighten the screw, because the drawer will stop it from going too far.”

“Fine, one second.”

It was the brief moment in which Bakugo was silent, twisting the final screw into place, that Eijirou came in. “I’m home!” he shouted from the front room.

“In here!”

“Yeah!”

The pair of you in the living room called back to him at the same time.

“It’s done,” the blonde grumbled.

“Yay!”

“What’s done?” Eijirou questioned when he walked in the room, though he immediately found his answer when his eyes landed on the project of the afternoon. “Oh nice! It looks really good, guys!” His smile was enough to light up the room, even though it was tired, and it made your heart swell just as it always did.

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted, reaching for him as he drew closer. His hand closed around yours as he bent over the back of the couch to press a soft but lingering kiss to your lips.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he responded with a mischievous smile, face still only a breath away from yours.

“Get a room,” Bakugo snarked as he stood up, collecting pieces of leftover packaging and other trash.

You turned to sass him back, only for your voice to get stuck when you noticed with confusion, as he was walking out of the room, that Bakugo’s ears were red. You shook the questions from your head as you turned back to your boyfriend hovering over you. “How was work?”

He grimaced. “You weren’t watching the news, were you?”

Your eyes went wide with worry. ���Eiji, what-”

“Nonononono,” he cut you off as he hopped the back of the couch and landed next to you, immediately pulling you into his lap to hug you close. “Don’t freak out, I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine, it was just a lot, and if you turn on the news it’s going to look way worse than it was.”

You searched his eyes, for an indication he was lying, for pain, for anything to tell you whether this was something for you to actually be worried about. And as you stared, you saw it. His gaze faltered. He was hiding something. “Talk,” you commanded, eyes narrowing as you prepared to evaluate him further.

“It really was nothing, baby, I-”

“Tell me the truth, Eijirou.”

The eye contact grew tense as he swallowed, hard, as though he was debating whether to drop his palm onto a hot stove. Eventually though, he broke. “While I was chasing down a villain today, it’s uh… possible, that a small, very small, building fell on me?” He rushed through the last few words as though saying them quickly would minimize your reaction. It didn’t.

“WHAT?” you shrieked, and it immediately brought Bakugo back around the corner.

“Oi! Quit screaming, what’s your issue?”

Your attention snapped to the blonde, though your hands stayed firmly planted on your boyfriend’s shoulders. “A villain dropped a building on him today!”

“EXCUSE ME?”

Eijirou shrunk under the weight of the stares boring down on him.

“What happened to being more careful on missions?” you questioned, tone bordering on accusation.

“If I didn’t cut through there, then he would have gotten away, and I was Unbreakable anyway so-”

“Your damn quirk doesn’t make you invincible, dumbass!” Bakugo shot back.

“I mean it kinda does…” Eijirou muttered, though the sentiment died in his throat at the look in your eyes.

“Eiji, it’s not about whether your quirk can take a falling building. It’s about what if you hadn’t activated it in time, or what if you got trapped and your endurance ran out before someone found you, or what if it’s a bigger structure next time and your quirk can’t take it?” You searched his eyes again, pleading with him to understand. “I know what your job is, I know the risks, but you have to be careful, Eijirou. I need you to keep coming home.”

He nodded eagerly, nothing but reassurance in his eyes before he pulled you back into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. “I know. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Next, you heard Bakugo’s voice, still from the entryway to the kitchen, irritation laced all through his tone. “This article says Suneater caught him a block away from where you were.”

Eijirou went stiff in your grasp like he could feel the oncoming fury.

You started to pull away so you could look him in the eyes, and you knew he felt it, given the way he squished you further into his chest. You proceeded with your question anyway. “You had backup nearby you knew could probably catch him, and you did the reckless thing anyway?”

“I didn’t know the building was going to come down!” he defended, though it was entirely useless because Bakugo began to read aloud.

“‘The villain, upon seeing Red Riot was still in pursuit, detonated explosives behind him in a clear attempt to collapse the building. Red Riot bravely followed the criminal anyway, and despite being trapped briefly in the debris, we are happy to report Red Riot is okay.’”

“Eijirou-”

“I swear I didn’t know!”

“So, you weren’t paying attention at your super dangerous job,” Bakugo barked from his place.

“Dude!” Eijirou pleaded over your shoulder, still doing his best to hold you to his chest so he wouldn’t have to look you in the eye for this. But his resolve to defend himself disintegrated the moment he felt water, tears, hit his shoulder. “Baby, I’m okay,” he tried to reason, finally giving you the space you’d been trying to create so he could see you. “And I’m so, so, sorry. I-”

You silenced him with a raised hand and a refusal to look at him. “I am angry with you.” There was a finality to your statement that came largely from your efforts at keeping your emotion from shaking your voice. Tilting your head back slightly to blink away new tears, you continued, “But I need a minute to calm down before we talk about this.” You got off his lap and the couch, pausing where you stood in front of him to say, “So, I’m going to the bedroom, and when you’re ready to have an actual conversation about it, you come talk to me. Good?”

“Yeah.” The word came out barely above a whisper, shame all over the man’s face.

You nodded, grinding your teeth together in an attempt to regain your composure as you walked from the room. You could only offer Bakugo a half-hearted, apologetic smile when you passed him. His eyes reflected the same.

It was once you were out of the room that Eijirou dared to move his eyes away from your path. He found Bakugo, who was staring him down from where the man still stood in the doorway. “Did you really need to read the article out loud?”

“Would you have told the truth if I hadn’t?”

Eijirou’s jaw snapped shut indignantly, knowing what his answer was, and knowing Bakugo knew it too. He could feel the blonde’s eyes on him as Eijirou sighed, deflating as he resigned himself to the fact that he was outnumbered and in the wrong. He pulled his phone from his pocket, taking only a moment to find the contact he was looking for. The man picked up after only one ring.

“Red, I told you to take the rest of the day, you don’t have to check in with me. Is everything okay?”

Kirishima smiled faintly, feeling as cared for as ever by his boss’s concern. “Yeah, I’m okay. I was just wondering if we could set up some kind of training for me. Practical or simulation is fine, just something to help me be more aware of my surroundings.” It took him a moment, and a steadying breath to admit both to his boss and himself, “Saying I’m going to be better about it isn’t actually doing anything for me in the field. I need to practice staying engaged with what’s around me, even during fights, or I’m going to get hurt.”

There was a moment of quiet before a response finally came back through. “It takes a big man to admit when he has work to do. I’ll set something up, okay? We can all participate. You get some rest.”

“Thanks, Fatgum.”

As Eijirou hung up the phone, he looked back up at Bakugo and saw the man nod before stepping back into the kitchen with the announcement, “I’m gonna do dinner.”

“You wouldn’t want to switch jobs with me, would you?” Eijirou asked, tone pleading despite already knowing the answer.

Katsuki’s face contorted in disgust. “Tch. And tell your partner they were wrong when they weren’t? Absolutely not. Go deal with it, dumbass.”

The redhead nodded to himself and waited only another moment before slowly getting up from the couch and walking to the bedroom the two of you shared. He knocked gently, opening the door only slightly at first, waiting for you to tell him to wait if you needed more time. When you remained quiet, he approached carefully, sitting down beside you on the bed. He left a respectful amount of space between you, not wanting you to feel smothered, but to him the distance felt like a storm-wrought chasm. He only left the quiet intact for another moment before he started with your name, soft, careful.

You knew he was squirming, even without looking at him, so you didn’t make him wait any longer. “You know,” you thought aloud, gaze still resting on the floor from where you sat at the edge of your bed, “I have this kid at work with a quirk called Unravel. He inherited it from his mom and it’s kind of a weird one,” you commented, tone deceptively light for the conversation. “Any time they touch something, their fingers will just materialize a thread that if they pull on it, the whole thing comes undone like pulling on a lose string on a knit sweater.”

You could hear the confusion in his tone, despite his efforts to understand, when he responded, “Yeah, I could see why that would be hard for him to deal with.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, especially since his version works on people, too.” There was a silence so complete between you that you could hear a knife hitting a cutting board in the other room. You paid it no mind. “I have another client that breathes corrosive acid vapor. By default, mind you, so she has to put active effort into not melting everything in a two-meter vicinity anytime she isn’t wearing her mask for it. I have a lot of kids with quirks like that; devistating, unless completely under control.”

“Baby, I-”

“My job is dangerous, Eijirou,” you interrupted the man to clarify. “Not in the same way yours is, but still dangerous.”

“I know that, honey.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever almost not made it home. I’m so careful. Always. Because I know there’s someone waiting for me at home.”

“I know,” he said, covering your hand with his own where it rested on the bed beside you. He squeezed your fingers as though to emphasize, “I swear I’m going to do better.”

“You said that the last time you were in the hospital, Eiji.” His grip tightened further for a moment before it went dead, entirely releasing your hand without pulling away from you.

His response was only an ashamed whisper of admittance. “Yeah, I did.”

These conversations weren’t easy, but you needed to have them, you needed him to understand. “I get that sometimes, to do the right thing, to catch the bad guy, you have to do the scary, dangerous, thing. But doing that when there are other options isn’t brave, it’s reckless, and you could get hurt again, or worse.” Your voice cracked only slightly toward the end of your statement, but Eijirou caught it anyway.

“Hey,” he cooed, quick to scoop you up, pulling your entire body, effortlessly, into his arms so he could hold you. Not to restrain you this time, only to reassure you he was there, he was whole. “I know I’ve said it before, but I need to you know I mean it when I tell you I’m going to do better. I’ll show you I mean it.” There was a determination you recognized in his voice, the one he got when he’d truly set his mind to something, and so you leaned toward wanting to believe him. The next thing he told you only reaffirmed it further. “I called Fat, asked him to set up some training so I can figure out how to pay attention outside of any active situation. That way it’ll just be muscle memory for me soon and I can take it into the field.”

You nodded, the side of your head rubbing slightly against his collarbone at the motion, before you let your forehead rest against his throat once again. Your, “Thank you,” was breathed on a sigh of relief as he hugged you, and you snaked your arms around him too when you requested, “hold me tonight when we lay down?”

Eijirou leapt to comply, affirming immediately that he would. “Of course, sweetheart, I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

It was then that you finally allowed yourself to relax enough to feel your more vulnerable feelings on the matter. You let them all process at once as your boyfriend held you, tears of worry and hypothetical grief left you as you breathed away the fires of righteous anger and irritation. You let the relief sink in too, that he was okay, that he was here, that he was making meaningful changes to ensure it wouldn’t happen again, at least not needlessly.

“I love you.” The phrase was pressed into the top of your head, and you felt, rather than heard the ‘I’m sorry’ in the way he clung to you as he held you in his lap.

“I love you,” you responded softly, squeezing your arms around his waist to emphasize the sentiment.

You deflated further as you rested against your boyfriend’s chest, and he stroked your back slowly with one hand while the other kept you locked in his embrace. After only a few moments of silence, Eijirou asked, “Are you still mad at me?”

You pulled back, squinting up at him with a frown. “Did you want me to be?”

“No! No. I just…” He broke eye contact as he considered his next words. “I don’t know, I guess I thought you were going to yell more? Or at least tell me I’m an idiot, or something.”

“You already spent the last couple of hours beating yourself up over it, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“And you already talked to Fatgum about fixing the issue, right?”

“Yes,” he assured with a nod.

“And you apologized and meant it, so…” you let the word hang in open air for a moment as you shrugged. “I don’t think there’s anything left except to be relieved you made it home.”

The man released a sigh of relief, a soft and small smile forming on his lips as he stopped rubbing your back to instead cup the side of your face and run his thumb along your cheekbone. You could see in his face the way his heart melted when you pressed into his palm. He inhaled like he had something to say, but was cut off by his phone, the text-tone for Bakugo piercing the still air. His smile turned mildly apologetic as he checked it. “He says dinner’s almost done.”

You gave a hum of affirmation before leaning forward enough that Eijirou read the cue and leaned in as well to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’m glad I made it home, too,” he said like it was a confession. “I love my job, but this…” his grip tightened around you as he searched for the right words. How was he supposed to put the feeling in his chest into words? How was he meant to describe the way you pulled him in, the way he felt so comforted and safe and loved and all of it so unconditionally. Even when you were mad it was only because you worried for him, and he had no idea where to start to voice it to you. Instead, he settled on, “It’s my favorite thing to just be home with you.” He hoped you heard all the things he meant by that.

And you did.

Dinner was good, and despite the tension you were concerned might make things difficult, it was nowhere to be found. The three of you enjoyed your meal in relative peace together, and when it was time to clean up, you took everyone’s plates from the table.

“I’ll help,” came from Bakugo as the man also stood from his chair.

“It’s okay, Bakugo, it’s my night, I can-”

“I said I’m helping, dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, by far one of your least favorites in his standard list, but made no effort to further dissuade him from assisting. It wasn’t until the two of you had been standing at the sink for a few minutes, you handing Bakugo dishes to dry after you’d washed them, that finally he spoke up.

“You talked to him?”

“Yeah,” you assured, continuing your task.

“And he knows not to do that shit again?”

You chuckled slightly. “So, he says. I think he means it, though.”

You caught his nod from the corner of your eye. “He told you he called Fatgum, right?”

“Yeah, he said he asked for extra training, I hope it helps.”

Bakugo only grunted beside you as he took the last dish from your hands with a towel. After you’d rinsed the sink and grabbed another towel for your hands, he asked, “Are you okay?” It was timid, almost, which drew your gaze to the man. His refusal to make eye contact gave you a full view of his ears and the pinkish color they were turning.

“I think so,” you answered on a sigh. “I really appreciate you having my back.”

His ears went redder, and you saw his jaw flex before he responded, “Yeah, well he should already know better.”

It was a dodge, and you knew that, but you let it slide. Instead, you asked him in return, “Are you okay?”

He froze for a moment, going rigid only just long enough for you to notice, like his whole body had reflected an anxious skip in his heartbeat. But he returned to normal immediately afterward. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Cause he’s your best friend, and you’re allowed to be worried about the people you care about.”

Bakugo’s frown deepened for a moment, and you accepted the lack of an answer as an answer in itself. He wasn’t just going to admit to you-

“’M fine.” But his teeth ground together, and his lip pulled up almost in a snarl, words gone unsaid just hanging from his mouth.

“But?”

“But what kind of moron-” his sentence cut off with a growl and a huff.

An amused sigh escaped through your nose, happy, despite the circumstances, that Bakugo cared, and was being so open about it. You planted a hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort and understanding. You knew how frustrating it was to have people you loved constantly in danger, especially when one seemed to throw himself into it, caution to the wind, at nearly every opportunity. What you weren’t expecting was his other hand to instantly close over yours and squeeze, keeping your fingers trapped and digging into his bicep.

“Bakugo?”

“I don’t-”

“Babe?” came from across the house.

Both of you snapped your heads up in the direction of Eijirou’s call, and you looked to Bakugo a moment later as his hand fell from yours, and found his face heated by embarrassment and features contorted with guilt. But as he stepped away from you, out from under your hand and your reach, he looked pained, almost sad in the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow and his jaw ticked with tension, the way his lips pursed with something unsaid.

“Katsuki, what did you-”

“It’s fine. I’m good.” The glass in his eyes exposed the lie; reflective and fragile. But when you reached for him again, he dodged away from you. “You should go see what he needs.”

You watched, struck still by your confusion as Bakugo walked from the kitchen. You exited a moment later, sparing only a glance into living room where the blonde was settling as you moved toward your bedroom.

“Yes, my love,” you finally answered, announcing your presence in the doorway to his turned back. You did your best to ignore the way he flinched, clearly sore, as Eijirou lifted a new shirt over his head. “Here, let me,” you offered, quickly crossing the room and taking over the task of dressing the enormous man that sat in front of you.

He beamed up at you once his face was free from the fabric. “Thank you.”

“Always,” you ensured, leaning down to peck him carefully on the lips before pressing a kiss to his forehead as well. Once you’d stood back up all the way, you asked, “What is it you needed, Eiji?”

He pressed into where one of your hands cupped his face, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your other fingers gliding absentmindedly through his hair. Eijirou was positively melting into your touch, whole body relaxing and leaning forward until his face pressed into your stomach. Having quickly run out of space to keep your palm on his cheek, you instead wrapped your hand around the back of his neck as you continued to run your nails on his scalp, careful not to tangle the length of his hair. It was grounding for him, the hold you had on him, and you knew that, so you left your question to hang in the air unanswered. Perhaps this is what he’d been seeking anyway.

But eventually, he mumbled into your shirt something that sounded vaguely like “I’m tired.”

The attempt made you chuckle, and you pulled away, still supporting the weight of your boyfriend’s head in your hands as you spoke. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, you want to repeat that so everyone else in the room gets the message?”

He smiled at you sleepily. “Any chance you’re ready for bed? It’s been a long day.”

“Mm,” you hummed in understanding, “I’ve heard falling buildings have a tendency to really take it out of a guy.” Eijirou’s immediate tensing in your arms made you chuckle, but you didn’t want him stressed over the possibility that you weren’t actually okay about the situation despite the fact that you’d told him you were. So, you were quick to ensure, “Yes, baby, we can go to bed.”

The man relaxed immediately, melting once again in your hold before leaning back and doing his best to drag you with him. “Would you put me under tonight?” he asked, almost sheepishly, as though he didn’t feel he had the right to ask such a favor right now.

But you’d never minded at all, even on days you were exhausted, it never took very long for you to put Eijirou to sleep that way, and it gave you an excuse to cuddle him, not that an excuse was ever needed for it. “Of course,” you answered with no hesitation as you joined him to lay down.

The redhead was quick to pull you half on top of him, which despite your concerns, had always been a position he claimed was one of the most comfortable ways for him to sleep, so you indulged him. You always ended up sleeping on his side with one arm and one leg thrown over his chest and hips anyway, which was easy to get to from where he put you now.

“I love you,” was pressed into your hair, barely more than a whisper, but with the weight of the days conversations to back it up.

“I love you, too, Eiji. So, so much.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered again, tone more conspiratorial now, resembling that of a child up past their bedtime.

“Goodnight, Eijirou. Get some sleep.”

And he did. You made sure of it. Because you were awake all night using your quirk to make sure your boyfriend was not awoken by the same thing that had pulled you from your slumber less than an hour after you’d finally managed to fall asleep: Bakugo.

In the otherwise dead silence of the night, you’d been able to hear the initial time he woke up with his powers going off. You’d been able to hear it before the big boom, which you could only find yourself thankful for, as you were able to take Eijirou’s hearing before the explosion woke him up. But the noise didn’t stop there. Bakugo was moving around the house, closing cabinets and doors more forcefully than necessary, stomping like the floor itself had pissed him off, and cooking for some forsaken reason at two in the morning. All of it was enough to keep you up, and would have been enough to wake Eijirou, and you couldn’t have that, not when he needed the rest so badly, so you didn’t let yourself fall asleep, even in the longer quiet stretches, just in case you needed to guard your boyfriend’s peace.

Work the next day was a living nightmare.

When you got home, you were a mess, and you knew you looked it. Eyebags from hell, induced by both the sleepless night and the regression of almost every client you saw today. Somehow the universe had synchronized to drop you in the middle of the most horrific shit storm you’d seen in a while, and by the time you were leaving for the day, you were exhausted. From overuse of your quirk, from the toll of the healing you’d underwent to nullify some of your worse injuries, from the smaller ones still irritating your skin and muscles, from all of it, probably.

Your movements were sluggish and careful as you changed from your work attire into house clothes, and as you stepped out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind you, you found Bakugo doing the same in the entryway.

He looked up when he heard you, and you saw one of his eyebrows quirk in something between concern and question. “You look like shit.”

You snorted, taking in the hunch in his shoulders, the bruise blooming an angry redish-purple on his jaw, the pained tenderness with which he removed his shoes. “Must be looking in a mirror, then.”

The man rolled his eyes with no real conviction. “Rough day?”

The slight bob to your head as you began shuffling again, now headed to the living room, only gave further indication to the blonde of your exhaustion. “And then some. You?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

You’d been sitting down, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone with your feet tucked to your side, for only a couple minutes when Bakugo appeared, container in hand, and sat on the other end of the couch. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught him holding the container out to you, chopsticks already sticking out, neatly tucked along the edge. When you reached for it, and looked inside to find homemade gyoza, your brow pinched. They looked amazing, but there hadn’t been any in the fridge yesterday. And then it dawned on you. “Is this what you were making this morning?”

His eyes widened slightly. “You heard me?”

“You think I look this good just from work?” There was no real venom to the snarky remark, more sarcasm than anything. But when you took one of the dumplings and sunk your teeth into it, your eyebrows raised with an awe that was matched in your tone. “Woah.”

You looked up in time to see Bakugo swallow from behind his scowl. “What, you thought they were gonna be bad?”

“No,” you insisted, “Just a little surprised they’re this good.” You thought for a moment as you ate the other half, immediately picking up another before the man snatched the container back from you like a territorial raccoon. “But you’ve made those before, haven’t you? I would remember if they always tasted like that.”

He shrugged and gave a roll of his eyes that seemed genuinely irritated by his own response. “They always come out better when I make them in the middle of the night for some reason. I don’t fucking know.”

The only acknowledgement you gave was a hum and quirk of your head as you dug into the one you’d collected only a moment ago. After you’d finished it, Bakugo held the container toward you again.

“Do you want another one? I’m going to put the rest back in the fridge.”

You shook your head ‘no,’ knowing if you kept eating, you’d be opposed to not finishing the entire set in one sitting. “Thank you,” you responded, tired but genuine and sweet, and Bakugo rose to his feet quickly, exiting the room with gyoza in hand and silence in his mouth.

In his absence, you turned on the tv, to something easy and quiet that you’d seen plenty of times. You knew Bakugo didn’t mind the program much either; you could only hope that wouldn’t be changed by his lack of sleep.

You only had a vague awareness of Bakugo returning to the living room several minutes later, exhaustion having overtaken you again, now that you were laying horizontally with a throw pillow under the side of your head.

“Move your feet.”

So, you did, pulling them up toward the rest of your body and grimacing slightly at the new scrunched position. You felt the couch dip on the other side, followed immediately by warm hands on your ankles, pulling your legs back to their previous stretched out positioning, but now your calves rested across Bakugo’s lap. His proximity was like a sedative, and you weren’t sure you made it all the way through your question of whether the volume was fine before you passed out.

When Eijirou made it home less than an hour later, he had questions of why his ‘On my way’ texts had gone unanswered. He found his answer when he entered the living room. Bakugo was as close to starfished as he could be while seated on the couch; hips forward and legs spread wide so he was leaned back and sunk into the cushion, head tilted all the way back, mouth open and snoring, one arm out and over the armrest, the other draped carefully over your legs with his hand wrapped around your ankle. You were stretched out mostly normally, but your neck and head sat at an odd angle because of how you were positioned against the armrest.

Eijirou shook his head, amused. Neither one of you was going to be very happy with the way your joints would feel when you woke up, but given the fact the pair of you had fallen asleep like this at all, told him you both needed it. When he saw the bruises and bandages littering each of your bodies, Eijirou found all doubt in his decision erased. If you weren’t already up by then, he’d wait until dinner to wake you.

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- @katbug37

- @moonz33

- @falling-throughthe-hourglass

- @cuntpiercedprincess

- @kawliflo

- @skyler-bunny-simp

- @feralwolfkat

- @purplescorpi0

- @gethexxed

- @rolling-bubbles

- @kitkatlemon

- @ocean-rays

- @starlightanyaaa

- @gooeyolk

[aro-of-argentum]

Suppression Chapter 3 today? 👀👀

[aro-of-argentum]

PLEASEEE I NEED A PART 3 FOR SUPRESSION 😓😓

Oh, don’t you worry anon, it’s coming. Trust 😤

Part 3 is almost done and it is far from the end of their story

[aro-of-argentum]

A New Titan

WC: 1k

Notes: This was a challenge set forth to me by my gang, (@teaspacebar @duskdiangelo looking at you) because apparently I'm incapable of writing short things. So, I asked for a character, trope, and word count. I was given Godzilla, Enemies to Lovers, 1k word max. And I actually kinda love how this came out so I'm posting it. Warnings are: humans being shitty, mentions of radiation sickness.

Not beta read

A New Titan:

If someone had asked you a year ago, where you thought you’d be tonight, you never would have said this. You were a monster hunter, then. Things were… different, now.

When the Titans returned, the Earth began to change, and so did the creatures living there. As it turned out, when exposed to the radiation of a Titan, dead or alive, for long enough, living things would mutate. Plant life overgrew cities so fast it was safer to evacuate and relocate than to try to fight the thriving flora. Creatures became faster, senses sharper, minds keener, camouflage more efficient, as they endured evolutionary explosions that should have taken generations, in only a few years. And humans? Just as susceptible as anything else. Nearly one hundred percent of people overexposed to Titanic Radiation became terminally, brutally ill. But those that survived became… more.

You were one such survivor.

You’d known what the risk was when you took this assignment, when you’d volunteered for it. But now that you were here, in the once-city where Godzilla had last been seen, there was something twisting in your stomach. There was no sign of it, of the Titan capable of leveling this place in a single pass. The creature was far too big to have disappeared unnoticed, but if it was still here, shouldn’t you be able to tell? Shouldn’t your sensors, or anyone’s, have gone off by now? Shouldn’t you be able to hear it?

The feeling in your stomach only worsened as you continued to explore. The city was in shambles, so entirely consumed in the vines and bamboos and trees that overtook this place after the first time Godzilla made land here. It was almost beautiful, the way nature took back over when given an opportunity, aided by a Titan or otherwise. The creaking and groaning of the structure you stood below, once a bridge or train overpass, was what alerted you that something was desperately wrong. The greenery was moving, growing.

“Looking for something?”

It was like your whole body knew something was wrong. There was fear in your heart that forced you to turn toward the origin of the voice. A man, or at least he looked it, stood tall before you. Calm, unbothered, unaware or uncaring for the near instinctual, full-body panic seeping from your pores. Something told you it was the latter.

There had been rumors of this. Conspiracy blogs and discussion boards trying to discern where they went, how they got around unnoticed, what power they had yet to reveal. There were theories this was possible, that they could transform, and even before your logic could catch up with you, you knew for certain you were standing before a Titan.

He watched you, investigative, as he awaited a response.

“I was just…” your sentence died in your throat and you swallowed the lump there before trying again. “You. I’m looking for you.”

“Me?” he rumbled, quietly amused, and you could feel more than hear the chuckle that resonated in a body typically much bigger than the one stood before you. “Humanity seems intent to fight to extinction. That of the Titans or your own seems inconsequential.”

You had nothing to say to that. He was right of course, the World’s governments had agreed not long after the Titans’ return that “it’s us or them,” and despite the numerous Titan advocacy groups, some downright religious in nature, that hadn’t changed. “I should sound the alarm,” you reasoned aloud, “Tell my squad I found you.”

“So you can kill me?”

“So we can evacuate before the-”

Your sentence was cut off by the alarm blaring from your wrist, not that the Titan had been found, but that the bombers were incoming.

He looked to you, unmoved by the entirely new kind of fear in your eyes. “Perhaps the extinction of us both is what suits your leaders best.”

When you tried to run, you found the vines and grasses had grown over your feet, rooting you to the spot.

“I invite you to stay. Observe firsthand the tragedy your people insist on.”

You could hear them first, falling from the planes, then see them, as fiery orange took over the sky, then feel them, as the ground shook and the air became fuel to burn. But pain never came. Instead, it was a protective embrace.

“What are you-”

The response came from just behind your ear, “These bombs are not enough to kill me; your government knows that. Their goal is only destruction. You’ve been poisoned by my radiation now, anyway. Allow me to convince you before you die.”

And he had.

The forest had been obliterated by the attack, and in the weeks directly afterward, you watched as the Titan, still in an almost-human form, walked every meter to repair the damage. Plants regrew in his wake and the animals eventually returned, and you, somehow, never got sick. You accompanied him, fearfully at first, until the innate response in you faded and became something entirely different, as he walked. He told you stories of what the Earth was like before humans mutilated it. And you saw it, or at least the progress being made to return there, as the human population dwindled. Never initiated by the titans, the war and its battles against them, and the consuming sickness of after, had taken only months to halve the human populace. And as the people sat idle, recovering, nature had as well. Humanity was forced to work alongside Earth instead of crushing her.

“Gojira?” you asked, walking alongside him as grasses and flowers bloomed in your wake from a power now all your own.

“Yes, my love.” He squeezed your hand slightly in acknowledgement.

“Did you think it would come to this? When you saved me that day, I mean.”

He smiled softly. “Did I think we would be preparing for a visit to my birthplace together? Certainly not. But you are important.”

“Oh, am I?”

“To me? Always.”      

[aro-of-argentum]

Aro's Masterlist

Works listed in red contain 18+ content.

DC

Red Dahlia: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Ongoing Series, 54.1k

Godzilla

A New Titan: Gojira x GN!Reader

One Shot, 1k

Haikyuu

Daddy: Daichi Sawamura x GN!Reader

One Shot, 562

My Hero Academia

Interested: EraserMic x Fem!Reader

One Shot, 3,139

The Judas Arrangement: Dabi x GN!Reader

Sneak Peek, 2,629

Suppression: KiriBaku x GN!Reader

Ongoing Series, 15.9k

Pacific Rim

The Engineer: Chuck Hansen x Fem!Reader

2-part Series, 12.8k

[aro-of-argentum]

The Judas Arrangement

WC: 2,629

Notes: This is a snippet from a Dabi/Touya Todoroki xReader project I'm currently working on and I wanted to share it as a sneak peek for the full fic I will eventually be putting out! Mentions of character death, grief and attempts to manage it, mentions of arranged marriage, Natsuo is doing his best, it isn't enough.

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

You were sitting in the same place you always did on January eighteenth, staring at the words carved into stone. Beloved son and brother. The sentimental phrase made your stomach turn. Touya was beloved, certainly, by you, by his siblings, and even by his mother, despite the strain in their relationship toward the end. But the man who paid for the headstone couldn’t have cared less. Endeavor had pushed his family to move on from the boy’s passing as soon as the cameras were pointed elsewhere, and despite their grief, they obeyed. You were the only one that visited this place now, the only one that tended to it.

Your knees were settled into the dirt at the base of the stone, and you remained, as you always did, despite the chill that seemed to seep into your very bones. The sound of footsteps on the earth was your alert you were no longer alone.

“You shouldn’t be out here like this, you’ll freeze.”

You knew he meant well, you honestly did, but for some reason you’d woken up in worse condition than you had in years for these visits. You were emotionally raw, and there was no room in your heart to be understanding of Natsuo’s feelings when the only thing you felt was despair.

You swallowed thickly to dislodge the lump in your throat before you spoke. “I’ve asked not to be disturbed while I’m here.” You continued to stare into the stone, eyes glassy but refusing to drip in front of your fiancé. He’d try to care for you if he saw you cry, and you couldn’t handle that right now. You wouldn’t have the patience to thank him and tell him he was being a good partner and dote on him in return.

He explained, “It isn’t your usual day,” as though that excused the interruption.

“It’s his birthday, Natsuo.”

“I know that.” He sighed, a tiredness creeping into his voice, though if it was caused by your behavior or the day, you weren’t sure. “That’s how I knew I’d find you here when you stopped answering my messages.”

A hum of disinterested acknowledgement left you as a vague awareness pinged in your brain to tell you that, yes, your phone had been buzzing the whole time you’d been here. You’d left it tucked in your bag anyway. “Why did you come here?” There was no accusation in your tone despite the 12-year-old little girl in your chest screaming that Natsuo should come here because he cares, not just to find you.

“My father asked to see us for lunch at his agency. We’re going to be late if we don’t-”

“Go without me,” you refused without hesitation. “Tell him I’m sick; I’ll apologize to him tomorrow.”

Natsuo was quiet for a moment before he admitted, “He wants to know about our plans for the wedding. And an explanation on why it was pushed back another six months.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

He sighed your name. ���We have to-”

“I already agreed to the contract,” you reminded him. “You’re the one that’s holding out on hope of something that’s never going to come.”

The choked noise of hurt surprise that left him did not escape your notice, and yet you still refused to turn to look at him. “Y/n, please.”

“Just-” you had to smother the irritation bubbling in your chest, knowing it came from your emotional distress more than anything he’d done. “Natsuo, please,” you barely withheld the mimicry, “go away.”

The man was dejected, you could feel it without having to see him, and it rang through his voice when he finally relented, “I’ll see if he’ll meet with us tomorrow. Do you want me to bring you a blanket?”

A pulse of guilt pushed through your chest at his words, because of course, even when you were being belligerent and hurtful, Natsuo cared, he loved you, and wanted to make sure you were alright. “No. Thank you.” You needed the cold; it was a biting reminder of what you’d lost.

He sighed but pushed no further, and a moment later there were receding footsteps.

“He’s been doing that more lately,” you explained to the open air behind Touya’s headstone, the fatigue in your voice plain as day. “His expectations of me are growing, and he thinks I shouldn’t still be here, that I shouldn’t still be feeling this way. He doesn’t understand why I can’t-” you stopped, sentence unfinished at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Natsuo, please, just leave me alone.”

A voice you didn’t recognize responded, “Sorry to disappoint, but the guy that just walked out of here looking like a kicked fucking dog is long gone.” The man’s tone was low, dangerous, and his phrasing almost felt like a threat. You braced your hands on the ground beside you, slowly moving to stand until he spoke again from behind you. “No, no. Don’t get up. Don’t turn around.”

The command was clear, and your skin crawled at the sense of danger that was clawing its way up your spine. “What do you want?” you asked, eyes searching for something, anything, that might be able to help you right now.

“Now that we’re alone, you and I are going to have a little chat.” The rasp in his voice spoke to overuse and strain, and you couldn’t help but wince at the memory of the first time you’d done that to your own voice, just after a funeral when you were twelve. “Who was he?”

“My fiancé,” you answered, tone as cold as the air around you.

“Not him,” he clarified, “The headstone.”

A huff of a dark and humorless laugh escaped you. “Would you believe me if I said the answer was the same?”

He snorted. “Dates say he was a kid.”

You could hear the unspoken question of ‘how’ in his statement, so you answered it. “We were arranged.”

“And you’re grieving? What, seven years later?”

The question was almost mocking, and you knew it was stupid to be snarky right now. But knowing that didn’t stop you. “You never loved anybody like that?”

There was a pause, nothing audible in the near-freezing silence that covered the cemetery. Then, “Tell me about him.”

You actually laughed that time, gaze still downcast at Touya’s name. “Is that your thing? You corner people at their loved ones’ graves so you can watch them cry?”

He chuckled and for a moment you thought you recognized the sound, but the rasp took back over. “Just you. Tell me.”

Your fists clenched where they sat on your thighs, nails digging into your palms as you attempted to gather the words. “He was smart, and strong, and kind,” you decided was as good a place as any to start. You wanted this man out of your space as soon as possible, and maybe playing his game was the way to do that. “He was my best friend, and I loved him, at least as much as a child can understand what love is.” You could feel fresh tears in your eyes, still doing everything in your power not to let them fall.

“I thought you said it was arranged.”

“Yeah, we got lucky; got along like a house on fire.” You laughed barely audibly at your own joke, and heard him snort before immediately coughing and clearing his throat. Odd, you thought, given the lack of context for that comment, unless he’d seen the Todoroki name and assumed. “We spent every day together, went to all the same schools, did quirk training together, he was everything to me.” The sentimentality of your rant nearly had you forgetting the reason you were on it in the first place. A nostalgic, though slightly saddened smile crossed your features when you added. “We even called each other husband and wife.”

“And the new fiancé?”

Your expression soured, and you didn’t have the bandwidth to consider how messed up of you that was. “His younger brother. He offered to fulfill the marriage contract so that my family would still be taken care of.”

“Tch. Noble.”

Your irritation bubbled out of you before you could stop yourself from spilling your guts to the stranger that still stood behind you like a ghost. “Yeah, except he wants to get married because he’s in love with me and he refuses to accept that I won’t ever feel that way about him.”

“Why not?”

“Because Natsuo’s not him!” You almost shouted, gesturing toward the headstone. You felt a tear finally slide free, and you were quick to wipe it away, despite the fact you were sure the man hovering behind you could see it. Perhaps you could blame it on the phenomenon that it’s easier to open up to strangers than people you know that this was all suddenly ready to pour out of you for the first time in your life. “And maybe it was a long time ago, and children don’t know what love is, so how do you explain to someone that while all of that is true, you don’t think you could ever be in love with them. Because just being near him felt like waking up with the sunrise on your face, and losing him felt like loosing the sun, and you haven’t been able to find anything that feels like that since.” When your words ran out, the sobs finally ripped free of your throat, tears flowing uninterrupted. You did your best to catch your breath enough to speak again. “So, if you’re gonna steal my wallet or kill me, now would be a great time, cause even if I could do something about it, I might let you do it anyway.

“I am freezing and I am miserable and I wish To-” Another sob broke off the end of your sentence, the end of your wish that he was there to comfort you, to wrap you in a hug and lean down to burrow his head into yours and let his body heat and affection chase it all away just as he did when you were kids. You were so wrapped up in the idea that even as you heard the man behind you move closer, you made no attempt to protect yourself. You sat still, head bowed, and eyes closed, nails digging so hard into your palms so hard you were certain you’d bleed if not for your quirk.

The first thing you felt was heat. Rolling in waves like someone had opened a furnace door. His knees hit the ground, and you felt the man’s arms wrap around your waist. His chest pushed into your back, and his chin landed lightly on your shoulder, head knocking softly into the side of yours and pressing there.

Your eyes shot open as you froze, shock overtaking every other emotion in your body as you tried to reconcile the fact that this person somehow knew.

You heard him speak again, now so much softer in tone and volume, though the rasp was still present. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come for you sooner.”

Your voice felt lost, and you barely managed a broken whisper of, “What?”

His arms tightened around you, grip almost crushing when he spoke again. His voice was choked and watery, and quiet enough that if you weren’t so close you were sure you wouldn’t have heard him. “I saw photos of the family a year ago, you were with Nats, I thought- fuck I should have known. I should have come to get you, I’m so sorry.”

He seemed to be spiraling, hold on you fluctuating as his arms tensed and relaxed and tensed again. Your own thoughts were running at light speed, and your eyes finally trailed down, filling with emotion when you saw the scarred and mutilated skin of his arms, the staples at his wrists. “Your arms…”

The muttering over your shoulder stopped, and for a moment you weren’t sure he was even breathing. When you moved, there was no resistance in his hold, so you turned to face the man. Your gaze trailed up the sleeves of his jacket, and you found more of the same purpled skin where the garment ended at his throat. More scars, more staples, and his eyes.

A watery gasp filled your chest. You’d had daydreamy conversations when you were children about one day matching an engagement stone to those eyes. “Touya?”

He nodded, the movement small, hope in his eyes and something almost a smile on his lips when he pressed his face into your hand where it cupped his cheek. A sigh relieved the tension in his chest, the worry that all the changes in him would make you see him as a monster.

“You’re here.” Your disbelief was evident in your tone and your eyes.

“I’m here, it’s me.”

“You’re alive.”

“I’m alive.” His volume remained quiet, withheld, like he was scared to shatter the bubble around the two of you.

You smiled through the tears now freely flowing down your cheeks, which despite there being no sign they’d slow down, the man in front of you seemed content to continually wipe away with his thumbs as his palms cradled your face. Warmth spread from his touch, hot, but not enough to burn, never enough to burn you, even if he could. He’d always touched you with that kind of careful awareness of his quirk. “How?” you questioned, hands latching onto his wrists as overwhelming confusion and concern took over almost everything else. “In the park- you- we didn’t-”

He flinched at your grip but made no attempt to remove it as he cut you off. “I promise, I can explain, but I don’t have a lot of time right now, I-”

His own sentence was cut off by an explosion close enough to rock the ground, followed immediately by a phone ringing in his pocket. “What-” you tried with wide eyes, but your own phone blared Natsuo’s ringtone from your bag.

“Shit! Y/n, I have to go.” He moved to stand up, his hands pulling away from you as he did, and you panicked.

“Wait!” You stared up at him with wide eyes as your heart and mind raced alike. Your breathing grew labored as you considered what you were about to ask, but what else could you do when your best friend, your purpose in life, your everything was back within reach, staring down at you, about to leave you behind again. “Take me with you.”

“It’s not safe, I can’t-”

“It doesn’t matter! I can’t lose you again,” you were begging; you didn’t care. “Don’t leave me.”

His jaw tightened for only a moment before, “Fuck! Come on,” he commanded, pulling you to your feet.

You made no attempt to grab your things as he stormed away with you in tow, and you couldn’t help but notice that even though he’d said he was leaving, he’d never dropped your hand.

“You have to stay close to me, you have to do everything I say, without question, and you have to call me Dabi. Good?” He threw the question into the air, knowing you’d be listening. He waited until he heard you respond with an ‘okay’ far too sure, before shaking his head, unable to determine whether he was happy or terrified for what he was about to do. “You’re not going to like where we’re going.”

And now, as his fingers intertwined with yours to pull you along as the pair of you broke into a run, you cleared the boundary of the cemetery, leaving your things, your grief, maybe your entire life, at the headstone of Touya Todoroki.

[aro-of-argentum]

Red Dahlia- Chapter 11

WC: 6,857

Notes: MDNI- This chapter has smut in it, like pretty close to right away, the reader and Jason take the next step of their relationship, Oral sex (female receiving), Penetrative sex (with protection), Jason is very touchy-feely and so so domestic, Jason gives the reader a new gift and takes her to work

Also! This is the end of the first arc of this story and so I will be taking a few weeks off of posting so that I can write ahead enough to consecutively post the next arc as I have with this one, even if I get busy with school again. Thank you for reading, I will see y'all soon :)

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

Previous Chapter, Masterlist, Next Chapter

Chapter 11:

“And everybody’s been putting condolence cards and stuff into your locker, so did you want me to clean it out for you in the morning, or-”

“Marcy, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure? There was a rumor around work that someone in your family died, so everyone-”

“Marcy,” You interrupted, “I got it. I’ll take care of it when I get on shift tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay,” She relented. “I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you.”

It made you smile to hear that. “I’m excited to get back. I’ve been going a little stir-crazy sitting at home.”

“You haven’t been out to see Jason?” She asked.

“No, he’s been at home with his family. He’s coming over tonight though since he got the all-clear to be up and moving around again.”

“Aw, and the first thing he wanted to do was come see you, that’s sweet.” Her tone was dripping with sarcasm, and then she made a gagging noise.

“Hey, what did we say about leaving my relationship alone?”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll call you later.” She took on a conspiratorial tone when she added, “Have fun tonight.”

You could only shake your head and sigh. “Bye Marce.”

“Bye, babe.”

Just as you were hanging up with Marcy, your phone buzzed a text notification: Jason, saying he was on his way. You shot back a quick, “Drive safe,” before beginning to pull ingredients for dinner from the fridge so you could begin prepping. You’d barely gotten anything done by the time you heard a knock at your door. Your eyes narrowed as you double checked the time and noticed he’d gotten to your apartment far faster than he should have. Drive safe, my ass, you thought.

Jason’s face broke into a warm smile when you opened the door. “Hey, Sweetheart.”

Any irritation you’d had at his driving habits dissipated instantly when he reached for you, encircling your waist in his arms and burying his face in your hair. You returned a soft, “Hey,” as you wrapped your arms around him too, smile spreading across your own face to finally be able to touch him again.

He gave a dramatic inhale and almost groaned, “Oh fuck, I missed you. I swear they were trying to kill me this week.”

You tried to ignore the way his breath felt against your neck as he spoke and focused instead on keeping up the conversation with sarcasm. “Aw, poor baby. What did your loving family do to you while you were away?”

He caught your tone but chose to answer earnestly anyway. “Locked me in my room, mostly. They set up a guard rotation so I couldn’t sneak out.”

You pulled away from him slightly to be able to look him in the eyes. “Are you really that much of a flight risk?”

“I am when you’re all the way across town, yeah.”

His answer made you snort but your face heated all the same. “Well, you’re here now,” you said as you moved your right hand to his cheek and stroked your thumb over his cheekbone for a moment before leaning up to kiss him.

He met you halfway and pressed his lips to yours, right hand finding its way to the back of your neck while his left stayed draped around your waist. As the kiss deepened, you felt his grip on you tighten. Jason pulled your hips to his and the contact made you gasp slightly, allowing his tongue access to your mouth. The shift in mood was immediately tangible and you found yourself floating in the moment of devolving self-control. Before you completely lost yourself though, you pulled away to speak up.

“Jay, I-” Your sentence was cut short as he lifted you onto the kitchen island and reattached himself, this time to your neck, and began sucking a bruise into the skin below your jaw. You moaned, and your hands flew to touch him, one balling the shoulder of his shirt into your fist, the other finding purchase in his hair, and the slight tug you gave made him groan into your throat. You knew you only had a moment left to protest before any care you had about the food you’d begun to prepare would vanish. “Jason,” You started, trying desperately to focus on your words, not the way he’d dragged your hips to the edge of the counter and was rocking his own into them. “I was making dinner, I-”

He immediately unlatched from your neck, and his hips slowed, but didn’t stop as he took a moment to calm his breathing before responding. “If you don’t want to do this right now, I will wait, but Sweetheart, I am more than happy,” he emphasized his point with a nip to the back of your jaw and a roll of his hips, “to cook for you after.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at his words and goosebumps broke over your skin at his breath on your neck as he spoke. The choice was an easy one. “Dinner can wait,” you managed between heavy breaths. Jason was quick to react, and a yelp of surprise escaped your throat as you were pulled from the counter. Your immediate reaction was to cling to him; pressing your chest to his with a death grip on his shirt, and your legs wrapped around his waist like a vice. The action made Jason chuckle in your ear.

“Relax, Sweetheart, I’m not going to drop you.”

And you knew that. You could feel the hold he had on you, the way one hand cradled your back and the other palmed your thigh. You weren’t going anywhere unless he decided you were. The walk to your bedroom only took Jason a few strides, and he was on you again the moment your back hit your bed. Your desperation only grew as his hips ground down into yours, and you broke the kiss to pull Jason’s shirt over his head.

When your touch turned soft, the need drained from your actions, Jason froze. His gaze trailed to where your fingers lightly traced over the scar on his shoulder, left behind by the bullet that had made a home there only a couple of weeks ago. There was worry in your eyes when he finally looked back at your face.

“I’m okay,” He reassured you with a nod, holding himself above you. “It’s fully-”

“I almost lost you that night…” Your thoughts processed aloud as your mind wandered, fingers still tracing the healed wound.

“I know,” his tone was almost placating as he spoke, “but you didn’t. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Jason took your hand from his shoulder and pressed it into his chest over his heart. “I’m right here.”

Your other hand reached up to his cheek and Jason leaned into it. “Show me.”

The request was simple, and Jason found himself eager to comply. He only had time to respond with a nod before you pulled him back down to kiss you again. He’d convince you like this over and over if you’d let him.

Getting each other undressed was quick work, and you knew you’d have to go searching for where Jason threw things, but that was a concern for later. Now, there was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, kissing up the insides of your thighs, leaving little bite marks here and there before quickly soothing them with his tongue. You began to squirm.

“Jay, skip it,” you pleaded. “I want-”

“Sweetheart, trust me,” He interrupted. “You want me to prep you.”

You shuddered at the thought and a gasp rushed into your lungs when you felt his tongue delve into you. Your fingers found his curls instantly, and you looked down to find those green eyes staring at you, watching how much you liked him eating you out.

“Fuck,” came out of you as a broken groan. You saw his eyes squint a little as though he was smiling at your reaction before he began dragging his tongue along the inside of your walls.

Jason had a pride in himself about the way he was finding he could make you feel, about the way your hands balled into fists when he- The thought was interrupted by the drag of your nails against his scalp and the pull of his hair that elicited a depraved moan from him.

The noise felt like it vibrated through your entire body, and for a moment, every muscle flexed. “Jay-” You pleaded; his name almost choked in your throat by your own breathlessness.

He pulled away from you only enough to speak. “I need you to hang on for me, Sweetheart. Just a couple more minutes.”

“Jason-” Whatever response you’d had for him was completely lost to you as the man going down on you readjusted his attention. He began sucking on your clit as two of his fingers pushed into your core. You moaned at the stretch and the change of stimulation and felt yourself tighten around his fingers.

Jason hummed in approval as he continued his efforts on your clit and waited for you to relax enough to begin working you open on his hand. He paid close attention to each time you gasped and moaned and made note of how he’d done it for later. The chanting of his name sounded like a grounding, an anchor, coming from your mouth. There was no floating away or wishing for something else; not when he could be here, with you, like this. Jason’s eyes trailed up to watch your face, only to find that you were staring down at him, and a rush of arousal traveled down to his already impossibly hard cock. He needed you to be ready for him, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to wait much longer, so he slowed his movements with his hand until he had nearly stopped and slid a third finger inside you.

A small gasp left your throat and your eyes fluttered shut as you adjusted, and when you gave a nod, Jason began picking up his pace again. Immediately, you could feel your orgasm building, and you found yourself grinding down into Jason’s face and hand in search of more friction.

He took it in stride, matching your movement and encouraging it, eager to get you there. As his fingers pumped in and out of you, Jason began to drag his fingertips along your walls and you lurched, a choked moan escaping you as your grip in his hair tightened. Jason groaned into you and the combination was enough to push you over the edge. The tension that had built up inside you finally snapped, and Jason worked you through it as you floated in a blissful haze. When he finally withdrew from you, you whimpered at the loss.

“Don’t worry, I’m still here,” He reassured you as he moved up the bed to lay on his side next to you. Immediately you brought your lips to his, and Jason groaned, hips rocking forward on their own. “Condoms?” He asked breathlessly, barely detaching from you.

“Top drawer, nightstand,” you answered, pointing to the correct side.

As Jason began to pull away, you nipped his bottom lip with your teeth, and he let out a huff. “Fuck, Y/n, you are going to be the death of me.” He shook his head slightly, lopsided smile looking almost cocky as he reached with one hand to open the drawer and pull out one of the small metallic packages. He opened it with his teeth, opting to keep his other hand on your waist, before sliding the latex on. He positioned himself between your legs and rocked his hips forward to drag his dick over your folds. A hum of appreciation rumbled in his chest at finally getting some of the sensation he craved.

“Jay please,” You whined, growing impatient, “just fuck me.”

He chuckled lightly, “Okay, I hear you.” He reached down to line himself up with your core. “Ready?”

You nodded and gave a “Yes,” that was dripping lust, until your exhale was cut off by a shuddered gasp as Jason began to push into you. You gave a choked scoff in surprise as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate him. If this was what he felt like after prepping, you thought, you were glad he didn’t let you start with this.

“Fuck,” he grunted above you, “Sweetheart, I need you to relax, baby, breathe.”

Ironic that he was telling you to breathe when it sounded like he could barely catch a breath himself. But you did your best to follow his instruction anyway, eventually relaxing enough that he was able to slowly start rolling his hips to work himself further inside you, a little at a time.

Once he had fully buried himself in you, Jason paused to take in the feeling of you flexing around him and he groaned.

“Jason, move.”

Jason found he was more than happy to listen to the instruction you’d given, pulling out almost all the way, only to force himself back in to the hilt.

Your response was a choked gasp of, “Oh, fuck,” and you felt him push a little deeper as the man adjusted his position above you.

His movement started slowly at first, trying to savor the feeling of dragging through your walls, and he reveled in the way your hands explored his lower back, encouraging him, pulling him deeper. But his control disintegrated when you moaned his name and your nails dug into his back at a particularly hard thrust; his regard for taking his time was gone.

It only took a moment before you could feel another orgasm building. Jason used his bruising grip on your hip as leverage to pull you into his every thrust, and you could feel his desperation grow as his rhythm grew harsher. Your back arched as much as you were able given his hold on you, and the slight change in angle had him hammering into your G-spot. You could feel the way you clenched down around him as you called for him, and Jason let out a stuttered moan.

His breathing became ragged as he tried to speak. “Do it again,” he growled, and you weren’t sure if he was asking or demanding. “Say my name.”

“Jason,” you could barely repeat it before a sharper thrust forced a gasp into your lungs.

“Again.” He ground the word out through his teeth, eyes locked on your face as it twisted in pleasure, the pleasure he gave.

“Jason,” it was begging this time, and you focused everything you had left on being able to keep begging, nails dragging along his back as you attempted to keep some grip on reality.

And it drove him crazy. Jason could feel how close he was, thrusts becoming erratic as he tried to hold out. He wanted you to finish first; he wanted to feel you come undone on his cock. “Fuck, Sweetheart, what do you need? I’m close.”

You nodded as much as you were able with your head thrown back. “Me too, I want-” Your sentence cut off as you shuddered, and you knew you were about to burst. “Jay, kiss me.”

Just as his lips crashed to yours, your orgasm flooded over you. Your mouth opened in an uncontrolled moan and Jason drank it down eagerly and he continued to pound into you. But the spasming of you around him and the pull of your fingers in his hair pushed him over the edge, and Jason buried himself to the base in you with a choked groan.

There was a moment of quiet as Jason allowed his head to hang in the open space next to yours, and his hips gave a few weak involuntary thrusts as reaction to the aftershocks rippling through you. You hissed at the overstimulation now beginning to set in. “Jay, too much.” You said weakly.

Chest heaving over you, he nodded, “Okay baby, one second,” and between his attempts to slow his breathing, Jason carefully pulled out of you.

He was out of the bed for a moment, though you were too delirious to figure where he’d gone, before he returned to your side. His hand reached up to cup your cheek and the sleepy smile you gave him melted his heart. His thumb dragged briefly over your bottom lip before he leaned down to kiss you, slowly and lazily. When he broke the kiss, he spoke just above a whisper. “I don’t think I will ever have words for how gorgeous you are right now.”

You hummed in appreciation of the compliment. “I could say the same to you.”

He huffed a chuckle and questioned, “Oh, yeah?” with a single raised eyebrow.

“Mhmm.” You nodded and reached up to gently drag your fingers across his forehead, where sweat had made his black and white curls cling to his skin. He was glowing, and just a little red from the blush forming on his cheeks and ears the longer you stared. And those green eyes of his, soft as ever, and filled with adoration. “You’re beautiful, Jason Todd.”

-

You awoke from what you could only assume was a brief nap to the smell of food cooking in the other room. You grabbed new underwear from your drawer, and Jason’s shirt from the floor before entering the kitchen.

“Smells good,” you stated with a hum as you planted a soft kiss on his exposed shoulder mid-stride.

“Yeah, thanks, I-” Jason’s sentence cut off with a groaned huff as he turned just in time to see you pull yourself up to sit on the counter. “Fuck, Sweetheart, I’m cooking,” He started instead as he approached you, “you can’t come out here dressed like that and expect to eat anytime soon.” His hands reached for your legs and started stroking slowly up the outsides of your thighs as he slotted himself between your knees at the edge of the counter.

“Said the man being all domestic in my kitchen, wearing nothing but sweatpants,” you replied with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. You leaned forward and gave a chaste kiss before continuing, “Besides, I’m starving. If you want another round, you’re gonna have to feed me first.”

He wore a cocky smirk as he chuckled slightly, leaning in to kiss you again. “Understood.” Another kiss. “So, dinner and then…” And another, during which he briefly caught your bottom lip between his teeth.

“So, dinner and then we’ll see. I have work tomorrow.” You pushed him back slightly with a hand on his chest as you peered over his shoulder. You nodded to the stovetop behind him. “Your pot is going to boil over.”

“Shit.” The slight fear in his eyes as Jason pulled away from you made you giggle, but he managed to remove the pot from the burner before the contents overflowed.

It was only a few minutes later that dinner was ready, and you both sat down on the couch to eat.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” You asked, turning sideways in your seat to lean against the armrest and lay your legs over Jason’s lap in the spot next to you.

-

You woke up to your alarm blaring and groaned. Even after two weeks off, you’d have given anything to stay home today. Your sour mood was quickly overshadowed by affection as you felt a heavy arm fall over your waist and pull you back until you were pressed against a wall of muscle. When you felt Jason press a kiss to the back of your head and hum a sigh, you knew the alarm had probably woken him too. You turned in his grasp, though at first you had to fight his grip, before he realized you weren’t leaving.

“Jason?” You asked softly, hesitant to wake him if he was somehow still asleep.

“Mhmm?” He hummed in response, still not opening his eyes.

“When did we get off the couch last night?”

“You fell asleep after dinner. I didn’t want your back to hurt.” His answer was nonchalant and half-mumbled, but it made you smile all the same.

“You carried me to bed?” You questioned, fingers trailing lightly down the line of his jaw, now covered in the slightest hint of stubble.

“Mhmm,” he hummed the affirmative as he pressed a halfhearted kiss to your forehead, and his breathing began to slow again.

There was a pull in your chest toward sleep, wanting to stay in the comfort of Jason’s hold and rest with him. But you had to get up. You had work in a few hours. It only took a moment for Jason’s breath to even out the rest of the way and you knew he’d fallen back asleep. As carefully as you were able, you pressed a kiss to his jaw and pulled away. He stirred, but didn’t seem to wake, and you slowly slid out of bed, slinking off to the shower. You did your best to be quick, and when you returned to your bedroom to get dressed, you found Jason, lazily scrolling on his phone, still laying in bed. He dropped the device from his view and squinted pointedly at you.

“You left,” he accused, voice all gravel and breaths still deep from having just woken up.

The sight and sound of him only made you smile. “I had to clean up, I have work in a little while.”

His expression could have been something close to a snarl if he hadn’t been so sleepy looking. “Fine.”

“I still have a couple hours before I head out,” you tried to appease as you began pulling your scrubs from the closet to lay them out. “I can make breakfast before I go. Do you need to shower or anything?”

“Um…” Jason found himself nearly at a loss for words as he stared at you moving around the room. He watched as you slid your clothes on over skin that he wanted nothing more than to touch all over again. The tank top and shorts you wore clung to the curves of your body and Jason wanted to trace every line.

“Jay?” You stopped what you were doing and looked at him expectantly, head cocked to the side.

He nodded, a blush heating his ears and the back of his neck at having been caught staring. “Yeah, I probably should. Breakfast would be great.”

You chuckled as you watched him get up and out of your bed surprisingly quickly for someone who’d been half-asleep only a few minutes ago. “Towels on the shelf are clean!” you called after him.

“Cool!” He shot back with a thumbs up over his head as he continued to walk, not slowing until the bathroom door was closed.

A small smile crossed your features as you walked to the kitchen to get breakfast ready, figuring some eggs and bacon would do. You listened to the shower run as you threw the meat on the stove and mixed the eggs, and by the time you’d almost had everything finished, you heard the water turn off. A moment later, you caught in the corner of your eye, Jason walking by in nothing but a towel toward your bedroom. Your mind began to wander until a pop of grease landed on your arm. You hissed an inhale and gave a soft, “fuck,” as your attention returned to the task at hand.

“You alright?” The man asked, coming back out of the bedroom now in dark pants. He slid up behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist, resting his jaw against the side of your head, bare chest pressed against your back.

“I’m fine,” you reassured him, running your unoccupied hand over his arm as you leaned into him. “Why are you always walking around my house shirtless?”

Jason let out a scoff of shock. “What, you don’t like it?”

“No, I love it, actually. But it’s a bit distracting.”

You could feel the boost in his ego and hear the smirk in his voice when he responded, “Oh is that what happened a minute ago? I was being distracting?” He planted a kiss on your neck in the same place you’d found a hickey in the mirror this morning as if to emphasize his words.

The roll of your eyes could not have been any bigger. “Yes,” you admitted, “But I have things to do today, so you being distracting is not something I have time for.”

“See, you say that,” he started while his hands began to wander down your sides and found the bottom hem of your shorts. “But this is what you’re wearing first thing in the morning.” He played with the elasticity of the fabric as he spoke.

“This is what I wear under my scrubs, Jay.” You said it in an almost chastising manner, as though it were entirely obvious. “It’s just an extra layer to make it easier to change if I need to at work.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh and squeezed you around the middle slightly as you continued to cook. “I guess that makes sense, like wearing compression gear under my suit.”

You nodded. “It’s exactly like that. Here.” You split the eggs in the pan in half and pulled a few pieces of bacon out and onto a plate and handed it to Jason before serving yourself the same way.

He thanked you, and the pair of you ate in the kitchen, him leaned against the counter you sat on top of.

“You know?” Jason questioned as he took your plate from your hands and rinsed them both off in the sink before returning to stand directly in front of you at the counter. “I think you like sitting up here because it makes you feel tall.”

You chuckled softly, a smile crossing your features as looked at him in the eyes without having to crane your neck as you normally would at this proximity. “Okay, and?” You returned his questioning tone. “Is it such a bad thing that I can see more than your jaw from up here?” You reached to touch the area in question, your fingers stroking gently over the skin, which you noticed had been shaved clean of the stubble you felt this morning. Pity. “Or that I can kiss you without standing on my toes?” You leaned in for a kiss but froze just before making contact and Jason made a choked noise of surprise at your audacity. “Or should you be the only one who gets to be tall?” You asked, leaning back to give space, and found that his jaw hung open in shock.

A mischief entered his eyes as Jason ran his tongue over his teeth. “Oh, Sweetheart, you are playing games you already told me we don’t have time for this morning.”

“So, no teasing anymore either, then. Got it, rules are different now.” You said with a sarcastic nod.

“Now, when did I say that?” Jason asked with a smile, reaching to place his hands on either side of your neck just under your jaw, letting his thumbs trace little patterns into your skin. There was a moment of pause as he seemed content to just look at you, before Jason used his grip on you to pull you back toward him and kiss you.

It was slow and careful as the two of you made out. Your hands found their way to the man’s waist and pulled him closer, but you were careful not to elevate the tension too much. When you broke for air, Jason was the first to speak.

“Did you want me to drive you to work today?” He asked, excited glint in his gaze.

“Jay, you don’t have to, I can walk just-”

“Okay,” He interrupted you, “Let me rephrase. May I drive you to work today, please?”

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Sure… Any particular reason?”

“I have stuff to do on that side of town anyway today, so I might as well, and…” He trailed off for a moment, looking almost guilty as he palmed the outside of your thigh. “I’d really like to show off.”

“Show off what, exactly?” You asked, a conspiratorial squint on your face.

“Well, you, mostly. But also, the present I brought you,” he said with a smirk.

True confusion overtook your features. “I’m sorry?”

Jason disappeared for a moment, leaving you in the kitchen alone as he retrieved his bag from the bedroom, setting it on the couch to dig around in it. “Do you remember I told you that if you liked going riding, I’d get you your own gear?”

“Yes…”

“Here.” He pulled a neatly folded pair of pants and a jacket from his duffle and presented them to you. “They should fit better to your size than the ones you wore last time, and if you need, I can have them tailored.”

You could only nod in response as you got down from the counter, overwhelmed by such a thoughtful thing. You took the garments from him and got dressed in your room, sliding the pants and jacket on over your shorts and tank top. The suit fit like a glove, and you smirked to yourself at the idea of what Jason had to go through to get it like this without your help. When you walked back out, you could feel the exact moment Jason’s gaze fell on you. It was heavy.

Jason hadn’t expected to be so taken by the image of you wearing the suit he’d had made for you. It was just typical riding gear, with some upgrades in the armor. No chance of road rash if the thing could take a bullet. Except seeing you geared up like this stirred something dangerous in him, especially since you were in his colors. This was as close as he figured he could get to marking you, without fully putting his name or symbol across your shoulder blades. This way, you’d look like you belonged there riding with him, regardless of whether he was in the helmet.

Both pieces had a base of solid black Cordura with stitching in just the right shade of red, and while the pants only had other small details in red like the beltloops and pocket linings, the jacket was a bit more complex. The shoulder and center back panels were a dark grey color to match the gunmetal zippers, and the detailing like pocket edges, sleeve cuffs, and the bottom hem of the jacket were all done in the same red. The last piece of the jacket was the only part he was concerned might have been over the top: a blood red hood. He watched as you pulled the hood up over your head and looked at him with an eyebrow quirked. Goddamn if you didn’t look good like this. But he didn’t want the gift to feel like an attempt to control you.

“If it’s too much, then-” he started.

“No. I love it,” you were quick to interrupt as you looked over yourself. A thought occurred to you however, and you voiced it to the man in front of you. “Are we worried it’s a little on the nose though?” you asked, running your fingers over the edge of the hood.

“Nah,” he huffed the word and shook his head as he approached you. “Designers use our uniforms as “inspiration” for avant-bullshit all the time. And besides, Alfred seems to think that even just using my visage will help keep small fish off you; something about not wanting to deal with the trouble if the actual Red Hood might be over your shoulder.”

He rolled his eyes playfully to try to keep the mood light, but you could tell this was important to him. The way Jason’s hands dragged over your sleeves like he was inspecting the article for flaws told you this was much more than him gifting you an outfit. You felt the material, and noticed it was thicker than that of the jacket you wore last time, but it was lighter in weight. And it had a striking resemblance in texture to- “Is this armor?” You asked, looking up to meet his eyes as the realization dawned on you. “Like yours.”

Jason nodded shallowly, “Everything except the body plates, yeah, it’s the same stuff my uniform is made of.”

“So, what I’m hearing is: I’m basically indestructible now,” you observed, mischief in your eyes and shit eating grin on your face.

“Oh-ho,” he let out a humorless chuckle as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. “Don’t do that to me.”

You looked up through your eyelashes at him, hands resting on his chest as you spoke. “What? You don’t want me running around letting the world know I’m untouchable because I’m part of Red Hood’s territory?” His grip on you tightened, and for a moment you thought you’d made him upset until you saw the way his eyes had darkened. A small smile crossed your features as you realized what was happening. “Is that a thing for you?” You questioned, doing everything possible with your inflection to make sure that he knew you weren’t making fun of him. “Jason…” your tone dropped slightly, and you reached up to stroke his cheek with the back of your knuckles as you continued, “do you like the idea of me being marked as yours? You want everyone to know I’m spoken for?”

In a flash, his fingers were closed around your wrist to stop your movements. “That’s not a conversation to have right now if you’re still planning on going to work today.”

So, yes, he’s very into that. “Noted. Thank you for the gear.” You gave a soft smile as you tried to pull the conversation toward a less risky topic.

Jason nodded, his grip on you softening as he breathed a small sigh of relief. “Of course. You liked being on my bike, so I wanted to make sure you’re covered just in case something happens on the road. And aside from that, it should be light enough that you can wear it any time you want extra coverage, without it getting too hot or heavy.”

“Okay,” you acknowledged as you processed his words. “And “coverage,” in this case means…”

“It’ll stop blades and most small firearms,” He stated. “Plus, burns, abrasions, and other types of impact shouldn’t be an issue. BUT-” He emphasized and made sure he had eye contact with you before continuing, “You can still get hurt, so I need you to still be careful. It’s a jacket, not a forcefield.”

“I know, Jay. I hear you. I promise I will be careful, okay?” You waited for him to nod in response to indicate he’d heard you before you spoke again. “Thank you for protecting me.”

Jason felt a swell of pride in his chest hearing you say that, and he leaned down to kiss you before responding, “Always,” and kissing you again. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, thumb on your chin as he tilted your head up to look at him.

You hummed in affirmation. “Almost. I need to get my scrubs in my backpack.” It only took you a few moments to get the garments rolled and put in your bag alongside the other clothing, snacks, and book you always kept in your bag for work, and then you were back. “Ready now.” You noticed that while you were out of the room, Jason had gotten dressed the rest of the way, into gear that matched yours, aside from the hood, absent from his jacket. There was a warmth in your chest at the fact that it wasn’t only about putting you in his colors, but getting the two of you to coordinate. For someone so convinced he’s incapable of good, you thought, he’s incredibly endearing.

Jason held your hand the whole way as he led you to the alley with worn-out parking lines on the side of your building. You almost found yourself surprised to see the bike was even still there, but you figured that likely had more to do with whatever anti-theft technology was installed on it. There were also two helmets mounted to the chassis by the gas tank. They were both sleek black, with gunmetal hardware and red linings you could see through the open visors. The slightly smaller one had one difference though, in the form of a subtle matte-black design pressed over one side: a dahlia.

“Those are new,” you pointed with a curious look on your face.

“Well, yeah, if I was going all out with everything else, I figured I might as well, right?”

You gave a soft smile, “Sure. Same level of protection I assume?”

“Obviously.” He shot you a scrutinous look as though to say, ‘you know better.’

“Can I ask how they’re mounted?”

He tugged on his helmet to show you it wasn’t budging. “They’re attached with the same electromagnetic signal that locks the bike up, so it doesn’t get stolen. We all have it on our work bikes, but since I’m going to be parking this one outside the manor garage more often, I figured I should probably get it installed.”

“I hope it wasn’t too much of a pain in the ass. You shouldn’t have to alter everything for-”

Jason cut you off with a short “Hey, stop,” before continuing with, “I am happy to make changes in my life to better accommodate the fact that you are in it. And full honesty, I probably should have done it a while ago anyway.” Satisfied you weren’t going to protest anymore; Jason redirected the conversation. “Now, c’mere Sweetheart.”

When you approached him, it was with such affection in your eyes that Jason couldn’t remember a time in his life that this wasn’t standard, that you were not his priority. And he didn’t want to. He pulled you into him by your waist and kissed you deeply, trying to show you how much he cared for you, how much he loved you. He would do anything you asked of him with no regard for consequence, he realized with no surprise, and Bruce was going to kill him for it when he found out.

When the kiss broke, Jason was quick to slide your helmet over your head, immediately followed by his own, and you heard a small crackle in your ear before, “Can you hear me okay?” You looked up to Jason in surprise at how much clearer this was than the last time you’d borrowed a helmet with a comm link in it, and you could tell by the way his eyes scrunched through the open visor that he was smiling. There was a chuckle through the same speaker and then you heard him say “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You’d never felt so spoiled in your life. “You did all this for me?” You asked, almost breathless with awe.

Jason shrugged as he finished fastening his gloves, “You needed gear. I wasn’t about to have you wearing the old hand-me-down shit that just hangs in the garage. I wanted you to have the best and be- What?” He asked, finding that when he looked at you from where he sat on the bike, your helmet was cocked at him.

“Nothing, I just,” love him. You loved him. “I think you’re pretty incredible.”

He huffed an almost sarcastic laugh. “Okay, Sweetheart, get on the bike.”

You took his outstretched hand and relied on his aide for balance as you swung your leg over the back of the motorcycle. As soon as your weight settled behind him, Jason started the engine and pulled out of the alley. The ride to your job was filled with easy conversation, but far too short, and when he pulled up to the front lot of the hospital, Jason was quick to find a spot in the row closest to the doors to park. The pair of you dismounted and Jason helped you out of your helmet before removing his own.

“Hey, kick ass today,” he flashed a brilliant smile that made your heart flutter as he spoke.

“Don’t I always?” you questioned as you pulled the front of his jacket down to you for a kiss goodbye. It was only about a second before you heard a wolf whistle from behind you, and you snapped your head to find Marcy and one of the other nurses staring from the coffee cart on the sidewalk outside the front door. You looked up at Jason apologetically, “I gotta go.”

He nodded, an understanding smile over his features. “I’ll pick you up tonight if I’m not already at work.”

“And if you are?” You questioned.

“Then we’ll do the usual,” he said with a shrug, throwing a wink your way. “Either way, I’ll see you later, Sweetheart.”

“Bye, Jay.”

Tag List: @4rachn3, @lettucel0ver, @m-0ona, @chrrybkt

[aro-of-argentum]

Suppression- Chapter 2

WC: 5,192

Notes: Reader continues to worry for Bakugo, Bakugo and the reader get into a fight, Kiri remains the best boyfriend ever, Baku and Reader make up. Nothing too crazy except the Bakugo says some really out of pocket shit when the fight happens

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Chapter 2:

“You both have the day off today, don’t you?” you asked, pulling on the last of your work attire.

“Yeah, I think so!” Your boyfriend was quick to respond, also getting dressed, though he was preparing for a trip to the gym.

“Try to talk to him?” you requested, concern overtaking your tone. “I don’t know if going to the gym or sparring or something might help. One nap is not going to fix whatever got him so worked up he stopped sleeping in the first place, and he’s been on edge again the last few days. I just-”

“Sweetheart,” Eijirou interrupted with his hands wrapping around your waist, standing behind you to look at you in the reflection of the mirror you faced. “I’ll talk to him, try to see what’s going on, okay? You just worry about you and your job today; I’ll worry about Bakubro.” He leaned down to press a kiss to the side of your head, then one to your cheek, before tilting your chin to connect your lips with his.

You turned around in his hold, humming sweetly into the kiss. “How did I get so lucky to get my hands on you?”

“Mm.” He chuckled lowly, pressing his forehead to yours, tone dropping to something low and suggestive when he asked, “You wanna get your hands on me later?”

You gasped, backing away and lightly slapping his chest. “Horndog! Eiji, you know what I-”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” He laughed through the words as he nodded in understanding. “I mean it though; I’ll try to get him to talk.”

“Thank you.” The smile you gave him was marred by uncertainty and concern, and Eijirou could see it plain as day.

He sighed, pulling you into his chest in a hug that was almost crushing. “He’s not going to keep avoiding you forever.”

Your response was a grumbled, “He seems content to try.” You looked up at your boyfriend and watched as he quirked an eyebrow, knowing you’d have more. You huffed. “We live together, and I haven’t seen or heard from him in four days. The effort that’s going into this so that he doesn’t have to even look at me is crazy.”

“He’s probably just embarrassed,” Eijirou reasoned. “I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

You leaned into him, letting the feel of his hand tracing your spine soothe you. “I love you, Eiji.”

He hummed appreciatively and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you too, honey.” The line he was tracing on your back faltered for a moment. “Don’t you have to leave for work.”

“Ugh,” you groaned. “I mean, I guess.” The shrug you gave could be considered half-assed at best. “I’d rather stay home with you…”

“And leave all those kids to fend for themselves?” he asked, pulling away enough to look you in the eye. Eijirou gave you a knowing smirk; you couldn’t ever say no when your work children got brought up.

You heaved a breath and shook your head at him. “You’re using my weakness against me.”

“One of ‘em anyway, yeah.” Eijirou’s grip on your chin, careful as ever, brought your face to meet him halfway in a quick, soft kiss. “Go let your kids take your mind off of things, hang out, relax. By the time you get home, I’ll have taken care of everything.”

You pushed forward to kiss him again, lingering in the contact for a moment, eyes still closed when it broke. “Okay. I love you, I’ll see you later, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.” You reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind your boyfriend’s ear, “And don’t hurt anybody at the gym. Just because you can lift three times your own body weight and be fine if you drop the plates doesn’t mean everybody can. So, reasonable competition only, cool?”

“On my honor,” he swore with a hand over his heart.

“Good. Bye, baby.”

“I love you,” he reiterated, releasing you from his hold so you could back away, heading for the front door.

“Love you,” you shot back with a wink before turning to leave. You pulled on your shoes and grabbed your keys and did your best not to flinch when you heard Bakugo’s bedroom door open. Of course it was only now, while you were leaving, that he dared traverse any shared space in the house. Still, you couldn’t turn around, couldn’t handle the fight, not when you still had to go be a functional human today. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Work went well. Every one of your clients did well with their practice, and none of them needed you to step in to help them stay in control today. Quirk Training was very rarely an easy job to do, especially when you were given the children labeled as having “challenging” quirks due to your own ability to shut them down. Today however, things had mostly been a breeze. Every one of the kids you met with had remembered their control strategies, had been practicing the way you’d instructed, and there were no outbursts, even from the children more prone to having them. It was just after you clocked out, walking to your car when you texted Eijirou.

You: [Headed out now, see you in a few]

Loverboy: [Awesome! How was work?]

You: [Surprisingly chill. What do you want to do for dinner tonight?]

It was a few moments before your phone buzzed again. You could only assume he’d been conversing with Bakugo because of his next text.

Loverboy: [Pizza sounds good to both of us if you’re down!]

You: [Oh it’s “us” now? Did he finally pull his head out of his ass?]

Loverboy: [I think so? He wouldn’t tell me what was up today, but he didn’t shut himself in his room when I told him you were coming home, so… small wins?]

You snorted, shaking your head at your phone as you read the text. “Small wins. Sure,” you mumbled to no one but yourself, choosing to ignore the pang it put in your chest.

You: [I gotta drive, I’ll be there soon. Pizza sounds great]

Loverboy: [I’ll go pick it up! You might beat me home by a few though. Love you!]

You: [I love you too, drive safe]

The drive was monotonous as always, and though your day had been calmer than most, it was long, so by the time you got home, you were dragging your feet a little. You got through the door, took off your shoes, and made your way inside the eerily quiet house. Bakugo must have gone with Eiji to pick up food, you assumed. At least, until you walked into the living room and saw him sitting on the couch on his phone. “Oh. Hey.”

“Hey.” He didn’t even look at you; attention still held by the screen in his hand.

That made your jaw tick, and the snark in your tone was there before you could stop it. “I’m surprised you’re even sitting out here, now that I’m home. I half expected you to bolt.”

Even as he spoke again, he refused to acknowledge you in any other way. “Shitty hair said it was bothering you, so I’m done now.”

And then you felt it. For the first time since this whole thing started, you felt the rage that had been festering just below your concern for him for days. “That’s it?”

“I stopped talking, didn’t I?”

Your eyebrows nearly hit your hairline at his audacity and a dark chuckle escaped your chest. “Try again.”

“Excuse me?” He finally looked up at you.

“I said,” you started, annunciating every syllable so there’d be no mistake what you were telling him. “Try. Again.”

He scoffed and turned back to his phone, seemingly content to ignore you, and you lost it.

“You think just because you’re done, you’re over it, that everything is just fine now? You slept on my chest for seven hours less than a week ago and you’ve been avoiding me ever since!” You were yelling, you knew that. You didn’t care. “You’ve done everything in your power to not be in the same fucking room as me, but now it’s just done because you said so? I don’t fucking think so. You owe me an explanation! Or an apology, for that matter.” You took only half a second to consider before you added, “Or both, actually. I want both.”

He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t fucking matter.”

“Like hell it doesn’t!” And you couldn’t stand the fact that he was still sitting, still perfectly still, as though none of this was bothering him. You needed it to bother him. “If I wanted to come home and deal with a stubborn pissy child, I would have brought one of my clients home from work with me.”

“What did you call me!?” He stood up, now yelling as well.

“I called you a child,” you reiterated, “Cause you’re throwing some sort of bullshit cold shoulder tantrum and for what? Because you’re embarrassed? Are you ashamed the great Katsuki Bakugo needed help?”

“Well, who said I needed your help anyway, huh!?” He screamed. “We’re not even friends! You’re just some useless bitch Kirishima brought home that wouldn’t leave, I don’t need you!”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You let a dramatic flare fall over your tone despite your volume having lowered drastically, sarcasm taking over in attempt to hide the pain filling your chest and eyes. “Next time, I’ll just go ahead and fuck right off then, let it get worse until you destroy the house and everything in it.” A humorless huff of a laugh left your chest and you had to fight to stop the recovering inhale from shaking. You’d dropped to a regular speaking volume when you continued, “Your only fucking friend in the world would probably survive, and that’d be all you need, right? Don’t let me get in the way of your dreams of being a bitter, lonely, asshole for the rest of your miserable fucking life.”

He seemed to realize what he’d done then, as you were walking away from him, tears beginning to fall. He reached for you when you passed him to get to your bedroom, panic in his voice as he called your name, then, “Wait, I didn’t-”

You slapped his hand away. “Get the fuck off of me.”

“Dude…” You hadn’t even heard your boyfriend come in, you had no idea how long he’d been standing there, how much he’d heard. But Eijirou was quick to follow you into the bedroom, pizza forgotten on the counter as he shot the other man a withering look you couldn’t see.

Your attempt to slam the door was mitigated by the redhead’s presence in the frame, and he slipped into the room behind you before shutting and locking the door. “Baby, do you-”

The sentence was cut off by the way you fell into his chest, already sobbing. You felt him take a deliberately controlled breath as his arms wrapped around you, one hand in your hair and the other on your back, keeping you close to him. He didn’t bother asking if you were okay; the answer was pretty damn clear.

You heard a boom in the other room followed by the clattering of wood on your flooring. There was a string of colorful curses so loud they were almost clear, even through the walls and closed doors, then a moment later, the front door slammed shut.

Eijirou let you cry, holding you, and rubbing your back all the while. At some point in your emotional stupor, he moved to the bed, dragging you with him and pulling you into his lap to sit on his thighs with your face still pressed into his sternum. When you’d calmed down some, cries having turned to quiet sniffles, and your body lay lax and exhausted against his chest, head on his shoulder with your forehead against his neck, Eijirou finally spoke up.

“You want to tell me how all of that happened?”

You groaned. “How much of it did you hear?”

“The first thing I heard when I got inside was you telling him he was throwing a tantrum, but I could hear you both shouting when I was walking up.” You could feel the way he grimaced at the memory.

“Yeah, I uh,” a shot of guilt ran through you. You’d antagonized him, you knew that, but your patience with him was gone. “I called him a child because of how he’d been acting.” Eijirou made no move to speak, which told you he was waiting for more. “When I got home, he was sitting on the couch. Told me he was done avoiding me, but he wouldn’t give me an explanation, no apology, he wouldn’t even look at me. So, I told him I would have brought home one of my kids from work if I wanted to deal with one at home. It… escalated from there.”

Eijirou nodded slowly, taking in the information, processing it.

“I’m sorry I ruined pizza night.”

The murmur was almost pitiful, and you felt Eijirou huff a breath almost akin to a laugh. “I think that’s much less your fault than you think it is.”

“I yelled at him first, I started it.” The guilt and hurt were overtaking your anger now that you were emotionally exhausted. You knew Eijirou could hear it.

“You didn’t start this, sweetheart. Bakugo is a grown man and if he can’t handle his emotions that’s on him. Yeah, you yelled, but you’re allowed to be upset with him, especially now.” He paused for a moment, and though you could tell he was doing his best to hide it, you could still hear the anger in his voice when he added, “He shouldn’t’ve said that to you.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “The part where I’m a useless bitch or the part where apparently we aren’t friends?”

It was through ground teeth when he answered, “Both.”

You took a moment to sit in the statement, thankful as ever to be with a man who cared for you so much. Removing your hands from his chest to instead wrap around him. You squeezed, appreciating the mildly patronizing huff he gave, as though you attempting to squish his ribs had actually done anything. “I love you.”

He squeezed you back, just lightly enough for you to feel it, though you knew he could crush you (literally) if he tried. “I love you, too.” His hands continued to wander your back, drawing nonsensical but soothing patterns, and he asked, “Do you want me to go get pizza and bring it back in here? I could warm it up for you or-”

“Maybe just one. I don’t think I have enough of an appetite for more right now.” You knew even finishing one slice was going to be a challenge with the way your stomach was twisted up, but it would break Eijirou’s heart if you didn’t even try. “You should eat too,” you added at the end to remind him so that he wouldn’t forget in his process of taking care of you. “Now though, not later.”

He tilted his head to rest it against yours for a moment and sighed. “I will. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”

You nodded, getting off of him to give him space to get up, and moved to sit on your own side of the bed to wait for him.

Eijirou came back, you ate your food, and despite being wrapped in the arms of your massive and relentlessly cuddly boyfriend, you barely slept that night. Or the next. It was your turn to be avoidant. You wouldn’t disappear when Bakugo walked into a room, but you wouldn’t engage, either. Anything he said went answered by Eijirou or not at all.

After the first two nights, Bakugo seemed to get it. He stopped trying to start conversations with you, despite the rest of his routine going mostly back to normal.

“You know he feels bad, right?” Eijirou asked you one night, arm draped over you as the two of you laid on the couch.

You sighed heavily, carefully twisting to lay on your back so you could look up at your boyfriend. He quirked his head where it was propped up on his hand as he laid on his side between you and the back of the couch. “I know.” You could see the guilt in Bakugo’s features every time you caught him staring at you in the last two days, but it didn’t matter that you knew he felt bad. It made no difference if he wasn’t going to do something about it. “He still owes me an apology, guilty conscience or not.”

“Hey, I get it,” he agreed, “He absolutely does. I just don’t want you thinking he meant it. You know you’re important to him, even if he can’t say so.”

“I know. But he needs to know he can’t treat me like that, say the things he did, and just expect me to get over it on my own.” Your frustration bubbled up for a moment before you deflated, a scrunched expression of distaste covering your features.

Eijirou’s brow furrowed in confusion, hand cupping the side of your face so he could rub his thumb into the wrinkles at the top of your nose. “What’s up, honey?”

“It’s been a weird couple of weeks.”

He laughed. “Yes, it definitely has.” But he shrugged with his unburdened shoulder, easygoing smile reforming on his face. “It happens. Hopefully the two of you can work things out and we can get back to ourselves soon. I’m not going to lie, it’s kinda sucked having to cancel movie night two weeks in a row.”

“I’ll tell you what,” you started, finger lightly poking at his chest as you spoke. “Next movie night we have, you get to pick and then we start the rotation again from there.” You saw his eyes light up and you were quick to amend, “As long as it isn’t The Meg.” You emphasized your point by pressing all of your fingertips into his sternum, with only slightly more pressure than you’d been touching him with before.

He deflated, an overplayed pout shaping his lips. “Why not? That’s an awesome movie, and Statham’s character is so manly!”

“It was good the first time, sweetie,” you did your best to placate him before you further made your point, “Rewatches two through six were a little rough, and I’m going to be honest, I don’t need to know what seven plus is going to look like.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Fine, I hear you.” You watched a glint of mischief cross his gaze. “What do I get in exchange, though?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Aside from getting to choose the movie even though it’s not your turn?”

“For not getting to choose my favorite movie, yes,” he reasoned.

“Hmm,” you drew out the hum, pretending to consider your ideas, even though a list of options had popped into your head immediately. “Well, I’d be willing to let you pick a second non-megalodon movie, or maybe I could cover your night for dishes a couple times, or I could take your mind off it entirely.” You let your fingertips trail teasingly on his chest as you spoke.

“Oh, yeah?” he questioned, mouth twisting into a smirk. “What would that look like?”

You hummed in approval at his participation in your little game, leaning into him until your lips barely ghosted over his. “You wanna find out?”

-

It was the next evening that you were sitting on the couch, cross-legged and wrapped in a blanket as you picked absentmindedly at your ice cream, some movie on the television only keeping your attention because it was the only thing on. The guys were both working evening shifts, and you’d been home for hours with free run of the house. You’d used the afternoon to clean, blasting music far louder than your neighbors probably preferred, and made dinner, before settling finally where you sat now. Taking the time to reset the space, and therefore your mind, had been helpful in calming some of the stress and residual upset from the last few days. You’d tried everything you could think of to get over it, to will it to stop bothering you, but nothing was working. Bakugo hadn’t just hurt your feelings, he’d invalidated years of effort and care that had gone into building a relationship with him. You’d told him he was acting like a child. He’d told you that you were nothing to him.

Hearing the front door close jostled you from your thoughts, and you glanced down at your phone to see if you’d missed a notification. Eijirou would have texted you that he was on his way home which meant-

There were heavy footfalls coming from the entryway, slow, dragging, tired, but they stopped just outside the living room, and you could feel Bakugo’s gaze burning into the back of your head. You chose not to turn around, not to acknowledge him.

You heard your name then, quiet and ragged, like he was just as exhausted as you were. “Can we talk? Please?”

And the sound of it made your chest hurt. So, despite yourself, despite your lingering anger, you sighed through your nose, sliding over to one side of the couch, pulling your blanket along with you to clear a space for him to sit. He entered the room and rounded the couch slowly, watching carefully for any negative reaction you might have, to occupy the other side of the couch.

And despite him asking to talk, Bakugo sat next to you, not saying anything, for several minutes. The air between you was tense, to say the least, and in the near silence, the movie on the television was suddenly the most interesting thing that ever existed; you simply could not tear your eyes away.

“You’re not actually watching this shitty zombie movie, are you?”

When your gaze slid over to him, there was an irritated scowl on your face, and no warmth in your eyes. The eye-contact was broken almost immediately as Bakugo’s attention snapped to the floor, looking like a scolded child.

Another few minutes passed where the movie was the only sound before you finally heard Bakugo heave a breath; he was ready, or as close to ready as he was going to get. You muted the television to wait.

It seemed to take him a moment to gather his thoughts, but eventually, “I didn’t mean what I said to you the other night.” He let the statement sit in the air, allowing it to take up the space it needed. “I shouldn’t have said any of it, I just-” He tsked. “I mean I was pissed, obviously, but that doesn’t-” Bakugo cut himself off with a frustrated growl.

Your eyebrows rose on their own, though you kept your gaze firmly forward. You remained silent, content to listen to him squirm in this. You’d insisted to Eijirou that Bakugo had to be the one to fix things, that you weren’t just going to get over it and move on. But when your eyes flicked to the side, and you caught him, ears red from embarrassment with fists clenching and unclenching as he chewed on what he wanted to say, your resolve faltered slightly. You continued to watch him from the side of your eyes when he spoke up again.

“I’m sorry.” The statement was solid and flat, leaving no room to challenge it. “For every fucked-up thing I said to you the other night and for acting like an asshole before that too.” Bakugo waited for a moment, still staring at the ground from where he sat. When the silence began to stretch, he began to fidget, clearly uncomfortable with the lack of response. “S-say something, damnit.”

Bakugo looked up then, gaze meeting yours, which had softened some, but was still far from the affection you normally displayed.

“Why were you avoiding me?” you questioned, direct and unyielding. The apology was appreciated, deeply, you knew how hard those were for him. But it wasn’t enough all by itself to repair things.

The man’s eyes widened slightly in shock and his ears went red again as he looked anywhere but at you. “The reason shouldn’t matter if-”

“It matters,” you cut him off, ice in your tone. You let silence take back over, unwilling to fill it just to ease his discomfort.

Bakugo’s jaw snapped shut, teeth grinding together. There was something he didn’t want to admit, written all over his face, and you knew it had to do with his chronic aversion to vulnerability, but you weren’t going to let up until he could talk about it like a fucking adult. He’d come this far already, maybe he would be able to take the extra step.

“It’s embarrassing,” he grumbled, scowl plastered on his mouth like armor.

“What is?” Your eyebrow cocked expectantly as you asked the question, though you knew he wouldn’t see it with the way he was still refusing to look at you.

He huffed in frustration. “I’m a grown man, dumbass, I shouldn’t need to be fucking cuddled to go to sleep.”

“Who says?” you countered incredulously. “Eijirou does sometimes, and hasn’t the internet deemed him like, the pinnacle of manliness at this point?” When Bakugo looked back up at you, clearly shocked by your outburst, you could feel the anger seeping away from you. Your annoyance was still there, sure, but you could see the discomfort and shame mixed in with his irritation and it twisted something in your chest. Your friend was hurting. “Plenty of people have a hard time falling asleep after hard days. I can’t sleep for shit when I’m alone.”

Something you didn’t recognize flashed in his eyes before the same frown found its way back. “It’s not the same thing,” he insisted. “I need to be able to handle things on my own, I can’t-” he stopped his own sentence with a scoff, whether because he didn’t know what to say or didn’t want to, you weren’t sure.

You released a sigh, relenting, “Bakugo, the only person holding you to that standard is you.” You shook your head slightly in exasperation as you continued, “You’re allowed to be vulnerable with people who care about you. You should be vulnerable with people who care about you.”

“It’s not that simple.”

It felt like there was more behind that sentiment, like he wasn’t telling you everything, but you’d pushed him enough, and you didn’t want to ruin the progress the two of you had made in the last several minutes. So instead, you shrugged and agreed, “Maybe it’s not. But you have people that love you, and we want to take care of you, if you’ll let us.” The blond went red across his cheeks and ears, and to stop the dismissive comment that you could almost feel coming, you added with a smirk, “Even if we aren’t really friends.”

Bakugo’s mouth fell open in surprise before he rushed to say, “I already said I didn’t mean that, shithead!”

There was a weight that lifted off your shoulders a bit, the anger in his voice more amusing than it was anything else. A soft but tired smile formed on your lips then, as you felt the air shift almost back to normal around the two of you. “I’m sorry I called you a child.”

“Tch.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be. You were right.” His gruff tone dropped though, when he continued. “I’m going to try to be better about that,” came out as hardly more than a mumble.

You nodded, more to yourself than to him, in acknowledgement. “You know, I promised Eijirou he could pick what we watch for the next couple movie nights as an apology for us cancelling two in a row.”

Bakugo groaned where he sat back, finally relaxing into the couch. “He’s going to pick that garbage giant shark movie again.”

You chuckled at his distaste, happy to be assured you weren’t the only one tired of it. “No, I told him it was off limits, that he could pick pretty much anything else.”

“At least we won’t have to deal with the accent, then.”

-

When Eijirou finally got home hours later, eyes barely open as he dragged himself through the hall, he found you in the bedroom, still awake, as you always were on his late nights, even when you had your own job in the morning.

He was quick to change his clothes and hummed appreciatively at the sight of your sleepy smile and the grabby hands at the ends of your open and waiting arms. “Hello, absolutely gorgeous love of my life,” he cooed as he approached.

“Hello to you, my mountain of incredible boyfriend,” you responded, wrapping your arms around his waist the moment he was close enough to do so. “How was superhero-ing today?” The question was pushed carefully from your chest as you did everything to control your breathing so Eijirou wouldn’t hear that he was squishing you. You were sure he already knew, but if he thought even for a moment he was hurting you, he’d move, and you couldn’t stand the idea of him getting back up now that you had him.

“Mm, exhausting.” Eijirou pulled away far enough to prop himself up, then leaned in to plant a long, lingering kiss on your lips. “But I’m home now and I can hold you in my arms, and I’m pretty sure that’s everything I’ve ever needed in life, so I’m good.”

Your heart swelled as you shook your head and listened to your boyfriend speak, squishy and affectionate as always. “Aw, you big sappy loverboy. What am I going to do with you?”

He pulled his weight off of you and rolled over to lay down for real, almost mimicking your grabby hands from only a few moments ago. “Hopefully, you’re gonna come snuggle.”

As if there was any place you’d rather be. You happily adjusted yourself to fully lay down, well within his reach, so that he could grab you and pull your back into his chest as was his standard routine. Sleep had already begun to take over his voice when he asked, “Things any better with Bakugo today?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly as your hands rubbed over his arms where they were secured around your waist, “We talked; we’re good.”

“Good.” The energy in his words was dropping almost as fast as the volume, and you knew he would be fighting to stay awake for any longer than another moment or two. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

You smiled to yourself, sleep also reaching into the edges of your awareness as you laid curled into the warmth and safety or his embrace. “I love you, Eiji.”

“I love you too.”

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[aro-of-argentum]

Red Dahlia- Chapter 10

WC: 6,770

Notes: Alfred comes to get Jason, Jason finally gets the reader's phone number, Marcy gets filled in (kinda), we finally hear about reader's past, mentions of both Green and Red Arrow. Bruce continues to be a bad dad in the background of this, just a heads up, but Alfred has decided he likes the reader by the end of this one.

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

Previous Chapter, Masterlist, Next Chapter

Chapter 10:

You had just gotten dressed after a quick shower when you heard a knock on the door. A glance back toward the bedroom told you Jason was still asleep, so when you pulled the front door open slightly and saw the white-mustached man on the other side, your voice was hushed as you asked, “Alfred?”

He raised an eyebrow in return and responded with skepticism, “And I suppose that makes you Dahlia.”

You nodded quickly and closed the door to pull the chain out and open it again to usher the man inside. “He’s asleep,” You began once you’d closed the door, “I can go wake him up so you can-”

“Is he stable?” Alfred asked pointedly.

You found yourself caught off guard by his borderline hostility, but you understood, given the situation. “Yes. And he’s coherent when he’s awake. Healing nicely, too, but he’ll still need to rest for a while before he can do much moving around at all, let alone be back out on patrol.”

Alfred’s eyebrow arched as he listened. “You assume he is incapable of working while injured.”

“No,” You almost snapped. “I didn’t say he couldn’t, I said he shouldn’t. I’m well aware that nothing will stop him if he decides he’s too bored to sit still.”

A short huff escaped the man in front of you and a small smile crept onto his face for a moment. “I have that issue with him as well, though I can hardly say the others are much better.”

You nodded in understanding that it must be far worse for someone patching up all of Gotham’s vigilantes, rather than just one. “He’s okay. He just needs time,” you said, gaze trailing toward the bedroom door. “Would you like to see him?”

“Yes.” He gave a single nod as he spoke.

As you crossed the room, you noticed that Alfred stayed behind, clearly waiting for a go-ahead before moving. When you entered the room, Jason was still asleep, and you sat down on the bed next to him and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. “Jason, there’s someone here to see you. It’s time to wake up.” You brought your hand up to the right side of his face, gently stroking your thumb over his cheekbone as he began to stir. A smile crossed your features when you saw Jason’s face scrunch slightly. “Hey.”

Without opening his eyes, Jason responded, “Hey, Sweetheart,” before grasping your hand with his own to plant a kiss on your palm. “How long was I out?”

“Little over an hour,” You answered. “Alfred is here for you.”

Jason’s gaze was drawn toward the living room by the nod you gave in Alfred’s direction, and Alfred took the eye contact as invitation enough.

“Master Jason, I’m happy to see you alive.” Alfred walked to the other side of the bed as he spoke. “The lack of communication from you has had the team quite worried.”

Jason huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve been a little out of it for a couple of days.” His tone shifted more to concern as he continued, “Did you tell anyone where I am?”

“No. The only person who knows I’m in contact with you is Master Cassandra; the others believe me to be at an appointment with my physician.”

The younger man gave a nod in response to Alfred before his eyes drew to you as you moved to exit the room. He returned the soft smile you shot him to excuse yourself and give the pair some privacy. “Thanks for coming, Alfred.”

“Of course. Would you like to explain to me the events of the last several days?”

Jason took time to inform Alfred of everything he remembered, from collaborating with Superman, to meeting with his Underground contacts in Gotham and being ambushed, to waking up in your apartment already being patched up. “I honestly didn’t even know if I’d make it all the way here, but Y/n made sure I stayed alive once I was.”

Alfred didn’t look up from where he was checking on the stitches in Jason’s side as he spoke. “You thought yourself on death’s door and you came to see her instead of your family?” He looked up to find an apologetic look covering Jason’s face in pain.

“Alfred, I-”

He held up his hand in a request for quiet. “I only meant that it is clear you care for her. Deeply. Though I could have guessed this without the missing persons investigation being hosted in the manor’s basement.”

“I do. But I am sorry for scaring everyone.”

“They will be relieved to see that you are recovering.”

“See?” Jason questioned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when we return-”

“Who said I was leaving?” Jason’s defensive interruption was taken in stride, Alfred well aware what the young man’s feelings would be on the matter.

“Master Jason, I am unsure if you’ve taken note of the state of yourself, but you need to be examined by use of professional equipment. As talented as she may be, your Dahlia does not have the resources required to appropriately monitor you after such an encounter.” The urgency in Alfred’s tone served as an indicator that the man was putting his foot down on the subject. Jason would be returning to the manor.

Jason ground his teeth, furious at his lack of voice in the matter. “Do I at least get a goodbye, or am I getting dragged out as is?”

A dejected sigh left Alfred and his demeanor shifted to something closer to understanding. “I will give you a few minutes, then we will get you dressed, and we will go.” The older man turned and walked out of the bedroom, stopping to clear his throat politely for your attention. When you looked up at him, Alfred nodded slightly toward the bedroom and watched as you set down what was clearly Jason’s copy of ‘Persuasion.’

You were on your feet and walking to the bedroom as soon as you saw the stern nod. “Jay?” When you pushed the door open, you found him fuming. “What’s wrong?”

“Alfred’s decided I’m going back to Wayne Manor.”

A pang of sadness ran through your chest before logic took over. “That’s a good thing though, isn’t it? You’ll be able to have an actual doctor look at you, get a chest x-ray, check for brain damage.”

He scoffed, “You too, huh?”

You were quick to take a seat next to him on the bed before speaking again. “Jason, you know I’m happy to take care of you; I will always stitch you up. But if your brain was swelling, or if one of your ribs had punctured a lung, you would have died here, and there wouldn’t have been anything I could do.”

He deflated, guilt creeping into his expression for the second time.

You took his right hand in both of yours and kissed his knuckles. “Besides, you and I are fine. Going home to rest and recover isn’t going to change that, okay?”

He nodded slightly, “Okay.”

“And hey,” you started as you ran your fingers through his hair on the side opposite the newly forming scar, “Once you’re all put together again then maybe you can come spend the night on purpose.”

Jason’s eyebrow quirked up slightly and a mischievous smile donned his face. “Yeah? I thought you might want to get rid of me after the last few days.”

“Never.” You shook your head as you spoke. “I don’t think I could get rid of you even if I wanted to, because now you definitely owe me a life debt.”

A small huff of a laugh left the man’s chest. “Yeah, I guess I should get used to the idea, shouldn’t I?”

It took you off guard when you saw his expression soften and worry crossed through his eyes. “Jay?”

“This is going to sound stupid.”

“No, hey,” You immediately reassured him, thumb running gently over his cheekbone. “What is it?”

“Can we start hanging out?” His nerves pushed into the question through his voice, and he cleared his throat before continuing, “During the day, I mean. Without the suit and helmet, just us, as people, and I can walk you home, or take you out or whatever.”

The smile that crossed your features was felt through your entire body. “I would love to,” you nearly whispered as you leaned down to press your lips to his. When you pulled away after a moment, Jason’s features twisted into something akin to a pout, and your jaw fell open in shock. “You better put that lip away. You need to go.”

He gave a playful roll of his eyes to indicate he knew before pressing another peck to the corner of your mouth. “Will you send Alfred in here please?” He resigned to ask.

“Of course.” You quickly rose from the bed and met Alfred in the living room. “He’s ready for you, and he’s not going to put up a fight about going.”

Alfred’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Quite a feat. How did you manage it?”

“By reminding him that he has to be alive to be stubborn,” you started, “And that I don’t have the equipment to make any guarantees. We got lucky with how much of it I could even work on. If any little thing had been different…”

The gentleman nodded in confirmation as you spoke. “I’m glad you and I see eye-to-eye on the matter. And that he seems to understand logic when you are the one to present it.”

A small smile formed on your face then disappeared just as quickly as something occurred to you. “Alfred?”

The man had already begun his walk to your bedroom, and so turned back to face you again. “Yes?”

“I understand that you don’t know me, so I’m not in any position to ask for favors,” You paused for a moment to attempt to calm the anxiety swelling in your chest. “If I could stay anonymous in your family, just for a little while longer, I would really appreciate it.”

His eyes narrowed as the trust you’d gained from him now hung in the balance. “May I ask why?”

You had to swallow the lump in your throat before you could explain. “I have a history that I’m trying to be better than. And I don’t want to leave him. But if the Justice League finds out who, and more importantly where, I am, then I won’t be able to stay here.”

Alfred allowed silence to fill the space as he weighed his options, carefully observing your behavior in this moment of vulnerability. When he’d come to a decision he spoke up. “If you decide that staying here for him is worth that risk, then you and I will have further conversation about this when he has recovered. If you decide that it is not worth the risk, that is your prerogative, however I would hope your goodbyes were enough.”

You nodded, understanding the choice he now laid out for you. You could stay, and hope that he wouldn’t say anything, which came with the risk of the Green Arrow finding out where you were, or you could play it safe and disappear, and never see Jason again. “I’ll get his things.”

It only took a moment for you to collect the duffle from the closet and check that all the pieces of the Red Hood uniform were still inside, while Alfred helped Jason get changed. When they came out, Alfred was supporting most of Jason’s weight from his left side, and the younger man looked harried, but he was standing at least.

“Ready?” You asked, pulling the duffle over your shoulder, book in hand.

“Miss Y/n, I’m afraid-” Alfred started, but you were quick to interrupt him.

“I know I can’t go with you, but I figured the least I could do to help would be to carry his stuff down, given that you’re carrying him.”

Alfred gave a nod in agreement and Jason’s eyes lit up with pride. He shot you a wink and you rolled your eyes good naturedly at him before moving to open the door. Getting Jason down to the lobby via the elevator proved to be much easier than it had been to get him down from the roof, and Alfred managed to get him into the passenger seat of the car with relative ease. You set the duffle bag in the back seat before leaning down to Jason’s window.

“I’ll see you later?” He questioned, doing his best to look and sound less exhausted than he felt.

You returned his smile and responded, “How else am I supposed to get my bag back?” before handing him the book you’d brought down. “Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Sweetheart.”

You looked toward Alfred, who sat patiently waiting in the driver’s seat, and nodded to him.

“Thank you for your call, Miss Y/n.”

“Of course.” You gave a half smile in return as you saw the glint of curiosity in his eyes, and you wondered if he might be trying to guess what your decision would be. After you stood up, the car pulled away and you went back upstairs with a knot in your stomach. The safest thing to do was leave, but in the last few days you’d become aware of how deeply you cared for Jason, how rooted he was in your heart. The choice became clear all too easily. You’d stay in Gotham and hope that Alfred was willing to hear you out.

-

It was hours later that your phone buzzed, a text coming through from a number you didn’t yet have programmed into your phone.

“Phone number in the front cover of the book was a nice touch.”

A smile drew across your face as you realized who it was and texted back, “Clever, right?”

His reply came back right away. “So clever I almost didn’t catch it. The only reason I found it was because I dropped the book and saw the little paper sticking out. I thought you left a bookmark.”

“Note to self: Jason has a hard time with subtle.”

“I mean I did show up at your apartment actually dying to try to get you back.”

You snorted at how casually he brought it up, like he wasn’t still grievously injured. “Not funny.” You typed.

“Kinda funny.”

“You need to wait until you can walk by yourself for that to be funny.”

“Ouch. But fair.”

A nervousness came over you for a moment as you asked, “Did you find out if you’re going to make it?”

It took a while before his response came back. “Yeah, so turns out I have a pretty bad concussion, and a bunch of bruising inside and out. But no broken bones and Alfred says my bullet holes are healing “incredibly quickly,” so I can’t complain too much.”

Your heart ached at the idea that that list of injuries was normal to him. “Sometimes I forget that shit like this is just part of the life you live.”

“All part of the job, Sweetheart.” He responded first, before another message appeared beneath it. “Helps to have a gorgeous super-genius for a doctor though ;)”

His antics made you chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You wound me.”

“How’s everyone else doing with all of it?” You questioned.

“Mostly just happy they don’t have to keep looking for me I think.”

“That can’t be true. I’m sure they’re all glad you’re home and safe.”

“For the most part, yeah. Bruce is pissed, but that’s normal.”

You balked at your phone. “He just found out his missing kid is alive and he’s mad?”

“Even started lecturing me about what mistakes I made on the mission. Alfred got him off my back for now by telling him I needed to rest.”

A protective anger bubbled in the pit of your stomach, but there wasn’t anything you could do, and you didn’t want to get Jason riled up, so you did your best to let it go. “You should be resting.” You texted. “And you definitely shouldn’t be staring at a phone screen with a concussion like that.” No message came back after that. Instead, your phone rang, and you answered, “So this is the solution?”

“I’m not staring at a screen now though, am I?” There was a sass to his tone that made you chuckle, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice when he asked, “Any plans for the evening now that I’m not in your hair?”

“Probably just to clean up my bedroom; wash the sheets since there’s been a strange man sleeping on them for a few days.”

“Oh, I qualify as a strange man now?” He questioned with mock offense.

You adjusted to sit more comfortably on the couch now that you no longer needed to be able to type. “Need I remind you I learned your name less than a week ago?”

“I told you my name at the bar, Sweetheart.”

You scoffed. “And I was supposed to know that was you?”

“You knew.”

“I had a well-educated guess,” you corrected. “I didn’t know for sure until I took your helmet off of you on my kitchen floor.”

“You knew.”

“I knew.” The admission came with a sigh and a roll of your eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because Marcy can’t hold her liquor, remember?”

He chuckled, “Oh, that’s right, I forgot about that.”

“Besides, it would have been a weird place for that right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just standing in a crowded dive bar asking a Wayne if he’s the masked man that’s been following me home every night?”

“Mm,” He hummed in affirmation. “I hear it now. Yeah, that would have been rough.” Jason listened to you laugh slightly before asking, “How is she, anyway? I know you took a couple days off; does she know you’re okay?”

“I took a couple weeks off, Jay. I don’t have to go back until the beginning of February. And she knows I’m okay, she’s fine.”

“Does she know why you’ve been gone?” he questioned cautiously.

“She knows something happened to you because I wouldn’t tell her anything, and she knows it was bad because of how much time I took off. Oh, and since we’re on the subject, she kind of knows about the fight too.” You hadn’t planned to bring up the last part, but figured it was as good a time as any to mention it. You were quick to clarify, “She thinks it was about us going public though.”

Jason took a moment to process the information you’d given him as he laid against his headboard. “So, your best friend thinks that we got into a fight about whether or not to go public, and then I disappeared for over a month, and then something happened to me and you’re taking time off work because of it.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

A silence stretched between the two of you again as Jason thought. “I think you should be as honest with her as you can be without telling her about my night job.”

You shrugged to yourself as you considered it. That was what you had been doing already anyway. “Okay, so what do we want that to look like?”

-

You and Jason had spent the rest of the evening on the phone, occasionally interrupted on his end by Alfred or one of his siblings coming to check on him. He hadn’t told any of them that he was on the phone with you, only ushered them out of his room as quickly as possible before returning to the topic of conversation. One such discussion was what to tell Marcy, and though you’d come up with a plan together, you were still nervous about how it would go. It was a few days later that you were in the small diner booth alone for only a couple of minutes before she showed.

When Marcy slid into the booth across from you, her eyes were squinted skeptically. “Are we still keeping secrets or do you have stuff to tell me.”

“Do you want me to just lay it all out, or do you want to ask questions?” You asked, knowing already that she’d likely say both.

“Explanation first, questions after to cover anything you miss.” She seemed to relax at the idea that she would no longer be kept in the dark.

“I am dating Jason Todd.”

“I KNEW IT!” She yelled before you promptly shushed her. “I knew it,” she whispered this time. “I saw the two of you at the bar, and I knew it. And you lied to me.”

“Don’t do that. You know I couldn’t say anything. We weren’t-”

She huffed, “I know, I know, I get it. It makes sense you were so worried about the going public thing; him being a Wayne and all.”

You nodded as she spoke, confirming her theories. “We had that fight that I told you about-”

“And then he stopped talking to you for a month.”

“Marcy…” You used her name to warn her, but she bulldozed it.

“I don’t give a shit what happened, it’s unacceptable, and-”

“Marcy, he was in a car accident.”

She froze. “Oh,” guilt covered her face as realization dawned.

You took a moment before continuing with the story you and Jason had decided on together. “We had that fight and he got into a car wreck a couple days later and was in a hospital, unresponsive, for weeks.”

There was a pity in her eyes when she asked, “Do you know what happened?”

“Yeah, um,” You caught yourself getting emotional about the truth of the situation, but knew you needed to stick to the non-vigilante explanation. “He was in Metropolis on business for Wayne Tech., walking downtown, and he got hit by someone taking a corner way too fast. I guess he was a John Doe for a while until someone recognized him and got ahold of his father.” The word felt odd as a descriptor for Bruce, given that you’d never heard Jason refer to him that way. “I only found out when he was stable enough to call me himself.”

“His family didn’t call you?” She questioned pointedly.

“They didn’t know, Marce.”

She sucked her teeth in annoyance. “Do they know now at least?”

“Yes, and I’ve met their butler, Alfred, but no one else. Jay said he needed to be back in fighting shape before I could meet the rest of his family.” You smiled and shook your head at the thought; that part of the story being completely true. He’d said he needed to be able to defend you “just in case” and it had made you laugh. “He’s worried his brothers won’t leave me alone.”

Marcy sat with her thoughts for a moment and her face turned sour, like she was grumpy with herself. “I’m less mad about it now.”

“Then why is your face still broken?” You questioned.

“Because I want to still be mad at him but you’re all sparkly about him.” She scoffed as she threw one hand dismissively to the side. “And he’s fixing the one issue I had which was the part where he didn’t want anyone to know about the two of you. So how am I supposed to stay pissed, babe?”

“Maybe you don’t?” You offered. “And maybe it’s time Marcy gives up her mopey single life and starts actually sticking to things, so I don’t get yelled at for being in a relationship?”

Her eyebrows furrowed at you. “Ew, are you accusing me of having commitment issues?”

You only squinted and cocked your head to the side slightly in response.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Heard.” There was a moment of quiet before Marcy spoke again, all the sass gone from her tone. “You two are okay, though? You talked and got it figured out? I don’t want him breaking your heart like that again.”

You smiled softly at your best friend as you nodded. “We’re good, and I appreciate you looking out for me.” Your hand reached across the table and Marcy was quick to take it and squeeze.

“Good. I don’t care whose son he is; I’ll kick his ass if he ever does something like that again.”   

You laughed. “I believe you.”

-

“Hey Sweetheart, how’d it go?” Jason asked, voice sounding gravely as he answered the phone.

“Oh shit,” You froze, cursing yourself for not texting first. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, but I-”

“I’ll call you later, go back to sleep.” You thought you heard a clipped version of your name come through as you hung up the call, and it only took a moment before your phone started ringing. “Jay, you need your rest.”

He gave a small snort of amusement at your continued attempts to care for him, even through the phone. “I’ve been sleeping all day, I’m fine. Talk to me.”

You sighed as you thought about your morning with Marcy and how your conversations had gone. “It went well, I think. She’s not upset on my behalf anymore which is good, but now she’s digging for details since she “missed out” on all the gossip from the beginning.” You threw air quotes around the words though you knew he couldn’t see you.

“Details like what?”

“Like how we met, for one.”

“Oof. Classified.”

“Obviously.” Your tone conspiratorial as you explained, “I told her I ran into you in the street and gave you advice about a cut on your hand.”

“Really? Wow, did you know who I was or was I just some guy?” He asked.

“No, I had no idea,” You confessed dramatically. “I was just trying to be nice because I saw you with a really shitty wrap on your hand. And then when you asked for my number, I decided you were good looking enough for me to give it to you.”

“I’ve never forgotten about an insult so quickly in my life. You thought I was good looking?”

“Gorgeous.” You continued to play up the story for him as you gave him the same information you’d given Marcy, “But you had kind of an attitude when I tried to tell you how you could fix the bandage, so I didn’t really know if we were going to go anywhere at first.”

“What do you mean attitude? I never-”

You jumped in, “Jason, you threatened to kill me the first time you came to my apartment conscious.”

“Ohhh fuck, I forgot about that.” He stretched the first word in realization.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You poked at him with a playful attitude of your own now. “And you’ve had at least one other concussion since then, so don’t worry I won’t hold it against you that you didn’t remember.”

He chuckled softly and you could hear the smile on his face as he spoke, “Thanks.”

“Always,” the small victory was evident in your voice. “But anyway, I told her we started talking and seeing each other as privately as possible, that we agreed to keep things out of public eye for the sake of not having to deal with the media, and that things were for the most part going really well. At least until the accident, that is.”

“Right. I mean, a hit and run can really throw a wrench into things, yeah.”

“Yes, but now you’re fine, and we’re fine, and Marcy is all caught up. She doesn’t feel like she’s missing a chunk of my life anymore.”

“Especially since we’ll be spending time together while I’m not in the suit, which means you’ll be able to answer questions without lying.”

“True.” You nodded along as he spoke.

“And hey,” Jason started, “I’m not planning on a press release or anything, but you know how tabloids and even the papers report on my family sometimes. Are you going to be okay? I don’t want it to cause issues for you at your job or anything.”

There was quiet from your end of the call for a moment before you let out an audible hesitation. “Um…”

“You can be honest with me.”

Not about this you couldn’t. Not yet anyway. You heaved a breath before answering. “If it happens, it happens, but can we try to avoid it?”

His response was resolute. “I will do my best.”

-

Just as you had been instructed, you walked into the very nice restaurant exactly at 7pm, gave the name Dahlia to the woman at the host stand, and immediately followed her to the back of the building, where there was a secluded room, with only one man in it. Alfred Pennyworth waited for you at the table. He gave the hostess a nod and the woman quickly turned and left the room.

There was an anxiety planted deeply in your chest at the circumstances before you, and every bit of your body wanted to leave, but you knew the reason for being here, and you knew he was worth it. Before you could formulate a greeting, Alfred spoke up.

“Please, take a seat.” He gestured to the chair across from him and watched you carefully as you sat down. “I apologize for the theatrics, but when circumstances call for privacy, they often call for drama as well. You look lovely.” His tone was softer for the last part and he seemed to smile in an attempt to comfort you.

“Oh, thank you,” you replied, barely able to find your voice. A nervous chuckle bubbled in your throat as you continued, “This is one of the only really nice outfits I own; I’m glad it’s appropriate.”

“Completely,” he assured. “Shall we order first and then have our conversation, or do you prefer food to wait until after more serious discussions are done?” When you didn’t give a response Alfred looked up to find a somewhat panicked expression on your face. “You do not need to worry about your safety right now, Miss Y/n. I can guarantee that regardless of the result of this conversation, nothing will happen to you while we are in this building.”

You nodded in understanding and took a moment to swallow the lump in your throat before you responded. “I’d like to wait.”

“Understood.” He adjusted in his seat before leveling an intense gaze on you. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The only correct way to do this was to tell the truth and hope he would be understanding, there was no merit to lying, not now after you’d decided to stay. You took a breath to steady yourself before you spoke. From the beginning. “I used to live in Star City. I was in med school to become a surgeon, but what I really wanted to work on was stem cell research and what their applications toward cancer treatment could be. I started working on research projects at school but each time I put in applications to begin running experiments I was rejected by the board because the Oncology department head didn’t want a student heading a paper that may have surpassed his own. So, I purchased the supplies I needed, including some things that couldn’t be purchased legally, and set up a small lab for myself in the second bedroom of my apartment. I started running the experiments I wanted to in my own home, and used my own blood and stem cells as material components for the formulas I was producing.” You looked to Alfred and found him listening intently, but giving no indication of his feelings.

“The goal was to produce a treatment that would kill cancer cells and replace them with functional healthy cells, and leave enough leftover perfectly programmed antibodies to immediately destroy any new cancer cells that may pop up as the body recovered. But there were many versions that were ineffective, as I assumed there would be, and I ran out of my testable cancerous blood supply before I could get the formula right. I pivoted, and started working on a version of the formula that would be able use those same stem cells to promote rapid cell growth and repair; to heal people, or at least aid the healing process. I didn’t manage to finish it until I moved here two years ago.” You took a moment to consider whether this was really what you wanted to do, and ultimately decided to continue.

“I am here because my father is dead. He was on the city council, and was going to be a deciding vote for a major decision on city infrastructure that would have put money into the upper-class neighborhoods, and removed mass amounts of low income housing. People were pissed, there were death threats, and then he went missing. I’d been at the hospital for days, and he’d stopped answering my texts and calls, and when I went to his house, he wasn’t there, so I reported him missing. Later that night I went back to my own apartment and found my father’s body, already partially decomposed, with one of the nonviable cancer formula vials in his hand. The formula attacked his normal cells, killing him, and breaking down his entire abdominal cavity in days. I had no idea what to do, so I called my best friend, who I believe you’d know better as Red Arrow. When he got there, he told me the police were getting a warrant to search my apartment, because I’d since become a suspect in the case of my father’s disappearance.”

You saw Alfred’s eyebrow quirk, and you took it as a request for further explanation. “The ordinance also called for knocking down the only hospital in the area. That meant the hospital I worked for was going to be receiving an influx of patients, and the board of directors decided the money currently being spent on research would be better spent on the resources needed to cover the extra workload. I was a suspect because his vote would have inadvertently shut down my research, and I’m the person with the easiest access to him. And when I found out I was going to have my place searched and that they would find my father, dead in my apartment, killed by a compound I made, right before a big vote that would’ve negatively affected me, I knew I was going to jail. Red though, decided on his own that I was not going to jail, and that he was going to get me out before Green Arrow could come after me. He found a clerical error in the warrant and got it thrown out, and he bought out my lease, and he somehow got me papers to get out. I was gone before Arrow got to me, and I got put up on the missing persons list too. I think we’ve both been assumed dead, but the Star City police haven’t found anything to confirm it.”

When you finally looked back up at Alfred, he was still and stoic; processing, you assumed.

“Do you think you are guilty of murder.”

“Not of murder,” you responded. “But a person who puts a gun in a suicidal man’s hands isn’t innocent.”

“Your father was suicidal?” Alfred questioned. He knew the answer, though. He’d discovered it in the research that he’d been doing in his every moment of free time in the last week. He knew your father was suicidal, and abusive, and neglectful, and subject to bribery in his profession. Alfred also knew your mother had passed from an incredibly aggressive blood cancer just months before you and your father went “missing.” You’d been a decorated student and a celebrated up-and-coming surgeon, and then you seemed instantly gone. And Alfred had the evidence of all of it on the thumb drive that sat between the two of you on the table.

“My father was a lot of things. After my mom died, he came to my apartment drunk one night, asking why I didn’t do anything to save her. I told him I’d tried, and that all of my failed attempts were right there by my equipment. I didn’t think he’d even remember, let alone…” Your sentence died in your throat as the guilt you’d been running from resurfaced, but you needed to continue. “I’m worried that if Green Arrow learns where I am, he might put me away before I’ve had time to do better, to try to help people.”

Alfred nodded, the first indication of emotion since your monologue began. “Is that everything?”

“I think so,” you admitted.

“Very well.” The man pushed a button near the side of the table and in an instant a server had appeared. Alfred looked to the young man before speaking. “Two, and a wine list please.”

As the server moved away, Alfred turned back to you and picked up off the table a flash drive which you previously had not noticed. “What is that?” You asked, nerves tightening your stomach and chest almost to the point of tears at the unknown in front of you. You didn’t want to lose everything you’d finally begun building again. You’d perfected the healing compound and had the foundations for others, you had friends… you had Jason.

“This is every copy of every scrap of the last six months of your life in Star City.” He held eye contact with you as he dropped it into his glass of water just as the server was returning with the wine menu. He gestured toward you and said, “Whatever you’d like.”

The first course came out, and while you were relieved at the decision Alfred seemed to have made, you still hadn’t shaken the anxiety of the encounter.

“Rest assured your secrets are safe with me, Miss Y/n. You can relax,” He attempted to reassure you. “I would recommend telling the young Master of your past if you haven’t already.”

A feeling between guilt and shame came over you and your head fell. “I want to.” You hesitated. “I just… I see the way he talks about himself. He’s convinced he can’t be good because of the things he’s done. I’m worried he’ll feel the same about me.”

Alfred’s face curled into a smirk as he chuckled and brought his napkin up to wipe his mouth. “I doubt that he would. Regardless, I can understand your hesitance, and I’ll give you space to tell him when and how you please.”

The genuine relaxed nature of Alfred’s posture and tone put you at ease a bit, and you finally found yourself able to eat. The rest of the meal was calm, and the two of you made more casual conversation through four courses.

As Alfred signed the receipt at the end of the meal he asked, “Would you like me to take you home?”

“Oh, I can walk, it’s-”

“I’d be happy to take you home.” His tone implied no room for argument, so you accepted.

It wasn’t until you got home that you finally checked your phone and found a text, over an hour old, from Jason.

“Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have superpowers?”

Your face scrunched slightly as you thought about his strength and agility not necessarily being considered “super,” but certainly well above what most people were capable of. “Don’t you kind of already?”

“’Gun’ is not a superpower.” came back almost immediately, so you knew he was awake and probably bored.

“Not what I meant.”

“Sure, but I mean flight, or telepathy or super speed.”

You answered honestly, “I guess I haven’t thought about it much? Superpowers don’t solve everything, and it seems like a lot of pressure.”

“So, you don’t want them sometimes? Even a little bit?”

“I think there’s other ways to help people.” You sent that message immediately followed by another. “You know, like ‘Gun.’”

“I was not fishing for that.” He responded.

“Weird. I must’ve meant it then.”

Jason sat staring at his phone with a soft smile on his face, unsure of how to respond, and doing his best not to rebut the compliment. He opted to instead change the topic. “I miss you.”

You responded with, “It’s only been a week.” And then a second message, “I miss you too.”

Jason’s smile only grew, and he began typing again. “You’re going to get sick of me when they let me out of this house.”

“Try me.”

Tag List: @4rachn3, @lettucel0ver, @m-0ona, @chrrybkt

[aro-of-argentum]

Suppression AND Red Dahlia both getting updates tonight?? Who does this bitch think they are?

[aro-of-argentum]

Omg completely forgot to ask in all the excitement, but could I please be added to the tag list of Red Dahlia? ((o(^∇^)o))

Yeah, you got it 🫡🫡 thank you for reading!!

[aro-of-argentum]

Guys I’m 15k words into a fic I told myself was gonna be a “shorter one.” Apparently I don’t know what the fuck that means anymore 🫠🫠

[aro-of-argentum]

Red Dahlia- Chapter 9

WC: 6,095

Notes: Jason and the reader finally talk about what happened, Jason tells reader about his past, the man is starved for affection and the reader is starting to help with that, Jason is a flirt, Reader makes a phone call to one Mr. Pennyworth. Most of this chapter is just conversations between the two of them.

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

Previous Chapter, Masterlist, Next Chapter

Chapter 9:

Jason had stayed asleep for most of the day, even though the anesthetics were long worn off. You continued to give him pain meds every few hours, or whenever he started to fidget, and had been changing his bandages as needed. The total for you so far was 44 consecutive waking hours, but you found that no matter how exhausted you were, you couldn’t settle enough to sleep. You knew you needed to, and you wanted to, but each time you attempted to lie down on the couch for at least a nap, the worry that something might happen to Jason while you slept kept you awake.

Now, you had an almost empty IV bag of saline attached to your arm as you sat on the couch and flipped through channels with the television on mute to kill time until it ran out. You paused for a moment on a news story from Metropolis about Superman taking down some mob boss, apparently incredibly dangerous, before turning the TV off all together. You tried to convince yourself that you’d survive not sleeping until he got better, but at this point you felt like you could barely stand without an adrenaline rush, and you weren’t keeping anything down unless it came through the IV line.

A cough sounded from your bedroom followed by a strained, “Ow,” and you heaved a breath as you pulled the IV from your arm and rose from the couch. Jason was looking around the room confused when you entered, knocking on the slightly ajar door before stepping in.

“Hey,” was your tired greeting, paired with a soft smile. You were certain there was exhaustion all over your face, but you hoped he would be able to see relief there too. Most of what you could read on Jason’s face when he saw you was shock.

“Am I dead?” There was a concerned and almost panicked tone in his voice that struck at your heart.

You were quick to reassure him. “No. You’re in my apartment. You’re safe, and you are going to be okay.”

 He took a shaky breath in, stopping with a wince when he had to because of his damaged ribs. A hard swallow bobbed in his throat before he responded with a nod, “Okay.”

“Do you remember what happened?” You asked, cautiously taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “You didn’t tell me much.”

A flash of shame crossed his eyes. “I was ambushed. There were eight guys, and a couple of them had armor piercing ammo.”

You huffed. “Yeah, that I do know. I still have one on my counter.” You shook your head to yourself for a moment before you continued. “You’re probably the luckiest man alive to not have been hit in places I couldn’t fix here. No bones or organs…”

“That was probably on purpose actually.”

Your face scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The guy I was after, Morgan Edge,” he clarified, “He doesn’t like to let people off the hook easy. He probably wanted to make sure I didn’t die too quickly.” Jason couldn’t watch the pain that crossed your face at that, so he averted his gaze and continued. “Edge usually only has to deal with Superman; was probably pissed I was snooping around.”

A flash of memory from the news just a moment ago appeared in your mind. “That’s the guy you were going after? And you didn’t have any back up or-”

“I was just supposed to be getting information from an old contact.” He interrupted gently and waited for you to nod in acceptance before he continued. “He must’ve heard I was coming for him; wanted to remove me from the equation, I guess.”

You nodded again, content to take any information he’d be willing to share, even if it meant hearing the details of his almost death.

“I remember being surrounded and getting shot… a few times. I took out everybody else in that alley, but I knew I didn’t have a lot of time, so I-” His eyes darted toward you and found you staring back at him. “I need you to know I didn’t come here expecting this.” He made a vague gesture toward himself with his hands. “I just needed to see you, I needed to apologize for-” He let his head drop back softly against the pillows bracing his back and closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Jason, we don’t have to have that conversation right now. We can talk about it later, you’re still-”

“No.” He stopped you. “It’s been long enough. I was going to come see you after I got this mission taken care of anyway. We should talk.”

You shook your head slightly at the idea and looked at him directly before relenting to speak. “I’m still upset about all of it. I have guesses but no actual answers on why everything went down the way it did, and no matter how many times I tried to get ahold of you, you just-” You stopped, and clenched and unclenched your fists a couple of times to try to calm down.

Jason nodded in guilty admittance. “You’re right.”

Tears sprung to your eyes as emotions overwhelmed you. “You can’t do that to me again. We need to be able to talk about things. Even if it isn’t right away. But you can’t just disappear for a month. You made an assumption about how I felt, and I know I did the same, but when I tried to explain, you ignored me, and you left, and then you were just gone. For weeks.” Your voice was dripping with hurt as your eyes released the tears in them. “I didn’t know if I was ever going to see you again and it broke my fucking heart, and then out of nowhere you’re here, and you’re dying in my arms, and you’re telling me that you-” You cut yourself off with an angry scoff and your hands were quick to wipe your cheeks before you spoke again. “I just- You can’t do that again. You can’t.”

“I know.” He nodded again, not wanting to interrupt, but wanting to make sure you knew he was taking in your words. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m here now, though, and I’m not going anywhere.”

A halfhearted smile pulled at your lips at his playful gesture to his bandages, and you hung your head. “I just needed to know that you wanted to show me; that you weren’t just doing it because I’d all but asked you to.”

“No, Sweetheart. I’ve wanted you to know who I am for a long time.”

You brought your head back up, tilted slightly in question. “How long?”

“Halloween, I think. I realized I wanted to always walk you home, be able to hold your hand, and have you know I’m there. I’ve only been able to do that one other time under the mask… It’s not enough.” He gave a shrug with his right side as though the reason was obvious. “I was scared you would like the mystery of it all more than you would’ve wanted to know. I didn’t- I don’t,” He corrected himself, as he was acutely aware that he hadn’t actually clarified the next part of his sentence with you, “I don’t want you to be disappointed about me being the one under the helmet.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head as you balked at him. “Right, sure, just an incredibly thoughtful, kind, smart, beautiful, enormous man under there. Jason Todd, anyone who would be disappointed to see you is out of their fucking mind.”

His eyes were wide as he stared at you. “Would you come here please?” He reached for you with his right hand and once you’d stepped close enough for him to get an okay grip, he pulled you down into the bed next to him. “I’m gonna kiss you.” He nodded as he said it and didn’t wait for a response before pulling your lips to his, threading his fingers over your hair at the back of your head.

The air was stolen from your lungs as Jason kissed you. It was slow and deliberate and all consuming, and when he finally pulled away, just enough to breathe, it took you a moment to come back to yourself.

“The dumbest fucking thing I ever did was thinking I could go the rest of my life without doing that again,” he whispered with his eyes still closed before pressing a short kiss to the corner of your mouth.

The sentiment and the action made you smile as you continued to lean into his space, trying desperately to make sure you weren’t accidentally going to mess up all the work you’d done to keep him alive. You moved to pull away, and when you felt him tense up, you kissed his cheek for reassurance. Once you felt him relax a bit, you sat upright again, though this time next to him, rather than at the foot of the bed. Your hand reached for his face, gently brushing over his cheek and carefully avoiding the bottom edge of the bandage on the side of his head. “I’m happy I know now.”

“Yeah?” A hopeful smile crossed his features.

“Yeah.” You smiled in return, eyes roaming over his face as you continued, “The full helmet is a good idea though.” Your fingers moved up to play with the white strands above his forehead. “The hair is a dead giveaway.”

A short chuckle escaped his chest before being cut off by a sharp inhale. The following grunt of discomfort reminded you why you’d come into the room in the first place.

“Right. One second.” You stood up from the bed too fast and got a rush in your head, but recovered quickly and were off to get the pain relievers from your cabinet. There wasn’t much of the prescription level meds left, meaning you’d either need to get ahold of more, or Jason would be switching to over-the-counter medication just days after being shot. When you returned to your room with the bottle in your hand, you found the man watching you through squinted eyes.

“What was that?”

You squinted in return, having assumed the answer fairly obvious. You held up the bottle and shook it a little. “Painkillers.”

“No, right before you left. You got dizzy; I saw you sway. Why?”

You shook your head to dismiss it. “Jason, I’m fine.”

He continued to stare you down as he asked, “Do you not know, or do you not want to tell me?” Jason waited a moment to give you time to respond. When you didn’t, he brought your own argument against you. “We’re trying to be better about talking about things, yeah?”

A sigh escaped you as you rolled your eyes at his insistence. “I’m a little dizzy because I’m down two units of blood.”

He immediately sat up straighter, looking almost comical to you as a person wrapped in bandages went into high alert. “What? Why? What happened?”

“You needed more than I had stocked up.” You pointed to where his IV was taped into his arm, one of the ports currently unoccupied by transfusion tubing.

Guilt flooded Jason’s face and posture. “Oh.” He deflated some, sitting back against the pillows once more. “Wait, how did you test for my blood type?”

You shrugged, “Didn’t need to, I’m O neg.”

“Huh, that’s lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am too.”

“Hm.” You hummed in acceptance of the information. “I guess that’s good information to know, just in case.” You rattled the bottle in your hand slightly. “Do you want the meds?”

He seemed to consider it for a moment. “Are they going to put me out again?”

“They might,” You admitted.

“Then can I take them later, or is it going to fuck up a schedule?” He seemed to wince at his own request, as though hoping it wasn’t an overstep to ask.

You shook your head slightly. “The schedule is to make sure you don’t take too much too quickly. You can wait if you want but aren’t you in pain?” You questioned him with concern all through your face and voice.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to pass out again right now, I’d rather just deal with it.” He dismissed you without hesitation.

“Jason…”

The man’s heart ached at the pain he found in your expression. “I promise, I’m used to stuff like this.” He attempted to reassure you, “It’s not a big-”

“You’re used to being a single breath away from dead?” You interrupted him with the sarcastic question and were immediately caught off guard by his answer.

“I mean I was once before…” He mumbled. Jason’s attention snapped back up to you at the choked noise that you gave in response to his statement.

There were instant tears in your eyes. “What?” The word came out barely above a whisper.

Jason let the remaining breath in his lungs escape him as a sigh. “Do you remember when you asked me if I liked working with Batman, and I told you it was complicated?”

You blinked, still staring at him, almost afraid to move. “Yes.”

“I have some stuff I want to tell you. I’d love for you to come sit back down first, though, if you’re okay to.”

It took a moment for your brain to connect with the rest of your body and you were able to nod and wipe the tear that had fallen away from your cheek before gingerly sitting down next to Jason on your bed.

He told you everything. You listened intently as he spoke about his parents, how each of them died, and what his life was like afterward. He told you about stealing the tires off the Batmobile and eventually becoming the second Robin because of it, and about how he died in the uniform at the hands of the Joker only a couple of years later. The next thing he had memories of was training with the League of Assassins, though he also told you what he knew of his resurrection from being informed by others himself. He got around to how he ended back up in Gotham to avenge his own death, how he discovered that Batman had already taken a new Robin, and how he more or less ran the Gotham Underground for a time. You noticed his hesitation and shame around the details that involved him being a ruthless killer, and his attempts on Batman and the other vigilantes’ lives. Eventually he explained the deal he’d made with the Bat about being able to return to the “good guys” so long as he swore off killing. At this he seemed conflicted.

“And I don’t mind having to prove myself, I get it, I was one of his biggest problems for a while but fuck I’ve been doing my best with all of this for years now, and the old man still treats me like I’m going to explode at any second. I swear to God, he’s gotta have a muzzle stashed somewhere just in case, or probably a fucking kill-switch implanted in my brain for if I “go too far.”” He put up air quotes with his right hand for the last part of his sentence, and you got the feeling it was a phrase that had been used on him more than he’d like. Jason finally turned his head to face you for the first time since he started his biographic recounting and found you slowly bobbing your head up and down as you processed the information. “Well?”

You took another moment to consider your response before you decided on, ““Complicated” feels like an understatement.”

Jason snorted at your response and let his head drop back against the pillows situated behind him. “Yeah.”

Your hand crept to his, and once you found it, you were quick to lace your fingers through his, squeezing his hand as you spoke. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand. “Me too, Sweetheart.” For a moment Jason’s hesitance returned, a cloud of worry forming over his head. “I didn’t scare you off with all of that, did I?”

“No,” You responded immediately, softly. “It was a lot to take in, but I’m not going anywhere.”

A smirk crossed his face. “So, you’re gonna stay in bed with me all day?” He joked to try to relieve some of the pressure in the room. It worked.

“Oh, see now you’re pushing it.” You chuckled as you spoke. “Tragic backstory, I can handle, but cuddles? You’ve gone too far.”

“And here I thought we already had. Must have been nothing but a dream…” He tried to force a dramatic sigh and ended up gasping in pain instead.

“Jason!” You were immediately sat up and looking him over.

“I’m good, it’s fine, I just-” He hissed through his teeth as his right hand ghosted over the stitches in his left side.

“Okay,” was your confirmation with a nod and you were on your feet, rounding the corner of the bed to reach him.

Jason saw you coming and tried to intervene. “I said it’s fine, you don’t-”

“Stop it.” You swatted his hand away as you began to pull at the bandage over the site. Your tongue clicked in your mouth as you looked over the wounds in front of you. They were healing well so far for the most part, though clearly irritated by the amount of movement in the last few minutes. You looked back up to Jason’s face and found him looking at you curiously, as though waiting for your analysis. “You didn’t pull any of them out, but it is inflamed now, which means your pain is going to be worse. Would you please take the drugs?”

He nodded and gave a rough “Mm hmm, yeah.”

“Great.” You grabbed the bottle of painkillers, handed him two and a glass of water off the bedside table, no longer needing to dissolve them in his IV since he was awake. You also helped him sit up slightly so it would be easier for him to take them, and you found yourself absentmindedly rubbing his exposed back as you supported him. You waited as he downed the medicine and an additional sip of water before humming appreciatively. His eyes were softly closed, and you felt more of his weight lean into you, his body relaxing some at your touch. “You okay?”

“Feels good,” he responded, leaning further into you and resting his head against your collarbone.

It made your heart melt to see him being so openly affectionate, especially after everything he’d just told you about feeling so alone, but you wanted to reapply the compound on his stitches just to be safe, and for that, you needed to move. You pressed a kiss into his hair and whispered, “Baby, I can’t hold you like this forever, I still have stuff to do.”

“Oh,” A blush crept over Jason’s face as he realized how long he’d been pressed into you, and then at the realization of just how much he enjoyed you referring to him so endearingly. “Sorry…” he mumbled as he did his best to pull away.

“No, hey,” Your hand cupped his cheek as you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and then another. “It’s for you, and I’ll be right back.” You helped him lay back before leaving the room to retrieve the compound. In only a moment you were back and gently dabbing the plasma over the stitches in hopes it would soothe the irritation and help with scarring. As you pulled his bandages back in place and stood up, you fought and lost against a yawn.

“You’re tired.” Jason’s eyes snapped to your face as he realized for the first time that the circles under your eyes may have come from more than just the blood loss. It had to have been a rough couple of days for you since he got here. “How long has it been since you slept?”

You shrugged in accepted defeat. “Couple days. I just keep getting worried something’s going to happen while I’m out.”

Guilt covered Jason’s face. “You’re worried about me. Fuck, Sweetheart I’m sorry, that’s not fair.”

“Jason, it’s okay, I know you’re stable now, you’re coherent, you’re healing. I’m going to go try to take a nap on the couch after your meds kick in” You gestured over your shoulder toward the living room as you suggested it. “I’ll be-”

“You could stay.” He cut you off. The confusion on your face was clear to him so he clarified, “I’m in your bed anyway; you could sleep in here… with me.” He hoped he hadn’t crossed any boundaries with the suggestion. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. “I remember waking up with you here at one point, right?”

“Jay, you were hypothermic. And shivering. You needed the body heat.” You stated it matter-of-factly and Jason decided to try one more time.

“Sure, but it was nice, and I want-” He wanted to hold you so you could sleep; to take care of you like you were taking care of him. “What if I say I’m cold?”

With a snort of a laugh, you relented. “Okay, just a minute.” You left the room again, much to Jason’s dismay, but quickly returned, no longer wearing old scrubs. Instead, you were dressed in something very similar to what you were wearing the first time Jason saw you. It was a different shirt, though still oversized, and shorts that barely peeked out underneath.

He thought for a moment what you might look like wearing his t-shirt, but quickly shot the idea down when he realized how far his imagination would go if left unchecked. He carefully moved over a little on the bed, giving you room to sit next to him. “Here.”

You smiled, a soft exhale coming through your nose. “I still need to check your other stitches and fix your pillows.”

“Right, sure,” Jason’s neck and cheeks reddened in embarrassment at his eagerness. His eyes followed your movements as you reached for the blanket covering the lower half of his body.

“May I?” You asked cautiously, knowing that there was a new tension to examining the wound on his leg now that he was awake. You waited for his nod of approval before lifting the blanket and exposing his left leg, bare from the top of his thigh down. You’d needed to cut away his compression leggings to tend to the bullet hole there, and you hadn’t been embarrassed about it until now, when your hands were on his skin as he watched.

Jason’s eyes were trained unflinchingly on your hands as you carefully removed the bandage from the upper part of his thigh and spread more of the compound over it before replacing the covering. You skipped over the two in his side, having already checked them, and moved to the wound in his shoulder. Jason could only continue to watch your skilled fingers as they ran gently over his stitches, not feeling anything other than the slightest of pressure as the painkillers began to kick in. When you moved to check over the one on the side of his face, Jason could no longer see your hands and opted to watch your face instead. He admired the way your eyes focused and squinted slightly when you were concentrating, and the way your lips parted as though to whisper to yourself while you worked. He wanted to reach out and touch you, kiss you again.

“You’re staring.”

“Hmm?” Jason’s attention came back to the moment.

A small chuckle bubbled out of your chest and Jason found himself wishing he could hear the noise forever. “Have you always done this, and I just never caught it because your eyes were behind the mask?” You asked him, glancing up to make eye contact before returning your gaze to your task.

He hesitated to give an answer, unsure whether it would be better to tell you the truth or preserve his dignity. He decided to try for both. “I’d embarrass myself if I told you how often I spend time just looking at you.”

A shocked, “oh,” escaped you as heat flooded your cheeks at his admission. You recovered your composure quickly and decided that leveling the playing field was your best path forward. “At least now I know I don’t have to feel weird about doing the same thing.”

Jason’s eyes went wide for just a moment before his head tilted, eyebrow cocked, and a smirk danced across his lips. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, but you better put that attitude away. I still get to choose whether you make it through this.”

You had a finger raised in warning at him, but Jason only smiled as a bold idea entered his mind. “What?” he asked, maintaining eye contact as he wrapped his right hand around your outstretched one and planted a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he continued speaking. “Mostly naked and covered in scars and bandages not your type?”

Your breath caught in your throat for a moment as you looked down at him. His eyes seemed pleading, but you could see the glint of mischief there, and it took a moment before you were able to formulate a response. “Scars, sure. Bandages, no.” You gently pulled your wrist from his grasp to finish reattaching the bandage by his temple as you continued, “I’m not going to help you destroy all the work I put in to keep you alive.”

Jason waited until your work was done and you stepped away to clean up before he spoke again. “So, we’re just ignoring the “mostly naked” part?” He asked.

“We are if you still want me in that bed with you.” You put away supplies in your med kit as you responded to him, and once you were done you turned back around to face him. “Are you going to keep your hands to yourself?”

“Do I have to?” He questioned, smirk returning.

You laughed and your eyebrows shot up at his forwardness. “You’re in a mood, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one that gave me drugs, Sweetheart.” He made a dramatic show of shrugging his unwounded shoulder and lying back on the bed as you walked over to him again.

Adjusting his pillows under his left side to keep his injuries elevated, you joked, “Right, so remind me not to give you any more of those unless I’m also putting you to sleep.”

Jason shook his head slightly as he got comfortable. “No need. I’m tired, I’m just holding out for when you’re in here with me.”

When you walked around to the other side and pulled away the covers, Jason looked concerned. “What?” you asked him.

His eyes lingered for a moment on your bare legs. “You aren’t going to be cold?”

“While cuddling a six-foot-four radiator? Not something I’m worried about.”

You were hardly even in the bed before Jason had you dragged into his right side, and he wasn’t entirely sure your head was on the pillow yet when you fell asleep. He breathed as deep a sigh of relief as he could manage as he stared down at you, and a myriad of emotions ran through his mind. He was still angry with himself for having forced a month of separation, and guilty for the way he’d made you feel. But most of what he was able to focus on was the feeling of your body pressed up against his, your hand on his bare chest. You were real, and here, and you cared for him. This was how it should have been the entire time.

He felt sleep calling to him, so he adjusted slightly to press a kiss into the top of your head and whispered, “I love you,” before drifting off himself.

-

You woke up slowly the next morning, having slept all evening and through the night, and for a moment you felt heavy, until you realized it wasn’t your body weight you were feeling. At some point in the night, the two of you had adjusted, and Jason was laid face down on the left side of your body. His head was resting in the crook of your neck and his arm was draped over your abdomen as he snored lightly. You drew your arm up around him and began slowly carding your fingers through Jason’s hair as you laid beneath him. The snoring stopped and you heard a soft hum before you felt the man snuggle closer, his grip on you tightening.

“Good morning,” you cooed, a slight chuckle behind your words.

“Morning,” came the mumbled response before you heard his breathing begin to slow again.

“Would you move over, please?” You hoped he hadn’t fallen back asleep so quickly.

There was no verbal response as he instead squeezed your side and settled again, giving no indication that he intended to move.

“Jay, I need to get up, I need to pee.”

He groaned in protest but rolled slightly to pull his weight off of you, allowing you to get up. When you came back, he was more awake, resting on his side, and his eyes were still sleepy but open.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” The soft smile he gave you could have melted the Arctic.

“Hey,” you responded, sitting next to him on the bed and reaching to run the backs of your fingers along his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore mostly.” He tilted his head side to side for a moment as if considering something before he continued, “Otherwise, okay. Best morning I’ve had in a while.” His movements were slow as he reached to move your hand from his cheek, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “Thank you for staying with me last night.”

“Of course.” You smiled down at him for a moment before a thought you’d been meaning to bring up crossed into your mind. “Hey, I don’t want to ruin this moment,” you started, squeezing his hand to reassure yourself more than anything, “but I wanted to ask you if we should tell anyone you’re here? Maybe your family? Or-”

“Fuck.” Jason’s face dropped as though he was just realizing for the first time that he should let everyone know he was okay. He hadn’t checked in with anyone in almost three days, and given that Superman had taken care of Edge, they would have expected him home by now. He needed to let them know he was okay, or they’d start tearing the city apart looking for him (or his body). He couldn’t have Cassandra leading everyone to your apartment for clues, he didn’t want Bruce anywhere near you. “Fuck.”

“Jason?” You questioned, cautious, given the panic that was now all over his face.

“It’s fine, I just- I’m thinking.” His mind was nearly frantic as he ran through options. He didn’t have his phone, the communicators in his helmet were broken along with the trackers, and if he was being entirely honest with himself, the only person he trusted to not make a scene with all of this was, “Alfred.”

“What?”

Jason looked up to you, calm resurfacing on his features as he formulated his plan. “I need you to call my house, ask for Alfred Pennyworth, and tell him I’m okay.”

You quirked an eyebrow in confusion as you spoke. “You don’t want to talk to him?”

He shook his head. “There’s vocal recognition for the phone lines, if it hears my voice, it’ll alert Bruce and he’ll know everything. I don’t want him involved in this.”

To say you understood his reasoning would be a lie, but you agreed to make the call anyway.  He rattled off the number quickly but stopped you before you could press the dial button.

“Wait.” You froze when he spoke. “Don’t use your name, just say you’re Dahlia and he’ll know. And don’t give your address over the phone, tell him to ask Cassandra.”

“You’ve been keeping me a secret, but someone called Cassandra knows where I live, and Alfred knows me by the name Dahlia?” You questioned.

He nodded slowly and let out a small sigh before he clarified. “Cass is my sister. She saw me drop you off after our bike ride. Alfred is our butler, but also kind of like a grandfather, and he’s the one that got our bracelets made after I asked. The only other person who knows about you is my older brother Dick, but that doesn’t matter right now.”

“Is that everything?” Your thumb hovered over the screen as you asked, ready to call if he said yes.

“I’d love some clothes,” he said, motioning to the phone to ensure you knew he meant that he wanted you to ask Alfred for them.

You nodded and pushed the button to call.

-

Alfred was cooking breakfast for the family when he heard the phone ring. The children would all be awake soon and hungry, after the last day and a half scouring Metropolis for signs of Jason. They had found his motorcycle there, in a base belonging to Morgan Edge’s organization, and so had been tracking down its members in search of anyone who might know anything about the young master’s whereabouts. He put down his utensils and wiped his hands on the towel over his shoulder to ensure he would not dirty the telephone receiver as he picked it up.

“Wayne residence.”

“Hi, I’m calling to speak to Alfred Pennyworth?” He heard an unfamiliar woman’s voice come through the line. She seemed nervous.

“This is he. And to whom and I speaking?”

“I’m Dahlia.”

Alfred’s attention was no longer divided by the eggs he had been scrambling on the stove. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you. May I ask the reason for your call?”

“I wanted to let you know he’s safe and okay, he’s with me, and if you want to come see him, you’re welcome to, but you need to come alone.”

“I’m sorry?” His eyebrows lifted in surprise, not only at finding out Jason was alright, but also that the woman had the audacity to make demands regarding his presence.

“It’s his request,” Alfred heard the woman rush to justify. “He said he didn’t want everyone involved, and he trusts you to be discreet.”

“Ah.” The man’s protective bravado deflated somewhat as he was given clarification on Jason’s reasoning. “What is the address?”

“Cassandra knows where I live.”

He frowned at the game-playing involved but understood that Jason was likely the one instructing the woman away from giving any definitive information. “Right.”

“Oh, and Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“He’s asking for clothes, comfortable mostly, if you’re able.”

“Understood.”

“Thank you, Alfred.”

The phone clicked as the call was ended, and Alfred took a moment to process the conversation he’d just had. It seemed to him that the woman had been genuine, or else she would not have thanked him, or been at all polite. And if there was any ill intent, then surely, she would have asked for ransom right away, rather than clothing. And she would not have identified herself using the code name Jason had given her if it was not the woman Jason trusted so deeply as to have given her a direct line to him. Alfred resolved to do as he was asked and gather some of Jason’s clothes before going to investigate on his own.

He finished making breakfast for the rest of the family and served it before packing a small bag and excusing himself for the day, citing an appointment he’d “forgotten about.” He pulled Cassandra aside when she was done eating to retrieve the address. She had been more than happy to give it when she discovered that Alfred was “finally going to meet the girlfriend,” and seemed to already know that she was not to tell anyone where he was going. The man smiled to himself at the young adults’ conspiracy to keep secrets for one another. He knew that of the three eldest siblings, Cassandra certainly had the most amicable relationship with Bruce, but as much as she pretended otherwise, she loved her brothers more. Anything sworn to secrecy would stay that way, even from their father.

Tag List: @lettucel0ver, @4rachn3

[aro-of-argentum]

Red Dahlia- Chapter 8

WC: 5,045

Notes: Marcy is a good friend, Dick is losing his patience, Jason's been doing some light stalking bc hurt or not there is still feelings, Superman jumpscare, Jason gets into some ROUGH shape for this one, gore, confessions on death's door, reader handles some rather devastating injuries, Jason it high on pain meds for a minute, technically the miscomm isn’t solved, but they are in one another's presence once again. Things gotta get worse before they can get better. Friendly reminder that I am not a medical professional but I did my best.

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

Previous Chapter, Masterlist, Next Chapter

Chapter 8:

The New Year came and went, and you still hadn’t heard from him. You’d stopped using the bracelet at this point, because he never answered anymore, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take it off. You still couldn’t fathom what had happened that night, unsure as to how he could go from confessing his feelings for you to not speaking at all. There was one night you thought you’d seen him on your walk home from work, but it had been so fast you weren’t sure. You didn’t have “phone calls” on your way home from work anymore, and there were no more gifts appearing in your locker. A dark cloud hung over you for weeks that, to most of the world, you excused as simply being tired, but Marcy knew better.

“What happened?”

You shook your head, not in the place to have this conversation again, especially not as you were clocking out from a particularly rough shift. “Nothing, Marcy. I’m tired, I-”

“No. I’m calling bullshit. One day you’re the happiest little fish in the sea, you get a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers from secret boyfriend and avoiding even speaking to other men because you’re so happy. And then suddenly you’re depressed and you won’t talk to me about him anymore, so it has to be him. What. Happened.” The last two words of her rant she emphasized so it was clear you weren’t getting out of the conversation.

You sighed heavily and decided the best way to do this was going to be to simply rip the band-aid off. “We got into a fight, and I haven’t seen him in over a month.”

The first expression to cross Marcy’s face was shock, but it was quickly replaced by rage. “Excuse me?!” She shouted. At your shushing, her volume decreased when she repeated the question, “Excuse me? What do you mean it’s been over a month? Have you been giving the cold shoulder, or has he? What kind of argument even constitutes a month of radio silence? Does that just mean you’re broken up now? What the fuck?” The questions flowed from her faster than you were able to even process what she was saying.

“Look, I can explain everything, but I’m not going to do it here.” You wanted nothing more than to be home and in comfortable clothes. Maybe if you could get things off your chest and have a cry that you weren’t alone for, you might actually have a chance at feeling better. “Do you want to come over?”

“Sure, babes. I’ll drive.”

It took no time before the two of you were seated on your couch, facing each other, and Marcy pressed a cup of coffee into your hands. It was the black one with the Red Hood symbol on it that you’d found on your windowsill months ago, and you took it gratefully, though your heart ached at the sight of it.

“Tell me everything.” Marcy gave an encouraging nod as she spoke.

You sighed and took a moment to consider the best way to explain to your best friend the gist of what happened, without telling her that you’d never actually seen the man’s face before. “We got into a fight about whether we should be more public about us. He’s the one that brought it up, and I told him he didn’t have to do that because I know how much his life would change, but now I’m pretty sure he thinks that I want to keep hiding it like I’m ashamed of him or something. And I’m not! I just didn’t want him to think he had to just because of a stupid fucking comment I made, and-”

“What did you say to him?” Marcy interrupted with a cocked head; features all twisted with concern.

“I said-” You paused as you realized you couldn’t tell her the whole truth for this either. “I mentioned wanting to go out together, and I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I didn’t think he was going to change everything over some off-handed comment I made when I wasn’t thinking. I know this probably sounds incredibly stupid.”

Marcy listened intently as you explained, nodding along as you spoke. After you’d finished, she sat with her thoughts for a moment. “Did you ever think maybe he offered because he wanted to go public?”

Red Hood revealing his secret identity to you was never even on the table in your mind, so the idea that he might have pulled the mask off because he wanted you to know who he was seemed impossible. But he said he cared for you, so maybe it was never about you or the comment you made. Maybe he was being vulnerable with someone he trusted, and you’d squashed it by making him think you didn’t want to know.

Marcy could see you buffering. “You good?”

“I’m a fucking idiot, aren’t I?” By the end of your sentence, your head was hung in defeat and there were tears welling in your eyes.

“Mm, yes, but also,” She shook her head slightly, eyes squinted in a grimace. “Him not talking to you for a month over this? That’s insane if he has any expectation that you’re still together. You need to talk to him.”

“He’s not answering any of my calls, Marce.”

“Ugh, men.” She rolled her eyes as she continued, “Their egos get so fragile when their feelings are hurt.” She finally looked back at you and saw the tears running over your cheeks. “Oh, honey, no.” She set down her coffee and reached for you, scooching closer on the couch to hug you.

“I miss him.” You finally allowed yourself to admit it between shaky breaths.

Marcy squeezed you tighter and rubbed your back as she responded, “I know.”

-

“Would you just do it, please?” Jason’s request was a hushed shout as he argued with his brother.

“You’re getting sent away on a mission and this is what you’re worried about?” Dick questioned, tone matching that of the younger man. “I thought you two were done, why the hell are you asking me to keep an eye on her?”

Jason’s stare was answer enough. Dick knew he was too proud to say so out loud, but he was clearly still in love with you.

Jason huffed. “Just tell Tim she’s a target you’re tracking or something, I don’t care. As long as she’s alive, and okay, that’s all I need.”

“And you think making Tim break into the hospital’s timeclock system to see if she’s going to work every day is a reasonable request.” Dick seemed calm until he asked, “Are you insane?” He had to cross his arms to stop them from flailing as he spoke.

“Well, I’m not telling you where she lives, so checking on her there isn’t really an option, is it?” Jason cocked his head as though to emphasize having made a good point.

Dick’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”

Sensing he was no longer on the offensive in this conversation, Jason recoiled slightly. “Yes?”

“I thought you said you hadn’t been responding on your little bracelet anymore.” His tone was laced with accusation. “I thought you said she wasn’t even using it anymore.”

“Right…”

“Oh ho! So, you’re stalking her.”

“I am not-”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re stalking her.” Dick interrupted Jason’s thought and continued before his little brother could jump in again. His patience was gone. “You blew up whatever your relationship was with her, and now for the last month you’ve been following her around without her knowledge or consent. That’s stalking.”

“I’m not-” He stopped himself when he saw the ‘I dare you’ look on Dick’s face. Jason chose a new sentence. “I did not fuck up my relationship, she rejected me. She didn’t want to know who I-”

“She was being considerate of you, you giant asshole!”

“What?”

“You told me that she said she didn’t want to fuck up your life. She was trying to make sure you weren’t just doing it for her!” Dick’s consciousness of his volume disappeared as his temper rose. “I have watched you be broody, and sullen, and a fucking prick about this for weeks because I thought you’d get your shit together eventually but no, why would Jason Todd have a full conversation with someone when he could just walk away and then be pissed at the world for the next three to five business years?”

Jason stood in silence, grinding his teeth together as his brother ranted, and once Dick was done, Jason turned and walked away from him.

Dick nodded knowingly, still fuming. “There it is.” He watched his younger brother exit the room before he shook his head and forced deep breaths to calm himself. It was around 20 minutes later that a text notification from Jason popped up on his phone.

“I will make time to talk to her when I get back.”

Dick responded, “I’ll look out for her while you’re gone.”

-

The drive to Metropolis was only a couple hours, and Jason found the time on the road to be helpful in sorting his thoughts. He knew Dick was right. Smug bastard. He would find time to talk to you, and actually listen this time, when he got back from this mission, but right now he needed to focus.

Once Jason was settled in his hotel room, well into the early hours of the morning, he texted Clark that he was in town and ready to meet. Superman appeared through the open balcony door a minute later.

Jason rolled his eyes at the theatrics of having a cape that flutters in the breeze, even when indoors. “How did you know what room I was in?”

“I did a scan of the building; you weren’t hard to find.” Clark looked around the room for a moment before asking, “Do you have all the gear you’ll need?”

Jason knew the man had x-ray vision, and therefore probably already knew the answer. “I thought I was just consulting on this for you.”

The other man nodded thoughtfully. “Bruce said if anyone could help it was you. Whatever information you have would be incredibly useful.”

“Sure,” He responded with a nod. “What do you need to know?”

Jason spent over two hours explaining everything he knew about the Gotham Underground, and who was currently running it. Occasionally, he answered specific questions, and asked some of his own. He discovered that the person Superman was going after was Morgan Edge, and Jason knew that his history with the man was why Bruce had sent him on this mission instead of one of the others. Edge, whom Jason had worked with on occasion during his crime-lord days, was the leader of Intergang; based in Metropolis, and attempting to make connections in Gotham to expand. If those bridges were stabilized, things could get so much worse for both cities. The pair put together a surveillance plan for Edge’s headquarters in Metropolis, and Jason put lines out to some of his old contacts in the Underground to see if any of them had useful information. By the time they wrapped up, the sun was rising.

The Kryptonian stretched with his arms over his head as he yawned, visibly Clark in the Superman costume when he asked, “Is this your normal schedule? Gosh, I’m beat.”

Jason nodded slightly. “This is the standard for almost the whole team in Gotham. I’m going to get some sleep, you should too. I’ll let you know if I hear back from any of my guys.”

“You got it boss,” Was the only thing Jason heard before the ‘woosh’ of Superman flying away.

Four days, lots of communication with Clark Kent, and a hefty room service bill on Bruce’s credit card later, Jason was getting his stuff packed up to head back to Gotham. He was supposed to meet up with one of his contacts who knew when and where Edge would be in Gotham and communicate that back to Clark. Then Superman would go in and take care of it, and Jason would be free to return to his regularly scheduled programming. He was nervous about the talk he knew he’d have to have with you. He was afraid to admit that he was wrong, but he was more afraid you wouldn’t accept his apology, or worse, wouldn’t see him at all after such a long time.

Jason used his drive hack to Gotham to plan what he’d say. He was distracted when he rendezvoused with his contact. He didn’t notice he’d been double-crossed and surrounded until it was too late to get out.

-

You sat on your couch, reading in an attempt to wind down before going to bed. Work had been uneventful, which was always a good thing, even if it meant you were bored, and your current at-home project was going well. You’d used your end-of-year bonus to purchase supplies to make more of the healing compound, but you’d also branched into a new experiment. The one thing Gotham General (and many hospitals) always seemed to need more of was blood. Some small adjustments to your original stem cell formula had yielded promising results for blood duplication in small amounts, and now you had a refrigerator shelf full of your own blood to start running tests. It could wait, though. Something felt off about tonight.

You took a sip of your water and nearly choked as your bracelet lit up for the first time in nearly five weeks. You put your glass down and for a moment you only stared. The thought crossed your mind to perhaps ignore it after so long of him ignoring you, but the feeling in your stomach twisted again. Something felt wrong. You tapped the disc, and it immediately started a rapid flashing. Was he already there? You twisted to view the map and found his dot on the other side of your building. “Why would he be over in-” On. Not in, you thought. You scoffed but slid your shoes on and tossed a jacket over your shoulders anyway and left your apartment to climb the roof access stairs. As you opened the door, the chill bit into the parts of your skin that were still exposed to the air.

“Did we have to do this in the snow, Red? You could’ve just come inside,” You grumbled the last bit more to yourself than out loud. As you scanned the roof from the doorway, you couldn’t see him. “Red?” The response you got was a pained groan, and when you turned to peek around the corner you saw him. Red Hood was on his knees and hunched over himself and bleeding. A lot. The noise you made was something akin to a strangled cry and your feet were moving before you realized. You fell to your knees in front of him. “Red? Hey, listen to me, can you hear me?” When you put your hands on the sides of his helmet and tilted his head up to you, you found the mask shattered on one side.

His exposed eye, the softest green, blinked slowly at you. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart,” His voice was weak and raspy as he exerted himself to speak, “I had to see you before-” A wet-sounding coughing fit interrupted him, and you saw more blood pulse from the multiple wounds in his torso.

“Fuck, no, you can’t do this-” Tears you hadn’t noticed before began to roll down your face.

He reached a gloved hand up to your face, making careful eye contact with you the entire time. When the material made contact with your skin it was warm and wet, but you pressed your cheek into his hold anyway. The eye you could see watered as he spoke, “I love you. I’m so sorry.”

At that your wits came back to you, and your body and mind went into crisis control. “No, I don’t need that. I need you to stand up, come on.” You nearly begged as you stood up and attempted to pull him with you. He complied as best he was able, and you shouldered most of his weight as the pair of you shuffled toward the door to get back inside. “Red, come on, I can’t lose you, please.” When you reached the stairs, you put him between you and the wall and used every bit of your strength to catch him each time he slipped a step.

“Y/n, stop.”

“No.” You snapped, “We’re almost there, it’s just a little farther.” The walk to your front door was easier than the stairs, but you were still almost dragging him by the time you got to the end of the hallway. Getting your door open was a struggle, but you managed to keep the man upright just long enough to get him inside. As soon as the door was closed, he slumped off your back. “Okay, come on.” You dragged him to the center of the floor behind the couch and ran to get your kit. When you returned, you found his breathing shallow, and labored, and he was shivering. “Shit.”

“Doesn’t look too good, does it?” He wheezed.

“Shut up, Red.” You snatched gauze from the kit, suddenly incredibly thankful you’d remembered to restock on supplies weeks ago, and began packing it into the hole in his left thigh. He seethed in pain, but you ignored it and moved to look at his chest and stomach. His armor was full of dents and was punctured in three places. “I can’t cut this,” you realized aloud, and Red moved to put his arms above his head. You pulled the shirt off of him, struggling a bit around the helmet, and while you had his back off the ground slightly, you checked for exit wounds. You found two. You were quick to pack the two wounds in his left side, finding that neither had gone through any of his organs. The third was in his left shoulder, and you knew the bullet was still inside. You took a shaky breath. “There’s one still inside your shoulder.”

“What?” There was clear panic in his voice.

“Don’t scream.”

When you dug into his shoulder, he let out a brief yell through gnashed teeth before his eye rolled back and he passed out. You kept searching, and finally found the bullet. You pulled it out as carefully as you could and set it aside to start packing the cavity. Once he wasn’t actively bleeding anymore, you rushed to pull blood from the fridge and dropped several of the small bags onto the warming plate on the counter. While you waited for it to heat up, you returned to the man on your floor. You knew you had to check for a head injury, because something had hit him hard enough to shatter the helmet, so you reached for the release buttons and pulled it off of him. He had a small gash in the side of his head that started at his temple and went into his hair line but looked otherwise okay. You allowed yourself a single moment of relief as you realized he was still breathing and wasn’t going to get any worse. You could save him. Your thumb ran gently over his cheekbone where you still cradled his cheek, mirroring where you knew you still had a bloody handprint on your own face. “Hello, Jason.”

Setting up for the transfusion was fast because you’d done it so many times, and despite the blood loss and the cold, it was easy for you to find a vein. You set the warmed bag on the counter so gravity would push the blood through the flushed tubing as you began to work in other areas. You had to cut open Jason’s pant leg to have better access to the wound but were able to stitch everything back together fairly easily, applying the compound as you went. The two in the side of his stomach were harder because he kept twitching every time you touched him, and the wound in his shoulder was easily closed once you determined the bullet hadn’t clipped any bones.

-

Jason attempted a deep breath as he began to wake up but found that he couldn’t. He had a vague sensation of someone touching his face and scrunched his nose and eyebrows together.

“Red, stop moving.” The voice sounded far away but felt familiar.

He attempted to pull his head away but didn’t make it very far before he ran into something hard behind him. “Ow.”

“That’s why I told you to stop moving.” He could hear it a little clearer now, though that also meant the ringing in his ears was clearer too.

The turn of his head brought a sigh that he swore he recognized.

“Jason, baby, please stop moving, I’m almost done.”

“Mm,” He hummed in acknowledgement as a small smile crossed his face. It was you. “I like when you say my name like that.” He opened his eyes slowly and saw an only slightly blurry version of you there with your head cocked, staring at him. “You’re so pretty.”

You shook your head. The painkillers were definitely working. “Okay. Can you stand?”

He hummed as he took a moment to think. “I need help,” he whined with a pout on his lips, and you had to stifle the chuckle at the sight of a man so large acting like a child.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” You moved to his left side knowing it would be harder for him to put weight there. When he began to rise, you shouldered as much of his weight as you could, careful not to grip anywhere with fresh stitching, and the two of you found a balance. “You ready?”

“Where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” you answered, pointing to the open door just across the room.

You kept a careful eye on him as you began to move, trying to determine if his expression was one of focus or discomfort, though you assumed it was probably both. You also kept track of each step, watching how his weight and balance shifted as he walked. The shuffle to your bedroom was slow, but eventually the pair of you made it, and when you laid Jason down, you found him sweating and panting from the exertion. Once he was situated in an okay position, rolled partially on his right side with pillows for support, and the last of the blood bags on the headboard, you tried to pull away and found yourself stuck.

Jason hadn’t let go of you, and when he brought his right hand up to touch your face, he found himself confused. “…Feels so real.”

The tired skepticism in his voice as he rubbed your cheek made you snort a laugh. “I am real.”

Jasons made his best attempt at shaking his head as he released you and closed his eyes to think. “No, I hit my head real hard, and now I can’t feel the left side of my body, so I’m definitely dying.” He scrunched his face again. “I fucked up too bad for you to really be here.”

Your heart twinged with pain at his words, and you put down the now empty syringe to lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead. “Go to sleep Jay, we’ll talk about it later.”

He barely bobbed his head in a nod before you saw his face relax again; the anesthetics you’d given him taking effect. You took a moment to finish applying a bandage to his face before looking back over his entire body. He was covered in bruises that were already deep shades of black and blue, but his pulse was steady and getting stronger, his breaths were sounding better, though still shallow, and the blood in his mouth had been from his nose, not an internal issue. He was already clotting up under the bandages, the compound well on its way to working, and he was taking well to the transfusions. He needed time, but he was going to be okay. You found that you had to keep repeating it to yourself. You needed him to be okay.

-

The next time Jason woke up it was slower, and everything hurt. He groaned, and tried to adjust, finding that when he attempted to move his arms, there was something wrapped up in them; someone. He froze, doing everything he could to recall what had happened. He’d been ambushed by Edge’s men. He was dying, and he knew that, but he needed to see you. Selfish asshole. He pushed the thought away to continue running through the events of the night. He’d found you, and you’d brought him inside. You’d been patching him up- Was he still there with you?

“Jay?”

He heard your voice from above his head, and though you spoke so softly, the noise still set off a pounding in his brain.

“Do you need more pain meds?”

Everything hurt. He let out another groan of pain and nodded. When he felt you begin to move out of his grasp though, he stopped you.

“I need to get out of bed to get you drugs.”

“Mm nm” He hummed in disapproval and pulled you back into him by your waist, burying his face in your chest. A happy sigh escaped his chest when he felt your fingers begin carding through his hair, and he snuggled ever closer.

You let out a soft chuckle. Such a big baby. “Jason, let me get you meds, you’ll feel better.” He let out a frustrated grunt, but eventually released you, allowing you to get out of bed. You returned only a moment later with another syringe in your hand. “You’re going to go back to sleep, okay?” You let him know as you emptied the fluid into the other port on his transfusion line. He nodded, and though it took a couple of minutes, you eventually saw him relax again.

You decided now was as good a time as any to answer the dozens of texts and calls you’d been getting from Marcy, so you grabbed your phone off the nightstand and went to the living room, closing the bedroom door on your way. You knew she was at work, but it only took one ring before she answered.

 “Y/n?” Her voice was panicked.

 “Hey Marcy.”

“Don’t you “hey Marcy” me. What the hell is going on? Are you okay?” Her tone shifted from worry to anger. “Why the hell haven’t you been answering my calls? We all got an email this morning saying the hospital needed coverage for all of your shifts for the next two weeks and claimed you had a family emergency.” You heard a door open somewhere nearby her and Marcy continued her rant in a hushed voice. “But I know you don’t have any family so What. The. Fuck?”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I promise I will explain everything to you later when shit settles down. It’s a very long story, and I promise I will take you out to lunch and walk you through the whole thing, but right now I need some time off and for you to just trust me.”

“So now there’s secrets and- oh,” She cut herself off and you could almost hear it when she put the puzzle together about the only other time you’d kept secrets from her lately. “Something happened with the boyfriend.”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “Yeah… and um,” You took a deep breath as tears you weren’t expecting rushed into your eyes. “He’s fine now, but he really wasn’t for a while. He uh- he’s going to be fine; I promise I’ll explain later.”

“Okay,” She sighed the word through her end of the phone. “I love you. Just let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

You nodded though you knew she couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I love you too. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, babes.”

You hung up the phone and dropped yourself onto the couch and for the first time since Red had shown up last night, you let yourself cry. The release helped to clear your mind enough to actually fill out the leave of absence paperwork you’d been sent after your frantic early morning call to your boss begging for time off. You asked for 2 weeks initially, pending condition changes, and you knew it would be approved because your boss had suggested at least that amount.

The next thing to be done was cleaning. A lot of it. There was blood dried into your floors and bloody articles of clothing and bandages everywhere. It took well over an hour to bleach and scour everything down so it no longer looked like a crime scene, and you stashed the destroyed pieces of the Red Hood uniform in a duffle bag and dropped it on the floor in the hallway closet. You’d ask Jason what he wanted to do with it later.

You also needed a shower. Desperately. You’d wiped off your face earlier, but there was blood in your hair and all over your skin and clothes. You scrubbed everything as much as you could with a stain remover before throwing it all in the wash, then went to clean yourself up too. Jason stayed asleep through all of it. He’d need more blood soon, and you were out of your reserves. The decision to draw more from yourself was an easy one. You’d do it as soon as you were clean. You were so happy he was alive, but you knew you needed to talk to him. About what happened, about who he was, about how to proceed. You did your best not to think about it, trying to avoid making any assumptions until you could actually have the conversation with him about everything. The last thing you wanted was to fuck this all up again because you assumed you knew what he was thinking. You just got him back; you couldn’t lose him again.

Taglist: @4rachn3, @lettucel0ver

[aro-of-argentum]

Red Dahlia- Chapter 7

WC: 10,895

Notes: Oops I made it huge. There's a bunch going on in this chapter. Reader gets flowers at work, there's a bank robbery, Dick gives advice, Jason has a hard time talking about feelings (with reader or anybody for that matter), a classic "I think I know you" scene, and then a big ol' misunderstanding right there at the end. Don't worry, it'll get fixed next chapter. Heads up, the reader uses a gun in this one, no one dies though. Have fun!

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

Previous Chapter, Masterlist, Next Chapter

Chapter 7:

Getting up for work the next morning was a slog. Your boss had called in the middle of the night saying they needed coverage for the day, and you took the shift knowing the overtime would be incredible. You were regretting it now. Still though, you found the energy deep inside you to get up and get in the shower, and actually even had time to pick up breakfast and coffee on your way in to work. No sooner than you had walked in the door, Marcy found you.

“Ugh, there you are!” She stormed over to your locker and gratefully took a bite of your sandwich when you offered it. Through the food in her mouth, she continued to speak. “I’m so happy you’re here for the last couple hours of my shift.” She swallowed and her speech became clear once again as she handed your breakfast back. “The phleb we had overnight was all over the place. I had turnaround times of hours on easy orders, and when I called the lab to check in on why, they told me they’d never even gotten the blood. Twice. Ugh, I hate incompetent shit heads.”

You heard a locker slam one row over and watched Gavin, the phlebotomist who’d just clocked out, storm out of the room. Your eyes went wide as you looked from him to Marcy pointedly.

She shook her head. “I don’t even care, he needed to hear it.”

“Sometimes I’m so glad you’re convinced I can do no wrong. You’re vicious.”

Marcy shrugged. “Do something wrong and then we’ll talk.”

The two of you laughed for a moment before you turned back to finish putting your things away, handing Marcy the last two bites of your food for her to finish before you both got to work. An hour into your shift you got a page directing you to the front desk. As you approached, you saw a delivery man holding a bundle of a dozen blood red dahlias, beautifully wrapped in black and grey burlap.

“Hi, I’m looking for Y/n?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

“Yeah, uh…” You could hardly take your eyes off the gorgeous flowers. “That’s me.”

He nodded, handing you the bundle before walking away, entirely unfazed by the delivery.

The receptionist that was currently at the desk looked up at you, approval all through his expression and tone when he asked, “Girl, what did you do to get a man to send you flowers like that, and where can I get one?”

You chuckled as a heat spread over your cheeks. “I wouldn’t know where to look, I swear this one fell from the sky.” You smiled as you looked at the bulbs, your other hand coming up to run your fingertips over some of the petals. It hadn’t taken long after Red Hood had picked you up from work on his motorcycle a few weeks ago for seemingly everyone you knew in the hospital to be in on Marcy’s “Who is the secret boyfriend” game. It was easier to just play along than to try to explain.

He shook his head. “Well, you either need to share or you need to get your lovey-dovey out of my face, it’s getting all over me.” There was no malice behind his words, and he even winked at you as you turned to walk away.

Your walk to the lounge was quick, as you didn’t want Marcy to catch you with the flowers, though you were sure she’d find out soon enough anyway. Once you were inside and away from prying eyes, you took a moment to look for a card, and found one tucked between some of the stems.

It was a small white piece of cardstock folded in half, and inside, handwritten in black ink. ‘Thanks for last night.’

A new wave of emotion washed over you, a smile still covering your features as you remembered for a moment what it was like to have his arms around you. He’d been so warm, and smelled of gun-smoke and leather, with the remnants of a cologne you couldn’t quite place. You allowed your mind to wander for only a moment more before you tucked the flowers into your locker as gently as possible and headed back out to the floor.

The rest of the shift went by with ease and even though you were busy, the world seemed to know you were floating in air and didn’t want to bring you down. By the time you were getting ready to leave Marcy was long gone for the day, having sent a “Leaving now :P” text because you were in the middle of a draw when she left. You figured she was likely asleep, but that she’d text you later to hang out, as she always seemed to do when you both had an evening off. In the meantime, you decided a trip to the bank to finally get your debit card replaced was warranted. It was early enough that you could get there well before closing time, and if you got this figured out, you could stop using your phone to pay for groceries. Your face was covered in a smile once again as you pulled the flowers from your locker, quickly followed by your bag, and you set out to head home. The sun would still be up for a little while longer, so you didn’t activate your bracelet. You didn’t want to bother him if he was resting up after being injured, and besides, things weren’t nearly so bad in Gotham when it was still daylight out.

The walk was quick, and you dropped the flowers and your work bag off on the counter before quickly getting changed.  You grabbed the much smaller bag you used for other outings and transferred over all of the essentials: wallet, keys, pistol. You hadn’t needed it since Red started hanging around, but you still brought it everywhere. It was small, meant only to cause damage and be a distraction, and in any real-world situation, it had only ever been used to scare off would-be attackers; you’d never had to actually use it. Still, you kept up with your monthly sessions at the practice range so that if you ever needed it, your aim would be true.

The bank you were headed to was a longer distance than the walk from the hospital to your apartment, but it was certainly still doable. You stayed vigilant as ever as you made your way there, and had plenty of time to spare before closing, which you figured was for the better given how busy they were.

-

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” Jason sent the text, nerves bubbling in his chest, though he knew if there was anyone he could trust with this, it was his brother.

Dick’s reply came back almost immediately. “Sure. I’ll be there in a few to meet with everyone before patrols. Is that fine?”

“Yeah.”

Jason was quick to get downstairs, inhaling a cold slice of pizza in the kitchen before descending into the cave to get dressed.

“Hey,” Dick announced himself so he wouldn’t startle the other man in the room. “What did you want to talk about?”

Jason was working his new shirt with the extra body armor on and struggling a bit because of his arm. It had healed quite a bit so far, but he was hoping it would be a quiet night.

“You know if you told Bruce you got hurt yesterday then you wouldn’t need to worry about this right now.” Dick was already over and helping Jason with the sleeve before his younger brother could get too frustrated with it. He knew there was no way to get Jason to open up if he was pissed, regardless of what he was pissed at.

“Yeah, whatever.” Jason brushed the comment off knowing Dick was just trying to look out for him. “I need advice on something.”

“Like something from yesterday?” He asked, finishing putting Jason’s glove on.

“Thanks, and yeah. I-” Jason’s sentence was cut off when he saw his bracelet light up. “It’s not even dark out…” He mumbled to himself as he tapped the button in return and turned the disc to view the map projection.

Dick shook his head in disbelief. “Hello? Earth to Jason.”

“No. Hang on.” He cut his brother off with a wave of his hand before turning his wrist outward to be more visible to Dick. “Do you know where this is?”

Dick Grayson looked over the small map for a moment before he answered. “I mean, I think there’s a bank over there?”

Not a moment after the sentence came out of Dick’s mouth, an alert went off on the computer. The pair heard Bruce call.

“Everyone in here. Now.”

The entire team, including those that weren’t going on patrol that night filtered into the room. Aside from the two eldest brothers, Cassandra was the only one dressed in her costume, as it was supposed to be the three of them working.

Bruce broke the silence as the younger vigilantes all looked back and forth between one another. “We just got an alert from GCPD. There’s a bank robbery, possible hostage situation, and they won’t get there in time.” He clicked a button and all of the information they had, including the address, showed up on screen.

That’s where you were. “We’ll go,” Jason stated, volunteering himself and Dick.

“Me too,” Cassandra spoke up as well. “We’re all already dressed, we can just patrol afterwards, or call if we need to switch out.”

“Fine, go.”

Bruce released the trio, and they immediately ran to the garage. Jason got on his own motorcycle, while Cassandra got on the back of Dick’s before they rode off.

“How did you know about the bank?” Jason heard his brother ask through the intercom in his helmet.

“What?”

“Your bracelet had a location indicator for the bank over a minute before we got the alert from GCPD. How?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jason shot back.

“But-”

“Drop it.”

Cassandra watched Jason carefully from the back of Dick’s bike as the two drivers wove through traffic to get there as quickly as possible. She noticed the tension in his shoulders, normally non-existent on the way to assignments. Normally, he was more relaxed because he was getting a chance to release some of his pent-up anger in a productive way, but now he seemed more wound up than she’d seen him in a long time. When they got there, she found out why.

The boys stashed the motorcycles in an alley while Cassandra found a way in. There was a perfect window that led out to the lower roof, through which they could see the entire main lobby. The girl from the back of Jason’s motorcycle was in there.

“Hey, isn’t that your girlfriend?” She asked as soon as the boys were next to her by the window.

“Your what?” Dick questioned, head whipping toward Jason.

“We’re not talking about this right now.” The man in the red helmet only stared straight forward through the window, and he saw you pull a pistol from your bag as you crouched behind a sideways table.

“How long have you been hiding this from me?” He was whisper-yelling now.

“Couple months,” Cassandra chimed in, clearly trying to stir the pot as she adjusted her thermal sensors.

“Months?”

“Stop it.” Jason said, rolling his eyes.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” Dick’s hand flew to his chest as though he was a victim and was not paying attention to what was happening inside like the other two were. “Was I just supposed to find out when you got married one day?”

“Relax, it is not that serious,” Jason started. He and Cassandra watched as you jumped out from behind the table and fired four shots, each landing in the hand or shoulder of a different gunman, effectively disabling them, before grabbing a child that was in harm’s way and diving back behind the table. “I think I love her.” It slipped from his mouth without a thought behind it.

Dick went quiet and Cassandra’s eyes went wide in shock as everyone, including Jason, processed what he’d just said. Cassandra’s voice is what finally brought everyone back.

“Okay guys, lock in. There's two at each set of doors and four in the lobby, and one with the branch manager in the back in front of the vault. That’s eleven total, but four are mostly useless now, so I’m saying seven. We good?”

Dick let go of his big brother attitude to fully become Nightwing and give the order to jump into action. He didn’t get a chance before he heard Jason.

“Shit, no-” Red Hood kicked in the window as he flew through it, dropping just inches in front of you where you had stood up to find the mother of the little girl from a moment ago. You hadn’t seen one of the men by the front door train his aim on you, but that’s what he was there for. Two shots landed in the armor on his shoulder blade, level with your head, just as he landed in front of you. “Hey.” He barely even flinched.

“Hi,” you said it with a smirk at his nonchalance after just being shot twice. “Glad to see you’re bulletproof today.”

“I told you I’d figure it out, didn’t I?” He followed your gaze as you watched the other two vigilantes drop in through the same opening, Nightwing rushing in to fight, and Orphan splitting off to where the manager had been dragged to the vault. Then he watched your eyes flick over his shoulder.

“Six o’clock.” Your arm shot out, brushing against his own at his side as you fired, and hit the gunman in the wrist, likely shattering the bones there. He would not be shooting again anytime soon.

Christ, you were perfect, he thought as he looked at you.

“Hey, Hood!” He heard Dick call to him, and though he knew the others would certainly have things handled, he also knew he needed to participate, stitches or not.

He remained standing in front of you for a moment before he cocked his head to the side. “I have some stuff I have to take care of.”

You snorted a laugh and smiled at him. “So go take care of it,” you said while motioning to where Nightwing was fighting two of the robbers. As soon as he turned away, you tucked your pistol into the back of your pants, knowing you wouldn’t need it anymore, and squatted down to the little girl still cowering behind the table. “Hey. Red Hood, and Nightwing, and Orphan are going to take care of us, okay? We’re gonna be okay.”

“…Okay…” She said back to you with tears in her eyes, clearly terrified.

“We’re going to stay here for right now, we’ll find your mom after it’s safe. The heroes will keep all of us safe until then.”

And they did. The only person who’d been hurt aside from the robbers was the bank’s manager, and he’d only been shot in the foot as “incentive” to open the vault. All eleven of the thugs were arrested, and the police had plenty of eyewitnesses and camera recorded evidence. They’d all be locked up after receiving medical care for their injuries.

It took the officers a while to get statements from everyone given how busy the bank had been, but you volunteered to go last, knowing you’d have company on your walk home if you waited until Red was able to leave too.

Jason watched from the roof next door as you answered questions, and the police took your statement. You seemed okay, and he was glad for it.

“Everything’s taken care of, we’re good to go.” Dick called from behind.

Jason’s response was aimed at his brother, but his gaze still hovered on you as he sat on the edge of the building. “I’m gonna stay a minute.”

Dick turned to Cassandra telling her to start patrols, and he’d be moving in a few. She nodded and cast a sideways glance at Jason before turning back to Dick, worry all over her face. She only left when he nodded again, to let her know he would take care of it. Once Cassandra was gone, the eldest Wayne sibling joined Jason on the lip of the building, feet dangling over the edge as they watched you speak with the officers.

“It was super weird you know.” He began.

Jason hardly acknowledged his brother, “What was?”

“I just watched you flirt. In the field. While we were on a job.” Each of his sentences was small, each making a point of their own. Jason was not one to flirt. He was not one to have that personality under the helmet. And he certainly wasn’t one to be distracted while working. And he knew these things as well as Dick did. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re off your game.”

“I absolutely am not, I kicked ass in there!”

“Yeah, after you got shot twice.”

“Intentionally. To save someone’s life.”

Dick shook his head. “Little Wing, you did it to show off. You could have just as easily gotten her out of the way.”

“Is there a point to this?” He snapped back.

“Look, I’m not trying to make you feel shitty, I’m trying to point out that clearly you care. You care about her, and you care about how she sees you. That’s new,” Dick reasoned. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Jason nodded, taking in the words. “I’m okay. I feel better than I have in a long time actually.”

“Yeah?”

A small chuckle escaped through the modulator in his helmet. “Yeah, she’s pretty incredible.”

“You wanna tell me about her?” Dick elbowed Jason lightly, trying to goad him into it. The younger man was never the type to gush about something he enjoyed if he thought the other person might not really be listening.

Jason shook his head good-naturedly, knowing the game his older brother was playing. But he did want to talk about you, so he caved. “She reads the same kinds of books I do. She’s actually borrowing my copy of ‘Persuasion’ right now.”

“The Jane Austen novel?”

“Yes.”

“Cool,” Dick responded with a nod, relenting the conversation back to Jason.

“We talk every night on her way home from work, or rather she talks, I listen. She pretends she’s on the phone. Anyway.” He waved his hand as a dismissal of his last comment. “She calls me with the bracelet, which looks exactly the same as mine, and they have proximity indicators so once they’re on, they display a map like how you saw earlier. It’s how I let her know I’m there, even when it’s better that I’m not standing next to her, like on her walk home. She feels safer knowing I’m looking out for her.” He blushed, almost embarrassed, though he knew Dick couldn’t see it.

“She’s lucky to have you.” Dick was eager to let him keep talking about this, so he asked another question to prompt him. “What does she do for work?”

“She’s a phlebotomist at Gotham General, always wants to help people. She even made this compound with stem cells? She explained it to me, but I don’t fucking know the science. It’s a healing thing that I think she said works by copying the cells you already have to fix you faster, she’s used it on me a couple times, and-”

“So that’s who’s been patching you up. We were all curious how the hell you were recovering so fast. Did she use it on your arm?”

Jason nodded. “The stitches will come out tomorrow, which is why I didn’t want to tell Bruce. I would’ve been-”

“You would have been benched for longer.” Dick completed his sentence, nodding along. “Yeah.”

“She’s smart, and she’s kind, and she’s gorgeous…” His sentence trailed off as he contemplated. “I’m really happy when I’m with her.”

Dick’s smile was genuine, his heart warming for his brother. “Do you love her?”

Jason sighed and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“And watching her shoot earlier?”

“Really sold me on it.” Both of the vigilantes on the roof laughed for a moment before coming back to the comfortable quiet that had previously surrounded the conversation.

“Does she know who you are?” Dick asked carefully. He didn’t want to scare Jason off the topic.

“No.”

“Have you thought about telling her?”

“All the time! But I have no idea where to start.” He got so quiet Dick could barely hear him. “What if I pull off the mask and she doesn’t want me once she knows who I am. What if she doesn’t want to know at all.”

Dick fell silent for a moment as he considered Jason’s words. His fears made perfect sense, but they would hold him back if he didn’t overcome them. “If you’re worried about her liking Jason, then you should meet her as Jason and see what happens.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean introduce yourself and start a conversation and let her decide how she feels about you when the mask isn’t in the picture. Then once you know, you can decide if you want to tell her or if it’s time to move on.”

Jason nodded his head and was about to respond when his bracelet lit up, and his eyes snapped down to you, walking away from the police that still surrounded the building. He looked back to Dick who had clearly also seen the glow.

“Go get your girl, Hood. I’ll cover your route.”

Jason cocked his head in disbelief. “You’d do that?”

“Just go.” Dick said, standing up and offering a hand to the other man, which wasn’t taken as Jason simply pushed off the side and fell, landing silently in the alley only a few yards behind you. The smirk on Dick’s face only grew as he watched his little brother jog a few strides to catch up to you before throwing an arm over your shoulder. He shook his head. It was clear to him his brother was over the moon.

-

You tucked into Red Hood’s side as he draped his left arm over your shoulders, grateful for the warmth he provided. “How’s your arm?” You asked.

“It’s good, it’s healing really well,” He held it up as though to show you, even though it was covered in his uniform and jacket. “I don’t think I pulled any of the stitches in that fight; I feel like it would hurt, right?”

You laughed and nodded. “Yes, it would. I didn’t want to interrupt your healing, but I knew calling for you was probably the fastest way to get help.”

“You did the right thing. I was coming out tonight anyway.”

“What?” You questioned, turning your head to look at him pointedly.

“Woah,” He recoiled a little in surprise at your tone shift. “I have to do my job, sweetheart, and besides, everything turned out fine.”

You looked down again, shaking your head defeatedly. “I wish you’d take care of yourself.”

Jason’s mood sobered immediately. “Oh. I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

“No, I’m sorry.” You interrupted him, hands coming to your face in embarrassment. “I know that’s not fair to ask. I just meant that there’s like eight of you, so I thought you’d be able to at least take a day, but-”

“Hey, stop.” It was his turn to interrupt you, and he stopped the two of you walking so he could look at you head on. “I get it, and I hear you. I will try to do better.” He could start by actually reporting when he was injured. His heart melted when he saw your small nod, still clearly unsure. He looked around for a moment before reaching down for your hand. He knew it would make you a target if anyone saw, but there was no one around anyway. He used his grip on your palm to lead you as he started walking again and was happy to find that you threaded your fingers between his gloved ones. “Do you have other places to be tonight, or can I walk you home?”

“Home first for a while,” You responded. “Hey, how did you know I was at work today? I didn’t even get called in until after you left last night.”

He saw you there when he took Tim in for a busted nose this morning. “Lucky guess.”

You snorted, clearly not believing him. “I’m not going to ask any follow up questions, because I don’t think I want the answers. Thank you for the flowers, they’re gorgeous.”

“Sure, I’m glad you liked them.” Jason did his best to sound casual despite his heart jumping into his throat. He had been worried the color would be over the top but was happy to hear that you enjoyed them. “You said “home for a while.” Are you headed somewhere else?”

You gave a nod. “Marcy invited me out for drinks.”

“You’re going back out for drinks after being present for an armed robbery?” he questioned in disbelief.

“I think I’ve earned a drink after all that, don’t you?” You looked up at him with one eyebrow cocked in a dare for him to say something.

He could only shake his head as he relented. “You are something else.”

“I live in Gotham. If I got hung up on every time I witnessed a crime, I’d never go outside again. There are much worse things than walking out of a bank robbery unharmed.”

A hum of approval rumbled in his chest. “That I can agree with.”

“Largely thanks to you in fact,” you stated, pressing your elbow lightly into his ribs.

“Who, me?” He questioned, pushing as much innocence into his tone as he could muster. “Nah, you had it handled all on your own. Five of those guys are going to prison in casts because of you.”

A smirk of pride donned on your face for only a moment. “I almost got shot, though. The only reason I’m not in the hospital or dead right now is you. Thank you.”

“Always, sweetheart.” He gave your hand a squeeze for emphasis. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

You were quiet for a moment before you summoned the courage to bring up the man that taught you to handle firearms. “My dad was big about being able to defend myself if I was ever going to live on my own. After that, practice, mostly.”

Jason nodded thoughtfully. “If there was ever a place to need it, it’s here.”

“No kidding.” You could only hope that he’d answer your next question, knowing it might have been too personal. “What about you? I can’t imagine you were born into all of this.”

“Actually,” A tightness formed in Jason’s shoulders as he considered how much he could tell you. He wanted you to know everything. “I grew up mostly on the streets here, so I sort of was born into it.”

“Oh…”

“Aw, don’t get too sad on me now.” He shook your hand where it was still wrapped in his, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m doing just fine these days.”

“You deserve better than that, I hope you know.” You leaned into him a little, putting you off balance for a few steps as you relied on him to keep you upright.

“I have it.” He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb to reassure you as you continued to walk to your apartment.

When you approached your building, you pulled him down the alley and turned to face Red Hood without letting go of his hand, wanting to get every extra second out of this before he needed to leave. “So, I’ll see you later?”

He nodded. “I’ll be around. I still don’t think it’s a good idea to go out tonight. You should rest.”

You laughed at the irony. “You’re the one working with an injury, I’m just fine. Besides, it’s just the dive bar off 5th. We go there all the time; I will be okay.” You brought your hands up to straighten the collar of his jacket.

Jason gave a snort of disapproval, doing everything he could to ignore your hands on his chest. “If anything, I’m more worried about you now.”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I can call you if something happens.” A small stretch of quiet fell over the two of you and you realized for the first time how close you were. Your hands were still on his chest, playing with the edges of his jacket. “Thanks for coming to save me.”

He huffed a laugh. “’Course. I would’ve been pissed if I got there, and the cops had let anything happen to you.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him but didn’t stop messing with the zipper teeth in your grasp. “Stop it, Red, you’re making me blush.”

“And if I wanted to?” He stepped closer, forcing you to tilt your head farther to be able to look him in the eyes of his mask as he stared down at you and slid his left arm around your waist.

You gasped almost inaudibly, and your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest if you didn’t find a way to calm down. When you spoke, it was barely above a whisper, and you maintained eye contact with the mask. “This is the part where I’d kiss you goodnight if I could see your face.”

Fuck it. He’d take the helmet off in front of a crowd of a thousand people right now if you asked him to. But before he got the chance to say so, he felt you heave in a breath and push slightly against his chest. He gave no resistance, letting you create the space you wanted.

“Goodnight, Red.”

He felt himself let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as you gave him a soft smile, almost apologetic, before you stepped out of his grasp. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You turned to begin your walk away, but thought better of it, facing the man again for just a moment as you asked, “Do you want to come by tomorrow so I can take care of your stitches?”

“I’ll let you know when I’m on the way.”

Your smile was wide when you nodded at him before turning away, leaving the alley Jason stood in. He wouldn’t wait until tomorrow. He’d see you tonight.

-

Meeting up with Marcy was always a good time. Even on nights you hadn’t wanted to go out, you found that your friend somehow managed to supply enough social energy for the both of you, and tonight was no different. It was the same dive bar the pair of you always seemed to end up at, where the bartenders knew you, and probably overpoured most of the drinks they put out. The music was always a little too loud, the lights a little too dim, and the crowd was a constant mix of regulars talking amongst each other and bar-crawlers that had been kicked out of everywhere else.

You managed to step out of the way just as another woman’s drink sloshed over the side of her glass and splashed on the floor. “Oh!” She shrieked, eyes covered in a glitter that told you this was not her first stop of the evening. “Sorry!” She gave a short smile and a wave as she walked away.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you took the last couple steps up to fill the now open space in front of the bar. The floor was always sticky anyway.

“Hey! Y/n,” The bartender, Aaron, gave a wide smile as he saw you approach. “It’s been a minute, how are you?”

“I’m good, Aaron. Can I get two of the usual?” You asked, throwing two fingers up as an indicator in case he couldn’t hear.

He nodded in response. “Marcy with you?”

“Do I ever come out if she isn’t?” The two had been flirting with each other for the better part of a year, but never progressed past an occasional date or hookup. Marcy always told you it was because she’d pushed her expectations too high and didn’t want to ruin it. You knew it was because she was terrified of commitment. “You want me to send her over here for the next round?”

Aaron set the drinks down in front of you with a wink. “You’re the best.”

“And that’s why I’m your favorite!” You yelled as the music swelled.

“You’re my favorite because you tip well!” He shot back as he poured a round of shots for someone a few spaces down the bar.

You slid your card across the bar. “I had to buy your love somehow!”

You waited until you saw him pick up your card with a small salute to let you know he’d start a tab as usual for you before you walked away. Marcy had found your regular table along one of the walls, where she had a perfect view of the bar (and the man behind it) from her side of the booth.

“Hey! Took you long enough.” She took her glass from you and downed half of her drink in a gulp. “I’m going to need another in a minute.”

“Woah,” You cocked your head at her. “Everything okay?”

Marcy scoffed. “Work was atrocious last night, but you know that. And now I come out to try to relax and as soon as we get in here, I see some girl in a Coachella outfit is flirting with Aaron.” Her pout was exaggerated by her scowl when the girl who’d almost spilled her drink on you walked by.

“Flirting with the newbies gets him tips, Marce. And if you wanted to lock it down you could. You choose not to.”

“Ugh.” She finished her drink and snatched yours before you’d even gotten a sip from it. “I want you to bitch with me, not be a reasonable adult.”

You chuckled at her antics. “Okay, so she’s the worst for flirting with your man, and Aaron is the worst for… smiling at the people who pay him?”

She rolled her eyes playfully at you. “You know, not all of us can have perfect secret boyfriends. Some of us are destined to be alone for the rest of our lives.”

“Ha!” The noise escaped you before you could stop it, but you swerved the conversation away from your top-secret not-boyfriend. “Aaron would propose to you tomorrow if he thought you’d say yes.”

“Liar.” She grumbled, but the blush on her cheeks told you she likely agreed. “I’m going to go get another round.”

“You mean number three for you and my first one?”

“Shh.” She held a finger to her lips as she shushed you. “Shut up, judgy. Did you put your card down for a tab already?”

You nodded.

“M’kay.” She picked up the glasses to take back to the bar. “I’ll swap out. It’s not fair to have you pay when you need to be sober enough to get me back to your place in a couple hours.” You could only shake your head and smile at her as she walked away.

The night went much as it usually did when the two of you went out, Marcy indulging more than you, though she had thankfully slowed down some. She was drunk but would still be okay to make it to the car, and you’d only had one before realizing you’d need to drive and promptly switched to soda.

“No, because listen. I get he’s your favorite, or whatever, but Red Hood is so aggressive ya know? And I just, I don’t know… Nightwing does all those flips and stuff and he’s so pretty.”

You shook your head. This was somehow always where conversation with drunk Marcy ended up: speculation on the secret lives of Gotham’s vigilantes. “Marce, how do you know he’s pretty? They all wear masks.”

“No really, you can just tell, I swear and-” She stopped mid-sentence and did a double take toward the bar before looking back to you with wide eyes.

For a moment, worry crossed your mind as you looked at her. “What? What happened?” You asked, hushed in tone.

She tilted her head slightly toward the bar, eyes remaining as wide as they’d go. “There’s a Wayne over there.”

You squinted incredulously at her. “I’m sorry, a what?”

“A Wayne. In our little dive bar.” She looked over to the bar again slowly before her head snapped back to you. “And he’s staring.”

“Marcy, you’re staring. Knock it off.” You waited for her face to return mostly to normal before you chanced a glance in the direction of the bar. “And what do you mean he’s-” Your sentence dropped off when you made eye contact with the man you assumed she must be referring to. He was handsome; tall and wide, with a streak of white in his otherwise dark waves. And Marcy was right, he was staring. You turned slightly to ask her a question, without breaking your gaze on the man. “How do you know he’s a Wayne?”

“Didn’t I tell you they all fit the bill of “tall, dark, and handsome?” Especially the older two,” She let out a long whistle before continuing, “Besides, I saw him in the hospital this morning.”

“What?” That brought your attention back to Marcy.

“Yeah, that one’s Jason Todd, he brought one of the middle kids in this morning for a broken nose I think?” She scrunched her face as she tried to remember information that she shouldn’t be telling you.

“What’s a Wayne doing in a bar like this?” You questioned to yourself, still feeling his gaze on you.

“You’re going to go find out.”

“What? No.” You shot her down immediately.

“Babe one of us has to and it can’t be me, I can’t stand up by myself. You’re up, buttercup.” Marcy gestured toward the man very visibly with her hand as the end of her sentence got loud.

“Marcy,” You hissed through your teeth. “You’re making a scene.”

She leaned in close over the table as you reached for her hand, and her tone sounded deceptively sober when she spoke. “I will make a scene so big I will get casting calls about it if you don’t go over there. You have a boyfriend who doesn’t hang out with you in public, and a Wayne who is blatantly staring at you in the middle of a dive bar. One of those things is going to get you attention right now, and it’s not the secret one.”

“But-”

“It’s not cheating to just have a conversation and flirt,” She misread your hesitance and continued with her scheming. “You deserve to be flirted with and made to feel like you’re special because you are. And babes? A Wayne who can’t take his eyes off you is pretty damn special, so you go, or I start yelling.” She let go of you and leaned back, tipsy smile returning to her features and eyebrows raised in challenge.

“Fine.”

“Yay,” she said it in a whisper and softly clapped to herself as she watched you stand and make your way to the bar.

“Hey, Aaron?”

He slid over quickly, “Yeah?”

You smiled at him apologetically. “Can you send some fries out to Marcy please? She needs something other than liquor in her stomach right now.”

He chuckled and rang it into the register. “Sure thing. Anything else to drink?”

“Maybe water for her, but I’m okay.”

“You got it.” He gave a wink before moving on to the next person that called for his attention.

“Not drinking tonight?” A man asked right behind you, and you flinched at the proximity before whipping around.

You had to back all the way up to the bar to avoid touching the blond that loomed over you, breathing tequila into your air. “Uh, no.” Your brain ran through all of your options if this went any further, the easiest by far, would be to knee him in the groin and get Aaron to kick him out afterward.

“Aw come on, Dollface, you sure I can’t buy you just one?” He brought a hand up like he was going to touch your face. “Sometimes that’s all it takes to-” His hand was ripped away by something moving so fast you barely saw it.

“She said no.”

You turned your head and found none other than Jason Todd standing beside you, hand still clutching the man’s wrist and staring him down with venom in his eyes.

“Hey, man, if she’s your girlfriend or something,” His voice was laced with fear as he stared up at his captor. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Beat it.”

You watched as the man nodded only slightly before he was released, and he immediately fled across the room to a group noisily occupying a table in the corner.

“Are you okay?”

You looked up to find the softest green eyes you’d ever seen looking down at you full of concern. Your mind went blank for a moment as you stared before you were able to find words again. “Um, yeah, I’m okay I think.” You cocked your head a little and turned to face him. “Thanks for doing that, I really didn’t want to cause an issue for Aaron.” You gestured to the man behind the counter, still bouncing from person to person as he worked.

“I’m glad I could take care of it for you then.” He rested one elbow against the countertop and leaned into it, lessening your height difference by a couple of inches in the process. “I’m Jason.”

“I’m Y/n,” you responded. “And you’re my hero, so can I buy you a drink as a thank you?” You didn’t miss the way he barely flinched at the word “hero,” and a spark of familiarity went off in the back of your mind.

“I’m actually driving tonight, so no thank you. But I’d love to keep your attention for a while if you have the time.”

You nodded and smiled, “Sure.”

Jason’s heart leapt into his throat as it always seemed to around you when you looked into his eyes and smiled at him. Everything in him was desperate to touch you, but he knew that like this, you didn’t know him. The last thing he’d want is to scare you, especially after that creep had just tried to put his hands on you. “So, what brings you out tonight?”

“I came out with a friend,” You turned slightly to spot Marcy at your table, and she waved a French fry in greeting. You waved back and she gave a thumbs up, which you knew was visible to the man standing next to you. You heard him chuckle and turned back to face him. “Sorry about her, she’s…” You trailed off trying to think of the right word, “excited.”

“Over me?” He looked almost surprised at the notion, pressing a hand to his chest in feigned shock.

“She wanted me to find out what a Wayne was doing in a dive bar on this side of town.” You said defeated, hoping he wouldn’t be too offended by the task set out for you.

He smirked and the look brought a slight heat to your cheeks. “Oh, so you do know who I am. And here I thought I was pretty incognito, walking around in a hoodie.”

“Only because she told me.” Your hands went up in defense of yourself, but there was a sense of comfort in the conversation that you couldn’t place. It was almost like you knew him. “I had no idea what you even looked like until she said something. I don’t pay attention to the tabloids about your family, or in general.” You added the last bit with a mild look of disgust on your face. You never understood the point of stalking local celebrities just to put their breakfast sandwich of the day all over the front page.

“More of a classics reader, then?” He suggested, hoping he wasn’t pushing too far into familiar territory.

Your eyes snapped back to his, and you couldn’t help the suspicion that crept into your tone when you responded, “Yeah, actually. How did you-” Your question was cut off by someone bumping into you from behind, startling you out of your confusion. You felt another shove come as a big group of people tried to get to the front of a quickly forming line to close tabs, but you were immediately shielded from anything else as Jason switched your places. His back was now turned to the people crowding by the bar, and he’d wrapped his left arm around you to keep you close and protected. You had to look up significantly farther now to look in his eyes as his chest was almost pressed against yours. You’d been here before. A quick inhale rushed through your nose at the realization, and then you noticed the smell. A familiar mahogany cologne, though much stronger now, and leather, with just the slightest hint of gun-smoke.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and there was a lump forming in your throat as you looked at Jason and found him searching your eyes. Almost as though to encourage you, you felt small, absent-minded patterns being traced into your back and you released a breathy exhale. One of your hands found its way to his chest and rested over his heart, just as you’d done for Red Hood before, and you watched the man in front of you now relax into your touch. It was there, on the tip of your tongue, just waiting for you to ask.

“Y/n.”

The trance was shattered as your head snapped to look at Aaron, getting your attention from across the bar.

He looked genuinely apologetic, “Listen, I’m sorry to break up a moment, but Marcy is falling asleep at the table. She needs to go home.”

You nodded. “I got her.” And the man returned to his line. You turned back to Jason, who’d backed up some, and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I,” Your breath heaved like you were going to sob as emotions you had no idea how to sort through began flooding your mind. “I have to go, I think.”

He nodded and released you the rest of the way, taking a full step back. “I get it. Go take care of your friend.” He gave you a reassuring side smile to let you know things were okay, and you were gone.

As you walked away from Jason Todd, your thoughts were sprinting and you weren’t sure you could pin down a single one of them, except that maybe you had just met Red without his mask. It was too many coincidences, right? But neither of you had said anything about it. It was him; it had to be. But if it wasn’t, then you were the biggest idiot of all time, desperate to assign a face to a name.

As Jason watched you walk away, he cursed to himself for not saying anything to you outright. You had to know, right? He was certain he’d seen it in your eyes: the realization. But more than anything he hoped that he hadn’t just ruined it all. Either way, he’d find out tomorrow.

You’d closed Marcy’s tab and collected her as quickly as possible and were now helping her stumble to the passenger seat of her car.

“You’re so nice, helping me stand, I love you.” She booped your nose with the tip of her finger just before she dropped into the seat. “Watching my feet,” she said lazily, anticipating your next words accurately. She dragged her feet away from the door as you closed it and moved to the other side of the car.

When you opened the door and turned, about to sit down behind the wheel, you noticed the bike in the front corner of the lot, up on the sidewalk. It was the same one you’d been on the back of weeks ago, you were sure of it. So that had to be him. When you were finally in the car, doors closed and key in the ignition, you took a deep breath to settle your emotions before putting the car in gear.

“Hey,” Marcy tried for your attention once the vehicle was moving. “You guys looked pretty cozy in there.” Her words were sing-songy as she turned as much as she was able under her seatbelt to face you. “Was that Secret Boyfriend?”

You were pretty fucking sure he was. “No, Marcy, of course not.”

Her bottom lip jutted out. “Bummer. You could use a sugar daddy.”

“Marcy!”

“No! Not “Marcy!”” she shouted back. “I’m drunk I get to say whatever I want and you gotta be nice to me.”

You could only shake your head at her and let the car fall back into silence so you could think. It made sense why he was so protective of his identity. Being a billionaire’s adopted son would certainly already make him a target for anyone hoping to make ransom money, but being a vigilante on top of it? Of course he couldn’t outright tell you anything. He probably swore some oath with the others that none of them could ever reveal themselves. Blatantly telling you who he was would be a huge safety risk. And he’d all but done it tonight because you asked him to. You’d crossed a line earlier. You’d told him you wanted him to take off the mask, the thing that protects his identity, and therefore his safety. And then he’d shown up to you without it.

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach. He was putting himself in danger because of you.

-

Jason wasn’t on patrol tonight, and he knew Dick knew that, so there was no reason to lie when Dick pointedly asked, “What are you getting dressed for?”

“I’m going to get my stitches out,” Jason replied with a shrug, doing his best to conceal the nervous excitement in his chest.

“And the fact that everyone in this house, including you is capable of doing that?” Dick questioned further with his head cocked to the side.

“Irrelevant.”

The older of the two smiled. “What are you going to tell her?”

“Everything,” Jason answered without hesitation. “Or as much as she’ll let me.”

Dick nodded as he listened. “Are you nervous?”

“Extremely.” He huffed a shaky breath at the admission, knowing it was okay to talk to Dick about this, but still having trouble putting the feelings into words. “She seemed to like me okay at the bar, and I think she already knows, but there’s that voice in the back of my head telling me it’s all going to go to shit, and I just don’t see it yet.” He sat down to lace up his boots, and Dick sat beside him.

“I’m sure it’s gonna be fine, Jaybird, you just have to give it a chance.” He leaned over and wrapped an arm around the larger man in a side hug for a moment before leaving Jason alone with his thoughts.

When Jason activated his bracelet, you responded almost immediately, and it made him smile to think that you might even be excited to see him. It took only a couple of minutes to get to your apartment on his bike, and when he landed on the fire escape, he saw the window was left open a couple of inches. He squinted slightly at your disregard for safety and called out your name as he pulled the window open slowly but did not enter.

“It’s open!” He heard you call back from somewhere else in the apartment.

Jason still proceeded slowly so he wouldn’t scare you as he ducked through the window and closed it behind him. He drew the curtains shut for good measure. He didn’t need any prying eyes for this. He took notice of the vase on your counter containing the dahlias he’d sent you, and he smiled to himself at the thought that you’d taken the time to put them in water, so they’d last. He’d bring you flowers like that every week if you wanted them. It was then that you came around the corner, medical box in hand.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a smile spread on your face and Jason felt his heartbeat down to his fingertips.

“Hi,” he responded, almost breathless from nerves. “Where do you want me?”

“Couch is fine.”

He nodded and removed his jacket and gloves, placing them on the coffee table in a neat pile before he sat down in the same place he had last time he was here. There was no more pain in his arm as he moved his wrist and fingers, only a tight discomfort to having the stitches still embedded in a wound that no longer needed them.

“Are you on patrol tonight?” You asked, setting the med kit down on the coffee table before taking a seat next to him on the couch.

You took Jason’s hand when he offered it, and he immediately captured your fingers in his. “No, I’ve got time.” The two of you sat for a moment in silence, Jason tracing patterns into the base of your thumb with his own before you spoke up.

“Red?”

“Hm?” He hummed in response, but stayed lost in thought, focused on the contact.

“I can’t pull your stitches one handed.”

Jason’s head snapped back up and his eyes met yours through the mask. Your smile was sincere and almost apologetic, head tilted to the side slightly as you watched him. “Right,” he breathed the word. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just know these have to be bothering you.” You pulled his sleeve back and found an almost completely healed cut, that would hardly leave a scar. Your chest filled with pride as you turned to get the supplies you’d need. “It looks really good.”

“Yeah, that compound is impressive,” he noted as he watched you pull on a pair of gloves. “I got caught with the stitches, and everyone’s kind of in shock about how well it’s healing.”

“Oh so “everyone” knows about me now?” You asked as you got to work on his arm. “Should I expect the rest of the vigilantes to start showing up now? I’ll need more supplies…”

“I’m not letting them anywhere near you.”

“Is that you being protective or possessive, Red?”

Jason could have sworn his heart stopped at the way you looked up at him through your eyelashes when you asked that question. He cleared his throat, happy that his mask covered the fact that his face was a matching shade of red, “Protective, obviously. It would be a huge risk to draw more attention to you. You could get hurt, and-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” A small laugh bubbled from you at his rambling. “I’m not mad, I was just trying to poke, that’s all.”

He nodded and shut up, afraid to put his foot further into his mouth. Instead, he opted to watch you work as you carefully pulled each thread from his arm, your face in a relaxed concentration, like you’d done this a thousand times. “You’re so good at that.”

You froze for a moment and swallowed hard as you felt heat press up the back of your neck at the praise. There wasn’t another part of his sentence to latch onto and ignore the compliment, so all you could do was accept it. “Thank you. It’s taken a lot of practice.”

The pair of you fell into a comfortable silence as you finished by putting a bit more of the compound over the pinpricks in his skin, and this time he didn’t fight you on it.

“You’re healing faster than I expected you to, so you might not even need to keep it wrapped for more than a day or two, and you should have your full range of motion back.” You spoke while you wrapped his arm in a bandage, doing everything you could not to be distracted by the veins cording over the muscle there.

When you let go of him and stood to clean up, Jason tested to see if you were right. He pushed up his other sleeve and moved his arms the same, watching to make sure they looked the same as he slowly rotated his wrists and bent at the elbows. He found that he did have full range of motion, and the pain was gone; all he felt was a bit of soreness. “Thank you,” He stated once you’d sat back down.

“Of course,” you responded without hesitation, “Whenever you need someone to patch you up, you know I’m-”

“No, I mean-” He huffed a sigh, trying to find the right words, and was thankful you had the patience to wait for him to figure it out. “I’ve never- I’m not- fuck,” He growled in frustration. “Just give me a second.” He forced a breath out and felt your hand press against his chest. He covered it with his own, head hung, and eyes closed beneath the mask as he held onto you like an anchor. Feelings were hard. “I care about you. More than I care about most people, and I know that that’s insane, but it’s just- You give a shit. And then you don’t expect anything in return. And you take care of me. And it’s not just when I’m hurt; I can relax around you. I let my guard down and it scares the shit out of me, but I don’t hate it.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say, so you chose not to. Instead, you pulled your hand from beneath his on his chest and wrapped your arms around him. Your left arm draped around his bicep and your right guided his head over your shoulder, your fingers resting at the nape of his neck as though to play with his hair if you had access to it. When you felt him settle into your hold and return it, you released a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I could ever not care about you.” With tears in your eyes, you breathed the sentiment into the side of his head and hoped he felt it.

The idea crossed into Jason’s mind and took root on its own. He wanted to kiss you now, and he knew a way. “Do you trust me?” It was barely more than a whisper from where his head was buried in your neck.

“Always,” came with a little squeeze around his shoulders.

Jason untangled himself from you, only enough to see your face. “Close your eyes.” He watched as you looked back and forth between the lenses of his mask for just a moment before you complied and swallowed a lump in your throat. He found your wrists before you were able to pull them back, and he slowly brought your hands to the sides of his helmet. He covered each of your fingers with his own as he guided you to where the release buttons were, just behind each of his ears. He pressed your index fingers into them and when the soft click sounded, he used your hands to pull the helmet free. There was no domino mask beneath it tonight. He could see how much faster your breathing had gotten when he took the helmet from you and set it aside.

Jason watched you carefully for any sign of discomfort as he reached for your face. He first ran a thumb over your cheekbone and felt you press into the touch. He then dragged it gently over your bottom lip, and when he heard the soft gasp it drew from you, his restraint vanished. He closed the distance.

When Red Hood’s lips met yours, it felt like it was the first time you’d ever really been kissed. Your arms immediately wrapped back around him, fingers finding their way to his hair this time as you pulled him as close as you could get him. It was as though he’d had the same thought, because suddenly you were lifted by his arms, now around your waist, and placed in his lap. You refused to let the movement distract you and instead used it to get into a more comfortable position straddling his thighs. It only seemed to spur him further, and when you felt his tongue brush against your lip, you allowed him full access. You moaned slightly at the taste of him in your mouth, and you felt one of his hands crush into your hip to push you back slightly.

He continued to kiss you, but he let the pace slow so it wouldn’t escalate any further. He needed to keep control of himself if he was going to have any kind of meaningful conversation with you after this. As the kiss turned more languid and comfortable, Jason dragged his thumb back and forth over your jaw while the rest of his hand rested against the side of your neck. Finally, he thought. He’d been wanting this for months. A small smile crossed his features, and he knew you could feel it by the appreciative hum you released in response. He felt a smile on your face for a moment as well.

“Y/n,” he started between kisses.

“Hm?” Was all the response you gave as you continued to melt into him, convinced you didn’t need air anymore as long as you could keep kissing him.

He pressed one more long but chaste kiss to your lips before pressing his forehead to yours. A new wave of nerves crashed over him as he considered his next words. “You can open your eyes now.”

You wanted to. “Wait,” The only reason he was doing this was because you asked him to. It was a huge risk to his safety, and he was going to show you anyway because of you. “You don’t have to do that for me, it’s not worth the- Red?”

Jason didn’t even hear the end of your sentence as his ears began ringing. He was right before. You didn’t want to know; it was better for you if he stayed under the mask. He pulled you off him and got up, and in an instant his helmet was secured again.

“Wait, Red-” You shot up from where he’d placed you on the couch and opened your eyes to find he was pulling his gloves on as he walked toward the fire escape. Tears sprung into your eyes. This wasn’t what you wanted. “Hold on, I wasn’t- stop!” You reached for his arm and your fingers latched onto the leather of the jacket he had yet to throw back on. He froze under your grasp. “Please, I just don’t want to make things more complicated for you. I don’t want to uproot your whole life like this, it would change everything for you.”

“Oh, we’re way past that, Sweetheart.” There was a venom in his voice, and he watched you flinch at the sour use of the name. Don’t. Something in him still didn’t want to hurt you.

“What?” You questioned and Jason’s heart only broke more as he watched tears stream from your eyes as you clutched the jacket draped over his arm.

He ripped it from your grasp as he spoke. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you around.” He turned and ignored your pleas for him not to go as he ripped the window open and disappeared.

What the hell just happened? was your only thought after he was gone. You broke down.

Jason’s ride home was brutal as he stewed in the rejection. He should have known better than to think you’d ever want him. The Red Hood, sure, but the forgotten, useless, Wayne son? Not a fucking chance. When he got home, Jason didn’t even bother putting his suit away. He stormed through the cave, ignoring Alfred as the man attempted to ask what was wrong, and when he got back to the manner, helmet under his arm, he headed straight for his room. Dick caught him in the hallway just outside his bedroom door.

“Woah, hey! How’d it go?” He put his hands out in front of himself toward Jason in attempt to slow him, but the younger man blew past him.

“Fuck you and your stupid fucking advice about giving shit a chance!” Jason turned to scream it in his brother’s face, tears visible in his eyes, before slamming the door shut behind him.

Dick could hear the crash and clattering of what was likely Jason’s helmet colliding with whatever used to be on the top of Jason’s dresser or nightstand. “So not great then,” he said to no one but himself.

Tag list: @4rachn3, @lettucel0ver

[aro-of-argentum]

Red Dahlia- Chapter 6

WC: 4,336

Notes: Jason is injured again and so so SO touch starved, Reader patches him up and answers questions, a stab wound and a bunch of stitches for it, Red gets an armor upgrade, Jason's unchecked temper, sibling bickering, Jason is a SAP and we love him for it

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

Previous Chapter, Masterlist, Next Chapter

Chapter 6:

Gotham General Hospital was busier than ever this time of year. There was an increase in patient volume, typically due to ice and snow related injuries, and there was a staff shortage on nearly every shift as many of the employees used their vacation time for the holidays. Because of this, it was an incredible and rare opportunity for you to take an entire day off work; when you got one, you relished it. You’d spent most of the day running errands, cleaning, and cooking for the week, before you’d finally sat down with your book. Today it was a copy of “Persuasion” by Jane Austen, which had appeared on your windowsill two nights ago.

It had become a habit of yours to pretend you were on the phone as you told Red Hood about your day on your walk home. Sometimes, that included your thoughts on whatever you’d been reading. Prior to the book currently in your hands, it was “Don Quixote,” and when you’d announced to thin air that you’d finished it, the new-to-you Austen work had shown up the next night. You were four chapters in when your bracelet lit up.

“Red?” you asked the empty room as you sat up on your couch. You marked your page and set the book aside before tapping the bracelet’s face to activate the proximity indicator. A quick turn of the disc put up the small projection of a map above your wrist, and you saw that he was only about a block away. He closed the distance in no time, and just as you crossed the room to your window, he dropped gracefully onto your fire escape. You flinched- as you assumed you probably always would when an enormous man appeared from nowhere in front of you- but opened the window anyway.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” The smile you gave him disappeared almost instantly as you realized he had his right arm tucked in as closely as he could get it to his side. You moved out of the way and ushered him inside before sliding the window and curtains shut. You turned to him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I uh,” He sounded out of breath as he answered. “Asshole had a big knife.”

“Okay,” You nodded and directed him to sit on the couch, then quickly retrieved your kit. You pulled a pair of gloves on and set out everything you’d need on the coffee table. “Here.” You held out your hand and waited for him to offer his. When he finally placed his hand in yours, you unwrapped the strip of fabric wound around his arm and saw the gash on the side of his forearm that stretched from the base of his thumb to the inside crease of his elbow. A long sigh left your chest as you collected your thoughts, and you continued to stare at the wound as you spoke. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Good news would be great.” He forced out, discomfort and pain lacing his tone.

“It’s not super deep, and it’s a very clean cut. The bad news is you still need stiches.”

He shook his head like it was no big deal as he shrugged out of his leather jacket. “Sounds good, whatever you need to do.”

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself and nodded, getting your head right for the task at hand. You sat next to him on the couch and pulled his hand into your lap so that you could more easily pull off his glove and roll up his sleeve as gently as possible. As soon as the fabrics were out of the way, you worked on cleaning the wound. It was already clotted, which told you he’d had it for a while before coming to you. “When did this happen?”

“Just over an hour ago,” He answered while watching you work. “I had to wait for GCPD to show up to make sure the guy didn’t get away.”

You nodded. “Hold this,” You waited until he used his other hand to apply pressure to the gauze you’d placed, then got up to retrieve the healing compound from its table. “Anyone I’d know?”

“Probably not,” He responded as he listened to your footsteps return. “Just some thug who thought robbing a convenience store without a gun was a good idea.”

A snort of a laugh left you as you sat back down on the couch, and you went back to work. “I’m glad your sense of humor isn’t broken, at least.”

Jason froze when he saw you open the bottle in your hand. “Don’t.”

You looked up at him, confused. “What?”

He shook his head, “You don’t need to use that. It would be a waste; it’s just a cut.”

“If I don’t, you’re going to have stitches all the way down your arm for a week at least.” You refocused on the cut and moved again to tip the bottle.

“Y/n.”

As your hand stopped, your gaze landed directly on the eyes of his helmet. “Red, please… Just let me do this for you.”

Jason struggled to swallow the lump in his throat but after a moment of staring at you through the lenses in his mask he relented and nodded at you. He watched as you tipped the bottle over with your finger over the top to wet the tip of the glove, then carefully ran that finger over the inside edges of the cut. He drew a hiss through his teeth at the discomfort.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m almost done.” You repeated the action on the other side of the wound before capping the bottle and setting it down. “Now just the stitches. This should be the easy part for you, yeah?”

A hollow chuckle left him. “Yeah.” He kept his right hand relaxed so you could work but clenched his left against the pain.

You noticed each time the needle pierced his skin he flinched but was careful not to move the arm you were working on, and soon you had finished the entire row of knots. You laid gauze over the whole cut and grabbed a bandage to wrap his arm. Even once it was secured, your hands lingered by his. “You should be able to pull those stitches the day after tomorrow, but you should keep it covered while you’re out in the field for at least three days.”

He nodded and responded with, “Yes ma’am,” and his heart warmed at the smile it drew from you. “Hey, question.”

“Yes?”

“Why non-dissolvable threads?”

“Oh, um,” You adjusted the way you were sat on the couch and pulled your hands away from his, busying yourself with cleaning up as you answered. “The compound eats through them too quickly. You heal faster with it, but you still need the stitches to hold everything together while it works, and the compound just breaks them down way sooner than the wound finishes healing usually.” You took a breath and looked back to him with a smile, now having everything packed back away in your kit or tossed into a bag you’d take to work to dispose. “Just safer this way. And less scarring, actually.” You gave a small shrug as though to punctuate the sentence.

He snorted. “I’ve already got plenty of those.”

“Right,” you said, sitting cross-legged on the couch, now with your back against the arm rest so you could face him. “So, you don’t need me adding any more gnarly ones.”

“With your stitching, Sweetheart, I doubt that would be an issue anyway.” He turned to face you as you spoke, right arm moving to rest on the back of the couch, one boot still on the ground.

Your cheeks heated at the endearment and the compliment and found yourself looking anywhere but at him. Your eyes landed on “Persuasion,” still sitting on the coffee table. “Oh! Thank you for the book by the way, I really like it so far.”

“Oh good, I hoped you would.” Jason was just as grateful for the change in topic as you were, fearing he had overstepped. “I saw you were reading “Pride and Prejudice” the first time we met, I thought you might like another Austen.”

A true laugh bubbled out of your chest. “Red, the night we met you were unconscious the whole time.”

“I was referring to the following day, actually, but I digress.” He ran his left hand down the side of his leg as though he was nervous, and started picking at the glove he still wore on that hand.

“Did you want me to-” You gestured toward his hand with an open palm. He placed his hand into yours and you loosened the strap before removing the glove and setting it next to its match on the coffee table. You smiled, and played with the bracelet there for a moment before asking, “Better?” You looked back up at him, almost hoping to see some kind of expression, but knowing you’d find none.

Jason nodded, slightly worried that if he moved too much the moment would break, but you hadn’t pulled your hand away from where it held his in front of him. Heart hammering in his chest, he adjusted to wrap his freed hand around your much smaller one and he slowly brought them both down to rest on the couch. When you still hadn’t pulled away, he used the contact as an anchor. It had been years since anyone other than his family had touched his skin. He needed to ask the question he’d been dreading. “Are you afraid of me? I don’t want you doing any of this because you’re scared.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I saw you flinch when I got here.” There was an undercurrent of uncertainty in his tone, and you watched him shift his weight unconsciously.

“A person the size of a refrigerator landed on my fire escape, in the dark, a foot from my face. Of course I flinched.”

He visibly cringed. “Yeah…”

“No, hey,” You scooted closer to him on the couch and reached your unoccupied hand to his chest, laying your open palm over his heart.  “I’m not scared of you. I was at first maybe; you threatened to kill me, it would have been stupid of me not to be,” When he moved to turn his head away in shame, you put your hand on the cheek of his helmet to bring his gaze back to you. “But Red, I’m the safest I’ve ever been because you’re looking out for me. I’m not afraid of you.”

He could have kissed you. He wanted to kiss you. He opted instead to pull you into him and hug you.

When he pulled you forward, you adjusted your legs to sit sideways in his lap so your chest could sit flush with his as you wrapped your arms around him. You felt the weight of his head on your shoulder, helmet pressing into the bare skin at the base of your neck, and as he pulled you closer still, you felt his left hand slide under the bottom of your shirt, his open palm resting against your spine. A sharp inhale dragged through your teeth at the contrast of temperature between the cold metal and the warmth of his skin on yours, but you refused to pull away.

Jason shuddered a breath when he felt you tighten your grip on him. He relaxed into your hold, and for the first time in a long time he felt truly at ease. This was almost normal. As he held you, he let his thoughts drift into what life might look like if you were in it long term, if you knew who he was.

Without releasing him, you asked, “You wanna tell me about it?”

“Hm?” He hummed in question, coming back to himself.

“Well, you’re covered in all this body armor, Red,” You tapped you fingers lightly against the armor that covered his back, “and you’re still coming to me with some pretty rough injuries.”

He huffed and smiled, pulling away from the hug slowly as he spoke. “Yeah, maybe, but the rest of me isn’t bulletproof, Sweetheart.” He let his left hand rest on your thigh after it dragged away from your back.

You chuckled. “You should get that checked out, Red. Can’t have you dying on me.” You leaned against his chest, using his right shoulder, arm still stretched out on the back of the couch, as a head rest.

You felt his head bob as he nodded. “I’ll get something figured out.” He squeezed your leg for just a moment before he started tracing a pattern there with his thumb, the same way he’d done with your hands when you’d gone for the drive.

“How long can you stay?” You asked, cautious and trying not to ruin the calm.

He released a long sigh that ended with a grunt of frustration. “I should’ve left already.”

“Oh…” You moved to give him room to get up, sliding over and off his lap, before picking up his gloves.

Jason watched you intently as you moved, wanting nothing more than to stop you, but he knew this was the right thing to do. He stood up and offered his hand to you, gently pulling you to your feet when you took it. He gestured to the gloves in your other hand. “Would you help me with those?”

You nodded, and a small smile only briefly crossing your face before disappointment returned to your features. You slid each of his gloves onto his hands and fastened the straps, more careful with his right hand, then pulled his sleeve gently back down over the wrapping. His gaze was heavy on you as you worked, but you weren’t bothered by it. “Okay, all set.”

Jason’s heart melted when you smiled up at him, and he closed the distance to wrap his arms around you again. “Thank you,” The words were breathed more than they were said, meaning so much more than just gratitude for stitching him up.

“Always,” You replied, cheek pressed against his chest and arms wrapped around his waist. “Remember, stitches can come out in a couple days, but you need to keep it wrapped until it’s healed.”

His response was a dutiful, “Yes ma’am.”

“And Red?” you asked, titling your head back to look at him.

“Yes?”

“Maybe figure out some better armor? I need to you to come back.”

His breath hitched in his throat. “Of course,” He pulled back only far enough to gently drop his forehead to yours, the metal pressing into your skin. “I will always come back.” Jason felt himself blush beneath his mask at the admission. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.” You nodded as he pulled away from you and crossed the room to the window.

He slid it open and was gone in an instant, barely even making a sound.

-

When Jason arrived back at the cave, the first thing he did was find Alfred.

“Yes, Master Jason?” Alfred turned in his chair to address the younger man, leaving the enormous computer to his right to be watched by Cassandra.

“Do we have armor options that have more coverage than what I’m wearing right now?” he asked, gesturing vaguely to his torso.

“Well, of course, Sir. Master Bruce has-”

“Too much,” Jason jumped in, “it’ll slow me down. Do we have something in the middle?”

Alfred thought for a moment before his eyes lit up with recognition. “I believe I have just the thing. Follow me.”

As Jason moved to follow Alfred away from the computer in the center of the cave, he caught Cassandra eyeing him carefully.

“What’s your issue?” He asked, almost daring her to pick a fight.

“Nothing.” Cassandra turned back to the computer in an act of surrender.

Jason squinted at her demeanor, as Cass wasn’t typically one to observe and not make observations, but continued to follow Alfred anyway. When he caught back up, he asked, “Did you already have something made?”

“Yes, quite some time ago, in fact.” Alfred pulled open the doors to the suit room, where many of the bats kept their uniforms, and made a beeline for a wardrobe in the corner, away from the display cases. When he found the correct piece, he pulled the hangar from the rod. “This,” he said, turning the long-sleeve garment already adorned with the Red Hood symbol toward the younger man, “is the same material as the one you wear now, except this has a thin layer of Kevlar all throughout, with more in places that don’t need to move as much as your joints do. The entire thing will stop a knife, which is more than can be said for your current uniform, and this one will provide additional coverage around your sides and all the way down your arms, rather than only your chest and back.” He held the shirt out to Jason, who took it gratefully with his left hand. “Would you like to try it on now?”

A panic briefly flooded over Jason as he considered that he would likely not be able to get changed by himself, let alone quickly. “Is it the same measurements?”

“Yes, Sir.” Alfred eyed Jason suspiciously, catching the glance the younger man threw to his right arm.

“Then I’m sure it’s fine Alfred. Thank you.”

“Of course, Sir.”

As Jason turned to leave with the new uniform piece, he was caught off guard by Alfred clearing his throat. He froze, shoulders raised, already knowing by the older man’s tone that he was likely going to be scolded.

“Master Jason, I’d be happy to take a look at your arm if it is bothering you.” He held out his hand, leaving no room for argument.

Jason hung the shirt in his section of the room before returning to Alfred, and carefully removing his glove and pulling up his sleeve, revealing the wrap you’d put on it only 30 minutes ago.

“Is this why you asked for additional armor?” Alfred questioned.

He nodded, “Mostly.” Jason began to peel away the bandage to show the slice beneath.

Alfred gasped. “Jason…”

“It’s not so bad. It wasn’t very deep, just long, and it’s only going to take a couple of days before it’s fully functional.”

“How can that be possible?”

“The same way that the gunshot a couple months ago took less than a week.” He cringed backward as he spoke, knowing that this likely sounded impossible.

“Am I going to get any further information from you if I continue to pry?”

Jason shook his head. “No. But I promise it’s taken care of.”

“Well, I can certainly see that.” Alfred carefully rolled Jason’s forearm over to examine it as he spoke. “In all my years in the military and taking care of this family, I never… These are more precise than mine.” By the end of his commentary, he was more talking to himself than anyone else. He spoke back up to ask, “Can I assume at least that these came from your friend?” He put an emphasis on the word “friend” that made it clear to Jason what he was implying.

The younger man nodded. “Yes.”

“Very well.” Alfred reapplied the bandage over Jason’s arm before releasing it. “I will say that I am rather impressed, and quite relieved.”

“Relieved?” Confusion contorted Jason’s features.

“I carried a great deal of concern regarding this “friend’s” intention toward you, but I can see there was a magnitude of care and attention paid to help you. My suspicions are averted.”

Jason smiled, happy to hear that Alfred was on his side about this, regardless of knowing hardly anything about the situation. It would help if Bruce ever found out and he needed defending. “Thanks, Alfred.”

“Of course, Master Jason. I am happy to have helped improve your uniform.” He nodded knowingly at the younger man before promptly leaving the room.

Just as Jason had pulled off his helmet, Cassandra popped in the door with her head cocked in accusation. “So…” She started, a fake innocence plastered across her face. “Alfred knows about the pretty little thing in scrubs then.”

Jason’s eyes locked on the wall in front of him. “What?” He growled.

“You didn’t really think none of us would recognize your bike, did you?” She knew exactly how to zero in on sensitive topics, and it ground on Jason’s nerves. “I was wondering why your patrols had been taking longer than normal, so I volunteered to work your route, and discovered her getting off the back of your motorcycle.”

“Cassandra.” Her full name through his teeth was a clear warning. She ignored it.

“And since you always take the same route, I would imagine she works at Gotham General.” Her analysis was cold and rooted in logic, and as always when she decided to investigate something, completely correct. “Do you walk her home at night?” The question was genuine, but it set him off nonetheless.

“Knock it off!” Jason’s helmet was already across the room by the time he noticed that he’d thrown it, and that Cassandra had ducked it. He stared at her, chest heaving in anger.

She stared back, eyes wide and observing every minute change in his behavior. “Touchy.”

“Who else knows?” He demanded.

“Dick is suspicious; otherwise, no one. If something is distracting you in the field then Bruce should be-”

“Don’t.”

“Or what?”

“Cass, please… Don’t.” His tone shifted as he nearly begged. He couldn’t lose you, and if Bruce found out he’d do everything in his power to stop Jason from seeing you again. “She’s good for me, and I-” he shook his head as he struggled to find the words. “Please don’t take this from me.”

Cassandra’s heart softened more than she’d ever admit at her brother’s words, and she caved. “Fine. You owe me.”

He nodded in agreement. “Sure.” He heard Cassandra mumble something about “stupid brothers” as she left the room.

Once he was alone again, Jason tried for a few minutes to get undressed before getting frustrated and giving up. He was still sitting on a bench brooding when Dick walked in the room minutes later, fresh off patrol.

He saw the red helmet on the floor and picked it up, dropping it next to Jason on the bench. “You good?” he asked as he walked by.

“No. I hurt my arm, and now I can’t even get my other fucking glove off.”

“Okay damn, little brother. Need some help?”

Jason huffed at the title, but knew he needed the assistance, so he grumbled a “Yes.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Dick questioned, snarky as ever but already walking over.

Jason scowled. “I will beat the shit out of you.”

The older Wayne only laughed as he reached for Jason’s glove. “You won’t, but okay.” He tossed the glove onto Jason’s pile. “Shirt too?”

“Yeah.”

As Jason bent down, Dick quickly pulled the shirt over his head and off. “I’m not taking your pants off.”

“Haha. Yes, thank you, Dickhead.”

“No problem.” Dick also got changed as Jason finished up, and his attention caught on the bracelet on his younger brother’s wrist. “Whatcha got there?” He nodded toward the chorded accessory as the two walked out of the room together.

He almost let out a snarky reply before remembering that Cassandra had mentioned Dick was suspicious something was going on. “It’s a good luck charm.” He offered instead.

Dick gave an accepting “Hm,” in response. He waited until the pair were back in the manor before asking, “Are you going to get something to eat or are you going straight to bed?”

Jason shook his head as he answered. “Bed. I’m exhausted.”

 “Okay.” He paused by the hallway to the kitchen as he watched Jason begin to climb the stairs. “You know I’m here if you want to talk about anything, right?”

“Thanks, Big Bird.” Jason waved over his shoulder as he continued walking up the stairs. When he finally got into his room, Jason’s bed was calling his name. He needed to shower; he was still covered in blood. He trudged to the bathroom and stepped in the shower, letting the scalding water run over his shoulders, right arm up with his palm against the wall to keep it out of the water. As soon as he was clean, he got out, dragged a towel over his hair, and pulled on a t-shirt and gym shorts. He fell into bed on his back, still protective of his wrapped arm, and closed his eyes. He expected he’d fall asleep immediately. He didn’t.

Instead, Jason’s mind wandered. First, he combed back through the events of the fight, of the feeling of the knife dragging on his arm, and the way he’d lost grip on his gun because of it. But the next feeling was you, holding his hand after you’d stitched him up, and the way your fingers curled so gently around his own. He could almost feel you pressed against his chest, and Jason found himself longing to hold you again. He wished you were with him. He imagined the way you might snuggle into his side if you were there, and how nice it would be to cook you breakfast in the morning. He wanted his family to know you, and he wanted you to know him. His heart fluttered every time you called him “Red.” Jason couldn’t fathom what it would feel like to hear you use his name. He wanted to reveal himself to you, he realized, he needed to. Because he hated that he was just a visitor you couldn’t talk about, a shadow that walked you home. But he wasn’t sure where to even begin. He needed advice, and he knew the best person to get it from. He'd talk to Dick tomorrow. He fell asleep thinking about you.

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