#(when jason finally realizes he's dead and feels the pain on that death again and has to tell bruce he forgives him and he loves him)

[paperedking]

jason & damian the sixth sense au

[spoilers for the sixth sense in the tags]

[xfiddlin-fishsticsx]

Robin woke up slowly, he blinked through the green and opened his eyes to a warmly lit room, as he looked around he realized it was a library, and from the little couch he was asleep on it seemed endless. He got up off the couch and stretched, aiming to explore further, when he was hit with a sharp pain between his eyes, he vision went blurry and dark for a moment before it cleared up and he suddenly remembered where he was.

This was his library, his lair. He had died and now he lived here, he knew he had died so why did it feel so wrong? He began to walk around, eventually finding the door that led to his personal area, the rest of the library was public.

He looked in the mirror he had in the room and usually it was nice to see the Robin suit, clean and undamaged, but now it just felt…off, wrong somehow, like he wasn’t supposed to be wearing it.

He heard a door open and shut somewhere and soft, clicky footsteps that made him feel fuzzy and his head swim with familiarity. He cautiously slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him and walking back through the shelves until he saw him and froze.

Standing in front of him was a tall young man, he had soft features and kind, tired, eyes that seemed to glow softly. His hair was a celestial white and he was dressed like royalty. Maybe he was royalty. Robin felt another burst of pain as he tried to remember who this was.

When his vision refocused the man was closer, and looking at him like there was something very sad happening, Robin wasn’t sure why he was so sad but he wanted him to stop. There wasn't anything sad here.

“Jason.” The man spoke softly, he had a nice voice, smooth and sad. Why did that name make his head hurt again? Was that his name? Robin figured it was.

The man walked closer to him, and the logical part of Robin’s brain was telling him not to let the unknown man get any closer, however the rest of him was buzzing with warmth and safety. He knew he knew this man, he just couldn’t remember why, he felt familiar in a way that said he wasn’t someone Robin knew in life, but someone he knew in death.

The man stopped in front of him and kneeled down, cupping Robin’s face with his pretty hands, his rings felt cool againt his cheeks and Robin felt safer than he had in probably a long time. It was nice. He liked this man.

But he was looking at him all sad again and he didn’t like that.

“Jason, you’re not supposed to be here”

Robin pulled back slightly, of course he was meant to be here! It was his lair.

“This is my lair, where else am I supposed to be? Who even are you?”

The man smiled softly and moved his hands to robins shoulders, “I know this is your lair, but you’re not supposed to be here right now, you’ve still got a while before you’re supposed to be back here again, you have to go back Jay. They need you.”

Robin didn’t understand, he was dead, he couldn’t ‘go back’

“Please Jace, don’t you see how this is wrong, you’re not Robin anymore, you haven’t been for a while now, this isn't right. They’ve done something to you and I’m sorry I can’t do much more than try to remind you but your family needs help, as much as I miss you, you have to go.”

Rob— Jason felt himself drifting, to where he didn’t know but it was probably wherever the man was telling him to go, he didn’t want to, it was nice here, and he wanted to see the man again, would he get to see him again?

“I promise I’ll come check on you soon, but right now I need you to let go Jason, you’ll see me soon and your lair will always be here waiting for you. Now please, go. I love you, I’ll see you on the other side ok?”

Jason nodded slightly and the man kissed his forehead as everything faded back to black.

——————————

Jason woke up in pain, his head was pounding and his vision was blurry, he couldn’t hear anything but he knew he was mad, he was always mad though wasn't he? The pain finally subsided and his vision began to clear. Something felt wrong, so very wrong, his head was swimming and his body was on fire, itchy, it felt like he was being held under water.

As he got more awareness back he realized his body was moving without him, as his brain slowly caught up he realized he was likely being mind controlled, or possibly possessed? Whatever it was was an invasion of privacy and Red Hood wanted the feeling gone.

So he pulled from the only constant in his life, the rage. The anger that sat deep in his chest and ate away at him but by bit everyday, he pushed and fought against the force holding him down but it wasn’t enough, he let the green take over to try and push the unknown control out of his mind and body, but he only succeeded when his mid suddenly cleared to the image, the memory of a pretty boy with sad, bright, neon green eyes looking up at him.

He burst through the control and finally felt like he could breathe again, his vision was still green and slowly going dark.

He was prepapred to be consumed, to go on a rampage no less damaging than when someone else was in control.

But nothing came, he just froze, his vision stayed green but his body stopped, he felt himself collapse to ground and began to recognize the pain blooming in his limbs and chest.

Everything felt fuzzy and numb until a hand rested on his shoulder.

He followed the hand up an arm to— B, Batman. His dad.

His vision was slipping and his head still pounded, he tried to tell Bruce that he was going to pass out but nothing was coming out of his mouth intelligibly.

Jason felt himself lose control of his body and lurch forward, Bruce’s arms came around him before he could hit the floor and the last thing Jason knew before he fully blacked out was that he was safe. His dad had him.

———————————

Just a little snippet/wip of something I’ve been working on! This is just the first little half of the first chapter!!

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [16]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 13,749

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, blood, gunshot wound, a little bit of gore, mentions of death, panic attacks, hurt/comfort

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Hey!! lmao so sorry for the super late update. I was sick and then some personal stuff happened and then I thought I got covid so yeah hi lol I'm so sorry lol This chapter was like 20k+ words so I split it into two because that was a lot lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Jason is stuck pacing back and forth in the room he’s calling a bedroom now. Worry has taken every part of him as his hand grips his phone like a vice. It’s been hours. He hasn’t heard from you or Dick or Gar. He hasn’t heard from anyone and he’s tried calling you seven times. But, your phone is off and your phone is never off. That is the one thing about you, your phone will never be off unless there is a reason for it and being hurt isn’t a good reason. Not to you. The only time your phone even dies is…never. Jason thinks about it and he doesn’t think you’ve let your phone even reach 20% in the entire time you’ve known each other. He thinks it’s probably so someone can always find you and you can always call for help because you’re almost paranoid about it dying. Your phone doesn’t die.

That leaves Jason thinking the worst of the worst. If your phone is off, that means it has to be dead or you shut it off for some reason but that’s uncharacteristic of you. So, he thinks maybe it did die and if it died, that’s because you didn’t charge it. If you didn’t charge your phone, it’s because you were physically incapable of charging it. What if something really bad happened? What if you were shot somewhere else? Jason knows Crane wanted you taken care of, maybe he shot you twice but you’re really good at hiding your pain when you need to. Adrenaline probably kicked in and shock, you were scared for Tim. Maybe you didn’t realize how bad it was. What if there was a complication of some sort and something bad happened?

Jason’s mouth starts to water as his eyes burn. His brows pinch together hard as his teeth grind so hard his jaw starts to ache. He was brought back. But, a part of him really hates that he was. Would you want to be brought back? If you died, would you want to be brought back like him? Jason comes to a stop, trying to steady his own breathing as his leg aches and burns. The scars on his chest feel like he’s being cut open again. What if you don’t want to be brought back but Jason did anyway? What if you did, and he does nothing?

What if you did die?

If you did die…Gar would call him, right?

Gar would definitely call, Jason assures himself. Gar would call immediately if something were happening. He has the number now and Jason’s ringer is on with the vibration set to strong. He has no missed calls but he’s certain Gar would call. If not, he would have called Molly and Molly would have found a way to call Jason. If you were dead, one of them would call him.

And then Jason swallows his own heartbeat as his phone starts ringing.

Gar.

“Hey.” Jason clears his throat, trying to keep himself together as he tries to prepare himself for the worst news he’ll ever get. 

“Is she there?” Gar asks and Jason can hear the worry etched in his voice.

“Uh…no?” Jason questions and he’s not sure if he should be relieved or panicked with Gar not knowing where you are. At least he’s not calling to tell Jason you’re dead but that does not rule out you bleeding out in a ditch somewhere. “I told her to go with you.”

Gar sighs on the end, running a hand through his hair. “She took off. I thought maybe she went to find you but she was hurt and she’s not answering her phone. Molly hasn’t heard from her either.”

Jason already figured you wouldn’t go to Molly. If you went to Molly, she would worry, give you a look you don’t like, and you’d run away again anyway. The last thing you’d want to do is drag Molly into it further. But, Jason really hoped you’d have listened for once and just went with Gar. Or at least sent a text to one of them to let them know you’re okay or not.

“She hasn’t been around.” Jason keeps his voice quiet and he looks around his room as if the answer is going to be written on the walls.

“Uh…hey, I know this…might not be what it’s for, but can you track her? She was shot and we’re all really worried.” Gar’s voice is hesitant as he scrunches his nose, hating the idea of having Jason do it. It feels like an invasion of privacy, especially Gar being the one to ask but it’s a last-ditch effort.

Of course, Jason’s been thinking about it. But, something in him can’t get himself to do it. On the small chance you did shut your phone off, that means you don’t want to be found. Jason can’t overstep, he can’t intrude on you. Even if he is desperately wanting to because you could be dead. He thought maybe he’d give you twenty more minutes and then he’d just do it anyway.

“Have you looked for her?” Jason asks, eying his tablet you left out.

“No, I called you first.” Gar admits. Honestly, Gar doesn’t even know where to look but he knew Jason would.

With no one out looking for you, maybe they don’t have to track you and possibly invade your privacy. If you’re just blowing off steam or punishing yourself, Jason knows exactly where you’ll be. He figures, if him, Gar, and Molly can’t find you within an hour, checking all of your spots, he’ll use the tracker.

“Okay, you and Molly go look for her at her usual spots. Molly’ll know ‘em and I’ll check a few others. If we don’t find her in an hour, I’ll track her.” Jason nods his head on the other end.

“Do you think we’ll actually find her? I mean you know how she is.” Gar isn’t trying to be pessimistic but it’s been hours and he thought for sure, you would be with Jason.

Jason can feel the panic attack starting to course through his blood. His heart is racing and his hands are growing clammy and he’s getting unreasonably angry. It is not Gar’s fault because even on a good day, getting you to listen is like pulling fucking teeth, especially when it has to do with taking care of yourself. Jason knows this better than anyone but he’s mad anyway and he knows it’s the panic attack. You were fucking shot and he took off so he’s mad at himself for listening. And he’s mad that you were shot and Gar didn’t stop you. He can turn into a fucking tiger for fuck’s sake, couldn’t he have turned into a tiger to stop you? Tackled you to the ground and pinned you there, dragged you to the manor kicking and screaming if that’s what he had to do. You were shot and maybe you’re dead now and he didn’t help. And Jason didn’t fucking help.

“Fuck! Gar, then you should have fucking followed her!” Jason snaps and immediately feels bad about it but any part of him that should apologize is washed over with guilt and regret and more anger. “Just go fucking look for her with Molly and I’ll look other places.” Jason grabs his coat from the bed and heads for the door.

“Where should we start?” Gar is quiet on the other end.

“The zoo.” Jason spits right back without even thinking. “Start there, then the harbor and I’ll–” Jason cuts himself off as he swings the door open, seeing you right in front of him with bloodshot eyes and blood-stained clothes and hands.

Gotham never sleeps. It never stalls. Everything is always moving, always loud. There is always something going on, people always going from one spot to the next in their lives. In some ways, it’s a little comforting. A reminder that you are here. You are here and alive like all of the people you passed on your walk here living their own lives. On the other hand, you wish it were quiet sometimes. You wish it were quiet sometimes because everything seems too much sometimes and your skin crawls while your heart feels like it’s going to beat out your chest. Your head spins and everything feels too much. But, it was quiet in the basement. It was quiet in the tower before you were attacked. It was quiet in the tunnels. It was quiet when you found Jason. It was quiet when Tim was shot. Maybe quiet is the surrounding air grieving for the mess fate’s created.

So, you stand in Jason’s doorway because quiet with him, alive and breathing, has always been the safest place to be. You stand weakly, haunted by everything that’s happened as the very idea of existing physically pains the deepest parts of your heart.

It’s hard to go through the same shit all the time. You’re just supposed to be fine with it. It’s happened before and you got over it, so you can get over it again, right? At some point, someone reaches the end of their rope and you think you might be there. It is the same pain over and over again and it never gets any easier. Time passes and it all just hurts anyway. People say time heals everything but you don’t think that’s true because you think about your mom dying and it’s like the wind’s been kicked from your chest all over again. You remember Jason’s body and it’s like you're being waterboarded. Time doesn’t heal anything. It’s not even like you’re used to it. You were just traumatized and avoid thinking about everything so it doesn’t fucking hurt so much. But, even that’s just exhausting. Existing is hard and tiring and painful.

Maybe you’re just tired of being in pain.

Your bottom lip starts to quiver and you always felt safest with him. Even from your own thoughts. You never felt too much pain around him. He always knows exactly what to do and it’s all too much right now. Being alone doesn’t work anymore. So, you stare up at him as Jason’s brows pull together with a cross between worry and relief.

“Jason?” Gar calls. “You there?” Gar asks.

“I got her.” Jason says. “She’s here. I’ll call you later.” Jason says quickly before hanging up. “Hey.” Jason’s voice is soft and careful, noticing you’re not making eye contact with him.

You walk the couple of feet up to him as Jason keeps his stance, almost ready to do whatever you’ll need. And all you do is lean forward and rest your forehead against his chest. Jason lets out a breath and you’re able to pull one in for the first time. Jason rests his hand on your back, rubbing up and down slowly as he hears you sniffle against him.

“Gar was calling in a search party. Where the fuck were you?” Jason asks and he should have some sort of bite in his voice but he’s too worried and too relieved.

You look back up to him and shake your head. “Walking. I couldn’t-I couldn’t…do it.” Your jaw squares as you try to hold back your own tears. “S-sorry..I-I didn’t mean to…to, uh, worry you guys. I-I just…just couldn’t.”

Jason nods with understanding, looking you over and it doesn’t look like you took care of the gunshot wound. Your clothes are soaked and your hair is an utter mess. There’s blood on your face and he swears your cheeks are stained with tears and you actually look cold.

Jason rests his hand on your cheek and you finally meet his eyes. “You alright?” Jason asks softly.

“Hurts.” You mutter and his hand almost feels like it’s burning your cheek. He’s so warm.

“The gunshot?” Jason questions, almost afraid of the answer.

“Everything.” You answer weakly with defeat.

You've never seen his look on him before. His jaw is squared but it’s soft rather than harsh like he’d been trying to shatter his own teeth. His brows are pinched but not completely pulled together and they’re aimed downward, etched in worry. His eyes are scanning you over every few seconds as if he’s stuck between thinking you aren’t really here and terrified something really bad is about to happen. Jason Todd worries and you've seen him worried plenty of times but this is different. You've seen him scared, too, plenty of times. More times than you can really count. But, this is different. It’s a different look and it’s because it’s you. And that look alone, chops and hacks at the barrier holding you together until it finally crumbles at your feet.

“It’s all my fault, Jay.” You sputter as you feel your eyes starting to water again. “It’s all my fault and I really fucked up and Tim could die or he did die. I don’t even know cause I left and I’m a fucking coward for leaving and it’s all my fucking fault.” Your mouth waters and you can’t look at his eyes because it’s all too much. “And there was so much…blood again. And the last time…it was you and it was horrible and I lost you and I couldn’t do it again and it just hurts all the time.” You suck in a shaky breath. “And-and Gar would say it’s not my fault and he’d give me the look but it is my fault. And Dick would be mad at me and I deserve it but I can’t hear it right now because I don’t know if I can handle it. And….it’s just-it’s just my fault. And I don’t know if could save him but I tried and I tried to save you, too.” You sputter before a sob finally rips through your throat. It bounces against the walls in a strangled and broken wail as if the very life you've lived has finally taken its toll on you for the last time. Jason isn’t sure he can listen to it because it physically pains him to see and hear you like this.

“Y/n.” Jason tries to get out but you shake your head.

“I tried really fucking hard to save you and it didn’t work. And I had to call Bruce and beg him to help me and he couldn’t and it was so fucking horrible and painful and scary.” You try to suck in a breath as tears scatter down your face. Everything is just wet and ugly, and burning. “It was so bad and I was so alone.” You suck in a ragged breath, your voice cracking and breaking between sobs. “Because Molly didn’t know and fuck Bruce and Gar wasn’t here. I was so alone and it was so scary because there was so much blood and brain matter.” Jason almost winces hearing it. “I don’t know if I would have been able to recognize you if you didn’t have the fucking Robin suit. It was so fucking bad and it hurts to think about and believe it happened but you’re here. And then Tim gets shot and there’s so much blood and I had to ask Dick to help and it’s like I’m there with your body again and it’s scary and it’s painful and I hate it. I hate how much it hurts. I hate doing this. I hate that it keeps happening.” Your chest heaves as you look at Jason with tears soaking your cheeks and your eyes finally meet his. And all Jason can see is defeat. “What if it just keeps happening?”

Jason shakes his head and every single time he is reminded you were the one that found him, he sends himself into a guilt-ridden spiral. Of course, you found him. That isn’t the issue. The issue is what it looked like from your perspective and the devastation it caused. He knows. He knows what it is like to find someone you love dead. He knows and it’s horrible and painful and devastating. It makes someone feel completely hopeless and helpless and useless. There has never been a time where he felt more helpless. And then he put you in that same position, not on purpose. But, he did and it was worse because it was gorey and traumatizing and he left you. He didn’t realize how badly it had traumatized you. It traumatized him, too but it affects you.

Dying doesn’t just happen to the person that’s dead. It happens to everyone around them.

“I’m so sorry.” Jason says softly, sliding his hand off your cheek. He shakes his head, biting his own tongue because he almost wants to cry with you. “I’m fucking sorry.” Jason wraps his arm around your shoulders as he pulls you into him. He’s careful not to hug you too tight, minding the gunshot wound he knows he’ll be taking care of for you later. “You’re not coward.” Jason manages to get out as he tries to come up with an answer for you even though he doesn’t think he’ll ever have one. The reality is that it will keep happening.

“Yeah, I am.” You argue back before you look up at him. “What fucking person just leaves as their friend is bleeding on the ground?”

“Someone who’s fucking traumatized.” Jason bites back. “Someone who was also fucking shot and in shock. You tried to help him and me knowing the shit you’d get for it. You fucking knew I went after the Joker and you show up alone, ready to take him on by your fucking self if you had to. You think that makes you a coward? What’s that make me then, huh?” Jason questions back, knowing you’ll never think of him as a coward, even if he sees that in himself sometimes.

“Not a coward but that’s different.” You argue.

“Fucking how?” Jason spits back. “You left Tim with Dick and the rest of the Titans who would know what to do. You were also fucking shot.” Jason shakes his head.

Jason wonders if this is what it's like dealing with him sometimes. Going round and round, circling the drain into a self-destructive spiral that only seems to have one result. It's not that he minds, it's that you think this. You're anything but a coward and Jason can't even figure out how you could think otherwise. You always do what you think is best for yourself and for the people you care about. Always. And you fight tooth and nail, as hard and as fast as you possibly can for what you believe. That's not cowardly.

“I-I know but…” You sniffle as you shake your head. “H-how can I keep doing this? I mean…losing people and the blood and….how can I do this for other people when I can’t even save the people I love?” You ask bluntly. “That’s shit, you know? We’re supposed to be out helping people and…and I can’t even…I fail with the people that matter. So, what’s the point?”

Jason would be lying if he doesn't question what the point is half the time, especially over the last few days. What's the point of living if this is even how it plays out? Pain and chaos, destruction and lonelienss. It's all pretty miserable, actually. But, he holds on anyway because it wasn't always like this.

Shit gets bad and then it gets better and yeah, it is exhausting sometimes. But, it's always gotten better. Jason doesn't know how much better it'll get from here now but he won't tell you that. He just knows he wakes up and he tries because you were nearly beaten an inch from your life and you find so much joy and love in small things that that alone seems to give Jason some sort of hope. And because Gar's family was killed and Gar was experimented on and he is the most optimistic person he has ever met. And because Molly lived on the streets with the death of her parents and Molly is the nicest person Jason has ever met. If all of these people can just be better after everything, than he can't very well just give up. And you can't either. Maybe there isn't a point but you'll never know if you give up.

“You know what you told me? You are the one that said sometimes we fail, that’s part of the job. But, we try.” Jason licks his lips as he sucks in a breath. “You talked me off the roof. Maybe Deathstroke would have tried to kill me or done worse shit if it weren’t for you. Fucking Pete Hawkins bullshit. The kid at Jerry’s. You were the one that fought tooth and fucking nail to save Gar. And you did, by the way. You saved Tim at Excellent Gotham. You failed two fucking times but by my count, you win more often.”

“Three times.” You correct him, earning you a glare. “Gar got kidnapped, we failed then…too.”

“You were both tranquilized and they used kryptonite on Krypto. I don’t think that counts.” Jason nods his head.

“I guess.” You let out a breath, looking to your shoes. “I just, uh,” You sniffle as you shake your head, looking back to him. “I just want the pain to stop.” Your voice cracks again.

Jason doesn’t say it, but he does, too. So, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him.

You press your cheek to his chest, wrapping your arms around him as your breathing is still rapid and ragged. But, you can hear his heartbeat in between breaths. It’s fast but steady. A lot quicker than it usually is but it is there. A few more tears leak out as you count his heartbeat and are fully engulfed by his warmth. You hadn’t realized just how numb you had gotten from the cold until now. Your fingers and toes are starting to feel like painful pins and needles. Your arms are burning and your cheek sting from the salty tears. It’s as if you're thawing from his warmth. Between that and his steady heartbeat, you calm yourself down.

“I can try to help.” Jason whispers softly. “If you’ll have me.” Jason pulls away just enough to look down at you and your eyes meet his.

You told him before that you’d come for everything that ever hurt him if it came to it. Anyone that ever wanted to hurt him, would have to go through you. Because he was just Jason Todd to you. It didn’t matter that he could -- should have been able to -- take care of himself. And Jason knew that’s how it was for him, too. Anyone who wants to hurt you, has to go through him. But, the problem is that someone did hurt you…because of him. And he hurt you. Right now you're in pain and it’s because of him. It’s not right and it’s not fair to you but Jason wants to protect you. He’d cut out pieces of his heart and glue them to yours if it would make you feel better. He would do anything in this world if it would make your pain less. Any form of pain that wants to come for you, is going to have to go through him first. From now on.

You nod your head. “Always.” You croak out.

“Come on.” Jason releases his arms and cold rushes itself right back over your body. “Sit on the bed, I’ll grab you some clothes and supplies to clean that shit. We’ll start there.”

“Thanks, Jay.” You mutter softly, walking to the bed and Jason watches you carefully.

He wonders if this is how it always felt for you. He’d come home bloody and bruised, weak and pitiful. Scared and in pain. He never said anything but Jason knows you always knew. Somehow, you always knew when he was hurt and scared. But, it was always him walking through the door hurt, not you. And it was you that would stitch him up. Sure, he’s helped you with your hands, but you did it at least twice a week for months. And you never complained. But, Jason wonders if this is what it feels like.

It feels like he’s carrying the weight of the world for the both of you and he’s trapped in a worrying spin. And he is so fucking sad for you. It’s not pity, but just sadness. It’s wanting the best for you and you to have everything good in this world because you deserve it. And wanting to witness it because he loves you. It’s just wanting to see you smile and happy, making some stupid joke and telling him to fuck off. It’s just wanting you to not be in pain anymore. He wonders if this is how it felt being you and if so, he wants to know so badly how the fuck you dealt with it because he feels like he’s suffocating while he grabs you clothes.

Jason walks back over to you, handing you a pair of sweatpants and a red hoodie. “I got first aid shit in the bathroom so change and I’ll be back.” Jason nods his head at you.

“Okay.” You answer weakly and Jason hesitates for a few seconds before he practically runs off to the bathroom.

You're weak and unsteady as you change into the sweats. You're realizing you haven’t eaten in a while and you haven’t had much to drink either. That’s definitely not helping your mental state and you know it. But, if you were being really honest, none of those activities sound like things you're currently capable of doing. Changing is even almost too much effort at this point. And it fucking hurts as you try to take your shirt off to swap it for the hoodie.

“Need help?” Jason appears right back not two minutes later.

You always hated feeling helpless but not around him. “Yeah, it hurts.” You sniffle softly, sitting pitifully on the bed.

Jason walks over, resting the kit beside you before he lightly grabs the hem of your hoodie. Jason helps you tug it off of your bad shoulder and then over your head, you groaning the entire time. With the hoodie off, you're left in a blue t-shirt and Jason sees where the bullet hole is, covered in red and brown. With the chaos of last night, he didn’t check and wasn’t able to check if the wound was a through and through. Jason's stomach twists at the thought that it's not. But, he hides his worry, looking back to you with a soft sigh.

“How did you wanna do this?” Jason asks bluntly.

Your brows furrow in confusion. “I-I don’t know?” You shake your head.

“I can’t clean it with your shirt on.” Jason sucks in a breath and normally he’d have some comment about seeing you half naked again but he can’t quite muster it this time.

“Oh…” You whisper and you swear it’s fine. It’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked before and it’s not like you didn’t see Jason fully exposed just the other night. There is something that just feels…new and vulnerable again. “That’s fine.” You nod and Jason leans forward again, tugging the hem of your shirt up and over your head, freeing your arm. You grab Jason's hoodie with your good arm and Jason helps tug it onto your good arm, you thankful it's a zip-up and not a pullover. “Guess that’ll do.” You suck in a breath and you're kind of tired of feeling like this. “I expect you to actually help and not just stare at my tits the whole time.”

Jason manages a cheeky smirk. “You know I’m ass guy anyway.” Jason glances down and then back to you.

“Shithead.” You mutter and Jason’s head swims. It’s been so long since you've called him that and it almost feels nostalgic.

“Babe.” Jason quips back.

Jason takes out his phone, examining the gunshot now that there isn’t anything in the way. There’s still blood everywhere and he can’t even tell if it’s because you did such a shit job at cleaning it or if the wound is actually that bad. Something in his stomach twists and turns into a gnawing pain at the thought this is worse than he originally thought. But, he keeps a straight face, not to let his worry cross even a single line of his face. When he worries, you worry.

Jason grabs a wet rag from the bowl he brought in with him, gently cleaning around the area to try to get a better look. You let out a shaking breath, the water cool against your skin.

“Sorry, no hot water.” Jason barely glances to you as he scrubs some of the dry blood away.

“Should probably fix that.”

“Pilot lights are expensive.”

“I have Bruce’s credit card.” You mutter quietly, earning a look from Jason.

He stops, looking up at you fully. “You would.”

“Eat the rich.” You shrug. “Or take their money when it’s offered to you and he didn’t ask for it back.” Jason lets out a snicker before he goes back to cleaning. “You should use yours. It might send up a red flag for Bruce and maybe he’ll call someone back or come back.”

You hate the words as they leave your lips because wanting Bruce back means admitting defeat. But, Gotham has gone to absolute shit since Bruce decided to fuck off somewhere. At least Gotham had some degree of fear and respect for the Bat. They don't seem to like the Titans very much. And Jason's been off his rocker and you've been stuck trying to help him. Gotham does need someone they respect. Bruce should definitely come back. And if for no other reason, to see his son is alive again.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, fucking right.” He shakes his head in annoyance. “Fuck Bruce. I don’t need him.”

Before he died, he was getting better about talking about his problems and the things that kept him up at night. He was doing better with it but then he comes back and the very idea of talking about it makes him want to crash through a window headfirst onto solid pavement. In all fairness, he already hated talking about Bruce. It was one thing to complain about him but it was an entirely other thing to unravel and dig into actually talking about him. Now, though, it’s worse because every time Jason thinks about Bruce, it’s as if his heart starts to break all over again.

Maybe him getting bludgeoned death was his fault. He knew better. But, where was Bruce? Bruce gave up on him. And then…was going to let the Joker just…live. Jason was supposed to be Bruce’s son and he couldn’t even kill the Joker for him or do anything about him. And maybe, just maybe, Jason could get over that eventually but Jason’s alive again and Bruce is nowhere to be found. With everything going on in Gotham, Jason is certain Dick would have called Bruce and let him know. If for no other reason than to rat Jason out to “dad”. So, maybe Jason feels like he was always a little expendable to Bruce, not just Crane or the Titans. And that part hurts the most.

“Didn’t say you did?” You let out a breath. “Just saying is all.” You pull in a deep breath. “Fuck Bruce, yeah. Just saying.” You, for one, still hate Bruce but Jason hating Bruce seems weird. You chalked it up to the drug at first and Crane but…Jason’s clean. It’s weird, even for Jason. “What’s your sudden issue with Bruce anyway?”

“You got a problem with me having a problem with Bruce all of a sudden?” Jason spits back and he shouldn’t, given your current state but his heartache over being abandoned by him is fresh.

“Oh, no. I am actually fine with that cause fuck Bruce but it’s weird. After all of that shit, you come back and suddenly don’t like him. That’s weird, Jay. Even for you.”

“Never fucking mattered to him. I was always just the replacement for Dick anyway. Doesn’t fucking matter.” Jason dips the rag into the water, rinsing some of the blood off before going back to the wound.

You furrow your brows, trying to figure out where that’s even coming from. “Uh…not true? Bruce is a fucking weirdo and shit but I actually think he gives a shit about you, Jay. Outside of Robin and Dick. You always said that, too. Like deep down you knew that, so what is it now?”

Jason grows more and more angered but he knows you aren’t going to drop it. “You were fucking right, alright?” Jason snaps back. “Should have killed the fucking Joker because he killed me. So fuck him.” Jason keeps his explanation short.

“Right yeah, had he just killed him, you wouldn’t have died and it doesn’t make up for it because too little, too late shit, but like…he did—“

“Can you fucking drop it, please?” Jason’s words come out more as a demand rather than a request. “I’m done fucking talking about it.” Jason looks at your shoulder from your back, seeing there’s no hole in the fabric.

“Sorry.” You say softly. It just doesn’t sit right with you. You’d still be pissed at Bruce, too because had he killed the Joker in the first place that wouldn’t have happened but that’s…not really Jason. He doesn’t hold many grudges and Bruce did kill the Joker. It was a little late for that but he did, to avenge Jason. Bruce didn’t throw his morals away for Dick, he threw them away for Jason and that would normally mean something to him. It’s weird but you know when to push and when not to. You're not in the mood to fight it anyway. “Just thought it was weird, is all.”

“It’s fine. Sorry.” Jason squints at the wound, seeing something shine back at him and his heart plummets. He grabs his phone, shining a light into the wound again. “The bullet is still inside.”

“Figured.” You let out a breath.

“I have to take it out.”

Your eyes land on his and you know this is about to suck. “Okay.” You nod your head.

“Lay back and hold the phone so I can see.” Jason hands you his phone as you do as told.

Jason grabs a pair of tweezers from the kit and he looks at the wound, grabbing your wrist to make sure the light is in the right position. Jason’s stomach twists into a hard knot, knowing how bad this is going to hurt. His leg starts to throb with the very thought of putting you through it. But, it has to be done. You're not going to go to an actual doctor for help and if he leaves the bullet in, it can lead to infection. So, Jason sucks in a deep breath and bends down hovering over the wound, careful not to block the light.

“It’s gonna hurt.” Jason glances up at you.

“Just do it.” You sigh, looking to the ceiling as your grip on his phone tightens.

Jason nods his head before gently sticking the tweezers into the wound. You slam your eyes shut as your jaw clenches. Your right hand grips onto the blanket beneath you as Jason moves the tweezers around. It’s burning and stinging like getting stung by a thousand hornets at once. It’s as if you're being shot in the spot over and over again as tears well behind your eyes. Jason is trying to be careful and quick, but the bullet is slippery thanks to the blood.

Your hand starts to shake as your breath grows rapid and uneven. You try your best to concentrate on anything besides the pain but that’s becoming increasingly more difficult. It was different when you were in the fight for your life. It was do or die and people can do absolutely insane things they should not have been able to accomplish in life or death situations. Your life isn’t in danger right now and even when you try to focus on something else, the tweezers move just enough and you're brought back to agonizing pain.

Given the events that happened, it’s hard for you to focus on anything other than the pain you're been in. You try to think of the good times but then those are tarnished like rusted silverware. Those good memories now come with pain, too. You try to focus on what you’re going to do about Crane because maybe that would kick in your fighting instincts but you're the one lying in a bed right now after being shot by him. Everything around you feels like it’s rusting and chipping away into a toxic pile of reds and browns. Tainted, tarnished, and broken.

Jason glances up to you and he can see the agony written in every wrinkle and pinch of your skin. And he can’t see with the phone basically vibrating in your hand. All he can even feel is anger and not at you. It’s entirely on him and Crane because at the end of the day, it’s his fault and Crane’s how you ended up here. You never should have been shot. You were only there to look out for him. You and Tim were collateral damage. So many people around Jason end up just being collateral damage. And they don’t deserve it. But, at the end of the day, he isn’t the one that pulled the trigger at you and all he wants to do is go right after Crane. Make him feel the same pain he’s put you through. And then worse.

“Y/n.” Jason says, sternly. “You have to stop moving. I can’t see.”

You swallow thickly, trying to stabilize your hand. “Sorry.” You manage to mutter through your gritted teeth.

Jason goes back to the wound but the second he sticks the tweezers into the flesh, you wince and flinch as hard you try to stay still. Jason is no stranger to this and he knows it is agonizing to pick something out of an open wound. Nerves and flesh are exposed that should not be. It’s horrendous and seconds feel like hours. And it’s triggering phantom pain in his leg as his heart feels like it’s being suffocated with barbed wire. He knows it’s bad when you're the one who can’t sit still.

Jason pulls back, putting the tweezers back in the kit before he cups your cheeks. He bends down so his face is just an inch from yours and you open your eyes slowly, your jaw still clenched and tears threatening to finally fall.

“You gotta stay still or I’m never gonna be able to get it out.” Jason’s voice is stern.

“It fucking hurts.” Your voice cracks weakly as you sniffle.

“You were almost beaten to death. This isn’t gonna fucking kill you. You’ll be fine.” Jason nods his head once at you before he presses his forehead to yours for just a second.

You nod weakly at him. “Yeah…”

“Just…stay still and I’ll be quick, alright?” Jason asks, seeing the doubt across your face. “I got you.” Jason offers a weak smile.

“Okay.” You nod your head in agreement.

Jason nods once more before he goes back to your wound. He focuses on the bullet while the tweezers hover above you and you can’t help but notice the lack of shaking in his hands. Come to think of it, you aren’t sure the last time you saw his hand so steady. Jason has always been so steady around you. An unmovable force.

Jason looks back to you, raising his brows as if silently asking if you if you're ready and all you do is nod quickly before looking back to the ceiling. Your grip tightens on the phone while you lock in place with all of your might just to try to stay steady.

The tweezers stick back into the bloody wound, carefully and steadily as they go right to the bullet. Jason keeps his eyes laser-focused on just getting the bullet out and you grit your teeth together as tears come to your eyes. But, you suck in a deep breath as you feel the metal scraping around the wound, clinging onto every part your self-control in order to stay steady. That’s when Jason finally is able to grab the bullet, pulling it out in a steady motion, careful not to drop it.

Jason holds the bullet with the tweezers as a triumphant grin comes to his lips. You peek your eyes open at him, the whites turning a bright shade of pale pink.

“Told you I got you.” Jason shrugs casually but the grin quirks into a cheeky smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah thanks.” You roll your eyes as you sniffle.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, that shit was just, uh painful. I really don’t recommend getting shot.” You lay the phone down beside you before rubbing your right eye.

“Yeah, don’t plan on it.” Jason quips back. “Probably stop hurting soon without the bullet.”

“Be nice.” You let out a sigh. “And Dick really just went to bed like this. What a fucking psycho.”

"Yeah, but you went MIA." Jason narrows his eyes at you because maybe he is a little mad at you for it. They were all worried. He was worried. "You bitch about him but--"

“If you fucking say it, Jason Todd, I’ll kill you again.” You deadpan. “You two are the ones that are oddly similar, okay?”

Jason lets out a scoff. “Bullshit. I’m nothing like him.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, you are. You’re different but you’re similar. You just don’t wanna see it. What? You never looked up to him before all of this shit?” You ask.

Jason sits back on his heels, dropping the bullet in the first aid kit with the tweezers to toss and clean later. “What’s to look up to?” Jason scoffs. “Being a fucking kiss ass and a goody two-shoes.”

“Because he was the first Robin.” You state casually. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, about you replacing him and shit whatever. But, didn’t you ever look up to him for even a little bit?”

Jason hangs his head and while he’s always felt less than and a bit like a failure when it came to filling his shoes, he definitely did look up to him. Dick created something so special and surreal when it came to Robin. He wasn’t Batman, he was just a kid in a suit helping Batman and that was cool. Then Bruce had all of these stories about Dick and it always made Jason want to be like him because Dick was good. That’s how Bruce always talked anyway. Jason doesn’t know that Bruce always talked about Jason in the same way when he wasn’t around. And Dick doesn’t know how Bruce would talk about him to everyone else. But Jason heard the stories and how great Dick was. He never wanted to be exactly like him but he definitely wanted to be somewhat like him. Dick’s parents were killed and he got to be Robin. By all that Jason heard, it seemed he made it out of it okay. He had Robin and he got to carry that with him. He got to have a career in helping people (kind of). Jason did want to be like him but the way he sees it, there’s a reason people say not to meet your heroes.

“Still mad about the Joker shit but…uh,” You sniffle again. “Don’t know, be a lie if I said I didn’t look up to him…and you.”

“Me?”

“I always liked your Robin.” You say quietly. “You were different. Felt like we needed your version. But I told you that.”

“Surprised you still think it.”

“I think we need someone like Red Hood.” You state, catching Jason entirely off guard.

“What? Another fucking murderer?” Jason scoffs, looking to the window above the bed before he looks back to you.

He feels so ashamed of it all at times, like right now. It's because you're the one lying here after being shot by someone Jason thought he could trust. He knows deep down, crime in Gotham needs a change. The Bat doesn't fix everything, clearly. There needs to be someone out there that is willing to do more but Jason isn't sure that's him. He already burned his bridges. He doused them in gasoline and lit a match with a smile. He feels like he's on the wrong side and there's nothing he can do to rebuild that bridge to be on the right side anymore. If there's even a right side.

“No. Someone who’s willing to do the heavy and bad shit in order to prevent worse shit from happening. Like I said, I’m not just killing people for you, it’s for all of us and everyone that will come after us. I think we need people like that and people are afraid of you and rightfully so. I dunno. Just my take, I guess.”

“Been thinking about the people I killed.” Jason lets out a breath. “Heavy shit.”

“Yeah, but a lot of that is greater good shit and the other stuff is Crane’s manipulation so you shouldn’t feel too guilty for those.” You shrug your good shoulder.

Jason shakes his head and he doesn't how you deal with any of it. You don't normally deal with much, if Jason is being honest. But, you seem to be dealing with this pretty okay. Somewhere in him, he always felt like if someone were going to go on a killing spree, you would probably be that person. Your morals have never aligned with Dick's or Bruce's. You've always felt like more could be done, permanently. But, Jason's surprised you seem so okay with it and with him killing people.

“How the fuck are you dealing with it?”

You let out a broken laugh. “I’m not.” You answer honestly. “So much shit is happening that I just…can’t.” You shake your head. “Can’t think about it.”

Jaso nods with understanding. “Yeah.” Jason sucks in a breath, deciding to drop the conversation. It feels too much again. Too loud. Too heavy. “Stay still.” Jason leans forward, grabbing the rag before he starts cleaning her wound again.

You watch him carefully. He’s not handling anything well which you can’t say you really blame him for. You wonder what you would be doing if you were in his position. How would you ever forgive yourself for not only everything that’s happened but also being manipulated? Being manipulated isn’t Jason’s fault but you know he’s probably blaming himself for it because you would be blaming yourself for it if it were you. You wonder how he feels about coming back. You haven’t really talked about it and part of that is you're just afraid to ask because talking about him dying nearly sends you into a spiraling panic attack. But, you wonder how he’s dealing with that and if he’s happy he’s back.

Jason’s hands are steady as he grabs the gauze, his brows pinched together with concentration as he goes back to the wound and you find yourself wondering if you were meant to be anyway. Everything seemed so much easier in San Francisco. You weren’t together then and it was all just fun and games. Sure, you both were kidnapped and that was bad. But, that was one thing. Meanwhile, being together in Gotham has been a shitshow since the start almost. Maybe it’s just the butterfly effect but you wonder if it was just you both trying to find solace in each other or if it was as real as it’s always felt. Maybe you were just feeding off of each other’s own self-destruction and avoidance. Maybe being together helped the other one crumble.

Your eyes scan over his face and you realize, you don’t remember the last time you saw his face bruised. But, while you were together, he was always littered in them and almost always had one somewhere on his face like a Jackson Pollock. That solidifies the thought of you. Maybe you weren’t meant to be after all. Maybe you were actually bad for each other. Maybe you being together really was just you both self-destructing, knowing damn well one of you would die and it would destroy you. Maybe being together was always a way to hurt yourselves in the worst way.

And that hurts worse than the gunshot.

You've always been so sure about him. Even when you weren't sure, a part of you was. It was always supposed to be him. Him and you. But, you were shot and you're thinking a lot about how people's lives might be better if you weren't in them anymore. You're thinking about how things might be better for Jason if you weren't together. You skew your own reality, convincing yourself you got together in order to hurt yourselves. That's all it could possibly be. You ignore every thought about you confessing how loving him is the easiest thing you'd ever done. You push every thought of every soft moment you have ever had into the darkest part of your mind where they can be tainted and painted over. You push away everything Jason has ever told you and goes against everything Jason has ever believed about himself and what he deserves. It all feels like lies to yourself. It was just self-destruction because that has to be it, right?

You go back and forth with yourself. One part of you thinking this must be fact and the other part of you thinking it's just because it's a bad day. Everything feels worse on bad days and it is so easy to push everything good into a dark corner and paint right over it as if it were something different entirely. And today is a bad day. So, a part of you screams and begs for you to just ask Jason because Jason wouldn't lie. If it was all just self-destruction, Jason would tell you. He wouldn't lie about it.

“Do you think we were just a consequence of our own self-destruction?” You ask quietly, moving your eyes to the ceiling. "Or...was it like....real?"

Jason hears the question and pauses. He almost questions if he heard you correctly but he glances back to you and you're avoiding his stare which means he definitely did. His heart sinks and he thinks he forgot how to breathe for a second. Do you actually think that? Jason isn’t sure what would hurt more at this point. You thinking that’s all you were to him or that being all you were to you.

“What?” Jason asks, more for clarity.

“I mean like…exactly, uh, what I said. Do, uh, d-do you think we were just a consequence of our own self-destruction?” You chew the inside of your cheek and you regret asking. “Or…was it all real?”

The question hangs in the air like the blade of a guillotine, just waiting for one of you to pull the rope and end it all. The air starts to feel stale and cold and heavy as Jason doesn’t move, processing the question.

He’s not entirely sure where that question is even coming from. This whole time, you've wanted nothing more than him and you've said that. You have told him that he is all you have ever wanted. Why would you just be a consequence? Was he just a consequence?

Jason sits all the way up, coming into view. “Do you think that?” Jason asks bluntly as his breath hangs in the stagnant air. It’s as if he is clawing at the last remaining parts of his voice to remain steady and not shatter and break.

You look back to him, following the hollowed lines of worry of his face. You aren’t sure he’s breathing and you regret asking the question. You don’t even know why you asked in the first place. It’s not like you actually want to know because sometimes not knowing is just better, less painful. And the look on his face isn’t making you feel any better because he looks torn between devasted and angry.

“I asked you first.” You say quietly.

“No.” Jason states bluntly, almost harshly.

Being with you was never him self-destructing. In Jason’s eyes, as much as it all got fucked up in the end, being with you healed more parts of him than he ever thought possible. Being with you actually healed parts of him he swore would never be put together no matter how hard he tried. You made him better. He got to be who he wanted to be with you and shamelessly, you fully accepted him. And he really thought, he could be that version of himself forever because you always convinced him he could. You made him want to put in a hard effort into coming home and thinking twice before doing something a little too reckless, outside of the whole Crane and Joker thing. You showed him what it was like to be loved without conditions. And Jason loves you still. No conditions. No consequence. No self-destruction. He loves you yesterday, today, and he is positive he’ll love you tomorrow and every day after that because he wants to.

“Do you?” Jason asks, choosing not to elaborate.

You swallow a lump in your throat. Despite your own negative thoughts, you know you don't. Not really. Maybe you thinking it is a self-destruction thing, maybe it's your way of trying in order to punish yourself for Tim and everything else. But, no. Of course, not.

“No.” Your voice is quiet and fragile, making Jason’s heart sink because he knows there’s a but coming. “But, uh..we just…we ended up here.” You let out a scoff. “And, uh, I don’t know.” You shake your head. “We said some pretty fucked up shit to each other and I know…uh, I know you were high but, uh…yeah.”

Devasted. That’s all Jason can feel because he’s one of the reasons you even asked. He knows he said some horrible shit to you and he can’t take any of it back. Words are long-lasting. They enter the air and stick to it, absorbing itself into your lungs as you pull in a breath and let it fester there. That’s where the words start and travel to your brain where they store away, pecking at you just at the right moments. No one can take words back and Jason knows that. But, he has to try anyway even if he doesn't think it’ll salvage you. You have to know you meant and mean the entire world to him still.

“I didn’t mean any of that shit, okay? I swear, I didn’t fucking mean it.” Jason states quickly. “I was fucking high and I just wanted to fucking hurt you which is fucked up and I’m fucking sorry.” Jason spits out quickly but with a fire. There is no relief coming to your face and even if you are nothing to each other after this is over, he needs you to believe him. Jason cups your face. “I fucking swear. We weren’t a fucking mistake and you were the best thing that happened to me and I fucked that up. That’s on me. You made me better. I’m fucking so sorry, alright?”

You nod against his hand. And you know. You were also high and none of the shit you said is true. You didn't mean any of it. You didn't even mean the shit you said while you were sober. Maybe it's just a part of you that needs it to be verified today.

“I know and I’m sorry, too. I don’t know. I just get thinking about it, I guess. We both ended up here and it’s just…” You suck in a breath. “I know.” You place your hands over his. “Because I said some horrible shit, too, and then I hit you. And uh…I know. It’s just…that on top of everything else that happened. Like…” You shrug softly. “You died, Jason.”

Jason drops his hands, shaking his head, putting the pieces together. There is no way in hell you really think him going off on his own is your fault. Every piece of that shit plan, was on Jason. It was on him to just wait and get help. It was on him to reach out and get help. It was on him not to trust Crane. Everything was on him. That's not for you to carry.

“You don’t really think that shit is on you, right?”

“I should have seen it.” You sputter. “I should have fucking known, Jay. And the more I think about it, the more I think maybe I did know and maybe I just…let it happen to teach you a lesson about being dumb out there and—“

“Stop.” Jason cuts you off sharply. “You would never let me go after the fucking Joker by myself. You never would have even if you wanted to teach me some lesson. And I don’t think that’s it either. You do the same shit I do.” Jason scoffs. “I went after him. By myself. I do what I always did. I went after him. Alone, And I died alone. Because I never fucking ask for help. That’s not on you. And it’s got nothing to fucking do with us.”

“Yeah, but if you were me?” You question. “You’d be thinking the same thing. There were so many signs and I just…somehow missed every single one of them. I have to think I ignored them and maybe not to teach you a lesson but because I was scared.”

Jason sucks in a breath and he knows you're right because if it were him, he’d never forgive himself. If the roles were reversed, he’d also be questioning how he missed it and maybe he let you do it. Maybe he ignored the signs on purpose. Jason, being on the side he is, knows for a fact you didn’t willfully ignore any sign. You have shown him time and time again that if you have any say in it, you’d never let something happen to him. But, Jason understands why you think that so he sucks in a breath and decides to take some of that Gar advice for once.

“I remember what I was thinking about while the Joker was playing whack-a-mole with my head.” Jason mutters, earning him a grimace and a glare from you.

“Really?” You give him a displeased look.

Jason shrugs. “Well…” Jason sucks in a breath with the quick raise of his brows.

“You do though?” You ask cautiously.

Jason nods. “Yeah, I…I remember everything.” Jason swallows the growing lump in his throat. “Told you that, but…yeah.” Jason nods quickly. “Remember thinking I should have just listened to you. I should have told you because you would have talked me out of it, you would have told Bruce and Dick. I’d be pissed…but you would have helped and I wouldn’t be getting killed. So…just fucking saying,” Jason sucks in a breath and goes back to your wound. “Me dying had nothing to fucking do with you and there was nothing you could have done differently. We weren’t a consequence our own self-destruction. I’m really fucking sorry for all of the shit I’ve put you through.”

Your brows furrow and your heart starts to break again. It must be a horrible task to wake up every single day with memories, even down to final thoughts, about literally dying. You know it’s your own personal hell at this point but the idea of Jason reliving it every single day…it’s worse. And the fact he brought it up without you asking, you know.

“I forgive you, Jay.” You say quietly. “And I really, really, mean that, okay? Your, uh…your last thoughts…were regret?” You ask cautiously.

Jason shakes his head. “No.” Jason answers plainly. “Not all of them.” Jason lets out a breath. The last thing Jason wants is to talk about how the last thing he remembers is knowing he was going to die. You don't need to know that, that's for damn sure.“I-I don’t want to talk about it though. I really just needed you to know that.”

“Thank you, Jay." You watch him carefully, seeing something distant and broken cloud over his eyes. His brows pull together as if he's in pain and his hand starts to shake. You hope he'll talk about it one day. Maybe being brought back isn't all it's cracked up to be. "When you do want to talk, please talk t me.”

“I will.” Jason nods his head at you once before finishing up the wound.

“Maybe we were both just ticking time bombs to get here.” You suck in a breath. “I don’t think we were a consequence and it was real for me. I just…had to ask I guess.”

“Maybe we kept each other from getting here.” Jason nearly mutters the words under his breath before he goes back to fixing up your wound.

You let the silence fill the room as you think about it because maybe he’s right. It wasn’t until he died the two of you fell off the deep end. Sure, things weren’t great for you both mentally but maybe you together helped stabilize some part of you both. Maybe being together was the glue you both needed like a kintsugi sculpture. Putting broken pieces back together to be better than they were before. You both ended up here but maybe that’s better.

In the last two weeks, the two of you have learned more about each other and life and the consequences of everything. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be. So, you both could be better people today. Maybe you both rely too much on each other to help you mend your broken pieces but that doesn’t mean you were bad together or you were the cause of this. That doesn’t mean who you both are today is worse. Maybe who you both are today is better because it’s honest.

You both are scared but you both are honest and you aren’t letting your fears control every aspect of everything you do. You’re both standing up for yourselves in ways you didn’t think you would. Jason is figuring out his shit now and standing where he should. Where he wants. He’s standing up against people who made him feel worthless, something he otherwise never did too much. Maybe this is who you both are meant to be in the end and maybe that’s not so bad.

“Done.” Jason backs away as you look down, seeing your shoulder bandaged. “Don’t get shot again.” Jason manages the tint of a smirk.

“Gee, I wonder why I didn’t think of that.” You mock him before you sit up and slide the hoodie on entirely.

“Yeah, you really fucking should have. I mean, get it together, babe.” Jason offers a little bit of snark, the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Okay, fuck you.” You laugh softly. “Thank you.”

Jason nods his head. “Anytime.” Jason smiles softly at you.

You pull out your phone from your other hoodie and hand it to Jason. "It died and in the chaos, I dropped my charging block." You offer a guilty smile as Jason takes your phone and plugs it into his charger. “So, uh, what’re you gonna do about Crane? Like….fuck.” You roll your eyes.

“Kill him.” Jason spits.

“No.” You shake your head. “I was serious. I wanna kill him.”

“Seriously?” Jason quips.

“Yes. I’m sick of people making you think you’re some fucking monster when you’re not. And he fucking sucks anyway. He did everything to you, he almost got Dick killed, he’s gotten innocent people killed, he almost killed me, and he killed or almost killed Tim. Yeah, I’d like to kill him.” You let out a sigh. “I mean, if you really want to kill him for what he did to you, go for it just let me get a shot in. If it’s for me? Let me do it.”

“It’s kind of fucked we’re even having this conversation right now.” Jason chuckles. “Fine. But, I get a few fucking shots in. I meant what I said, no one gets to fuck with you again.”

“And I meant what I said. No one gets to fuck with you, Jason Todd.” You offer him a sweet smile, something that should feel off given you're talking about killing someone but instead, it brings Jason some sort of comfort.

A smirk grows onto his lips before it turns soft. “Can handle myself.”

“Okay, no the fuck you cannot.” You quip back as you let out a soft laugh. “Just because you can though, doesn’t mean you have to do it alone. I got you.” You smile softly at him. "You and me."

Jason remembers a night a few months ago and he was sitting in the library reading because things were just a little too heavy and loud that day. You walked in and started scrapbooking on the floor just so Jason wouldn't be alone. And he remembers thinking how peaceful it was, just the two of you. He remembers thinking he felt lucky.

In a world where he experiences so much pain and unfairness, he felt lucky in that moment and in every moment he got to spend with you. As much as he loves to beat himself up, especially these days, he'd like to think maybe he can be lucky again. Maybe he can be at peace again one day. If you keep on thinking this and keep a hold on him. If you're willing to not let him do this alone, just as you said all those months ago in San Francisco, maybe you can get back to where you were and maybe you both can be lucky and at peace. Maybe the universe will offer some sort of kindness for the suffering it's caused you both.

“What about the Titans?” Jason asks, clearing his throat and swallowing his own thoughts.

“Right, yeah, I uh, I need to talk to Dick still. I told them it was Crane last night, not sure really if they believed me or not. Hope so. I’m sure Gar did so that’s at least good.” You nod your head a few times, hating the idea of having to explain this whole thing to Dick. You're kind of tired of being the mediator.

“We could just go take out Crane ourselves.” Jason suggests casually as he gets up and walks to the other side of the room where he has a mini fridge seated against the wall.

"While that does sound like fun," You laugh softly because you wish you could actually just do that. It would probably put an end to all of this but Dick would lose his shit. “I have an idea.”

“I hate when you say that.” Jason groans as he grabs two bottles of Gatorade and a box of granola bars from the top of the fridge before he walks back over to you. Jason tosses the box and one of the Gatorades at you before he plops down and scoots himself so his back rests against the wall, his legs extending in front of him. "Assumed you haven't eaten or had anything to drink." Jason explains, cracking open his Gatorade while you do the same.

"Yeah, I haven't thank you." You give him a soft smile before you start explaining yourself, grabbing a granola bar before you start your ramble. “Taking Crane out would be a fun time and he deserves it and most of our problems would likely be solved. However, what if Dick is right? What if he does have something bigger planned that we don’t know about? And then we kill him and like…maybe he poisons everyone somehow or blows up the city? I don’t know. We kind of need to know. And knowing his whereabouts would also be kind of helpful. So, what if you just….side with him still? Be the inside guy, right? And then Dick will really believe us that it wasn’t you who shot us and you won’t have to worry about Dick trying to turn you in, I wouldn’t let him but still.”

Jason pauses, holding the open bottle of Gatorade to his mouth. He's pretty sure you're suffering blood loss because that's insane. It's about as insane as you saying he should take the drug to not go through withdrawal. You're losing your sanity. "He already poisoned the water." Jason states.

"He did what now?" You blink at him.

"Your phone died, yeah. The water is poisoned with something he did so don't drink it. GCPD put out an alert this morning." Jason explains.

"Oh, that's fun. Well, still. It's Crane. You know he has something completely insane planned. Probably." You scoot closer to Jason, sitting on your knees right beside him. 

“You want me to work with fucking Crane after he just tried to kill you? That’s fucking insane. Do you know that?” Jason questions with a groan. He wants nothing to do with Crane, even if he could get information from him.

“Yes.” You nod once.

“Fuck no.” Jason shakes his head in the same casual manner before snagging a granola bar.

“Jay, look, okay he thinks he can still manipulate you so let him think that and find out what he’s up to.”

“He won’t tell me shit.” Jason shakes his head in annoyance as he unwraps the granola bar.

“Maybe he will now. If he just tried to kill me and you go back to him anyway, right? Say I turned on you or whatever. That I think it was a setup against me so you wouldn’t have to be the one to pull that trigger. If he knows you’ll turn on me, maybe he’ll finally trust you enough to tell you what’s going on. You’re a pretty good liar sometimes.” You urge him and you know this is an insane idea but it's what you have. The Titans will never figure out Crane's plan without some inside help. They need it.

“You said I was shit liar.” Jason argues, pointing the granola bar at you.

“Well, to me.” You chuckle softly. “I always know when you’re lying but I think you can lie pretty well when you actually need to. I mean, no one figured out you were Robin. And I think that was obvious. I met you and all I thought was that it made sense.”

“This is fucking stupid.” Jason nods his head casually.

“Yeah, well, this whole thing has been fucking stupid. You go back to Crane, work with him and I’ll stay with the Titans. You call the burner when you find shit out and I loop Dick in. You don’t have to physically be home to work with us. You find out, the Titans bring in Crane and shut down whatever shit he’s got going on, then we kill him and you go home.” You explain simply and Jason hates just how convincing you can be.

You make a good point. Jason knows he can lie his ass off, he just wanted to argue. He's worried though because Crane has a way of knowing Jason is lying. It's how he found out about you from the beginning of it all. Jason couldn't just lie because Crane would know. It wasn't exactly a life-or-death situation then though. Maybe Jason wasn't trying all that hard to get away with lying then anyway. Crane admitting his plan would be helpful and Crane thinking you turned on Jason would give Jason enough motive to give up on the Titans entirely. It's not a horrible plan but Jason isn't happy about it.

“Alright fucking fine but this is shit and you know that.” Jason lets out a groan.

“I know.” You smile. “But, it’ll be worth it when his prodigie betrays him in the end.” You scrunch your nose, smiling with pride and Jason can see the light come back to your eyes. He thinks you're gonna be okay.

“You know, kinda hot when you got a plan all ready to go.” Jason offers you a cheeky smirk, his eyes raking over you before coming back to your face.

“I do have my moments.” You grin wickedly at him. “Kind of hot when you actually do what I say.”

“Alright, fuck you. Don't get used to it, babe.” Jason chuckles, shaking his head as the white streak flops onto his forehead. “When we doing this?”

“You could head out now, meet up with Crane and I’ll head back to the manor.” You suggest before taking a bite of your granola bar.

“Alright, just, uh, be careful, please. Let me know if shit happens with the Titans. I don’t want them attacking you for this shit.”

“I got it. I’ve been dealing with them the whole time. Don’t worry, Jay.” You smile softly a him as Jason gets to his feet and stands in front of you.

There's something dark in his eyes this time. He's standing over you as if he doesn't really want to leave. His brows are pinching together in the way they always do when he's worried and his jaw is squaring. He's putting all of the pressure onto his good leg, something you still notice immediately. But, he stands as if he's an unmovable force anyway and the smirk drops from his face.

“I’m serious, alright? Be careful.” Jason sucks in a breath and you've never seen him this kind of protective over you before.

“I will, promise.” You offer him a soft nod before Jason reluctantly heads out.

Jason is still hesitant, keeping his stance in front of you and it feels wrong. It always feels wrong to just leave. But, it's not his place to offer something else in place of him leaving anymore. And he also knows the second he walks back to Crane, that'll probably the last time you see each other until it's resolved. You're going to have to go to the Titans and Dick will likely be watching you closely, to make sure you don't get yourself killed or flip sides again. A lot can happen in a day or a few days and you were just almost killed. It scares the ever-living shit out of him, the very thought of losing you the way you lost him. He hates that he's leaving again. It's what he has to do and he knows that but knowing what he has to do to end this, doesn't make the decision any easier.

Jason leans down, placing his hand on your cheek before he rests his forehead against yours. Your eyes fall closed, a soft and subtle smile coming to your lips.

"Don't do anything fucking stupid and for once, listen to Dick and Gar, alright?" Jason asks, pulling just enough to see your face.

Your brows pull together. "You want me to listen to Dick?"

Jason is still mad at him and maybe Dick wants him dead still. That's always a possibility but something Jason knows, now that he's thinking with a clear head is that Dick does try to protect the Titans. They're his family and he's the leader. And Gar is one of your best friends. The two of them won't let anything happen to you if they can stop it. He knows you taking off had nothing to do with Gar and after last night, Jason thinks Gar would try to actually stop you if it happens again.

Jason's jaw squares, reluctant to say it again. "I'm serious. You got fucking shot." Jason quips.

"Okay." You agree softly, knowing if Jason is asking you to listen to anyone, you should probably take the advice. It always means Jason is very worried and serious. Two things that are a bit unsettling. "I will, promise." You smile softly before pressing your forehead to his for a second. "Now, go, okay? I'll be fine."

Jason nods his head, pulling away and dropping his hand. "I'll call when I find something out." Jason offers one last nod before he turns and darts out of the room.

Jason heads out to an old mechanic shop to meet up with Crane and for the life of him, he has no idea why he's even agreed to this. The only thing he wants to do right about now is kill Crane. He wants to fight him and shoot him and cause him horrendous pain for what he's put you through. He could have killed you and Jason swore no one would ever get away with it. But, now he has to walk in here and pretend he's not pissed about it. He's a good liar, but he doesn't know if he'll actually be able to withhold his blooming hatred.

When Jason meets with Crane, Crane seems to be acting perfectly normal, seemingly believing Jason will always be on his side no matter what. It's something Jason finds to be interesting because he already knew Crane was arrogant. But, he didn't think he was arrogant enough to think Jason would just be perfectly fine with him after being drugged, tricked, lied to, and used. He just shot Tim, possibly ruining his chances of actually going home. He could have killed you. Jason already threatened Crane but Crane seems perfectly fine with everything and Jason's wondering if that's because he agreed to meet.

"You could have fucking killed her." Jason starts with gritted teeth as they walk into the car garage.

"Yeah...sorry about that." Crane says casually. "She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes, there are necessary casualties."

Crane is confident in his ability to manipulate Jason. Crane didn't have a single thing on the kid and Jason still spilled everything about Batman and the Titans. It was easy. It might become more difficult right now, but Crane is confident they'll overcome the current hurdle. After all, for the time being, Crane does still need Jason for his own disposal.

Jason wants to explode right here and take Crane out with him. A necessary causality? That's how you and Tim are being referred to? There is no such thing as a necessary causality when it comes to innocent people. Innocent people don't have to die. They don't have to be hurt. It was a choice Crane made in order to get you out of the way. To show Jason Crane is the one still running the show. And Jason has to stand here and pretend like this is all fine and lie. He's ready for this whole thing to be done and over with.

"You were right anyway." Jason sucks up his pride and do as you tell him. For that alone, Jason should get to kill him after this. "She was going to turn me in. It was all a setup, that's why she was even there."

Crane seems to perk up with Jason's words and he's hoping Crane believes him. "I did tell you she couldn't be trusted. That must be so hard to handle right now. But, see, now you know who has your back." Crane offers an eery smile. "Do I need to finish the job now?" Crane asks bluntly and he is definitely asking to gauge Jason's reaction. He doesn't miss the way Jason's hands turn into fists at his sides with his knuckles turning white.

"No." Jason states. "I'll do it." He states simply, releasing his hands.

"Good. Then you'll have nothing to worry about." Crane pats Jason's shoulder and Jason is ready to change the subject. He hopes that'll be enough bait for now.

"What the fuck is this?" Jason asks, switching the conversation as he looks around.

"This is where the victors go to rest their weary heads." Crane says.

"We didn't win." Jason argues. "They were gonna take me back but you fucked it all up." Sure, Crane did manage to poison the water but from where Jason is standing, it doesn't seem like too many people have been affected and with the alert going out, less people will likely drink the water. They didn't win anything.

"So you had a moment." Crane states simply, completely unbothered. "I've had plenty of them myself. Let bygones by bygones. I forgive you." Crane says before he pulls the cover off a yellow sports car. He lets out a sigh, as if to be pleased by the vehicle. "Sprezzatara."

Jason just rolls his eyes before he leans against the car, resting his back against the A frame. He's annoyed and he wants to get out of here. The hell if Crane forgiving him for? As far as Jason is concerned, he thinks getting him drugged was payback enough for him dealing the drug out behind his back. And Crane seems to be growing a little annoyed with him, too as he lets out a sigh before closing the garage door using the button hanging from a cable.

"Show some respect." Crane says sternly. "Sit." Crane depends, lightly gesturing towards a chair in front of a desk with a computer.

Jason does as told, sitting down and slouching in his seat.

"You know who Edward Bernays is?" Crane asks.

"The sauce guy?" Jason questions.

"Eggs and bacon." Crane says, taking a seat beside Jason. "Classic American breakfast. Do you know why?"

"What's this have to do with--"

"Pork farmers paid Edward Bernays to make it so. See, but Edward Bernays, he had this...this uncle, right? Dear old Uncle Sigmund. As in Sigmund Freud. See, and Freud taught Edward Bernays how the human mind worked. And Edward, he worked the human mind. He didn't sell the proletariat bacon. He sold them the idea that a hearty breakfast was what every doctor thought was best for them. After that, the bacon, it sold itself. Edward Bernays understood that an idea is the most powerful weapon we have." Crane explains before he swivels in his chair to face the computer, Jason eying him carefully and he's getting a really bad feeling about all of this. "It's not the product, it's how you sell it." Crane says as he brings up footage of Nightwing fighting some bad guys and Crane is in some type of editing software. "And Gotham is in need of a new product. We now interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you a message for the good people of Gotham.

Jason leans forward as the video starts to play, Crane already having sent it out as alert to every person in Gotham City.

Oh no.

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[igotanidea]

It's over: Jason Todd x f!reader

Summary: Jason was dead. Or, well, at least that what Y/N believed. After all, she saw his body, she attended his funeral. And she was hurting for so long. It took her almost two years to get back into sort of normality. And then, then she found out he was alive all this time......

And only because he showed up at her door......

Warnings: hell lot of cussing, angst to the nth degree, a bit of kissing and touching (nothing explicit though), possible crying coming, Taylor Swift quotation.

Based on: "If I ever" by Conor Maynard

A/N: before this, I got a request from an angst lover (story is here: Lost), whoever you are, I dedicate this one's to you.

„Is this a joke?!”

„Y/N…..”

“Is this a fucking joke?!”

“Please, just calm down.”

“Fuck off! You don’t get to tell me what to do!! Not after, after…..” she was slowly breaking in her anger, reality creeping in, draining all the power she had. Her legs gave up on her and she just slid down the wall onto the floor, her limbs laying loose, boneless, eyes wide open while she was processing the situation she just found herself in.

Poor girl. Y/N was an old friend of Jason Todd. They met before he got adopted by Bruce and become Robin. Both Y/N and Jason were raised in Crime Alley and get to know each other from getting in and out of common trouble. When Bruce came in, Jason made sure he took care of his friend as well and that was how she ended up in Wayne Manor, learning about the technology and surveillance and soon becoming the “man, or rather woman in the chair”. Their story was classical “friends to lovers” trope, only ending with them becoming a couple due to Dick’s foul mouth. One time he mentioned something about Jason catching feelings and Y/n, being her direct and straightforward self, confronted the boy about it. After a while of blushing and sweating he finally confessed and they became a couple. And despite everything, the temper tantrums and insecurities they worked through it. Robin and his right wing. They were good together. Until Jason decided to go against Joker.  And got killed. And left her completely alone, or at least that was how she felt at that moment. She could not leave the past behind, desperately holding to the little pieces of memories she had of him, of them. Dick, Tim and Damian did their best to make her get through but she was too stubborn for her own good. It took her 23 months to start slowly healing her heart. And just as she was ready to get out of the house and start living again, maybe getting back to her own position in batfamily, she learned that Jason death was…. temporary and he was in fact alive, and  running around as Red Hood. That was a kick in the teeth. But what was even worse was that one afternoon she found him inside her apartment, placed on the couch with remorseful expression, ready to beg for forgiveness and to crawl back into her freshly –patched up life.  Of course, the moment she saw him inside she wanted to throw him out the window but due to all his muscles and height it was not possible so instead she resorted to verbal anger, trying to hide the mix of emotions – pain, fear, relief, love…. Way too much for one person, so finally she just went silent not capable of dealing with it all.

“Y/N…. Please, say something. Baby…..”

“What did you just call me?!”

“I’m sorry.” He said and she was not exactly sure whether he was sorry for pretending to be dead for the last years or for using her pet name only to his advantage.

“You don’t…. you don’t….” she sobbed desperately and it took all his power not to scoop her in his arms at once, shielding her from the world, making her safe. He wanted to spare her the pain, but the sad truth was that he was the one to cause all of it and upon realizing his grand mistake his heart broke into million pieces. Perhaps even more than hers.

“Y/n…..” Jason tried once again, his hand reaching for hers, but the girl just yanked it away, hugging herself. All the shock she just went through by seeing her ­not-so-dead  dead boyfriend making all her body tremble from the sudden coldness.

“Don’t. Just…. Just don’t.“ she managed to say “I can’t do this again. I just can’t. Please, get out.”

“You know I can’t do that” he whispered closing his eyes in poor attempt to hide all the pain he held inside. His voice, however, gave him away.

“You had no problem with that when you pretended to be six feet under!”

“I wanted to protect you!” he screamed

“From what?!” she yelled back pretty sure her neighbors had perfect acoustic to hear the banter.

“From being hurt! From getting injured because of me! You know damn fucking well how many people were after me while I was still Robin!”

“Well, look where It got you…..Red Hood.” she said barely audible “Are you happy now? Knowing that you broke my heart? Knowing that you broke me. I cried for days for you, Jason. DAYS. I mourned you. I avoided Dick, Tim and Damian for weeks because every time they started the family drama it reminded me of you….”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, sorry does not make it any better, does it?” she lowered her gaze looking at the floor “and you know what’s the worst thing in all of that?”

“I….”

“I never, never, stopped loving you. Fuck! I could not get into a relationship with anyone even if I wanted a rebound. It was always your face I was seeing, it was always your smile, it was always you” his eyes widened at those words and their gazes met for a second. It was as if a spark flew between them lighting up their inside and making both of them get lost in each other’s eyes. Just like the first time they confessed to being in love.  Neither Y/n, not Jason turned away, and she did not stop him when he slowly leaned forward capturing her lips in his, pulling her onto his lap, closer, he wanted her closer. God, how he missed her, her skin, her warmth, her soft hands sneaking up his chest into his hair playing with the ends. He groaned tightening the grip to the point where she squealed from the long forgotten pain of his strong embrace, but he couldn't care less deepening the kiss, wanting more and more and more…..

He did not get much affection since he became Red Hood and even then, no one could ever compare to her and her gentle touch, the feel of her lips on his, her body against his. She was his one and only. She belonged with him. They were perfect. And then he had to go and fuck this up. Memories of them together just flooded him. All the nights she was spending at the manor waiting for the batboys to come back from the patrol and then checking on all of his injuries to the detriment of her own health.  All those nights she was falling asleep in his arms, feeling safe and loved. All those nights that the only thing that kept him going through all the fights was the thought of her and the knowledge of the comfort and tenderness her presence brought him.  Her acceptance no matter what he did and how bloody he got. All those mornings when they get to steal some time away from his vigilantism and just cuddle in bed, holding tight onto each other like they were one another’s lifeline.  Fuck! He loved when the first thing he saw after waking up was her beautiful face and peacefully sleeping form.  He missed her body, all those curves and stretch marks she hated so much. All those little imperfections of her skin he get to kiss and worship every time she got insecure. All the pleasure he was giving her, while just loving her for hours, never getting enough of her sweat moans and the way she reacted to his touch. Her smile, her laugh, her sense of humor, her brain, her intelligence….. All of her.

He wanted her. There could never be a time when he wouldn’t want her. His fingers started absentmindedly playing with the hem of her shirt and that made her pull away from him and stand up.

“Please…. “ he whined not wanting to let go.

“You need to go, Jason.” she stated simply

“Please, I….. I can make this right…. I’m begging you.  Don’t leave me like this.”

“How can you possibly make this right?” tears was flowing down her cheeks as with every other word she was taking a step away from him “you can’t. It’s too late.”

“But I love you.”

“I know.”

“So let me make this right.” He insisted, trying to convince her.

“No.” she shook her head turning her back to him “I’ll let you in and you will let me down…… How do I know I can trust you?

“You can. Baby, please….”

“Go away, Jason.” her eyes were everywhere but on him, she knew the expression in them would make her give in and she just couldn't do that.

“Do you want me to get on my knees? Fine.” He fell down next to her legs “I’m begging you, don’t do this.”

“Well one of us has to be strong.”

“I can be strong for both of us in believing we can get through this.”

“No.”

“Baby…”

“Stop calling me that! I’m not your baby! Not anymore! Why can’t you understand?! It’s fucking over, Jason! I don’t want to see you again!”

“You…. you don’t mean that…..”

“I sure as hell do. I’ve barely covered all the scars you left and you chose just this moment to show up in my life again! I took a detour from my way to work just to avoid our places! I’ve been through enough! I. Don’t. Want. You.” she poked at his hard chest and he just couldn’t stop himself from grabbing her waist and connecting their lips once again pulling her body closer than possible, moving his lips from her mouth to her jaw and neck, finding that one spot that made her moan softly and his blood boiled at the sound. He needed her. He needed her that exact moment. And he knew she needed and wanted him too. Maybe if he could just convince her, show her what she was missing during that years….. Surely, she did not forget all the things they did when no one was around.

“Y/n…..” he groaned against her skin “let me apologize properly. Let me love you……” his hand brushed over her breasts. “Let me remind you how good we are together….”

"Jay....." she moaned, her walls and tough attitude crumbling.

"I'm here baby. I'm here. Feel me...." he grabbed her hands placing them on his fast beating heart, while at the same time lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Oh, she felt everything at once. His kisses, his touch were too much and not enough at the same time.  His palms were burning against her skin yet she felt so cold, like the clothes were an obstacle in getting what she craved so desperately. Him. It was both wrong and so, so right. It was horrifying and beautiful, real and unreal. She wanted more and yet, she should not…. All those contradictions made her dizzy and her head spinning.  

“I should have known….” much to his surprise she sobbed and punched his chest, possibly hurting herself more than him but also making him stop in result “you just came here because you need a good fuck. I mean nothing more to you.”

“That is not true….. You know you mean everything to me." he put her on the ground "Everything! I care about you, always did. When I had no one, even in this stupid family Bruce decided to create, you were always there for me. It’s more than just physical, you know we had, have, a connection.”

Oh, she knew it. She knew it well enough, they were linked on so many different emotional levels. And she knew aiming at this was her last resort  to make him leave.

“Jason.”

“What can I do, babe?”

“You can turn around and walk out the door.”

“Is that what you really want? You want us to be strangers now? You will go over to the other side when you see me on the street? Is that how you want to play? Huh?! Answer me!” out of desperation he gripped her shoulders with much more strengths than intended “I’m sorry. Oh shit, god, love I’m so sorry” he mumbled in guilt letting go, realizing that if he ever had any chance to convince her to trust him again it was now buried. She flinched and slouched, so fragile and delicate and apparently, no longer his to protect and comfort.

“Band aids don’t fix bullet holes. “ she said and he froze on the spot. Fuck, if she was quoting Taylor on him it was really, really bad “you say sorry just for show. You know how the song go, don’t you? We got bad blood. Leave.” Her voice was now ice cold, her face blank.

“No.”

“Just fucking leave!” she grabbed the nearest item (which happened to be a book he used to read to her, while she was drifting off in his embrace on particularly rough evenings, after all day of work) and threw it at him. He caught it, gently stroking the cover and straightening the pages.

“Fine. Fine! I’ll go! Whatever you fucking want!” he turned around on the heels, tears in his eyes threatening to spill and walked out the door, shutting it loudly behind.  Only now he wrapped his head around the fact it was truly over. He fucked up for good and there was no way back. She would never forgive him and he would never get a chance to hold her, kiss her, talk to her and bond over silly, little things.

“Y/n….” he whispered softly, lovingly, still longing for her as he rested his head on the outer side of the door. “I’m so fucking sorry.” That dull ache in his chest tearing him apart. He just wanted to make things right and ended up tossed away, again .…

Little did he know, that inside the apartment the girl, whose heart he broke twice was laying on the bed sobbing and holding tight onto the plushie he won for her at the fair so many years ago.

“Jay….” She cried silently, not able to calm down without his arms wrapped tightly around her, his warmth lulling her to sleep. He didn’t deserve this. But then, neither did she….

He opened the wound and this time she was not sure if she could recover again. But one thing she knew for sure. It was over. The question was, how long will it take to deal with the pain this time.      

[menacing-menace-rat]

Heya! Just saw your post so I hope you don't mind my fluff related somewhat crossover of Batman and Moon Knight:

In this random AU, Bruce Wayne witnessing the death of his parents was such a traumatic moment that it would spiral to give him DID (his extra personalities being Steven Grant and Jake Lockley from Moon Knight).

Now in present time, each character of the batfamily (of your choice) while doing something together (maybe training perhaps) can't help but each remember fondly about the first time meeting Bruce and eventually finding out and meeting his other personalities as well and how much it was quite a surprise. They even each tell their most fondest memories with Bruce, Steven or Jake, by the end, they don't realize that Bruce Wayne has came back, smiling with Steven Grant and Jake Lockley also feeling happy.

Hope that's okay, thanks and have a great day

Hey! Okay I think I understand the request but in case I don't, feel free to ask again. I have never done cross over stuff before but I love both batman and moonknight so I'm excited to try. They really feel like they fit together so well. I can totally imagine the wild interactions between these men. Anyway without further or do here you go! 😄

        The kids were used to Bruce's changes. Most of them thought of Steven as a second dad. Jake only came out when needed but having a family seemed to mello him out almost like he felt safe with them.

        It had been a rough night for everyone. Gotham just seemed to be falling deeper into the hands of crime lords and maniacs. Dick, Jason, and Tim made their way to the kitchen for a snack before bed. 

        “Any of you catch Jake and Bruce arguing again?” Tim asked as Dick grabbed them all some cereal. 

        “Nah I got real good at tuning out their bickering. Don't take them so seriously. They will work it out.” Jason says as he shoves a whole huge spoonful cereal into his mouth. 

         “Do you guys remember a few Christmases ago when Steven and Alfred worked all morning to set up the living room for a Christmas card photo and Damien puked all over the rug?” Dick said as he finally made himself a bowl. He smiled as he remembered the look on everyone's face. There they all were dressed in their finest and poor Damien just couldn't keep it down. 

          “All I remember was the smell. I told him not to eat the ancient candy canes in the decoration box.” Tim said with a chuckle. “I thought you were going to bring up when Jake bought that bike and tried to park it in the greenhouse. I thought Bruce was going to throw that thing in the pool for a second.” Tim added. 

         “Oh my God I forgot about that!” Jason interjected as he choked down another large spoonful. “That bike was great. I think that was the first bike I ever rode. Jake can be a pain but he taught me everything I know about bikes. I hope Bruce wasn't jumping down his throat too much tonight. The guy really has a knack for taking the fun out of vigilante work.” 

         Everyone knew Jason and Jake were close. When Jason first came back from the dead Jake was the only person he'd let near him. They just understood each other. Jake was the father Jason thought he needed. 

         “Jake's alright but Steven will let me talk his ear off all day if Bruce isn't busy. I even got him into RPGs and he helped me rebuild my computer.” Tim commented finishing his bowl of cereal first.

       The boys continued talking about their shared experiences with Bruce, Steven, and Jake. It's an unconventional set up for a family but they all manage to make it work together.

       At some point Bruce realized they hadn't gotten around for bed yet so he looked in the one place he knew he'd find three teen boys, the kitchen. Sure enough they were there all sat on stools, cereal long finished. They were boisterously recounting their favorite moments with their surrogate fathers. If Steven had been in control a tear might have come to Bruce's eye.

       The sun started to rise and eventually they all went to bed. Bruce couldn't help but sleep a little sounder knowing Steven and Jake were loved by his adopted sons. He couldn't ask for a better family.

        It got a little sappy near the end but I hope you enjoyed. It was a really fun AU to write. The idea is super creative and sweet. I hope I did it justice. 💕

[m1rthal]

I see a lot of misunderstandings coming from Jason's moral code, and I would like to touch on that a bit.

Jason doesn't want solely want revenge on the Joker. Yes, that is part of the reason he wants the Joker dead, but I feel that a much larger part of it is that Jason wants to prevent other's death.

The Joker has killed hundreds of people over the course of years of terrorizing Gotham and its citizens. In all of these years, a single bullet could have prevented all of this pain and suffering. That is what Jason wants. In getting revenge for taking Bruce away from him, the Joker will never be able to hurt anyone else again.

In certain comics, there have been versions of Batman that did kill after Jason's death, but to me these versions are highly unsatisfying because they only focus on the emotional satisfaction of getting revenge, but never take into account the practical part.

The Joker has a long history of breaking out of Arkham constantly to cause more death. Bruce has tried and failed to stop this. Every time that the Joker escapes, he causes nothing but death and misery. Therefore, by killing the Joker you save more lives than you take.

I have trouble with Batman's moral code because it fails to take into account the Trolley Problem. I'm sure that everyone reading this has heard of the Trolley Problem, so I won't bother summarizing it for you. By refusing to pull the lever, you let many people die. By pulling the lever, you cause less people to die. Sure, you should search for a better option, but when it comes down to it, you should pull the lever because refusing to pull the lever is just as much causing death as pulling it is. To put it simply, inaction is equivalent to action, it's just the act of not choosing.

By letting the Joker live, Bruce is indirectly killing the people the Joker kills, or at the very least allowing it. Bruce is not saving lives, he is killing just as much as he would be otherwise. But Bruce refuses to acknowledge this constantly, and that is my problem with Batman's moral philosophy.

Jason, on the other hand, has seen what inaction leads to. He has felt it like few others could have, and is just one of many corpses in the graveyards that the Joker has filled. He realizes that his choice of not killing the Joker is far worse than killing the Joker outright.

In UTRH, Jason tries to teach Bruce that lesson, but Bruce refuses to learn. He refuses to choose, ignoring the consequences of his inaction. That is why Jason becomes so frustrated in the final scene, and, to put mildly, fucks up big time.

If Jason just wanted revenge for his death, he would have tortured the Joker and been some with it. Or he would have forced the Joker to die and come back like he did, so that the Joker went through the same pain Jason did. But Jason didn't stop there. He wanted to make sure that the Joker would never hurt anyone else again.

To summarize my perspective on Jason's attitude towards killing, if it saves more lives than it takes, then it must be done. Bruce on the other hand, refuses to believe that killing is ethical under any circumstance.

To be clear, I'm not trying to say that Bruce's way of thinking is entirely invalid. If people think that murder is never okay under any circumstance, then all power to them. I may not personally agree with their own ethics, but I cannot make them change what their moral code is.

Here are some dumbass point people make for Jason's morality

"Jason never really wanted to kill the Joker in UTRH, because if he did he would have done so right away." Firstly, he wanted to torture the Joker for revenge, and kill him to save others. Secondly, he wanted Bruce to make that decision, not him, for reasons seen above.

"But in UTRH, Jason said that he would have gone and killed the Joker out of revenge of it was Bruce that killed him." Fair point, but I don't think that that is what he was saying. Jason was saying that if it was Bruce who had been killed in Ethiopia, then that would have been the eye-opener for Jason like Jason's death should have been for Bruce. He's not saying that out of vengeance, but to tell Bruce what he would have done in Bruce's position.

"But in the alternate endings of UTRH anniversary edition, Jason does kill out of revenge." I'm not really sure that is the case. I mean, he already has different circumstances of the past so I'm not sure what this would even count towards our main Jason, but also even as Red Robin he just takes his code like above. He thinks that he's saving more people by killing.

I know that Jason's and Batman's whole moral code is highly controversial, often because it extends past the point of characters and translates into our own world, but I just wanted to put my take in there. I know that I always have had a different view on ethics than other people in my town, so I wanted to get my own opinion on what Jason is thinking.

Of course, I am doing a LOT of projecting onto Jason in this entire thing, and I will admit that I have read zero of the comics, but I'm still a fan of Jason. My lack of knowledge shouldn't make me and my whole point of view entirely invalid, and I understand that other people have different opinions. Just try to keep things civil and not take this too personally, I guess I'm trying to say.

[sullustangin]

The Obi-Wan recap

Spoilers ahoy for the Obi-Wan mini-series.

After I watched the first two episodes, I expressed the concern that the show writers were potentially making Reva the crappy fan fic version of Mace Windu: angry black character that’s unnecessary cruel.  I worried that the Sith were doing a DS 5: Stupid Evil run, when Reva fragged the Grand Inquisitor.

Sometimes, you just need to shut up and watch.

So I did.

Moses Ingram gives Reva Sevander a beautifully tragic turn.  She has played Lady MacDuff, character who feels that her husband has abandoned his family for the sake of power and thus has left them vulnerable.  Indeed, Macbeth orders the death of Macduff’s family, and thus the Lady meets her fate just off-stage.   

As Reva, Ingram plays someone who has lost everything and everyone, yet she manifests the main message of the Star Wars series: hope.  It’s always been hope.  Therefore, the character of Reva undermines the tropes of tragic women such as the Greek Hecuba and Medea, who upon losing their beloved, they kill to serve that same pain to their male oppressors (in the case of Hecuba, she kills the children of her son’s murderer; Medea kills her own children after her husband Jason betrays and abandons both her and the children on several levels).  Lady MacDuff is killed in the act of trying to save her children.

But Reva doesn’t die.  She does not kill. 

Because that would be unsatisfying.  It is unclear as to whether Reva realizes Vader is the father of the boy on Tatooine or if he’s just another Force Sensitive Obi-Wan is protecting.  If she has figured it out, then killing Luke is pointless because Obi-Wan is hiding the boy from his father; Vader won’t hurt if she kills the boy.  If Luke is just some Force-Sensitive kid that Obi-Wan is watching over, then the person being hurt is Obi-Wan. 

Reva’s feelings toward Obi-Wan are complicated and, I think, ambivalent.  She plans to use him to lure Vader and kill him.  I do not know if she ever thought what she wanted to do with him after Vader was dead. Yes, she has anger toward him as Anakin’s master, which is only magnified by his continued affection for him -- or at least the memory of him.  But is it enough to make her want to kill him?  Vader’s death was probably Reva’s event horizon: she could see no further than that point.  She would have had her revenge.  And then what?  She has a Jedi hostage.  Does she kill him?  Rise through the ranks of the Inquisition with this prize?  Does it attract Palpatine’s attention, now that Vader is dead?  All of this is unknown and hypothetical.

When we leave Reva at the end of the series, there is the question : And now what?  She has not become the thing she hates.  At the same time, she doesn’t have a clear path forward in a post-Jedi galaxy -- especially not after being left for dead by the Empire.  She is, as Obi-Wan says, free.  She confronted Vader and lost; she confronted herself and won when she showed the mercy he did not. 

I can’t wait to see Moses Ingram in Star Wars again.  In her last moments on screen, she really did convey herself as someone in her late teens and early 20s; remember that Reva was a youngling 10 years prior, so she cannot be much older than 20 now.  Throughout the series, when she is the Third Sister, she projects almost an indeterminate age, a combination of energy and calculation... but in her final scenes, we see just how young and lost this character actually is, and it is beautiful. 

~~

I sat on my feels for Tala Durith for a little bit, because I wanted to see how “we originally conceived this as a romance, but we decided not to pursue it” panned out.  Indira Varma has said she played Tala as if she was in love with Obi-Wan.  In her performance, she doesn’t play with infatuation -- she does play love, and that love is of a grown woman.  It’s not necessarily a romantic ‘in love’ that’s played here, which I liked.  She knows and sees everything that this man represents.  At the same time, she sees how haunted he is and how painfully mortal he is.  He is unavailable to her.  She loves the man, not the legend.  Tala knows herself and the limits of this fragile galaxy.  It’s a very good, mature take, and how I wish something more like this (not exactly like this, it’s a different dynamic, but that depth and dimension) had manifested in the Anakin/Padme romantic tragedy.  I’d probably enjoy for more than “Across the Stars,” if that was the case. 

I enjoyed so thoroughly how Tala programmed her droid ‘to help.’  And he did, from the moment he didn’t give away her location to picking up Obi-Wan to his final moments with Tala.  Women and droids are lovely things -- just ask Leia Organa and Hera Syndulla.

~~

Good to see Haja again, but... I almost feel as if he was there just as “See!  He’s alive!!”  I didn’t find what he said or did particularly critical in the last two episodes; the role could have been filled by others.  That said, this might be a springboard for the character to appear later.  We’ll see. 

~~

Ewan McGregor has really taken seriously the transition from Episode III Obi Wan to Episode IV Ben Kenobi.  The character is constantly dynamic and in motion, physically and emotionally.  I do think the writing choices for this character were excellently done; he is a traumatized mess, so much to the point he cannot be the person he was trained to be from the age of 3 to the age of 38.  Now in his late 40s, he’s having to ‘grow beyond’ the events ten years prior in a span of about a week.  Obi-Wan does rise to the occasion -- as one should expect.

~~

Hayden Christensen.  I was impressed.  I understand the creative choice not to de-age him back down to 19 in the flashbacks.   I think it’s also a POV choice as to how Vader thinks of himself now, even as the external reality does not match.  Many other people have analyzed the obsession Vader has for Obi-Wan, that mad love. I’ll leave much of the discourse to them; I feel like I would be beating a dead horse over the words “All he’ll see is me” that are so excruciatingly accurate. 

And it is love.  It is the most intense love, so much that it can only be eclipsed by the hate it generates.  I have a more nuanced view of the Obi-Wan and Anakin dynamic that is grounded in how medieval apprenticeships/giving children unto churches worked, so I wouldn’t call it Obikin or a sex/romantic ship... but make no mistake, that love could light a thousand binary suns.

~~

I don’t know if I want season 2.  It’s one of those things where I feel it’s done.  I rather someone leave me wanting more and let my brain go to work in fan fic, rather than let something run a few seasons too long and destroy my interest. 

[shefatalesarch]

HERE ARE SOME OF MY HEADCANONS BELOW THE READ MORE FOR BRUCE WAYNE. FC: RICHARD ARMITAGE (still wish he got the role for bvs)

The Bat symbol in his suit is made from the melted down parts of the gun Joe Chill used to kill his parents, when he was arrested and charged Bruce took it, and used it as a symbol to be something better rather then a symbol of pain.

Martha and Thomas' room in the Manor looks exactly like it was the day they died. This is where Bruce keeps his mother's pearls which were given to him after Joe Chill's arrest and charged with their murder. It was the only time he ever entered the room after their death. Alfred enters it to keep it clean, dusted, but otherwise it remains unaltered, untouched and always locked. Bruce refused to move into the master suite when he got older and fully took over the Wayne Manor, Wayne Enterprises and came into his fortune, and when he returned from his travels to take up the mantle of Batman. He couldn't bring himself to sleep there.

Bruce had all the pearls reconstructed into the necklace they once were after Gordon returned his parents personal effects upon the arrest of Joe Chill.

although he may seem like he has given up hope on harvey two face is one bad guy he struggles with and believes he can turn around. harvey is a long time friend of bruce and he believes that his friend is still in there so he’s constantly on the look out and working on the side on some kind of cure or method to saving harvey from the madness inside.

although he can be forgetful and distant and sometimes drop the ball in regards to the boys it is a misconception that he doesn't care, or is a poor father. damien is everything to him, and he would crumble at the thought of ever losing him. he's tough, but mostly because he feels he has to be. i do not accept the random beating he laid on jason in the recent red hood comics, or that he wasn't invited to alfred's funeral. one thing comics fail to do is find balance for bruce being batman and bruce. i take a lot inspiration from the animated series in regards to bruce's ability to balance fatherhood and batman.

Bruce doesn't care to take my in the way of drugs and actually works towards more natural healing, and pain medication because when Bane broke his back he fought an unhealthy addiction to performance enhancers trying to get himself out into the field again when he wasn't ready to be out again. He hated the kind of person he was when he was driving that way, and since then has been careful about his medications. bruce also has a weak spot in his back if he gets hit too hard or takes to serious of a beating it could trigger his old injury when his back was broken and leave him useless, and easily taken out. recent comics illustrated this when he was left for dead after taking a back injury, and had to take an entire month to get back in the game and only survived because selina found him in the snow.

Bruce doesn't usually open up, it's his reluctance to be open that usually delays his romantic life, or letting people in but when he finally does let someone in he is a very romantic being. evident by his engagement with selina, he had her get close to the robins, all of them, he had her move in, he tells her he loves her all the time. Bruce is a romantic once he opens his heart its all yours.

DCEU SPECIFIC:

Because Bruce has been Batman for 20 years in DCEU he did have a rather lengthy and deep relationship with Selina Kyle but they realized that it could never work, she was a criminal, and he had a complicated moral grey area with her but they could never be together as Bruce and Selina, and that wasn't a real life. So they ended up calling it, and he hasn't seen her since. It was about ten years into being Batman that they tried and failed.

for everyone who needs it said. it wasn't just that clark kept saying martha and that their mom's names are the same that stopped him that day from killing clark but rather that it humanized clark for him. he was so fixated on clark being this unstoppable alien that he lost sight of the fact that he grew up here. he was human, and more so than even bruce in that moment. it snapped him out of it through something that was meaningful for bruce and relatable. it made him realize clark was just as human as him or anyone else, and that he didn't deserve to die because of bruce's fears.

Bruce trailed with Ras al Ghul in order to better himself in his years before becoming Batman. It was during this time he met, and shared a complicated romantic relationship with Talia al Ghul. They had a very on, and off again relationship. Sometime after his break up with Selina Kyle, Talia and Bruce crossed paths once more. Beneath Gotham, in Wonder City (or Old Gotham) there is a Lazarus Pit which Ras was trying to use to prolong his life, but thanks to Bruce and Talia turning her back on her father they stopped his made tyrant and she took over the league from there, Talia is the only Bruce trusts to ensure the protection of the pit beneath Gotham and thus the only one he lets near it. During their time working against her father they shared in a reconnection and ended up sleeping together, a few times. It resulted in the birth of a son, not that Bruce knows yet, Damien is about 8 years old with the mental age of like a 30 year old lbh

[spiderwing-nightman]

Dick Grayson Tattoo Headcanon

was talking with a friend last night and the conversation was about batfam and said friend goes: “Dick definitely has a dumb tattoo that he got as a teenager,” so of course I responded with “it is definitely a mashup of the superman and batman symbols in like really ugly colors because he wanted it to stand out but then realized what he’d done, and it’s definitely on his shoulder blade.” Eventually we decided that he accidentally got it in Joker green and purple on accident and the whole family sorta makes fun of it and they call it the JokerSuperBat monstrosity. But then I started thinking about when he got it and I decided that either right before or right after Jason died would be really interesting to think about. So I imagined if it was before Jason died that he got this tattoo and all if a sudden he is marked by the men who raised and mentored him and also the man who took his little brother from him. 

So I thought of this, but then I realized I liked it more if he got it right AFTER Jason’s death. Cause I just imagined Dick, numb with grief, not being wholly aware of his surroundings, knowing that he needs a reminder of the life he is living and it’s dangers and of Jason, and he just needs to feel something, anything, stumbles into a tattoo parlor and shows the artist the design, not paying attention to which colors he picks out, only to discover later, when he can finally think straight again, that he chose green and purple. The colors of the man who killed his little brother, his brother who thought Robin gave him magic and had been on his own far too young, his brother who was gone now because of the man who claimed green and purple. just imagine Dick intending to get a tattoo featuring the 2 men who have had arguably the greatest effect on his adult life, but discovering that he got a third, one who had undoubtedly affected him, but one he didn’t want anywhere near him ever again. The one who unintentionally served as the best reminder of what had happened. Imagine Dick having a reminder of the man who made him who he is and gave him his sense of justice, the man who named him and defined him, and the one he wishes were dead, who’s the source of his grief. And then imagine Jason coming back and Dick trying to touch his shoulder blade because it’s right there, the reminder of that night, of the dark weeks and months that came after, but here he is, his brother, back from the dead and suddenly the man who claimed the colors of the tattoo isn't the source of his grief, but they’re the source of his brother’s pain and because of that Dick’s too. and like Dick keeps the tattoo even though the rest of the family doesn’t get it, but Dick knows, Dick remembers and that’s what matters. 

[the-marvelclub]

Don’t forget me

steve rogers x reader

Summary: Steve and reader are happily married, so what happens when a mission goes wrong and Steve is pronounced dead? And what if he comes back but she’s already in a relationship?

Warnings: Fluff, a lot of angst, main character death (?) but with a happy ending.

masterlist

Author’s note: Happy because i finished this in just a few hours, hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always appreciated.

Little caresses of soft fingers running up and down your bare back made you shiver, waking you up, your eyes flutter open.

You groaned and buried your face in the pillow. Steve's chuckle echoed throughout the room before you felt wet kisses being spread all over your lower back, slowly making their way up to your shoulders. Fingers moving your hair to one side exposing your right ear. 

"Good morning, Dollface" he whispered in your ear in his husky voice, which honestly always sounds like that when he just woke up, and he bit your ear lobe making butterflies erupt in your stomach and making you a little giddy.  

You had spent the night in Steve's room, the light soft reddish color coming through the windows and painting the white walls of Steve's room making you aware that it was probably just dawn, the atmosphere was calm and familiar and his bed was certainly a thousand times more comfortable than yours could ever be. 

"Good god, Steve. I bet you it's not even 6:00am" you mumbled sleepily, he might be a super soldier but you needed your 9 hours of sleep. Steve let out a chuckle in your ear again, bringing shivers all over your body. 

"You really look cute when you're half asleep like that" he replied still talking into your ear, running his soft hand all over your back only to then grab your waist, letting his arm rest there. "I want to marry you." 

You smiled before turning your body to be face to face with Steve knowing he wouldn't let you sleep anymore, you pulled the white silk sheet in your best effort to cover your body looking up at him. He was leaning on his left elbow, his right arm still wrapped around your waist, his torso was naked, the sheets on his hips.

"But I already said ‘I do’, baby" you smiled showing him the ring on your left hand and remembering your wedding day. You had been best friends for what seemed like forever before a mission which required you to pretend to be married led to you both confessing your feelings, then you had realized it had all been a plan by the others to finally get you to admit what they had already known for quite some time, that the mission never really required you to go as a couple, but you couldn't be mad at them, quite the opposite, you felt a deep gratitude towards them, because you would never have been able to do it on your own. A year later, Steve had taken you to the roof of the Compound where you could see the distant lights of the skyscrapers of New York, where he had prepared you a dinner with your favorite meals and a bottle of wine and had gotten down on one knee, opening the little red velvet box with the most beautiful ring you had ever seen, he really was a 40s man, full of romance and chivalry.  Six months later you were married.

"Right, but I'm talking about a vow renewal, I just can't believe you're mine, you're like a dream" he let out, the pink painting his cheeks matching yours.  His dirty blonde hair was a mess and his eyes sparkled with pure adoration.  

"You really are full of compliments today, huh?" you smiled bringing your hand to his hair and giving it a little squeeze. You loved this Steve, he had always been romantic and protective of you, but this Steve, the one you only knew in the early morning hours was driving you crazy, the sentimental Steve, full of compliments and caresses and without shirt on. The Steve who could look into your soul with just one look and that lazy smile. The one only you knew. 

"Stop complaining, you know you love it" he said smiling mischievously, like a little boy.  

"I can't complain" you shrugged, sliding your fingers down his hard chest, imagining how good it would look with a couple of tattoos on it. You bit your lip thinking about it before returning your gaze to him, who already had his eyes on you, his eyes glowing, fingers at your waist squeezing. Before you could register what was happening, he had lunged towards you pressing his lips hard against yours, you sighed as you felt his lips sucking on yours and grabbed his cheeks pulling him closer to you, his hands taking your waist and lifting you up to get you on top of him, he bit your bottom lip asking for entrance but you put both hands on his chest putting distance between the two of you, ending the kiss and shaking your head. You still hadn't brushed your teeth. 

He grunted with discontent and pouted, completely adorable, but kept his arms around your waist. You stroked his hair and he closed his eyes, sighing. 

"I really love you" he let out, looking into your eyes, with an expression you couldn't read, he suddenly looked worried and even a little scared. "I would do anything to protect you, you know that right?". 

You frowned. 

"What is this all about?" you asked leaning your face on his chest looking into his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

He shook his head before giving you a small smile, wanting you to forget the subject. 

"It's the mission, isn't it?" you sighed.

He looked at you for a long moment and you knew the answer. 

Steve along with Fury had been tracking a dangerous organization for months that for some reason were targeting Steve. They both believed it wasn't that big of a threat. They had only sent Steve a couple of death threats, but being Captain America and part of the Avengers, there were always enemies. But when one afternoon, a threat had come to you, Steve got to work and he and Fury had been tracking the origin of these for months and now they finally had a lead.  

"It's probably nothing," he said, "don't worry about it, Fury will go with me on this one. Maybe the lead will be useless." You knew he didn't want to worry you but you couldn't help it, you wanted to go with him this afternoon but you as well as everyone else had other missions to attend to. 

You nodded and kissed his chin reassuringly. 

He placed a kiss on your forehead and released you by turning you to your side of the bed, before getting out of bed, putting on his sweatpants and putting on his white shirt. 

It was your turn to pout, missing his warm body. 

"Come on, Dollface." He said placing his palms on the mattress and leaning over to you "I'll make you those chocolate chip pancakes and when I get back from the mission we're going to watch that Jason Bourne movie you love so much."

You let out an excited squeal and hugged him by the neck pulling him back into bed.  

"You sure know how to spoil a girl."

_

Steve never returned from that mission.

That afternoon you were in the kitchen preparing popcorn for movie night with Steve and the next minute, Fury had come out of the elevator doors, concern filling his face and honestly it was the most you had ever seen him show any emotion, he had quietly approached Tony, ignoring the greetings of the team that was hanging out in the living room, he had taken him to the briefing room and they had been inside for quite a while. You had been watching the elevator doors waiting for Steve to come out of them before deciding to ask Fury, but before you could even take a step, Tony had left the room and the moment you looked at his face, your stomach sank, a horrible feeling surrounding you. You had never seen Tony like that before, the look in his eyes was something you would never be able to describe, he was pale, his eyes seemed sunken and he kept looking nowhere in particular. A few moments later that seemed like hours, he had uttered the words that broke you inside.

Steve hadn't made it.

You don't remember much after that, all you remember is popcorn strewn all over the kitchen floor, a deafening scream that you never realized you had let out, and the pain in your knees as you fell to the floor. You remember screams coming from the others, asking Tony and Fury for explanations and a lot of commotion. But what you could never forget even if you wanted to was the pain of your heart being squeezed inside you and the horrible feeling that now everything would be different.

That had been 1 year and 6 months ago. Since the news everything had been a blur. It was as if you were seeing everything from outside your body. The first few days, you didn't leave the living room couch, your gaze focused on the metal doors of that gray elevator, you didn't eat, you didn't sleep, waiting for Steve to show up with his suit dirty from the mission and the shield in his hand, telling you that it had taken a little longer than usual but that everything had gone well, that he had nothing but a few scratches on his body and that he would take a shower before cuddling up with you in bed.

The day you understood that Steve would never walk out those doors, you couldn't help but be angry at him for leaving you alone that morning after breakfast and not asking for help from the team, but more than anything you were angry at yourself for not doing anything about it. You thought it was a routine mission, just to confirm that the clue was legit. You never gave the subject much thought. You couldn't believe you had been so naive and you knew it was your fault.

The next few months after that you and the team as well as Fury had been immersed in the case, trying to track down the organization and the man responsible for Steve's death. Thousands of leads were emerging every day but they all led to a dead end. The team wasn't much better, everyone blamed each other for Steve's death but you knew it all affected Tony the most. Natasha and Wanda were there for you but Bucky was the one who were constantly with you during the first few months, supporting you and looking out for you. But you could see he was hurting too, Bucky had gone back to his old self, he was withdrawing from everyone, except you. Barely making conversation with the others and most of the time going out without telling you where he was going. You wanted to ask him about it but you knew he needed time. Hell, you needed it too. A year and a half later it seemed like everything was back to normal, even though you knew that inside you were all different people. Losing family wasn’t easy.

Thank God you had Matthew, an agent who worked at the coumpound, he had been in charge of the funeral and since then, he always made sure you were okay, at first it was small talk in the hallways, telling you how sorry he was and asking you how you were feeling, then it was little gifts, he always brought you coffee and gave you a smile when he saw you filling out reports in the briefing room, before you knew it he had become a great friend. His blue eyes and the way he treated you reminded you of Steve, and you knew you were drawn to that sense of familiarity and comfort. Then at that party, he had kissed you and although his kisses were nothing compared to Steve's, you accepted a date with him when he asked you the next day.

"Are you okay? You look distracted" Wanda's thick accent brought you out of your thoughts, you turned to look at her and her eyes were looking at you with concern.

You cleared your throat. "Yeah, I'm fine." You replied avoiding her questioning eyes, taking your necklace between your hand squeezing it. The wedding ring now taking its place on this one and not on your finger. Everyone was in the kitchen; you were sitting at the table peeling an orange and Wanda was next to you. Natasha was next to Bruce making himself a sandwich while Tony was complaining about the coffee grounds they had toss out in the sink, you let out a small chuckle, you knew it had been Sam who was sitting there reading a magazine completely ignoring Tony. Clint was spending the weekend with his family and Bucky was nowhere to be seen.

"I know this may be a difficult day for you" Wanda murmured moving closer to you, making sure no one else could hear. "We completed the mission. We arrested the bastard who..." she sighed "I know that maybe you thought this would bring you relief. But everything gets better with time, believe me I know." She had promised never to read your mind and you knew she had not. You smiled at her, you loved the fact that she knew you so well that she didn't have to use her powers to know what you were thinking.

2 days ago, the mission had been completed, they had found the person responsible for Steve's death and had dismantled the organization, surprised to find that they had some infiltrators right there working in the Compound, people you looked at every day, people who had seen you suffer and they were responsible all this time. You pushed those thoughts out of your mind quickly as you felt rage growing inside you again. You sighed deeply and remembered that Fury was taking care of it. Everything would be okay now.

"So how are things going with Matt?" Natasha asked approaching the table as she munched on her sandwich. Before you could answer, Fury appeared through the kitchen door. You frowned. It was unusual to have a visit from him at this hours of the night.

"Briefing room. Now," was all he said before turning and walking out of the kitchen. The whole team was surprised but followed him without a word. Entering the briefing room, you leaned against the wall in one of the corners waiting for Fury to speak.

"Two years ago we became aware of an existing threat that was harming one of our team. We mistakenly thought it was something minor, it wasn't until a year and a half ago that we discovered it was all part of something bigger and more dangerous. Something highly sensitive that if not handled correctly could harm us and the nation by exposing secrets of our operations."

"We already know that..." Tony began speaking, with one hand on his head, looking exhausted.

"Maria and I came up with a plan that we would put into action once we got the first lead" he interrupted, ignoring Tony's comment. "If we made them believe that they had achieved their goal, we would have an ace up our sleeve when it came to dismantling their organization, which we have done successfully, thanks to the help of this person..." he sighed and looked at the floor "I ask you to please try to understand."

I frowned, just as confused as the whole team.

"What are you talking about, sir?" You let out and he turned to look at you, sighing once more before shaking his head pointing towards the door.

"Hello, Dollface."

Everything happened in slow motion, the room filled with a deafening silence, you turned towards the door directing your gaze to the source of the voice. And if it wasn't for those blue eyes that wouldn't take their eyes off you, You knew you'd pass out right there.

Steve.

He was standing in the doorframe. And he looked different; his hair was longer, his beard covered half of his face and he looked 10 years older, he had dark circles around his eyes as if he hadn't slept since that morning when he had woken up next to you kissing your body. He was wearing a dark blue suit, and Bucky was standing next to him.

Realization fell over you and you felt your stomach sunk. Tears stung your eyes and you couldn't breathe. You walked slowly towards him, not trusting your own legs and planted yourself in front of him, he was like the ghost of the old Steve, only this one was rough around the edges, his eyes looked at you with adoration but also regret. Before he could say a word, you slapped him.

The sound of hand against cheek echoed across the room. Steve didn't seem surprised. Suddenly the whole room was filled with commotion, everyone started talking at the same time, but you couldn't take it anymore, you felt that at any moment you would fall to the floor. So you just walked out of there, but not without giving Bucky a death glare. The bastard knew it all along.

You ran to your room, ignoring the calls of Steve running after you and the commotion of the place. You locked the door to your room and locked yourself in the bathroom, where you couldn't hear Steve knocking on your door over and over again. You looked at yourself in the mirror, you were a mess, the tears wouldn't stop falling even though you didn't feel them and your face was pale, with trembling hands you ripped off the necklace with the ring and threw it on the floor before sitting down on the floor and started crying.

_

It had been a week since Steve had returned, a week that you had been avoiding him, against your better judgment you had gone to Matt's apartment where he had offered you a place to stay, the coumpound being the last place you wanted to be. You felt your body move and perform the simplest of tasks like washing the dishes, folding your clothes or even watching a movie but your mind just wasn't there, you were like a zombie, and it was already starting to affect your relationship with Matt, you knew it wasn't fair to him but you couldn't care in the slightest, not for now. You hated to admit it but you missed Steve, you missed his voice, his laugh, the way he looked at you, his kisses, his touches. And knowing he was so close to you was driving you crazy. But he had betrayed you. He knew it, he knew it all that time and he didn't tell you, he didn't dare to tell you that morning when it was just you and him. He had let you suffer for a year and a half. To hell with the plan, he had broken your heart. The next morning after he came, you had sneaked into Natasha's room and left the necklace with the wedding ring for her to give back to Steve, she tried to talk some sense into you but you had already made up your mind, after that you had left with Matt.

"I like this part, it's when she realizes the alien is with her on the ship" you heard Matt's voice speak, you two were watching a stupid sci-fi movie, your gaze on the screen but you weren't paying attention to it, your mind wandering elsewhere.

"Mmmh."

"And then she befriends the alien."

"Uh-huh."

"And then they move in together and play badminton on Sundays."

"Interesting."

"That's it" he said letting out a sigh before grabbing the remote and turning off the TV, snapping you out of your thoughts. "You're not even listening”.

Guilt wash all over you.

"Sorry, I was just a little distracted that's all." you said quickly.

He turned to look at you and gave you a smile but it didn't reach his blue eyes, which now that you took a good look at him were nothing like Steve's at all. "This isn't going to work, is it?" he finally asked but you knew he already knew the answer.

You sighed and shook your head slowly. He was a sweet boy and deserved better.

"I'm sorry" you said "I don't want you to think I'm just using you to get over Steve, I really like you, it's just... things are really complicated in my life right now" you finally admitted.

"I know" he said wiping away a tear you didn't know had escaped. "I knew from the moment I heard he was back. I can't even imagine what you're going through right now" he murmured.

You gave him a weak smile "I know I haven't been fair to you the last few days and I'm sorry, I know you deserve someone better, a woman who is completely crazy about you, and who will be because you are kind, thoughtful and deserve better than someone who is broken."

"You're not broken," He assure you. "I just think you really miss him and need him, and I'll let you in on a secret...he does too."

"Thank you, Matt." you said before getting up from the couch and grabbing the few things you had brought with you before heading for the door.

"I know this job demands a lot from us but there is nothing you two can't overcome, you are Steve and Y/n after all" he spoke behind you "just give him a chance to explain himself, you both deserve it."

You turned and gave him a small smile before walking out the door.

_

Steve was sitting at the bar, drinking his whiskey even though he knew he couldn't get drunk no matter how much he wanted to. He was twirling your wedding ring between his fingers. Ever since Natasha had given it to him he hadn't been able to take his eyes off it. Everything had gotten out of control. He took one more sip, savoring the burning sensation in his throat when he did, a hand patted his shoulder and he watched as Bucky sat down beside him.

"You're missing the party," he said sipping from his beer.

"Did you know that she's been staying at Matt's apartment these few days?" he blurted out completely ignoring his friend's earlier comment.

Bucky sighed, not quite knowing what to say.

"I remember Matt, I used to train him when he was first recruited, a good guy" he muttered "He can give her the life she deserves".

"Come on dude" bucky snorted "they've been dating for a month, it's not like they're getting married".

"It's not like she can't" Steve said "I'm sure she'll be sending me the divorce papers any minute now".

Bucky gasped.

"Impossible, she's crazy about you." He said continually shaking his head.

"I messed it up with her, Buck" he said finishing his drink before getting up and heading to his room, he was in no mood to party.

He had messed up, that morning he just thought it would be a simple mission and that he would be back that afternoon but then the lead had turned out to be more important than they had thought. Fury had told him the plan but there was no time to think about the pros and cons, they were up against the clock. So decisions were made and as much as it pained him he knew that was the only way to keep her safe, because they would come for her, of that he had no doubt. And he would do anything to protect her. Anything.

_

You could hear the faint sound of music coming from downstairs, the party was in progress as you walked down the empty hallways leading to the bedrooms, relieved that everyone was at the party and didn't see you coming. Matt’s words surrounding your thoughts, maybe what you needed was to hear it from Steve before you could move on with your life. You didn't realize that you had unconsciously made your way to Steve's room until you opened the door and looked inside, the room that for a year had been empty was now occupied by his things. With trembling hands you closed the door behind you and looked at his things, a shirt was on the bed and you couldn't help but pick it up and smell it. God, you had missed him so much.

Tears began to flood your eyes again but you were sick of crying so you left the shirt where it was and sat on the big bed, memories about that morning before he left filling your mind.

"I would do anything to protect you, you know that right?". 

You shook your head at the memory, pushing those thoughts out of your head and placed your head in your hands.

You heard the door to the room being open and you cursed under your breath. You knew you had to face him but you didn't think it would be so soon, he was supposed to be at the party, his party.

You quickly raised your head and watched him walk in, he was wearing a completely black suit, his long hair was perfectly combed back and he still had that beard, he looked like a dream, butterflies erupting in your stomach and you had to take all your willpower not to jump him. There was a lot to talk about.

He had his eyes on the floor but when he looked at you an expression of surprise covered his face. This was the last place he thought you would be. He called your name in surprise and you quickly got out of bed.

"Sneaking out of the party?" you let out a nervous laugh at his intense stare, he hadn't moved a muscle "Come on, Steve. You know that’s not nice."

Several seconds passed and he didn't speak, maybe this was a bad idea, coming to his room was a bad idea. You turned to grab your bag off the bed and get out of there when his voice spoke behind you.

"Can I hold you?" he blurted out, startling you. You turned to look at him, he had his hands shoved in his pockets and looked shy, as if he was sure you would tell him no.

Your heart skipped a beat and you nodded your head slowly. There was a lot to talk about but you missed him more than anything in the world and you needed him. Without you having to repeat it to him, he took long strides to where you were and took you in his arms, pressing you against him, burying his head in your neck and inhaling your scent, making you shiver. You slipped your arms around his neck and shoulders and held on to him, he smelled just like you remember, of his favorite cologne and mint, and now a little whiskey too. You felt tears fill your eyes and you squeeze them shut to keep them from coming out. It felt almost unreal, while he was gone you had dreamed a thousand times of holding him in your arms, you didn't think you would ever be able to feel him again, to hear his jokes, his laughter and the way your name came from his lips. It was all too much.

Just as quickly as he had walked towards you and hugged you, he broke away from you and walked to lean against the wooden door he had entered through, too far away from you for your liking, his gaze fixed on the floor and his hands in his pockets. "I need to say this, and I can't do it if you're too close to me," he let out in a hurried voice and continued, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the hurt I caused you during the time I was away, that morning I didn't know things would end up so badly, but it was worse than we thought and everyone was in danger...you were in danger. And I couldn't let them harm you because of me. There wasn't enough time to think of a better plan than the one Fury had come up with. I promised myself I would tell you I was safe but we realized there were infiltrators here in the building, I knew they would be watching your every move, I would put you in danger if I told you. So I told Bucky to look out for you. I know that it doesn't justify what I put you through but I needed you to know." He sigh closing my eyes. "I understand if you hate me, I know I ruined us and Matt is a great guy, I always knew you deserved someone who didn't have such a complicated life or put you at constant risk but please, I just want you to know... not only am I deeply in love with you, you are my best friend."

You couldn't breathe and you were aware that you were crying again, so without thinking twice, you advanced with a determined step towards him and when he looked up, you took his face with your hands wiping his tears away and planted a kiss, pushing your body to his, you took him by surprise but it only took a second for him to grab you by the hair and get you closer to his mouth. You had missed him so much, and yet it was as if you still knew his lips by heart and he knew yours, both matching perfectly. You let out a small groan as he lowered his hands to your waist and grabbed one of your thighs indicating you to jump, turning you around pushing you to the door, the new angle allowing you to kiss him better since he was much taller than you. After a few seconds you broke away to take a breath of air. You leaned your head back against the door running your fingers through his beard, taking your time to memorize him, he was the same yet so different but you definitely liked it.

"Stop looking at me like that, you're making me weak" he mumble hiding his face in your neck, his beard scratching your bare skin making you shiver and let out a giggle.

"I really like this beard, please don't ever shave it off". You sighed as he gave you little kisses on your neck, tickling you.

"Mmmh."

He planted one last kiss on your neck before you brought your legs to the floor again.

"I think you have something that belongs to me" you whispered as you reached into the small pocket of the black shirt; the small wedding ring. You had felt it when you were kissing him. You took it and placed it back on your finger. Steve looked at you confused but at the same time a full smile appeared on his face. You pressed your forehead to his and placed your hands on his chest.

"Don't leave me like that again, you scared me." You whispered to him.

"I promise I won't, Dollface" he whispered back. You knew there was still a lot to talk about but what you were completely sure of was that Steve Rogers never breaks a promise.

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

“Are you here all night?” Jason asked, “or are you planning to, you know, be a human? I think those go home sometimes.”

High above Jason’s head, a swarm of bats entered the cave, winding among the stalactites and screeching a kind of garbled response.

Dick, however, said nothing. He remained bent over one of the long tables on the cavern floor, examining a map Jason could barely see from his own seat a short distance behind, ignoring Jason and his sarcasm both. 

Jason didn’t enjoy being ignored. 

Fine. 

“I have some tasks you could take over,” he suggested, in his least helpful voice, “if you’re in the market for an excuse to keep working. I know you make those sometimes.”

Nothing.

“I have some weapons to clean, if you want to do that. You could type out all my old cases, if that works, because I only have the originals and those are hard to work with.”

Still nothing.

“Take out the trash?” Jason tried. “Wash the dishes? I put a load of laundry in a couple of hours ago, but there’s a wool jacket in the mix, so be careful what you put in the dryer.”

Dick didn’t move. Jason was enjoying himself now.

“Write a sonnet? Map the White House?” Jason held up a finger Dick couldn’t see, like he had just remembered something interesting. “I think there’s a library on 8th that exploded a few days back, so if you could just grab the rubble from the street and rebuild it by hand, that would be great.”

No reaction. 

“Whatever,” said Jason, “I’m out of here. Get some sleep maybe? I know the whole work-to-outrun-despair routine is your ‘thing,’ or whatever, but it never looks good on you. Have you considered—”

Jason cut himself off as Dick finally turned away from the table. Looking him in the eye, Jason felt suddenly and inexplicably afraid. 

“Go on,” said Dick, quietly.

“I’m just… saying that it might make things worse, to shut off and—” Jason pointed at the mound of paper on the table, “obsess over this stuff instead.”

“You think?” Dick asked. “No shit.”

Jason blinked. “Wait, are you—”

“Did you think it never occurred to me,” said Dick, “that I might be spinning out?”

“I didn’t say you were spinning out.”

“Were you thinking that maybe,” Dick leaned back against the table edge and crossed his arms, carefully casual in a way Jason didn’t like, “hey maybe I, Dick Grayson, haven’t noticed how it feels to be forty-nine hours into a case and puking in the bathroom sink?”

“I didn’t—”

“Maybe I just haven’t realized why my vision blurs out and I can’t think straight, and it’s weird how this happens—” Dick held up a hand, and Jason could see his fingers shaking, “—if I keep going for too long.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Wow, yeah, now that you mention it, this might be,” Dick said, flatly, “bad.” 

Jason glanced down at his boots to break the eye contact. “I’ll back off,” he said. “I’ll go.”

“It might be bad that I can’t sleep until I’m falling-over exhausted. Maybe I shouldn’t be taking all these cases—”

“I said I’ll back off.”

“Or writing all these notes or spending weeks on research, more than that on training—”

“Listen—”

“I probably shouldn’t be leading all these teams, huh?” Dick smiled in a way that reminded Jason of what he should have remembered before he opened his own mouth: that Dick could be very, very dangerous. “Can I get your opinion on that?”

“I’ll—”

“I KNOW!”

Jason stumbled back a step in shock. 

“I KNOW that I’m working too hard!” Dick yelled, “And I KNOW why I do it!”

“Okay!” Jason backed away again. “Okay, I get it!”

“I work so I don’t have to think! I’d rather drop dead doing this shit than stop for the millisecond it would take to feel again! Are you happy now?”

“Calm down, okay? I didn’t—”

“I don’t want to feel,” said Dick, gesturing around him, “so I’m going to stand right here over and over again.”

“Fine!”

“And I’m going to keep shutting down because it goddamn WORKS!”

Dick turned away again, bending over the table like he hadn’t said anything at all. Jason stood frozen for a moment, staring. 

“Does it?” he asked into the silence.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Do you have something better?”

Jason looked down at his own hands and saw that they were shaking too.

“No,” he said.

“Then fuck off.”

Jason turned to leave, but Dick, it appeared, wasn’t ready to let it go. 

“I’m alive,” he said. “I’m standing and walking and doing all the things that matter.”

“Yeah.” 

“I’ve had enough of— enough of asking for help and getting—” Dick jerked an arm above his head, still turned away. “I don’t want to hear that the way I live is self-destructive. I already know. That’s why I’m here, that’s what I’m saying, that’s why I’m trying.” 

“Yeah.”

“Just… show me something better, or let me self-destruct.”

Jason fumbled awkwardly for something to say. “I’m sure— I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but whoever that is— I’m sure they’re… trying to help.”

“You weren’t,” said Dick.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“You were trying to land a cheap shot,” said Dick, “and feel like you’re better than me.”

Yes, that was true. Jason wasn’t sorry, exactly, but he regretted it, and those were different things.  

“I guess that makes me an asshole.”

“And a hypocrite.” Dick turned around again and leaned back in the same way, quiet, in control. “You never stop either… not since the pit anyway.”

“Don’t.”

“I mean it’s different, obviously, because I don’t think you’re trying to hide it. Me, I don’t want cracks to show. I don’t want all this grief and anger and— you said despair, right?”

“Stop.”

“I don’t want the despair to show because I want to look whole, but you—”

“You’ve made your point.”

“You want to look like a week-old corpse rotting on the concrete, and may I say?” Dick smiled. “Excellent performance. You look exactly like that.”

Jason didn’t say anything.

“It’s a world of difference,” Dick continued, “because I— I’m pushing through pain… and you’re pushing to feel it.”

For a moment, they stared at each other, and Jason found that it was difficult to breathe. 

“I could yell back for that,” he said. It came out softly, more soft than he meant, as Jason shoved away something very close to shame.

“Do it.”

“No. I think it’s funny when people call me the angry one.” Jason looked down at his shaking hands again. 

“I am angry,” he conceded, “but you’re just as bad as I am.”

“Thematic,” Dick snapped. “Get out.” 

“No. You opened this book, so we’re going to read it. You’re right.”

“Leave.”

“You’re right, I do exactly what you just said I do. Sometimes I don’t sleep for days, and it’s not because I can’t.”

Well, that might not be fully true, so Jason stopped to backtrack.

“I mean,” he corrected, “I don’t know if I could sleep, if I really tried, but that’s the point I’m making. I don’t try. I don’t want to sleep.”

“I said leave.”

“It’ll be four in the morning and I’m slumped sideways on my couch watching surveillance footage I don’t need to watch, because I know when I finally drag myself to the bathroom mirror, I’ll look like hell—”

“Get out!”

“—and I want to! I feel like hell, I feel like goddamn Brutus in the Devil’s jaws, and I want to look like it. If I look like death, that means my pain is real.”

“Get out or regret it.”

“Oh, I know it’s self-destructive,” said Jason, smiling his best unnerving smile. “How could I miss it when I’m blacking out in stairwells and picking fights on purpose, just to get kicked around?”

That particular sentence, it appeared, caught Dick’s attention, because he stayed quiet this time, glaring from across the room.

Well then, Jason decided, it was time to push further. 

“Let’s get personal, shall we? Why do I live in this fucking city to see you or him or whoever else is living in the capes this week? I’m not shooting for reconciliation!”

“Well?”

“I’m going to stay here and cause problems until every single one of you hates me enough to shove me away. How’s my performance, by the way? Is it working? I’d love to get your opinion.”

Dick made a face that Jason couldn’t interpret, so Jason chose to press on. 

“It’ll hurt when I pull that off because I do actually care about you, but you know what? I’ll like that. Maybe someday all of this will kill me, and I’ll kind of like that too.” 

Jason paused a beat to let Dick interject, but Dick didn’t. 

“Your turn,” said Jason pleasantly. “Thoughts?”

Nothing.

“I like the aesthetic of self-destruction,” said Jason. “I’m going to look in the mirror tomorrow and see dark circles and scars, and it’s going to feel like being myself in a way that nothing else does.”

In that moment, watching Dick glare, Jason felt very tired— not in a way that sleep could solve, and not in a way that anyone could fix. No matter what Jason did, no matter what he tried, he could always feel himself sinking. He was empty and heavy at the same time, somehow trapped in place, unable to do anything except lie in his own blood.

A rotting corpse indeed.

“I’m not judging you,” said Jason. “I don’t have the space for that. I won’t tell you to just… change. I’m sick of hearing that too, hearing that I don’t have to do this to myself, that I am doing this to myself.”

Dick nodded. Jason wasn’t sure at what, but it felt like permission to keep going, so he did.

“I know I’m holding on to something I shouldn’t,” Jason admitted, even though it hurt to say out loud. “I know, but I can’t let go when there’s nothing else to take. I don’t have anything profound to say. I don’t… know what else there is.”

That was it. That was all Jason had, so he shrugged and stared down at the floor, waiting.

“I think if I stop working I’ll fall apart,” said Dick, finally, “and this time I won’t be able to scrape myself together.”

“Yeah.”

“I think fine, so I don’t have to keep going. I don’t have to shove away the dark and force myself through, but what would happen if I didn’t?”

“I don’t know.”

“I would be a shivering, hollow shape on my floor, maybe forever. I don’t know what I want to be, but I can’t be… I can’t be only that.” 

Jason understood.

“It’s hard,” said Dick. “I always hear— and say, I say this to other people— that things can be okay. I guess it’s true, but does it matter?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Unless I leave the cave right now and never come back, this is my life. I have an apartment and a fucked-up family—”

“Thanks.”

“—and I spend every night jumping through smog and the ghosts of everything I’ve ever done.”

“Saving people,” Jason noted.

“Win some,” said Dick, “lose some. How many times have you watched a person die?”

“A few.”

“A few.” Dick shook his head. “I know too much, but I have too much to leave behind.”

“I have a guy who makes passports on demand, if you change your mind,” said Jason. “He’s amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“Prints while you wait.”

Dick shot Jason a flat kind of look.

“What?” Jason asked. “It would simplify my plans.”

Dick half-smiled at that, and Jason got the sense that they were done yelling, maybe, for awhile.

“I feel trapped, and I don’t know how to fix myself,” said Dick, “while I’m still… here.” 

“Yeah.”

“I’m just trying to stay alive.”

“I know. Me too.”

“It isn’t getting any easier.” 

Jason thought about that for awhile. It would be nice to have an answer— something simple to say, some match to light in their common ground— but Jason couldn’t find one, so he shrugged again and hoped that understanding would be enough. 

It had to be something, didn’t it?

It was the best he could do. There were times, Jason figured, to talk about breathing exercises and the mess of self-help books piled on his dresser, but he knew this wasn’t one of them. They could call it catharsis, he decided, and leave it at that. 

“We could say it’s Bruce’s fault?” Jason suggested, since he was out of other ideas. “I like blaming Bruce for the shit I do.”

“You do?”

“Fuck off.”

Dick smiled fully at that one. “I’m not above it either.”

“Great,” said Jason. “Can I leave a note saying we blame him? No context at all, maybe on a single post-it? I think it would be really funny.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll bounce after that, for real this time.” Jason spun a finger in a circle a few times, pointing around the cave. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Yeah.” Dick tapped a finger against the table a few times, like he was thinking. After a moment, he pulled a bag from the edge and started packing up his things. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, me too.”

Fin.

---

art by @doc-squash​

[bigskydreaming]

Hi, I was reading your post about Jason punching Dick in the face when Dick revealed he fake his death was bullshit ( which it was) and it reminded me of an issue/question that has bothered me for sometime.

Why did people believe Dick was actually dead?

I’m not the most avid comic reader so maybe I missed something but it was always weird to me that everyone just accepted this especially given how Bruce was acting or should I say wasn’t acting.

This is a man when his child died another child had to come along and told him sir you are being too violent and emotional you need supervision. When his other child died he went all over the universe to bring him back to life because he knew it was possible ( which was happening at the same time), so why didn’t anyone think it was weird he wasn’t doing that for Dick. Can you imagine Dick really dying that soon after Damian it would be injustice Batman Version. You are telling me that Tim, Jason or Barbara didn’t think it was weird that Bruce didn’t also bring Dick’s corpse to the bring Damian back to life mission or mention it to themselves. Like what more likely Dick dead and Bruce is handling it well or that he fake his death to do something stupid and Dangerous after his partner/brother/ little bit my son the feelings are complicated died after he was knocked out and woke up to his corpse.

Oh man, this is like, the entire nature of my beef?

(Slight derail just to emphasize the fact real quick that Dick DID actually die, he was just revived quickly, but like, the trauma of his death was very real and its not like anyone was clued into Luthor having a resurrection backdoor built into his literal murder of Dick in the actual moment of it happening. So Dick’s death wasn’t fake, and additionally, he didn’t have anything to do with like, telling people about it, because he was literally comatose in the cave and recovering while Bruce was telling people....by the time Dick woke up in the cave, we already know that Alfred at least had already been convinced by Bruce that Dick was dead, so I have a kneejerk need to pushback against the Dick faked his death narrative by reminding people wherever possible that Dick had no agency in the spreading of that narrative. 

It happened without him being involved, and the only actual contribution he ever made to it was just not revealing he was alive before Grayson #12, after Bruce like.....emotionally, mentally and physically badgered him into accepting that doing so would be directly harmful to his family and he didn’t want to be the reason more people died when like, people had just died because he ‘let’ himself be captured and interrogated by Power Woman’s Lasso of Submission, did he?

SORRY TO BE PEDANTIC, just wanted to start this off on a clarification, even though I know the aim of your ask was very much in tune with the rest of my response. A lot of people don’t read the actual comics, so like, I’m never gonna skip over an opportunity to emphasize that the shorthand people use to refer to Dick’s death and the year he was with Spyral, is like, literally just shorthand for describing it. Its not actually an accurate description of how all that went down and who had the most hand in it).

BUT ANYWAY. BACK TO THE MEAT OF THE BEEF.

Okay so like, not only was the entire family and Bruce himself giving Dick shit for his death and Spyral, like, PAINFULLY egregious because it was literal victim blaming in every possible sense of the word....

None of it made a LICK of sense with ANY of their characterizations, and they ONLY all accepted it on face value because the Plot Demanded It, and when you're like, no, as a reader I say The Plot Demanded It is not a good enough reason for me to be like well sure, that makes sense......looking at the characters ACTUAL actions at face value pretty much just makes them all look like assholes?

Like, Tim has never gracefully accepted anyone's death. Ever. This is core characterization for him. He will go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones and to bring them back, prove they're not dead, refuse to let death be the final verdict for them. He was tempted to use the Lazarus Pit to bring his parents back to life. He refused to accept Bruce was dead long before he had any proof whatsoever of that theory. He tried to clone his BFF/future-husband Kon in his fucking basement like, dude was two whole inches away from going Full Dark Side in his quest to bring back a lost loved one no matter WHAT the cost.....and then you've got Dick unmasked onscreen, killed offscreen, and Bruce then reporting to the rest of them with zero inflection 'oh Dick's dead now. Its very sad' and Tim's just like, sure. Sounds legit.

I mean?!?!

And you're SO RIGHT ABOUT THE DAMIAN THING! Bruce LITERALLY LITERALLY LITERALLY went BEYOND the ends of the Earth, like, he full on chartered a fucking space ship to fly his whole family out to APOKOLIPS to bring Damian back from the dead by going to EXTREME lengths.....WHILE everyone else thought Dick was dead....

And not a single person looked at Bruce and was like, okay, not that we're not down to do this for Damian because we miss Stabby Smurf something fierce ourselves, but.....what the fuck is UP with you dude? Why aren't you displaying ANY hint of this same kind of energy in regards to your eldest son that you said you watched die right in front of you?

Like....I don't know that we were actually ever told that Dick's coffin was empty or had a fake in it, but like....this family of detectives who refuse to accept death, defy death, COME BACK FROM THE DEAD....not a single one of them said like, okay, if I'm gonna like, ACCEPT accept that Dick is dead and gone for good, I need to at least just see him one last time? That's literally all it would have taken for someone to realize hey something's a little wonky here. Where's the dead body, Pops?

Since when has Jason ever missed an opportunity to prove Bruce is a) full of shit, b) acting like an emotionless robot and all his kids deserve better especially when they've just like....died, c) just factually incorrect and wrong and jumped to a conclusion before it was conclusively proved, d) lying like a liar or e) all of the above?

Nobody even ASKED if Dick's body could be put in a Lazarus Pit? Yeah, Jason wouldn't necessarily recommend it himself, given what it put him through, but actually fuck that, I take that back, because I'm NOT actually of the opinion that Jason full on hates his life and actively spends every second of every day wishing he hadn't been resurrected, even if it had come with a huge buffet of additional trauma and pain.

And that's kinda what's implied when people just take it for granted that he would never be on board with any scenario involving using a Lazarus Pit to bring Dick back, because it suggests that based even just on his own experiences and feelings, he honestly believes Dick would prefer being dead and not have ANY further opportunities to be with his loved ones, his friends, help save the damn world again at some future point.....that Jason, projecting based just off himself, legit feels Dick would rather be dead than have another shot at life even WITH the downsides of Lazarus Pit usage? Nope. Sorry, I don't buy it.

Speaking of not buying it.....you know what was missing from all those soliloquies the others monologued at Dick about how they felt and were hurt and just devastated by his death, to such a point they can't seem to muster a single shred of happiness that he's NOT dead still -

(seriously, Damian was the ONLY person in ALL THE LANDS OF EMOTION-HAVING who expressed ANY kind of positive reaction to having Dick back. We were so fucking cheated of like.....ANY opportunity to have the characters show just how much they valued him by just being fucking HAPPY he was alive, no matter what else was involved....and then most of fandom compounded that by for years being like mmmm, no, Dick didn't get yelled at enough by his family for what HE put THEM through. Needs more yelling. More punching too. Bad Dick. Bad. This is the only way you'll learn not to die and get shipped off on a mission that you don't want but at least is to protect your family after being beaten into it by your dad whilst victim blaming you for dying in the first place. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE AND THEIR FEELINGS FOR A CHANGE, DICK?!?)

- But like, BUT I DIGRESS aside....you know what was missing from all those monologues about how hard DICK'S death and ensuing year of basically exile from his loved ones was for EVERYONE BUT HIM?

We never got a single line of explanation as to what everyone else officially thinks even happened to him in the first place?

Like, did Bruce straight up just say oh bad news kids, your brother umm. Expired. Spontaneously. There's no one to blame, he just keeled over, its all very sad.

Is that how that went down?

You're telling me that the explanation of Dick's death didn't come with a single pointed finger at someone for this family of blame-happy vigilantes to like, BLAME for the loss of this brother they all mourned oh so much, they just couldn't help but blame him for all the hurt it caused them?

The family that in every other fic is like OBSESSED with avenging and being avenged and all things vengeful and even tangentially vengeance-y....like didn't ask for a single detail on whomst the fuck deprived us of our brother-having?

Where were the attempts on Luthor's life by Jason (who I mean, yeah I know it was in a previous continuity, but erasing that timeline doesn't erase my awareness of the time Dick killed Jason's murderer so like.....mmm, just saying, woulda been nice)....where was the rage directed at the Crime Syndicate and references to how seriously and personally the Batfam took making sure that they were PUNISHED for all this and would never be free to wreak havoc on their world or their family again? What did they tell Damian when he came back to life, and how are you going to tell me that this fraternal little ball of fury didn't aim himself like a cannonball at whomever the fuck had DARED take HIS Batman from him when Damian wasn't around to have his back?

Not only does everyone else's desire to be avenged start falling really flat the second you factor in hey maybe Dick feels "mmm what about MY avenging" sometimes, and why doesn't anyone ever care about doing that for him.....but also, y'know what REALLY sucks about the ONLY person we actually SEE being blamed for Dick's death and ensuing absence being like....Dick himself?

Not only were his family all super keen on making all of this HIS fault and HIM the bad guy because of how it made them all feeeeeeel (and meanwhile fuck his feelings, am I right Batfam hfaklshfklahfkla).....

They somehow found a way to justify prioritizing this OVER ever even getting around to blaming some villain for his death in the FIRST place, in the entire year or so they thought he was still dead!

Like, you couldn't come up with a single target in all that time, but Dick's back two seconds, and you don't even give him a chance to EXPLAIN before you're punching him, shutting him down with 'I expected better from you' and turning away with 'I don't want to hear it, why am I surprised Dick Grayson disappointed me again'?

afshklfhalfhalfhla

Make it make sense!

And like, it won't, cuz it doesn't, and it never will, and like I said at the top, the ONLY reason it all played out this way is because DC doesn't give a fuck about character development and deemed it necessary to go down this way for the sake of the plot (which was totes worth it, I mean, glad we sacrificed characters for this A+ plot which was clearly the greatest plot of all time and definitely justified every story choice made or not made around it loooool).

BUT.

BUT BUT BUT.

The problem isn't JUST that DC is stupid, even though that is an eternal mood and quite the problem.

Its that the SECOND large parts of fandom decided to play along with DC and just accept the story at face value, only add to it and play into it exactly as it happened in canon with no significant deviations, and like, heaping on the LITERAL abuse from Dick's siblings while ignoring the LITERAL abuse from his father....

THAT....is when all of this becomes relevant.

Because the second people decided TO engage with the reasoning DC gave for what Bruce did and how and what Dick did and how and just not mess with any of that and have it all play out exactly like that...

The second people are like, okay we're FINE with not just dismissing this story as OOC writing that doesn't make any sense, and actually VALIDATING it to various degrees by engaging with it as is....

That's when 'OOC writing' stops being an excuse or explanation for alllll of the above gaps in character logic and actions.

Because its like, when you had abundant chance to REJECT this story and say nope, this was bullshit from start to finish and I'm not here for it, when you were just as capable of transforming literally ANY aspect of this story you didn't like into something that made more sense to you....

And you chose not to.

That's.....accepting it as valid writing. You were like, okay, I'm game to just treat this as a thing that happened, just like they said that happened.

For the chance to give Dick shit for it, see. For the angst, see.

And that's when I'm like okay cool, so when engaging with this story as is and accepting it on face value and just delving into the characters as they were SHOWN interacting with and around these events......for the angst or whatever....

You guys just all decided en masse to just hop, skip and jump over allllllllll the opportunities for angst inherent in examining even ANY SINGLE ONE of the above lapses in judgment or hypocrisy on the parts of the characters (who don't get to be excused by OOC writing if you're not going to call the story an example of OOC writing, whoops).

And its just like, uh, what's up with that?

[kingburu]

 Jason wakes up.

 His eyes flutter open to darkness. The air is stale around him—and shallow, as he draws a breath. He looks around, trying to gather his surroundings.

 Almost immediately, Jason hits his head when he tries to sit up. There’s a dense BONK of his head, followed by a soft, “Ow,” from his lips. The word is raw at the back of his throat, almost an inaudible whisper. Jason brushes a hand to his forehead, eyes squeezing shut—but nothing changes as he opens his eyes.

 He reaches out with his other hand and finds a velvety surface in front of him. To the left of him. To the right.

When Jason draws a breath, his lungs shudder. Not only is the air stale—but it’s shallow. There isn’t enough space to stretch the wingspan of his arms. To move around. He’s enclosed in darkness, and his chest already aches with his second breath.

 Jason finds his palm at his chest. His eyes graze the surface of his surroundings—and slowly, he lets a current ripple through the tips of his fingers. The scent of dead skin fills his nostrils, and he wrinkles his nose ever so slightly.

 Velvet darkness beneath the static of his fingers. Jason spits to find out where he’s positioned—which turns out to be on his back, as his own saliva dribbles down his mouth instead. He’s dehydrated. The back of his throat is as dry as a bone—which is when he wonders the last time he had water. The last time he ate, as his stomach aches.

 Jason presses against the top of his prison-hold, which doesn’t budge at his palm. He reaches to either side of him as far as he can (it isn’t—he can hardly bend his arms at the elbows), which feel as stiff as everything above him. He tries to jostle the container—but it doesn’t move. Jason wiggles onto his stomach with gracious effort—and his hands meet more soft velvet. A pillow, even. His fingers touch something wrinkled and rotted, like dry grass—which fall apart between his fingers.

 Twisting back into his original position proves to be a feat.

 Jason stares into the darkness of his velvet prison—and the air only feels thinner.

 There isn’t much oxygen wherever he is. He’ll die of suffocation if he doesn’t find a way out.

 And death…feels cold. Terrifying.

 Jason rifles through his clothes. He finds himself in light linens—something of Greek or Roman garb. There’s nothing to him. No knife, no sword—no weapon.

 “Okay,” he whispers to himself. He swallows hard to find some sort of hydration, then runs his fingers across the corners of his prison. There’s enough there that he can surmise a hard surface beneath the velvet—and if the surface is hard, then it has to be lined. If it’s lined, he can rip it.

 Jason grabs a fistful of fabric and yanks. It doesn’t budge—not right away. He twists his grip and pulls as hard as he can, until a loud RIIIIIIIIIIP fills his ears. 

 The next layer proves to be harder. Jason lights his fingers once more with a ribbon of electricity—which ricochets off his fingers—

 “Jumping Jupiter,” Jason hisses, as the flash of lightning slams into the—wood? 

 Smoke fills his nostrils, singeing the material above him. 

 Okay. Wood. 

 Jason presses his palms against the hard surface, to feel for a latch or a handle. Nothing. He has no weapon. Sparking the wood might start a fire—and Jason’s breath is shallow enough as it is.��

 He thinks back to basic combat training—before his gladius, before his javelin. Before Jason could ever even light a spark—when Lupa reminded him his own body was a weapon. 

 He punches as hard as he can. Nothing budges. 

 Again, another punch. The sound bounces off his surroundings, and his container vibrates. 

 “Hello?” Jason calls out. His voice is raspy. “Is there anyone there?” 

 Nothing. 

 Jason rips the fabric as far as he can. It proves to be difficult as his elbows bend. Which each movement, he feels warmth grow around him. Heat, from moving. 

 And again, Jason punches. He slams his fist as hard as he can I to the lid of his prison until it folds beneath his weight. There’s a give as his fist makes impact, and he feels the small bend from his fist. 

 “Just a couple more,” Jason whispers to himself. 

 He slams another fist into the wood—again and again, as it cracks in front of him, until his fingers burn with pain. It’s…harder, than Jason expects, exerting himself. He’s panting before he knows it—and grows light headed with each movement. Sweat mats his brow. 

 Before his final blow, Jason retracts his arm. His hand bristles with electricity—and he delivers one last hit. 

 CRAAAAAAAAAAAAACK 

 The wood breaks and singes from his fist, until his knuckles hit something cold. 

 Dirt falls on his face immediately. 

 Jason chokes as gravel and soil slams him in the head—and it burns as it reaches his eyes. Dirt spews on him like a waterfall, gushing against his face. Jason tries to plug the hole with his palm, but soil falls between the curves of his fingers. 

 He coughs and gasps for air as his lungs burn, and as his eyes feel like they’re on fire. The realization hits him quickly. 

 Jason’s buried underground like a corpse. 

 How? 

 It takes ages to reorient himself. Jason tries to rub the dirt out of his eyes, but his fingers are caked with soil. His mouth tastes like earth, and his throat feels like it’s on fire. 

 “One more time, Grace,” he mutters. If he doesn’t get out, he’s going to die of suffocation—dirt or not withstanding. 

 He counts to three. 

 One. 

 Two. 

 Three. 

 Jason takes in one last breath. He pulls his hand away and blows as he can at the falling dirt. Soil pollutes his small entrapment and he closes his eyes a second too late—but Jason forces his body up. He sits up as fast as he can—which almost feels like another THONK—and pushes his fingers through the falling dirt. He pries it apart and climbs through what he can as it fills his container. A slab of wood carves his side as he pushes through more dirt.

 There’s only darkness. Jason pushes and peels, while dust permeates around him and his lungs burn. Jason’s legs feel like putty as he pushes forward. The dust alone is enough to make him nauseous. Jason wants to puke as he feels around—for—for something. His head is dizzy from the force. Jason pushes and climbs and peels around him—until at some point, the tips of his fingers hit something different.

 Air?

 Jason’s eyes bristle with a different darkness. His head is dizzy as he tries to wriggle his arms. His limbs feel weak—and his head plunges with a heaviness.

 Before he can pass out, something touches his hand and gives him a forceful yank.

 “JASON!” he hears—the first time he’s heard his name in what feels like ages. “Jason—hold on, buddy—”

 Cold air hits Jason in the face like a whip. He rasps for air, with dirt on his tongue, and his face emerges from the dirt like an overgrown plant. His body isn’t his own as someone—two someones—pull him out of dirt. The air clears his lungs so quickly that it’s intoxicating—and he’s drunk on both sunlight and oxygen.

 Two sets of eyes stare at him, stunned. Jason…recognizes the roundness of one of the silhouettes, and the warm honey eyes of the other—even if it’s blurred under a layer of dirt. They stare at him in horror.

 They…look different. Older.

 “Frank?” Jason whispers softly. His gaze falls to the other person. “Hazel?”

 His taller savior is speechless—staring at him in shock.

 HIs shorter one, with the honey-colored eyes snaps out of it first, her hand flying to her mouth.

 “Jason,” she whispers, her voice wobbly. “You’re—you’re alive. How—?”

 Alive? Jason tries to make out the rest of their surroundings—but he can’t.

 He passes out.

 It’s not until later that he learns that he dug himself out of his own grave.

[ellana-ravenwood]

“Mom got lost again” - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Little snippets about how “Batmom” (reader) will never find her way in the Mansion. But it’s fine, really, because she can always count on her husband and children to “save” her.  //DRABBLE

So. I was watching one of those “Architect’s digest” video on YouTube where they visit houses that are millions and millions of dollars worth, and besides the fact that I was thinking “wow look at all those beautiful things I’ll never be able to afford”, I couldn’t shake another thought off…and that was that I would totally get lost in many of those houses. Like, the way some are designed, they’re literally Dedalus’ labyrinth my dudes. So anyway, here’s not-really-a-fic-nor-a-drabble for you, a sort of snippet kind of thing, about this. Hope you’ll like it : 

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

Before the kids

“Hey Alfred, where’s (Y/N) ?”

He asks, one early evening as he just got home from work and knows you were going to meet up with him at his place.

“Oh Lady (Y/L/N) wanted to go see the library, so I took her there.”

“Thank you.”

Bruce arrives in the library, but you’re nowhere to be found. Wondering where you went he calls you but it seems like your cell don’t have any battery anymore. He starts to walk around the West Wing, looking in every room and…Finally, he finds you.

You’re sitting down against a wall in the corridor, looking discouraged, staring at your dead phone. You spot him and jump to your feet, looking very relieved. You then rush in Bruce’s arms, he catches you in extremis and you exclaims :

“Oh my god ! Bruce ! I love you !”

Insert a lot of kisses on his cheeks a really huge hug, as if you haven’t seen him in ages. But I mean, getting lost any place is sort of distressing, and you looooove that man. So much.

A little confuse, although always happy to have your affection, he asks : 

“What…is going on ?”

“I got lost…”

“You got lost ?”

"You have a very big house.”

Highly amused, Bruce responds : “I do.”

“So I got lost.”

“Ah. And what were you doing sitting there ?”

“Well…My parents always taught me to stay where I was, if I ever got lost somewhere, so when they’d came to look for me we’d be sure to see each others instead of passing right next to each others a thousand times…”

Bruce can’t help but burst out in laughter. Even more so that you genuinely looks like a kid that got separated from her parents. And oh, oh you love his laughter. 

It’s always a feat, when you can hear it. Especially when it comes from the heart like right now, when he genuinely laughs this deep beautiful laugh, because he’s happy. Because you make him happy. 

He’s not laughing at you, he just laughs because...You’re too much sometimes. 

And exactly what he needs. Too much is good, for a man like him.

He takes your hand and shows you around one more time. 

But he can see that even so, you can’t seem to remember the layout of the house, and you getting lost will happen again for sure. 

And he’s right. He showed you around his manor so many times, yet it seems you just can’t remember certain places. Like you memorized the places you go the most, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, access to the Batcave...and most of the time you find your way around easily (albeit sometimes still a little lost). 

But there’s entire areas of the house you try not to venture in or...it ends with Bruce coming to your rescue. Or Alfred. But he usually leaves Bruce to do it, as the man just...loves the way you two love each others. 

It’s always rather cute. And it warms the butler’s heart. 

Never in his wildest dream would he ever have thought that his Master Bruce would find someone like you. Someone accepting and understanding, and loving him unconditionally. And someone that Bruce loved fully in return, and whom he cherished above all. 

Yes. Alfred often let Bruce go on the hunt for you across the Manor, simply because he shipped you both since the very first time he saw you together, and he thoroughly enjoyed when his Master Bruce was acting like a lovesick puppy around you. When he was acting like a “normal” man, just hopelessly in love with his wife. 

And it was so pure, and beautiful.

So what if sometimes you’d wait a little long, lost in those endless corridors ? Alfred knew that Bruce would find you. Always. And that when he did, as usual, you would make Bruce’s heart melt, and he’d feel happy just by seeing you and...honestly it was all wort it. 

Bruce sometimes suspect you do it on purpose. That you get lost just so he can find you. And honestly ? He really doesn’t mind... 

Saved by the little bird

"Over a year of living here, I swear I still can’t...where...wait, didn’t I just pass this damn yet-again-another-living room ?! Aaaah what the fuck why is everything looking the same. Fucking shit. What a shitastrophy. Fucking cockburger son of a bitchtits little f-”

“Um...Are you ok, mom ?”

Oh sssshhhh...Alfred wouldn’t be happy with you for swearing around your young son. Dick was only eight, after all. 

He had started to call you “mom” since very recently, and it always made your heart skip a beat. Made you feel utterly happy. 

As the boy came in behind you from the corridor, you were about to kick a potted plant out of frustration (another thing that Alfred wouldn’t be very happy about). You turn around, slowly get your foot back on the floor, and say : 

“Um. I got um...Lost...” 

“Lost ?” 

“Yes...I just...can’t get used to the size of this house. I wanted to get something that Alfred said was in the East wing, which is somewhere I never really go. And um...”

“You got lost.”

“Yes. Don’t make fun of me ok, your dad is already enough.” 

“I wasn’t going to make fun of you !” 

Your son says, a little virulently, as if offended you’d ever think such a thing ! You smile at him, because how sweet could this kid get really ? 

“Alright little buddy, sorry I ever made such an assumption. So, if you’re not gonna mock me...maybe you can save me then ?”

“Save you ?” 

“Well, I’m lost. And you don’t seem lost.” 

“That’s because I’m not, I always found my way out of the labyrinths in fun fairs very easily !” 

He tells you, smiling widely, excited at the prospect of helping you. 

“Where do you need to go ?” 

“Let’s try to get to the kitchen.” 

“I know the way ! Come on !” 

He takes your hand in his little one, and drags you behind him, leading you across corridors and rooms up until...

“Here !” 

He tells you, smiling widely. And it’s so cute, because he’s missing a few teeth and his smile is just so pure...You just want to squish his little face and hug him to death. 

“Ah my savior ! What can I ever repay you with ?” 

You ask, taking an overdramatic tone of voice, knowing little Dickie always loved when you two played pretend and such. He takes the gruffest voice he can and says : 

“Well, my lady can repay me with...um...Cookies, yes I think cookies will do !” 

“Cookies ? Well this sounds fair, for this dashing saving you just did ! Macadamia or chocolate chip ?” 

“Both ?” 

“Both it is !” 

It happened many times, that you paid your oldest son with cookies, after he saved you from getting lost in your own house...Even as an adult, he’d demand payment of fresh cookies, and then would go show them off to his siblings, refusing to share, as the “good” older brother he was haha. 

Lost together

You find Jason in one of the many gaming room, while you were trying to get to the kitchen. You know for a fact that there are no gaming rooms on the way to the kitchen, but you can’t really figure out where you messed up...Was it when you went left after the third bathroom ? Or when you took the stairs down right before one of the mezzanine ? Wait, did that mezzanine have a piano ? Because if it did then it was the right way, if it didn’t, then you were on the other side of the damn house. Or maybe just right next to...Yeah ok. Lost again. 

But you found Jason. 

Maybe he could help ? 

The boy was sitting in a huge comfortable leather armchair, reading a book. When he heard you come in the room, he snapped his head up and a huge smile illuminated his cute little face. 

“Finally ! Mom !” 

He jumps off the armchair, putting down his books, and goes to jump in your arms. Then he says : 

“I was trying to go to the arcade room ! Because I wanted to beat your high score on Tekken, but I always only followed someone there, and I can’t find it anymore...” 

Ah. The arcade. One of the only room you sort of knew where to find...If you started from the front door. Or your bedroom. Not from a random room god knew where in the mansion. 

Why was this house so big ??? 

“I’m sorry to bother you with this, I know I should’ve paid more attention when Alfred showed me, but it’s just-”

Oh no. Oh no the little one was looking at you worryingly, probably because you weren’t responding, and he thought he was being a pain. 

Little Buddy always thought he was bothering people...So hurriedly, you said : 

“Oh no no Jason, you’re not bothering me at all ! It’s just um..I’m um...I’m sort of lost too.” 

“You are ?”

“I am.” 

“Really ?” 

“Really.” 

“Well damn.” 

“Haha right ? Usually your father or Dick would save me. Or Alfred.”

“Yeah same.”

“I actually rarely walk around alone now that I think about it.” 

“Yeah same !”

There’s a short pause, where you look at each others and smile at this little moment. And then, as you slowly both realize that you’re lost, IN YOUR OWN HOME, and the ridiculousness of the situation down on you, you explode in laughter. 

You end up getting back to the armchair, and Jason settles comfortably in your lap as you continue to read the book he was reading, out loud, and he listens to you happily. Nobody ever really read him stories before you and Bruce... 

Bruce finds the both of you later in the day, fast asleep in the armchair, Jason latched on your arm as you hug him to you. 

He finds the sight so adorably charming. He sits down next to the two of you, enjoying this moment of quiet and peace. And then he picks up the book you were reading, reading it himself...Ah. It’s one of his favorite childhood book. 

He reads it, waiting for you two to wake up, not wanting to disturb your sleep. 

It’s rare, that he has some free time. And he really doesn’t mind spending it watching over his sleeping wife and son, waiting for them to wake up and guide their way back to the part of the house they know...

Damn. Damn he loves them so much. 

"I memorized the blueprints” 

“And see, here’s a secret passage !” 

The boy says excitedly, as he shows you and Bruce a hidden door in one of the wall, behind a heavy tapestry. 

“...Wait...I didn’t even know that was there...How did...What ?” 

Your husband asks, half-confused, half-impressed, with maybe a little hint of hurt pride in there as well...it’s his house after all. 

“I memorized the blueprints of the house that are in the library.” 

The little one says, smiling widely at his new father. Bruce responds : 

“I have those blueprints, I never saw this secret passage ever in my life.” 

“You must have the “official” blueprints, the one Allan Wayne gave to others. The blueprints in the library, the ones I found, were tucked away inside one of the book and showed more than the “official” ones. Your great-great-great-great-great grandfather was a very paranoid man, I assume he pulled a Madame Winchester on the builders.” 

“Madame Win...Huh ?” 

“You know, famous Winchester mansion ? Super haunted ? She gave instructions to many different people to build certain things and there isn’t really blueprints that shows a correct layout of everything ?”

“Right...Sure...” 

“I assume you were too busy building the bat cave to really pay attention to the house. But it’s quite a wonder ! There’s so many new secrets I haven’t discovered yet !” 

A soft, tender smile spreads on your husband’s face as he looks down at Tim. Bruce says : 

“That’s quite a discovery you found there my boy, and you say you memorized it already ?” 

“It was easy, I just had to keep in mind the-”

And then Tim started to get lost in long complicated explanation that you didn’t understand, while your husband seemed very interested. 

You couldn’t help but smile. How cute...

Today, you were sort of glad, that you got very lost in your own home again, and got saved by little Timmy. He hadn’t lived in the house for very long by that time, but already knew it even better than Bruce, apparently. 

It was so nice, to have such a sweet little on in your life again...Dick hadn’t been by in a while, busy with the titans. And Jason...

You didn’t want to think about Jason. 

Or at least, not in the way you would end up thinking about him. You wanted to remember his smiles, and how he always got lost too in this house. Not...Not...the broken body Bruce brought back...You...

You shooed the memory away, and focused on your son. 

Tim was now going on and on about how he found really cool places that weren’t on the normal blueprints, and how he wanted to show Bruce and you. 

And Bruce was smiling. For the first time in ages. Your husband was smiling, faced with such an excited little one. 

So yes. Yes, today you were glad you got lost in your own home, and that your tiny son found you and showed you the way. That it lead you to ask him how the hell was he that fast in memorizing the house’s layout, and then him explaining things about the blueprints. 

And consequently, how Bruce and him started to truly bond, started to talk about the house and about the Wayne legacy...

It was nice. To finally see your husband smile again. Propelled by a sudden surge of motherly love, you hugged Tim tight, and the boy, a bit confused at first, hugged you back without much questions. 

And this sight. 

His wife and his son hugging. 

It warmed Bruce’s heart in a way his heart hadn’t been warmed since he lost Jason. 

Yes. It was good, that sometimes you’d get lost in your own damn house. 

This is a fun game

By the time Cassandra came into your life, this “mom got lost again” thing became sort of a game. It was about who would find you first, when they realized you were lost. 

You’d be gone a little too long after saying : “I’m gonna go get the ice cream in the freezer”, and they knew. It was time to set a party to find you. 

“3, 2, 1...GO !” And they’d run in each different direction, searching for you. 

The winner gets cookies. Baked by you... 

Cass liked that game. 

Because even if she lost, she would’ve spend quality times with her family. Fun times. Looking for her beloved mother. 

Mother. 

The only mother she ever had. 

Mom. 

It’s a word that always easily rolled off her tongue. 

Mom. 

“Found, mom.” 

You jumped a little in the air, as your only daughter suddenly appeared out of nowhere. She was looking at you upside down, and it took you a little bit to realize she was actually dangling off in a very spider-man way off of the floor just above. She must’ve heard your footsteps (or more likely, your growls about being lost again). 

She jumped off, and you felt your heart stop, suddenly fearing she would fall down but..Not, she agilely jumps over the rail, and is in front of you, smiling. 

Finding you was Cass’ favorite game. Because when she did, you’d always look at her fondly, give her a hug, and praise her for being the best.

And for someone like Cassandra, who grew up treated like an emotionless machine by a man who never viewed her as more than a weapon...it felt nice, to have such a loving person in her life. 

When Cass thought of you, her mind filled with bright colors, and her heart with warmth. Because she grew up never learning how to speak, her thoughts didn’t quite work in words like most people, but in colors and temperatures. 

And you, you were reassuring colors and soothing warmth. 

Mom. 

Such a simple word. Yet it took her a while to be able to even say it. 

Now she could speak, in big thanks to you. And her father.

She loved you guys so much. So much. 

She loved you. 

“Mom.” 

She says, reaching a hand for yours. And you take it, smiling once more, shaking your head and apologizing that you made her look for you...Oh. 

Oh but she doesn’t mind. None of them do. 

Because when they find you. When they “save you”, you always look at them with such unconditional love. No matter what. 

Finding you is Cass’ favorite game. 

It always leaves her feeling nice and warm, loved and safe. 

Finding you is Cass’ favorite game. 

And one day, she’ll be able to tell you all of that. One day, she’ll be able to tell you to never apologize, because she loves to look for you. She loves you. 

One day. One day she’ll talk to you about all of this. 

But for now, it was fine for both of you that her feelings translated in only smiles, affectionate touch, and one very important word...

“Mom”. 

“I won’t let you get lost !” 

Damian hated the mere idea of you being in any kind of distress. 

ANY kind. 

So when he learned that you would often get lost in the Manor, and even as everyone assured him it just sort of became an inside joke within the family, your youngest son took it upon himself to make sure you’d never get lost again. 

He started to put up signs everywhere in the house, giving indications as to where you were and where was what. Detailed little maps, arrows and such. Drawn by himself. It took him WEEKS to finally cover the entire Manor. 

It’s something no one ever thought of before because...Although you often got lost, it was always nice to try and find you, and well, you would still know your way around the part of the house you’d most go to. 

In fact, when you got lost, it was often because you’d go in a wing you didn’t know much for whatever reason, and they’d know where to look for you. 

So they never really saw a reason to make signs telling you the right way. Or yeah, they never really thought about it. 

But Damian...Damian was set to make the house “lost proof”.

As a result, you definitely didn’t get lost as many times. Which was...nice ? 

But once, at dinner, Dick was reminiscing of that one time you got lost in the attic for some reason, and couldn’t find your way out, and him and Jason had to get you, and how they laughed a lot and you praised them for saving you...

And Damian grew quiet. And upset. When you asked him why, he refused to answer, but the next day, you ventured in a part of the house you rarely went to so you could go fetch something and...

All the signs telling you which way to go were gone. Which didn’t worry you much, you knew you’d be found by one of your family member before long, or would just find your own way out after a while. 

But it was odd nonetheless. 

It’s only when Damian found you, and “saved” you that you understood why the signs weren’t on anymore. 

Damian too, wanted to “save” you from getting lost. Wanted to laugh with you because it was silly that you got lost in your own house. Wanted you to bake him cookies as a reward for saving him. Wanted to share those bonding moments with you...

It was so cute, and showed how far Damian really went since Talia first dropped him on your door, that you couldn’t help but hug the hell out of your baby. 

He was a little embarrassed, but hugged you back nonetheless. 

Yes. Yes Damian had come along way, since he first came into your life. He learned how to love, how it felt to be loved, and how...how sometimes he would crave for your attention. 

And so he took down the signs. So he could save you. So he could share this with you, just like you did share those moments with all his other siblings. 

He took down the signs, because you getting lost was an important inside joke of this family...And because he was, now, part of this family. 

What even is this place...

Duke thought he would never EVER find his way back in this new house. 

His bedroom was in...east wing ? West wing ? ...SOMEWHERE. 

The first few days of living there were overwhelming, and he constantly had to make sure he wasn’t far from one of the other family member because he was so afraid to get lost. 

He couldn’t remember the right way to anywhere. This was all too big. 

He grew up in a small two bedrooms apartment, in the heart of Gotham’s sludge. He could find his way in this gigantic city easily, knew the place like the back of his hand but...

The Manor ? 

It was uncharted territory. In every sense of the term. 

First it was on the outskirt of Gotham, in the hills, a place he never set foot in.

And then the house, but also the land around it was bigger than his neighborhood ! It was so foreign for him... 

But he hid this well. He hid the fact he was overwhelmed well. And just made sure he’d always be with someone when walking around the manor. 

He tried to remember the way they took, he really did. But every time he thought he got it, they’d use another way and he was totally lost again. 

Alfred showed him around the first day, but it was too many informations at the same time. Him and his ADHD couldn’t process it.  

What would you guys say, if he mentioned he was getting lost in the house ? Surely, you’d mock him. Or just feel sorry for him ? 

He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to know. Acclimating to this new life was already hard enough, what with discovering his meta-powers, having to deal with what happened to his parents, and living in this all new environment. 

You made it comfortable and easy for him. You were just so welcoming and loving. But it was still hard...he was only a boy. 

And so he said nothing. And now...now, lost and walking through corridors that all looked the same, he dearly regretted it. 

He turned a corner, and...there you were. 

“Oh, hey Dukie”. 

He smiled shyly, afraid you would know he was lost, and said : 

“Hi.” 

“What’s up ?” 

“Nothing, I was going to- I was exploring the house.” 

He was about to say he was trying to get to the movie theater, where Damian  and Cass were surely waiting for him by that time, so they could watch a movie. But what if he was totally off ? Far from where the home cinema was supposed to be ? 

“Exploring the house” sounded like a safe thing to say. 

“Oh, careful not to get lost haha. Happens to me all the time...” 

Wait...What ? Were you joking ? He wasn’t sure. 

“Actually, I’m lost right now. I wanted to take a shortcut from the kitchen to the bat cave to see Bruce -I miss him- -Yeah I know only saw him couple of hours ago-, but I must’ve taken a wrong turn...Somewhere...”

You were holding your chin in your hand now, trying to remember where you could possibly have taken the wrong turn. And Duke realized you were serious.

“You’re lost ?” 

“Yeaaaah. Go ahead, you can laugh. I know I’d laugh at myself too haha. I just could...never quite figure out how this house worked ? I grew up in a one bedroom apartment, sleeping in the living room with my brothers. And then when I moved in on my own I had an even smaller place. So. It’s a change. Even after all those years I’m still not quite used to it.”

“Ah me too ! I mean, I just can’t figure out the layout of this place !”

“Ah ? Hey, for you too, sometimes you think you definitely know where you’re going and then you find yourself outside in the garden and you just have no idea how you got there ?”

“Yes !!!! I was sure of my way so many times but then one wrong turn and...here I am.” 

“Well Duke, believe me I get it. I get it haha.” 

You then proceeded to tell him all the most embarrassing stories of you getting lost, including that one time at a charity event held in your house, someone asked you to take them to a certain place, and your asshole of a husband let you do it just because he knew you wouldn’t find the way, and because you getting lost with their guest was the only fun entertainment of the night. 

And this. 

This simple shared thing, of you two getting lost...

It was amongst the first time Duke really felt home. Really felt like he wasn’t alone. 

Those past few days had been difficult for him. This was all so new. 

And yet, with a few smiles, silly stories and support..You made him feel like he was truly home. And he didn’t even notice the hours you two passed, sat on the floor in that corridor, before Bruce found you and took you back to where you initially wanted to go...   

Saved by the littlest bird

Thomas is about eight, and you’re about to have a heart pinching flashback as he’s going to remind you of your first baby...

Dick was going to be almost thirty, by then. He was married, and with a kid on the way (I’m not here for ship wars, you chose with who he is, wether it’s Babs or Kori, or whoever else). Oh, how long ago it was, that his little eight years old hand would hold yours to guide you across the manor...

Too bad. Because right now, you definitely needed some help navigating around. Lost again. Ugh. T’was getting old. 

“Mommy...You’ve been living in this house for over 15 years now, how can you still get lost ?” 

Your littlest baby. Thomas. Appearing from around the corner, and as he saw you, rolling his eyes like never before. Yet smirking, in a very “Bruce” way. Ah. Like father, like son. 

“...”

Is your only answer. 

You avoid his judging gaze, but did it in a way that was overdoing it, so he knew you were just pretending to be embarrassed haha. He rolled his eyes, and then takes out a walkie talkie and says : 

“I found her Damdam, she’s in the West Wing near one of the drawing room. Over.” 

“Ok, thanks little buddy, let’s meet up in the kitchen, over.” 

“Ok cool, be right there, over.” 

This little exchange made you smile, oh those two were very close. Well, all your children were close. But Damian and Thomas had a little something, because they were the youngest, and because Damian took to heart his big brother role. He was also the only one still living in the manor by that time, all your other children having their own place in Gotham, going to college or already working...a wave of nostalgia threatened to take over you, and you quickly thought of something else. 

“Little buddy”, Damian called Thomas. Copying you for sure. How cute.  

“Come on mommy, I’ll take you back to the kitchen. You can make us cookies then, yes ?” 

“Of course my baby, any flavor you want.” 

“Well Damian will surely want the white chocolate chip ones, so I’m good with those too.” 

Thomas was such a sweet consilient boy. He didn’t really mind anything, and would follow you guys anywhere...as long as he could be with his family, and enjoy their presence, he just never minded. 

He definitely had a stubborn and strong personality, but he was still oh so sweet. And nice. Even if he did mock you a lot for getting lost in your own home...

“Where did you get the walkies ?” 

“Dick gave it to me last time he came, so we could cheat at hide and seek. Don’t tell Tim.” 

You chuckle, imagining how nuts your kids would get because Dick always goddamn won...

Ah and of course Dick would give a talkie to his littlest brother. To be honest, Thomas reminded you of Dick in lots of ways. 

They were both gentle, funny, sweet and nice...with outburst of anger and pride sometimes. Ah quite like Bruce too. You loved them all so damn much. 

“Now come mom, I think dad will be home soon too ! We can watch a movie before the patrol ! With cookies !!” 

You smile, and you take your son’s hand. Your youngest boy. Reminiscent of when Dick used to do this. All those years ago. 

Reminiscent of a time you didn’t feel so weak... 

(I’M SORRY I HAD TO ADD THIS LAST LINE FOR IT TO FIT IN THE WORLD I SORT OF MADE !! If you know you know). 

And if you’re wondering who the hell Thomas is : Polichinelle, “Go away, you’re confusing my baby”, Shaky steps and bad teaching, Master of Diaper, How do you make babies ?, What it means to be a big brother - By Damian Wayne and After Batmom’s death)

Bonus : There’s a moment, in one of the video I watched, where the guy showing the house off is basically like : “You might think this is a beautiful dining room…but it’s not, it’s a breakfast room”, and I had random flashes of Alfred showing the manor to one of the kids, or even to Batmom as she first comes to the house, and him talking about the “breakfast room”, and the boys/Batmom just not being able to get over the fact there’s a room that exist just to eat breakfast in…(wait till they see the personal SPA floor uh). Only Damian would be like : “Tt. Only one breakfast room ?” XD. Anyway. I thought I shared, because it made me laugh to imagine how ridiculous Wayne Manor is. Wait worst, in one of the video the people living in it had a room bigger than my entire apartment that existed for the SOLE PURPOSE OF CUTTING BOUQUETS OF FRESH FLOWERS ??????? That I’m sure they wouldn’t have. I mean, a garden that Alfred would cherish, for sure. But...an entire room just to cut FRESH (the dude really put an emphasis on that) flowers...My guy...what...

_________________________________________________

Ok the end. Hope you liked whatever my thoughts were on this Saturday night. I didn't put as much effort in this as I usually do and wrote it rather fast, hope it’s still ok, I just wanted to share a little something that wouldn't leave my head up until I finally wrote about it :). 

PS : Also it’s all sort of a joke I thought about, I know most people would probably find their way after living for ages in the same place, but ah you get what I meant haha. Also I get lost in my own basement sometimes because of how the layout is, so ya know...hahaha. 

[slasherheadcanons]

Im feeling angsty yk. So slashers watching their s/o die. Watching them die and how would life go on with out them. Extra points if somehow they come back to life perfectly normal and they are just like "hey lmao" ✨✨✨✨

Oooh! Gotta love angsty stuff. Here you go! Enjoy.

Warning: Slight gore?

•Slashers reacting to the S/o dying then later coming back•

Michael Myers: •When you died, whether it was because of something natural or someone killed you, Michael flew into a blind rage. His heart was hurting, and unable to handle this emotion, he acts violently. He destroys everything that gets in his way. After a long few weeks, he finally stops his killing spree. But he still isn't the same. He sits by himself in your house, staring at everything. He would never admit it, but he loved and cared for you. Now that you are gone, he feels like a part of him is missing. •After a long sleepless month for Michael, he finally brings himself to go outside. He lumbers down the sidewalk, getting lost in his thoughts. Until he heard his name being called. He turns to the person, ready to snap their neck. But he freezes when he sees you standing there with a smile on your face. You looked perfectly healthy and alive. He reaches out, touching your cheek, wondering if your real or just another illusion. When he feels your warm skin against his fingers, his shoulders start shaking a little as he tries to hold in his emotions. You hug him tightly, and he hugs you back.

Bubba Sawyer: •When you died, Bubba was overcome with grief. He howled and wailed in despair as he held your body close. He wailed for hours on end, refusing to let you go. No matter what his family tried to do, he wouldn't budge. He held you close and attempted to get you to open your eyes multiple times. He didn't want to believe that you were gone. But, when reality hits him that you aren't coming back, his heart shatters. He takes you out and finds a peaceful spot on the property to bury your body. Even after burying your body, Bubba is not the same. He is quiet and rarely even makes a sound. He struggles to chase down victims and can't bring himself to sleep in his bed where both of you snuggled up together. Dayton and the twins try to cheer him up, but nothing works •Then, one day, Bubba is out helping Dayton with fixing the car. He stands with the tools in his hand, staring blankly at the ground. His head lifts when he hears another car pull up to the property. He sighs softly, just thinking it another victim to chase down. But when he sees you get out of the car, he freezes. When you see him and smile, waving your hand, he looks at Dayton to see if he was seeing the same thing. Dayton is just as shocked as Bubba. "Bubba! I am back." You call out to him, and that's all it took for Bubba to realize you are alive. He races over to you, picking up in his arms and spinning you around, squealing with joy. He doesn't know how you came back, but he is thankful you did. The whole family celebrates your return.

Jason Voorhees: •The moment you stop breathing, Jason stands there frozen for just a moment before rushing to your side. He shakes you, trying to get you to open your eyes. Silently pleading for you to open your eyes. He continues to try and wake you for hours before he finally brings himself to realize you are not going to be opening your eyes. He pulls your body close to his chest. His shoulders shake as he cries silently, unable to cry out in anguish and grief. He lost his mother, and now you as well. He clings to you for a week at least before finally pushing himself to bury your body. He finds a beautiful and peaceful spot in the forest around the campgrounds and buries you there. After your death, he isn't the same. He either sits by your grave thinking about the times you had together or wanders around the campgrounds, lost in thought. He struggles to find the will to go kill intruders. He feels so lost and alone. •But one day, while he was wandering, he heard someone call his name. He looked around before finding you running towards him with a grin on your face. He freezes in place, shocked. When you stop in front of him, he reaches out to touch your face. Thinking you are just a ghost, he touches your face. His eyes widen as he feels the warmth of your smooth skin. He looks at you as you smile. "I am back, Jason." It was all you needed to say to him. He pulls you close hugging, you tightly to his chest, afraid that the moment he lets go, you will vanish.

Asa Emory (the collector): •When you pass away, Asa tries to pretend that it doesn't bother him. That he isn't affected by your death. But deep inside, he is suffering. He tries to cover the pain and grief he feels with anger. Acting even more violently towards those in his collection. He never speaks to anyone at the college and never lets anyone see his true emotions. He struggles to sleep at night. Every time he lays in his own bed, he is reminded of all the times you would kiss him goodnight or snuggle up to his chest, seeking to be held in his strong arms. He missed everything about you, your touch, your voice, your laughter. He missed you so badly. •One day, he returned home from the college, his eyes drooping slightly with exhaustion. He has barely been able to sleep since you took your last breath. He parked the car in the driveway, sighing loudly. He may have been sleep deprived, but he still picks up on the way the front door is slightly cracked open. He narrows his tired eyes, grabbing his knife from his pocket before slowly and cautiously making his way to the door. He listened closely as he reached the door, hearing some shuffling, he quickly ran in knife raised to face the intruder. But he quickly stops in his tracks, stunned at what he sees in front of him. You stand in front of smiling while holding a tray of freshly made cookies. His eyes are wide as he starts at you slowly, lowering the knife. "Y/n?" He quietly asked in disbelief, wondering if he has finally gone insane. You smile and nod. "I am back now, Asa, and I don't plan on leaving again anytime soon." You respond with a chuckle. He sets the knife down, going over to you. He has you set the tray down before pulling you into his arms, hugging you. "If you ever leave me again, I will find a way to punish you." He mumbles in your ear, trying to sound like he isn't tearing up with joy. You laugh and kiss his cheek. "I have no doubt you will, my dearest bug boy." You reply.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull): •Most likely, you got killed by Preston. So when Jesse learned that you are dead, he is furious. Jesse is terrifying, to begin with, but when he is this pissed off, he is so much worse. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to stop him from gutting Preston and shoving them down his throat. He is going to hunt him down non-stop until he is dead. After Preston is gone, he returns to your body which, Spann took care of while he was away chasing Preston. He kicks everyone else out of the room so no one can see him cry. He is a strong man but losing you is just too much to bear. He lost his ex-wife, his child, and now he has lost you. If he could speak, he would be screaming out with grief. It takes him a while to finally agree to bury you. He makes sure you are buried in the most beautiful place and brings flowers to your grave every day. •Now, when you return, Spann is the one who found you while she was out looking for Jesse's next victim. She was shocked to see you. At first, she was thinking, you were just someone else who looked a lot like you, but when you recognized her, she realizes that it's actually you. She quickly rushes you back to Jesse. Jesse was sitting at his desk when Spann barged in. He sighs through his nose, looking up to see why she came in without knocking. But when he sees you come in after her, his jaw drops. He sits there in shock. You smile at him. "There is my handsome man." You say, at that moment he recognizes it's you. He stands and quickly goes over to you, pulling you close to his chest. He forgets all about finding another victim, now spending the rest of the day holding and spending time with you.

[fridayfirefly]

Seeing Ghosts

Read Seeing Ghosts on AO3

Masterlist

For Maribat March Day 12 - Second Chance

For as long as she could remember, Marinette could see ghosts. It wasn't always the ghosts of strangers, though. Her ghost encounters started small. When Marinette was four years old, her parents told her that the family cat, Tikki, had left to live in the countryside. Marinette didn't understand, because Tikki still lived with them. Tikki still meowed for pets, still purred when Marinette pet her, still played with her favorite toy, the laser pointer that Marinette got for her last birthday. It wasn't until two weeks later, that Tom and Sabine sat Marinette down and explained to her that Tikki had died, that she needed to stop pretending that she was still there. Marinette was confused until she saw the way Tikki's paws batted right through her toys, the way she never ate the scraps that Marinette dropped on the floor. Marinette knew two things for sure: Tikki was dead and Marinette could still see her ghost.

For years and years, Tikki was the only ghost that Marinette saw. Then Marinette turned fourteen and Marinette could suddenly see.

They haunted the corners of her eyes, lurking in her periphery. They were just shadows, phantoms until Marinette focused her eyes, and then she could see them clear as day. Ghosts were real and Marinette could see them. Ghosts were real and they were everywhere, an inescapable reality for Marinette.

Quickly, the ghosts learned that Marinette could see them. They followed her around, lingering at the edge of her sight. She could hear them too, little whispers about the baker's daughter, the only person who could see them. However, none of the ghosts were bold enough to approach her. That was the status quo, until one day when Marinette came home from school one day to a ghost lurking in her room.

Marinette gasped as she saw the ghost sitting in the chair at her desk, staring at her with knowing blue eyes. He was her age, which made his brutal injuries all the more horrific to look at. His skull was caved in. His chest was mangled. His skin was shredded and burned. He had been beaten to death, tortured in his final moments.

"I've been told that you can see ghosts," the boy remarked, ignoring Marinette's shock entirely. He spoke in English instead of French, luckily Marinette's class had been learning both languages, so she was able to understand.

Marinette nodded, her throat suddenly unable to get a word out.

"You can hear ghosts, too. Can you bring them back to life?"

Marinette shook her head, clearing her throat as she began to speak in English, "I've never tried, but I don't think so."

"Could you try? For me?" pleaded the boy, the desperation in his expression breaking Marinette's heart.

"I don't even know you," said Marinette, trying to find a way to gently let the boy down. Seeing ghosts was one thing; bringing them back to life was another thing entirely.

"I'm Jason Todd." Jason stuck out his hand and Marinette tentatively shook it.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

It wasn't until Marinette pulled her hand back that she realized that his hand - and now her's - was covered in blood. With a shriek of surprise, Marinette stumbled backward away from Jason. "What did you do?"

"What did I do? What did you do?"

"This has never happened before. Somehow my touch turned you corporeal enough for the blood on your hand to transfer to mine."

Jason glanced down at his hands. "Your fingers left prints in the blood. I've spent hours trying to wash the blood away for months, and you managed to do it by accident."

Marinette stared at her hands, the realization sinking in. Jason Todd was dead and his blood was on her hands. In the blink of an eye, Marinette was running to the bathroom to throw up. She thought she would be able to handle looking at the injuries of the dead, but Jason's wounds suddenly felt personal. Someone beat him to death, beat him until his bones broke and his skull caved him. Marinette heaved into the toilet, unable to cope with the violence of Jason's death.

When Marinette finally lifted her head, she saw Jason lingering at the door, looking guilty. "I'm sorry. I know that this is pretty graphic to look at." Jason gestured towards himself.

Marinette shook her head. "You don't have to apologize." After rinsing her mouth out until the taste of vomit was gone, Marinette turned to Jason. "Come here."

Jason approached her at the sink. With the water still running, Marinette took his hands and held them underneath the water. They both watched as the water turned red, then pink, then ran clear as all of the blood washed off Jason's hands. "Thank you," Jason whispered.

Marinette took a deep breath. "I can't make any promises, but I will do my best to bring you back."

--

Bringing the ghost of a human boy back to life seemed like an impossible task, so Marinette started small: with Tikki the ghost cat. It took two weeks of experimentation before Marinette realized that with enough meditation she could funnel some of her energy into Tikki's ghost. With Jason to help her take notes, Marinette began to figure out the ins-and-outs of resurrection.

The most difficult part was figuring out exactly how much energy Marinette could expend before it took a toll on her physical health. The very first time she gave Tikki energy, Marinette woke up the next morning with bruises littering her body. Tom and Sabine took Marinette to the doctor's where she was diagnosed with anemia and prescribed iron supplements. Jason was so concerned about Marinette's well-being that he refused to let her give any more energy away before she had returned to her full health.

A few weeks after the initial mishap Marinette got back on track. Every morning she would push just a little bit of energy into Tikki. Little by little, Tikki turned from specter to physical being. Then, one morning, as Marinette pushed energy into Tikki, she felt her energy hit a wall. At the same time, Marinette felt Tikki's fur under her hand for the first time in ten years.

"You brought her back!" Jason exclaimed.

Marinette let out a whoop of joy, scaring Tikki, who jumped out of Marinette's lap with a startled meow. Marinette grabbed Tikki back up, able to properly hug her beloved pet for the first time in ten years. "I've got to go show Tikki to my parents. I'm going to tell them that I found her outside."

"You'll need to give her a new name," said Jason. "Might I suggest Alfred."

Tom and Sabine were surprised, which was to be expected. After all, it wasn't every day that their daughter found a doppelgänger of their dead cat in the alley behind the bakery. However, they were quick to rationalize the event, shrugging it off as a strange coincidence. Alfred became a beloved new member of the family.

After her success with Alfred neé Tikki, Marinette turned her attention to Jason. Their very first attempt took place in Marinette's bedroom. Marinette and Jason sat down cross-legged on the floor. Marinette placed her hands on top of Jason's and concentrated. She felt the life force within herself and pressed it forward, through her hands and into his.

"I can feel it," whispered Jason, "I've never felt anything like it before. It's so warm."

The awe in Jason's voice made Marinette feel warm inside as well. "I'm going to start with just a little bit of energy. I don't know how transferring energy to a human will differ from transferring energy to a cat, and I don't want to burn myself out on the very first transfer."

"Do this at whatever pace you need. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Marinette smiled with his reassurance. She took a deep breath, and let the energy flow out of her. When she finally finished, cutting off the flow, she looked back up at Jason and gasped. Jason's broken finger, which had bothered him for weeks, had straightened out. The cut on his collarbone had closed shut. The bruise on his cheekbone had faded. His wounds were already starting to heal.

--

Quickly, Marinette and Jason fell into a routine. Every day after school they would sit down in the back corner of the bakery and Marinette (under the guise of doing her homework) would push more of her life energy into him. It was a slow process. Though Marinette often wished to give Jason just a little more energy every day, to speed up the process, she was constantly aware of the fact that Jason would fuss over her and stop the transfer of energy entirely if he saw any sign of pain or exhaustion on her.

In the months that Marinette had known Jason, he had grown protective over her. Marinette spent most of her time with Jason. He slept in her room on the little couch in the corner, followed her to school, and wore the clothes that she designed for her. Jason changing his clothes was an incredibly embarrassing affair, as the only way for him to be corporeal enough to touch the clothes was for Marinette to be touching him while he did it, leading to averted eyes and blushing on the part of both Marinette and Jason (but it was worth it for Marinette, to saw Jason's relieved smile when he realized that he never had to see the blood-stained clothes that he died in again).

In total, it took eight months from the day that Marinette met Jason to the day that Marinette brought Jason back to life. It started as an uneventful morning. Marinette woke up to her alarm, grumbling as she got ready about how it was inhumane to make teenagers wake up so early. She made herself a coffee while chatting to Jason. They walked to school together, Marinette dodging through the crowded sidewalk while Jason moved straight through people with ease. Marinette got to her desk at school and took a seat next to Alya. Luckily the seat behind Marinette was empty, so Jason sat there when he followed Marinette to school.

Marinette had asked Jason before if it bothered him that he was unable to participate with the rest of the class since they could neither see nor hear him. Jason claimed that he didn't mind. Despite that, if Jason ever whispered comments or questions about the lesson into Marinette's ear, she always made sure to ask the teacher, even if she already knew the answer.

Sitting in on lessons had the additional benefit of teaching Jason French. Marinette did her best to teach him the basics, but immersion was the best teacher - after eight months of hearing and speaking only French, Jason was fluent in the language. Marinette often praised him for his quick learning, which was how she learned that Jason was prone to blushing when he was complimented. Jason always grumbled when Marinette pointed it out, but Marinette found it adorable.

Once school was over on that fateful day, Marinette and Jason walked home together. Marinette set her backpack down at her usual table, sat down, and got to work. It had become an easy routine: put in her headphones and play some calming music, find a quiet place within her brain, and focus on the feeling of energy welling up inside of her. Then take Jason's hands, concentrate on that energy, and push it through her arms and into him. Controlling the direction of the energy was easy - it was controlling the rate that was the difficult part. It moved slowly at first, then all at once it flowed faster than Marinette can control, and it was a race to slow it down before it could all drain out of her.

That day, however, just as the energy started to speed up, the flow of energy abruptly cut off before Marinette even had the chance to react.

"Why did it stop?" asked Jason, looking confused.

The day had been so long coming that Marinette could hardly believe what had happened. "I have nothing left to give you. You're alive again, Jason."

Jason stared at her, wide-eyed. "Are you sure?"

"I'll go test it." Marinette jumped out of her seat and raced towards the front of the bakery, heading for Tom, who was behind the counter. "Papa, can I get a plate of macaroons for me and my friend?"

Tom glanced over at Jason. "Who is he? I don't think I've ever seen him here before."

"He's a foreign exchange student," Marinette lied easily. "His name is Jason."

"Here's a plate for you and Jason." Tom handed her a plate, piled high with macaroons and other sweets.

"I might take Jason and show him around Paris, once we finish our homework. Is that alright?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Just make sure you're home before dinner."

"Of course," chirped Marinette. She made her way back to her table with a bounce in her step. "My papa could see you. You're real."

In that moment, Jason looked lost. He glanced down at his hands, flesh and blood once more. "What do I do now?"

"You're alive again. You can do whatever you want."

Jason took a deep breath. "I've been gone from this world for so long. I want to go home."

Marinette tried not to let the fact that her heart was breaking show on her face. "I have enough birthday money saved up to buy you a plane ticket. You might have trouble getting on a plane without any identification, but I'm sure we can come up with a solution."

For a moment, Jason looked upset. Then, Marinette saw on his face as a realization dawned on him. "I didn't mean alone. Marinette, I want you to come with me."

--

There was no sugar-coating it: Marinette's parents were going to kill her. The plane was half-way across the Atlantic Ocean and Marinette's phone was turned off. There was no way to check, but she was certain that her parents were already sending her frantic texts. By the time the plane landed in Gotham, Tom and Sabine would surely have already called the police.

Marinette could only hope that her and Jason's fake IDs would hold up against the Gotham Airport security officers. While seventeen-year-old Jason could easily pass for nineteen, the age listed on the fake ID for Jasper Townsend, Marinette was worried that she looked young enough to cause suspicion. The age on Marie Davis's ID needed to be eighteen in order to get Marinette onto the plane, so whether she liked it or not she had to look eighteen. Resigned to her lies, Marinette put on a heavy face of makeup and wore three-inch heels on the international flight. It was a little funny, in an ironic way, that her heels had one inch for each year she needed to make up for.

Marinette was still confused about how Jason managed to get them fake IDs in the first place. Jason just shrugged and said that he knew a guy who owed him a favor. It was a side of Jason that Marinette hadn't ever seen before, a side of him that she was deeply curious about.

They had gotten on the plane just as the sun was setting. Marinette had sent her parents one last text message, telling them that she might be a little late. It was the understatement of the century. Marinette had never lied to her parents like that before. All of her past lies had been little things - lying about the number of macaroons she ate, or how late she stayed up the night before - but never a lie about her personal safety. The guilt was killing Marinette. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

Jason placed his hand (flesh and blood) on Marinette's shoulder. "I'm sorry that I'm making you do this."

"I'm not sorry. I would never make you do it alone."

Marinette could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off of Jason as their plane landed in Gotham. "I'm assuming you know where we're going next. Should we rent a car?" she asked once they cleared security (miraculously, no one looked too closely at Marinette's feeble attempt at a disguise. Marinette was glad to switch out her heels for flats and wash off the makeup in the airport bathroom).

Jason shook his head. "We don't need to rent one. He always keeps a car at the airport just in case someone's flying in."

Marinette wasn't sure who he was supposed to be, but Jason had been reticent to share any information about his past, and Marinette wasn't going to pressure him. Jason had been beaten to death, after all. There was a lot of trauma in his past and Marinette wasn't going to force him to share it with her until he was ready.

Jason led her through to the VIP parking lot to a luxury black sedan. He reached underneath the car, feeling at the underside until he pulled out a key. "Bruce keeps a key taped to the underside."

"That seems... irresponsible." Marinette was delicate with her words. Jason had been tense since the plane landed, like a loaded gun. She didn't want to bring up anything that might set him off.

"He also has a tracker planted in the car," Jason remarked offhandedly.

Marinette rolled her eyes at that remark, unable to keep walking on eggshells around the topic of Jason's family. "Irresponsible and paranoid. That's an interesting combination."

Jason laughed. "Just wait until you meet Bruce in person. I promise you, none of what I could tell you about him would ever live up to the real deal."

They got into the car, Jason in the driver's seat and Marinette in the passenger's. Jason's driving was a little rusty at first (which was understandable, given that he hadn't driven in nearly a year), but by the time he got on the highway, it was like he never left the driver's seat.

"Do you think that your family will believe you when you tell them that I brought you back to life?" asked Marinette, her voice quiet. The closer she and Jason got to Jason's house, the more questions Marinette had. It had taken her weeks to rationalize the fact that she could see ghosts, and she was the one seeing them. She couldn't imagine how Jason's family would react.

"Bruce was the one who found my body. There wasn't any faking that. I think he'll believe you."

"We've never talked about what happened to you. I- Is it safe for you to go home?"

Jason nodded, eyes on the road as he pulled off the highway onto a winding road. "Bruce did everything he could to save me, but he was too late. I was there for the funeral. I watched him mourn. I think... I think the reason I never passed on was because he never got over my death, never stopped feeling guilty. I wanted to pass on. I wanted to tell Bruce that I didn't blame him. I went and found you so that you could pass on the message for me. But then, when you could touch me, when you took the time to wash the blood off of my hands, I realized that I might be able to tell Bruce myself. I realized that I could have a second chance. I realized how badly I wanted a second chance, because a second chance at life meant that I had a chance with you."

Marinette blushed, looking over at Jason. "You know that doesn't matter to me. I wouldn't care if you were dead or alive."

With a snort of amusement, Jason said, "You might want to rephrase that."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. I liked you before you were corporeal. Human or ghost, you're my friend, Jason, and that's never going to change."

"I know that, but I like being alive better. I like being able to hold your hand for real."

Before Marinette could say anything in reply, the car turned. Marinette was too shocked to speak when she saw the size of the house at the end of the driveway. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Marinette."

Marinette got out of the car first, smoothing down the fabric of her skirt and running her fingers through her hair. She hoped that she looked presentable, even if no one would be looking at her once they saw the resurrected Jason. "Are you coming?"

Jason nodded, taking a deep, steadying breath. "Yeah. I'm ready." Jason got out of the car and slipped his hand (flesh and blood) into Marinette's, and even though questions and doubts were swirling through Marinette's head in a whirlwind of anxiety, she knew that as long as she could hold Jason's hand, everything would be okay.

@maribatmarch-2k21