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ayamari-no-goshi · 1 year

Text

Don’t Forget to Write

AO3 -> next

Fandoms: DC (Batman comics

Summary: From Dick’s POV. Damian happened to win a contest to illustrate a new book by an up and coming author. Being the good brother he is, Dick decided to check the book.He quickly realized he was reading a very first hand account of one of Jason's old cases, and deciding to act like a normal person would, he decided to read some of the author's other works. What he found shook the very foundation of what he thought was true?

Warnings: rated T - mostly for swearing and questionable mental health. Amnesia

Parings: none

Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr

Dick took a few quick breaths and double checked he was still holding the book he had swiped from Damian before he knocked on the door frame of Bruce’s office. It wasn’t like Bruce wouldn’t appreciate the distraction from whatever paperwork built up, but the situation he wanted to bring up sounded insane, even to him.

“Hey, Chum, what’s wrong?” Bruce gave him a tired smile. From what Dick had heard from Tim and Damian, he’d been working on dismantling a massive arms smuggling ring recently. Word on the street suggested it was connected to Black Mask, but there was currently no concrete evidence to support it.

“You know how Damian recently won that contest?” he asked, deciding that was the easiest way to start.

Bruce nodded and his tired smile was briefly replaced with something warmer. While he had a hard time expressing his feelings, the man was genuinely happy for their accomplishments. The congratulations letter that Damian received which let him know he won an art contest had been placed on the fridge so anyone who would walk in could see it.

“Since the prize is the chance to illustrate an upcoming book, Damian decided to read some of the author’s other works to get an idea of the style.” Dick paused for a moment. “He said something that struck me as weird. I guess this author tends to write detective stories, but after criticizing how the cases were solved, he mentioned they sounded similar to a lot of our cases. I got curious and decided to read a few too…” He shifted his weight as Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “It’s unsettling.”

“How so?”

Dick fidgeted a moment. “This is going to sound crazy, but I wouldn’t bring this up to you if it wasn’t this weird. Bruce, these stories are nearly identical to the cases we worked on with… with Jason.”

When Bruce’s expression hardened, Dick made sure not to say anything. His brother’s name was still something everyone tried not to bring up in front of him unless absolutely necessary. It has been six years since Jason’s death at the hands of the Joker, and Bruce had never forgiven himself for it. While he had long since moved past the self-destructive phase of his grief, largely in part to Tim taking the lead on keeping him in check, it still lingered below the surface.

“Are you certain?” The intensity of the man’s voice almost made Dick shiver.

“Bruce,” he kept his voice even as he handed him the book, “I’m certain enough to bring it up to you. Take a look and let me know what you think. Maybe I am just misremembering, but there are details about characters who seemed to be thinly veiled versions of us and our rogues that only we know. The one in your hand talks about what happened when he ran The Gauntlet. It’s too spot on.”

“I will take a look.”

Dick nodded. “Let me know what you decide. Even if you don’t decide to act, I’m going to look into it. I just have a gut feeling.”

…

“I know that name,” Stephanie mentioned later that evening as Bruce began explaining why they were looking into the author, who went by the pen name ‘John Doe’. “He’s really popular with a lot of high school students.”

“Bernard really likes his books,” Tim added. A slight blush appeared on his cheeks which he stubbornly ignored. “One of the things a lot of people talk about is how it feels like they’re reading a more personal account of what it’s like to be Robin. It’s why it’s so popular. He started writing in online forums before being picked up by Gotham Publishing.”

“That’s what brought him to our attention,” Dick explained. “His books match a little too closely with some of ours, especially from…” He glanced over at Bruce.

“From when Jason was Robin,” he finished as he pressed a button on the Batcomputer. Behind him, a comparison between one of John Doe’s books and one of their cases. Several highlighted areas could be seen.

Steph, Tim, and Cass shared looks. Even Damian seemed moderately surprised. Bruce almost never brought up Jason, unless it was to remind them what they were risking if they went out unprepared. The fact that he was willing to say his name made it much more serious, especially because all of them could hear the note of pain obvious in his voice.

“I can verify our systems weren’t hacked,” Barbara’s voice drifted over from her comm line. She’d been helping Dick after he messaged her with his original suspicions. “Since that’s not the problem, I’ve been helping Dick research him. John Doe, also known as Jay Peters, doesn’t legally exist.”

“So, he forged a new identity? Or is he an illegal immigrant or trafficking victim?” Steph questioned.

“No, amnesia.” Babs paused as she brought up a contract with a couple signatures on it. “Here’s our writer’s contract with Gotham Publishing. You can see the name of Maria Valencia, one of the leading victim’s rights advocates in the city, vouching for him. So, I checked her records and found a very interesting medical file.”

“John Doe forty-seven was brought to Gotham General approximately five and a half years ago after being found dazed and severely injured in the middle of the night,” Dick spoke up as the medical file and related police report appeared on the computer screen. “Even after several surgeries, he spent a year in a coma before waking up without an idea of who he is or what happened to him. Babs, can you bring up the images?”

Dick shifted uncomfortably as he waited for Bruce’s response. At first, he thought they were dealing with a new Rogue, someone too skilled at hacking for their own good, or even a meta with an ability that allowed them to tap into thoughts or computer records. But after seeing the images, Dick was presented with a possibility he wasn’t emotionally prepared to handle. He should have waited until he finished his own investigation before he brought it up to Bruce.

“These images… are from the police reports?” Bruce questioned, emotion breaking through his normal façade. He noticed the similarities that had unsettled Dick when he first reviewed them.

“Yes,” Babs confirmed. “The GCPD were unable to find any missing persons cases that matched his description. Looks like they tried to get fingerprints, but his hands were too mangled at the time for anything useable.”

“I used the Batcomputer to see if we could get a hit. Bruce,” Dick made sure to look him in the eyes as the results were shown on the screen, “they’re a partial match to Jason. And it’s not just the fingerprints. With the exception of the injuries on his fingers, all of his other ones match his autopsy report. I know it sounds crazy, especially because these photos were taken six months after his death.”

“His hands…” Tim murmured as he reviewed the images. “It looks like he had been digging.”

“That appears to be the case.” A slight frown appeared on Bruce’s face. Dick had known him long enough to know he was trying to consider other possibilities. There had been too many tragedies in their lives for him to immediately jump to the idea the person in those images was his son miraculously returned from the dead. “Barbara, do you have any recent images of him?”

“Just one. Give me a sec.”

An image of a young man standing near Valencia, caught off guard by something, possibly the camera, appeared on the screen. Even though he appeared older, the facial structure was the same as Jason’s, even down to the slightly crooked position of his nose, something that occurred after a nasty fight with one of Two-Face’s goons. And then there were the scars. There was a particularly noticeable one over his left eye that occurred sometime before Jason came to the Manor.

Dick glanced at Bruce to see if he had the same sort of recognition he had when he first saw it, but he instantly regretted it. There was pain and an aching longing he’d rarely seen in Bruce’s expression. While he wouldn’t be convinced until he ran his own tests, he couldn’t deny the similarities.

“I’m going to double check the prints,” Bruce’s voice was thick with emotion, “and run a facial recognition.”

“Father, are you really entertaining the idea that this person…” Damian didn’t have a chance to finish his thought when Cass placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He fought to bring you back,” she reminded him as Bruce began a fingerprint and facial analysis of the author against Jason. “Let him hope he can bring another son home.” Damian didn’t have a response to that.

A few moments later, the computer showed a ninety three percent match against Jason regarding appearance. The difference in age and some newer scars, including the one that was just visible under his hairline, could be enough for why it wasn’t a complete match. The print match finished a few moments later and confirmed the partial match Dick had gotten.

“Is there a chance this Jason look alike is a clone?” When Steph caught Bruce’s glare, she held her hands up. “What? It’s a valid question.”

“It’s a possibility,” Dick stated slowly. With how delicate the situation was, he needed to make sure he properly explained his thoughts. None of them needed Bruce spiraling again. “But it doesn’t feel right. If he is, whoever made him went through a lot of work to match the injuries on his body. They wouldn’t just let him go after all of that. But instead of some diabolical plot, he’s just writing mystery novels and keeping to himself.”

“There’s something else weird,” Tim spoke up. “Look at the date he was admitted to the hospital. It matches up with when the Superboy Prime incident occurred. He was also found along the road that leads from the cemetery.”

Dick tried to forget about that. Superboy Prime, a teenaged version of Superman from another universe who got trapped in theirs. His ill-fated attempts to return home combined with his insane plans to attempt to rewrite their reality to make it closer to the one he knew had far reaching effects that they were still discovering several years later.

Bruce turned and pin one of the most intense stares Dick had ever seen on the teen. “What are you suggesting?”

“B, no one has touched his… Jason’s grave, right?”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Oh, Tim was treading a minefield. “That is correct.”

“Hypothetically, if someone broke out of it, would it have set off any alarms?”

“No, but the likelihood…”

“B, that was a reality shattering event. With everything else we’ve seen over the years, is It really so strange that he came back?” Tim pointed to the computer screen where the injuries on the author’s fingers were still visible. “Whoever this is, he dug himself out of something. Even if that’s not what happened, we should at least rule it out.”

As a Bruce took a moment to process the idea, Dick decided to speak up. “Maybe I’m misremembering, but I seem to recall a report talking about how a couple members of the Doom Patrol came back to life after everything was said and done. And I’m pretty sure there were rumors of that happening to civilians too.”

“There were,” Tim stated as he stepped forward so he could bring up some files on the Batcomputer. “Five confirmed cases in Gotham and three in Bludhaven.”

Dick felt his eyebrows raise. He hadn’t known that, and neither did the others, judging by their equally surprised expressions.

“B, I’d say that’s enough to warrant considering it. Tim and I can check the grave.” Dick sighed. “We’ll also have to rule out he’s an alternative version of Jason too. But, if I’m honest, I hope this is real.”

“I know you’re gonna want a DNA sample from him,” Steph mentioned as she glanced at the photo again. “Babs, you didn’t happen to figure out where this guy lives, did you?”

“Not yet,” she admitted.

“I did.” Everyone turned to look at Tim. “I got curious why an author would go by the name ‘John Doe’ and investigated his forum posts a while back. He hasn’t provided a lot about himself other than some of the books he likes to read. Thought it was weird, so I tried hacking his account. Most of the original posts were made from the library at the corner of Park Row, and the later ones are all from a computer owned by the publishing company. So, I hacked the publishing company instead, and it appears they’re paying for him to stay in a small apartment.”

Sighing, Dick glanced at his younger brother. “Let me guess. You already staked out the property.”

“Yeah. There’s not much in it, just basic furniture and some books. He keeps it tidy. Both times I’ve stopped by during a patrol, he’s been asleep.”

“That saves me some work, but I might have something better. What if I told you the perfect time to break into that apartment to get some evidence would be between 8am and 9am tomorrow?” Amusement crept into Babs’ voice. “Turns out he’s doing an interview with Vicki Vale. And if anyone would like to go view it in person, I have no doubt the producers would gladly welcome and save some seats for one Bruce Wayne and at least one of his children.”

…

The next morning, Dick found himself waiting with Tim, Cass, and Damian in front of the TV station while Bruce pulled some strings. While they were there, Stephanie worked on getting into the author’s apartment to attempt to get some DNA evidence for Bruce. She kept sending occasional updates. With how controlling Bruce could be when it came to things involving their family, Dick was surprised he was willing to let her do it.

If Dick had to guess, the reason dealt with what they discovered. Jason’s grave was indeed empty. The lid had been broken from the inside, giving credence to Tim’s theory. Afterwards, they headed to the apartment where the author lived. The man had been sleeping in his bed when they took their places on the building across the street, but he must have felt their eyes on him seeing as he woke up just long enough to get up and close the curtains. If Dick wasn’t mistaken, Jason had briefly glanced at them.

Even though they had to continue their patrols, Bruce kept going back to the vantage point. Seeing as he was more non-verbal than usual when he returned to the Cave, Dick doubted he got another glance at the author.

After checking another update from Stephanie, Dick mulled over the fact he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about possibly seeing Jason again after so many years. The wary optimism from the previous night had changed into a nervous discomfort.

Jason, and Dick was pretty sure it was their Jason, had been alone for over five years. He didn’t know who he was or what happened to him. He likely didn’t even remember them. It hurt in a way Dick wasn’t familiar with. He was used to the sharp pain of loss that slowly dulled over the years, but this was a gnawing pain that seemed similar to guilt or longing. Maybe it was a combination of both. Dick didn’t want to have to treat his brother like a stranger after all this time.

There was also the possibility that by simply approaching him, they risked pulling him back into the vigilante world. He’d been out of the game for years. None of them knew how much of his training he may or may not remember. Would he want to come back to it? If he was honest, he didn’t want Jason to deal with the dangers and trauma of the job ever again, even if he wanted to once again fly across the rooftops of Gotham with his brother.

“Are you ready?” Bruce was back. He looked worn out in a way Dick had rarely seen. The combination of grief and guilt must have been taking a toll on him. The man was also trying to fight against hope because if this was just a doppelgänger or clone, it might break him all over again.

About ten minutes later, they were shown to their seats in the studio. Several members of the audience noticed their presence and began whispering. Didn’t they have anything better to do than gossip about them? Probably not. Keeping up with their family was a pastime of the city after all.

As the show started, Dick had to do has best to keep from fidgeting. He wasn’t interested in the stories or gossip of the first half of the show. Sure, sometimes that information was useful to their main job, but everything presented that particular day was old news to him.

Then the second half of the show started, and Dick’s breath hitched as he saw his brother walk on to the set. Although he’d seen a slightly out of focus image of his brother the previous night, this was different. Jason was tall and broad and looked as if he’d never been dead. But he didn’t look completely healthy. There was an unnatural leanness about him, much like he was when he was first brought to the Manor. Had he been eating properly? Or was it an unfortunate result of the recovery process? His coma had been long enough to cause muscle atrophy.

Then there were the scars. In the fluorescent studio lights, they could easily see the slight discoloration of the scars that littered his face and bare forearms. It made him look dangerous, and Dick could almost feel the rest of the audience recoil. In Gotham, scars like that tended to suggest involvement with criminals.

Interestingly, when Vicki caught sight of Jason for the first time, her eyes briefly widened in recognition. She’d interviewed their family enough over the years to be familiar with their appearances, and Dick could still remember the debate over whether or not she ever figured out their identities.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Doe, or do you prefer Mr. Peters?” she asked in a friendly but professional voice as Jason sat across from her after a handshake.

He chuckled. It was a hoarse but pleasant sound. “Jay’s fine, but I should probably explain my pen name. I’m considered a ‘John Doe’, an unidentified person. I have no idea who I was before waking up in that hospital, and no one else seems to either. When I started using the writing forums, I used ‘John Doe’ as a joke, and it’s kind of stuck.” His posture was open and appeared relaxed, but his eyes hardened slightly. So he wasn’t as unbothered by the situation as he appeared.

“I had been wondering about that.” Vicki was all smiles. “Is that why you’ve remained out of the spotlight?”

“You could say that.” He flashed her a crooked smile Dick recognized as the same one Jason used to try to charm people.

“What changed? I’m surprised you were willing to come on the show.”

He seemed to look past her for a moment. “Part of it was the contest. I’ll be working with the winner, and since it looks like I got into a fight with a blender and lost,” he traced some of the scars on his left arm, “the publishing team thought it was a good idea to prove I’m not secretly a Family enforcer or associated with any of the Rogues. But if you want me to be honest, I’m just tired of not having a provable identity. I want to be able to buy my own damn cigarettes.”

That statement caught Vicki and most of the audience off guard, but Dick had to stifle a laugh. Of all the things he could have said, he brought up his addiction to nicotine. He had thought Jason had quit by the time he died, but maybe it was a piece of his old life he somewhat remembered. They had theorized he started regularly smoking to help stave off hunger. Maybe that’s why he picked it up again. But since Jason was smirking, he said it to at least partially throw Vicki off.

“Of all things, cigarettes?”

Jason shrugged as he shifted positions. “Why not? That’s one of those rite of passage things, and I’m getting tired of having to bum them off of everyone. I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions… I think.”

She gave him a polite smile. “Let’s move on to your books. They’ve become extremely popular among the teens and young adults of Gotham. Why do you think that is?”

“Just like any writer, I’d like to think it’s my skills on telling an engaging story. But if I’ve learned anything from Internet forums, the real answer lies in how connected the readers feel to the main characters and how easily they can make fan fiction out of it.”

While Jason’s smile remained pleasant, Vicki’s became forced at the mention of fan fiction. She probably found the very explicit fics between her and other prominent figures of Gotham, including Bruce. Dick was still mad at Stephanie for making everyone aware of the fiction that existed about their hero personas. He could have lived without knowing.

“I think it’s a little more than that,” Vicki compromised as her expression returned to a more natural one. “How about taking us through your writing process. I’m sure the viewers would like to get a glimpse of the process.”

Jason didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head and bit his lip, something he used to do all the time when he first came to the Manor when he wasn’t sure how to phrase something. It was one of the few hints of insecurity he’d let them see. “There isn’t really a process. A lot of my books started off as me writing random phrases. Like ‘the button to open the door was under the name plate on the desk’. Or ‘the only way to disarm the explosive was hitting the blue marker on the other side of the room’. There are days when I’ll spend hours doing it because I need them out of my head, but…” He lifted his hands and flexed them a few times. His fingers looked stiff. “I can’t physically write for long periods. Too much damage.”

He shifted again. “So, I started putting them in a computer document since it was easier to handle and organize. Some phrases just went better with others. Eventually, I realized I had these summaries of fictional events written like a police report. But it didn’t feel right to leave them like that, so I started adding more details that just seemed right. Then the next thing I knew, I had a bunch of stories. I still write like that.”

Dick found himself shaking his head. “He died, came back, doesn’t remember anything, and still writes reports? I don’t know if I should be in awe or concerned,” he whispered to himself which made Cass and Tim chuckle.

“Are you sure they’re fictional?” Vicki questioned. “I’m sure it’s been pointed out to you that your works almost feel like they’re written from the point of view of one of Gotham’s vigilantes. Perhaps someone in your family worked for the police, a stenographer, or even one of the city’s newspapers.”

He snorted. “The GCPD couldn’t identify me, so I doubt I had family there. Unless whoever it was happened to be that corrupt, and when it comes to the GCPD, that’s a possibility.” When Vicki’s eyebrows rose in surprise, Jason gave her a wry smile. “Just because I don’t remember my past doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I know the Commissioner has done a lot to help, but things still aren’t great. As for the others, that’s a possibility, but they don’t feel right.”

“And today on what you don’t say on live TV in Gotham,” Tim murmured, stunned. Almost everyone in Gotham knew there was corruption in most levels of office, including the police, but there was a real danger in acknowledging it publicly. Jason hadn’t said anything that pointed fingers at anyone, yet, but he might not realize some of the knowledge he had wasn’t public knowledge.

Vicki also knew it was a dangerous topic and quickly shifted the conversation. “Let’s talk about the contest itself. There have been a lot of criticism about how the winner of the contest is Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne’s youngest son.”

Dick could feel how Damian tensed so he put a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t the time,” he whispered to him. “Wait until after the show.”

“I haven’t heard anything like that. How about you enlighten me.” Jason’s voice sounded light, but there was an edge to it. He also shifted forward so his forearms were resting on his thighs. He absolutely knew what these criticisms were, and he wasn’t happy about it.

The reporter caught it too. “People believe he should have been disqualified because of his status in Gotham,” she explained with an apologetic smile, suggesting she didn’t agree.

“And if I happened to choose someone from the Bowery or Crime Alley, there would be complaints about the person being a charity case.” All previous humor had vanished from Jason’s expression and voice. “I specifically requested two things from Gotham Publishing when they brought up the contest: that all Gotham middle and high schools would be allowed to participate and that I wouldn’t be allowed to see any names. Money and home life had nothing to do with my choice. Everything was based on talent alone.”

He shifted so he was sitting up straight which allowed the fluorescent lights to highlight the scars on his face. “The winner has a rich dad, so what? Just like anyone else, he should be recognized for his own talent instead of being forced to walk in his parents’ shadow all the time. The only way I’d find issue with my choice is if we found out the kid’s dad was the one who actually drew it.”

During Jason’s explanation, Dick kept an eye on Damian. His youngest brother’s eyes had widened slightly in surprise followed by a slight smile. While he was sure Damian would never outright admit it, he was pleased by Jason’s response.

Though Damian was surprised by the defense, Dick wasn’t. Whether it was when he was acting as Robin or just being himself, Jason dealt with a lot of people judging him and their family. Although he wasn’t supposed to admit it, one of his favorite memories of Jason was finding out he got into a fight on his behalf. It wasn’t often his brother got into trouble at school, but he was being teased by boys who didn’t appreciate his former status as a street kid. It hadn’t been until they insulted Dick that he leapt to action. Alfred had personally called him to relay the story. Feeling oddly touched, Dick then liberated his brother from his room and treated him to ice cream. Even though he knew otherwise, he liked to believe Bruce never found out.

“Out of curiosity, do you think the Bruce Wayne would have done that? What?” Vicki genuinely looked puzzled when Jason snorted.

“I’m absolutely positive Bruce Wayne didn’t sketch a scene from my book. It’s not his style.” Confusion briefly crossed his face as he finished his statement. He clearly wasn’t sure why he knew that.

Vicki noticed it too. “You sound pretty certain of that. Have you met him before?”

“Since I woke up after whatever happened, no. Before that… I’m not sure.” He leaned back and briefly closed his eyes. “There are places and names that are familiar to me, but I haven’t been able to figure out why.” A sigh escaped him as he shifted again. “No one knows if I’ll ever get my memories back, not all amnesiacs do, and looking at the remnants of what happened to me, I’m not sure I want to. But at the same time, if someone’s missing me, they at least should know I’m here even if I don’t know who they are.” A sardonic smile crossed his face. “But seeing as I didn’t match any missing persons cases, I was probably never missed.”

His brother’s words felt like a slap in the face. Jason thought he’d never been missed, but that was so far from the truth. His death nearly destroyed their family. Bruce spiraled into a self-destructive depression, and Dick… The guilt had eaten at him to the point it manifested as nightmares and hallucinations. While they did lessen over the years, they never entirely vanished.

“On a lighter note, do you think you could give us a quick preview of your next book?”

Jason gave a mischievous grin. “Where’s the fun in that? But I will give you this hint: sometimes a mask is more than a mask to those who wear it.”

“That’s not ominous at all. But that’s it for time! Thank you so much for coming on the show.”

“It was my pleasure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes:

depending on which version you’re reading, either Dick had an extremely antagonist relationship with Jason during the latter’s years as Robin, or it was good but distant. I prefer the good but distant..

In a mostly a Nightwing centered comic during the Discowing era, which I think is Nightwing: Year One, we learn that Bruce has a test to see if his Robins are ready for being in the field. It’s called “the Gauntlet”, and it’s a mock situation. Dick happened to be in town when Jason was running his, and of course, it went from a mock situation to a real one.

John Doe 47 – I’m not sure how many people are aware of this, but John and Jane Does sometimes get numbered if there are a lot of unidentified people discovered in a specific geographic range.

Damian did die, and Bruce literally went to Hell and back to bring him home.

In case the events of Infinite Crisis weren’t well known, Superboy Prime didn’t start off as evil. In his world, superheroes were comic book characters, but a chance encounter with the main universe’s Superman caused his own powers to manifest and then he ended up following Superman back to the main universe. He got super homesick and somewhat manipulated, and then went off the deep end. Due to plot, he ended up punching the “Source Wall” a couple times which caused ripples in reality which caused things to change across the universes. You’ll also hear it phrased as “punching the timetime.”

Jason’s resurrection is probably the best-known change that occurred outside of the creation and destruction of some of the alternative universes. But the Doom Patrol was very effected by it too – Elasti-Girl and Negative Man came back to life, and Chief was returned to his original body. A lot of back stories were also re-written. Do we know if civilians were affected? Not really. Am I going say they were? Yes

I am making a nod towards Arkham Knight and how Vicki Vale had her own talk show. This is my AU, and I conduct things as I want. I know she’s mostly a photojournalist in the comics. She can do both.

Nicotine does suppress appetite as well as increasing the rate of metabolism. It’s part of the reason a lot of people who stop smoking tend to gain a little bit of weight in the months that follow.

It’s also well known that muscle often atrophies if you’re in a coma for long periods. Jason was in one for several months after his resurrection per Red Hood: the Lost Days. Realistically, he’d be thin afterwards.

As a fan fic writer, I know that we sometimes do God’s work. I also know we sometimes make crimes against humanity. You also can’t tell me that Stephanie wouldn’t go searching for hero-related fanfiction to use as a weapon against the family.

#DC comics #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #Jason todd #Red Hood #Writer AU #tw amnesia #temporary amnesia #fanfiction #fanfic #Jason is an amnesiac writer and is just living his life

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