#And Jason's Robin cape practically swallowed him whole

[bongo-smash]

Someone help me I'm thinking about the 'kid in a yellow raincoat' horror trope in relation to Jason

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Ties That Bind

Strings of Fate alt pov. (Soulmate!AU) Or, Jason Todd's soulmates see the very best in him, even if he doesn't see it in himself. ~3.3k words

When Bruce Wayne meets Jason Todd, he's wearing enough Kevlar to stop a small missile. The kid in the red hoodie is hardly his first soulmate, but he is the first to steal the tires off the batmobile.

He wavers at the sight. The kid's clearly too small for his age. Bruce is already mentally setting aside a trust fund for him, considering what favors he can call in to get the kid into Gotham Prep.

The dark blue string that glows between them makes something in him soften, even if he should know better. His attention trails between the new string, the boy, and the other, more frayed string that leads to his eldest son.

He wonders vaguely if this string will fray, too. (It will do worse. It will grey and vanish, and Bruce Wayne Batman will fail another soulmate)

He opens his mouth to speak, to ask why he's out here, if he has some place to go, if his family knows he's here, but the sound of metal clings through the alley, and the kid runs.

It won't be hard, for Batman to catch up to him.

It will be hard to earn Jason Todd's trust.

It won't be hard when a new Robin flies by his side.

It won't be hard to smile, to laugh, to see hope and light in Gotham.

It won't be hard at all, to see the best in his son, to see all the good that makes up Jason Todd.

It will be hard to hold his son in his arms. It will be harder to know he's failed him.

It will be impossible, as the years pass, to not flinch every time he looks down at his index finger and sees an empty space where a string should be.

Alfred Pennyworth has gained and lost many strings in his life. He cherishes the ones that shine, neatly tied around his arms and fingers.

He meets his second grandson in the batcave.

The boy is flighty, untrusting, and Alfred loves him all the more for it. It takes sheer patience, good books, and many plates of cookies to earn Jason Todd's reluctant trust. Alfred's proud to be one of the few people who can say Jason is relaxed in their presence.

He's proud as he watches Jason save lives, study, laugh, and bring joy. Joy. He brings it to so many people, even people who aren't his soulmate, without asking for any return.

Yes, Alfred Pennyworth is proud. He's proud, even as he watches the blue string fray and fade. He's proud as they lower a small casket into the ground.

He's still proud, when no one sees the tears that spill when he makes a recipe that used to have a second set of hands helping.

Barbara Gordan is Batgirl. She's quick on her feet, stronger than people give her credit for, and just as smart as any other vigilante out there. So, she's not surprised to see a purple string appear between her and the newest Robin.

He's small, but fast and doesn't show an ounce of fear even as she pulls him out of the way of a bullet. Her heart melts a little when he smiles at her, gap toothed and bright, and she can't help but smile back.

She may miss the practiced partnership she had with Dick, but Jason makes a home for himself in her life. Batgirl watches Robin's back, and he's just as loyal and selfless in return.

Barbara knows he's destined for great things. She can see it in the way he takes time to talk to the citizens of crime alley, to pet and feed the strays that hide from most people.

It's why she sobs when the purple string breaks. It's why she steels herself to be better, to try harder, to never let another Robin be without a Batgirl.

(She will fail at this. It will plague her. She will become stronger, better, and anything she needs to be)

Dick Grayson is not impressed by the boy wearing his colors. He's tiny, and his cape seems to swallow him whole. But he did manage to land silently next to him on the roof overlooking Penguins' latest operation.

Dick's not exactly sure why the kids here, he definitely didn't tell anyone he was going to be in Gotham. But, if the blue string glowing between them is anything to go by, they were gonna meet eventually.

He didn't mean to make a face at the new Robin, really, he just wasn't ready to meet him.

He wanted to be in and out of Gotham, not trying to deal with another soulmate he never asked for. Not while the name Nightwing is still new and the blue suit doesn't quite feel right sometimes.

Jason doesn't know any of this. (Yes, he knows the kids' names. Yes, he's been keeping tabs on Bruce.) So, Dick Grayson steadies himself and invites the kid to team up.

Robin Jason fights well, knows when to duck and when to fight dirty. Nightwing leaves Gotham feeling lighter and heavier all at once.

He'll visit his brother(?) a few weeks later, they'll get ice cream and show off to each other and it'll be nice. Jason will hand off a bag full of Alfred's cooking, and a plate of cookies he shyly admits he helped make.

Dick silently promises to be better to the kid who wears his family's colors.

He never gets the chance. Jason is dead and buried by the time he returns to Earth with the Titans. Another soulmate dies in the colors meant to spread joy and hope. (This will change him forever)

Talia al Ghul did not expect a blue string to bind her to Jason Todd. She plans for nearly everything, expects the worst, and hopes for the best.

So, when she found her Beloved's son wandering in a daze, she should have been prepared for the shimmering, ocean blue string to tie itself to her left index finger when he looked at her.

(She wasn't, and she'll stare between Jason's string, and the one on her right index finger leading to her other son for an entire night)

Thalia will take him back to Nanda Parbat, out of duty, out of hope that if she can help Jason, it will bring Bruce back to her, and out of love. The boy follows her– the string– like it's the only thing that matters.

She will never admit it, but it will break her heart. She chances the Lazarus Pit, it helps and hurts him all at once. He no longer follows her around. He trains until there's hardly a soul in the League he can not beat.

Talia watches her son become aimless, restless, and tormented by the past. She hopes with all that she has, and introduces him to Damian.

She knows a blue string forms between them when Jason flinches. He leaves in the night, and takes a part of her with him.

She understands why. It doesn't stop her from tracking him from afar until he finds himself in Gotham again, parading around under the name of his killer. Her beloved will understand soon enough, and she hopes her son will find a home again.

Batman meets Red Hood on a crumbling roof in Crime Alley. The crime lord has been a thorn in his and the GCPDs side for months. He sees the glimmer of a string start to form, but doesn't get to process it before Red Hood is unloading a clip at him.

He dives out of the way, and by the time he comes out of his roll, Red Hood is gone. Batman checks for the new string. But there isn't one, no new line leading from him to a soulmate. He checks again.

Bruce Wayne loses all the air in his lungs when he realizes what has changed. It doesn't make sense. It can't be possible. But there's no lying when it comes to strings. Jason Todd is Red Hood. And for once, Batman doesn't have a plan.

Tim Drake knows soulmates are precious. Each string he's gained is worth cherishing. Each string he's lost is a scar. (He traces where they used to be when he can't sleep)

Tim Drake knows who Red Hood is. Was it a surprise? Sure, it can only mean good things for his family, even if Red Hood is running the majority of crime in Gotham. Jason was the light of Gotham, after all.

He believes that with his whole heart. Which is why he's cautiously excited when a royal blue string ties from his wrist to Red Hood.

It's also why he laughs when Jason Todd breaks half the bones in his body. He's dealt with worse, and he breaks a few of Red Hood's bones in return.

Tim is still laughing when Red Hood stumbles away and leaves. It's kind of funny, he's lost almost all of his best friends, and now he has a brother who hates him. But it's not all bad, he decides, the tracker he managed to get into Jason's jacket will be plenty useful.

Dick Grayson finds Jason Todd by his favorite gargoyle. It's the only thing still familiar about him. But as the string reforms between him, something in his soul slots into place. He sits next to him and talks.

He's not exactly sure what he talks about, but he talks and talks until he's not sure what to say and then talks some more. Jason never answers, but he doesn't leave either. It's enough, it's a start, and he tells his little brother to visit Alfred some time when he goes to leave.

(Red Hood will show up in Blüdhaven later that month. They will work a case together, it will be sloppy and then won't know each other's blind spots. Dick hasn't had so much fun in years)

Alfred Pennyworth is making tea in the kitchen of Wayne Manor when his second grandson nearly gives him a heart attack. One moment, he's alone, and the next, the man who used to be Gotham's biggest crime lord is standing five feet away.

They don't talk much, but Jason still remembers how to make his favorite cup of tea. Alfreds packs up enough food to feed him for a week, and makes him promise to at least call once a month.

Alfred is proud to say he gets a call once a week, and a time to meet out in the city once a month. He's even prouder to say his grandson has grown and learned and thrived.

Barbara Gordan is Oracle, and she's damn good at what she does. She's working intel for the Birds of Prey when the motion sensors around the clock tower go off.

She turns just in time to see the purple string form between her and Red Hood. He takes off his helmet. She appreciates that.

He looks lost for words. She feels lost for words. But she finds them anyway. She tells him it's good to see him, and it really is. She's been keeping tabs on him, knows what he's trying to do, trying to be. He hesitantly tells her he's going to be out of Gotham for a while.

Oracle hands him a comlink before he leaves. She tells him it's her own personal line, not connected at all to The Bat. She tells him to keep in touch. (She knows he'll listen)

Both versions of The Outlaws adore Jason Todd. Arsenal and Starfire, Artemis and Bizzaro, all find good in the purple string that ties them to Red Hood. The team isn't a magical fix all, and sometimes what they do isn't right, but it's theirs.

It's theirs, and they have each other even when it seems like there's nothing else. There's a comfort in that, a comfort in the steady glow of the purple string. There's a comfort in knowing their soulmate would take on the world at their side.

Spoiler knows she shouldn't be in Crime Alley, knows that the newly returned Red Hood doesn't appreciate Bats in his territory. But she's not a Bat, so she thinks she's earned an exception. And if she's being honest, she could use someone to talk to.

Her other soulmates, the other vigilantes, well, there's been a distance between her and them since her return. So, yeah, maybe she's a little lonely and a little hurt, and maybe she's willing to risk getting shot over the chance Red Hood is one of her soulmates. (And that he'll understand)

She's optimistic when a purple string forms between them, but less so when he tells her to leave. Stephanie's never been good at following directions, so she stays. He doesn't shoot her, which she takes as permission to come back again.

And she does. She comes back again and again. She brings him coffee. After a few times, he actually takes his helmet off to drink it. Jason's a good listener, and she really doesn't mean to spill her sob story about dying and knowing what it's like to reform a string.

She knows he's dealt with enough of that. But he doesn't make fun of her, doesn't tell her to get over herself. He just pats her shoulder when she goes to leave that night. (She cries when the news reports on Red Hood delivering Black Mask to prison only two days later)

Cassandra Cain is skilled and very good at what she does. She knows this, and she's proud of it. She smiles behind her mask when she makes her new brother jolt in surprise.

If anything, he should have been paying more attention to the thugs around him; she'd taken out more than half of them before he realized she was there.

She pokes at the string connecting them, incredibly pleased it's the color she wanted it to be. She pats her little brother's arm and leaves the scene, her night is hardly over after all.

Cass doesn't need to ask for his address, she already knows it. So, she happily makes herself at home on his couch at least once a week. He puts on movies for them to watch, even though she can tell he's not exactly sure what to do with her.

She calls him 'baby brother', and he learns how to make her favorite treats in return. She likes that he bends down so she can ruffle his hair, and makes a note of how he leans into the touch. Her soulmate definitely needs more hugs.

Damian Wayne can handle himself. He's Robin. He's an Al Ghul. He's the blood son of the Bat. So he doesn't need his soulmate's help. But his mother always told him Todd is skilled. Todd has a bleeding heart for everyone. He can use that.

He's definitely not trying to work up the courage to enter Red Hood's territory, when the person in question jumps down next to him. Huh. He didn't sense him coming. Maybe he's lost more blood than he's thought.

"Mother told me to seek you if I ever needed anything," Damian tells him, and bites back a wince. Those aren't the words he wanted. He sounds like a child and he doesn't need anything from Jason Todd.

Todd is quiet for a moment, and Damian expects to be turned away. But he's not, he's led to a safehouse instead. He's able to patch his wounds up without Todd noticing, and the next night, he goes into battle with a brother at his side. (They fight like they've been spent years at each other's sides)

Duke Thomas has heard all the stories about Jason Todd. He's curious, sue him, so he seeks out Red Hood just after the sun starts to set. Duke nods like he expected it to happen when he sees the blue string that ties around his forearm. (He wasn't sure it would, but it's a shiny, good color)

Red Hood eyes him, or at least Duke assumes he does. It's kind of hard to tell with the helmet. "Do you need something," Jason asks.

Duke doesn't actually have a plan past this. But he's Signal, and he's great at thinking on his feet, so he asks Jason if he's ever had the chili dogs a couple blocks away.

He's surprised when Jason says no, and he's even more surprised when they end up eating half of food carts' chili dogs.

It ends up being fun, taking down some thugs trying to rob a bank, with Red Hood fighting alongside him. Duke throws out a few jokes, and he manages to make Jason laugh. (He will brag about it to the rest of his soulmates later)

Duke grins when he gets handed a number at the end of the night. He's proud and only a little smug to have seemingly impressed his newest brother. (He will also brag about this)

You were not anticipating getting mugged tonight. Yes, it's always a possibility in Gotham. But you were careful, the street you were on had working lights! So it's annoying when a group of men try to get you to hand over your things.

You're relieved when Red Hood drops down from seemingly out of nowhere to take them out. But you're not completely sure what to feel when a red string ties itself to your pinkie and leads right to him.

He doesn't seem to know what to feel either, because you're just staring at each other in silence on an empty street. It makes you a little braver to see him as knocked off center as you are, at least you think that's what he's feeling.

It's hard to tell when he hasn't moved, and his helmet is dipped down to get a better look at you. So, you break the silence and tell him your name.

His helmet snaps up, "What?"

Oh. Maybe he wasn't looking at you. You tentatively repeat your name, and for a second dread pools in your gut. What if he wants nothing to do with you? What if he leaves?

Soulmates not wanting each other are rare, but not exactly unheard of. You step towards him, ready to plead your case on giving you a chance.

"Red Hood," he supplies, cutting you off before you can speak. It's entirely unhelpful. You know who he is. You think this is his way of keeping the distance.

But, it's not. That thought barely gets to form before Red Hood offers to walk you home.

He keeps coming back, keeps hovering on your fire escape until you start to invite him inside. And soon enough, Jason Todd becomes a part of everything in your life.

He's sweet, kind, and so, so careful. He tugs your string when he's late to come home, a reassurance. He barely leaves your side, the first time you meet his sister.

Your soulmate is good. He makes you happy. You so badly want to be good to him, to make him happy too. You think you do, at least sometimes.

He smiled when you offered to watch his brother's dog, kissed you senseless the first time you made his grandfather's cookies.

You're not there, when Bruce Wayne offers his son a velvet box, a ring passed down from Wayne to Wayne nestled inside. You're asleep, curled into his side when he vows to be brave for you.

But you're there and wide awake when Jason Todd pulls the box from his jacket and drops down to one knee. You're there when he smiles nervously at you, tells you he's never been good at this kind of thing, at anything, really. But you make him feel like he is.

He tells you he loves you. He tells you he doesn't need a red string to know you're his soulmate. He asks you to marry him.

You say yes while peppering his face with kisses. You're giddy, when he slides the ring onto your finger, his smile matching yours.

He kisses you, again and again, and the glowing red string that ties you together seems to sing.

[jaydicksummerexchange]

2021 JDSE Release post: Saturday August 28

[ ❤ Works posted so far! ❤ ]

Happy Baturday :D 🦇❤��💙

Here are today’s posted works:

Can't Get You Out of My Head (Please Stay) by Anonymous for nyxkvistad [Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, 7.6k words]

Tags: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - College/University, Roommates, …(click for more tags)

Summary: Jason's first semester at college hadn't gone the way he'd hoped. He's trying to stay positive about the second one, and getting a new roommate should have gone a long way in making things better. The guy is hardly ever there, but Jason can't seem to think about anything else.

savior(s) of the broken by Anonymous for epistemology [Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, 13.1k words]

Tags: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne (Background), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned) - Character, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Identity Porn, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling D…(click for more tags)

Summary: “I could have taken care of them alone,” says the guy he just saved, finally coming out in the light to watch the last of the gang scramble away as fast as he could. “But thanks.”

Jason turns, a quip ready on his lips, but his breath gets taken away by the unexpected sigh.

Because, right here in front of him and none the wiser, is Dick Grayson himself — Nightwing, leader of the Titans, former Robin, favored son of Batman.

His big brother.

OR: Red Hood saves Dick Grayson from a mugging. Everything spirals out of his control, then.

Children of Prometheus by Anonymous for salvadore [Mature, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, 9.7k words]

Tags: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Space, …(click for more tags)

Summary: Dick Grayson is commander on the Nightwing, a new Mission starship with an incredible destiny—to combat the universe-swallowing embodiment of fear with the power of life, will, and love. But there are no human heroes here to bring forth these supposed powers. Just a cyborg commander who has sacrificed his flesh to the Mission’s greater good and an android held hostage, atoning for desertion with this suicide mission.

we're not broken just bent (and we can learn to love again) by Anonymous for spacecapes [Explicit, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, 6.8k words]

Tags: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Rape Recovery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Fluff and Angst, Past Rape/Non-con, …(click for more tags)

Summary: In which Dick and Jason get together, Dick has PTSD from past sexual assault, that has a bigger impact than Dick wants or expects it to, and it leads to difficult challenges in their sex life and relationship. They work through that struggle together, including a whole heap of hurt/comfort, and figuring out what a happy, healthy sex life can look like, after.

The Rescue by Anonymous for Veero [Not Rated, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, 5.3k words]

Tags: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Harvey Dent, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Not Canon Compliant, in any way, no capes AU, Jedi Dick Grayson, Jedi Bruce Wayne, Mandalorian Harvey Dent, Mandalorian Jason Todd, Th…(click for more tags)

Summary: This is Jason’s first solo mission.

He is determined to do well. He knows their ship and what it can handle. He is practically bristling with anticipation.

Since he was only half paying attention to what his buir and the jetii were saying, Jason has to do some surmising—he’s going after a padawan. He guesses that it means a child.

He can track a child.

take my soul, lead me there by Anonymous for stevieraebarnes [Mature, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, 50k words]

Tags: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne, Rose Wilson, Artemis of Bana-Mighdall, no capes AU, Necromancer AU, kind of a bodyguard au, some murder mystery thrown in for kicks, Blood and Gore, not often but not …(click for more tags)

Summary: When necromancers start turning up murdered in Gotham, infamous City of the Dead, Bruce Wayne decides to bring in someone to protect his son, Jason. But there's more rot in his city than he knows, and the threat will strike closer to home than he anticipates.

Dick, clueless about necromancy, is just trying to get through it. But when he's forcibly recruited to babysit the uncooperative and unfairly attractive Jason, he finds himself neck-deep in a fight he knows nothing about, and has to win just to survive.

I’m a goddamn mess for you to clean up, but I like it by Anonymous for PrincessMariana [Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, 15.3k words]

Tags: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason was never adopted by Bruce, AKA he was never Robin, Jason Todd is a Crime Boss, Jason Todd is the Red Hood, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Jason Todd is a hot mess, We love Jason Todd in this house…(click for more tags)

Summary: Sometimes meet-cutes happen at hidden bookshops on a rainy day with coffee and oversized sweaters, and sometimes meet-cutes happen while you're breaking into your neighbor’s apartment after a drug deal gone wrong with 2 pints of blood less than you started the night off with.

OR

How Jason Todd, notorious crime boss of Gotham City, fell in love with Dick Grayson, AKA Nightwing, in one night.

[sarasapen]

White Roses and Scarlet Letters

Been awhile since I’ve posted or updated due to exams so I’m reposting the first four chapters because why not!

@jason-todd-squad @lucy-roo @rockyrocket15 @toleble @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @belovedbratwonder @aprilchagoyaaa @vespertxne @thatwaspossesion @attackonnat @roseangel013bf

Red Roses and Scarlet Letters

----- Like most people, your life had a routine. You’d wake up early and go for a jog or do some yoga, depending on the weather. Then you’d spend a half hour on your phone, before you glanced at the clock and scrambled to get ready on time. You normally met Dick for breakfast before making your way to work.

Generally, your nights and weekends were more entertaining. You spent your nights donning a domino mask and Kevlar, punching assholes and stopping crime. Saturdays were sleepover nights with Damian, and Sundays were girls’ days.

So, considering you were standing on a rooftop with dead bodies littered around you when you were supposed to be watching a movie, you were not happy.

“Robin, come to my coordinates.”

“Tt.”

You smile slightly, rolling your eyes before you turned your head, catching sight of a man with a red hood and a symbol on his chest. You eyed the symbol skeptically. “I didn’t know the Bats had a new associate.”

The man remained silent, staring you down. His fingers twitched, and you noticed the gun holsters on his thighs. Two guns. Five dead bodies. He had seven bullets left. Okay, so maybe Bruce didn’t have a new associate.

“You gonna threaten me, or shoot me?” You say nonchalantly, gripping your escrima sticks. He moves quickly, and you’re darting to the side before you fully internalise he’s pulling the trigger.

“Alright then,” you huff dryly. “Guess you’re shooting me.” He raises the gun again, and you backflip away from the next bullets, lunging in his direction. Five. Four. Three. The next bullet snags your cape- two- and you swing your leg and attempt to knock him back. He dodges the kick and intercepts your path, moving to flip you. You kick back off the wall, using that as leverage to swing your body around his. You slam your escrima stick into the back of his head the same time his fist comes into contact with your jaw. You slip from his body, and he used the opportunity to kick at your ribs, sending you stumbling. He lunges at you, causing you to slam against the wall. One of his hands is around your throat, cutting off your air supply, and the other is holding his loaded gun, pressed against your temple. You know you can easily break his arm from the position, but for some reason, you can’t seem to move. Even through his voice modulator, the man’s anger is clear when he speaks, the words he growls out making your blood run cold.

“You let Jason Todd die.”

Your eyes widen and you’re going to swing out but instead of shooting you, he drops the gun and slams you back into the wall, your head hitting the wall with a loud CRACK-

-and then all you see is black.

-----

The first thing you register is the pounding in your head.

You groggily try to sit up and wince at the bright lights. A hand on your shoulder pushes you back down- what? No, you need to get up, you need to-

“Lie down.” A voice commands and your body goes limp. The figure looks funny. He looks like a bat. And a man. Hey! Batman!

A whine emerges from your throat as your face scrunches up.

“I don’t wanna,” you protest weakly, trying to get up again. Your voice comes out scratchy, and your throat hurts when you talk. Suddenly there are two hands on both of your shoulders, keeping you on the bed.

“Do you want Alfred to scold?” The voice softens slightly. You shake your head, wincing when it hurts. Fingers dance along your hairline, soothing you.

“Rest. Once you’re better, the family’s going to have a chat.”

“Mkay,” you wrap your fingers around the wrist above your head, and you let sleep overtake you.

-----

When you wake up, you’re alone. Well, for approximately 0.3 seconds before Alfred enters through the door. He’s carrying some meds and soup. He stands over you, making sure you finish every last drop even though your throat hurts like a bitch.

You manage to convince him you’re fine, with Barbara's help, before you spend a good hour or so on trying to conceal the bruises on your neck.

Barbara drives you and the girls to Metropolis to pick up Kara before heading to Central City. Despite all the fun the others seem to be having, you can’t take your mind off the previous night, or off Jason. You had no idea who that man was, or how he knew you were connected to Jason.

The weight of Jason’s death had weighed down on you somewhat heavier than the rest of your family. Bruce became reckless, and almost killed multiple times. Dick went off the grid for 6 whole months, and when he returned, he acted like nothing had happened. No one knows what he did or where he went. Barbara stopped coming to the cave. She still went out on patrol, but didn’t talk to you. Alfred assumed you needed some space, so he gave you that.

As your family pulled away, you started falling into the dark abyss of depression. You resorted to self harm as a way of coping. After Alfred inquiring on your long-sleeves, you moved the cuts to your thighs. You fell so deep into the hole that one day, you grabbed some sleeping pills and swallowed about 20. Alfred noticed the bottle was empty, and he rushed to your bedroom in time.

That was around the time Tim popped up as Robin.

Despite trying to help you, your family never quite understood you. Perhaps Bruce did, better than the two of thought, but Bruce was rarely one to talk about his emotions. When Jason died, you felt like you were to blame. You were quite literally the Batgirl to his Robin. You always patrolled together, always hung around, plotting the next prank to pull on Dick. Considering the two of you were practically inseparable, you felt so damn guilty that Jason went to the warehouse himself. You should’ve gone with him. Maybe if you had gone with him, he would have still been alive.

The guilt had been gnawing at you for five years. There wasn’t a single damn day that you didn’t miss Jason. The day he died, you had furiously scribbled a letter that was about 5 pages long, listing all the reasons you hated him. You were angry, and you wanted to make sure he knew you were angry. The next day, you wrote a tear stained letter saying you loved him, and you were sorry for everything.

You then wrote him letters, one for every day that passed. This time, Day 1564, you reccounted the Red Hood guy occurrence, before telling him about this cute waiter that Dick said had been flirting with you at the cafe. You asked him, rhetorically, if you should go for it. You signed off as usual, saying you loved and missed him.

You slipped the letter into a red envelope, making your way to the garden of Wayne Manor. You couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched, but then you remembered Bruce had tinkered with the security, so that was probably it.

You moved towards the rose bushes, and eased your way into the tiny opening in between the white rose bushes. You grabbed a long wooden box you had been stashing there, slipping the latest letter inside. You shut it, placing it back in the bush, before you straightened.

Shoving your hands into your jacket pockets, you made your way to the living room, where Bruce was trying to get everyone’s attention.

“I have some information pertaining to the Red Hood. We all need to talk.”

-----

And So the Sky Shall Weep

-----

“We all need to talk.” Bruce moves to the grandfather clock, adjusting the time on it. The door swings open, and he goes in, beckoning for you to follow. Bruce stops in front of the Batcomputer, his face hard.

“You may want to sit down,” Bruce gestures to you, Barbara and Dick. Barbara complies, and Dick leans against the table. You do the same, crossing your arms. What could possibly be so shocking that Bruce wants you to sit down?

Bruce turns on the computer screen, and you hear Dick swear beside you. Barbara buries her head in her hand, letting out a choked ‘Oh my god’. Tim and Damian stop poking each other and pause. You seem to be the only one that’s got their shit together, but by the way Bruce is looking at you, you feel yourself unravelling and quick.

Because on the screen, bold and bright as day, the dna samples of Jason Todd and the Red Hood were a 100% match. That could only mean one thing.

“He’s alive?” Dick croaks, eyes shining with unshed tears. Bruce gave Dick a brisk nod as he placed a hand on Barbara’s shoulder.

“This concerns me how?” Damian drawls, earning a well deserved shove from Tim. Damian of course, retaliates, but Bruce ignores them. His eyes are trained on you, obviously concerned at how you’ve just frozen up.

“He’s dead.” You say, voice too loud and too far away.

“He’s alive-“ Bruce starts gently, but you cut him off.

“No!” You don’t realise you’re shouting until your throat burns painfully. That doesn’t seem to deter you though.“He’s dead! I saw his body! He can’t- he’s dead.”

You don’t want to believe Bruce, don’t want to believe the test. “It’s faulty,” you say.

“I sent it to seven different labs, all of them came back with the same report,” Bruce soothes.  You’re trembling, and Bruce reaches out to touch you. You push him away, walking backwards.

“I- I need to think.”

You sprint out of the Batcave, pushing past Alfred and out the door, getting on your bike and driving past the gate faster than you thought was possible. There was a strange sort of numbness that overwhelmed you, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the dam that held your feelings back broke. And you’re pretty sure you didn’t want to be around others when that happened.

You were unlocking the door of your apartment without properly registering it, your body moving on its own to put on your suit and grab your escrima sticks. Next thing you know, you’re on the roof of your building. Your eyes scan the skyline of Gotham, and you inhale deeply, letting the cool night air surround you. In. Out. In. Out. In-The rumble of clouds overhead breaks your focus, and you suddenly find yourself running.

You don’t know what you’re running from - or towards - but you just kept running. You leaped over the gaps in the buildings, hopping over ledges and power lines. Tears begin to blur your vision, but you don’t stop running. You regret that decision as soon as you trip over a plank of wood, flying forward. Luckily, or unluckily, the building had a ledge, which meant that instead of falling down 20 stories, your stomach collided with the ledge.

Hot tears fell from your eyes, and you didn’t bother trying to hold them back. You gripped the edge of the ledge tightly, your chest heaving as you choked on a sob. Lightning cracked nearby, and rain followed a millisecond later.

Five years. Five goddamn years. You mourned him for five years, you felt all that pain, all that guilt, and he was alive? You knew you were screaming when you felt your throat burn.

Screaming didn’t alleviate the weight on your chest, so you lifted your fist and brought it down on the concrete. The pain was shooting up your arm, but that didn’t stop you from hitting the ledge again. You felt like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum, frustrated and angry and sad, and having no clue on how to handle the situation. You screamed again, shoving the ledge and hitting it as if it could solve the problem.

Black gloves hands encircled you, gripping your wrists tightly and preventing you from hitting out. You thrashed in the hold, kicking out uselessly.

“You’ll hurt yourself!” Bruce’s voice came through. He hadn’t switched on his voice modulator.

“I don’t care!” You punctuated each word with a shove, but you slumped into his chest, closing your eyes. You’re sobs died down as Bruce held you, and you let the rain lull you to sleep.

-----

Love is Slowly Losing Your Mind

-----

Tick.

You can’t see.

Tock.

You can’t move.

Tick.

You can’t breathe.

Tock.

You hear footsteps.

Tick.

“She’s finally awake!”

Tock

You know that voice.

Tick

“Decided to join the party eh?”

Tock

Its always that voice.

Tick.

A cloth is ripped away from your face.

Tock.

Red lips smile right in front of you.

Tick.

Fuck.

Tock.

“Let’s play.”

Tick.

Your eyes snap open. You can’t breathe, you can’t move.

It was just a dream. You force yourself to close your eyes, focusing on the whirring of the fan above you as you calm your breathing. Just a dream, you tell yourself.

You sit up, pulling your hair into a ponytail and heading over to the bathroom. You brush your teeth, wash your face, and look in the mirror.

He can’t hurt you anymore.

You dress and go to the cafe, arriving half an hour early. A waitress places some coffee in front of you and you thank her with a smile. You don’t drink the coffee though.

The sound of the chair scraping on the floor causes you to look up, and Dick smiles down at you. Except this time, his smile isn’t genuine, it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks tired, and worn down, something that shocks you a little. Dick isn’t normally one to be anything less that happy.

He sits across you, swallowing, eyes darting anywhere but your face. When the waitress placed your usuals down, neither of you make a move to eat.

“So,” he starts, voice rough. He clears his throat, sighing heavily and running a hand across his face.

“So,” you agree, picking up your cup and lifting it to your mouth. You wrinkle your nose at the now cold beverage. You make eye contact with Dick and the unspoken question hangs in the air.

Now what?

He’s a mob boss, Dick’s raised eyebrow says.

He’s dangerous, your frown responds.

He almost killed you, Dick slumps further into his seat, eyes never leaving yours.

“He’s family,” you say, voice quiet. Dick closes his eyes for a moment. “Yeah. He is.”

You don’t say much else, and you part to go to your respective jobs. You reach your office, and there are no new cases or any overdue paperwork to deal with, which is a first. Your boss tells you to take the rest of the day off, so you do.

You walk around Gotham for hours, only going back home when the sun begins to set. You contemplate skipping patrol, but you know you need the exercise.

Suddenly you were 10 years old again, clinging onto Dick’s hand before your first patrol.

There’s nothing to be scared about, you rationalise. Absolutely nothing.

You were wrong.

You don’t make it very far, just two blocks away from your apartment, when you see the Red Hood.

-----

When Can I See You Again?

-----

You stumble onto the roof, fisting your cape on your side. He’s leaning against the edge of the building, his arms crossed. He seems to be watching you, or waiting for you, whichever it is, you’re not entirely sure.

He watches you for a moment, and you watch him, a voice in your head telling you that there’s no way in hell that’s Jason Todd.

Red Hood pushed himself off the wall, striding towards you and easily towering over you. Your heart is drumming in your ears, with him being so close to you that you can smell him, and the doubt begins to fade.

The scent is a deep, musky sort of aroma, whiffs of cigarette smoke and alcohol mixing in nicely. It’s strange, reminding you of dark and dingy corners of bars late at night, but at the same time it’s so incredibly him, so incredibly Jason, that you don’t have the heart to deny yourself a little hope anymore.

Especially not with that stupid leather jacket of his, making his arms look so good.

You swallow nervously, tilting your head up to look at him. If either of you move any closer, your chests would be brushing.

And then he moves. He takes a small step closer, one of his hands now on the small of your back and guiding you backwards, into the shadows, until your back touches a wall. You don’t know why your body lets him, why you’re not reacting to him dragging guiding you around.

He’s practically pressed against you, one of his legs between yours, the hand not on your back is resting on the wall on the side of his head. He’s so much taller than you, your head practically looking straight up to look at him.

You hear an intake of breath which could be him about to say something, but then your hands touch his mask gently. He flinches away, body tensing. His hand leaves your back and is suddenly gripping your neck, pressing you against the wall.

“You got some fuckin’ nerve,” he starts, voice gravelly. You don’t care, or seem to have heard him, really, your hands going straight back to his hood. “Take it off.”

“Given’ me orders, huh? Never would’ve thought  you-”

“Take the fucking thing off or get your hands off me!” You retort, tugging at his hand around your neck. Surprisingly, you don’t seem to mind it at all. Hood’s eyes narrow and he pulls back very slightly, his hands leaving you. You’re almost disappointed until he pulls his helmet off, dropping it onto the floor. Not a second passes before he’s closed in on you again, this time applying pressure on your neck.

You’re nearly gasping for air, but you don’t struggle or make any attempts to get out of his grasp. Instead, you look at him, memorising his features. His eyes have hardened, a new steel in them that wasn't there before, but somehow they’ve stayed exactly the same. You see his features soften just a little as you breathe out his name, and you watch as his pupils dilate. Jason - it’s so clearly Jason - smirks, his head dipping down to yours. You can feel his breath on your face, your eyes locked onto his.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking your jaw.

“I could destroy you,” he continued, voice soft and eerily soothing. “I could wreck you and ya wouldn’t stand a chance. Could snap this pretty little neck o’ yours.”

A normal person would be trembling, scared shitless in this situation. You… were not normal.

“What’s stopping you then?” You say, voice low and equally calm. You inhaled and god he smelled good.

“Nothin’ if you keep runnin’ that mouth.”

“I’m calling bullshit,” you say, smug under him, despite the fact that he has you pinned and his hand is tight around your throat. He cocks and eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “If you wanted to kill me you would’ve done it that other night.”

“Maybe I’m regretting’ leaving you alive,” he shoots back. You shrug, leaning your head back as if you were extremely comfortable. (Which, for the record, you totally were.) Jason - Red Hood?- lets his forehead rest against your for a moment, your lips almost brushing. You could just… tilt your head up…

With a heavy sigh, he releases you, taking a few steps away from you. He picks up his helmet, back turning towards you, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Next time I’m gonna kill you,” he says, voice not in the least bit threatening.

A sudden urge to touch him again courses through you, and you lunge towards him. His reflexes are still sharp, and he spins around, anticipating an attack. Your body slams into his, and he barely shifts. He only seems to stiffen when you wrap your arms around him. You press your cheek to his chest, breath shaky as you listen to his steady heartbeat. You don’t realise you’re crying until his gloved hand strokes your cheek. His other arm wraps around your shoulders awkwardly, unsure of how to react. You sniffle, arms tightening around him. He seems to get the hint and tightens his grip on you, his touch full of warmth and comfort.

You pull away first, and he avoids your gaze.

“You still gonna try to kill me?” You say, trying to lighten the moment. Your voice comes out a lot weaker than you would’ve liked.

Red Hood straightens up to his full height, staring at you head on.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

[unavenged-robin]

(Still based on DCeased&DCeased Unkillables. Spiritual sequel of this one because that's the mood, folks.)

Jason sees Damian in the Batman's costume for the first time.

-

“Don’t laugh”, Damian growls, and his voice is so much deeper than it used to be back when he was ten years old and he barely reached Jason’s chest, but it hasn't lost that particular brand of petulance that practically begs to be teased.

“I’m not laughing”, Jason lies, doing his best to keep a straight face.

Damian clicks his tongue and keeps studying the stack of paperwork in front of him in that elegantly indignant way of his.

“It’s just weird”, Jason continues after a moment, unsolicited. “You’ve got to give me that.”

“I don’t have to give you anything”, Damian answers. “My sympathy for your horrendous sense of humor least of all.”

“I didn’t say it was funny, I only said-”

“You were laughing”, Damian cuts him off, deadpan and matter-of-factly just like his dad used to be. That thought makes Jason bites the inside of his own cheek. He feels conflicted between the urge to laugh and this sadness that keeps eating at his insides.

“Maybe I was laughing a little bit”, he admits eventually. “But it’s just because it’s weird, you know, having a Batman who’s younger than me. Having a Superman who’s younger than me. I could’ve been the kindergarten teacher of half the Justice League right now. Let me laugh on it, otherwise my head will implode and you don’t want that.”

Another dismissive click of the tongue.

“That’s what you think.”

“That’s what I know, sweetheart.”

“I’m still an assassin”, Damian reminds him, almost affably. It used to be his favorite intimidation back in the days. Tim had probably heard that sentence too many times to count them.

“Nope, you’re not”, Jason laughs. “You’re the goddamn Batman now, kiddo. And that means no more assassin threats for you. You can’t afford it anymore.”

Damian stops reading Green Canary’s latest report and looks up for the first time since this whole little squabble started. The cowl is currently pulled back on his neck, his hair is so long it curls around his temples, and Jason makes a mental note to ask Alfred to arrange an impromptu haircutting session as soon as he can.

“Is that what’s bothering you?”, Damian asks, and maybe his intention was to sound aggressive, but Jason only hears the insecurity that almost breaks his voice.

“I didn-”

“Do you think that you should be the Batman?”, Damian continues in one quick breath, as if he believed that if he slowed his words down too much, they wouldn't come out of his mouth, and it’s obviously not a spur-of-the-moment thought that one, but something he’s probably mulled over since the very first moment he’s discovered Jason was alive.

And yet, he doesn't say it out of anger, he doesn't sound bitter, he doesn't even sound mad, but almost... hopeful? Yes, that’s what knocks the wind out of Jason: the idea of Damian actually asking him to take the cape and the cowl from his hands.

“No”, he refuses immediately, without even thinking. “My sweet lord, no. I can not be Batman.”

“Why not?”, Damian insists. “You wanted it, once.”

“I was crazy once. I was also dead once. And an Outlaw. And a killer. And a lot of awful things we don’t need to list right now”, Jason retorts. “Point is, I’m not good Batman material. But kid, if you don’t want to be Batman either, no one can force the responsibility on you, not even Bruce or - god forbid such thing from existing - his ghost.”

Damian shakes his head and leans back on his chair, looking exhausted.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“You are… older.”

Jason snorts.

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“You were Robin before me”, Damian adds.

Jason feels conflicted again. Once upon a time, he would’ve snapped, insulted Damian, and left the room slamming the door behind him. He would’ve disappeared for at least a couple of weeks, just to show up some time later and act like nothing had happened. Once upon a time, he could’ve afforded all of that. Now he can’t.

“Not all Robins want to be Batman, Damian”, he answers after a moment, because that’s all he can offer to the kid: white lies, and a shoulder to cry on. That’s all he’s good for, now.

Damian looks away from him and doesn’t comment. For a moment Jason wonders if maybe even Damian - the little assassin specifically bred for the job, the proud heir of the Wayne’s bloodline, Bruce’s one and only biological son - had dreamt of something different. It’s weird to even think about it, but.

“Good”, Damian announces.

“Good?”

“You would make an awful Batman.”

Jason laughs, and briefly considers the idea of walking over to the desk to give the kid a hug. In the end he decides against it. Damian may be the new Batman, but Jason’s not so sure he's given up his habit of carrying knives everywhere.

“On that we agree”, he answers simply.

He allows a few minutes to pass, then he clears his throat. He could leave it at that, with a shared laugh and a silent confirmation of support. But this is a brave new world, and they both deserve a little more than that, at this point.

“You will not”, he adds then, and Damian, who was just getting back to his papers, looks up at him again.

“You will be a great Batman. You already are”, Jason clarifies. “Bruce would be proud of you. And Dick too. Tim would probably have some smart remark about gnome-sized costumes, but he would be also very proud of what you’ve become.”

In spite of his lame humor attempt, he spots a watery gleam in the kid's eyes, so he hurries on before his courage fails him.

“And I am too. Just so you know it”, he concludes, looking at his own hands.

He pretends not to hear Damian swallowing back a few times. It’s not his business. Beside, if they start crying Cassandra and Alfred will hear them, and that wouldn’t be good.

“Okay”, Damian manages to say, and he almost succeeds in keeping his voice even. “Thanks.”

“Hey, what are estranged older brother for, right?”, Jason jokes.

Damian nods stiffly, then pulls the cowl back on his face.

Jason can’t say he blames him.

“You do look funny, though”, he says instead, and when Damian throws a knife at him he feels almost relieved.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Summer Lovin’ zine, where I wanted to do a light, fluffy, summer romance. With bonus Steph and Tim teasing Damian (as is their right) and Cassandra helping out where she could.

…

…

…

…

Endless fields of unripe wheat. A cloudless blue sky stretching as far as the eye can see. The occasional house poking out of an otherwise flat terrain. Damian stared outside the car window and clicked his tongue. No wonder his father had declined to come; there were no shadows here to hide in, only light.

 “What’s the matter?” Stephanie asked, an impish smile on her face as she poked his cheek. “Bored?”

 “Of course not.” He swatted her hand away but that only made her laugh. “We shouldn’t be here.”

 “Why?” From the driver’s seat, Tim glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. If Stephanie’s smile was teasing, his smirk was downright malicious. “Scared you’ll have fun?”

 Damian crossed his arms. He would never for the life of him understand what his father saw in that fake Robin. No, it went deeper than that—what did he see in most of his proteges? Stephanie didn’t take anything seriously, Tim didn’t have the skills, Dick was too fun-loving, and Jason had no control. The only not disappointing one in the bunch was Cassandra, and Damian feared that one day the others would infect her as well. He should have gotten rid of them while he had the chance. “We should be training, Drake,” Damian replied, irritation leaking into his voice.

“An important part of training is taking breaks.” Stephanie poked his cheek again. He was going to break her finger one day. “It’s summer, school’s out, and Bruce and Dick have Gotham covered. We can have a little vacation, the world’s not going to destroy itself without us.”

 “Without you, maybe,” Damian sneered. The effect was ruined as she pulled his cheek.

 “Without us,” she repeated, still sporting that insufferable smile. “If it’s serious, they’ll call us. It’s not like the League doesn’t know where the Kent farmhouse is.”

 Damian wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Surely the most dangerous man in the planet should have his parents hidden somewhere secure, instead of having their name on file. Villains broke into the JLA all the time as it was; it wouldn’t be that long before someone stumbled upon this badly kept secret.

 “You’re wasting your breath, Steph.” Tim shrugged, his eyes on the road. “He doesn’t know what a break is.”

 From the front passenger seat, Cassandra gave Damian a sympathetic smile. She had been silent till now, more than content to just listen. Which was probably why he preferred her to the others; she wasn’t a blabbermouth like the others. “A break can help your body recover,” she offered.

 At least that was practical advice for once. Damian leaned back in his seat. “I suppose.”

 “You’re such a softie to her and Dick.” Stephanie leaned back into her seat, finally leaving him alone.

 “It’s too bad Dick couldn’t come,” Tim sighed. “He could have muzzled the brat.”

 “Well, while we’re meeting our favourite aliens, he’s got his own alien to meet.” Stephanie waggled her brows before she and Tim burst into a fit of laughter. Leaning forward, she rested a hand on Cass’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, I’ll share mine with you.”

 “Okay?” Looking confused, Cassandra nodded.

 “And Damian’s got Jon,” Tim chimed in, exchanging a look with Steph.

 Wisely, Damian kept his mouth shut. With these two, almost any response he gave would only be ammo.

 -x-

 “Damian!”

 He barely had time to turn around before Jon barreled into him, knocking him over. Landing flat on his back, Damian grunted as his breath rushed out of him. Jon had little restraint in the best of times, and almost none when he was emotional. Frowning at the mop of dark hair on his chest, he rolled his friend off. “Kent.”

 “Kent,” Tim and Steph said at the same time and he didn’t have to see them to know they were wearing identical smiles.

 “Damian!” Pushing himself off the ground, Jon shot him a grumpy look.

 Quietly, Damian muttered, “Fine, Jon.”

 The idiot duo cackled behind him and he wasn’t sure if Jon’s bright smile was worth it. Picking himself off the ground, Damian didn’t bother to dust off his clothes before hauling Jon up. “Where’s my room?” he asked, dragging Jon along as he headed to the main house. “And please tell me those two are sleeping in the barn.”

 “Nah, they’ll be rooming with Conner and Kara, just like you’ll be with me.” Jon wrapped an arm around his back, almost skipping as they headed in. “It’ll be fun!”

 Fun. That wasn’t the word he’d use for it. Perhaps he could at least sabotage their beds after this.

 -x-

 Balancing a dagger between his two fingers, Damian studied the target. It was perhaps one of the simplest targets he’d practiced with, a static bale of hay only 50 yards down. A single red x made of cardboard sat on the bale. There was no challenge in this. Still, some practice was better than none. Raising his hand behind him, Damian whipped his arm forward and tossed the dagger.

 With a solid thwack, the dagger hit the target dead center.

 As expected. Child’s play, really.

 As though to cut into his preening, Jon applauded behind him. “Wow,” he cheered, his voice deadpan. “That was amazing.” Sarcasm dripped from his words as he hovered over the ground, giving Damian the most bored look possible.

 “There’s nothing else here to use,” Damian sniped back, not appreciating the reaction. It figured this was the place the Supers called home, this land of sunlight. The Kents owned few weapons, if one could call them that. A shotgun, several farming tools, and an oddly sharp kitchen knife were their defenses of choice. Miraculously, no supervillains had dared to take over this quaint town, and he could only chalk it up to luck. Probably the same luck that allowed all the Supers to fly without a single neighbour to report them.

 Not finished, Jon leaned forward, shielding his eyes with a hand. Fake squinting, he studied the target. “That’s, what, ten in a row? All in the same spot, somehow?” The scorn disappeared from his tone and Jon gave him a thumbs up. “That’s actually really cool.”

 Cool was again not a word Damian would use but he accepted the compliment. “If I couldn’t do that much, I’d hang up my cape.”

 “Right, right.” Jon landed on the ground next to him, clapping him on the back. “And you’re doing ten more of these?”

 “I need to keep up the practice,” Damian muttered, distracted by the tingling in his back. It had been happening recently, at Jon’s point of contact, and he wondered if it was some uncontrolled Kyptonian strength running through his flesh. “Even if the practice is subpar.”

 “Of course.” There was a mischievous twinkle in Jon’s eyes. “But you’re just going to get the same result. And it’s boring.”

 Rankled, Damian pulled away. “Practice is not—”

 “There’s more fun ways to practice instead.” Jon pounced, tackling him to the ground. “Let’s fight.”

 Well, that was certainly something Damian could get behind. Flipping them over, he smirked. “You’re on.”

 -x-

 “So, Damian, was it?” Ma Kent smiled at him kindly as she exited the kitchen. The smell of cooked chicken wafted through the air, filling the dining room. In her hands was a bright, flowery plastic bowl filled with Brussel sprouts. “I heard a lot about you.”

 Damian stared at her. The dining room was empty save for them—the others hadn’t yet come back from whatever wasteful endeavours they had planned and Jon was feeding Krypto. While he had begrudgingly accepted the fact that he’d have to eat dinner with everyone, there had better not be any expectations of conversation. He had planned to let Jon do all the talking, to cover up his silence, but that wasn’t possible right now. When Ma Kent smiled at him, he reluctantly replied, “I see.”

 “Ahaha, got a way with words, I see.” Chuckling, she set down the bowl. A bowl that did not match any of plates. Actually, now that he was paying attention, none of the big serving bowls matched, all of them hideous plastic monstrosities. Noticing his scornful expression, she rubbed her neck sheepishly. “I know what you’re thinking. I used to use my good china whenever someone came, but after two dinner attacks and one food fight, I’ve learned my lesson. If the powers are out, my plates stay in.”

 “I see.” Not that he had asked for clarifications. Not that he was curious in any way, shape, or form about it.

 “You really do have only one mode.” Laughing, she returned to the kitchen. “Like father, like son. Glad the rest of your lot didn’t turn out like this; don’t think I could have handled that much grumpiness at my table.”

 “I’m not grumpy,” he muttered under his breath.

 “Man, Krypto was hungry tonight!” Jon tumbled in through the window, ecstatic. Catching Damian’s expression, he cocked his head. “What, did I miss anything?”

 Resisting the urge to cross his arms (because he wasn’t grumpy, he was stoic), Damian gave him a surly look. “Nothing.”

 Ma Kent chuckled again. “Nothing, hun. Now make sure to wash those hands.”

-x-

 The stars were bright here. Sprawled on the roof, Damian leaned back and studied the night sky above him. Without Gotham’s pollution, the milky way was visible for once. Stars glittered above him, taking advantage of the moonless night. He had almost forgotten what the night sky could look like, what it had those nights long ago when he lived in the desert, training under his mother’s watchful eye.

 An almost silent presence approached him and Damian discretely reached into his pocket for a dagger. The stranger’s hand touched his, stilling it, and he looked up to find Cassandra Cain. She offered him a smile. “It is silent here,” she murmured, sitting down beside him.

 “I suppose.” Damian glanced at her, then at the fields below. It looked like a dark sea, threatening to swallow them whole. An owl hooted, crickets chirped, and all in all, it was far quieter here than it was in the city. Just when had he gotten used to the never-ending honking? Even the smell here was different. The farm felt clean.

 “It is,” she corrected, hugging her knees. She closed her eyes, listening. “It is…not bad to relax.”

 Not bad, perhaps, but not good either. Not when there were lives at stake in Gotham. Damian wouldn’t call himself a hero, not by any stretch of the word, but Gotham was Batman’s. Gotham was his and he was loathe to let its citizens die when they under his protection. “Isn’t it?”

 “No.” Cassandra closed her eyes. Words were hard for her, action easier—perhaps one of the things he respected so much about her. When she spoke, her words meant something, they were considered and honest. “Relaxing…you can recover. Recharge. See things differently.” Opening her eyes now, she smiled at him, a waxing moon. “See what you are protecting.”

 Damian stared. He was too late; Cassandra had been infected by the others. “I don’t need to see—”

 “Damian!” Before he could finish his sentence, Jon floated down beside him. Dressed in bright blue pjs his mother had to have bought for him, Jon landed on his right. “What’re you doing up here alone?”

 “Alone?” Damian looked at his left once more. Empty. Cassandra was gone. Even if her brain had rotted, her skills remained, and he didn’t know whether to be impressed or irritated at himself. Turning back to Jon, he shrugged. “Reflecting.”

 “Reflecting on what?” Jon raised a brow before asking. “Wait, is this one of those bat-broods Dad was talking about? How you guys all go to a corner at some point or another and just sulk?”

 Speechless, Damian gaped, his jaw hanging loose. Of all the things he expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. That wasn’t even on his least likely list.

 “I mean, I can’t picture Steph sulking, but maybe she wasn’t Robin long enough to get the broods.” Jon sat down next to him, bumping shoulders. “Or maybe you took all of them?”

 “I’m not sulking,” Damian growled, resisting the urge to hurl Jon off the roof. Not that it would do any good, he’d just fly back and be twice as mocking about it. What was it with the Kents and their presumptions?

 “Then what?” Jon’s eyes lit up and he hit his fist on his empty palm, as though he’d solved a case. “Stargazing?”

 It was as good an explanation as any. Better, actually, than his own, considering he had none. “Sure.”

 “Prepare to be amazed!” Jon pointed up, a wide smile on his face. “A city boy like you, you haven’t seen half of these stars before.”

 “City boy?” Damian scoffed. “You’re not much better.”

 “I’ve been in the country plenty of times,” Jon retorted, his mood still bright. It was like sitting next to the sun. “Besides, I can fly. Dad’s takes me up all the time to see the stars.”

 A very frivolous waste of power. No wonder Bruce worried about this family.

 “Anyways, see that star over there?” Jon leaned closer, wrapping an arm around Damian’s back to bring him closer. “So that’s part of the big dipper.”

 Of all the stars to start with, the big dipper? Really? Damian didn’t know if he should be insulted or not. It wasn’t like he was much of a ‘city boy’ himself; growing up in the desert, his mother made sure he could navigate just as easily at night as he did the day.

 He could say he had the best tutors, that he knew every constellation by heart.

 He could say that Jon was pointing at the wrong dipper, he meant the one slightly below it.

 Damian could say any or all of those things, but for once in his life he kept quiet. Jon was smiling and he didn’t always have to prove he was the smartest person in the room.

 -x-

 “So, any bets?” Steph asked, shielding her eyes as she leaned back and squinted at the sky. Despite the intense July heat, she stood away from the shade. Above them, small specks in the bright sky, were Conner, Kara, and Jon. They raced through the air, sometimes coming low enough to hear their laughter, other times they were barely visible.

 “On what?” Tim asked. Like her, he was staring up at the sky. Unlike her, he was smart enough to stay next to the barn and the meager relief it provided. Perhaps he did have a modicum of intelligence after all.

 Not that Damian would applaud him. Using a handful of pebbles, Damian started flicking them at distant targets, smirking when they hit with a satisfying thwink. Perhaps Jon could hide his training dummies and Tim could hide his weapons, but they couldn’t force him to be idle the entire time he was here. Glancing at Cassandra, who was sitting nonchalantly on the ground next to him, a pleased smile on her face, Damian was perplexed. How could she handle this?

 “The next Super. Like, it’s obvious that Cass is the next Batman, but I dunno about them.” Ignoring Damian’s glare, she finally strolled into the shade. She leaned against the barn door and crossed her arms. “It’s between Conner and Jon.”

 “So Kara’s not interested?” Tim stroked his chin thoughtfully. After humming for a few minutes, he turned to Cassandra and asked, “Who’d you rather work with?”

 Unable to handle the indignancy anymore, Damian barked, “I’m the next Batman.”

 “Sure.” Stephanie rested a hand on her hip, giving him a pitying look. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

 “Go easy on him, it’s not easy to find out that he’ll be Robin forever.” Tim shook his head sadly. “All of that time, all of mommy’s promises that’d he’d get the job, it must be crushing.”

 “What?” he squawked.

 “He couldn’t even accept that Cass is Bruce’s favourite.” Coming over, Stephanie squeezed his shoulder. “And then there’s Dick—you’re maybe third? Maybe?”

 Picking a pebble out of his hand, Cassandra flicked it at the bushes. A bird shot out of it, startled. “Either of them…are fine,” she answered slowly. “Conner, then Jon?”

 Et tu, Brutus? Damian turned to Cassandra as she tossed yet another pebble with pinpoint accuracy. He should have realized earlier that they were all after his job, that there was no one here he could trust.

 “Ah, Conner takes it on for a little before giving it to Jon.” Stephanie nodded sagely. “True, that’s also in the running.” Her hair fell in front of her as a flyby occurred and she quickly pushed back her golden locks. “You know Jon actually hangs out with them?” Wrapping an arm around Damian’s shoulder, she bemoaned, “Why can’t our baby be so friendly?”

 “It would be…weird,” Cassandra pointed out, getting up now. She patted him on the back. “He is…different.”

 “Who is?” Kara landed on the ground, her hair looking like a wild nest. It seemed being Kryptonian didn’t protect them entirely from physics.

 “Damian, but you already knew that.” Stephanie retreated before he could attack her. “What’s up?”

 Kara glared at him before smiling at Stephanie. “A race! We’ll each pick one of you up and see who can fly the fastest. So, Steph or Cass?”

 “Cass!” Stephanie volunteered, leaning against Cassandra. “I’ve had plenty of flights. It’s a sacrifice, but someone has to do it.”

 “Sacrifice.” Tim rolled his eyes. “You just don’t want to mess your hair.”

 “Both things can be true.” She stuck her tongue out.

 By now, Jon and Conner had landed as well, standing next to Damian and Tim respectively. Conner smirked cockily. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

 “Yeah, we did this every day in the Teen Titans.” Tim high-fived Conner. “It’ll be too easy.”

 “Oh, just you wait and see!” Kara stood next to Cassandra, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve practiced.”

 “We’ll win!” Jon declared, grabbing Damian’s hand. Leaning closer, he whispered, “And no matter what, you’re my Batman.”

 “Huh?” Damian tried to look at Jon but before he could, he was already in the air and the race had started.

 On that day, Damian discovered that his stomach was both stronger and weaker than he’d expected.  

 -x-

 At nine pm, it was dark. Dark in a different way than Gotham got—for all the narrow alleys and forgotten warehouses, it was never truly devoid of light. Whether it was a flickering streetlamp or the semi-blocked lights of an office, there was light somewhere.

 Here, though, in the middle of nowhere, it was pitch dark. Damian could just make out Jon’s figure sitting next to him. The others, still sitting near the barbeque a short distance away, were impossible to see. The only thing visible were the stars above, as disgustingly bright as ever. Somehow, the sky never turned truly dark, a thing he had forgotten. It had been too long since he’d been in the desert, since he’d left the city behind.

 “I’m glad you came.” Even without looking, he knew Jon was smiling. He was always smiling, always moving, always something, like his face didn’t know how not express his emotions, like his body would combust if he stayed still.

 Damian didn’t bother to reply. Leaning forward on the dock edge, he skimmed his shoe against the still waters, watching the dark ripples warp the galaxy below. The only thing rivalling the stars were the fireflies drifting lazily nearby, yellow spots against the black.

 Unfazed (and Damian didn’t want to think about when that happened, about when Jon stopped getting angry at his silence and just accepted it), Jon rested his hand on Damian’s, threading their fingers together. It was an oddly intimate sensation. Damian didn’t mind it for some reason. “It’s a lot more fun when you’re around. I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”

 This time, Jon’s stare was expectant. Damian glanced at him, then back at the fireflies. “It wasn’t a complete waste,” he muttered, a half-truth. Perhaps there was something to vacations, but he loathed to admit it.

 Jon laughed, seeing through him. “Knew you’d like it here.”

 Feeling a little prickly, Damian glared at him. “Don’t act like you know—”

 “But I’m right, aren’t I?” When Damian didn’t say anything, Jon leaned closer. “I know you.”

 Before Damian could react, Jon’s lips were on his cheek, a warm pressure that was all too temporarily. His jaw fell slack. His skin burned. For once, his words failed him and he felt like a simpleton.

 “If I knew that’d shut you up, I’d have done it ages ago.” Jon smirked, looking playful.

 “Jon!” Pa Kent yelled. “We’re making smores.”

 “Save me some chocolate!”

 And just like that, Jon leaped to his feet, dashing away, and Damian still didn’t know what to say.

 -x-

 The roof was empty when he sat on it. Cassandra wasn’t there to give advice. Jon wasn’t there, laughing as he strung together stars like they were the pearls, creating tapestries on the sky above. There was just complete and utter silence, just as Damian preferred.

 While his skin had cooled down, his heart hadn’t, and he tried to meditate. Crossing his legs, he emptied his mind. Jon’s lips had been soft. He emptied his mind. His hand was rough. He emptied his mind. Jon—

 And maybe he had been wrong before; it was too late for himself. He’d been infected by all these damnable people around him, to the point he had actually considered asking Tim Drake of all people for advice. Friendship, family, love—

 It was too late. He had all of them and as loathe as he was to let them in, he was even worse about letting them go.

 -x-

 “So.” The confident Jon of yesterday was gone, leaving a more nervous boy in its wake. He was constantly fidgeting, his eyes darting all over like he didn’t know where to look. Judging by the bags under his eyes, he probably hadn’t slept.

 Good. He deserved a little suffering for leaving like that, for forcing Damian to think about his feelings. “So?” he drawled out, relishing in the little flinch Jon gave.

 They were standing in front of the Kent’s house, in the cool morning air. For the first time in two weeks, the sun wasn’t beating down on him and Damian couldn’t wait to return to the air conditioning of the Wayne manor. Already, the others were packing up the car, leaving only him and Jon to say their goodbyes.

 Or, well, whatever it was that Jon was trying to say. Damian tapped his foot on the ground, raising a brow when Jon didn’t say anything.

 “See you later?” Jon managed weakly.

 Sighing, Damian tossed him a bone. “Even a stopped clock is right twice. This vacation wasn’t terrible, I’m not adverse to doing it again. However, we are making this up with double the amount of work when we get back.”

 Jon blinked. “You still want to be partners?”

 Damian nodded. “Yes, I thought you had superhearing?”

 “And the other thing?” Jon asked, stepping closer.

 It took all of Damian’s willpower to not step back, not even when Jon was close enough to touch, to kiss. Feeling a familiar flush on the back of his neck, he coughed and looked away. “That…that was fine too.”

 “Really?” Jon’s voice was filled with an earnest hope and Damian’s stomach flip-flopped.

 “Don’t make me repeat it,” Damian growled, feeling uncharacteristically flustered.

 “Damian!” That was the only warning he got before Jon’s arms were around him once more, his lips pressed against his own. Behind him, he heard a bag drop and of all the people to bear witness to this, it had to be the morons in his family.

 It was hard to pay attention to both them and Jon, to the pure joy that radiated off his—Damian didn’t know what to call Jon anymore. Friend didn’t feel appropriate. Whatever it was, he’d figure it out later, when they were alone and they didn’t have the peanut gallery around. Gingerly, he wrapped an arm around Jon, pulling him closer. When they finally parted to take a breath, he glared at Jon. “Did you have to do it in front of them?”

 “That’s your first response?” Jon grinned, leaning close to kiss him on the nose. Reluctantly letting go, Jon stepped back. “See you in a week.”

 “Like I’m letting you off the hook that easily,” Damian grumbled, pretty sure his entire face was red now. While he took after his mother, his brown skin could only hide so much, and unfortunately his carmates eyes were sharper than most.

 Ignoring the stares, he marched to the car and plunked himself into the front passenger seat. He was not going to deal with Stephanie’s teasing a second time around, not when she had more ammo. At least Drake would have to keep his eyes on the road.

 -x-

 The entire car ride back was filled with Tim and Stephanie singing, “Damian and Jon, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

 Damian had never been more tempted to kill.

[westgateoh]

A scene from a long fic I’m working on. Felt like sharing because Bruce and Jason. Encouragement is helpful if you like it. Thanks for reading (sorry about the spacing)

“What happened?” Batman growled, and the wind of the rooftop swirled his cape around him, like it was whipping him. He ignored it. “You’re favoring your right arm.”

Jason would deny it, but he was using the only arm that worked at the moment to hold a goon by his windpipe against the wall while Bruce zip tied the guy’s hands behind his back. From the whimper Jason heard, Bruce wasn’t taking any chances. “Dislocated shoulder in the fight. I’ll be fine.” He stepped back so that Bruce could shove the guy to his knees and tie his ankles. Jason would be fine, too. He turned to the wall, shoved his gun in its holster, and lined up his shoulder. He’d put his own shoulder back plenty of times. It hurt like a sonofabitch, but he’d done it. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and felt Bruce pull him back from the wall.

“Stop.”

Jason turned to look at him.

“It’s harder to do it yourself. Let me.”

Something in Bruce’s voice was softer than usual, more like a request than his usual demands.

It would be easier to have Bruce do it, so he nodded, and Bruce pulled him a little so that Jason’s back wasn’t against the wall.

He put one hand on Jason’s shoulder and then gripped his elbow. “Deep breath and hold it.”

Jason complied.

Bruce wrenched and Jason clenched his eyes through the pain and then it was done. Bruce still held Jason’s arm. “Better?” he asked.

Jason stared at the gloved hand on his arm, but he didn’t pull away. He just nodded.

“Good. Will you come back to the Cave and let Agent A do a scan to make sure everything’s stable in there?” Bruce was still holding his arm, and Jason couldn’t stop staring at his hand. “Hood?” Bruce says, his voice soft, so the guy on the ground couldn’t hear him. “Are you all right?”

Jason was years away, his vision filled with the memory of the first time he broke his arm on patrol with Bruce, when he was laying on the rooftop in the chill of October as Bruce stood over him, brushing his gloved hand through Jason’s hair and saying, “You’re going to be all right, Robin. It hurts now, but we’ll get you back to the Cave and fix your arm right up so it doesn’t hurt as badly. You’ll be all right.” And Jason believed him immediately, and let Bruce pick him up and carry him down the rickety fire escape to the Batmobile, where he laid him gently in the backseat and then put the car on autopilot so that he could hold Jason’s good hand the whole way home.

Dragged back to the present by the smell of asphalt and garbage from the alley below, he looks up at Bruce. “I’m fine,” he says, and pulls his arm away. “I have to go home.”

Bruce frowned. “Does your current home have a decent med kit?”

Jason brushed off his concern. “Yeah. Tim restocked it for me last week. It probably even has root beer lollipops,” and he didn’t say it to hurt, but Bruce flinched, clearly remembering the jar of root beer lollipops Alfred let Bruce keep in the med bay when they’d found out they were Jason’s favorite. Bruce would sneak them to Jason sometimes when he was sick, like they were carrying out international espionage or something by getting them past Alfred.

Jason blinked at Bruce’s reaction and shook his head. “You need anything else from me here?” he asked.

Bruce let go of Jason’s arm and stepped back. “No. Go home and rest.” He paused. “Oh, and add tonight to your casefile on the Marineli group. I’m certain it’s connected.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment before Bruce seemed to shake himself out of thought, and he took a step toward Jason, who couldn’t help his reaction of stepping back so now he was against the wall. He tried to lean and make it look intentional and casual, but Bruce took a step back quickly, like he knew he’d accidentally boxed Jason in.

“Come to dinner tomorrow?” he asked, and Jason closed his eyes, thankful that the lenses kept the action from Bruce. “Dick’s going to be there.”

“No, thanks,” he replied, and Bruce stiffened. “I’ll check in before patrol if you want, since so many things seem to be overlapping right now.” He paused and looked at Batman standing in front of him – they only had a few minutes before the police arrived at the scene and Bruce really still didn’t want the GCPD to know how closely he was working with the Red Hood, Jason understood that. He looked, though, and saw Bruce reaching out, trying to get Jason home, trying to help him.

It had been long enough since their last big fight, long enough for Jason to see how Bruce was trying to be there for him, trying to get Jason to come into the sphere of the Bats enough for him to want to stay, for them to be a family again. Jason saw that. He even wanted it sometimes, but thinking about things like family made Jason’s skin itch, made his chest tight, and made his nerves sing. Looking at Bruce practically vibrating out of the Bat suit, though, was enough to make Jason stop and think. “You want to get some pancakes?” he asked, rolling his bad shoulder slowly, keeping it loose.

“What?”

“Pancakes. There’s a new diner just outside the Narrows. I’ve been wanting to try it. I could use your ear for the Singali case, too, if you want to talk for a bit.” He could hardly believe his own words, but he found himself holding his breath waiting for Bruce to answer.

Bruce finally nodded. “Give me an hour. I’ll meet you there,” he said, and his voice dropped the Batman growl entirely, and he turned and disappeared over the edge of the roof.

Jason stood still for a minute and finally shook his head. “What the fuck did I just do?” he muttered to himself, and then he made himself move. He needed to change clothes.

Jason ordered a cup of coffee and an order of French toast before Bruce finally got there, sliding into the booth and pulling his faded black Gotham Knights baseball hat a little lower over his eyes. He was wearing a grey hoodie, dark jeans jacket, and torn jeans with green Converse and Jason had to admire his ability to move entirely unlike Bruce Wayne or Batman.

“I ordered already, sorry. I was really hungry,” Jason said, shoving a bite of French toast into his mouth. Their waitress, a tall redhead, came to the table and poured a refill for Jason and a cup for Bruce, who ordered some scrambled eggs and hash browns and a glass of orange juice. Jason asked her to bring him some eggs and bacon, and Bruce hid a smile behind his coffee cup.

Jason raised an eyebrow after she left. “Diner orange juice, B? Pretty big risk.”

Bruce shrugged. “Feeling a little run down. Could use all the vitamin C I can get.”

Jason blinked and swallowed a weird feeling of panic that surged at the thought of Bruce getting sick. The first time Bruce had caught the flu when Jason was a kid he’d been convinced Bruce was going to die and leave him the way his mom had, and he pestered Alfred to take Bruce to the hospital for three days straight and had fought nightmares for a month after it happened.

Bruce was fixing Jason with such an odd look right now that Jason wondered if he remembered that, too. “I’m okay,” he said.

Jason just nodded.

The waitress brought the rest of the food and they ate in comfortable silence for a bit.

“Damian made some hummous at my place last week that was better than any restaurant I’ve had here in the states,” Jason finally said. “Has he been cooking with Alfred?”

Bruce nodded and swallowed his food. “Yes. They’re on a mission to recreate every food Damian can remember from Egypt. The list on the fridge is pretty long.” He paused and added, “Some are more successful than others. Tim added some dishes from Russia that he apparently tried on a trip with his parents as a boy and now it’s a significant mission. Dick wanted to add some Romani dishes, but Damian says they have to master his own list first.”

Jason grinned. “Throw on Pork-n-Beans from Park Row for me when you get a chance. That’s some fancy cooking.”

Bruce snorted and Jason’s own smile widened. They chatted about food for a few minutes, and that led them to Damian’s tastes, which led them to Damian’s pets. Jason’s been wanting to ask about this for a while.

“A cow, B? Really?”

Bruce just chuckled. “God help me, I didn’t mean to let him end up with a menagerie, but it’s a better outlet for him than anger, which usually ends with he and Tim breaking something in an honest-to-goodness brawl.”

“They still fight?”

“Not as much as they used to, but Tim is nothing if not expert at button pushing, intentional or no.” He finished his toast and added, “I think the last time they fought the old Tiffany lamp in the den was the victim.”

Jason’s eyes widened. “And Al let them both live?”

“Their chore list increased a great deal for next month.”

It took Jason a minute to catch up, but when he did, “Tim doesn’t even live there full-time anymore. He still has chores?”

“He does after they broke that lamp,” Bruce said with a shrug.

Jason laughed, and Bruce’s chin snapped up at the sound, like he didn’t see that coming. He grinned, too, after a moment.

When the waitress brought them their bill and they finally wandered out of the diner, Jason realized that they never did talk about their case.

[dylan-hague]

Chapter 23

Amusement Mile, Gotham City. January 20th, 2018. 10:39 PM.

Red X and Batman landed lightly on the roof of the factory, quickly dropping into a crouch to avoid detection by the snipers positioned nearby. Upon a quick scan of the area, the pair determined that the ideal point of entry was, unfortunately, a ventilation shaft right next to one of the gunners. Damian quietly stepped across the way to meet up with his father to discuss their plan of entry.

“There’s really no reason for this to be too difficult,” X whispered, pulling a small shuriken from his belt. “A well-placed tranq star should suffice…”

“Hold on, X,” Batman replied, his voice low. “If we take one with a projectile, we run the risk of alerting the other to our position…” he bent back around the small corner around which the two cloaked figures hid. “What if we both made for one, quietly, and tried to take them before they noticed us?”

X shook his head, his eyes squinting through his mask. “Look, watch them for a minute…” The two caped figures peered around their little wall as they observed the snipers before them. They looked particularly nervous… probably their first day on the job. Unfortunately, they seemed to have formed a habit of look over at one another every so often.

“If we try to move on one of them, the other one will see us coming.” Red X squatted there behind the wall, trying to come up with some semblance of a plan. “Think you can jam their weapons?”

“Not likely,” the older superhero pointed over at one of the snipers – specifically, the sniper’s weapon. “Those rifles are completely analog. Aside from the laser-sight, no apparatus with any sort of computer or electronic systems. Trying to use the jammer here would be a waste.”

“Alright you two, time’s up,” a voice chimed in from within Bruce and Damian’s minds, and Damian’s shadow quickly detached itself from his body, slithering up right between the two gunmen. Slowly, a cloaked figure rose from the shadow, and as the two snipers caught sight of her, she threw her hands up, clenching them into fists as they did so. The two thugs were swallowed up by their own shadows, and vanished before they could get off a single shot, their rifles clattering to the rooftop. Raven turned back to the two men behind her with a half-smile.

“Don’t worry, they’re safe and sound in a holding cell at the Police Station. They’re gonna be just fine,” the mage girl said aloud, strolling over to the ventilation shaft.

“Jim, can you confirm?” Batman spoke into his com-link.

“Jesus Christ, Batman! What was that!?” the Commissioner shouted in reply. “A couple of punks just got – got spat out of nowhere into one of our cells!!”

“Relax, Jim. Everything’s under control. Keep this channel open in case we need backup.” Bruce’s voice was hushed as he and Damian approached their point of entry. Raven quickly melded back into the shadows and slid across the metallic surface of the shaft into the building.

“I know you don’t much care for magic, but…” Red X couldn’t help but grin. “Even you have to admit that was impressive.”

“It presents a less violent solution to a problem I’ve been having since day one, and it’s much less likely to be detected…” Bruce allowed himself a quick smirk as he followed Damian into the metal shaft. “I think she’ll fit in just fine here.”

“Topdown to Inquisitor, come in,” Jon’s voice crackled over the communicator in Batman’s cowl. “Inquisitor, do you read me?”

“I read you, Topdown…” Bruce whispered as he and Damian quietly slid down into the building. “Are you and Mjolnir in position?”

“Affirmative,” the hybrid’s voice replied. “Let us know when you’re ready to–”

“Ah, ah, ahhhh!” Bruce grimaced as he heard the Joker’s familiar voice sound over the intercom. “No fair bringing the kiddies along, Batboy! Maybe you should tell little, uhh, ‘Topdown’ to head on home… I’m sure Kansas is lovely this time of year!” Bruce cursed under his breath as the clown’s unholy cackling echoed throughout the building.

“Topdown, stay in position. Switch off this frequency, we don’t need him listening in,” Bruce ordered into the intercom. “And don’t panic.”

“… Did he just say Kansas?” Superboy stuttered, clearly panicking.

“Yes, I did!” Joker chirped over the intercom again.

“Shut your mouth, you pasty freak,” Damian growled into his com, knowing Joker could hear him.

“Why don’t you come on down and make me…” The psychotic teased. “… Missster aaal Ghuuuuuuuul?”

Damian clenched his teeth as he searched for a vent, ignoring the madman’s howling laughter.

“Focus, son…” Bruce whispered. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“Oh, somebody’ll get to somebody, alright…” Red X hissed through clenched teeth.

“Damian, this is the exact opposite of 'not letting him get to you’,” Raven commented in the back of Damian’s mind. “Take a deep breath.”

Damian did as she suggested, finding his center before finding an air vent nearby. “Thanks, Raven.”

“Love you too, D.”

Damian let himself smirk a little bit. He couldn’t practically hear her smiling in his head.

“Work first, flirt later,” Bruce muttered. “We have a job to do, you two.”

“Yes, Father,” the boy turned back to his father with a grin as he placed his foot on the vent, quickly firing into it with his leg. The vent bent outward with ease, quickly hanging from one screw as it creaked quietly back and forth. The two quickly dropped down into the empty room below, where Raven waited for them, crouched beside the doorway.

“Where exactly are we in the building?” Damian whispered. Bruce pulled up the navigational system on his gauntlet, which marked their location in the factory with a small white dot.

“Looks like we’re just outside the main assembly room,” the pointy-eared figure replied. “It’s bound to be swarming with guards, so going around it is our best bet. We could try climbing back into the ventilation shaft and making our way around, but…”

“I doubt that would play out very well…” Red X added. “Joker has probably already figured out that’s how we got in. Any word on the others’ status?”

“They’re doing fine,” Batman assured as he checked in on everyone’s location throughout the city. “Starfire, Ivy and Blue Beetle have made contact with the Mayor, and he’s under their watch now. Beast Boy, Catwoman and Terra have already located and disarmed several bombs planted in the courthouse, museum and bank, and are searching the city for any others as we speak. And Hood is…”

Damian’s head tilted slightly as his father trailed off. “What? Where is he?”

“… he’s on his way to Blüdhaven…” Bruce whispered, a horrible realization slowly dawning on him. “… Oh dear God…”

“What’s wrong?” Raven asked worriedly. “Why’s he going to Blüdhaven?”

“Joker knows who we all are…” Damian answered, mortified as it clicked in his head as well. “That includes Grayson and Barbara… Which means he probably knows about the baby.”

The half-demon let out a short gasp. “There’s… there’s no way he would try to…” her voice began to shake ever so slightly as she spoke. “I’ve heard stories, but no one would…”

Bruce growled in the back of his throats as he switched off the map. “It wouldn’t be the first time…” He turned his attention back to Raven. “Can you find us a path to Joker? One that keeps us off the security cameras?”

“Already have one,” Raven replied, her brow furrowed with determination. “Follow me.”

Jason practically flew down the road as he raced towards Blüdhaven, pushing his bike to its absolute limit. He knew that, of all the Robins Bruce had brought up, Joker hated Dick the most, because he’s never been able to make anything stick with him. No matter what Joker did to him, Dick always bounced right back. Unfortunately, Joker also knew who every single one of the Robins and Batgirls were, and that meant he probably knew about Dick and Barbara getting engaged and moving into their ranch… and somehow, somehow, he probably knew about Tommy. That would be his endgame; that’s how Joker planned to break Dick once and for all. He was going to take Dick’s child. Despite their differences, Jason loved Dick… there’s no way he was about to let that happen. Forget about Bruce’s orders; Kane could take care of herself. It’s not like she was helpless anyways, she was Batwoman. But Dick was his brother. Tommy was his nephew. He was going to keep them safe, whatever it took.

“Jason,” Bruce’s voice startled him as it popped over the comlink in his helmet. “Jason, do you read me?”

“Load and clear, old man,” Jason shouted over the roar of his engine. “Look, I know you said look out for Kate, but listen…”

“I know, Jason,” Bruce stopped him. “Please hurry… you’ve got to get to them before it’s too late. Please.”

“Don’t worry, Bruce,” Jason replied as he zoomed past the city limits. “I’ll take care of 'em. Promise.”

Raven slid underneath the door into the Main Security Office and into the corner of the room, just as Bruce kicked the door off of its hinges. He and Damian moved into the room slowly, their eyes bearing down on the back of the clown’s head as he stood, arms crossed, facing the wall of screens before him.

“Turn around slowly, Joker,” Batman growled, his anger radiating off of him in waves. “Look at me.”

Joker turned and looked over his shoulder, his ghoulish grin stretching all the way across his face as he turned on his heel. Raven shuddered as she saw the monster’s emerald eyes flash just barely as he whirled around to face Batman and Red X, who both stood tall, fists clenched, just inside the room.

“Braaavo, old Batboy, braaaavo!” Joker hissed through his sickening smile, clapping sarcastically as he began pacing before them. “Good on you for staying off the ol’ TVs here the whole way up. I wouldn’t expect any less from you after all these years we’ve been doin’ this old dance.”

“Can it, psychopath,” Damian barked, clearly agitated. “We’re not here to listen to you talk. Where’s the detonator?”

“Oh calm down, Pipsqueak!” the clown waved off Damian’s demands nonchalantly as he strode back across the room again. “We’ll get to that in a minute. First we talk, like we always do. Besides…” he stopped in the center of the room, casting his gaze over to the corner where Raven hid. “We wouldn’t want to lose our composure in front of your girlfriend, eh?”

Damian grit his teeth as the green-haired fiend cackled before them. Raven slowly glided across the floor to Damian’s side before emerging from her shadow.

“Joker, this doesn’t have to end in violence,” the mage girl urged. “Just surrender now, and we won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Joker cocked an eyebrow as he locked eyes with Raven. “Oh come now, little witchy-poo,” he teased, his lips pursing as he leaned forward. “You think I’m scared of old Batsy here putting me in a hospital bed again? Please, he’s been doing that since before you were born!”

Raven took a step back, her fingers gently wrapping around Damian’s arm. Joker… he couldn’t be real. Even without trying to look into his mind, Raven could feel an unspeakable hate toiling beneath his surface. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt from a mortal before… and rarely even among demons.

“But let’s get to the chase, shall we? You’re not just here to put me away again,” the ghoul carried on. “Noooo, you’re here because someone pulled a Houdini! Vamoosed! Disappeared without a single trace, and it just so happened to coincide with my coming back, so you put two and two together to figure out that she came to me first…”

The clown snapped his fingers, and all the screens behind him changed to show one image. The three cloaked figures froze, overcome with shock.

“Well here she is, ol’ boy!” the clown exclaimed, throwing his hands up like some kind of showman. “The sweet little Killer Queen herself, Miss Harley Quinn!!”

On the other end of the video feed, Harley was down on her knees. She was completely naked, save for an apron covering her front, and a handkerchief wrapped tightly around her mouth. From her neck down, Harley’s body was covered in fresh cuts, which spelled out the word “HA” over and over in deep red all over her flesh. Raven could see the tears running down her cheeks, and the fear in her eyes. Her hands stayed behind her back, implying that she’d been tied up. Behind her, Batman could just make out the faintest glow of a timer, counting down from five minutes.

“Oopsie!” Joker howled through his laughter. “Looks like poor little Harley got herself into a bit of a pickle! Probably waiting on somebody to go help her get cleaned up right now, I’ll bet! Somebody better go check on her, or she might just explode with anticipation!” The clown practically screamed with laughter, until he found himself slammed into the wall to his felt. The monitors dimmed as the whole room went dark, and both Damian and Bruce turned to see Raven moving in towards the Joker. She had nearly doubled in size, and her skin had turned a dark red, her eyes split into four glowing with a menacing red light. Several small horns began to poke up from underneath her cloak, and a mass of black tendrils squirmed out from the cloak’s hem.

“Here me now, impudent vermin,” the half-demon spoke, her voice distorted as it echoed through the mind of everyone in the room. “Your actions are a shame to your entire race, and I will not allow this to continue.”

“Ohhhh, my!” Joker squealed as he stared intently back at the devil-girl. “Looks like someone has a bit of a dark side, don’t they!?” He cackled madly before a tendril wrapped itself titghtly around his throat.

“I am Raven, last born of the Dark Lord Trigon the Terrible and rightful heir to his Throne in the innermost Circle of Hell,” Raven bellowed, raising a second tendril to Joker’s face, slowly inching it towards his open mouth. “And by his blood, I now claim your soul.”

Just as the shadowy appendage was about to slither down the clown’s throat, Damian threw himself onto Raven’s back. “Raven!! Listen to me! You have to snap out of it, right now! This isn’t you!” He jerked the hood off of the girl’s head, and turned her head towards him, looking into her eyes. “You’re not your father, Raven! Please, you have to come back to us — come back to me! Please!!”

Everything froze for a moment. Even the air around them seemed to halt. Suddenly, Raven’s second set of eyes faded away, and the red glow dissipated, leaving her true eyes staring back at Damian. Her tendrils disappeared, her horns retracted back into her skin, and she slowly reduced to her normal size, her skin now back to its pale grey tone. Her knees shaking, Raven fell into Damian’s arms, and she sobbed weakly as Joker dropped to the ground.

“I… Damian, I’m so sorry…” the girl’s words were shaky and quiet as she cried. “I didn’t… I didn’t know I could still… I don’t know what came over me, I just–”

Damian gently shushed his Raven as he closed his eyes, holding her trembling body to him tightly as he ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s alright now, baby… you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Awwwwww…” the clown cooed behind the two Titans. “That is so sweet. Look at how much they love each other…”

Bruce rocketed forward, his palm crashing into Joker’s nose with unparalleled force, knocking his head back into the wall. As the criminal’s cranium bounced back, a cut-off yelp sounded as Batman caught Joker’s throat in his grip, threatening to crush the clown’s windpipe.

“I’m done playing games with you, Joker.” Batman’s voice was shaking with rage as he spat the words into Joker’s face. “Call off the bombs and let Quinn go. NOW.”

Joker stared back at Bruce, unable to draw breath. Then, in a blink, a slim black device with a red button on the end slipped out of Joker’s sleeve into his hand. The clown flipped the top back, revealing a blue button concealed underneath. He pressed it, and and the countdown behind Quinn went black as the bomb deactivated. Slowly, a grin spread across Joker’s face. Batman loosened his grip around the freak’s throat, allowing him to draw breath.

“So…” the Joker hissed after a few deep breaths. “Ya gonna finally finish this, Brucie? Or can I pencil you win for another party in a few months? Y'know… after little Tommy’s funeral.”

Bruce threw the clown to the ground, standing over him menacingly. Damian picked Raven up off her feet, and carried her out of the room as Batman came down on the ghoul, the sound of cracking bones reverberating a short way down the halls outside as the Titans started on their way out.

“Damian…” Raven groaned, clinging weakly to the boy’s chest. “Is he about to…”

“Sometimes, I wish he would…” Damian sighed before gently pressing his lips to her forehead. “But no. That’s rule number one… We never kill.”

Caverns beneath the Batcave. January 20th, 2018. 11:33 PM.

Harley kept her head down, refusing to look back up at the camera. She had let herself look when she heard it turn on and point at her, but then she realized who was looking back. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Her face was wet with tears, her hands had long since gone numb, and a pool of blood was beginning to form around her legs. She was terrified… but she wasn’t going to let him see it.

She was so focused on keeping her head down, she couldn’t help but jump when she heard something drop to the cavern floor not too far in front of her. Harley would have cursed had it not been for the gag in her mouth. She just kept hoping it wasn’t that snake-lady again…

It definitely wasn’t. As a pair of green boots stepped into the light, Harley lifted her head to see Robin disable the camera in front of her.

“Wow…” Carrie muttered under her breath as she looked down at Quinn’s body. “That’s messed up.” Carrie pulled out Batarang and quickly made her way behind Quinn, cutting her hands free. Harley pulled her arms out in front of her, her fingers barely twitching as they slowly returned to their normal color. As the Girl Wonder came back around to untie the handkerchief from around Quinn’s face, she tapped the R on her chest and spoke.

“Hey, Alfred…” Carrie spoke clearly as her fingers busied themselves with the knot on the back of Harley’s head. “Get the infirmary ready. Quinn’s in pretty bad shape.”

“Right away, Miss Kelly! Please hurry!” An old man’s voice on the other end implored.

Robin eventually pulled the handkerchief free, gently rubbing Quinn’s cheeks and removing the gag from her mouth. “Alright, let’s get you back to the Batcave,” Carrie said quietly as she looked into Quinn’s eyes reassuringly. “Do you think you can walk?”

“Sure thing, sweetie…” Harley pulled herself shakily to her feet. “Hurts pretty bad, but I’ll manage.”

For the next several minutes, the two climbed aimlessly upwards through the caverns. Occasionally, Carrie would look down at a little navigator in her gauntlet. Harley figured it was, in part, to reassure her that the kid knew where they were going. But part of her also suspected that the poor kid actually was lost.

Eventually the two of them came to a large, open chamber. When Quinn looked up, she was shocked to see some kind of metal container held up underneath what looked like a bridge at the top. Carrie put her arm around the injured woman, and fired her grapple gun upwards. After a moment, the two of them shot upwards, and after a moment, they emerged into what looked like some kind of laboratory. Quinn stumbled about on the cold metal floor, and Robin barely caught her as she fell.

“Easy, Quinn…” Carrie hoisted Harley up onto her back and carried her across the chamber. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Don’t try to move, just let Alfred do his thing…” Robin walked through a white curtain into the small infirmary, and gently set the rogue down on a medical bed. Harley looked up to see Robin looking down at her, and soon she was joined by a kind-looking old man with what looked like an oxygen mask in his hand.

“W… what is that…?” Harley mumbled.

“Anesthesia, Dr. Quinzel,” the old man replied calmly. “Don’t worry, ma'am. I’ve been putting people back together after confrontations with the likes of the Joker for almost two decades now. You’re in excellent hands.”

Quinn nodded slowly as he looked down at her. “Listen…” she started as the old man prepared the anesthetic. “Tell Batman… tell him I wanna be good… tell him I wanna be a good guy from now on… okay?”

“I’ll make sure he gets your message,” the old man promised as he brought the mask up to Quinn’s face. “For right now, let’s just focus on keeping you breathing…”

Grayson Ranch, Blüdhaven. January 20th, 2018. 11:53 PM.

Dick shuffled out of the bathroom, tossing his towel into the laundry bin by the door as he looked at his fiancée lying on the bed. She looked up from her tablet and smiled back at him as he crawled under the covers beside her, carefully putting his arms around her. He heard that something was going on in Gotham tonight, and truthfully, part of him felt like he should suit up and rush off to Bruce’s aid… but not tonight. This was more important. This beautiful woman beside him, and the little man growing inside her, were the only things he needed to worry about right now.

“Sorry I kept you waitin’, hun,” Dick sighed as he planted a kiss on Barbara’s cheek. “Hair stopped up the shower drain again, had to take care of it.”

“Mmhmm…” Barbara blushed slightly as her fiancé settled in beside her. “All your hair, no doubt?”

“You got me,” Dick said, gently placing kisses all down Barbara’s shoulder. “I bet Tommy’s gonna shed juuust like me when he gets older.”

Barbara laughed, running a hand through Dick’s hair. “Let’s hope not!” She whispered. “I swear, if somebody walked in and saw all that, they’d probably ask where we kept our–”

Barbara stopped short as they both heard the sound of tires screeching outside.

“Stay here,” Dick said quickly before bolting up and running out to the front door. He opened the door just in time for Red Hood to barrel through the doorway.

“Jason!?” Dick threw his arms up in annoyance. “What are you doing here, man? It’s the middle of the night!”

“Dick, listen to me.” Jason pulled off his helmet, and Dick paused as he saw the worry in his brother’s eyes. “You and Barbara need to get out of the house. Right now.”

Nightwing nodded, understanding the urgency in Todd’s voice. He rushed back to the bedroom, scooped Barbara up off the bed, and ran back into the hall, nearly bowling Jason over as the younger Robin headed into the bedroom after them.

“Dick, what’s happening!?” Barbara asked. “Why is Jason here? Where are we going??”

“Out,” Dick grunted as he leapt through the open front door, racking out into the yard. Shortly after, Jason came back out through the door, with something in his hands. Barbara just barely made out what it was as Todd ran out into the backyard.

“What the…” Barbara’s eyes opened wide. “Was that a BOMB!?”

A grand flash lit up everything around the two, and the air seemed to crack within their ears. When the light dimmed, the couple looked up to see the air behind their home swallowed up by fire and smoke. Dick fell to his knees, horrified at what he just witnessed. That had almost been his Barbara… that had almost been his Tommy.

After a moment of watching the fire rage, the couple were relieved to see Jason Todd emerge from around the house.

“Dick!!” Jason shouted as he stumbled forward, covered in ashes. “Dick, is Barbara okay?! Is the baby okay!?”

“Jason!! Thank God!” Dick cried out, holding his fiancé close to him. “We’re alright, man! We’re all alright!”

Jason stopped for a moment a few feet in front of them, and looked down at the bump in Barbara’s belly. He grinned, then pressed a button on his belt. “The, uhh… the fire department should be here in a… in a few minutes…” Jason’s flopped over onto the ground, his face buried in the grass.

Dick looked back up at the embers flying up into the sky behind his home. “Man…” he sighed, turning his eyes back to Barbara’s as he let out an exasperated laugh. “I just ordered us a swingset for that yard, too.”

Grayson Ranch, Blüdhaven. January 25th, 2018. 6:34 AM.

Raven sat on the front porch swing of Dick’s humble little house, her knees held tightly to her chest underneath her blanket as she looked out at the Blüdhaven skyline in the haze of dusk. It had been her idea to take some time away from the rest of the team after what happened in Gotham, but it was Damian who suggested staying with Dick and Barbara for a few days. Raven was hesitant to impose herself on the couple, especially considering the huge hole in their backyard, but upon receiving word, they insisted she come by. They had such good hearts… still, Raven tried her best to keep from being a burden during her stay; she barely ate, her showers were cold, and it had been a battle to convince her to sleep in the guest bedroom as opposed to on the couch. And despite the older pair’s insistence that she just sit down and relax, Raven kept on her feet, doing what she could to help them around the house. It was the least she could do… after all, she nearly broke rule number one. She had to start making amends.

Raven’s train of thought came to a quick halt as he front door creaked quietly open, and Damian stepped out onto the porch. She smiled as they locked eyes; she knew how it probably looked to everyone else, but she was glad the boy had been so adamant about coming with her. If the name of the game truly was emotional healing, there was nobody better to help her in the process than him. He sat down beside her on the swing and put an arm around her as they gently swayed back and forth, and Raven curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder.

“How’re you feeling this morning?” Damian asked, his voice soft and gentle as Raven spread her blanket out over him.

“A little better,” she sighed as she felt his other hand gently light upon her knee. “It really helps to have you here, y'know. Thank you for coming with me.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Damian replied, kissing her head. “I just need to know you’ll be alright.”

“I will…” Raven nestled her head into the crook of Damian’s neck. “I hate thinking that the team had to go back home without us, though.”

“I’m sure Kori can take care of everything while we’re here…” Damian squeezed her against him. “Besides, I don’t know if I could stand not seeing your face for so long.”

Raven smiled as she lifted her head up and gently kissed Damian’s cheek. “Well, it shouldn’t be too long before we can get back to the Tower. Promise.”

“Hey, take your time,” the young Wayne assured her, running his hand up and down her side. “I could get used to a place like this. Maybe one day you and me could get a little house kinda like this one outside of–” Damian was cut off by a quick yelp as Raven hopped up into his lap, her fingers curling up around his shirt tightly.

“Careful!” Raven whispered, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of red. “Watch where you put your hands, I’m ticklish…”

Damian slowly raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk curling on his lips. “Oh reeeally…?” He cooed, his hand slowly rising up over the girl’s belly. Her eyes widened.

“Ohhhhh no…”

Before she could jump up and flee, Damian’s hands came down, his fingers digging gently into her skin. Raven’s body spasmed in response, and she slapped at Damian’s chest as she giggled.

“Damian! No, no, no no no! stAHahahp!” Raven pleaded through her laughter as she wriggled, the two of them slowly rising into the air surrounded by her violet glow. “We’re gonna wa-hehehey- wake up Dick and Bhaharbara!”

“Ahh, they’ll be fine!” Damian grinned as his fingers made their way all over Raven’s belly and sides. “You’re not gettin’ outta this!”

“Stop iiiit! Ahh, nohohooo!” Raven squealed as she curled up, trying vainly to protect her ticklish spots from the boy. The two swirled out over the porch as Damian continued his onslaught, until finally Raven grabbed his face and took his lips with hers, Damian’s hands freezing almost immediately. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her as they kissed, Raven’s legs slowly coming up around him as the air around them began to sparkle with magic. They continued to twirl through the air as they kept on, and Raven carefully lapped at Damian’s lips with her tongue. Damian’s mind raced as his face flushed; he hadn’t noticed it before, but her lips tasted like… like dewdrops on a spring morning.

“Ohhhhhhhh, Alfred is gonna love this…”

Raven and Damian pulled away from each other immediately, and both turned to see Dick Grayson, still in his pajamas, holding up his phone recording them. Losing her focus, Raven dropped her and Damian unceremoniously back to the porch with a loud THUD, the purple lights vanishing as she turned bright red.

“How long have you been there, Grayson!?” Damian cried, hugging himself bashfully.

“Uhh, I walked out here at about 'watch your hands, I’m ticklish’…” Nightwing winked at his little brother. “So yeah, I got the whole thing.”

“Delete that!!” Damian leapt up and charged at Grayson, who took off running across the yard.

“Too late! Already sent it to Alfred!” Dick called over his shoulder as he sprinted around the open field. “Now eeeverybody’s gonna know your secret: Son of Batman, Tickle Monster!”

“Get back here, Richard!”

Raven stood up and tried to shake the blush away from her cheeks, when she felt a hand light upon her shoulder. She turned to see Barbara Gordon smiling back at her, her other hand resting on her rounded-out abdomen.

“I take it you’re feeling a little better this morning?” The red-haired woman said with a smile.

Raven looked back down at her feet, her cheeks reddening yet again. “Y-yeah… you could say that…”

“Hey now, you two are welcome to stay as long as you need…” Barbara’s hand shifted onto Raven’s back. “And don’t be embarrassed by all that. Dick likes to poke fun,  it it’s normal for you two to start acting so affectionate towards each other. He and I went through the same thing.”

Raven smiled back at the Batgirl, and then looked down at her bump for a moment. “Umm… do… do you mind if I try something?” the mage-girl said timidly.

Barbara glanced down at her bump and smiled. “Sure, go ahead. Let me know what you hear.”

Raven slowly brought her hand up to the bump, reaching in with her magic and feeling the presence of the child growing inside. As she tuned into Tommy’s thoughts, Raven’s eyes widened… through his growing mind echoed the sounds of his mother and father speaking to him. Again and again, Dick and Barbara’s voices ran through the magical rift and into Raven’s head, telling Tommy how much they loved him. Raven’s eyes began to well up with tears as she pulled her hand away, wrapping her arms around Barbara’s neck.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Barbara asked as she watched Dick and Damian wrestling in the yard over Dick’s phone.

“It… it’s you, Barbara…” Raven whispered, a smile on her face as tears rolled down her cheeks. “You and Dick, he… he can hear you.”

[sarasapen]

White Roses and Scarlet Letters

WOW its been a while

A Jason Todd X Reader - The reader has her first interaction with Red Hood.

Part 2    Part 3 

Like most people, your life had a routine. You’d wake up early and go for a jog or do some yoga, depending on the weather. Then you’d spend a half hour on your phone, before you glanced at the clock and scrambled to get ready on time. You normally met Dick for breakfast before making your way to work.

Generally, your nights and weekends were more entertaining. You spent your nights donning a domino mask and Kevlar, punching assholes and stopping crime. Saturdays were sleepover nights with Damian, and Sundays were girls’ days.

So, considering you were standing on a rooftop with dead bodies littered around you when you were supposed to be watching a movie, you were not happy.

“Robin, come to my coordinates.”

“Tt.”

You smile slightly, rolling your eyes before you turned your head, catching sight of a man with a red hood and a symbol on his chest. You eyed the symbol skeptically. “I didn’t know the Bats had a new associate.”

The man remained silent, staring you down. His fingers twitched, and you noticed the gun holsters on his thighs. Two guns. Five dead bodies. He had seven bullets left. Okay, so maybe Bruce didn’t have a new associate.

“You gonna threaten me, or shoot me?” You say nonchalantly, gripping your escrima sticks. He moves quickly, and you’re darting to the side before you fully internalise he’s pulling the trigger.

“Alright then,” you huff dryly. “Guess you’re shooting me.” He raises the gun again, and you backflip away from the next bullets, lunging in his direction. Five. Four. Three. The next bullet snags your cape- two- and you swing your leg and attempt to knock him back. He dodges the kick and intercepts your path, moving to flip you. You kick back off the wall, using that as leverage to swing your body around his. You slam your escrima stick into the back of his head the same time his fist comes into contact with your jaw. You slip from his body, and he used the opportunity to kick at your ribs, sending you stumbling. He lunges at you, causing you to slam against the wall. One of his hands are around your throat, cutting off your air supply, and the other is holding his loaded gun, pressed against your temple. You know you can easily break his arm from the position, but for some reason, you can’t seem to move. Even through his voice modulator, the man’s anger is clear when he speaks, the words he growls out making your blood run cold.

“You let Jason Todd die.”

Your eyes widen and you’re going to swing out but instead of shooting you, he drops the gun and slams you back into the wall, your head hitting the wall with a loud CRACK-

-and then all you see is black.

--- 

The first thing you register is the pounding in your head.

You groggily try to sit up and wince at the bright lights. A hand on your shoulder pushes you back down- what? No, you need to get up, you need to-

“Lie down.” A voice commands and your body goes limp. The figure looks funny. He looks like a bat. And a man. Hey! Batman!

A whine emerges from your throat as your face scrunches up.

“I don’t wanna,” you protest weakly, trying to get up again. Your voice comes out scratchy, and your throat hurts when you talk. Suddenly there are two hands on both of your shoulders, keeping you on the bed.

“Do you want Alfred to scold?” The voice softens slightly. You shake your head, wincing when it hurts. Fingers dance along your hairline, soothing you.

“Rest. Once you’re better, the family’s going to have a chat.”

“Mkay,” you wrap your fingers around the wrist above your head, and you let sleep overtake you.

---

When you wake up, you’re alone. Well, for approximately 0.3 seconds before Alfred enters through the door. He’s carrying some meds and soup. He stands over you, making sure you finish every last drop even though your throat hurts like a bitch.

You manage to convince him you’re fine, with Barbara's help, before you spend a good hour or so on trying to conceal the bruises on your neck.

Barbara drives you and the girls to Metropolis to pick up Kara before heading to Central City. Despite all the fun the others seem to be having, you can’t take your mind off the previous night, or off Jason. You had no idea who that man was, or how he knew you were connected to Jason.

The weight of Jason’s death had weighed down on you somewhat heavier than the rest of your family. Bruce became reckless, and almost killed multiple times. Dick went off the grid for 6 whole months, and when he returned, he acted like nothing had happened. No one knows what he did or where he went. Barbara stopped coming to the cave. She still went out on patrol, but didn’t talk to you. Alfred assumed you needed some space, so he gave you that.

As your family pulled away, you started falling into the dark abyss of depression. You resorted to self harm as a way of coping. After Alfred inquiring on your long-sleeves, you moved the cuts to your thighs. You fell so deep into the hole that one day, you grabbed some sleeping pills and swallowed about 20. Alfred noticed the bottle was empty, and he rushed to your bedroom in time.

That was around the time Tim popped up as Robin.

Despite trying to help you, your family never quite understood you. Perhaps Bruce did, better than the two of thought, but Bruce was rarely one to talk about his emotions. When Jason died, you felt like you were to blame. You were quite literally the Batgirl to his Robin. You always patrolled together, always hung around, plotting the next prank to pull on Dick. Considering the two of you were practically inseparable, you felt so damn guilty that Jason went to the warehouse himself. You should’ve gone with him. Maybe if you had gone with him, he would have still been alive.

The guilt had been gnawing at you for five years. There wasn’t a single damn day that you didn’t miss Jason. The day he died, you had furiously scribbled a letter that was about 5 pages long, listing all the reasons you hated him. You were angry, and you wanted to make sure he knew you were angry. The next day, you wrote a tear stained letter saying you loved him, and you were sorry for everything.

You then wrote him letters, one for everyday that passed. This time, Day 1564, you reaccounted the Red Hood guy occurrence, before telling him about this cute waiter that Dick said had been flirting at you at the cafe. You asked him, rhetorically, if you should go for it. You signed off as usual, saying you loved and missed him.

You slipped the letter into a red envelope, making your way to the garden of Wayne Manor. You couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched, but then you remembered Bruce has tinkered with the security, so that was probably it.

You moved towards the rose bushes, and eased your way into the tiny opening in between the white rose bushes. You grabbed a long wooden box you had been stashing there, slipping the latest letter inside. You shut it, placing it back in the bush, before you straightened.

Shoving your hands into your jacket pockets, you made your way to the living room, where Bruce was trying to get everyone’s attention.

“I have some information pertaining the Red Hood. We all need to talk.”

----

Part 2   Part 3