#Mori Shej verse

[dickie-gayson]

Mori Shej; The Song

Dick was able to convince Jason to stay the night, and things go surprisingly well.

Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson

Warning: Violence

Pairing: None

Genre: Uh...happiness? Fun? Platonic family fluff? Brotherly bonding time? I usually write angst and have no clue what to tag non-angsty stuff lmao

Words: 6k+

Other Parts: one, two

Also: I take prompts/requests

Notes: SORRY FOR THE WAIT! Things will be going non-canon for here on out timeline-wise. Also, this is just a little happy chapter before everything goes to shit. 

It’s easier to read on FF or Ao3 tbh.

It hadn't taken much convincing on Dick's part to get Jason to stay the rest of the night. Truthfully, Jason didn't really want to leave. His anxiety and the lingering effects of the Pit, however, wanted him to hightail it out of there ASAP. It left the taste of ash on his tongue and his stomach twisting in knots. The desire for the comfort Dick offered warred with the completely rational (alright, maybe only slightly rational) fear that Bruce was going to kick the door in at any second. To be fair, Bruce had absolutely zero concept of privacy and personal boundaries when it came to others, particularly his 'children'.

That's how he found himself sprawled out on Dick's couch at five in the morning. He slept in fits and shifts. The nightmares chased away his rest and the unease at being in a place he wasn't absolutely sure was safe didn't help. By six, he was ready to leave. There was a stab of pain at the thought. He didn't want to leave, but he had to. He didn't want to be alone, but that was the only way he'd really feel safe, wasn't it? Damn, if that thought didn't hurt. That's who he is now, though. A broken and battered shell of a man, only comforted in his solitude but yearning for so much more. He battled back the thickness in his throat as he started to put on his boots. All he had to do was slip out the window, no need to wake Dick. For a moment, he wondered how Dick would react. Would he think this was all just a fever dream, a hallucination of what could be? Last night only proved that it wouldn't be the first time such a thing happened. Maybe he'd leave a note, just to reassure his brother.

As he searched for a blank sheet of paper and a pen in the mess that was Dick's table, Jaye started to wake up in the next room. He paused his rummaging once the sounds of her gurgling reached his ears. It only took a moment's contemplation to decide on going to get her. As much as staying made him nervous, he also wanted to take the chance to really see her. Plus, Dick needed this time to sleep. The guy looked like he was about to keel over from deprivation. So, he made his way to the room quietly. The site that greeted him was heartwarming, to say the least. Dick was passed out on his bed with Jaye sprawled across his chest. It seemed as if she wasn't awake just yet, only dreaming. He crinkled his nose at the sight of the puddle of drool forming on Dick's chest. Both of his hands cradled the baby as he slept soundly. She refused to let go of her father's shirt as she started to wriggle about. That seemed to wake Dick right up. He blinked dazedly while his hands automatically swept over Jaye, as if to make sure she was still there. Comforted by her presence, he sat up, still obviously tired, and prepared to start his morning routine.

Taking that as his cue, Jason stepped up and offered to watch her so Dick could get a little more sleep. Lord knows he needed it. It still completely baffled Jason how his brother was able to hold a full-time job as a cop, keep up his nighttime vigilante life, and take care of a baby. He would honestly start believing Dick was some sort of supernatural entity if it weren't for the fact that he could see the bags under the hero's eyes from across the room. If Dick didn't slow down, he was going to crash and that was going to be a monumental wreck that, surprisingly, Jason wasn't eager to witness. It took a bit of nagging to get his brother to actually hand her over and go back to sleep. Ordinarily, he'd have to get up for work in just a few short hours, but the unexpected arrival of his previously deceased brother was enough of an occasion to call off. That, in itself, was a miracle to Jason. Dick was only second behind Bruce in terms of being a workaholic. No doubt, the big man himself instilled those 'grind yourself into the dirt rather than take a break' work ethics into the vigilante. God, who let that man ever adopt a child to begin with?

Of course, Dick didn't fall back asleep before he absolutely overloaded Jason with every possible item the baby might ever need in the few hours they'd be separated, and then some. Jason almost physically wrestled the man back to his bed. Though, Dick's almost smothering paternal actions did bring a small grin to his lips once Dick closed his eyes. It was good to know the little girl had a father that really cared. Not that he doubted Dick's capacity to love or care for the child. He just knew how their particular lifestyle could be. Not to mention, Bruce wasn't exactly the best person to look to when it came to examples of paternal affection. Jason liked to assume Dick got it from Alfred. He wondered if they knew about the baby. She looked like a newborn, and given that she arrived in the week span Jason was gone, he wouldn't doubt that she was just over a month old. He frowned at the thought. If her mother was who he thought she was, then Jason was relatively certain Dick hadn't informed anyone of her existence, save the babysitter. He made a mental note to ask later. Then, he scrapped that note. It could be an emotional minefield and they were already dancing on thin ice to begin with.

Jason made his way back to the small living room and sat back down on the couch. All thoughts of escaping were gone as he held his niece carefully. She was so incredibly small in his arms. The scars crisscrossing his flesh made a stark, almost sickening contrast to her smooth, unmarred skin. There was an unfounded fear that he'd hurt her just by holding her. Jason knew he wouldn't, not on purpose. But that didn't stop the tendrils of doubt from curling their way through him. What if he lost control? What would he do? God, he didn't even want to imagine it.

He took a few deep breaths to steady himself and looked at Jaye. She blinked up at him with sleepy eyes. It was still so odd to him when he caught the baby's unmistakably Grayson eyes. No, not odd. Surreal was a better description. He was holding a mini-Dick Grayson. That's exactly how he'd describe the baby with absurdly blue eyes, deeply tanned skin, and curly black hair. The mother, and he's nearly positive it was Tarantula, deserved no connection to her. The date of Blockbusters murder, if he remembered correctly, corresponded eerily well with the time frame it'd take for the baby to be conceived. Once he was gone, he'd have to do a bit more research and pay her a very painful visit. If he was right, he would be hard pressed not to kill her. But, he wouldn't, only because Dick would blame himself. He knew Dick would blame himself and Jason was just not having that. He wouldn't be the one to add more trauma to the man's already fucked up psyche. However, he would absolutely drill it into her thick skull that she wouldn't ever come near Dick or Jaye again. Preferably with an actual drill. He'd have to see what he could get away with in the prison.

Jaye gurgled at him. Her pudgy little hands flailed a bit and hit him on his chest, breaking him from his reverie. It brought a smile to his lips. He cooed back at her, though he kept his voice low. Not only did he not want to disturb her father's sleep, but he really didn't want Dick hearing him doing baby talk. Jason wasn't embarrassed by his actions. It's just that he knew Dick would probably record it, send it to every hero in his contacts, which was every hero, and probably put it online to go viral. Okay, so he probably wouldn't go THAT far, given the general secrecy he seemed to have regarding the baby. Still, Dick was absurdly sentimental and would do probably start cooing at Jason himself or something equally dumb.

The small effort of her actions seemed to tire her out, which wasn't surprising, given her young age. She let out a quiet yawn and tried to squirm closer into his hold. He chuckled to himself and a foreign warmth filled his chest at the sight. This is his niece. Blood or not, it's his niece. And she didn't seem to hate him. It was an irrational fear of his, that she'd despise him even if she was too young to really form those sort of connections. But she wasn't screaming or fighting against his hold. If anything, she was fighting to get even closer to him. It was almost enough to make his heart skip a beat. He ran a finger over cheek softly and whispered to her.

"Mírate... "

If Jason was being perfectly honest, he was in total awe of the little girl. It still baffled him that she shared his name. Yeah, he went over it almost obsessively in his head. But could you blame him? This was the first real familial connection he could recall having. Willis, Catherine, Sheila, even Bruce...they all left aching, painful feelings in his chest. But Jaye? He felt a sort of pride, a happiness when he thought of her.

"Mi preciosa sobrinita."

If asked how long he watched the infant sleep, Jason wouldn't be able to even begin to guess. He never thought it'd be relaxing to watch a baby sleep, but it really was. It wasn't until the child started squirming and whining that he realized he also dozed off. Jason blinked away the grogginess as he made soft shushing noises to try and calm her. With a glance at the clock, he noticed he nodded off for about an hour. It frightened him to realize that. Any number of things could have happened as he slept. She could have easily fallen from his grip as he sat on the couch. Even the idea of dropping her had him tightening his hold on Jaye just a bit more.

Maybe he was overreacting a little, but he couldn't help it. So much had gone wrong in his life, well, lives, but this right here? This was good so far. It numbed some of the hurt that raged inside him; quieted the hissing of the Pit. It anchored him in the present and reminded him that maybe, just maybe, things didn't have to be so bad. So, he feared he'd lose it, lose her, and be left to fight the black of his own pain by himself. He was fucking terrified to be alone again, with the monster lurking beneath his skin. It almost felt inevitable. Fate had a way of being a total bitch to him, and he wasn't talking about Nabu.

He stood and made his way to the kitchen to make the little girl a bottle. It seemed about time for her to eat. Using only one hand to navigate the kitchen was a hassle, but it was one he could handle. Sure, he could put her in her bassinet or in the baby swing, but he didn't want to, as silly as that sounded. He liked holding her. Aside from just enjoying the feeling of being an uncle in general, she kept him tied to reality. Feeling her curled in his arms made it harder for the fog of the Pit to get a hold of him. The fear of losing control was very real. But the threat felt lesser with Jaye here to keep him grounded.

Jason hummed quietly as he made the bottle. His mind drifted to the man in the next room and a heavy feeling settled in his gut. It was only a matter of time before Dick wanted to talk about what happened to him. Jason wasn't sure how to address it. The wounds, while years old, still felt so fresh and raw. Then there was the matter of morality. There was no way in hell Dick would ever agree with his view on killing scumbags like Blockbuster and Tarantula. They'd be lucky to walk away from that conversation with minimal bruising. And then there was Bruce. Fuck, he didn't even know where to even begin with that. It all made him feel a bit sick. It felt like the sand in the hourglass was slipping by faster and faster. It was only a matter of time before this comfort he's found was torn away. He'd probably be the one ripping it to shreds because what else did he know to do but self-destruct? His heart clenched at the viperous imaginings racing through his head.

A heavy sigh left him as he tried to chase the invasive thoughts away. He gently held the bottle for Jaye to eat and just watched her for a moment. Then, he turned to look around the tiny kitchen in contemplation. One way he liked to keep his mind busy was keeping his hands busy. It just so happened that one of his favorite ways to do that was to cook. Jason had really gotten into the culinary arts when he lived at the manor with Alfred. He cut off that train of thought almost immediately. Alfie was one of the very few, if not the only person he truly missed. There was no green haze connected to the elderly man. But he hit his emotional quota for the week and really didn't want to get into any more breakdowns, if at all possible. Instead, he decided to busy himself with rifling through Dick's cabinets.

It was a bit awkward as he angled himself to keep the bottle propped with his chin to free a hand, but he managed. With each door opened and closed, Jason let out a disgruntled sound. How Dick was still alive with this sort of living, he wasn't entirely certain. Now, Jason wasn't a paragon of healthy eating himself. He loved chili dogs and greasy burgers just as much as the next guy and you'd have to fistfight him for the last six slices of pizza, but this was just appalling. Jason stared into the almost desolate fridge with a mixture of horror and sadness. It shouldn't be a surprise, given Dick's overall work schedule and all those takeout menus, but still. He let out a sigh as he shifted himself back to a comfortable posture. The cabinets were basically bare, save a few items. One cabinet was completely dedicated to baby food of various types and age ranges. That was the only thing he had a surplus of.

"Bebé pájaro, how is your dad still running around? Nobody can live off of forty-eight types of spices, a box of Crocky Crunch, and half a bottle of Sriracha. You need to tell him he's nuts. Just let him know it. Say, 'Papi, estás loco!' "

Jaye gave her uncle a sort of huff in response to his words. He smiled softly at the baby before he continued trying to figure out what the hell to do about food. There was a box of opened pancake mix that he was fairly certain was still good in one of the cabinets. That'd have to do for now. First and foremost, however, he'd have to get Jaye settled. She needed to be burped and her diaper changed. Then, he could focus on cooking. It didn't take much time to get that all done and without incident, thankfully. So far, she seemed like a pretty calm baby. Dick certainly lucked out in that department. Jason could remember the screams of colic babies and babies born with addictions from a careless parent all too well. Soon enough, people will learn they won't get away with that shit with the Red Hood around.

When Dick woke up, it was to a feeling of wrongness. His hands immediately sought out his daughter, who should be sleeping safely on his chest. He nearly had a heart attack when he realized she wasn't there. The memories of last night seemed more like a dream than anything. Dick leaped from his bed with wide, worried eyes. Then, the soft sound of music burrowed through his onsetting panic. Accompanying the sound was the scent of pancakes. He swallowed down his fear as well as his desire for those dreams to have been real. It could very well be Donna, who was the only one that knew about Jaye and had been coming by to help when she could. The lingering memories of his brother visiting him like the ghost of Christmas past still weighed heavy on his mind, daring him to get his hopes up. He crept toward the commotion with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety twisting in his gut. As much as he loved Donna, he would be crushed if it was her this time.

One thing Dick was not expecting to walk into was Jason in the kitchen, baby cradled in one arm and wielding a spatula in his free hand. Music could be heard emanating from somewhere near Jason. If Dick had to guess, he'd say it came from the man's phone. A grin was steadily creeping up his lips as he crept closer. Just over the music, Dick could hear Jason singing along.

"Que tengo que hacer? Pa que vuelvas conmigo. Vamos a dejar el pasado atrás."

If Dick's eyes weren't tricking him, then Jason was most definitely dancing in place as well. It took all his willpower not to start laughing at the sight. His heart felt ready to burst and tears pricked his eyes. The realization that this was actually happening, Jason was really back and here was nearly overwhelming. So much had gone wrong the past year. It almost made him want to give up time and time again, but he was glad he didn't. Otherwise, Dick would miss the sight of the little brother he was sure he lost forever dancing and singing to his daughter as he made breakfast. Dick took a moment to marvel at the fact that Jason was able to cook and flip the food with no trouble, despite the baby taking up an arm. After another moment of watching, he stepped closer.

"Here, let me take her off your hands."

Now, he was certain Jay would deny it until his second death, but Dick is absolutely positive he just let out a rather unmanly yelp. Jason shifted away from his grasp and whacked at his hands with the spatula.

"Nope. Shouldn't you be asleep for the next, oh I don't know, ten hours or so? You're sleep deprived."

Dick rolled his eyes, though he fought down a small grin.

"Dymaxion cycle, though I just fucked it up."

At that, Jason snorted and mimicked his eye roll. It wouldn't be too hard for Dick to fall back into his odd sleeping pattern, if one could truly call it that. It worked most effectively for his lifestyle, so he couldn't complain. Adopting sleep cycles other than the monophasic wasn't unusual for his family or other heroes for that matter. It just worked out better for them in the end, what with their hectic schedules and 'jobs'.

"What a surprise. And watch your mouth, virgin ears are present."

He quirked a brow at Jason with an amused look on his face. The affection for Jaye was just rolling off his brother in waves. It was heartwarming, really. If he had his phone on him, Dick would definitely be recording this, or taking pictures at least. He wanted a way to look back at this moment and know it wasn't all in his head. All those fever dreams and forays with scare gas have made it difficult to trust his own perception of reality. Not to mention his own fragile mental state from recent events didn't exactly give him confidence in himself. The thoughts were brushed away with a small grin

"Jaye's too young to remember any of this let alone comprehend what we're saying."

Jason gave him a flat, deadpan look at that.

"I was talking about me, pendejo."

Dick couldn't help but laugh. It was good to know he didn't lose his sense of humor after all this time.

"Oh, please, you've got like the third dirtiest mouth I've heard."

If there was one word to describe Jason's expression, it'd be affronted. He looked like Dick just personally insulted everything he held dear.

"Third dirtiest? Now that's just hurtful, Dickhead. I need to up my game."

Knowing Jason and his stubborn nature, he would absolutely start using much more colorful vocabulary, if for no other reason than to prove Dick wrong. He couldn't help but laugh under his breath at Jason's antics. It felt so good to just stand here, joking around like nothing changed even though everything had changed. They both knew it, could feel the fragile peace hanging by a thread. One wrong word would shatter it. So, Dick danced around his words carefully, not willing to be the one that drops the other shoe. If he had to play this balancing act to keep his brother here, then so be it.

"Pfft, I don't know Jay, an angry Roy is pretty mouthy. And have you met Rose? God, we could buy a new Batjet with the money from the swear jar from her alone."

He got a dry sort of scoff in response.

"Didn't get the pleasure of meeting her. I was a little busy taking a dirt nap."

Just like that, the fragile balance teetered off the side. Dick went quiet and the grin slipped from his face. The hero couldn't help but marvel at just how quickly he managed to fuck things up. One sentence. He couldn't make it one damn sentence without saying the wrong thing. He averted his gaze from Jason, who had gone almost eerily still. The tension in the atmosphere spiked as the two remained silent. The music continued to play in the background, an almost laughable contrast to the current ambiance.

It was as if neither of them knew how to handle the situation, which wasn't far from the truth. The reminder of Jason's death, even if only meant as a joke, still twisted something in Dick's heart. He clenched his fists in an effort to keep his tumultuous emotions in check. It seemed like everything left him raw and ready to shatter as of late. Dick hated that. He hated how deeply they left their claws in him. Hated how much they affected him, twisted and broke him. Just looking at Jason now felt like it made the cracks in his armor spiderweb.

He hadn't meant to bring it up. The conversation just got comfy and he got carried away with his words. How often did he let his emotions guide his mouth? Too much, he figured. It was something others mentioned to him; how his heart led him despite his best efforts to remain objective. Dick sighed and turned his gaze back to Jason, ready to apologize for the carelessness of his words. Before he could get a word in, Jason was handing the baby to him.

"Make yourself useful, Dickface. I need to finish these."

He took his daughter without hesitation, though the shame still weighed heavy on him. Fuck, he couldn't do anything right anymore, could he? Dick gave a soft, somber grin to the baby girl as he made his way to his small, shitty table.

"You have fun with tío, čhavi?"

What he got in response were a sleepy blink and a wide yawn. He chuckled quietly. Well, he got one thing right, so far. Jaye would never be a mistake to him, even if the memory of her mother made him feel queasy. The thought of Catalina made his stomach churn violently and lit his nerves on fire. The thought of that night, what she did, what he almost did under her manipulation, usually left him trembling on the verge of a panic attack. So much had gone wrong that night, so much, but God, if he wasn't grateful for his daughter. It still hurt to look at her sometimes, if he was being completely honest. That, in itself, was enough to drive home the self-loathing he felt. How could he see her and feel pain and terror? This is his daughter. He should never feel those things when looking at her.

"Stop it."

His attention was drawn back to Jason as a paper plate with about six pancakes on it was shoved toward him.

"Stop what?"

Dick was genuinely confused. Jason just shot him a look as he sat down heavily at the small table. He was a little surprised the chair didn't snap like a pile of twigs under Jason. His little brother wasn't so little anymore. The fact that he outgrew Dick by a few inches and easily a good amount of weight was almost startling. Last he remembered, Jason was just a small, scrappy kid with not enough meat on his bones. Now here he is, almost eye-level with Bruce and looking as if he crush someone underfoot. He made a vague hand gesture at Dick.

"That. The brooding and shit. I can feel you angsting from over here. Feels like I just walked into Hot Topic on a Friday afternoon."

That successfully drew a slightly startled laugh from Dick. Jaye squirmed at the sudden and unexpected movement. It took a few moments for Dick to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Jason just smirked smugly, pleased with having diffused the situation. After he calmed his breathing a bit, Dick looked over his brother with a growing grin.

"You'd know. You look like you could be the poster child for that place. I'm surprised they got clothes to fit you, Edge Lord."

Jason gave an exaggerated stretch to further show off his 'outfit', which was really just his Red Hood uniform sans the armored pieces. Then, he turned his attention to the cooling pancakes as he spoke.

"It was tricky. I had to cut some things up and sew them together, but that's fine. I make 'homeless zombie' look good. Even got the cashier's number."

Dick let out a breathy chuckle and shook his head slightly.

"You hear this, Jaye? Your uncle is so goofy. When did you get so funny, Little Wing?"

If only Dick knew how that old nickname affected Jason. It was there, in the slight twitch of his hand and the way he swallowed as if suddenly caught by a wave of emotion. He could see it, but he wasn't sure whether it was a good or bad reaction. That contemplation was pushed to the background once Jason flashed him a somewhat forced cheeky grin.

"Learned it from the Grim Reaper. Funny guy, though he's got terrible bedside manners, let me tell you."

There was a running theme in his commentary, Dick could tell. He let out a low, theatrical groan. He was fairly certain this was Jason's method of coping with the horrors he went through. If that was the case, then Dick could play along, even if it made him minutely uncomfortable to joke about. Whatever it took to help Jay and keep him close. Dick wasn't there for him before, this was the least he could do.

"Oh god, this is gonna be a thing with you now, isn't it? Death jokes for every situation."

That shit-eating grin only widened at Dick's reaction.

"Absolutely! It'll be like Hall Mark but morbid."

Dick snorted at the idea. He could really see Jason running with the idea. Now he was half-expecting to receive a 'Merry Deathday' card or something on April 27. If he really got such a thing, he wasn't entirely certain how he'd react. He sighed in a theatrical manner, as if put upon by the turn of conversation.

"I guess everybody needs a gimmick in this business."

His melodramatic words played into this little game Jason had going on. It earned him a somewhat pleased smirk.

"You got it, Dickface. Yours is shitty fashion choices and even worse puns. Mine's reminding everyone I died once through fantastic jokes and zippy one-liners. By the way, did you know I died once?"

If he groaned any harder, Dick was pretty sure his lungs would burst. No matter how many years passed, nobody would ever let him live down his 'Discowing' or 'mullet' faze.

"Jesus Christ, I haven't had enough coffee yet for this. Or whiskey. Whiskey sounds good right about now."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the coffin today."

"My title as the Funny Robin is being threatened. I can't believe this."

"You're damn right Wing-Ding. Viva la revolución, bitch."

Try as he might, Dick could suppress the laughter that shook his body at that. Jason faired no better as he silently laughed behind his hand, as if embarrassed to be caught doing so. As the conversation petered out, their attention was turned to their food. The silence as they ate was much more amicable than before. The underlying current of unease was still there, but it was hidden behind the warmth of their banter. It wouldn't last, they both knew it. Peace never lasted with them. That didn't mean they couldn't enjoy the lingering happiness while it was there. They've learned to take what they could get while they could get it. Moments like this were fleeting and far between with their lifestyle and clashing personalities.

It wasn't until after Dick had settled Jaye into her swing and sat back down that the tentative calm was broken.

"So..."

The look on Jason's face was methodically blank, which was a giant warning sign that whatever he was about to bring up wasn't going to be good. Dick mentally prepared himself, though he had a gut feeling this was going to suck. Their family wasn't known for having the ability to handle emotions well. There were far too many of those popping up the past two days. It's what he got for bottling things up, he supposed. That didn't make talking about what was bothering him any easier. He gave Jason his attention with a similarly blank mask and waited for him to continue.

"Alright, shit, no good way to ask so I'm just gonna come out with it. Is Tarantula the mother?"

Even though Dick had been expecting the question at some point, it still left him feeling sort of nauseous. He attempted to keep just how much it affected him hidden. The slight narrowing of Jason's eyes let him know he wasn't entirely successful. He cleared his throat in an effort to rid himself of the slight choking sensation that kept his words captive. One slow breath later and Dick found himself ready to talk.

"Yeah, she...she's Jaye's mom."

That was the first time Dick ever admitted it out loud and it felt just as horrible as he expected. It felt wrong to say it. The distaste must have been evident on his face because Jason sneered slightly.

"No, she's her mother, her genetic donor. She ain't her mom. There's a big fuckin' difference. She'll never be Jaye's mom."

The words were more comforting than Dick would have thought possible. He closed his eyes for a moment and just breathed deeply. That was something he needed to hear but didn't realize it. Jason was right. She may have given birth to his daughter, but she would never be a part of her life. Not if he had any say in it.

"Right. You're right. Thanks."

He was glad Jason politely ignored the slight tremor in his voice. Dick couldn't wait for the day he could talk about her and this whole situation without feeling like he was cracking apart. The fact that he felt so damn weak, even after almost a year, grated on his nerves. He was drawn out of his inner turmoil by his brother's voice. The sharp look he was getting had Dick feeling as if Jason knew where his thoughts were heading. Ordinarily, he'd tease Dick about being right, but not this time.

"Nothin' to thank me for. Just stating the facts. "

Sometimes, in situations such as a this, Dick was reminded that Jason saw quite a lot on the streets and knew how to deal with certain victims, victims like him (and wasn't that something that pained him to admit), better than anyone else in the family.

"If she tries to come within a hundred yards of Jaye, I'll break her fucking legs."

And then at other times, he was reminded just how blunt his baby brother was. Dick gave him a small, somewhat amused grin. Sure, Dick might not condone excessive violence in every situation, but he found himself hard pressed to be upset by the mental imagery the words brought him. If such an opportunity arose, the hero couldn't say with any degree of confidence that he'd even try to stop Jason from doing exactly as he said. After all, they've done worse to lesser criminals.

"What do you know, it looks like I'll be out sick that day and won't be able to stop you. Crazy, huh?"

Jason gave a low, rough chuckle. There was a look, that look, in his eyes again. It was something less than stable and bordering on feral. Dick wasn't sure what it meant, but something in his gut told him that he wouldn't like it if he knew. It reminded Dick of the night Jason attacked him. Nothing good could come from that look. He saw the very same expression and light elsewhere. In the face of those he arrested. In the ones that crossed the line. Somewhere between death and the Lazarus Pit, Jason changed and Dick feared it was for the worse. It made him uneasy to see the look of a killer on the face of his little brother. Maybe it was foolishly naive to blatantly deny the obvious, especially after what Jason had done to him, but Dick refused to believe Jason could take a life.

While he was busy trying to analyze the shift in his brother's persona, Jason seemed to be struggling with some sort of internal battle. That vicious, shark-like expression looked as if it were being forcefully pushed down. He could see the younger man's grip tightening on the silverware. That unnatural green hue seemed stuck between flaring up and fading away. This must be what Jason meant about having Lazarus episodes. It was worrying. More than that, it was upsetting. Upsetting because Dick felt so helpless, so useless. He had no idea how to make it better. All he wanted to do was drive away that which tormented Jay, but he couldn't. So, since Dick couldn't beat the demons lurking Jason's brain away, he did the next best thing.

He flicked a bit of pancake at Jason's head. Because he was so caught up with his own issues, the morsel of food managed to nail him right between the eyes. Dick looked on in amusement as Jason blinked in surprise, successfully distracted from the mess in his head. Then, those blue-green eyes narrowed at the unspoken challenge.

"Sorry, little bro, you looked like you were thinking too hard. Didn't want you to hurt yourself."

He gave Jason a crooked grin as he spoke. It looked as if Jay were trying to fight down his own little smirk.

"Oh, it's so on Dickface."

He had to duck out of the way from a chunk of flying pancake, only to get hit by a follow-up piece. Dick had to give it to him, Jason had some great aim. Breakfast quickly devolved into the two adults flinging their food back and forth as if they were seven years old again. Their laughter grew louder as they got more extravagant in their maneuvers. Flipping about as they were was completely unnecessary in a food fight, but they were nothing if not competitive. Not only were they trying to land more hits than the other, but they were trying to do so in the most complicated and impressive manner possible.

Somehow, that ended up with them wrestling across the floor and knocking over what sparse possessions Dick owned. The old, battered table cracked and then collapsed after Jason tackled Dick through it. Jaye was startled awake by the loud 'BANG' and let out a wail of fear. The two men immediately ceased their rough-housing and rushed to calm the upset infant. Their overprotective natures were very obvious in the way they hovered and coddled her. Jason looked over the wreckage with an almost sheepish expression.

"Uh...sorry."

Dick just looked over the mess and snorted. He was far too happy at the moment to care about a broken table. Hell, this was the happiest he's been in months. Nothing short of a catastrophe was going to bring him down from here.

"It's fine Little Wing, I needed a new table anyway. Hold her while I clean it up?"

Though it was phrased as a question, he left little choice as he pushed Jaye into Jason's arms. His brother floundered for a moment, having wanted to decline and help fix the mess he made. Dick wanted him to hold his niece. Jason seemed happiest with the little girl in his arms. He'd do damn near anything to make sure Jason stayed happy.

His daughter remained crying and squirming while Jason did his best to soothe the frantic baby. His efforts were fruitless as she continued crying. She seemed set in her fit, now that she was startled awake. The slightly lost look on Jason's face as he dealt with the inconsolable child was priceless.

"Shh, shh it's okay Jaye. Daddy and tío are sorry. We didn't mean to scare you. Dick, what uh..what was that song you were singing to her before? She likes that, right?"

It was clear Jason was uncomfortable bringing up that night, but he was desperate to calm his niece down. Dick looked up and tried to smother his soft grin. Then, he momentarily abandoned his clean up duty to take a seat on the couch, making sure to grab her pacifier on the way, and motioned for Jason to do the same.

"Yep, she likes it. It's called Mori Shej, a Romani lullaby-"

Jason let out a disgruntled sound as took the pacifier and he rocked her gently.

"Yeah yeah, skip the history lesson. She's gonna scream her lungs out."

Dick's lips twitched slightly as he watched his brother try to calm his daughter. The sheer volume of joy and affection he felt threatened to overwhelm him.

"Alright, jeez. It starts out like this. Buter káj egy berseszki szán. Móri drágo piko séj..."

The way Jason stumbled over the foreign words as he tried to sing his niece to sleep was downright adorable, not that Dick would ever say that to his face. He liked his jaw unbroken, thank you very much. The little girl sniffled and tried to squirm her way closer to her uncle as his deep voice rumbled out her favored lullaby.

"Buter káj egy berseszki szán. Móri drágo piko séj..."

[dickie-gayson]

Mori Shej; Litost pt.1

After a month of hiding out, Jason thinks he might be able to sneak away without getting caught. Naturally, he was proven wrong. There must be some sort of cosmic laugh track for whenever Dick shows up to mess with his plans. How exactly did he go from trying to kill Dick to comforting him? He really needs to look over his priorities.

Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson

Warning: Mentions of rape

Pairing: None

Genre: Angst? Hurt/Comfort?

Words: 9,301 (e n d  m e)

Other Parts: one

ALSO: I take prompts and requests -finger guns-

Notes: I am not pleased with this. It is garbage, but hard-worked garbage. Maybe you’ll enjoy it lol There will be another part to further explore their issues and really discuss them. This was just dragging on and I didn’t only want it shoehorned in, you know? 

After his assault on Dick, Jason had to lay low to avoid being found. So low, he was almost surprised he didn't run into Brendan Fraser at the center of the damn Earth. Sure, he may have gone a bit overboard in his subterfuge, but one could never be too careful when it came to running from the Bats. It took every trick in his arsenal to keep the steadily growing clan off his back. His paranoia had reached its peak. For weeks, he monitored the hero community and tracked their movements. Jason wouldn't even leave his hideout without watching the security feed and, hell, even the nearby traffic cameras first. Even still, he had a few close calls.

Funnily enough, he was nearly caught by those outside the family. He had been so focused on evading their techniques and methods that he forgot to account for the other heroes he managed to piss off. When he hurt Dick, nearly killed him, Jason brought himself under the hero community's scrutiny with laser-like intensity. He honest to God debated on plating his temporary hideout with lead to keep the Supers from finding him. Then, he realized that'd probably be a little obvious and they'd just figure it out anyway. At least, if he gets caught by them now, he'll have saved himself the trouble and money.

What a shitshow his life has become. Damn near every single one of his plans had to be scrapped. All because he couldn't go through with the first step. Now, he was forced to hide in a fucking bunker, eating canned food and staring at monitors until the heat was off him. Still, he wouldn't change his actions. Well, okay, he'd change the fact that he beat the shit out of Dick. He'd go about everything differently. There didn't have to be blood.

God, there had been so much blood.

He still saw it when he closed his eyes. Saw the broken form on the floor, begging and pleading. Saw him leaning on the door frame, barely breathing. Saw the red on the pacifier, staining the clothes. In his dreams, the red spread and spread and spread. In his dreams, he didn't stop kicking. Sometimes, it changed. They would be in a warehouse. He would hit the downed man over and over. There would be a crowbar in his hands and in the background there would be laughter, high and shrill and so grating. There would be a baby shrieking somewhere in the darkness. And there would be a song, softly coming from the broken man. It wouldn't end. He'd hit and hit, screaming for silence but the song wouldn't end. It wouldn't end until he did. Until there was no more sound. No more swinging, no more laughter or screaming. Nothing but blood. So much blood.

Those dreams left him coated in a cold sweat, heaving with nothing to come up. He'd shake in his bed and press the heel of his palms to his eyes to try and erase the lingering memories. If only things had gone differently. If only he hadn't lost his mind, been dunked in the Pit, gone to Ethiopia. If only, if only.

From there, he'd rise and check his security before watching the monitors. Depending on his stock, he might test his luck and traverse the city in civilian gear. Sure, he should be perfectly fine walking unmasked around the city without anyone catching on to who he was, but still. These were heroes, Bats, and if there's one thing they excelled at, it was doing the fucking impossible. He wasn't keen to be caught just yet.

Except, there was a tiny part of him that did want to be caught. Wanted to face what he'd done. He also wanted to see their expressions when they realized who he was. Sure, Jason regretted what he'd done to Dick, but that didn't mean he suddenly felt love for Bruce and the replacement. They still made his stomach churn and the haze creep to the edge of his mind. He might not hate Dick as much as he thought he did, but he sure as shit still hated the others.

Since he was being honest with himself, he also wanted to see Jaye again. He wanted to get to know the little girl carrying his name; wanted to be a good uncle. But, he destroyed that chance, just as he ruined everything else he touched. Maybe it was for the best. She didn't need to know the fuck up that was 'Uncle Jason'. Let her live and be raised with the glorified version of himself she'd no doubt be told. At least, then, she'd hold a little pride in her name. What right did he have to ruin it for her, especially after what he'd done?

He sighed to himself at the thought. Really, he would have loved to play the role of Unce Jay. It may surprise some, but Jason got along with children better than he did most adults. Did he want kids? Yeah, he honestly did. But, that wouldn't happen. He couldn't let it happen. If he couldn't control himself when he got too emotional, then how the hell could he ever hope to raise a child? Even more of a reason to stay away from Jaye. He couldn't risk her safety like that.

Shit, he made it sound like he even had the chance to be around her. After what he did? There was no fucking way he'd be allowed within a hundred-foot radius of the little girl. That stung a little more than he'd like it to. It made the little plush elephant in his inner pocket seem to weigh a million pounds. The stuffed animal was an impulse purchase. He seen the little patchwork toy and immediately thought of the baby with the acrobat dad. Too bad she'd never get to play with it. But, he did this to himself and he'd live with the consequences.

A startled noise got caught in his throat as something made heavy impact with his helmet. Immediately, he flung himself backward, shook the sluggishness from his mind, and pulled out his pistols. 'Who the-'

Dick.

Of course. Because Jason's life wasn't fucking ridiculous enough. It was one disaster after another, wasn't it? He raised his pistols to keep the costumed vigilante at bay. Jason couldn't help the almost queasy feeling he got from aiming the weapons at the hero. In his mind, all he seen was the steady spread of red. Dick outstretched one hand and caught the ricocheting escrima stick without so much as turning to look at the weapon. His attention was undividedly on Jason. That...was not good.

What was he going to do now? This was the first night he came out in his Red Hood gear since that night. He figured over a damn month would be enough time hiding to be able to sneak away. Clearly, he was wrong. Jason didn't want to fight Dick. He really didn't. But, if push came to shove, he would. He couldn't let Dick get him. That would mean being thrown in Blackgate or, and this gave him nightmares, Arkham. Or, even worse, Bruce would show up. He...he couldn't handle that. Not right now. He needed time. Needed to recuperate and revise his plans. He needed to escape.

"Now -'

Jason didn't let him finish his statement. He made a wayward shot at Dick's feet as a distraction. While the black and blue clad hero was busy avoiding the clumsy attack, Jason ran. Okay, so, maybe running hadn't been his best plan, he'll admit it. Being up high, in the air, was Dick's forte. Not to mention he was fast; faster than Jason was. There was also the fact that this was Nightwing's territory. Jason may have been hiding here for a while, but that's nothing on the years Dick had to memorize the city, top to bottom.

He made it an admirable four buildings down before something, presumably Dick, sent him to the ground. Jason immediately started to struggle and buck against the weight that pinned him down. Being constrained like this only made Jason want to flee more. The panic was starting to set in. His chest heaved and, was it just him, or was someone laughing? No, no, he had to keep his head straight. There was no laughter. That was only in his mind. There was no reason to panic. It's only Dick, he won't hurt Jason. He won't do that.

...But what if he did? What if wanted retribution for what Jason did to him, in his own home, no less? It's what Jason would do. He needed to get out of here. It was hard to focus on his training when his own brain kept trying to drag him back to bound chairs and closed caskets. There was a sudden pressure on the underside of his jaw. It forced his head back and he had to look at the cold face that stared at him. Dick was using his escrima in the same manner Jason had used his gun to control him. Ordinarily, a stick wouldn't scare him, but he was very well aware of the high-voltage taser they doubled as. That was something he wasn't keen on experiencing.

So, he laid there and stared in silence. Mentally, he counted and tried to keep his breathing even. The anxiety and fear was still there, but he couldn't let himself focus on that. Instead, he focused on the quiet vigilante that held him captive. 'It's just Dick. He won't hurt me. It's just Dick.' He repeated that mantra in his head in time with his breathing. It helped a little, but couldn't stop the slight shaking that took over his hands. Jason curled them into fists in an effort to try and hide the tell. Before Dick had a chance to begin his interrogation, Jason spoke.

"I'm sorry."

The words seemed to spill from his lips without his permission. The tone of his voice, even modified, was downright pathetic. He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed thickly. That wasn't what he intended to say. Hell, he hadn't planned on speaking, period. But, apparently, his guilty conscience got the better of him. Dick had gone almost frighteningly still above him, and Jason was almost afraid to look. When he did open his eyes, he was greeted with a carefully blank expression. The pressure on his jaw did not lessen. Dick's voice was just as pointedly neutral as his face.

"Why?"

Shit, there were a million and one answers to that question. It was like a grab bag of fucked up. Rather than pick and choose which interpretation of the question to answer, he decided to ask for clarification.

"Ya gotta be a little more specific than that. Why what?"

The weapon was pressed just a bit harder into his flesh. It forced his head to tilt at an even more awkward angle. 'Ow, okay, this is getting uncomfortable.' Dick opened his mouth, as if to answer, but no words came out. He seemed to flounder for a bit. Maybe he was struggling with the situation as much as Jason was. Strangely, there wasn't much comfort to be found in that. Who would have thought.

"Why did you come after me? Why do you want to kill me? Why didn't you kill me? Why call for help? Why...why comfort my daughter? Why?"

The more he spoke, the worse his voice became. He looked borderline broken, worse than the night he actually did get broken. This wasn't right. He shouldn't be losing his composure so quickly over this. Jason knew Dick was better at keeping it under control. Yeah, he knew the older vigilante had some anger issues, which of them didn't? But this...this fragile state, this breaking apart, it wasn't right. There's no way Jason was the only cause. He couldn't be. Bats were better than this. Dick was better than this. He was the perfect fucking Golden Boy. It didn't make sense. And damn, it sent a feeling of unease slithering around his gut. He went to shift, but a firm press of the escrima ended that. Talking was getting a little difficult with the angle his head was at, but he'd endure. If Dick could do it, so could he.

"Well, damn, start with the hard questions, why don't ya? You sure you wanna hear the answers on a rooftop in the middle of 'Haven? Who knows who might be listenin'."

It was only partially a joke. One that fell rather flat, at that. There could be a whole list of people skulking around to hear this and Jason really didn't want that. Especially since Dick was notorious for having morally ambiguous people after him for one reason or another. Jason did not want to get caught up in that weird web. No thank you, check please. Hell, he's been laying low and he's still hearing gossip from the criminal underground about 'Nightwing's ass' this and 'Nightwing's skin tight suit' that. Jason would have lost his shit ages ago.

Dick didn't seem to find his joke very funny, not that Jason could blame him. From the way the older hero tensed minutely, he probably assumed that was a vague threat. Jason really wasn't good at picking his words, it seemed. Maybe he should just start speaking in Shakespearean quotes. That could be his gimmick. It'd probably work out better for him in the end, honestly. No, wait, Shakespeare was just as much a cocky shit as he was. An irritated sound coming from Dick brought him out of his musings. Damn, he was really not in the right state of mind for this. He blamed it on being alone for so long and not the copious amounts of trauma he was wrapped up in. Jason just made a little gesture with his hands to show he hadn't meant it as a threat. Was Dick's finger creeping toward the taser? Oh God, he did not want to taste 50,000 volts right now, or, you know, ever.

"Alright, alright, jeez. Sorry if this isn't exactly something I want getting around."

Just like the joke-that-wasn't-a-joke, his words fell flat. He wanted to diffuse the situation, get that damn fractured glass look off Dick. This entire fucking situation set his teeth on edge. He noticed it before, that something was decidedly wrong with Dick. But right now, with the look and tone of his voice, the way he was being way too serious with his threats, Jason knew he was right. How the fuck did it go from him trying to kill Dick to trying to comfort him? Was he really that starved for affection he'd latch onto the first person that might give it to him? ...That was a question he decided he didn't want to think about and simply ignored the blatantly obvious answer. Instead, he wet his lips and spoke. He hated how unsure he sounded.

"I...Shit...I meant to kill you. Had these plans and ideas. I was gonna send him a message. But I...I couldn't do it. If you didn't have that baby, I wouldn't have hesitated and...I'm...kind of glad I did. Don't get me wrong, I still want to punch you in the fuckin' face at least fourteen times but I-I don't want you dead. Fuck, this is all fucked."

For his part, Dick was quiet. It was actually getting very unnerving how quiet he was being. Dick was a chatterbox, this was a known fact. But the way he was just staring, blank and cold, was almost frightening. He wasn't supposed to look like a statue. Scratch that, he wasn't supposed to look like him. Bruce was the cold, quiet, unforgiving one. Not Dick. Dick was supposed to be his opposite; his foil. What happened? When he spoke, Dick's voice was low and, man, Jason couldn't even pinpoint the exact tone. It was like thin ice; cold but fractured.

"Who are you?"

At that, Jason was the one to go eerily still. Then, he began to squirm. Nope, nope, he was not answering that. Fuck it, he'll take the tasing if he got out of here with his anonymity. Suddenly, he felt the unmistakably sharp edge of a Wing-Ding (God, that was such a stupid fucking name. Of course, Dick came up with it) pressing against his neck. Great, make that a taser AND a borderline-knife to his throat. He stilled once more. The shaking increased to full body and he felt himself getting ready to really panic. The part of him that was keeping calm made note that this was also something Dick should definitely not be doing. Threatening people at Wing-Ding point (seriously, he needed to come up with a different name, this is just ridiculous) wasn't usually his style. Maybe he really did change since Jason's been gone.

"I can't...Please, don't make me answer that. I can't. Dick, I...I can't."

If he wasn't on the verge of a panic attack, Jason would have been mortified at the absolutely pitiful tone his voice took and the fact that he actually used Dick's name in the field. The sheer terror that took over his being seemed to catch Dick off-guard. The hero actually backed off a bit while surprise colored his previously frigid expression. Almost on instinct, Jason took advantage of the opportunity. He hit Dick in his midsection in an attempt to wind and distract the older man. Apparently, the wounds weren't as healed as Jason was led to believe. If they were, Dick wouldn't have yelped in pain.

As quickly as he could, Jason scrambled away from the momentarily stunned hero. Maybe he could get away this time. Dick was still injured and the previous chase had to have taxed him at least a little bit. It wasn't until he hit the edge of the building that he hesitated. Guilt chewed him up again. That was getting real old, real fast. Still, this might be his only opportunity and he had to take it. He turned and reached into his jacket. Dick was already on his feet and looked a little worse for the wear, if his slightly shaking shoulders were anything to go by. Fuck, why was he patrolling at all in his current state? Did he want to die?

Before he could think better of it, Jason tossed the small stuffed elephant to the hero who caught it effortlessly. He looked at the toy in both surprise and confusion before he turned his attention back to his apparent adversary.

"For her. You could let her know Uncle Jay misses her or something."

That was a decidedly stupid move on his part. Beyond stupid, really. Way, way, WAY beyond stupid. Something he was going to completely and thoroughly beat himself up over later. He took Dick's momentary surprise as a getaway. It wasn't even one full building over before he was knocked over again. 'Note to self: Running from Dick is a Bad Idea.' This time, however, it wasn't an escrima or tackle that brought him down. It was a small, explosive pellet thrown at his feet that did him in. Okay, so he should have been prepared for that. He knew Dick had those on him. However, he was way too distracted by what he just did and the fallout he'd have to deal with. Not to mention the creeping hysteria that flooded his veins. A sick feeling twisted in his gut. 'This is bad. This is bad. This is BAD.'

Before he could fully stand, a foot swung into his view and he only had a brief moment to try and block it. It still felt like getting kicked by a fucking horse. Honestly, Dick probably hit harder with his feet than his hands. Jason went sailing back to the ground with incredible force. Wow, if this is what it felt like when he was kicking Dick, then he felt significantly more sorry than before. Rather than pin his whole body, Dick chose to put a foot on Jason's throat and press down threateningly. There were several ways to get out of this position, but Dick was aware of every single one of them and Jason knew it. It was like he was waiting for Jason to try; waiting for him to give Dick a reason to stomp. This wasn't right.

"Now, you're going to answer my questions. This isn't up for negotiation. Did you or did you not just threaten my daughter?"

His voice, if Jason was being completely truthful, was fucking terrifying. There was something almost...unhinged about the way his voice dipped. Jason always wanted to see the Golden Boy lose it. He wanted to see Dick brought down to his level. Now that he's seen it? He isn't so sure he wanted it anymore. It was so unnatural. He could almost see Dick as a killer and that thought was horrifying. Trying to wrangle in a murderous Grayson would be a nightmare.

Jason felt an intense flare of indignation at Dick's accusation. Why the fuck did he think Jason was threatening Jaye? Nothing inherently malicious was mentioned. All he said was...Oh. Oh. That would make sense. Yeah, Jason was really not good at picking his words as of late. Then again, this would have been entirely avoidable if Dick knew who he was. But then that would mean he would find out because Dick was his fucking lapdog. Jason was not ready for that confrontation. Fuck, he thought he was ready for this confrontation but, obviously, he was wrong. If he couldn't handle speaking to Dick, then there was absolutely no way he could speak to Bruce. Not yet.

He debated for a moment the pros and cons of letting Dick just crush his throat. That would certainly save him some trouble, wouldn't it? As if he read Jason's mind, Dick applied a discomforting amount of pressure on his neck. Yeah, no, Jason was not feeling the whole 'crushed trachea' thing. He let out a frustrated sound before he spoke. It was clear he was not at all pleased with either his position or the accusation.

"No, that wasn't a threat, Dickhead. I was being nice. I'd never hurt a child."

Dick just stared at him with that wrong look.

"Take off the helmet."

Again, as if those were the magic words, Jason started to struggle. No no no no.

"Take it off or I break it off."

Jason's heart was speeding like a jackrabbit's as he stared up at Dick. There was no trace of the man he used to know. This one was entirely serious about his threat. Jason knew Dick could be brutal, downright vicious, but this was like staring at a stranger. Why that hurt as much as it did, Jason didn't want to think about. All he did know was something had happened when he was gone.

"...What happened to you?"

He felt like that little fucking fifteen-year-old again with the vulnerable tone. No, he couldn't get caught up in this. He had his own problems. Hell, he had a fucking mountain of issues to deal with. There was no way adding whatever baggage Dick was carrying with him to his own pile was a good idea. Still, seeing the way Dick seemed to seize at the words, didn't sit right with him. Whatever occurred really fucked up the seemingly untouchable hero. No, he had people he could turn to. Everybody loved him and he was a fucking blabbermouth. He could get his own help.

Shit, Jason already knew this was over for him. Dick was a Bat. That basically guaranteed emotional constipation and a tendency to self-destruct. Given Dick's penchant to blame himself for everything and that stupid hero-complex, Jason just knew he was stewing in this in total silence. Why did his compassion have to rear it's head now? Oh, who was he kidding? He was a fucking bleeding heart and he knew it. Jason would never admit it, though. He had some dignity left; not much, but some.

With shaking hands he didn't even try to hide anymore, he pulled off his helmet. His breath came to him short and sharp as he tried to keep himself calm. 'It's okay. Maybe he won't recognize me. He's not them. I'm fine. It'll be fine.' Dick just stared at him for a minute. It had to be the longest minute of his life. Well, his current life.

Jason could pinpoint the exact moment recognition hit Dick. The way he inhaled was so sharp and sudden that Jason almost felt bad for his ribs. He let his escrima drop to the ground as he all but jumped away from the downed man like he was a leper. Jason sat up against his forearms and watched as the older vigilante paled dramatically.

"No. No, not again. You're...you're not real."

Teal eyes widened as he watched Dick press his hands to his eyes, as if that could erase the situation they were in. Jesus, has Dick hallucinated about him before? Was it nightmares? Had his death really gotten to Dick that much? Sure, he named his daughter after Jason, but this? This was a whole new level of trauma. Dick continued to speak and Jason wasn't sure if it was to himself or not.

"Who...Clayface? Spinebender? Mirage? Damn it, WHO?!"

Alright, so Dick thought he was an imposter. Really, Jason shouldn't be surprised. He'd probably think the same thing, were he in Dick's position. This should probably get cleared up before Dick kicks his head clean off his shoulders. It looked like that was only about two seconds away from happening. God, he was an absolute wreck.

"Di- 'Wing, it's...it's really me. I swear."

Later, he'd really have to reflect on how everything kept getting turned around on him. First, he went to kill Dick only to save him. Then, he wanted to run away and keep his identity a secret, only to actually try and convince Dick it was really him. What even were his priorities anymore? His decision only felt a little more right when he saw the almost feral way Dick shook his head. Jason might want to stay hidden, but Dick was clearly falling apart at the damn seams and nobody else seemed to notice. Motherfucking bleeding heart.

"You're lying!"

Yep, that was definitely an angry and threatening walk. Dick approached him with quick, irate steps. Jason had to subdue the urge to skitter backward from the hero. No, he could do this. Fuck his fears. They won't control him. He won't allow it. Not anymore. That didn't stop his heart from jackhammering in his chest. His throat felt so dry all of a sudden.

"I'm not. I can prove it! You remember the cocaine lab? The first time we met? I nearly fucked up the whole thing. When we were done, you told me I needed to work on my sidekick. You...you gave me your Robin suit that day."

That stopped Dick dead in his tracks. If Jason were feeling funny, he would say that Dick looked like he seen a ghost, but he wasn't really feeling the humor right now.

"J-Jason?"

He sounded so hopeful. So broken. It made Jason's heart clench. There was no way he affected Dick that much. No, he couldn't have. He couldn't. Because...because if he did, then that meant Jason was wrong. At least, wrong up until a point. But that still meant he was wrong. God, he nearly killed Dick. And here he was, looking like the world was simultaneously handed to him and torn away. Dick had no reason to look at him that way. Not after what happened.

He was suddenly in front of Jason. His hands hovered like he wanted to touch but was unsure if he could. Maybe he was afraid Jason would disappear the moment they made contact. Is that what he dreamt about? Jason tried to swallow down the lump in his throat as he stared at Dick.

"Hey, Big Bird."

The air was almost strangled out of his lungs from the tight hug he found himself in. Dick was holding Jason like he was the only thing keeping the older vigilante together. His whole body shuddered from the sobs he tried to keep inside him. Just like that, Jason lost it himself. He wrapped his hands around his brother's torso and held on like his life depended on it. It was only a vague memory of what he did that kept him from squeezing Dick as hard as he wanted to. Enough damage was wrought by his hands. He didn't need to exacerbate the old wounds. Tremors racked his body. It felt like his heart was going to burst from the way it was beating and twisting with pain. Tears pricked his eyes as he trembled against the warm embrace. Fuck, he missed this, the affection, so much. He didn't deserve it.

That thought was almost enough to get him to pull away, but the tight grip Dick had him in left him without a choice. Beyond the guilt, he was perfectly content to endure the hug. Jason would deny all claims that he was affection-starved, even if it was true. Little gasps and sobs came from the two as they sat on the rooftop. Quiet 'I'm sorry's passed back and forth until it was uncertain who was saying it anymore. They sat like that until the trembling calmed its tempo but their grips never loosened. Finally, finally, Dick pulled back just enough to look at Jason's face again. Wonderment filled the anguished face once more.

"How...What happened? They..they said you died. Where have you been? Why...Why..?"

It seemed like he couldn't finish the question, but the pain twisting his features was enough of an indicator as to what he was asking. 'Why attack me? Why hurt me?' That sent a fresh wave of guilt surging through Jason. He let out a shaky breath before finding the strength in himself to speak.

"Can we talk somewhere else?"

Dick nodded rapidly but seemed unwilling to let go of his almost-death grip on Jason. After another moment, he backed off and stood up. Jason grabbed his helmet and followed suit with unsteady feet. There was a good deal of uncertainty in the look he gave Dick. Where would they go from here? He'd leave it to the black and blue clad hero. Dick ran a shaky hand through his hair before he seemed to remember something. He turned unexpectedly on his heel and jogged to the further edge of the building. When he returned, the small elephant was in his hands. He looked at it with a small, frail smile.

"Couldn't leave her first present from her Uncle behind, could I?"

The words wobbled slightly with unbidden emotions. If it's that hard to hide it all, then the sheer volume of emotions he must be feeling is staggering. Jason let out a breath of laughter, just as unsteady in tone as Dick.

"Yeah, can't have that."

They were both complete and total wrecks. This wasn't how Jason planned things. It's not how he wanted everything to go down. But, well, maybe this was how it should go down. He felt jittery and the anxiety still lingered in his nerves. It was going to be a long, long night. Still, maybe...maybe he could salvage this. Maybe this can end on good terms. God, did he hope it would end on good terms. But, something nagged at Jason. The ever-lingering fear that Bruce would find out. That Dick would tell him. It made the panic and haze want to creep in. To quell his own worries, he spoke up.

"Dick, you can't tell anyone. Not yet. Just, promise me you won't. Especially B-Bruce."

Saying the name out loud was so much more difficult than saying it in his head. It left a funny taste in his mouth. The man in question gave him a long, sad look before he nodded. Jason was willing to bet he'd agree to jump off the Empire State Building right now if Jason asked it of him.

"I won't tell. Promise."

As if to seal the promise, he took the comm from his ear and tossed it aside. Jason raised his eyebrows at that. It seemed a bit much, but he appreciated the sentiment. Plus, he knew how Bruce could be. It wasn't beyond the man to hack the others comms if he suspected something was up.

The trip was a silent one with Jason shadowing Dick's moves. The acrobat wasn't being nearly as, well, acrobatic as he usually was. There were no flashy moves or unnecessary flips. It was probably from his still injured ribs. Every so often, Dick would look back, as if to make sure Jason was still there and not a figment of his imagination. It made Jason a little queasy. Just how bad has Dick's mental state become?

Eventually, they got to an apartment just off The Spine. Jason politely ignored how long it took Dick to undo his own defenses. He knew from experience how frustrating it could be to undo such a thing with shaking hands. Dick slid the window open before suddenly going still. It made a spike of fear shoot up Jason's spine. Was something wrong? Did someone break in? Oh, God, don't say someone hurt Jaye. Dick just gave him a side-glance.

"Forgot about the babysitter. Wait a minute and I'll send them away."

Jason let out a breath of air he didn't even realize he was holding. He had to stifle the sudden urge to punch Dick for worrying him like that. Instead, he just gave a slight nod and watched the hero slip through the window. The solitude gave Jason a minute to reflect on the really bad decisions that led him to this moment. He was still weighing in on whether or not revealing his identity to Dick was one of those decisions when said hero stuck his head through the window and waved him in.

He swallowed down his anxiety and entered the sparse apartment. It only took a glance around to realize this was Dick's new apartment. The babysitter (and just who was babysitting for the hero, anyway?) should have tipped him off, but it really sunk in standing here. He didn't quite know how to feel about Dick bringing him back to where he lived after what happened in his last home. It almost felt wrong to be here. But the way Dick was looking at him, no mask to hide his eyes this time, squashed that feeling. The look he was getting almost made the tears return. Jason didn't deserve that look. He took off his own domino; the last thing between Red Hood and Jason Todd.

Dick stepped closer and stared at him with such sincere intensity, it nearly burned. He watched the mild confusion take over the other man's face. Jason knew why. Since his death and resurrection, he's changed. The Pit took some scars and tinged his eyes. They were greener than they used to be. It seemed Dick realized where the shade came from by the way the confusion morphed into shock and, this hurt a bit, horror. Jason just stepped back and lowered his eyes. He couldn't look at that expression any longer. His emotions were already scrubbed raw enough as is. That would do nothing but worsen the situation, he knew it.

Instead of the accusations he was expecting for someone dunked in the Lazarus Pit, he got a firm hand on his shoulder. Still, he didn't look up. Then, he was yanked into yet another fierce hug. Dick shoved his face into the crease of Jason's neck and shoulder as he trembled. Jason returned the hug again with as much intensity as he could without worsening the others injuries. When Dick spoke, it was muffled against his leather jacket, but Jason could still understand him.

"I'm sorry. Whatever happened, I'm sorry. I should have been there. I gave you the suit, I...I should have been there. God, I'm so sorry. I failed you."

Jason choked back a sob at the words. That's what he's been telling himself since his resurrection. Over and over, like a mantra, he'd tell himself that they failed him. They weren't there for him. It was their fault. But hearing it now? He wanted nothing more than to shake Dick and tell him he was wrong.

"Shut up, you masochistic fuck. It wasn't your fault...It, shit, it wasn't. Joker did this. And I put the suit on without your help. I blamed you for a long time. I did, but I was wrong. Dick, I was wrong."

That just caused the other man to cry harder and tighten his death grip. Saying it all was almost cathartic, but it still hurt. It left an aching, hollowed out feeling in his chest. His own tears slid down the black and blue suit as he buried his face into his brother's shoulder.

"I...I didn't even get to go to your funeral, Jason. He didn't even tell me."

Those words caused Jason to go stone-still. The absolute pain and betrayal that washed through him hurt. Jason backed up a bit, effectively putting an end to their embrace. Dick's face was splotchy and his eyes completely bloodshot. Jason doubted he looked any better.

"What?"

He really, really, really hoped he heard Dick wrong or misinterpreted him. Something. Because that...what he was saying was just ridiculous. There's no way...

"Bruce didn't even tell me you died! I was off-world for a mission when you...when it happened. He never told me. I found out when I returned and seen it in the database. I missed your funeral. I wasn't there again. I'm so sorry."

Dick seemed to hold himself as if that could keep him together while he shook apart. Jason's breathing started coming up short and fast. 'Bruce didn't even tell him. He didn't even tell Dick. I didn't even matter enough for my own brother to know.' He didn't even realize just how badly he was shaking until Dick tried to calm him down. Jason shoved him backward and looked around wildly. His eyes landed back on Dick. He looked hurt from the rejection. It made Jason close his eyes and try to calm his frazzled nerves before he blacked out again. This wasn't Bruce. Dick didn't deserve his anger. He had to remind himself over and over. It was Bruce, not Dick, who should get his wrath. Thoughts of the baby in the next room helped him strangle down the beast in him. He could do this.

 When he looked back up, he noticed Dick open his mouth, probably to apologize again. Jason didn't think he could handle that anymore. Instead, he just held up a hand to ask for a moment. He sucked in deep breath after deep breath. Finally, when he felt stable enough, he lowered his hand.

"The Pit, it...messed me up. I can't- I can't control myself anymore. Too many emotions and I just lose it."

Admitting his weakness was hard, but he had to get it out there. Dick looked like he wanted to engulf him in yet another bone-crushing hug but refrained. Instead, he just nodded with a look of agony on his face. Was he still feeling guilty? Then again, they were both mentored by the same man and self-blame seemed to be a sort of a staple in their lessons. The two of them alone could probably hold entire seminars about it. They'd be a therapist's dream.

"It'll be okay, Jay. We..we can work on it."

We. Even after everything, Dick still said 'we'. Said it like Jason hadn't explicitly stated he wanted to murder him. Like Jason didn't almost kick him to death. What is with that man?

"How can you say that? After what I did to you?"

The questions hurt to say and his voice only further illustrated that fact. He was terrified that Dick would suddenly come to his senses. He didn't deserve this kindness, but he didn't want to lose it either. He didn't want to lose his brother again. He didn't want to be alone.

Dick, for his part, looked equally scared. Why? He took a careful step closer to his newly rediscovered brother like he was a skittish animal. Honestly, Jason almost felt like a skittish animal. Everything in him was screaming to 'run' but he ignored all of it. He was going to see this through to the end, whatever that may be.

"I don't know why you did it, but you didn't let me die. You called Donna. You comforted Jaye. That says a lot."

Jason just shook his head in denial.

"Why are you trying to erase what I did? I was the reason Donna needed to be called. I was the reason Jaye needed comfort. I left you in a pool of your own blood. I almost killed you!"

It took real effort to keep from screaming at Dick. Why was he trying to make excuses for Jason? Why was Jason trying to sabotage this for himself? God, he just wanted the acceptance. He wanted to take the forgiveness and smother himself with it. So why, why was he fighting it? His hands found their way to his hair and he pulled as he fought to keep himself in control. It wouldn't be surprising if Dick could hear his teeth grinding from over there.

Suddenly, there were hands over his. They tried to gently ease his fingers of their death grip. Dick's voice was soft. He could feel the hands on top his shaking.

"I'm not trying to erase it. I'm trying to figure out what happened to my baby brother and help him. I'm trying not to lose you again. I don't want to lose you again."

Dick's voice cracked at the end from the torrent of emotions that bubbled within him. Jason was nearly gasping for air at this point. Hearing that...Jason hadn't even realized it's what he wanted, no, what he needed. Slowly, as if he was afraid Jason would push him away again, Dick pulled him back into his arms. His grip was softer but no less warm. Jason couldn't hold back the sob as he buried his face once more against Dick's shoulder. The tears came harder and the shaking more violent. He could feel Dick's own silent trembling.

"I don't want to lose you either. I need...I need help. Dick, I need you. I can't do this on my own. I can't."

His voice was hoarse and any pretense of control he had was so far gone, he doubted it'd ever come back. At the moment, he didn't care. It was like once the floodgates opened, they couldn't be shut. All the hurt and pain that built up over the years just came tumbling out. And Dick took it all with soft strokes against his hair and warm whispers. He could hear the hitching in Dick's breath as he tried to comfort Jason.

"I'm not going anywhere, Little Wing. I'll be right here with you. I promise. We'll figure this out. It'll be okay. You're strong, Jay. We can do this."

It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Jason. Still, it helped calm the distressed man somewhat. It didn't stop the pain completely. It didn't still the tears, but it helped. They stood there for a while and soaked up the comfort the other exuded. After he calmed a bit more, Jason pulled back just enough to look Dick in the eye.

"I'm not the only one who needs help."

His tone left no room for doubt. Jason knew something was wrong with Dick. From the almost frightened look that took over his bright blue eyes, Jason was downright positive about it.

"Jason, I-'

He cut Dick off before he could try and deny it all.

"I know something's wrong. You wouldn't threaten me the way you had, even with what I did. And...you're just not right. You look like you're a breath away from literally shattering. You want to help me? Well, I want to help you too."

Dick's lips trembled from the obvious effort it took him to hold back his emotions. Jason didn't know why he bothered at this point. They already crossed that uncomfortable bridge. It looked like he wanted to protest further, but he also knew Jason was equally as stubborn as he was. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted the help as much as Jason did.

"Jay, so much has happened. I don't even know where to start. Everything's just...it's all fallen apart. I don't know what to do anymore."

That brought a frown to Jason's lips. Sure, he had monitored the family and such, but he didn't exactly delve into everything they've done. Okay, so maybe he did track Bruce that closely. But Dick wasn't his main concern, so he didn't think to follow the going-ons of his life. He made a slight gesture to the seating off to his right. If they were really going to hash all this out right now, then they should probably get comfortable. Dick moved without hesitation or resistance and took a seat on the couch while Jason sat diagonal to him in an armchair.

He waited patiently for Dick to find his tongue. The acrobat ran a hand through his hair; a nervous habit. His leg bounced up and down rapidly in his distress. Speaking about their emotions was never a strong suite in their 'family'. Really, it was only moments like this, where they can't hold it back anymore and just explode, that they get anything resolved. Dick let out a heavy sigh and stared at his hands as he started to speak.

"Shouldn't we be talking about you? You're the one that came back from the dead. My issues aren't as pressing."

Jason didn't know whether to be amused or irritated at Dick's very transparent attempt at a changing the conversation. He let out a scoff and an exaggerated roll of the eyes.

"Please, I've had years to think about it. Whatever you've got going on is fucking you up and you're the one with a kid to take care of. We can focus on my mountain of issues later."

His effort to water down his own trauma was just as obvious as Dick's poor change of subject. For his attempts, he got a slight glare but there was no real heat behind it. Then, Dick dropped his gaze and his shoulders sagged.

"Alright, yeah, you're right. Jaye's more important than, well, everything. Guess I gotta suck it up, huh?"

It was a solid, but ultimately futile, attempt to lighten the mood. Jason doubted even God himself could achieve that at this point. Still, he flashed Dick a crooked grin to let him know he caught the effort. But in the returning silence, the smiles fell back to frowns and tremors returned to once calmed hands.

"I'm only gonna...I just..I don't want to get into it all. Not right now. I can explain some. The worst. But just not all. Okay?"

Despite the fact that he knew bottling it all up would only make it worse, Jason nodded. Really, he felt for Dick. Telling others the fucked up shit that hurt you was never easy. He hated it. It was partially why he suggested talking about Dick's problems instead. Cowardly? Yes, but he didn't care. He just wasn't ready. What he shared was already too much and, still, not enough. He remained silent to allow Dick time to put his thoughts into words and get them out. This was always the worst part for them. It took time and patience; things Jason was surprised but grateful he had right now.

"Blockbuster, you heard of him?"

The name rang a few bells. He was a major crime lord working in 'Haven. At least, up until his death. Jason heard more than a few tales about that freak. Tall, ugly, and could twist someone's head around in a full one-eighty. There had been ridiculous rumors that Nightwing shot him. Those rumors made Jason laugh out loud when he heard them. What idiots. At his affirmative nod, Dick continued on.

"He was mad at me for screwing with his business. For...for his mother's death. Real mad. He found out who I was. Found out I was Dick Grayson."

That was not good. At all. He was only a few sentences in, and Jason already knew this was going to get very, very ugly. It caused an uneasy feeling to curl up inside him.

"To get back at me, prove I was powerless, to punish me, he went after everyone I knew. He blew up my apartment building. Shot a reporter, Maxine Michaels, just because she was talking to me. He wanted to kill everyone I came in contact with. Any clerk who rings me up. Any kid who smiles at me. All because he could. Because it'd hurt me. He was going to kill them all because of me."

Dick was shaking harder now with the memories. Hearing it made Jason feel sick. This, this is why Bruce's way could never work. Look what happened when a criminal of Blockbuster's caliber was left alive. Innocent people died and innocent people suffered. No matter how right he was, his feelings just couldn't match it. Not right now. There was no smugness to be felt while Dick looked so close to completely coming apart. Jesus, to think he actually wanted this at one point. That made him sound like Blockbuster and the thought absolutely ripped at him. He wanted to make Dick suffer just like that monster had. It made him want to vomit. Any rebuke against Dick's self-blaming he had was cut silent as Dick continued speaking.

"He...he had Haly's burnt down around me. God, Jason, he burned it all down! There were so many people. I tried to save them all. I couldn't. I couldn't. It was all I had left. That was all I had left of my family and he took it from me!"

The air seemed to get caught in his lungs at those words. He couldn't imagine the toll that sort of personal attack took on the man. Jason's own mother betrayed him to the Joker and that left it's own special brand of trauma on him. But to have what little actually good memories of his family he had left torched around him? Fuck. Blockbuster was beyond lucky he was dead at this point because Jason was really not feeling charitable. What he would have done to that thing would have been downright sadistic. The shaking in his hands was for an entirely different reason this time. Dick must not have noticed the stiffening of his posture or the way his eyes seemed greener than they were just moments before because he continued spilling that which he had kept pent up for so long.

"-Tarantula appeared. I shouldn't have let her. But his words just kept ringing in my head. All those people. He wouldn't stop. Not ever. I..I let her shoot him. I let him die. How could I do that? His blood is on my hands. His blood and all the others. I told her no. She just told me to be quiet. I said no."

At this point, Dick's breathing had really picked up. There was a look in his eyes. Jason recognized it. He was caught in the past, reliving the events that hurt him so. Jason moved to try and bring him back to reality. Nobody should be caught in that sort of personal hell. Well, maybe some deserved it, but not Dick, no matter what he thought. However, as soon as his hand came close to contact, Dick all but froze. He even stopped breathing. A look of near-terror took over his face. Jason immediately yanked back his hand and mirrored Dick's expression. The trembling evolved into full-blown shakes for the panic-stricken hero. He was hyperventilating now.

Fuck, fuck. What was he supposed to do about this? Jason skimmed over the implication of Dick's sudden panic attack. He really couldn't afford to go down that path right now. No doubt, he'd absolutely lose it to the haze. Right now, he had to focus on calming Dick down. That was going to be a feat when he could hardly keep himself calm. When he spoke, his voice was just loud enough to get through to Dick without being overbearing. He kept his distance from the shaking man.

"Dick, listen to me. You need to breathe. Come on, do the count. Three in, four hold, five out. It's only me here."

He could see Dick try to maintain the meditative technique. Jason repeated the mantra over and over until it seemed like his brother was coming back to himself. Then, Dick blinked away the tears before he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the heel of his palms to his eyes. He seemed to close in on himself.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm over here crying about my problems and you died."

The strangled laugh that came from his throat was almost hysteric. Jason frowned before he edged closer. He looked for cues to see if the advance was unwanted, but Dick seemed fine now. Well, 'fine', given the situation. This time, it was his turn to wrap his brother in a hug. Dick clung to him like a lifeline. How did it come to this? Jason closed his eyes and willed away the venomous green. Later. He can worry about this later. One thing was for certain, though. He was, without a doubt, paying a certain spider a long overdue visit after he leaves.

"Dick, our suffering isn't a competition. We've both been hurt. Bad. The best we can do is help each other. If we make it a contest of who deserves to cry or heal, neither of us will ever get better."

Saying it felt good, he'd admit it. Before coming to 'Haven, Jason was so hellbent on retribution and easing his own suffering that he didn't even think about what pain the others may have gone through. He wouldn't think about Bruce right now. That was a box of vipers he needed to tame on his own. Dick let out another choked laugh, but it was certainly more sane than the last one.

"Jeez, Jay, when did you get so wise?"

At that, he let out his own little chuckle. The haze still lingered like an ill-omen in the back of his mind. For the moment, however, he'd be okay. They'd be okay.

"Hey, last I checked, I was the bookworm here. I've always been wise. I've just been hiding it. No need for you to get jealous, now."

The trembling of Dick's shoulders seemed to stem more heavily from his amusement than his sadness this time. Jason would count that as a win in his book. There was still slight hitching in their breaths and the awkwardness might set in soon. The pain was still there. Their shaking hadn't fully subsided just yet. But for now, things were...better. Jason would take that.

"Yeah, I almost forgot you were a nerd. Thanks for reminding me, Little Wing."

Jason gave a snort and a playful nudge but didn't move from his position.

"Anytime, Big Bird."

-sad party horn noises- tada. Anyway, Jason will definitely be paying Tarantula a visit. I have so much salt about that ENTIRE thing and how it was handled. Lord help Mirage if ever finds out about her raping Dick too and how he got victim-blamed/slut-shamed for it. And how Bruce didn’t tell him about Jay. (that will also be more thoroughly gone through) My poor baby, someone needs to fucking help him. DC, you suck.

This was going to be more in depth and feely but this was reaaally dragging on and I figured I could continue on to the next part. After all, they can't solve all their problems in one night, that's just not gonna happen. -bangs fists on table- MORE BONDING MORE BONDING (also more Papa Dick and Tío Jay)

Yeah, Dick was acting weird here, but that's because he's really reeling from recent events. The baby being dropped on him unexpectedly didn't help that. He’s really teetering on the edge here. Jason also could have gotten out of those holds if he really tried but 1) he was borderline panicking and 2) he was also getting increasingly worried about Dick's mental state. No matter how much of a tough guy Jay acts, he's a fucking sap.

And Jason referencing to how they first met really did happen in-comic. Along with the Robin suit, that's when Dick gave Jason his number and is like 'Bro, call me whenever u want.' (im paraphrasing but w/e) There's such untapped potential between the two for bonding. I just want to shake DC.

[dickie-gayson]

Mori Shej - Penance

CHAPTER ONE - THE CALL

Summary: It felt as if nothing he could possibly say would even begin to make up for his words, his cold shoulder. Sure, he wasn't the only person to turn his back on Roy during his fight with addiction, but that didn't mean they could share the blame. 

Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Roy Harper (Mentioned)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Length: 2k+

Other: Dad!Dick, part of the Mori Shej Verse, Addiction Mention

Find It On: Ao3 Fanfiction

The worst part is looking back and knowing that I was wrong Help me find the right way up or let me take the wrong way down  Will you straighten me out or make me take the long way around I took the low road in, I’ll take the high road out

 Something had been eating at Dick for quite some time, but no more than it was now. He'd look at Jaye and he couldn't help but think of another dark-haired little girl with a criminal for a mother. How long had it been since he last saw Lian? Roy? After everything that's happened, all those thoughts of just...just ending it, he realized one of his biggest regrets would be leaving that particular bridge burned. The guilt tore at him for how he treated the one he once called a brother in his hour of need. Dick knew he needed to make amends but how? How does one even look into the eyes of someone they hurt so deeply and even apologize? Even now, Dick felt the burn of shame coursing through him as he looked at the cellphone sitting on the counter. It felt as if nothing he could possibly say would even begin to make up for his words, his cold shoulder. Sure, he wasn't the only person to turn his back on Roy during his fight with addiction, but that didn't mean they could share the blame.

For days now, he thought about calling Roy and spilling everything, but he'd always choke when he grabbed the phone. God, what he'd give to have those days back when he was on a team with Roy and they could laugh about nearly everything. Roy, Wally, Garth, and Donna had been his best friends. Sure, they weren't easy times, not by any stretch of the imagination, but damn if they weren't good. Now? Now he spoke to Wally every now and again. Garth was all but out of his life at this point. Hell, he only spoke to Donna as much as he did now because Jason had called her when he was injured. She made sure to stick closer once she found out about Jaye. The heartbreak in her eyes when he woke up from his injuries was painful. But Roy was the worst. He hasn't spoken to the man in years, not that Dick could blame him.

At first, it had been mutual. Dick was young and full of self-righteous indignation over his friend's heroin addiction. Rather than lending a hand, as any good friend would, he left. With time, he realized just how horribly he had handled it. How could he call himself a hero or a friend when that's how he reacted? It was like Bruce's voice had been echoing in his mind over and over and over. Growing under the tutelage of the Bat gave Dick some very black-and-white perspectives of drugs and those that used them. But nothing was ever truly black and white, was it? He could remember busting human trafficking rings where people had been forcefully given drugs to make them dependent and easier to control. How was Roy any different? He didn't ask for the injection the first time. God, and Dick acted like it was his fault? There was nothing - nothing - Dick could say or do that would justify that.

But that's just it, isn't it? It's not about justifying his actions. He was wrong. It was about admitting it, owning up to his mistakes, and trying to make amends. He couldn't change what he said or did, but he could try and...and what? Make it better? Who was he kidding? Roy deserved better, always had. The odds of him wanting to even hear from Dick were slim to none. Still, doing nothing about it was just as bad. He had to at least try, right? Try and let Roy know that...that he was sorry. Fuck, he was so sorry. Even if Roy cursed him all the way to Hell and back, shut him out for good, he had to at least try.

Thinking it, however, was so much easier than actually doing it. Claiming his mistakes was harder than he'd care to admit. And here he thought any and all of his pride had been washed away with the rain on that rooftop. He sat at on his couch and stared at the phone as if it'd bite him should he try to grab it. Dick was so focused on trying to get up the courage to call Roy, he didn't even notice Jason creep in through the window, per usual.

His brother stood and watched him for a bit, somewhat concerned that Dick was falling back into one of his 'episodes'. He thought Jason didn't notice how he'd stare off sometimes and get lost in the pain of his own memories and torments. It was sad to see that look in his eyes. Sad and fucking terrifying. It was a look he saw before, out on the streets. The look of someone who was debating if life was more painful than death. If they should just take those extra pills or make that next cut a little too deep. Sometimes, Jason was worried he'd come into his apartment one day and find Dick dead. How could he tell Dick that no, death wasn't a release? He'd been there and done that. In his personal opinion, it was nothing to write home about. With a forced leisurely pace, he dropped onto the armchair and startled Dick out of his trance. Ordinarily, that'd be a personal achievement, but it was just another note of worry right now.

"That phone talk shit or something? You're staring like it offended you."

Dick just gave a soft huff that could be taken for amusement, but it seemed about as forced as Jason's ease.

"Yeah, something like that."

That got Jason to lean a little closer. Something was definitely wrong with Dick.

"Bad phone call?"

Personally, he was really hoping it hadn't been Bruce or that bitch. He's already found letters from her trying to get to him. Dick was quiet for a stretch longer, which didn't exactly put Jason's fears to rest. Then, he shook his head slowly and there was that look again.

"No, not yet."

That...was not exactly reassuring and entirely too vague for his liking.

"Well, someone's being cryptic today. You been hangin' around Xanadu's lately?"

The joke fell on deaf ears as Dick just continued to stare at the phone with the look of a man on death row. It was really starting to freak Jason out. Before he could ask just what was wrong, Dick spoke up.

"I need to call Roy."

That wasn't what Jason had been expecting, in all honesty. Roy Harper, that's a name he hasn't thought of in quite some time. Jason had a long, long shitlist and Roy managed to land himself on it back during his short tenure as Robin. The Titans hadn't been the most welcoming crew when they were introduced to the newest Boy Wonder. They treated Jason as if he were trying to replace Dick and they made sure to let it be known that they didn't want a new Robin. Not all had been mean, but Roy hadn't exactly been accepting. It was hurtful to the teenager and Harper still left a bad taste in his mouth when he thought back on it. A little of his irritation for the red head leaked into his voice.

"Why?"

Dick finally tore his eyes from the phone and looked at Jason questioningly. So he managed to pick up on his distaste but not his entrance into the apartment? Something about the archer sure was fucking with him.

"I messed up. Bad. I need to...to apologize."

That was a bit of a surprise. Bats and apologies went together about as well as they did with healthy coping mechanisms and happy families. What in the hell did he do to Roy to have him this bent out of shape? Jason hadn't cared to keep tabs on Harper, or any of the Arrows, really, after his resurrection. Jason made a motion for him to keep going. Dick looked a bit more tormented as he floundered for words. Shit, must be bad.

"I...I abandoned him when he needed me. Fuck, nearly all of us did. He...these guys got him years ago. Got him addicted to heroin and we all just...we treated him like shit for it. Left him to deal with it by himself. I acted like it was his choice. How the hell do I apologize for that?"

At this point, Dick had his head in his hands and it was clear it was tearing him up. Jason was kind of glad it was. He was a first-hand witness to the horrors of addiction. His own mother OD'ed when he was just a kid. Finding her body still haunted him. Much as he might hate the way Harper treated him, he felt for him. To the outside world, heroes were immune to being assholes. But Jason knew otherwise. Knew how hypocritical they were. It disgusted him so deeply.

"Apologize? There is no apologizing for that. How the fuck did you guys even think that was okay? You know what, I don't even want to know. Heroes and hypocrisy go hand-in-hand, it seems. But, I guess doing something is better than doing nothing. Pick up the phone, let him know you want to talk and pray he doesn't kick your ass to the curb."

Dick didn't look any better, not that Jason was aiming for a pep talk. He was just a tad too irritated to be nice. Personally, he wanted to go deeper with his admonishments, but he was already kind of afraid Dick was going to throw himself off a building without a line to catch him as is. There were definitely others to bitch at, though; namely a mister Oliver Queen. Last Jason knew, that was supposed to be Roy's adoptive father. Surprise, another father figure who didn't add up. Huh, looks like they had more in common than he originally thought, not that he planned on inviting Roy over for beers anytime soon.

Making up his mind, Dick snatched the phone and started to pace as he dialed the number given to him by Oracle. Asking her for anything was still beyond painful, but it was unavoidable. She had become the eyes and ears of the hero community. The tension was still strong between the two. Before he could fall down that particular rabbit hole, he hit dial and listened to the ringing with growing uncertainty. Did Roy know it was Dick calling? Did Babs give him a heads up? Was he ignoring the call on purpose? Should he try again? Should he just hang up? Before he could make a decision, Roy's voice filled his ear, nearly giving him a heart attack.

"This is Roy Harper. Sorry I couldn't make it to the phone. Leave a message at the beep."

The beep came sooner than Dick was ready for. He still didn't know quite what to say.

"Hey Roy, this is Dick. Long time, no talk. I uh...I just wanted to see if maybe we could talk. If not, that's cool. I understand. I'm...I want to apologize...Anyway, if you do, this is my number. Bye."

He hung up the phone and realized his hands were shaking like a leaf. It was short and he didn't even talk to Roy, but it still made him feel like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. When did he become such a wreck? Talking was his forte. Everyone would comment on how he was a chatterbox, how he knew what to say and when to say it, how charismatic he was. Now he felt like holding a conversation with anyone was a monumental effort. Everything felt like an effort anymore.

Dick put the phone down as if it were red hot and ran a shaky hand through his hair. Then, he turned on his heel and went to Jaye's room. He found himself doing this anytime things got to be too much. He'd go to his daughter and just talk to her. Even when she was screaming or had a cold or when he was running on fumes, she still managed to calm him. She reminded him why he got up every single day. Was this how it was for Roy? Did Lian keep him going? Was she what kept his head above water? Dick hoped so, because he couldn't imagine how much worse it'd be if he didn't have Jaye, or Jason, to keep him steady. Fuck, he needed to fix things. If they could be fixed.

Jaye was fast asleep, unaware that her father decided to sit on the floor next to her crib. Dick rested his head against the wooden bars and just watched her.

"Daddy might have someone for you to meet, Jaye. If...if he wants to. You'd like him, he's funny. And he has a daughter too. You two could play together. That'd be fun, right?"

His voice bordered on desperate and fell flat of hopeful. Once more he was grateful that she wouldn't be able to pick up on how pathetic her father was. He dreaded the day she realized it. Dick closed his eyes and thought back on 'the good old days'. Shit, when did he get to this point? He wasn't even that old, for christ's sake! Sure felt like he was, though. His bones ached on bad days from constant abuse, getting out of bed was more and more difficult, the prospect of tomorrow was colder than he'd like, and he's seen more in ten years than most see in three lifetimes. Hell, he's been outliving his friends and family. That, in particular, killed him. These good people were dying while he was still here. Where was the fairness? He didn't deserve to keep going while they lay in the dirt. What did he do but ruin? Fail? He was...he was poisonous.

Those invasive thoughts were knocking around his head again. It felt like he was drowning. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter until white spots danced around the darkness. Deep breath after deep breath, he tried to level himself.

Jason pretended he couldn't hear Dick's voice break over a few words as he made his way out of the apartment. This was a problem Jason's bludgeoning couldn't help fix, and, quite frankly, he didn't think he could handle any more emotions at this point. The reminder of his mother, and he considered Catherine more of a mother than Sheila ever was, was just too much for him right now. He had to get out.

[dickie-gayson]

Are you gong to continue the Mori Shej verse?

pt. 2 I really enjoyed it and I was wondering if you could. No pressure though if you don’t want to you obviously don’t have to. I’d just like to know. Thank you! 😀

Yep, I’m definitely continuing it! Sorry for the really mcfuckin long wait on the next update! I’ve been Dead and dealing irl shit (ughh) but I have about 5k. of the next chapter written up already (: I’m glad you’ve been enjoying it so far!! 

[dickie-gayson]

Mori Shej; The Plan

When Jason returned as the Red Hood, his plan was to hit Bruce where it’d hurt him the most. He made his way to Blüdhaven with one goal in mind. He was going to kill Bruce’s favorite son. His precious Golden Boy. Then, he’d deliver Dickie’s head to him and watch The Bat finally break.

But things don’t go as planned when he arrives at Dick’s apartment. They never go as planned when Dick’s involved.

Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson

Warning: Violence

Pairing: None

Genre: Angst?

Words: 5,009 (jfc it was only supposed to be like 1k. I swear)

Other Parts: two

Also: I take prompts/requests 

Notes: This has been bouncing around my head for a bit. First fic for this particular fandom.

Takes place Post-War Games. Rather than head straight for Gotham, Jason went to Blüdhaven instead. Dick’s still in a bad state of mind as well because of, well, all that Blockbuster and Tarantula shit. He was starting to mend then ‘poof’ surprise. So neither of them are mentally or emotionally stable here (lbr are they ever?). More notes at the bottom to avoid spoilers.

Daylight crept upon the streets of Blüdhaven. The sun’s rays fought to pierce the ever-lingering smog that seemed to suffocate the city. It was never more apparent than in these waking hours just how filthy it truly was. It seemed to overflow with crime and violence just as it’s sister city, Gotham, did. Only, Blüdhaven lacked the charm of costumed crazies and the apathetic affluent. The city was unrepentant in its degeneracy. Jason hated this place. It reminded him too much of Gotham and yet, not enough. It was filthy and crime-ridden but even Gotham had it’s good side.  This place was a festering wound. It leeched away at all its residents until there was nothing but shells left. Only the depraved could take up residence and really thrive. There was corruption within corruption. From what he’d gathered, Blüdhaven had no Jim Gordon on its side. At least, it hadn’t until good old Dick Grayson joined the force to clean the place up. Jason had to grudgingly admit, he did a pretty good job of shaking up the police and forcing out the rats. It was somewhat surprising that Dick wasn’t the only one left. Still, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Not with The Bat’s method. Just thinking about him made Jason’s stomach curdle. A white-hot fury burned in his veins. He had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself as he hopped onto the rusted fire escape. Jason could feel the venom green haze creeping at the edges of his mind, waiting for him to lose control. That couldn’t happen. He needed to keep his head for what’s to come. As much as he hated to admit it, he still wasn’t completely certain he could win a fight against Dick if he was out of his mind. Sure, he wasn’t planning on a fight, but giving in to the whims of the Pit could end this before it really began. Stealth and tactics seemed to go right out the window once his sight turned green. He also wants to remember this. He wants to remember the fear in the Golden Boy’s eyes when he realizes his time has come. Jason doesn’t expect him to beg. Dick’s much too stubborn and proud to do it. Still, it doesn’t stop him from imagining it in great detail. It gave him a sick sort of satisfaction to imagine the pleas falling from Dick’s lips. He’ll show the rest of them just how wrong they are. And Jason cannot wait to see dearest dad’s expression when he delivers his favorite child’s head to him in a duffel bag. He eyed the closed window carefully. This could get tricky, knowing how paranoid the Bats are. Still, he’s confident in his abilities and relatively certain he can get past any tricks Dick has set up. The readout coming from his scan only confirmed his suspicions. He took his time disabling the alarms and traps. It wouldn’t do for him to rush and trip up even if he’s working against the clock. Jason painstakingly tailed the older vigilante for some time in order to really memorize his routine. It’s why he waited until the sun began rising to set his plan into motion. Right now, Dickie should be sleeping. In just a few hours, he’ll be getting up and ready for his shift at the station. When Jason learned that Dick took a job as a police officer, and in Blüdhaven of all places, he laughed. Of course, the golden boy couldn’t stand to be just a vigilante. No, he had to be a cop as well. It was so damned fitting. He had to be the hero 24-7, didn’t he? Honestly, Jason was half-tempted to watch everything fall apart for him. It was only a matter of time until the fire he was playing with burned him. Not every cop was incompetent, after all. But no, Jason had waited long enough for this moment. Once everything was disarmed, he slid the window open just enough to get in and out quickly. He looked over the small apartment with only the faintest of interest. It was about as messy as he expected from the man and only a bit less gaudy. Dick was always a train wreck when it came to fashion of any form. There were dirty dishes in the sink, clothes on the back of the sofa, and papers scattered across the counters and table. He rolled his eyes at the state of the place before creeping quietly toward the bedroom. The closer he got, the faster his heart raced and the more his gut roiled. It was almost time. After years of training and waiting, he was finally going to start getting his retribution against those that failed him. He almost felt sick with anticipation. But a sound stopped him dead in his tracks just outside the door. He could hear something. Something he shouldn’t be hearing at this time. It was unmistakably Dick’s voice. It was hard to hear with the door closed, but Jason could most certainly hear him. It almost sounded like he was….singing? Jason was at a momentary loss. This wasn’t part of the plan. All his surveillance had led to Dick sleeping at this time not….doing whatever it was he was doing. From the way he continued on softly, Jason was sure Dick was unaware of his presence. So, he could either leave and try again some other time, or go in and test his luck. After all, Jason was fully equipped with his armor and weapons and Dick might be in nothing but his sleepwear. The odds seemed to be in his favor and he had faith in his skills. It still couldn’t keep the slight pang of worry from creeping up inside him. The last time he had seen Dick, Jason was still Robin and Dick was still leagues ahead of him in training and skill. Those memories lingered in the back of his mind, poking holes in his confidence. It angered him. He hated that he still felt inferior to the goddamn original Boy Wonder. No matter how many years have passed, he still felt second rate. Hell, death itself didn’t seem to take that from him when it took everything else and it pissed him off. He had the same training as Bruce did within the league and then some. He could take Dick. He could. Jason breathed heavily under his helmet as he tried to quell the slight tremor in his hands. The anger was rearing its head again. Still, he could hear that stupid fucking singing. God, he just wanted Dick to shut up. “Móri drágo piko séj. Áj mori séj, mori drago pikonyéj” With the rage coiling in his gut like a viper, he kicked the door open and swung his pistol around to aim straight at the surprised man. The utter shock on his face would have done wonders for Jason’s mood if it hadn’t been for one very important thing. There was a baby cradled in Dick’s arms. That….was not at all what he expected. It set Jason up with some interesting and very frustrating roadblocks. First and foremost, why in the ever-loving fuck did Dick have a baby with him? Second, what was he going to do now? Jason couldn’t shoot the idiot. Not with the infant in his arms. Jesus, was that Dick’s kid? He didn’t have a kid a week ago! Of course, of course, Dick would find some way to fuck this up for Jason in the one week he was away getting supplies. Teal eyes kept flicking between the baby and his target. Dick was no longer shocked, but stone-faced. There was a dangerous look in his eyes. It was so out of place on the man. Shit, it almost looked like Dick was going to kill him the second he had the chance. It almost made Jason giddy to see the golden boy look so ready to break the sacred rule, and because of him, no less. Though, that still left him with what the fuck to do. For all his planning and backup planning, he never once thought to come up with a solution for the off-chance that Dick would have a kid with him. If there was one thing Jason would never, ever do, it’s hurt a child. This whole situation was royally fucked. Life was really finding creative ways to screw him over. While Jason was trying to figure out his next move, Dick was eyeing him up coolly.

“What do you want?” Jason almost startled at the sudden question. He was just so distracted by the baby and what it meant. Right to the point, then. Dragging his gaze from the baby, he couldn’t help but smirk under his helmet. Dick was panicking, he could tell. To anyone else, the man would seem entirely composed, but Jason knew better. Could tell by the tick in his jaw and the way his eyes jumped from Jason’s mask to the gun and back to the mask. He never drew his attention away from the younger man. Jason let out a low hum, as if contemplating his answer. Really, he just came here to kill Dick and go but this put a wrench in those plans. “I want a lot of things. Your head on a fucking platter, for one. But, we’ll start off easy. Who’s the kid?” From the way Dick’s eyes narrowed, Jason was certain it was his. He figured as much. The baby was just a few shades darker than Dick’s tan skin with a head of curly black hair. Whether or not the infant had the same shockingly blue eyes as him was still up in the air. At the silent confirmation, Jason let out a low, sardonic chuckle. “Why am I not surprised. Who’s the unlucky mother? Doesn’t look like an alien. Wait, don’t tell me. You knocked up Batgirl, didn’t you? I bet Jim was ready to shoot you.” He gave a wolfish grin under his helmet out of habit even though it remained unseen. Jason was actually kind of curious as to who the mother was. He knew Dickie didn’t get around like everyone thought he did, but that still left a couple people in the running. From his reaction, however, Jason was guessing he was wrong. How interesting. Dick looked both startled and angry but still he remained silent. “Aww, hit a sore spot? Bet Daddy Bats was pissed when he found out. Then again, you never could do wrong in his eyes.” The words came out more bitter than Jason would have liked. Even with the voice modifier, some of that contempt leaked through. Luckily, Dick seemed more distracted about the Bat comment than anything. Jason could almost see the panic rising in him. He did well in hiding it, though, which was no surprise. You couldn’t call yourself a real bat if you weren’t able to look emotionally dead at the drop of a hat. When Dick spoke, his voice was harsh with barely contained ire. “Look, I don’t know who you think I am but-’ Jason cut him off right there. "Let’s skip this whole bit right here and get to the fun part. I know everything. You’re Nightwing. The big bad Bat is Bruce Wayne. Barbara Gordon is Batgirl, sorry, Oracle. Little Timmy-’ He spat the name out like it was rancid. ‘is R-robin.” Jason stuttered over the word, having caught himself before he called the brat Replacement. No need to give any more clues just yet. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared, seeing as he planned on killing Dick, but he was starting to think he might have to revise that plan. As much as he hated Dick, he didn’t hate the kid. Damn it, this got more complicated than he would have liked. For his part, Dick looked something akin to a deer in headlights. At least, as much as anyone in the Batfamily ever did when caught off-guard. “How…Who are you?” Another low, rasping chuckle. “Million dollar question, ain’t it? But I asked you something first, Dickie. Quid pro quo. Put the baby down and answer the question.” He gave a cocky little tilt of the head to indicate that he had no intention of answering unless Dick complied with his demands. The man in question clenched his jaw. Jason watched as he moved slowly toward the bassinet. His eyes didn’t leave Jason’s figure until he had to place the baby down. He pretended not to hear the faint 'daddy loves you’ coming from Dick. Afterward, he turned back toward Jason, body tensed and ready for a fight though clearly not ready to initiate it with the baby so close. It was obvious that he didn’t want to reveal anything about the child. “Come on, you’re happy to run your mouth any other time. You tell me now, or I find out from the database later. Maybe drop by Mama Bird for a chat. Your choice.” The ultimatum really didn’t leave much of a choice at all for the vigilante. Jason knew he wouldn’t risk another person’s safety. The frustration and sheer pain of Dick’s internal struggle was fantastic. He drank in the sight greedily. The older man looked ready to fall apart. It was so gratifying. But something felt…off. Jason didn’t expect him to crack so soon. Maybe it was because he was a new father? He was pulled from his musing when Dick gave a heavy, soul-torn sigh. “I…She..” He could see Dick swallow thickly. It sounded like it was physically painful for him to say this. It wouldn’t surprise Jason if it was. He was giving up his own daughter’s information to a gun-wielding ‘stranger’, after all. “Jaye.” Jason felt his heart simultaneously jump to his throat and drop to his stomach. No. He couldn’t know. There’s no way Dick would know it’s him. Would he? “What?” He could pretend he didn’t hear the surprise and fear in his own voice. The tremor in his hand was a little harder to ignore. Thankfully, Dick now had his eyes downcast and missed the slight shaking of the pistol. “Her name. It’s Jaye.” From the genuine pain in his voice, one would think Jason had already shot Dick. At the realization that his identity was safe after all, he let out a breath of relief. Then, it hit him. Her name is Jaye. It couldn’t be a coincidence. No fucking way. A confusing bundle of emotions twisted themselves around Jason’s insides at the revelation. This isn’t what he came here for. This….this wasn’t supposed to make him hurt. This was supposed to make him feel better. He focused on the anger. That was familiar. That he could handle. With something close to a snarl, he jerked his head toward the door. “Out. Now.” Dick moved slowly, hands raised to show his submission, though his eyes remained steely. Jason closed the door behind him with his free hand as they maneuvered their way to the hallway. There was a tense moment of silence between the two before Jason made his move. The struggle was brief. All he needed to do was remind Dick of the little girl in the next room to stop his retaliation in its tracks. Jason slammed him against the wall. Plaster cracked and crumbled from the force. The sounds of the baby fussing from the sudden bang could be heard. He felt Dick’s breath hitch from the noise as he pressed a forearm against the man’s throat. The other hand kept the pistol pressed firmly against his temple. “Tell me, you got a bird fetish or something?” He phrased it as a sort of joke when all he wanted was to desperately be wrong. That little girl couldn’t be named after him. This was a sick cosmic joke or something. Jason determinedly ignored the little part in him that wanted the connection. Wanted to know he wasn’t completely forgotten and replaced. That part was shoved in the far, far reaches of his mind and locked away. He wouldn’t fall for that family shit again. They proved just how much they cared about him; A Good Soldier. What a fucking joke. And yet, there’s a baby in the next room with his name. What did that mean in all of this? It was hurting his head trying to decipher it all and his emotions were beginning to push against their constraints. Fuck, he felt like he was going to erupt. Dick didn’t look too far behind with the angry, defeated look in his eyes. “Thought you knew everything.” Jason could hear the sneer in his words even if his expression didn’t match. This was too much. It wasn’t supposed to play out like this. He tried to get a handle on the situation; on himself. The haze was back. It left an acrid taste in his mouth as he tried to keep his cool. This self-righteous prick. “Named her after the dead bird? Felt guilty when you named her, huh? What a fucking legacy to leave her with. Better hope she isn’t like that failure of a-’ His words were cut short when Dick rammed his knee right into his gut with brutal force. It knocked the air right out of Jason’s lungs. Shit, he forgot how hard Dick hit. He tried to catch his breath as Dick sent him into the wall with a fierce punch. Jesus fuck, how is his hand not broken? Dick was making ready to spring another attack when the sound of the gun cocking stopped him. He may be angry, but Dick wasn’t stupid. A bullet going off in the small hallway could be catastrophic. The walls were damn near paper thin. It would go right through. Jason wheezed once, twice, then swung the pistol around ruthlessly to crack Dick across the face. The older man crashed back into the wall before he crumbled to the floor. He remained unmoving for a good couple seconds, belying just how hard he was hit. Jason growled as he yanked the man up by his throat and slammed him once more against the thin wall. More plaster and drywall fell from the abuse. There was probably a hole at this point. Jason tightened his hand and drew out a choked sound from the man. He still looked at Jason with unrestrained hostility. "Try that again and baby bird’s gonna grow up without a father. Got it?” All he got in response was an angry glare but the lack of action was a clear enough affirmation that Dick wouldn’t be pulling that again. Already, the entire left side of Dick’s face was swelling up and discoloring. He suspected he may have fractured Goldie’s cheekbone. Before Jason could speak, Dick said something but the borderline-stranglehold he was in distorted the words. Jason loosened his grip only just enough for the man to talk. His voice was hoarse but understandable. “You’re wrong.” Jason let out a derisive snort. Wrong? He had a fucking gun to this moron’s head. He wasn’t wrong. “You really wanna test me on that?” This time, Jason was the one who received a look like he was the stupid one. It took all his willpower not to pull the trigger. “You’re wrong. He wasn’t a failure.” He said it with such conviction, Jason could almost believe he meant it. But no, that was just that stupid hero-complex Dick had going on. Robin died and Dick had to make a martyr of him, the asshole. Jason let out a sharp laugh at his words. “Went off and got killed by a fuckin’ clown. Sounds like a failure to me.” It looked like Dick was just barely keeping himself from lashing out again. He really did look a hairsbreadth away from completely losing it. It was hard to revel in that when Jason was barely keeping it together himself. “You didn’t know him, then! You’re wrong!” He was shouting now. That was an achievement to go over later when he had time to reflect on this fuckery. Jason leaned in real close. His helmet was just shy of pressing against Dick’s face. When he spoke, his voice was low and vicious. “You didn’t really know him either, did you? Too busy hiding from daddy to bother caring. But now it’s too late. So you push all that guilt onto the little kid, hoping to make up for it, huh? You think naming her after him is gonna put little Jason Todd’s soul to rest? How do you even know he’d want to be associated with anything that comes from you after the colossal fucking failure you’ve been?” That seemed to hit Dick even harder than Jason’s gun did. He almost looked like he was going to fall to pieces right then and there. His breathing came out sharp and short. If he kept that up, he’d start hyperventilating. It felt so fucking satisfying to see that. But it felt sickening too. The absolute shattered look on his face. The way his body shook like he was seismic. The faint ’I’m sorry’s being whispered to the ghost of a boy who wasn’t there. Goddammit, the Golden Boy coming undone should have been more gratifying than this. Why the fuck did it churn his stomach like this? Dick deserved this. He failed Jason. Left him alone and replaced him like he didn’t matter. He…he… He didn’t. The thought burned through him and set his nerves on fire. Jason had to fight back the sudden flood of emotions. He blinked hard and his breath rattled in his lungs. His throat suddenly felt so thick. Memories screamed at him from that darkened corner of his mind. The two of them camping in the Alps together. That picture taken on the snowy mountain by the campfire as the two laughed with Dick’s arm slung over his shoulders. And fuck, hadn’t that picture been on Dick’s dresser by the bassinet? Them two working on a mission together in Blüdhaven. Jason had been so fucking excited to work with Nightwing. And then, Dick had given Jason his number. Told him to call if he ever needed or wanted to talk or just to get away from Bruce. Jason had taken the number. Had he ever used it? Jason couldn’t remember. God, he had tried. Jason couldn’t tell if Dick was just shaking violently or if he was shaking too. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He should have just come back a different time. Did it earlier. Something. He can’t do it. He can’t go through with this. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. A strangled, almost pained noise came from Jason as he slammed his fist into the wall near Dick’s head. It passed clean through. Chunks of drywall fell as he tore his hand back out. The sudden sound startled the infant and she started to cry. That did nothing for Jason’s current mood. Though, it did seem to get through the weird haze her father was in. His attention immediately turned toward the hole. Though, the tight grip on his neck kept him from twisting his head fully to see in the room. “Shhh…it’s okay baby Jaye. Daddy’s here, it’s okay. Kináu tuke szomnákáj. Móri drágo piko séj...” His voice was hoarse and raw with pain. Jason ground his teeth together and tightened his grip. Dick coughed from the pressure. “Shut up.” Dick ignored him and kept his focus on the crying infant. He struggled to sing around the hand choking him and the fractured cheek. Still, he didn’t let it stop his efforts to calm his daughter. “…Lá lumáko szomnákáj. Móri drágo piko séj...” He couldn’t take this. The gun trembled in his grip. Jason squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to wrangle in his emotions. The haze made it feel like he was the one being strangled. God, was Dick still singing? “Shut. Up.” His hand moved from Dick’s throat as if on its own accord to try and cover the man’s mouth. Dick was having none of it as he twisted around, still trying to comfort the baby. Now free of the grip on his throat, he raised his voice. “…Áj mori séj, mori drago pikonyéj…” Jason’s heart was racing. He could almost hear the thumping in his ears. The green of the pit was closing in. He shook his head, as if he could dislodge the invasive thoughts. Hearing Dick still going, knowing he was the reason the baby was crying, the baby named after him, only increased the tempo in his brain. He let loose a sound like a wounded animal at the continuous onslaught and sensory overload. “I said SHUT UP!” He nailed Dick across the already injured side of his face in a frantic attempt to get him to be quiet. The hero was sent sprawling across the floor with a pained cry. Jason kicked the downed man over and over in his Lazarus-tinged frenzy. He just needed silence. Like a fog lifting, the haze rolled back and Jason realized there was no more singing. The baby continued to cry but the singing had stopped. His hands shook as he looked at Dick. The man was curled around himself as he gasped for air and blood leaked from his mouth. He looked on the brink of unconsciousness. No. No, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This…this wasn’t the plan. But…it was, wasn’t it? Kill Dick to get back at Bruce. Show them they’re wrong. Show them…Show them what? He couldn’t remember. All he remembers is that fucking song and the cold of the Alps, a warm arm and…and a phone number. A phone number. He could do that. He could. Baby blue Jaye doesn’t have to lose her dad. Not today. Not from him. Almost mechanically, he moved toward the bedroom. A hand caught his ankle. It was a weak grip overall, but impressive for his current state. “Stop…d-don’t…” His mouth moved but no words came out and his body shuddered with the strain. He was too injured to finish his plea but Jason knew what he was asking. It burned him so fucking bad. He pulled out of the grip and pushed open the door. Jason pretended he didn’t hear the stuttered pleas of the broken man he once looked up to. His eyes landed on a cell phone set on the nightstand. Without hesitation, he picked it up and unlocked it. Did Dick never change his passwords or what? He picked a contact that wouldn’t send him into another dangerous haze. It only rang for a moment before a feminine voice greeted him. “Hello?” Jason was silent, still struggling with himself, before he forced out an answer. “Dick’s injured. Send help. Fast.” He could hear Donna’s startled noise at his mechanized voice and his message. Her words were rushed and worried with a threatening edge to them. “Who is this? What happene-’ Jason didn’t give her a chance to finish her question as he ended the call and dropped the phone onto the bed. He breathed deeply for a moment to calm his nerves. Then, his attention was drawn to the wailing infant. Jason moved almost hesitantly to her. Standing over her, he realized just how tiny she is. Her face was red from screaming and tears streaked her cheeks. His heart clenched at the sight. He did this. Jason reached a hand out, wanting to comfort her but not knowing what to do. He’s usually so good with kids, but right now? Right now he doesn’t feel right being in the same room as her. Still, he couldn’t leave her screaming like this. After a brief search, he found her pacifier and gently gave it to her. She fussed for a moment, still rightfully upset. Jesus, she really did have his eyes. Those familiar bright baby blues stared up at his helmet with a mixture of curiosity and distress. "It’ll be okay. Uncle Jay’s sorry. I’m…I’m so sorry. Papá will be okay, baby bird.” She finally quieted down at his soft words. He was glad Dick couldn’t hear the wrecked tone of his voice. It felt like he was a cracked dam and the water just kept pushing and pushing. He didn’t know how much more he could take before it all came out. With a shuddering breath, he backed away from the little girl. His stomach heaved at the sight of Dick’s blood on the back of the pacifier and on the top of her clothes where his knuckles had brushed her. Jason tried to wipe it off and only managed to smear it. He let out a choked, broken sound before he turned and was all but ready to run back to the living room. Dick almost gave him a heart attack. Somehow, he had managed to drag himself to the room in an effort to protect his daughter. He was pale and shaking. Blood poured from his mouth and nose. His breathing appeared labored and shaky. Shit, did he puncture a lung? Cause internal bleeding? He couldn’t think about that right now. He had to go. He…he had to leave. Now. Donna would be here soon. Or someone else. Someone worse. Fuck, she might have called a speedster. Fuck fuck fuck. He had to escape. Jason ignored the urge to check the man as he fell back to the floor. The trail of blood to the room was ignored as he made his leave. His eyes burned as he blinked back tears. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t the plan. As he all but dove out the window, he managed to choke out one last thing to the baby in the next room. It was only a whisper, one she wouldn’t hear or even remember. But he needed to say it. “Tío Jay loves you, baby blue.”

Additional Notes: The song Dick’s singing is Mori Shej, Szábiná by Kalyi Jag. It’s a Romani lullaby. You’ll have to pry Romani Dick from my cold, dead fingers. Same with Latinx Jason.

Also, Jaye is the feminine form of Jay. I couldn’t pass it up. nicknames can include baby jay(e), blue jay, baby bird, and baby blue, mayhaps. Also posted on Ao3 and FF