#crossing fingers it's just horrible muscle soreness. and that i will thus be SO fucking buff in my hamstrings. after this heals.

[orcelito]

Love getting up and feeling like my legs r gonna fall off xoxoxoxoxo

[burnedbyshoto]

Bravado

part two to happiness

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warning: cussing. soulmate!au

word count: 4,060

a/n: here’s part one ~ part three 

✩✶��❇✩✶✩

bravado: (n) a bold manner or a show of boldness intended to impress or intimidate.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“Can we talk?”

You drove ahead ignoring the voice that seemed to be a constant nag in your life. Your eyes focused straight ahead as you gripped your case in your hands.

Cold. Unmoving. Stubborn.

You refused to give Todoroki your time of day as the both of you were called in for what would be the last time as Hero Work students.

“Y/n, come on,” His voice pleads slightly. It was a tone that you would never have expected to hear from Todoroki of all people, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to hear it from him. “You can’t ignore me forever you know.”

You’re fed up.

Turning on your heel, you glare at your soulmate who had been walking at your heels. His eyes widening as your eyes locked with him.

“I told you not to fucking talk to me.” You seethe lowly. Todoroki didn’t speak as you licked your lips, your mouth feeling dry. “You agreed that night not to talk to me. I am letting you and Yaomomo live the rest of your lives fucking happy together, and you’re telling me that you want to talk?” You shake your head in disbelief as a cold chuckle escapes your lips. “Should I make my name turn gold on your wrist and forever hold your name in black? Is that what you fucking want Todoroki?!”

Your tone becomes too hurt, your true emotions bubbling to the surface. “I get it I’m not Yaoyorozu Momo! I don’t have money, status, and I don’t fucking have your heart! Stop trying to make yourself feel less guilty because guess fucking what! If you feel guilty? If you feel sorry for me?!”

Your chest is flying in a horrible rhythm as Todoroki just stares at you. His voice fails him, but you’re not quite done yet. You step closer to him, your finger jabbing against his chest as your eyes squint, your voice an almost growl, “I don’t want you to fucking apologize! I want the guilt to eat you alive. I want you to drown in your thoughts like I drowned in mine.” Angry and bitter tears welled in your eyes, and yet they refused to fall. “I deserve so much better than some shitty soulmate the universe chose for me. I hope you’re happy.” You smile.

Your cheeks are stiff, your lips are too tight.

“Just forget I exist.”

Even though you were searching for happiness, you still didn’t have it.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Seven Months Later

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Morning routines were now a must for you.

First, you wake up and remove any ice packs and heat pads from any sore muscles. Second, you climb out of bed, your arms stretching well above your head as moans leave your mouth. Third, you removed the wristband that lay permanently on your left wrist at home. You walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind you as you turned on the light. Your eyes focusing on your reflection as you get ready for the day. Hair up, wash your face, brush your teeth, and use the restroom. You stepped back out as you grabbed a tube of foundation, and you looked down at your wrist.

Seven months after finding the person you were meant to be with, and the ink was still black. Except for Momo and whoever it was who had rejected her, it seemed that you and Todoroki were the only soulmates in the world to still have black ink after five months.

Seven months of routinely applying foundation onto your wrist. Forever obscuring the black letters that reminded you of your failed love. A promise to keep Todoroki happy.

The person that should have been yours but who decided that someone else was better.

Next, you changed into your hero outfit. Your costume fits perfectly, and the new addition of forearm guards helped to keep your secret hidden. Then, you stared at yourself in the mirror, a smile coming onto your face because you were happy. After seven months you were now a Pro-Hero who made people feel safe. You were happier now; happiness had somewhat found you after weeks of feeling broken.

Finally, you left.

Your bare feet hit the wood of the floor almost silently. Your body making it’s way over to your bed as you pressed a soft kiss to the still sleeping man.

“I’ll be back later tonight.” You whisper even though you don’t expect an answer.

Arms, however, wrap around you tightly. They yank you into the bed, and you squeal in surprise. Your protests are silenced as his body envelopes you, keeping you locked into place as chapped lips press softly against your temple.

“I don’t think I’m going to let you go,” He whispers to you. “I’m perfectly okay with you in my arms like this.”

“I have to go to work!” You laugh as you put on a weak attempt to squirm out of his arms.

“But I want to have you in my arms.”

“If I get in trouble, you’re so getting the blame for it!” You laugh as you look up at his smiling face.

Blond, bright, and sunny.

Kaminari’s bedhead made your heart squeeze a bit as you grinned at him.

“I just want my beautiful girlfriend to love me with all her heart before her soulmate steals her away from me any day!”

“And your soulmate?” You giggle as he presses a sweet and soft kiss against your lips.

“My soulmate is probably not in existence.” Kaminari sighs as his lips leave yours.

“Who says mine is!” You tease as you stroke your fingers through his tangled mess. “What if my soulmate doesn’t want me and I can stay with you?”

“You’re entirely too amazing to not have a soulmate, first of all. Second of all, whoever is your soulmate would be an actual idiot to deny someone like you.” Kaminari explains as his mouth grazes yours softy.

“What if I want to stay with you?”

“I’d probably piss my pants.”

“Gross.”

“You are too, but here I am loving you.” Kaminari chuckles as you roll your eyes. His mouth moving to press kisses against your face in a lovingly way.

“I love you, Denki, but I really need to go to work now.” You say against his peppering lips. “I just need to…” His lips press against your soft neck and your mind goes blank.

A small electrical shock shoots through your body. The sensation stirring you from your haze.

“I think it’s cute you’re so responsive and all, but you should get going.”

“You’re a fucking tease.” You pout but nonetheless roll out of bed.

You stare at your boyfriend, the lopsided grin on his face endearing as he stretches. Your eyes trail down his body. Staring at the muscles you wanted to ravish at this moment before he clicked his tongue.

“Down horny girl, go to work!” Kaminari smirks as he points at the door. “I’m going back to sleep!”

Your eyes roll as you walk away, finally leaving to work.

“Have a good day!” Kaminari shouts after you. “I love you, y/n!”

“I love you too, dumbass.”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

mina: hey, are you and kaminari coming to kiri’s bday dinner tonight?

you: we are! why?

mina: kami never confirmed, smh. okay! see you guys here then, everyones coming!

You stared at the word everyone, the word making you go numb.

While you held no more feelings towards your soulmate, you didn’t want to see him. You didn’t want to have to face him. After graduating, you had gone to Miruko to ask about when you two would no longer be working in junction with Endeavor.

Miruko had been all for it thankfully. She had thrown a strong guy pose as she exclaimed about you being tough enough to fight without help. Thus the working relationship with Endeavors agency had concluded.

Twisting your mouth you placed down your phone as you sighed softly. Your fingers sweat at the thought of not being able to avoid Todoroki. Could you really stand a full night of being amicable to a man you didn’t want to be pleasant to? The few days of school you had following the grand reveal had been hard, the two of you were entirely too strained and unfriendly with each other. You couldn’t act that way tonight, you knew that… but could you manage to do it?

A strong hand came slamming down on your shoulder, interrupting your spiraling thoughts as you whipped your head around.

“Are ya okay?” Miruko asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’re being weird and depressed. We need to head out soon though and I can’t have you on the field if you’re gonna be weird.”

You laugh softly as you rub your neck, your chest tight despite the easy-going smile on your face.

“I’ll be okay, I promise!” You say, patting her arm softly as if she was the one who wasn’t okay. “Just going to be meeting up with all of my old classmates tonight. It’ll be the first time since graduation night we’re all able to make it.”

“You’re gonna go see all those squirts?” Miruko laughed as she crossed her arms above her chest. “Well, as long as you still show up tomorrow on time I could care less.”

The resulting snort from your nose makes you groan, “You’re the worst.”

“Oh hush, you do better when I bully you anyway!”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“I don’t think we’ve ever been here before.” You whistle as you look at the house where Kirishima’s party was being held.

It was going to be the twenty of you at this celebration. Your eyes glanced back at Kaminari who was currently pulling into the driveway. His hand holding yours as you looked around. The house was extremely nice; too nice for someone who had just turned nineteen.

“It’s Yaomomo’s,” Kaminari spoke, responding to your internal thoughts as he glanced at you. His yellow eyes glowing with joy as you nodded your head. “We were here the other day for Iida’s birthday.”

You nodded your head in realization. You had missed Iida’s birthday dinner because you had been held up at work that night.

“Do you think everyone’s here yet?” You ask as you see the different cars parked in the entrance. “Are we really always the last ones to arrive?” You laugh as Kaminari parks the car.

“We could be the first ones to arrive, but you’re never ready to leave on time!” Kaminari teases you as you both climb out of the car. You held onto the birthday gift the two of you had bought for Kirishima.

“I’m never on time because you take forever getting out of the bathroom!” You complain as the both of you walk hand in hand to the front door. The doorbell chiming as Kaminari pressed it.

Anxiety shot through you again as you tensed in his hold. Kaminari pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, the contact gratifying as your eyes close. Every worry is temporarily forgotten. As the door opens, your eyes fall back open. Your grin returning to your face as it’s Mina who opens the door.

“You guys finally decided to show up!” Mina exclaims as she launches herself into your arms.

“Sorry Mina, y/n took forever as always!” Kaminari apologizes as he gives the pink hero a hug before walking into the house.

“Alright, so a lot has happened since we last saw each other,” Mina exclaimed with a dreamy look in her eyes.

“I know you’re engaged, Mina.” You laugh as the two of you enter the house.

“But you haven’t seen the ring in person yet!”

You talked with your best friend as you went around the house greeting and hugging everyone. Your nerves made your skin crawl, but you still hadn’t seen Todoroki.

Momo was the last person you saw, her smile kind and warm as she embraced you.

Momo is your friend, you repeated over and over again as the creation hero chatted with you about what was happening in her life. Your smile felt fake again as you nodded about all the good that she had been able to achieve so far. Three minutes into the conversation, it felt as if it were eight months before. When you weren’t bitter towards your friend. When you were hopeful for whoever your soulmate was. You knew that Momo had no idea that you were Todoroki’s soulmate, or at the very least, she was doing an extremely good job at hiding it.

Her left-hand trailed to scratch her cheek as you and Mina stood before her listening to her stories with awe. Then something caught your attention. A simple yet elegant band sitting on her ring finger.

“Y-You’re engaged.” You stammer unintentionally as you stare at her hand.

Momo’s eyes look almost confused before her eyes snap to the ring on her finger, a pink blush overcoming her. Mina’s mouth dropped as she began screaming, but you fell silent. It seems that they had noticed yet, and suddenly your entire class was surrounding the three of you. Several hands stretching to take a glimpse of the ring on her finger.

Your world spun as you stumbled back into Kaminari who held your shoulder. You watched as his jaw dropped in his joy for Momo. The love and excitement in everyone’s eyes were so obvious, and it was so evident you felt as if you were an intruder.

It felt ghastly, could that have been you?

You push away from the crowd, but they don’t seem to notice you walking away.

His name burns against your skin as you walk out of the house and sit onto the porch.

It’s cold, chilly and quiet, yet you feel hot as you attempt to still your beating heart.

You thought were happy.

You believed you had found happiness.

So why were you feeling like this?

You deserved someone who wanted you as you were.

You needed someone who wanted you. They shouldn’t care about the universe’s influence like how Todoroki chose Momo without being fated. Guiltily, stubbornly, and pathetically, you wanted to be needed like that.

Yet despite your dumb wallowing, no tears came to your eyes as you stare blankly at the cars.

“You okay?” A voice asks from behind you.

“Just… overwhelmed.” You admit as you look behind you to see Kaminari who looks very concerned.

“Why’s that?” He asks you, sitting down beside you. He puts an arm around you and you sigh as you lean your head against his shoulder.

“Pretty soon all the girls will be engaged and I won’t be.” You lie and sigh. “It’s just weird.”

It’s silent for a while as the two of you sit there, staring at the scenery before you. Neither one of you knowing what to say. Despite everything, you craved to tell Kaminari about Todoroki and Momo being faux soulmates. Something inside you wished for them to no longer be happy, but you knew that it was petty and childish of you to think so.

“This entire soulmate thing is bullshit though,” Kaminari whispers to you, pulling you from your thoughts. “Some universal being decides that a single person in our life is supposed to be the person meant for us? Based on what exactly? Am I supposed to believe that my soulmate when they’re eighteen is going to be the same person when they’re eighty? Will I love them that entire time? Would I love them? Or is it because this dumb thing told us so? Do we really fall in love with our soulmates organically? I believe some people fall in love with theirs because of the dumb tattoo, which makes knowing who your soulmate worthless.”

Your eyes flutter towards Kaminari as you grin softly. Your boyfriend really surprised you at times. “That’s very insightful of you, Denki. Where’d you steal it from?” you tease as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“It was on a t-shirt I found at Hot Topic.” Kaminari chuckled as he nuzzled his nose into your cheek. Your resulting giggles lightening the mood.

“I knew it.” You sigh as Kaminari presses a kiss to your lips.

It’s gentle, sweet, and soft.

Your eyes closed as his lips dance with yours, your heart fluttering as you press closer.

Kaminari cups your face, his head tilting against yours as your mouths share secrets with each other.

You pull away as soon as his tongue pokes against your lower lip, your eyes rolling as you laugh. “Easy there, horny boy.” You say as your fingers tangle into his hair. “We’re in public, and it’s not our place.”

“You think I won’t fuck you in front of all of them?”

Your face twists as you shove him, “I would never let you do that, nasty.”

Kaminari’s sweet laughter makes you grin as he pulls you back into a gentle embrace.

There you two sit, enjoying each other embrace as his hands take yours into his.

Everything’s calm, peaceful and serene.

Your fingers tracing against his palm as everything feels okay again.

That is until Kaminari suddenly tensed, and a bright white light overcame the two of you.

Kaminari trembled in your hold as your eyes widen, soft gasps escaping his mouth as he crumbled against you. Your eyes looked immediately at his left wrist and the weirdest sense of elation and nausea hit you.

There was a name.

It was just a name, and yet you found yourself peeling away from his touch and shifting away from him. Your right hand unconsciously rubbing your right wrist.

“Y-Y/n…” Kaminari whispers as his eyes look so at peace. “Was that—”

You nod your head, a small and happy smile on your face as you point at his left wrist before continuing to rub. “Who’s the lucky person?” You ask as Kaminari stares at the black ink.

“It doesn’t matter,” He says as he drops his hand. “I’m with you right now. What I said about soulmates doesn’t change just because I have one now.”

“It’s not going to hurt my feelings, you know?” You laugh as you nudge your maybe-ex-boyfriend. “I know you better than you think Denki! Even if you don’t agree with soulmates, you want yours.”

Kaminari stares at you, his eyes are obviously full of sorrow for you.

“Y/n…”

“Their name, dork.” You press as you smile broader. If there was anyone in this world who deserved a soulmate, it was Kaminari Denki.

His yellow eyes glance down towards his wrist, and he sighs, “Her name is Jia.”

Your eyebrows raise, “I don’t know a Jia.”

“I don’t either.” He pauses. “Should we try to find her?”

“Let’s wait for her to finish high school first,” you say. “If she’s Japanese at least.”

“I don’t know how to pronounce her last name…”

“Oh, an international soulmate!” You gasp, and your hands cutely press against your cheeks.

“I knew I was meant to—,” Kaminari paused as he stared at your wrists. Your hands dropped as you looked at your flesh as well, your eyes widening as the black ink shone through the foundation. “Was that—?”

“No,” you interrupt, hiding your hands behind you. You shove the sleeves of your shirt further down your hands. Kaminari’s eyes search your face, his finger pointing at you.

“That was your soulmate’s name…” Kaminari blinks as his eyebrows furrow. “You have a soulmate?! Why have you been lying?!”

Kaminari’s voice wasn’t angry; it’s confused. His eyes searching yours for answers, for a clue that you had left behind. But you feel your throat thick with emotion as you shake your head. The tears are back in your eyes, and yet they still won’t fall.

“It doesn’t matter.” You whisper.

“Of course it does!” Kaminari insists. “Is it Mineta? Because if it is, I will personally make sure he never does you dirty!”

“I-It’s not Mineta!” You laugh, your fingers raking through your hair. “You know he wouldn’t have been quiet about it if it had been me.”

“Okay, true, but come on!” Kaminari leans in close, his eyes glued on yours. “Who is it, y/n?”

“No one you know,” You lie.

“Come on, you wouldn’t be hiding if I didn’t know!”

His hand snatches yours and you’re helpless as he drags your wrist into his line of view.

“Todoroki Shouto!” Kaminari cooes as he glances at the name and looks at you, his eyebrows wiggling. “Wait, what?!” He just about screams.

“Denki!” you hiss as you cover his mouth. “Shut up!”

“What about me?” A voice asks from in front of you.

It’s then that you truly feel at a loss. Your body stiffens as Kaminari is mid-lick.

Todoroki stands a few strides from the entrance, his hands holding a present as he looks at the two of you. His face is almost emotionless. It’s neutral, yet curious, as to what’s happening.

“Nothing.” You say immediately as you drop your hand. Your eyes glaring at Kaminari as you wipe his slobber onto his jeans. “You clearly misheard Denki say ‘Moroki Koto’, he's a new idol.”

“I know what my name sounds like.” Todoroki remarks as he stares at you. You can’t read the emotions in his eyes, but you don’t like being stared at by him of all people.

“Can you please explain what’s going on?” Kaminari asks as his eyes shift between the two of you. “I thought Todoroki was soulmates with Yaomomo? You can have more than one soulmate? What the hell?”

“You only have one romantic soulmate.” You whisper as you refuse to tear your gaze away from Todoroki.

“Did the universe make a mistake?” he mumbles and you shove him as you stand up.

“It did,” you say, standing up and brushing off the wrinkles in your outfit. “Right, Todoroki?”

“Y/n, that’s not—”

“NO!” You yell. You glare at him, Todoroki’s eyes widening as he looks at you. “Don’t speak unless you’re agreeing with me.”

“We can’t act like adults here?” Todoroki’s eyes roll as he steps closer to you, his eyebrows furrowed, and frown set on his lips. “I really can’t speak to you ever again? Is that how it is?”

“I don’t want to hear anything coming out of you, to be frank,” you snark as Kaminari shoots to his feet. Kaminari's hands flail as he tries to run interference.

“What’s going on?!”

“Nothing!” Todoroki and you shout in unison.

“Seven months?” you say taking a step towards him. “That’s all it took?”

“I could say the same about you.” Todoroki snaps.

“Yet here I am without a ring,” you hiss as your upper lip curls. “You really went and proposed and had the fucking balls to try and confess everything to Denki right now?”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about!” Todoroki insists as the two of you face off. You’re so close that your noses almost brush. Despite how your heart longs for the man in front of you it's your anger that prevails.

“Is everything okay?” Momo’s voice asks.

Your head whips around for a second. You see not only the engaged woman who captured your soulmate’s heart before you had a fighting chance but everyone else. But you’re exhausted, and you’ve long given up.

You just wanted to be happy and in love, and you weren’t going to have that choice with him even with his name inked into your skin. You deserved happiness and you knew that.

It’s almost as if Todoroki is able to read your thoughts. His jaw drops to speak as you turn around, presenting his name on your wrist.

“On my birthday seven months ago, I found out that Todoroki Shouto was my soulmate. He rejected me, and now seven months later I’ve been adhering to what makes him happy. So while I do wish you, Momo, happiness and love with Todoroki, I can’t keep being unhappy for your two sakes.”

Everyone’s eyes shot over towards the engaged girl as you turn on your heel and walk away. The tears in your eyes finally drop, and yet they don’t bother you.

You’re uncaring about the shouts and clamors of the truth that was presented. Despite the guilt that bubbles in your throat because of the petty reveal you gave, you feel light.

For the first time since that night seven months ago you feel truly and completely happy.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Placebo

A sequel to Get Your Fix and Withdrawal

Special credit to @sherrybaby14 who requested the idea for the first part.

Warnings: non/dubcon sex, sex pollen, breeding kink, mentions of birth control.

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. 18+ only.

Note: Are you guys ready!? Thank you so so much for your patience with this this third part. Sometimes a certain type of psycho Steve needs some time, you know? I had to let him kind of feel this one out but I like how this third chapter turned out! Let me know what you think!

The day after, you heard that Steve was on yet another mission. You were thankful as you could still feel the effects of him on your body. Your ass was sore from him slamming against you, your thighs achy, and your pussy tender still. Even the simple act of walking reminded you of the scene in the lab. Sitting across from Bruce was worse; at the very table where the super soldier had fucked you, over and over. The stool added undue pressure to your pelvis and your hips radiated in discomfort.

A week and a half passed without disturbance. You had overheard Tony speaking with Steve on the phone in passing. Difficulties in the field had prolonged the mission. That had been three days ago. You hoped it would be another week at least. The lab was quiet and calm without the fear of an impromptu visit. You and Bruce worked smoothly through the day and Tony had even joined you to fine tune a new battery cell for his suit. It almost felt as if none of it had happened. You could even believe that it had all been a horrible dream.

After work, you caught the subway to your block and stopped by the convenience store for a candy bar and a few other snacks. All day you had been thinking of something sweet. You weren’t sure if it was a coping mechanism or another side effect of the pill. As you eluded memories and the urge to touch yourself, you turned more and more to candied delights. You’d go home, make up a quick dinner, then binge as you watched Netflix on the couch. If one thing hadn’t changed, it was the monotony of your home life.

You headed down the street towards your building; your sweets in your purse. A loud honk stuttered your step and you looked around, shrugging off the usual New York road rage. A dark blue car pulled up; your stomach dropped as you recognized it. You continued walking as you heard the window glide down. 

“Y/N,” Steve’s tone was taunting. When had he returned?

You ignored him and he kept his car at snail’s pace, following you. He leaned on the horn again and you stopped and spun to glare at him. “Go away!”

“I can do this all day,” He smirked, “So, get in or I’ll give us both a headache.”

“You are a headache,” You spat. You looked up and down the sidewalk as you sensed others watching. You could hear whispers; recognition of the man in the car. Steve waved to passerbys with his million dollar smile, dirty looks sent your way.

“You’re disturbing the peace, Y/N,” He remarked, “I was actually about to call Tony, you know? Ask him about the workplace regulations...whether it was acceptable for a lab assistant to be using her workspace for her personal, uh, indulgences.”

“Steve,” You stepped closer to his car, “You wouldn’t?”

“He might not believe me, but seeing is believing,” His arm was slung along his open window. “As far as tower security know, you were sat in your lab at your microscope like a good girl, but I’ve got a little gem which would prove otherwise.” He reached over and flicked his finger over his phone screen and held it out to you. A peripheral from the corner showed Steve and you on the laboratory table, his ass bouncing as he fucked you.

You covered the phone before anyone walking by could see and hissed, “Put it away!”

“A slap on the wrist for me. I’m an avenger, you can’t really replace me,” He preened, “But I suspect there’s a vast pool of techs waiting to get into Stark’s lab.” Your chest rose in anger as he retracted his phone and tossed it back in his console. “So, are you getting in?”

You walked around his car silently, arms swinging in your anger. You opened his door and dropped inside with a scowl. “Delete it,” You snarled, “I’m in. Get rid of it, now.” You reached for the phone and he swatted your hand away. 

“That wasn’t the deal. You’re going to have to do a lot of convincing to make me let go of that.” He left his phone where it was. Even if you could grab it without him noticing, it was likely protected with a password or fingerprint. “I mean, it’s great content for when I’m away. All alone in the safe house...I had some pretty hot nights.”

He set off down the road and you were put off by the movement of the car. He passed your building and turned the corner. “Where are you taking me?” You crossed your arms.

“Not far,” He answered vaguely, steering with one hand as he rubbed his crotch. “Won’t make it very, if I’m honest.”

“What do you want from me?” You asked desperately. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

“I want all of you,” He snickered darkly. “Every last bit of you. I want me inside of you forever.”

He pulled onto a side street. Run-down buildings and potholes marked its neglect. This was a road one avoided in New York if they valued their jewelry, and even their life. He stopped the car and killed the engine, tucking the keys into the pocket along the door. He took your purse from you, a brief tug-of-war easily won, and tossed it in the back. He unbuckled his seatbelt before his hands were on his pants again. He undid his fly without pretense. You stared at him with wide eyes.

“Come on,” He urged, “It was a long mission.”

“Right here?” You glanced around at the empty street.

“Yes, right here,” He reached over and roughly unhooked the button of your pants. “Slide your seat back.”

You stared at him. The line of his jaw told you he was serious. The spark in your pelvis made it harder to refuse. You reached down to the small lever and the seat slid back to its limits. Steve pushed himself out of his seat and across the console until he was over you. He shoved his pants and boxer down so that his cock sprang forth. In an instant, he was tugging at your pants, ripping the zipper apart as his hand dragged them down past your ass. He lowered your bottoms to your knees, panties tangled in them.

As he pressed himself to you, your pants forced your knees up and you slipped down in the seat as he reclined it beneath you. You braced the door of the car as he rested his weight on top of you, your legs bent painfully. Steve slid inside of you easily, your pussy already slick. He groaned as he bottomed out, gripping the headrest just above you.

“You missed me,” He purred in your ear, “I can feel it.” He pulled out and thrust back in and a strangled moan forced its way from your throat. “You like it when I fuck you like this?” He rasped as he carried his motion, “Out here where anyone can see?” You shook your head and looked out the window. You couldn’t see much from your position.

Steve plunged into you, deeper and deeper, his hips slammed against you. The seat buckled beneath you and the whole car seemed to be rocking. You could see the reflection of his bare ass in the windshield; the muscles contracted with each violent thrust. You were sweating terribly, wrapped in his heat and your own. Your back and legs were sore from being bent but the tingle along your thighs was irresistible. His cock filled you entirely, your walls relished the sensation of him inside of you. The friction stirred your repressed lust and you hadn’t the strength to fight it. Or him.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of this,” He hummed in your ear, “Away on the mission, all I could think of was filling you up. Watching my cum drip from you.” His voice was low, gravelly, interspersed with wild breaths, “I couldn’t stop watching that video...but I didn’t wanna waste my cum. Not on me.” His movement grew jagged as he choked on his words. “Ahhhhh.”

He seemed surprised by his orgasm and the warmth seeped inside of you as he stilled. He rested his head on the seat just beside yours and shuddered. “Fuck,” He swore, rasping in your ear. He turned to press his lips to your cheek as he cradled your head with his thick hand. He remained within you as he caught his breath.

He began to move again, slow this time, and you felt him getting hard inside of you. You could feel the cum as his cock pushed it in and out of you. You closed your eyes as the electricity began to flow through your body, his pelvis rubbing on your clit. You touched your forehead as he once more reached a paramount. He hammered into you frantically, chasing yet another orgasm as yours rose in a sharp cry. You bit down on your hand as you tried to stifle it.

You felt him cum again and he leaned back as he watched himself pounding into you. He slowed and reached down to stir the mixture of both your juices from your thigh. He carefully pulled out of you and you felt the sudden gush of cum as it spilled onto the seat. He climbed back to the driver’s side awkwardly in the small space. Your feet fell back to the floor and you laid prone and weak.

Steve put his cock back in his pants and zipped up his pants. Keys jingled and the engine rumbled back to life. The car shifted into motion and you felt his hand as it slithered beneath the tails of your blouse and rested on your stomach. “Don’t worry,” He said, “I’ve got more for you, doll.”

-

Your days didn’t get any easier. This time, Steve wasn’t letting up. You ran into him everywhere; the grocery store, the lab, on the street. You were certain he was stalking you and it was starting to drive you mad. Your anxiety was making you wild as well. The constant dread of when and where he would pop up. Of him dragging you away to sate his urges. It was too much for mind and body alike. You were exhausted through and through. Your nerves had your stomach constantly turning and you eyes and ears ever alert.

There was little you could do to deter him. He had the video and thus your livelihood in his hands. It took all your energy to keep up at work though you were sure Bruce was starting to notice your yawning and the dark circles under your eyes. You were currently running your hands through your hair as you tried to read the report before you. You were both hungry and completely sick. You couldn’t decide if you needed to eat or vomit. The last two weeks had scrambled everything inside of you.

There was no respite. Steve hadn’t been sent away a single day. He was always hanging around with Tony or Bucky. Lurking at the corner of your life. The thought of him made you want to retch. You leaned on the table and rubbed your stomach, trying to ease the storm. Bruce looked up over his glasses and raised a brow. “You okay?”

“Fine...I didn’t have breakfast,” You answered, dropping your hand.

“You should eat something,” He said blandly, “You have my permission to take an early lunch…” He leaned back, his eyes back on his work, “Nothing much going on here.”

You considered his offer. He was probably right. You should eat. You needed to start taking care of yourself again. You couldn’t let Steve ruin your whole life. That you had already decided on. You nodded and gave a small ‘see ya later’ to Bruce who didn’t really hear you over his work. It was fine, you were used the scientist’s solitary manner. You shrugged and grabbed your bag.

There was a cafe just across from the tower. You had stopped frequenting those inside in an effort to evade your unwanted shadow. You stepped into the jazzy din and waited in line, ordering a vanilla latte and organic breakfast wrap. Something light. You took your food and sat a table for two, enjoying the moment to yourself. You ate slowly, knowing Bruce wouldn’t notice if you were a few minutes late. Hell, he likely didn’t even know you were gone.

When you were finished, you returned your dishes to the counter and thanked the staff. You headed back onto the street, the food settling in the pit of your stomach. You grumbled as you waited for the light to change and crossed, a gassy belch rising. You couldn’t stop burping as you neared the steps of the tower and the air turned to acid. You turned in a panic, rushing to the closest trash bin, gripping the grimy metal as you spit up your late breakfast into the depths. You shakily wiped your mouth with your sleeve and pushed yourself away from the can. Shit. You must’ve caught a bug or something.

Up in the lab, Bruce was as he was before. You sat but again felt the urge to retch. You stood and braced the edge of the table. “Bruce,” You murmured, “I think I need to…” You clasped your lips together as you held back, “Go...I don’t feel so hot.”

He looked up and blanched. “Yeah, you look...off.”

“Thanks,” You grumbled dryly, “I’ll catch up tomorrow, I promise, I just, I gotta--” You held your jaw tight as you swallowed back the vomit. “Bye.” You turned and grabbed your purse, racing out of the laboratory before you spewed.

-

In a few days, the nausea still hadn’t cleared but you had attuned to it. Some pepto and you were on your way. No fever or stuffy nose so you figured it was just your anxiety. Hell, you were always on edge and you weren’t surprised your body was revolting. Steve didn’t make it any easier. The previous afternoon, he had ambushed you at the lab. You had appeased him in the tight bathroom but were convinced that someone must have heard. He wasn’t very subtle about the whole affair and was growing more and more brazen.

Still, you felt strange. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more than mental. It had to be physical. It lingered so persistently. You were sore and achy and couldn’t get comfortable. Not too mention the mood swings. Again, it could be reasoned that your hormones were reacting to your daily doses but you just didn’t feel right.

Then the thought eked in. That which seemed to rile Steve so much. But it was impossible. You couldn’t be. No, you were on the pill and you never missed it. Well, I mean, it wasn’t a one-hundred percent guarantee; there was that minuscule percentage. You sighed as you climbed the subway stairs, pausing before the corner pharmacy. If you just took a test you could rule it out. You hesitated before willing yourself inside.

You hid the box in your purse and carried on home. Your apartment was quiet; tense. You were sweating as the pressure built. You weren’t, you kept telling yourself. Couldn’t be. You hurried in without locking the door and dug out the box. You rushed into the washroom and sat on the toilet as you unwrapped the test. You read through the instruction and followed them carefully. You set aside the used test and waited. You stared at the ceiling counting down the seconds.

You added a few extra for your impatience and looked over to the counter. Slowly you lifted the test and felt your heart sink. No! It couldn’t be… You heard the floorboards of your living room creak. Shit. It wasn’t hard to guess what visitor had dropped in uninvited at the worst time. You gulped and gathered all the packaging and the test, stuffing it to the bottom of the bin beside the toilet. You shook out the nerves and washed your hands. He didn’t need to know.

As you emerged, Steve had found his way to your bedroom. It was the first time he had been to your apartment but found no difficulty in making himself at home. You stared at him blankly as he leaned back on his hands. 

“Cute little place,” He smirked, “A wonder I haven’t dropped in earlier.”

“You’ve been following me,” You accused.

“Maybe,” He shrugged, “Must get lonely in this big bed by yourself.”

“No, not really,” You crossed your arms.

“Y/N, I thought we were past tiptoeing around this whole thing,” He sat forward and ran his hands over his thighs. “Get undressed. I want you on the bed in one minute.”

You didn’t delay in following his orders. The sooner he was done, the sooner he was gone and you could think. When you were naked, he took you gruffly. His usual pattern; decisive, dominant, dirty. You were numb to his touch as you thought of the test hidden in your trash can. You wanted to cry as you felt him cum inside of you, with the same words he had spoken before. The promise he had kept.

Your breath was ragged as he pulled out of you. You didn’t move, splayed out across the mattress. He moved to sit just beside your thigh, his hand on your stomach. You looked away and closed your eyes. He didn’t mind; he only turned you over and entered from behind. You smothered your face in the pillow, fighting the tears as they threatened to fall. 

When he had cum a third time, he lifted himself from the bed and you watched his naked ass disappear through the bathroom door. You rolled over, your pussy leaking all over your bed. You didn’t care. You could hear the tap going. You breathed out and then you heard it. Laughter. You looked over to the door as Steve walked out with your bin in his hand. 

You sat up suddenly and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. “What the fuck?” You stood and charged towards him, “You’re going through my trash?”

“I was just checking,” He smirked, “To see if you already took it.”

“You...you were following me.” You tried to grab the can from him but he easily held it away from you.

“I know,” He almost sang, “Two lines. I know what that means.” He let the bin drop and it wobbled before righting itself. His arms were around you before you could react and he pulled you closer. His hand slipped along your stomach.

“No,” You tried to push away his hand, “I’m not keeping it.”

“That’s not your choice,” He growled and his touch stiffened against you, “It’s never been your choice. Those little sugar pills you’ve been swallowing...well, those weren’t your choice either, were they?”

“What?” You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“It’s easy enough to have the colour and shape simulated,” His hand swept up to cradle your face, “Surprisingly easier to get in here, though the window is a bit small.”

“No,” You grabbed his wrists as the tears formed in the corner of your eyes. “You...you…”

“You think Tony will let you keep your job?” He asked, “If he thinks you’re carrying some random man’s baby? That’s not a good look. Or I could always send him that little snippet of us in the lab,” He added, “but...if he thinks you’re in a committed relationship with his best agent and close friend, he might just overlook the timing of it all.”

“I…” You searched his face. His jaw was set in his stone as his eyes bore into you.

“That’s a choice I’ll leave to you. Whether or not you keep your job, I’ll be here. For my baby,” His cock poked your stomach as he grew hard again, “You can have it all, all you have to do it be good.”

“You know it’s not a choice,” You hissed as the tears trickled down your cheeks. “I hate you.”

“I’m the father of your child,” He snarled, “You’ll have to love a part of me.” His hand was on your stomach again. “We’re connected now.”

---

(deleted scene: Steve getting stuck in the window for a full five minutes before actually getting in the apartment) 😂

+

tags: @meaganottiz02 @patzammit @thepettyavenger @biasedtitties @thosecikinnn @glitterypinkkitty @thoughtlesstales @selinbaskaya @lattaex @vitamingrant @lilithhellfire @bbyspiiice @ironlady1993 @blackpantherimagines @kweenkxtrina @heavenlyblyss @letsagomario @shikin83 @collette04 @breezy1415 @alexakeyloveloki @beautiful-and-strange @phoenix21love @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @justballoonfishthings @ms-munchkin @whosmarisaaarw @kxllyxnnx @calspixie  @imdiegohargreeves @satinprincessxo @amethyst-the-thot @docharleythegeekqueen @iiqueer-vibesii @carol-damn-vers @l0rd-disick @jilldsumner @hufflebucky @lanabanana-86 @nerdypinupcrystal @notyourtypicalrose  @pink1031 @agent-spidey @wassupbitchesssss @lucifersnipnips @thirstyforsomeyandere @xxm3xxj @roses-and-absinthe @stuckybarton @ruff-m3rc @secretlyactivated @xxm3xxj  @asleep-amid-the-flowers

[ambiengrey]

Loitering Ch 12

This is it; summary.

<-previous

bearing bad news

“The world seemed to shimmer a little at the edges.”

― Neil Gaiman, Coraline

When awareness came slowly sinking back in, it was through the solidity of the cabinet at his back – the sharp handle digging into the muscle, the scars, there—

Jason pressed back, hard, desperate to feel grounded against something, even as the absurd possibility that he might slip right through it – fall into some unknown abyss – made him anxious—

Then he heard Dick.

It was jarring, for he couldn’t remember, for a moment, when the man had gotten there—

And then, he realised the memory eluded him, because, Dick had never gotten there—

Opening his eyes felt like something he had to force his body into, and with it came an involuntary tremor, rocking his limbs, like he’d snapped out of sleep-paralysis – only, he hadn’t gone to sleep—

Vaguely, he remembered, the shaking in his fingers, as he’d backed off of Tim – on his back, limbs jerking, while he mumbled, and giggled incomprehensively – and scooted as far away as he could get—

On his haunches, fingers pressing into his thighs while his breaths came ragged and irregular and Tim’s words danced through the quickly gathering fog in his head—B—Bruce’s’d—dead—

—Bruce’s’d—

—dead—

—B—

—

—

—Bruce—

—‘s—d—

—

—

—dead—

—

—

—dead—

—

—Bruce—is—dead—

—in a brief moment of clarity, he could hardly be sure had been real, he’d looked over to Tim – gaze having been on—the floor—the walls—the cupboards – and realised the words weren’t in his head, because they were still spilling from the kid’s mouth—

“Bruce is—

“—dead—

“Bruce—

“—Bruce is dead—

“Bruce is dead—d—

“—dead—

“Bruce is dead—”

—

Before—

—

“A—ha-a—”

Laughter.

“Ah-HA—ha-HA—A—!”

Jason had practically fallen back, hitting cabinets, drawing up his knees – arms, hands – as he folded into himself, shutting his eyes tight while he shook and struggled to breathe—

Tim laughing in his ears until he couldn’t hear him anymore.

“Haa-ha-ha—haha—HA—HEHE—HAA-HAA—heh—heh—heh—haha—HaHAHAA—haa-a-a-ha-a—

“Ha-hA-AAH-HA—ha-ha-haa—a-a—hehe—heh—Ha-HA—HAHAHAA—HAAA-HA—HAAA-AH-HA—

“HA-HA-HA—HAA-HA—HA-HA—HAA-HEH—HEH—HA-A—HA-HAA—HA—HA—HA—HA—HA—HA—

“AAH—HAA-HA-HA—H-HEH—HE—

“HEEHEE-HEE—HAA-HA-HAA—HA—HA—H-HEH-HA—

“—

“—

“—

“—

“—

“Ha—

“Hehe—heh—ha—

“—a—a—

“—

“—

”

…

…

…

…

…

… … … … … … … … … …. ….. …… .…. …. ….. …… ….. …. ….. …… ….. …. ….. …… ….. …

“—little brother—

“—

“—it’s okay—it’s—okay—

“Shhh—shh—sh-sh—”

—

Dick was on the floor, next to Tim, with one arm round the boy’s back, half-lifting him off the floor. Tim’s head hung back, and Jason watched Dick shift his elbow to support it, lift it so Dick could see his face, press his free hand to Tim’s cheek as he spoke—

Jason couldn’t make out the words.

His head was pounding.

“Dick—?” he breathed, squinting, not quite sure he knew what he was seeing, or where he was—

Dick looked around to him, though, pushing Tim’s inquisitive fingers away from his face – his throat – without looking—

He held the kid’s hand tight in his own.

It took him a moment to realise Dick was speaking.

“Are you okay?”

Jason blinked, and nodded distantly when Dick said his name, repeated the question again.

Jason moved, pushing himself to his feet against the cabinet, and clutching at door handles and the edge of the counter like he needed the support. Everything felt foggy, dizzying, and after a moment Jason concluded he must have blacked out at some point—

When Tim had laughed – Jason must have blacked out—

He shook his head fervently, ran a trembling hand through his hair, and took a deep breath.

“Jason,” Dick said, insistently, and Jason looked down at him, still confused about how he’d even gotten there. “Water. For Tim. Please? I can’t let him go.”

Tim was a shaky mess in Dick’s arms, the kid’s hands tucked into his sleeves again, fingers tightly gripping the ends from inside—

He wasn’t laughing anymore.

At least, there wasn’t any sound.

“Right,” Jason mumbled, and pushed off the counter, passing the pair to get to the sink. When he turned about, a full glass in hand, he held it out to Dick expectantly. The older man didn’t so much as reach for it, though.

“Put it here,” he said instead, gesturing the floor with a flick of his head, before shifting his weight. “I need you to hold Tim for me.”

“What?” Jason blanched. “No.”

“Jason,” Dick all but glared at him. “I don’t have time for your crap right now. Tim needs his medicine; if I don’t give it to him right now, he could die. I can’t hold him down and give it to him at the same time, so you – sit the fuck down.”

“O-okay,” Jason dropped to his knees just behind Tim, almost toppling over the glass as he set it on the floor. “Um—”

Dick lifted Tim into a sitting position, scooting closer to Jason and depositing the boy in Jason’s awkwardly held arms with his back to Jason’s chest.

“Just, hold his arms,” Dick instructed, allowing Jason’s hands to take the place of his own. Tim shook, almost struggled at the brief loss of contact and Jason had to tighten his hold. Dick took hold of his wrists and moved him, wrapping Jason’s arms around Tim’s, folding the kid’s across his chest to keep him steady. Tim’s legs kicked out, off to the side, once or twice, before settling into a perpetual twitch. His shoulders still shook with mute laughter.

“Don’t worry,” Dick said, voice quiet – soothing – while he pulled a bottle of pills from the pocket of his jacket and popped the cap. He tipped out two into the palm of his hand, and scooted closer still. “Everything’s going to be alright,” for a moment, Jason thought Dick was speaking to him, but, “Come on, Timmy…”

Dick pressed his hand against the side of Tim’s head, where it had lolled against Jason’s arm, and lifted so he was looking up. Getting a good look at his face now, Jason could see Tim’s eyes were wide open, wider than normal, while his lips spread into a big, unwavering grin.

It was all Jason could do not to lean back, distancing himself from that horrible expression – or gag altogether at the sight.

“Hold tight,” Dick spared Jason a warning glance, before he tipped one of the pills down Tim’s open mouth. At once Tim was thrashing, body trying to twist this way and that, only unsuccessful because Jason held him fast. He was shaking his head at the same time, and Jason was afraid he might sprain his neck with the force of it—

Dick had a fist in Tim’s hair not a moment later, however, and the glass in his free hand. “Come on, Tim,” he almost sounded like he was scolding the boy, as he put the edge of the glass to Tim’s tight bottom lip. “You have to swallow. You’ll feel better when you do, trust me—”

Tim’s response was some unintelligible sound, deep in the back of his throat, and if he tried shaking his head again, it was useless against Dick’s firm grasp.

Tim’s heart was a hellish drumbeat against Jason’s own, thudding too quickly.

Dick tipped the glass, spilling clear liquid into Tim’s gaping mouth, even as he held the boy more firmly by the hair, dissuading any physical protest—

Tim gargled the water—

His eyes held less mirth and more panic—

Jason was taking deep, anxious breaths, his fingers digging into Tim’s arms—

“Dick—!” he exclaimed, a fretful lilt to his brother’s name, when Dick clamped his free hand – glass set roughly aside – across Tim’s slipping grin, thumb and forefinger simultaneously holding his nose—

But Dick ignored him, fervently – desperately – whispering, “Swallow, dammit—”

It wasn’t long before Tim did, unable not to, and Dick let him go, only to come back with the second pill, repeating the process—

Finally, with an exhausted sigh, Dick leaned back on his hands, shoulders slumping with relief even as he kept a vigil eye on Tim’s expression – looking for the tell-tale signs that his medicine was starting to take effect.

Tim had already stopped thrashing, as if he’d decided the effort no longer mattered, since he’d swallowed the pills – or like his body just wasn’t up for the extended exertion anymore. Tim had been convulsing on the floor, seemingly endlessly, when Dick found him—

Absently, Dick shook his head, not wanting to relive the memory—

He watched Tim’s eyelids slowly start drooping, his posture sagging, arms relaxing in Jason’s hold, fingers slack in their sleeves—

“Dick,” Jason said, sounding distressed—

Dick jolted upright, immediately pressing his fingers to Tim’s pulse, cradling his head in one hand, “What?” he looked to Jason and back again, Tim’s pulse a steady thump against his fingers.

Jason’s shoulders stiffened, “Is…” he hesitated, glancing down at Tim’s near-serene expression, sounding unsure. “Is he…alright?” he asked quietly.

Dick sighed, a small smile crossing his lips at Jason’s genuine concern, “Yeah,” he replied, sitting back. “It’s just the pills taking effect. He’ll be fine, now…” Dick brushed his fingers through Tim’s lengthy black hair, pushing them sideways across his sweaty forehead.

“Oh…” Jason said, posture noticeably relaxing, even though his hold on Tim didn’t slacken, eyes on the youngest between them, and, with his head bowed thus, long curls hiding his face. The smile slipped from Dick’s expression, hand retreating to settle fisted on his thigh, less he run his fingers through Jason’s locks as well.

He was sorely tempted to – a vague memory, fleetingly surfacing, of him having done that long after the two of them had met, too long after Dick had officially passed on Robin’s colours to his newly acquired little brother – not replacement. Late one night – or, rather, early one morning – Jason drooling on the couch’s armrest, having fallen asleep halfway through their movie, and, just watching the kid like that after having spent most of the day and a fair portion of patrol with him, Dick had been filled with a sense of warmth and responsibility. He’d wanted to scoop Jason up and hold him close for a bit – overwhelmed by a yearning to protect he’d never thought he’d ever have the opportunity to feel. A big-brotherness he hadn’t known he’d wanted. He’d settled for combing back Jason’s hair affectionately, though, and shaking the kid by the shoulder to wake up.

It had been one of a few occasions – so few in fact, Dick thought he barely needed both hands to count them all – they’d spent any time together; that was a good time, void of the pressure to impress or approve, the tension created by their other identities and what they meant to Batman, not to mention Batman himself, or Dick and Bruce’s quickly spiralling tolerance for each other at any given moment.

Dick dropped his gaze, accosted again by a fierce disappointment in himself for the way he’d let Jason down. He should have made sure there had been more of those moments. He’d certainly had plenty with Tim, even though it had taken him a lot of time to get to the point where he could. Jason’s death had been such a gaping wound, and Tim had been an insistent stranger. He’d treated him badly, too, at first.

“I’m sorry,” Dick said, and, it must have seemed abrupt, if the way Jason’s head came up was any indication – just enough for Dick to make out the colour of his eyes, the intensity of his stare. The furrow to his brow was deep, expression caught somewhere between confusion, and suspicion – as if Dick was about to tell him something…

…something he already should have—

“For not checking on you first,” Dick elaborated, before Jason could ask him what for, because, his intention hadn’t been to be vague, or to drag this out. There was genuine regret in the apology – because, the way Jason had looked when he’d come in—but – but he’d also said it, feeling the need for an appropriate segue. He didn’t want to just barrel through the doorway on this. “You weren’t listening to me…barely moving, even, just—”

Dick watched Jason’s expression closely as he spoke; the younger man’s stare only getting harder—

“Anyway, Tim was already—” Dick switched tracks, gesturing vaguely at their younger brother. “I had to do something, before it was too late…”

Jason nodded, and looked away – not back at Tim, but…into the depths of his apartment instead, down the hallway to Dick’s left, past his shoulder to the living room – eyes briefly narrowing when, Dick guessed, he saw the door – and toward the small kitchen space, finally.

Dick turned his head to look, as well, taking in Jason’s crushed bottle of milk, scattered cans and other groceries all strewn haphazardly across the floor, with greater concern.

“What happened, Jay?” he asked quietly, and watched Jason swallow. “Did you fight?” he asked plainly, voice hard, when Jason didn’t answer immediately. Dick wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking – if he was assuming the worst of Jason—

“No,” Jason replied, though, serious – adamant, incredulous – meeting Dick’s eyes – his own, bright green—and Dick—

—only felt the stiffness in his fingers, how tight he’d been holding them, when they relaxed – relieved.

“Okay,” Dick said at once, “So – what happened?” he repeated, eager to steer the conversation away from the accusation he knew Jason had heard, behind his previous question.

Jason’s lips thinned. He glanced at Tim, not knowing how honest he needed to be with Dick right now. “We had a conversation,” he decided on, and then rushed forward realising he didn’t want to rehash the details of that “conversation” – or the one Tim had actually come over to have, either. “And Tim, he was—saying some things, when, all of a sudden he just—” letting go of one wrist, Jason waved a hand through the air in gesture – taking in Tim’s current state, the space they occupied, the two feet of kitchen flooded with milk—

Jason clasped Tim’s wrist again, firmly, as his breath stuttered and his head bowed lower – he felt sick. He should have—“I should have done something,” he mumbled, and shut his eyes tight as if that could cover the shame he felt, because—“I just,” all he could see was Tim, thrashing and laughing behind his eyelids—“I was here, with him, one moment, and the next—you were here, and I—” he couldn’t quite look at Dick even as his head came up, eyes opened, wide with realisation, before he looked away again at once – not directly at Tim either—at his own hands against the dark grey of Tim’s hoodie—“It’s my fault—” he breathed.

“Hey, no,” was Dick’s immediate response, unsurprisingly to Jason, who shook his head in reply and cut Dick off even as his older brother’s hands came down on his shoulders, his arms, for comfort—

“You said – Tim could have…died, without his medicine,” Jason said, feeling the weight of the words hang heavy over his head. And here, he finally looked at Dick, “I wasn’t helping him – I had no idea what to do—I-I didn’t even try!” he implored, feeling the heat of embarrassment and shame, and self-loathing, and disappointment creeping from the centre of his chest all the way up his neck – touching his cheeks, his ears—

“Little Wing,” Dick’s tone was equally as insistent, but he didn’t get much further—

Jason shook his head fervently, “He could have died, Dick, while I was sitting around not doing a damned thing—”

“That’s enough!” Dick snapped, fingers tightening on Jason’s shoulders as he stared the younger man down.

Jason faltered, mouth agape, but no retort forthcoming, while his insides felt cold and the air not enough in his lungs—

He blinked. “I’m sorry…” he whispered, eyes lowering from Dick’s intense gaze, shoulders slumping—

He realised—he was clutching at Tim. Feeling the rise and fall of the younger man’s chest, feeling his own chest stretched against his back – tightly pressed against Jason as he held him firmly caged in his arms—

If Jason hadn’t…blacked out – might he have been able to coax Tim out of his manic attack? Maybe if he’d tried harder? Maybe if that obscene Joker-esque laugh didn’t have such a damning effect on his insides? Maybe if Tim hadn’t said—

—

—

Jason back-pedalled fast, not wanting to think about that, again.

If it weren’t for Dick showing up out of apparently nowhere, Tim might have died on his dirty kitchen floor while Jason sat three feet away none the wiser.

Trying so hard to find him, rescue him from the Joker, would have all been for nought.

And Dick…how would he have explained that to Dick, and Cassandra—and Alfred?

Tim died in my apartment, while I was having a mental-breakdown; sorry I couldn’t save him. Tough luck, Big Bird.

“No,” Dick said, sincerely, squeezing Jason’s shoulder – daring to press his palm to his little brother’s cheek—

Jason blinked, and stared, and swallowed – carefully shifting away from Dick’s touch—

Dick smiled a small smile nevertheless, “We’re assuming,” Dick began to explain, hand hovering a moment longer before he carefully retreated tight fists back to his thighs. “More than anything, that…this thing Tim has,” he looked at his once-again youngest brother, the peaceful expression on his face… “could, potentially, kill him, if left untreated for too long. Only because, Joker’s Venom is commonly known to do that. Victims start laughing, and laughing, and laughing until they literally bust an organ, or, barring that, they go insane – hallucinating, doing crazy things, attacking people, exhausting themselves until their bodies are too weary and strained to keep functioning at all.

“All of which you know,” he added, waving a hand. “But…what the Joker did to Tim,” Dick continued, carefully glancing at Jason’s reaction to those words, remembering how his younger brother had protested – not wanting to know the details of Joker’s actions, before. Jason visibly flinched, if only slightly, but made no objection when Dick carried on, “It’s different than anything we’ve seen before. We’ve been able to keep it at bay for long periods of time, with this ‘medication,’ but even so…it’s pretty much experimental, at best…potentially damaging, at worst – we don’t even know.

“There’s hardly any real way to gauge it,” he sighed, shoulders slumping. “It acts a little bit like a kind of infection. Or, maybe an allergen, even. The medication staves it off for a somewhat arbitrary amount of time. It always comes back on its own, regardless of how regularly Tim takes his medication,” Dick put a hand on Tim’s wrist, just beside Jason’s hand. He gave the younger man a brief smile, “Let me just—” Jason half let go, allowing Dick to uncross Tim’s arms so he could rifle through the boy’s pockets.

When the front pair yielded nothing, Dick reached into Tim’s still-unzipped hoodie to feel at apparent inside pockets – producing a white plastic pill-bag a second later.

“But,” he continued, as he opened the baggie. “He does have a relatively set schedule, and he’s supposed to always have some on him,” Dick had shook out the bag above one open palm, but, as he already suspected, nothing fell out. He sighed. “He should know better than this. He should have refilled it before leaving the house!” Dick snapped at no-one, even though he was looking at Tim.

He looked more disappointed than angry, however.

And then, he just looked crushed. “There’s always a chance it will hit him out of nowhere. There are…triggers that make it act up again. It’s hard to predict exactly what those triggers will be at any given moment—”

“I should’ve known,” Jason said, though it sounded like he was speaking more to himself than trying to cut into Dick’s little monologue. Dick frowned at him, watched him carefully as he carried on, still not talking to Dick directly, “The way our conversation was going… If I had known about—this thing,” he griped, for lack of a more precise term, “If I had just asked – or—or let one of you tell me – what the Joker did—” he all but whispered, “—maybe I could’ve stopped him, from—” he didn’t know how to even describe it, so he just didn’t. Stopped speaking, knowing Dick knew what he meant.

And, Dick did know, but—

“I don’t know…” Jason mumbled; tone quiet – defeated.

“None of us wanted that of you, Jay,” Dick said gently. “We know how hard having anything to do with the Joker must—must have been for you. Must be for you, even now. It was hard for us to hear what had happened to Tim – when he finally told us himself. I can’t imagine what you’d feel if you’d have had to listen to that,” Dick shook his head, forlorn. “Considering everything the Joker did to you, too, and everything that came after, after you were back…” he bit his lip, “I could probably not have told you, even if you’d asked…”

“Still,” Jason said, at length, still refusing to excuse himself it seemed. “The fact is I didn’t ask. And I should have.”

Dick pinched Tim’s empty pill-bag between his fingers, pressed tight, and didn’t know what to say without losing his temper – at Jason’s self-deprecating attitude; Dick just didn’t want to have to deal with it anymore right then.

“I was scared…” Dick confessed, after a beat. “That, maybe this time…” the air felt heavy between them. “This time it’d be too bad. I’d be too late. And…we’d lose Tim. To Joker, like we lost you,” he said, blunt and harsh, and looking up at Jason’s face – but of course the younger man wasn’t looking at him. “I might have been over-exaggerating, though…just a bit,” he added, more kindly. “I mean – the worst case, we can only assume…is death, but… There’s no way of knowing, I guess? Not until after it’s too late.”

It was quiet, then. Neither brother able to look at the other, or break the silence for a long, painful minute—

—as the minutes between them often seemed to be.

“You had enough reason to believe it would, though—kill him,” Jason spoke quietly. “And if it had, I—I don’t know what I would have done… How I would have lived with myself – with any of you,” he admitted, and felt the truth of it deep in the marrow of his bones. He’d already caused them so much grief, agony, and pain with what he’d done with Damian – and worse, he couldn’t begin to regret his actions in that regard, but—Tim.

This. Would have been so much worse. Tim could have been dead, and it would really have been Jason’s fault.

His coming back had been a fluke at best.

There was no guarantee like that for any of them anymore.

“But he didn’t,” Dick whispered.

“Only thanks to you – breaking down my door,” Jason replied, peeved only half-heartedly, as he looked beyond Dick’s shoulder. The chain had been the only thing keeping the door locked before. It was snapped now, the door left ajar, and Jason could only assume Dick had kicked it open, chain be damned, and rushed in without any regard for potentially curious neighbours appearing.

To his great relief, none of them had as of yet. This time of day, they weren’t generally at home, after all, but – one could hardly ever be too careful.

—there’s that infamous Bat-paranoia at work.

“Yeah…” Dick said, sheepish. “Sorry about that.”

“How did you even know where to find us?” Jason asked, genuinely perplexed.

“I pinged Tim’s phone the moment it came on,” Dick explained, and Jason nodded knowingly – apparently, the kid had been telling the truth about that, then, “It was only for a second, though,” or, at least, mostly, “But it was enough to get me an address. I rushed over right away. I had no idea I was going to find you here. I didn’t know what I was going to find here.”

“You told Alfred where you were going, didn’t you?” Jason asked, bemused.

“Of course,” Dick replied, curiosity colouring his tone as he picked up on Jason’s own.

“Didn’t he recognize the address?” Jason questioned, and Dick blinked, not bothering to hide any surprise.

“No. Should he have?”

“I…don’t know,” Jason said, eyes on the top of Tim’s head, expression calculating. “Tim said Alfred told him where I was; that’s how he found me.”

“He’d have told me, then,” Dick said confidently, and then, after a beat, “Timmy must have…”

“Lied,” Jason supplied, if quietly.

Dick pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes on Tim, but he made no reply.

Jason snorted, “I guess he’s not the perfect little replacement, after all…”

“He was never your replacement, Jason,” Dick said, pointed and exasperated – because this was not the first time someone had tried to explain this to Jason.

Jason gave his brother a dry, uncaring look, though, ignoring Dick’s tone. “Sure.” He added quickly, just as Dick had drawn a breath to retort, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dick huffed, annoyed, “Well, that’s typical,” he rolled his eyes.

“Excuse me?” Jason challenged.

“If you don’t want to discuss it, you shouldn’t have brought it up,” Dick said.

“I was only saying—” Jason started, but cut himself off, irately swiping a hand through the air, “You know what – never mind. I got replaced; it’s my prerogative to bring it up. And end the discussion about it.”

“Not that there’s been a discussion, yet,” Dick mumbled, though not quietly enough.

“I think you should take your little bird,” Jason said, almost abrupt with the calmness of his tone. “And leave.”

“Jason—

“I’m sorry,” Dick implored, genuine despite his obvious frustration. He heaved a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping. He was feeling—

Confused. And a little hurt, somehow. Maybe for Tim’s benefit? But – how could Jason still think of Tim as his replacement? Was this what Jason had meant – when he’d said nothing had changed after his conversation with Bruce?

“But,” Dick added, and braced himself, “‘My little bird’ came all the way here without telling me, or Cass, or Alfred,” Jason very carefully didn’t wince at the absence of Bruce’s name on that list, “and without his medication – when he knows how much he needs it,” he paused. “Why is that? What was he doing here, exactly?”

Jason stuck his tongue in his cheek, contemplating.

“If you don’t want to talk about anything else, that’s fine,” Dick goaded. “But I’m not going anywhere until you tell me this.”

“You can just ask him yourself, you know,” Jason sniped. “In between the lecture, when he wakes up.”

Dick scowled. “No. You tell me. I’m asking you.”

…

…

…

Finally, Jason gave in to Dick’s hard stare – if only partially, “He wanted… to tell me something… important,” Jason was gauging Dick’s reaction, if he were honest. Part of him wanted to bait Dick into confessing it – was already trying to. Because – how long had Bruce been dead? And, it wasn’t Dick – desperate-to-have-him-for-a-little-brother-Dick – at his door with the news? If Tim in his addled state could find Jason, he was certain Dick, all his eggs accounted for, could have, too. Then why hadn’t Jason heard it earlier? From Dick himself? He’d had opportunity, dammit—

“And…” Dick started, but there was hesitation in his tone. Of course Dick knew exactly what Tim was doing here. He’d been arguing with his little brother all week over letting Jason know about—

And.

Tim had not agreed with Dick putting it off for as long as he was doing. When they’d realised Tim had left the manor without telling anyone or leaving some kind of note or indication as to where he was going – Dick had known he might have gone looking for Jason. Of course. He just hadn’t been expecting Tim to actually find Jason.

“Did he?” Dick swallowed thickly, and tried looking more relaxed than he felt. If Tim’s condition when he’d come in was any indication – that was exactly the kind of news that might have triggered so severe an attack. Not to mention Jason’s own state—“Did he tell you—the important thing?” it came out so much quieter than what Dick had thought it would. And he realised, he was losing his nerve. What if the answer was yes—?

What if it was—?

“No,” Jason said, too quick and too abrupt and too final for it to be true—

“Who’s the liar, now?”

Jason started – as did Dick – at Tim suddenly interjecting. Jason could feel his face flush at the lie, besides, and his fingers tighten their hold on Tim involuntarily – less as a threat to the kid, and more as a means of anchoring himself.

“Tim!” Dick exclaimed, and had his hands on the side of the younger man’s face at once.

Tim’s eyes were open, and blue, and on Jason’s face, and knowing – the curve of his lips almost smug and testing, and challenging – but thankfully Tim, not—something else—

—someone—

“I’m fine,” Tim directed at Dick, who still pushed his hair back, and felt at his forehead, at his pulse. “Ease up, will you,” Tim said, as he started shifting, and both Dick and Jason let him go, sitting back.

Tim came upright with a sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck with both hands. Jason watched his fingertips come free of their sleeves to press at his skin there and he swallowed, resisting the urge to feel at his own neck, where Tim had dug in and held on with those same fingers.

Everything had happened so quickly after Tim had tried strangling him – and now he was sitting there like nothing had.

Jason scowled.

“Why is this empty?” Dick’s tone was scolding, and, looking over Tim’s shoulder, Jason could see he had the pill-bag up, shaking it in front of Tim’s face in exactly the manner Jason had thought he’d do.

Jason saw Tim’s shoulders stiffen.

“I just forgot,” he said, quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“You know better,” Dick continued. Tim must have pulled a face, Jason figured, because Dick clamped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and gave him an intense look, saying, “Tim. This is serious.”

“Yes. Fine. I got it,” Tim scathed, to Jason’s surprise, and shrugged Dick’s hand off even as he got to his feet. “I’ll do better next time, okay?”

“Tim,” Dick said again, somewhere between aggravation and defeat, as he stood.

Jason followed suit, but tugged Tim by the shoulder once he was up, to turn the younger man halfway in his direction. “I told you he’d be worried,” Jason said, almost smugly. Tim gave him a dry, unimpressed look, to which Jason shrugged.

With a huff, Dick caught Tim by the arm, “Come on. We’ve overstayed our welcome. Let’s go home.”

Tim forced his arm free, however, and looked at Dick incredulously, “You’re kidding, right?”

“Tim,” Dick half-hissed, expression warning.

“Yeah. Get out,” Jason said, waving a hand as if to shoo them.

Tim turned to scowl at him before facing Dick again. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Dick was being an absolute dick. “We’re not leaving until you tell him.”

Jason stiffened, knowing full-well what Tim was referring to, and assumed he must be thinking Jason hadn’t heard him the first time, or hadn’t taken him seriously. By the look Dick was giving Tim, though, Jason concluded his hunch was correct – Dick was trying to hide it from Jason. He didn’t want him to know Bruce was dead.

Dick all but confirmed it in the next moment, catching Tim securely by the arm and lowering his voice, gaze intent and fixed on Tim, but Jason still heard, “Not right now.”

It stung, and the pain was a new kind of hurt Jason had no desire to keep on feeling. It made his stomach turn.

“Tell him, Dick,” Tim kept his tone level, but didn’t lower his voice any, unconcerned about Jason hearing. “Or I will.”

“Look, whatever it is,” Jason cut in, turning their attention to him. He swallowed uncomfortably, “I don’t even care – just go.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Tim dismissed, at the same time Dick tugged uselessly at his arm—

“Come on—”

Completely ignoring Dick, eyes boring into Jason’s, determined expression on the kid’s face; Tim visibly gulped in a brief breath before he started, “Jason, Bruce is—”

“Don’t say it again,” Jason snapped, panic rippling through his limbs and propelling his arm up, hand all but slapping Tim’s mouth shut—

Tim recoiled, backing up into Dick, who caught him by the arms to steady him – both of them staring wide-eyed at Jason—

He’d only just panicked, just cut Tim off, when his stomach churned, and he could feel every morsel he’d had for breakfast and been munching on since, shooting back up his oesophagus—

He spun to hunch over the sink, vomiting all over his unwashed dishes with a violent shudder.

“Jason—” Dick was next to him in a second, hovering with his hands raised uncertainly.

Jason gagged a second time, shoulders hunching, arms and hands and fingers feeling like their bones were vibrating. He breathed, bottom lip trembling, and the inside of his mouth watering, a trail of spittle dangling into the sink.

“I’m so sorry,” Dick whispered by his side, finally letting his hand drop to Jason’s back, rubbing soothing circles the way he’d been doing for Tim – Tim who’d hunched his shoulders and looked away the moment Jason turned to vomit. He’d looked back by now, though, Dick saw when he looked over at their youngest brother – to scowl at him. He was furious with Tim, he realised – for leaving the manor without a word and putting himself in danger, only to come over to Jason’s – and how the hell did he even know where Jason lived?! – and tell him the thing Dick had thought they’d agreed to hold off on. Until Dick could find Jason again, anyway. The Red Hood hadn’t disappeared from Gotham altogether, but rumour was he was on a very particular case that was taking up all of his time. It was hush-hush and he was scarce. Dick had tried the safe-house Alfred had known about the past couple of nights, and a few others he’d unearthed over the course of the year, but none of them had given him a clue. He’d left Jason notes, and they’d been left unanswered so far. Probably Jason hadn’t even found them yet.

All the while, Dick had been trying to deal with his own mounting grief after Bruce’s passing – while trying to comfort Cass and Tim both, and keeping his chin up for Alfred, and—

And he’d had no idea what Jason’s reaction would have been. He just…needed a little more time.

Tim…

Well, Dick didn’t know what the hell Tim had been thinking.

Could hardly determine his expression at present, for that matter. He was unfazed by the scowl, returning Dick’s gaze with a level expression of his own. “He deserves to know,” Tim said simply.

Dick only looked at him harder, free hand fisting, “I’m not arguing over that,” he said tightly. “But there was no need to do it like this. Right now.”

Tim returned his scowl, before crossing his arms and looking away. Dick rolled his eyes.

“Hand me that,” he said shortly, gesturing the glass on the floor. Tim scooped to obey, and Dick emptied the glass in the other side of the sink, refilling it with cool water.

Jason had heard what they’d been saying, of course, and he’d listened without a word. Partly because he was feeling shaky and sick, and a headache was slowly making itself known. He’d pressed his palm against his forehead, other hand on the counter by the sink, and closed his eyes once it felt like he wouldn’t throw up anything more.

“Here,” Dick said gently, touching at his raised arm to get his attention.

Jason turned enough to take the glass, sipping slowly. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, all the while keeping his head ducked, while Dick looked around for a hand towel. Jason took it to wipe his mouth with after he’d set down the glass, then handed it back to Dick to hang up neatly where he’d found it.

Jason turned his head to regard Tim, scowling at a wall.

“You’re a real piece of work, kid,” he said.

“I got it from you,” Tim replied, easy and flippant.

“Cute,” Jason said crossly, scowling. “But flattery won’t help you here.”

Tim snorted, opened his mouth like he meant to retort, but Dick cut in, hands raised between them—

“Okay, stop.”

Tim shut his mouth, but glared at Jason, who glared right back before he looked away with a groan.

Not ten minutes ago he’d been frickin’ cradling Tim in his damn arms, scared—

—

—

—shit—

—

—

—scared that the younger man might be dead any second, and now here he was, thoroughly annoyed at him and his smartass mouth.

Jason swallowed thickly, the sour taste of vomit no less present for the water he’d drunk, and the unpleasantness of it a suitable punishment for his present attitude.

He felt guilty again.

But no less pissed.

“…Don’t get me started on you, Dickie,” Jason said, somewhat belatedly.

Dick dropped his hands, and, to his credit, didn’t pretend at ignorance, “Jason, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. It’s not like I have your number,” he added in a mumble, spiking Jason’s annoyance, because that what a shitty excuse.

“You saw me Monday morning. By the docks,” Jason accused, meeting Dick’s eyes with a twisted expression he couldn’t manage to keep off his face, but – his older brother just watched him vomit into a sink; there was hardly any justification left for hiding things now.

“Yeah. I saw you,” Dick said evenly, but his fingers were flexing and his shoulders were too straight. “All suited up, just sitting on a roof, keeping an eye,” he faltered, glancing away, swallowing. “You looked busy, though. I didn’t want to—interrupt—”

It was a testament to his discomfort that Dick wasn’t gesturing with his hands or stepping further into Jason’s space as he tried, only half-heartedly, to justify—

The man felt guilty as sin; Jason could see it all over his face, and Jason—

It was satisfying, dammit.

“Oh! The old ‘you were busy’-excuse. I love that one,” Jason said, attempting false humour, exaggerated sarcasm – something – and sounding only bitter.

“Jason—”

“How long, Dick?” Jason spat, dropping the attitude for all the aching desperation he felt curdling beneath the surface, even as he wasn’t sure it was more out of seriousness and less out of spite. Dick had practically frozen at the question, his blue eyes widening just a fraction – Jason noticed because he’d been looking for it. Tim, in his peripheral, had his own blue eyes fixed on Jason, having gone just as still.

“How long has he been dead, Dick?” Jason demanded, when the older man didn’t immediately answer.

“…It happened Sunday,” Dick’s voice was no louder than a whisper. “Sunday morning.”

The next moment Jason was heaving, eyes on the floor, where, apparently, he’d shattered the glass of water Dick had handed him before. He’d reached back, searching for the edge of the counter and gripping it with a steadying hand—

It was too soon—

—

—he’d wanted more time. He’d wanted to go back to—

—one of his many not-mothers—

—to ask her again – beg if he needed to—

Bruce couldn’t.

Jason couldn’t.

—but she’d told him “no,” and explained again, and Jason had left feeling—

Abandoned.

And betrayed.

And stupid.

But still desperate.

Still vaguely determined.

He’d meant to try again—he knew – he knew – what he’d been asking; the consequences of it – having gone through it himself, after all, but—

He hadn’t cared at the time.

He’d have agreed to do almost anything if she’d only said—

Yes.

—

It was too late, now.

“Jay…” Dick spoke, careful, and when Jason looked at him, he saw Tim at his side – shoulders hunched, looking small – and Dick’s hand loose around his wrist—

Jason looked back to the glass on the floor – to Tim – and back again – to where Tim had been standing—

“I’m sorry,” he blurted.

“Okay,” came the reply, and, Jason was startled to find, it had come from Tim instead of Dick, sounding perfectly amenable.

They stared at each other for several quiet seconds; Dick shifting his weight from one foot to another as the silence mounted.

“It’s Thursday,” Jason breathed, when the tail-end of their conversation suddenly came back to him. Eyes on Dick, he scowled.

“I know,” his older brother agreed.

“Were you just going to keep this from me?” Jason asked, surprising even himself with how despondent and broken he sounded. He didn’t know if he meant what he asked, or if it was the spite in his gut blindly accusing—

“No—”

“You saw me Monday—I was one building away!” Jason sounded to himself like he was pleading.

Dick had let go of Tim – who’d crossed his arms tightly over his chest, fingers hidden inside sleeves – raised his hands, but didn’t move them, “It was—” he griped, a burn at the back of his throat, “—still too fresh, for me—”

“Always about you—” Jason waved a hand, dismissive.

“I didn’t know how to tell you then!” Dick slammed one fisted hand onto the counter beside them. Tim jumped. “And yes, I didn’t want to,” he continued, heatedly, shooting a brief, accusatory glance at Tim. “I didn’t want to tell you out in the dark,” Dick came forward, too quick, words biting, “and the cold, wearing masks and using codenames—we’re a family!” despite having seen it coming, and trying to move, to back off, to avoid – Dick still managed grabbing Jason by his sweater. He held him there, pinned with his back against the counter, Dick’s forearms solid against Jason’s chest, and it was all Jason could do not to slip across the tiles and sink to the floor. He clutched at the lip of the counter, watched Dickie’s expression.

“I looked for you after,” Dick’s lashes were wet, “I checked your safe houses; I tried to find you,” his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I wanted to tell you – of course you deserve to know,” his tone held a modicum of resentment – towards Jason, towards Tim, for them thinking otherwise of him, but Dick couldn’t care less whether they realised that or not, just then. “I just didn’t know how you would react,” he shook his head, breaking his eye-contact with Jason, “and I wanted you safe,” the words came a little slower, a little quieter, but no less urgently, “and home—” and then his voice cracked, and Dick swallowed a breathy sob, his head falling forward, forehead touching his hands still holding tight to the fabric of his little brother’s clothing. “…when I did…”

…

…

…

Jason couldn’t calm the beat of his pulse, even though the knowledge that Dick could feel it made him nervous. Dick’s shoulders weren’t shaking. He didn’t sound like he was crying. Somehow that made it worse.

Jason let his head fall back. Blinked at the ceiling. He breathed in a shuddering breath, unable to suppress it, and Dick stayed, moving with his heaving chest.

“I’m so sorry…” Dick whispered.

“Dick…” Tim started, quietly, arms no longer stiff, posture less rigid and reserved. Coming closer, he lifted a hand to Dick’s shoulder, but didn’t make it all the way there, left his hand hanging in the air instead. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You never…you didn’t,” Jason watched as the kid swallowed, looked away, and, for the first time he looked like he was feeling the weighty consequences of his actions. “This is my fault…” he whispered.

With a sniff, Dick came upright, swallowing as his gaze met Jason’s – shiny, clear tear-tracks ran down his cheeks, making Jason’s breath hitch.

“No, Tim,” Dick said, wiping his face with the palms of both hands before facing him. Jason didn’t move even though he was let go. “You were right. We should have been here sooner.”

Tim didn’t say anything until Dick offered a small smile and Jason straightened himself out. “Okay,” came Tim’s eloquent reply.

“Well, you’ve said your piece,” the room felt suffocating, now that the adrenalin had faded and the heat ebbed. Jason couldn’t even feel angry at Dick anymore, after that display. Perhaps it truly had been nothing but spite egging him on before.

“Saturday,” Dick cut off, without looking back at him, needing to say this before they got kicked out. “The funeral, you should come—”

Jason grabbed him by the lapel of his jacket, shaking roughly; snarling, “Get out.”

“Not until you promise,” Dick countered, clasping Jason’s wrist and meeting his gaze almost fearlessly.

Jason glared, said, slowly and deliberately, “No.”

“He’s your father,” Dick said, maintaining his calm despite the turn of his mouth, the furrow of his brow, or the red rimming his eyes. The expression was jarring to Jason, but he made himself keep looking anyway.

“Don’t you dare,” Dick threatened, holding tighter, before Jason could reply – afraid he might repeat the “no.” “Of course he is.” A beat. “Was,” he amended quietly. “And I want you to be there. Tim wants you there. Cass, too. And Alfred,” Dick said like that was the clincher. “Please.”

Jason’s mouth felt thick like cotton, his throat sore and his stomach twisting, tongue heavy as lead—

“We need you there, too, Jay,” Dick kept whispering.

“Don’t reject him out of hand. He needs—”

“You’re part of the family—”

“—he needs his…his…little brother—s.”

“Please. Leave,” Jason said, when he could finally speak again, and let go of Dick’s jacket. His wrist slipped right out of Dick’s hand to fall to his side.

“Come on…” it was Tim’s voice, quiet, and in the corner of his vision – Jason having dropped his gaze to the floor – he could see Tim tugging Dick away by the arm. “…He needs some time, Dick…”

…

…

…

…

Distantly, he heard the door shut.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

Jason was only half-aware of himself as he walked – weary and heart sore – to the couch – shoving the coffee table aside with his foot, almost violently, rather than circling it—

—where he flopped down face first into the pillows. Crying.