#toxic jason if you squint but hes not toxic hes just wildly traumatized

[arkhamsbrat]

you were robbed of summer, i was robbed of you

jason todd x civilian reader

when jason left, your light did too. six years of your life spent attached at jason’s hip crumbled around you with one knock on your door, and a small shoe box of old journals and trinkets was placed in your hands. they told you the funeral was that next week. you barely had time to register that they told you how he really died. asked you to keep it to yourself.

that boy you spent your childhood with, running through dark allies and making the best of your shitty little lives was gone. the boy who read to you, sat in the gamestop and played the trial of mario kart with you til you got kicked out, gone. you didn’t even get to say goodbye. they didn’t even let you see him before they buried him.

at least the bastard pitied you was kind enough to let you visit Mr. Wayne’s graveyard. you left letters, flowers, anything that reminded you of him. there were too many times that Mr. Wayne found you passed out against his tombstone. you’d wake up back in your own home, unsure of how you got there. it didn’t matter.

the next four years were miserable, barely scraping by without a few trips to the hospital from your constant exhaustion. you made it, at least. got a little cat to give you something to motivate you. her name was robin. a little stray you found on your fire escape. jason would’ve loved her.

you could see it when you closed your eyes. jason sitting on your couch, crooked smile wide as robin climbed all over him. how he’d whisper to her when he thought you couldnt hear. you saw him everywhere, doing everything. because that’s where he should be.

heroes came back all the time. the flashes, superboy, impulse, even batman. what did you need to do to bring him back? what did you have to give up? did you need to tear yourself in two all over again just to get your best friend back?

these thoughts played over and over, every single day that passed. it got to the point where you could see little silver hairs sprouting out of your head after april passed. they got thicker in august, when you kneeled by the edge of your toilet and sobbed so hard you got sick. he should be 21 now, piss drunk on your ragged old couch and cackling at how you stumbled around.

you felt pathetic when robin came and nuzzled at your leg, meowing for your attention. you ran your fingers through her fur before pulling her into your arms, feeling her purr. “how dumb do i look right now, jayce?” you muttered to yourself, bitterly. “makin’ you real proud, i bet.”

you didn’t hear the boots hit against your fire escape, nor did you see red hood slink down to peer through your smudged windows. it’d become a habit of his, though he was disappointed you weren’t as aware of your surroundings as you should’ve been.

jason watched. almost nightly. thats more than what he thought he deserved. nearly threw up in his mask the first time he saw your grey streak, stress induced.

the two of you were strangers now, he reminded himself consistently. the boy you knew was long gone, and he strongly doubted you would ever accept any of his changes. he’d hoped you’d changed for the worst. maybe he’d find something he could move on from. something to hate you for. maybe he could throw away the letters he wrote to you in hopes that one day he could come to you. in hopes he’d be able to come home.

thats what he’d always found in you. he craved it- the simplicity of you. hell, he’d even take you yelling at him for being stupid. for leaving you. he’d find a home in that, as long as it was your voice raising at him. before he came back, he was afraid you’d forgotten. he’d hoped you didn’t, in a fucked up way he hoped you’d hurt the same way he did. that you’d never forgotten him.

he regretted those wishes the minute he saw you crying over a cheap cookie with a candle stabbed through, drunk off your own ass. the date didn’t even cross his mind when he landed, only looking to check in on you. he had to fight back his own tears when it dawned on him. even now, you cared about his birthday?

if he wasn’t so stupid you wouldn’t be alone. if he didn’t care so much, if he didn’t go to-

you looked up before he got to finish any of his thoughts, letting out a shrill scream when you saw the masked vigilante on your fire escape. if he wasn’t so upset he would’ve laughed at how fast you grabbed your cat and raced to your bedroom, nearly tripping against the toys strewn about the floor. he’d wanted to mock you about how you spoiled that cat. jason wanted to be with you again. to be normal with you.

he’d never see you again if he could just tell you that you’re what got him through it all. it’s always been you, always will be. thirty minutes pass while he contemplated if he deserves to be selfish with you before he just said fuck it. he slid your window open and slipped through, searching for your room.

he’d get on you about actually locking the damn window later.

jason couldn’t find it in him to care about hiding that it was him. it was you he was telling. no matter the fear blooming from deep withinin him, he knew you’d see him. trust him. love him, if he let you.

the red hood mask got thrown onto your couch while he scrambled to your door. he knew you could hear his footsteps, probably scared shitless. how was he supposed to start this?

“been a long time…” he spoke, barely able to mask the shake in his voice. “i didn’t… i didn’t think you’d still think about me, honestly. i hoped you did, but… everyone else seemed to replace me. shoulda known you never would’ve…” jason couldn’t feel how his whole body shook as he kept speaking, barely remembering when he slid down to the floor.

“thought about you every god damn day, y’know? always wanted to tell you that. wondered if you went to school. if you were still damn awful at chemistry… did’jya start workin’ at that little cafe? said y’would once you turned sixteen…” he rambled on, tears spilling down his scarred cheeks. “i know y’don’t know me anymore… y’lost your jason… but i probably lost my you too… y’look miserable. that my fault too?”

jason heard the floorboards creak from the other side of the door. a quiet shuffling, alongside a very upset meow as a cats paw swiped under the door, catching at his jeans. he laughed quietly, setting his hand down so the cat could paw at him instead of the jeans that he just stole off some douchebag that tried to mug a mother thrifted. he felt his whole body tense when you finally spoke. “her name’s robin… thought jason would’ve liked that. none’a this is his fault.”

“i do.” he pressed his head against the door, seconds away from begging you to open it. a cat… you named your scraggly ass cat after him. you sounded exhausted- if he could snap his fingers and take it all from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat. “jason’s dead… they said he got killed by…” he let out a sharp sigh. “i wanted to come back to you, i swear. it’s a real long story.”

he heard more shuffling behind the door, and then a click. your head peeked through the crack. “…i never make plans on your birthday…i have time?” for the first time in a long time, jason felt a small smile pull at the corner of his mouth. “are you gonna remember any of this in the morning, drunkard?”

his grin widens when you shrug, teary eyes boring into his. “then i get to see you for the first time all over again. jackass.”