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froggibus · 2 years ago

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Resurrection - Wally West

Pairing: Wally West x gn! Reader, platonic! Dick Grayson x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: it’s been almost a year since Wally died, and life has not been kind to you. it doesn’t help that when you get the flu and your fever spikes, you start seeing the speedster everywhere you turn

CW: loss of a loved one, grief, sickness, hallucinations, reader is worried they’re going crazy, overactive imagination, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, panic attacks, ghosts, reader was a part of Young Justice, mutual pining, friends to lovers, resurrection

This alludes heavily to the Young Justice tv show, especially Wally’s death. I apologize in advance because I have poor knowledge of the Flash Family and speedforce!!

day 1 of me pushing my Wally West agenda!! i absolutely adore Wally, and im so happy to be writing about him. this is literally the longest thing ive ever posted on this site but I got so into the story that I couldn’t stop. hopefully this makes sense and isn’t just a jumble of words 😭also i think from now on im gonna include wally in any of my dick/jason/tim hcs

also im very tempted to do a pt2/make a series of wally adapting to life afterwards

————

You groan in your bed, your fever spiking to an almost unbearable temperature. You spend a lot of time in bed nowadays—ever since your best friend died almost a year ago, you haven’t had the drive to do much. But being sick the past week has only confined you to your bed even more.

You roll over, hoping the other half of your pillow is somehow cooler than the side you’re on now. It’s not, and your body feels like it’s going to overheat. If it was possible to put less clothing on, you would, but the chances of your roommate coming in and seeing you naked are too high.

Speaking of your roommate, you know that when Dick comes home and sees how bad your temperature has gotten, he’ll rush you to the hospital. Paranoid, big brother Dick who insists he can’t lose another friend. Dick, who moved in with you a few months after Wally died because he was afraid you might hurt yourself. Dick, who forced you to put socks on and keep most of your clothes on because even though you feel hot, he knows you’re still vulnerable to the cold.

The socks scratch at your ankles now and you long to pull them off, lazily dragging your feet together. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm your burning nerve ends.

As much pain as you’re in, this is the most you’ve felt since Wally died. From the day you watched him get vaporised, everything around you has just gotten duller by the day. You can hardly stomach to put on your costume, let alone look at Barry or Bart. Even seeing The Flash on the news is enough to make you sick.

“Y/n,” a soft voice echoes from the bed next to you.

You force your eyes open, your dark room greeting you. “Hello?”

There’s no answer, and you’re able to close your eyes again. You relax into your bedsheets, kicking the blankets off of your legs in a desperate attempt to get some relief. Clearly your fever has spiked to the point where you’re losing it.

“Y/n!” The voice is stronger now, and it sounds more desperate than before. More than that—there’s something familiar to it.

You open your eyes again and gasp, all of the breath leaving your body. There, sitting on the bed next to you, is Wally. His green eyes are full of concern, his mouth pulled into a tight line.

“Oh god,” you whine, “I really am losing it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the hallucination of your dead best friend to go away. How could any god be so cruel to inflict this on you? Knowing how you felt about Wally—and what he’d said to you during your last moments together?

When you open your eyes again, he’s still sitting there. His unruly red hair is falling into his face and all you want is to reach out and brush it away.

“You’re not losing it,” he says.

“I’m so sick that I’m hallucinating my dead best friend. How is that not losing it?”

He shrugs. “I mean it does sound pretty crazy, but I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re dead,” you say simply, voice void of emotions. “You died and you left and you’re never coming back.”

“I got better.”

Everything about him screams Wally. His voice, his mannerisms, even the stupid jokes he makes. But you know it’s just your brain playing a stupid trick on you. Your braincells have overheated and you’re left staring at a ghost.

“No, you didn’t. And you never will, Wally. And I know that so I don’t get why my stupid brain can’t leave this alone.”

He lays down on his side next to you, looking up at you with those doe eyes. “There wasn’t a body, you know.”

His words make you angry, they make you choke on the lump in your throat. But he’s right. Something about his death always seemed wrong to you, and even after this long, you still can’t accept it. He’s saying all of the right things, and it almost makes you believe he’s really here.

“So say you are here…why now? Why here? Why am I the only one who’s seen you?”

He strokes his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “I don’t really know, y/n. I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve watched everything. I know how hard things have been for you guys…”

You don’t say anything, just staring at him expectantly, forcing him to keep talking.

“I’m sorry you’re sick, but I’m glad Dick is taking care of you.”

“Answer the question, Wally. Why now?”

He sighs. “I think it’s because you’re sick. I think once your fever got past a certain point you were able to hear me, and once you could hear me, you could see me.”

“How would that even work?” You squint at him, “how did you even know I could hear you?”

“I didn’t it’s just—it’s a habit to talk to you, you know? But anyway, I think it has something to do with the speed force being attracted to the release of energy, and whenever you have a fever, you release massive amounts of it. But since yours is so high…” he gestures at himself for emphasis.

“So as long as I stay sick, I can see you?”

“I think so.”

“Then I never want to get better,” you murmur.

“Y/n,” he sighs, and the tone he uses makes you freeze. You’ve only ever heard him use it once before—with you on the day he died.

The thought brings a tear to your eye, his words echoing in your ears. I love you, y/n, I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?

When Dick gets home from work, he’s surprised to hear you talking. His first instinct is that you’re feeling better and you’re arranging to go back to work, but as he gets closer to your bedroom door, he realizes it’s not the case.

He listens in for a bit, hearing a one sided conversation. As soon as he hears you say ‘Wally’, he’s barging through your door only to find you talking to the air.

“Dick!” You cry out, gesturing to the empty bed next to you, “look! He’s back, he’s here. Wally’s here!”

Dick’s heart aches for you. You’re clearly unwell and in your feverish state, your mind is playing tricks on you.

“Y/n,” Dick sighs, “I think it’s time we go to a doctor.”

He approaches your bedside slowly, trying not to startle or upset you. He knows you’re hallucinating, and he really doesn’t want to trigger anything worse to happen.

He kneels at your bedside, just behind Wally. “Come on, we need to get you to the hospital.”

“N-no! I can’t leave Wally!”

Wally’s face crinkles up the way it always has when he feels guilty. “Y/n, I think you should go with Rob.”

“No!” You cry out, “you can’t leave me again!”

Dick gives you no warning before he’s pulling you into his arms, your feverish skin scorching his. He holds you securely, even as you cry and beg him to take you back to Wally.

“Wally, please! Do something! Let him see you! Don’t—don’t leave me again!”

“Y/n,” Dick rubs your sweaty hair out of your face. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re really sick, and you’re hallucinating, but we’ll make you all better. I just need you to trust me.”

You take a deep breath, and then another, looking over Dick’s shoulder at the redhead sitting on your bed, giving you a sad look. He gives you a wave, “it’s okay, y/n. Everything will be okay.”

You just hope he’s right.

—

The hospital takes an eternity to admit you, leaving you lying on Dick’s lap in the waiting room. You keep your eyes closed, hoping that if you open them Wally will be there, but you know he won’t.

Dick strokes your hair, rubs your back, does anything he can to keep you comfortable. When a nurse finally calls your name, he helps you to your feet and half carries you down the hall.

They leave the two of you in a small, isolated room with a bed covered in scratchy sheets. Dick helps you climb up while the nurse insists a doctor will be by shortly.

Dick holds your hand the whole time, the skin on his palm turning sweaty from where your hand touches his. Your fever has only gone up since you left the house and you feel like you’re going to burn alive.

Finally, a doctor comes in and she starts to run all kinds of tests on you. After a while, they insert an IV into your arm and push fluids to keep you hydrated. They give you medicine to help you drift off to sleep, your eyes fluttering shut before you realize what’s happening.

You wake up a few hours later, Dick no longer asleep at your bedside. Your temperature has gone down, and while you still feel feverish, you’re coherent enough to know what’s going on around you.

“—hallucinating our best friend who died almost a year ago.” Dick tried to keep his voice down but you can hear it from the hallway.

“It’s common in extremely high fever’s to experience visual, auditory and sometimes even tactile hallucinations,” the doctor explains. “Y/n’s fever was beyond high enough to cause any number of these complications.”

Your shoulders slump. You knew deep down that Wally wasn’t really there, that he was a hallucination, but a part of you just hoped…

“But it’s going to be alright? There’s not any permanent side effects?”

The doctor sounds tired of Dick’s questions. “No, we’re keeping y/n overnight for observation but there shouldn’t be any long term side effects.”

Dick thanks the woman and slips back into your room, stopping in his tracks past the door when he realises you’re awake. “How are you feeling?” He whispers.

“Somewhat better,” you admit. “Not hallucinating anymore.”

He sits in the chair next to your bed and squeezes your hand. “That’s good to hear.”

“I-I’m sorry if I upset you earlier…talking about Wally and everything. I just—it seemed so real, you know? He was right there, Dick.”

“I know. You don’t need to apologize. Your mind was playing tricks on you, n/n. I know you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

You can’t help the tears that trickle down your cheeks. “I just—I miss him so much!”

“It’s okay,” Dick leans over your bed, pulling you tightly to his chest. “I miss him too. I miss him so, so much. And if there was any chance…you know I would take it too.”

“Did I ever tell you what he said to me that day? Just before he passed?”

Dick shakes his head.

“He said—,” your voice shakes so severely it’s hard to get the words out. “He said ‘I love you, y/n. I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?’”

The gears in Dick’s brain click together, and suddenly everything makes sense. It was no secret that you and Wally had been pining after each other for years. Always cuddling and fighting and loving and hating each other. Dick was close to both of you, and he of all people knew how your feelings were bubbling over. He knew how badly you wanted to be with Wally—and how badly Wally wanted to be with you.

It’s a cruel joke, he thinks. That in one day you got everything you wanted, and an hour later had it ripped away. No wonder you’d been like a zombie this year.

“Y/n…” he squeezes your hand reassuringly.

You squeeze his hand back, and between the fever and the medicine and Dick’s skin on yours, everything in the world feels right for a minute.

—

It takes two weeks for you to fully recover from being sick. If it weren’t for your roommate being the ultra rich adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, you probably would have had to go back to work sooner. Dick insisted that you stay home until you were fully recovered, though, offering to cover your bills for the month.

It’s also been two weeks since you saw Wally. It’s been easy to brush it off as a fever dream, but something deep within you wants it to be something more than that. Still, you try to continue on with your day to day life, putting thoughts of the speedster as far away from you as possible.

You pull into the Bludhaven News parking lot with ten minutes to spare. You grab your bag from the passenger seat and clip your badge to your shirt before grabbing the coffee you’d stopped for on the way. You’re determined to make today a good day.

You settle in at your desk, smiling at the picture of you and the original Young Justice team was kids. It makes you happy, but in the most bittersweet meaning of the word. You run your fingers across the glass, stopping them at the lightning symbol on Wally’s chest.

You’re interrupted by your boss stopping at your desk.

“Hey, l/n, good to have you back,” she smiles, and you feel as though she really means it. “We’re having a meeting in five minutes.”

You nod, thanking her. She leaves you at your desk, letting you get organized before you have to meet them in the conference room.

You bring your laptop and coffee and settle in at the big round table in the spinning desk chair. Other journalists, reporters and higher ups slowly file into the room, filling it up until it’s so full it feels almost hard to breathe.

Your boss enters the room last, standing at the front in front of the tv. She welcomes you back before explaining what’s going on in current events, and what she expects everyone to report on.

You sip your coffee, zoning out for the majority of her presentation. Every once and a while, she clicks a remote and the screen changes to a new slide. You don’t pay much attention to the tv, only glancing at it every so often.

When the screen changes to three familiar figures, you freeze. It feels like someone dumped cold water on you, and you’re painfully aware of everything going on around you.

The screen shows Wally, Bart and Barry on the day he died. Wally has a big grin on his face, clad in his Kid Flash suit, giving a salute to a security camera. You’re not sure how they got this picture, but a part of you wishes they didn’t.

“—the one year anniversary since the Flash Family saved the world, and since Kid Flash bravely sacrificed himself to achieve this goal. We want to honour them for their ultimate sacrifice, and that’s why this month, we’ll be doing daily pieces on the great exploits of the family. Also—,”

Her words echo in your ears, everything feels far away from you. The only thing you can focus on is the way your heart is pounding and the way all the air is sucked out of your lungs. Wally’s face stares at you from the tv screen, and the walls close in.

You’re on your feet in an instant. “Pardon me,” you rasp out, before almost running out of the room.

You’re not sure where you’re going. Your head is spinning, your heart is racing, everything is fading away. You stumble your way into the bathroom, locking the door behind you before your knees buckle and you hit the floor.

You claw at your throat, desperate for air. You squeeze your eyes shut, clenching your fists, desperate for pressure. When you open your eyes, you swear Wally is there.

“You’re not here,” you gasp. “You’re not real.”

Wally’s green eyes are wide, staring at you with concern. “Y/n—,”

“You’re not real! You’re just some ghost—fucking haunting me for no reason at all!”

It breaks his heart to see you like this. So sad, so hurt, barely able to breathe.

“Stop,” you choke out, “stop haunting me! Stop, stop, stop it!”

Wally hasn’t seen you have a panic attack this bad since you were kids. Curled up in a ball, gasping for air and repeating the same word over and over again. He’s desperate to help you—help you like he did back then.

He doesn’t even register what he’s doing until he pulls you into his lap, arms tight around your waist. He keeps a hand over your heart, tracing circles over it.

“Y/n, y/n…” He murmurs softly, “y/n, listen to me. Deep breath in, okay? Follow my example, feel my heart beating.”

You’re not sure how you can feel his arms on you, feel his heart beating against your back. You’re half convinced you’ve already fainted, and you’re laying on the bathroom floor having another fever dream.

Still, you follow his example. You breathe in when you feel his chest rise, and breathe out when you feel his chest fall. You stay silent for a few minutes, leaning completely against Wally until you can breathe again.

Wally rubs your hair, his other hand tracing circles on your hip bone. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Better,” you admit.

It takes a few minutes longer for either of you to register that he’s touching you. His hands are on your body and you can feel them.

“Wally, you’re touching me.”

“I’m touching you?”

The shock is almost enough to send you back into a panic attack. Ghosts can’t touch people, neither can fever dreams. But somehow, someway, Wally West is holding you in his arms.

—

You leave the bathroom ten minutes later, after you and Wally went back and forth on if he was really there with you or not. You insist you’re losing it, but Wally insists he’s there, and somehow when you were sick, you connected to the speed force and now you can see him.

You head back to your desk with no intention of working, set on researching the speed force and if it’s possible to connect to it without being a speedster. Of course, Google doesn’t yield the results you hope, so you decide to go a different route.

You pull out your phone and text Dick.

You: do you think you could get me Barry’s number? need it for work

Robin 1.0: I think I can manage

You: you’re the best

Robin 1.0: don’t you know it

It only takes a few minutes before he texts you his contact for Barry Allen. You waste no time in opening the contact and sending him a quick text.

Of course, you don’t get to see what he responds because suddenly your boss is over your shoulder.

“Y/n, you know what our policy is on personal devices at work. There’s too much sensitive information here.”

“I know, I know. But if I play my cards right,” your ability to think on your feet coming in handy, “I could get us an exclusive interview with the Flash.”

She lights up at that. “Okay, but remember, no pictures or recordings.”

“Sure thing,” you nod and wait for her to leave before opening up your phone and seeing that you have a new text.

You: can I ask you a few questions on the speed force?

Barry Allen: sure thing

You: i know the speedforce is like it’s own separate thing that speedsters connect to, but is it possible for non speedsters to connect to it?

Barry Allen: only under extenuating circumstances. not every ordinary person can just connect to it, but if you’ve been in contact with the speedforce unwittingly or if a speedster has accidentally shared particles with you it’s possible. why?

You: just…a theory im working on for work. we’re doing a piece on Flash Family to honour you guys for saving the world and I wanted to look into it more

You: thank you

Barry Allen: do you think you’ve been in contact with a speedster recently?

You: i don’t know, if I’m being honest.

Barry Allen: okay…keep me updated, okay? if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask

You: thanks

You frown, your conversation with Barry only making you feel more confused. How would you have had contact with a speedster or the speedforce? It’s been almost a year since you last touched Wally, and there’s no way the symptoms are only coming out now. And the speedforce—there’s no way for you to have connected with it either.

You look up from your phone only to see Wally sitting on your desk, looking at you with amusement. “Get what you wanted?”

“Why are you still here?”

“What?” He holds his hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “You don’t want me here?”

You go to speak but realize your coworkers are giving you strange looks. You quickly put your phone up to your ear, pretending to be on a phone call.

“Of course I want you here. I lo—miss you, okay? But it’s not possible. You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I am, y/n. And did Barry not just confirm that to you?”

You sigh. “I will admit, what Barry said does confirm my theory, and what you said while I was sick but…”

“But?”

“It shouldn’t be possible. You were vaporized, Wally. You’re dead. So even if you are here, you’re just a ghost.”

“Ghost, schmost,” he rolls his eyes, leaning in to flick your arm. “Does that not feel real to you?”

“I don’t know, okay? Just—I need time to think. About everything.”

You don’t say it, but it lingers in the air: I need time to think about you.

You put your phone down, indicating to the boy that you’re done talking, before returning to your job. The day goes by fast when you’re contemplating if you’re actually being haunted by the ghost of your best friend or not.

Before you know it, you’re heading home. When you get through the door of the apartment, Dick is nowhere to be found. He must still be at work, you think.

You kick off your shoes and set your bag on the counter before throwing yourself on your bed. You lay down for only a minute before a familiar cologne fills your scent. One you haven’t smelled in a long time.

You don’t need to open your eyes to know that Wally is back. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping I could catch you changing,” you can hear the grin in his voice.

You sit up, staring at him with wide eyes. “Wait—if you’ve been here this whole time then…?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I didn’t! I mean, I thought about it but…it feels wrong.”

“More wrong than confessing your love to me and then dying?”

Both of you freeze after that, and your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can force the words back in there.

“I—y/n…you know that if I had a choice, I would have come back to you. Right?”

You nod, “I know. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he places a hand over yours. “I wanted to come back to you. Even though you didn’t say it back, I just thought—”

“You didn’t give me a chance to say it back! You dumped all that on me and then you ran away and left, Wally! You didn’t give me the chance!”

Your outburst surprises both of you. Wally isn’t sure what to do—if he should apologize or be angry or both or neither. So he says nothing.

“I-I think you should go, Wally. You’re only doing harm by being here. You’re dead and I need to move on and I never will if you’re just here haunting me.”

You expect him to argue or to make a joke, but the boy doesn’t do any of that. He gives you a lazy, one handed salute, like the kind he would give before speeding away as kids.

And then he disappears.

You feel sad and angry all at the same time. You know it’s not fair to Wally to lash out at him like that, but how is it fair for him to open up old wounds? For him to haunt you?

When Dick gets home, he’s surprised to see you dressed in your old costume. It’s been so long since you put it on, you look almost strange to him.

“Uh, y/n?” He asks, “not that I’m against this but, what’s up with the costume?”

“I was thinking I could go out on patrol with you tonight,” you explain. “It’s been a while. I need to blow off steam.”

“Okay, let me get changed.”

That’s good enough for you, so you settle in at the counter and wait for Nightwing to suit up. He comes out a few minutes later, clad in the black and blue Nightwing suit.

He looks at you seriously through his domino mask. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“If I don’t get out, I’ll go stir crazy.”

“Okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender. “But don’t push yourself, okay? And I’ll be there the whole time.”

“Alright, dad,” you roll your eyes. “Let’s go.”

—

Patrol goes fine. It’s just the usual robberies and gang violence, nothing that you and Nightwing can’t handle. Of course, that’s until you hear there’s a bank robbery over the scanner.

The two of you are about to take off and head towards the bank when you hear the radio go off again. This time, it’s a jewellery store being robbed.

“Go!” You say to Nightwing, “you get the bank, I can handle the store.”

He seems content with that answer, grappling to the nearest rooftop and heading off towards the bank. You turn and head towards the jewellery store, hoping it’s enough to take your mind off of Wally.

You get to the store just in time to stop the robbers from shooting the owner. You knock the gun out of one of their hands, turning to fight the other one. There’s five total, maybe six, but your vision is tunnelling and all you can focus on is the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your need for a distraction.

You make your way through three of them, and just as you turn to fight the fourth, you hear someone yell from behind you.

“Y/n, look out!”

You knock out the fourth and turn around, just in time to see Wally West pass through you and punch the man in the face. He hits him hard enough to send him falling to the floor.

You stare at Wally in shock. “You—you hit him!”

“Are you okay?” He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You saved me…” You mutter. “How did you do that?”

“I-I don’t know,” he admits, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt and then I passed through you and—”

“Dick!” You exclaim, realising you haven’t heard anything from him in a while, and that he still hasn’t returned to you. “Somethings wrong, Wal. We—I gotta go!”

Wally goes to protest, but you’re already running away. Not only are you running away, you’re running at the speed of light, yellow lightning crackling from your ankles. You don’t realize it, too focused on getting to Dick.

You arrive at the bank to see a bunch of lackeys passed out on the floor. Nightwing is leaning on a counter, holding his hands over a bullet hole in his side.

“Hey!” You cry out, skidding to a stop next to him. The bank smells gross, like gunpowder and..burning rubber? “Are you okay? Did you get them all?”

He clenched his jaw. “All but one. He headed North, there’s no way we’ll catch him. He’s probably out of town by now.”

“No, he’s not going to get away with this. We’re going to find him.”

And before Dick can ask, you’re tearing away from the bank, lightning in your wake. His jaw falls open at the sight. In the dark, with the speed you’re going and the lightning coming out, you almost look like Wally…

You run as fast as you can, keeping your eyes peeled for the man driving the truck of jewels. You catch up to him in no time, throwing your body weight against the truck fast enough to tip it over.

Your veins are electrified, pure lightning in your system, better than adrenaline ever could be. You rip the man out of the truck and toss him onto the street. It only takes one hit for you to knock him out, and only a few more seconds to tie him up.

It’s then that you realize what just happened, how fast you were going. You look down to see the soles of your shoes on fire, the thighs of your costume torn open from the fabric chafing so fast.

Something about the ruined shoes and the torn fabric makes you think of Wally, and the thought of the ghost in the bank saving your life only makes you want to run even more. Is this how he felt everytime he ran? It’s exhilarating, it only makes you want more.

You keep running, running straight up the side of a building before stopping in your tracks on the roof. How did this even happen? You look around, half expecting to see Wally there, but he’s not.

Your legs quiver, threatening to collapse beneath you. Your feet ache from all of the running and your shoes have practically disintegrated into nothing. You know you’re done for the night, your body at its absolute limit.

Your knees buckle, but before you can hit the ground, there’s a streak of yellow and suddenly Wally is holding you up against his chest.

“I—what’s going on?” You ask.

Wally holds you up with one arm, staring at his other hand. He shakes it, going fast enough to make it seem as though his hand is vibrating.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I—something’s changed. I can feel it.”

You hear the unmistakable sound of a grappling hook before Nightwing is landing on the roof. “Holy shit, y/n. How were you going so fast? For a second there, I thought it was—Wally?”

His face pales at the sight of the redhead, clad in his Kid Flash suit, holding you up against his body. There’s no way he’s here now, alive and well, right in front of his eyes.

“You…you can see him?”

Dick is running across the roof in an instant, feet pushing him closer to his best friend. He jumps on both of you, arms wrapping around you both. “Wally,” he sobs into his shoulder. “How—how are you here?”

There’s another flash of lightning—red lightning—and suddenly The Flash is standing next to you guys. “I can answer that.”

Wally grins insanely wide, making sure you’re steady against Dick before jumping to hug his former mentor.

“How did you know I was here?” He asks.

Barry smiles, “I could feel it. In the speedforce. There was a huge amount of energy released and then for the first time in a year, I could feel you.”

“But how did that happen?” Dick interjects, before adding, “not that we’re not happy to see you.”

Wally goes back to hugging you, wiping off the tears that have slipped from your eyes and kissing the top of your forehead. “I think y/n here somehow borrowed my speed and-and opened a portal into the speedforce.”

“I brought you back?” Your voice is so quiet it’s barely a whisper.

“You brought me back!” He’s beaming at you.

He wraps his arms around your waist, spinning you in a circle. He sets you down on the ground, only to tip your head back and plant a kiss to your lips. It’s intense, passionate, full of the longing he’s felt for you since you were kids.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, using him to keep yourself up. His body is so warm and hard under your touch, so familiar to you. You draw him closer, not even caring if Dick and Barry are standing there staring at you.

When he finally pulls away, he flashes you the biggest smile in the world. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“So,” Dick awkwardly says, “why don’t we take this back to our place?”

Wally grabs your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “I think that’s a really good idea.”

#wally west #wally west x reader #wally west x you #wally x reader #kid flash #kid flash x reader #kid flash x you #young justice #young Justice x reader #young Justice x you #the flash #dick grayson

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constantinho · 8 months ago

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TW: Unreality

I haven't seen anyone else talking about this here so... there's this theory of The Boiled one Phenomenon going on saying that PHEN-228 is Jesus Christ. Now take a look at this ugly motherfucker:

There are spikes coming out of its head. If you look closely, it looks like he is wearing a crown made of them. Now, there's also this quote that he said while presumably communicating with Job Zamperini:

"Listen closely. Do you hear it? You will hear the laughter of thousands as the sky opens up. You will hear the trumpets play their happy sounds. The scalding blood of life will pour down onto us all. Together, we will be still. Together, a feast fit for a king. Together, welded by love and purest connection. Be still and feast-"

It's speech resembles much the second coming of Christ:

The trumpets refer to the seven trumpets that will sound at the end of the world, from the Book of Revelation

The laughter of thousands as the sky opens up refers to the living christians that would be caught up to meet the Lord in the air and be with him forever, as refered in Corinthians 15:51-54

"Together we will be still, welded by love and connection", in his resurrection, those who have died in Christ will have their redeemed souls and spirits united with a body similar to Christ's glorified body. Christians living at the time of this event will not die, but will be changed to be like Christ (John 3:2)

I know there's something here I'm missing about the blood coming out of the sky, so if any christians here on tumblr could help with this, it would be awesome!

Now, let's end this theory with another saying of PHEN-228:

"The very memory of my face will cause a manifestation of my being in the future. You will be asleep in bed. I will be there, and watch over you. When you wake, you will not be able to move any part of you. When the doctors eventually find you, they will not see me, but you will, and I'll see you too. Forever, I'll see you."

For those who watched the arg, it's obvious its refering to the locked-in-syndrome that PHEN-228 puts those that have seen his image. I believe that when he says that he will see them forever, he means in the sense that they shall be one for eternity, united, on pure connection that will be the unifying of the christians souls into one being as close to god as possible.

Now don't come asking me to explain this mf because I have no idea wth he is supposed to be-

#the boiled one phenomenon #the boiled one #phen 228 #theory #unreality

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 8 months ago

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full hc request: mc and m6 celebrating holi ?

(i am friendless this holi and i will cry over it)

-🫧 anon

The Arcana HCs: Celebrating Holi

~ most of this is based off of childhood experience celebrating in South Asia, thank you for resurrecting all the fun memories anon! ~

Julian

He loves the concept of it

A community event, full of color and celebration? Heck yeah! This extrovert is pumped and ready to spread the joy!

This extrovert is also a doctor

And this doctor is already gearing up for the aftermath - for all the people who caught cold running around in wet clothes, the injuries from hopping around on wet cobblestones and twisting ankles ...

... the overenthusiastic celebrants falling into the canals and bumping their heads, the kids who always end up licking the color powder and find out the hard way what they're allergic to ...

And of course, the mild panic he experiences for the next week seeing faded stains on his patient's skin and faces and briefly mistaking them for bruising

Seriously, why do bruises turn every color of the rainbow??

But all that aside, he's excited to celebrate with you and will even bend down so you can smear some color on his face and eyepatch

Asra

Oh, they are thriving

This is easily one of his favorite events of the year. This gets more planning and preparation time than ... most things, really

They insist on making (or at least, modifying) all of their own colors and stock up on everything from powder to paste to dyes they can mix with water and spray at passersby with a water gun

Some of them he enchants to be holographic. Others, to hover menacingly in the air and then engulf whoever walks close enough

It's one of the few times when all the kids in the neighborhood flock to them because they know that nobody will kit them out for a proper water fight like they will. It's on

His hair is going to have colors lingering in it for over a month

The magic use does get just a little bit out of control, sometimes - they've been politely asked to stay away from the town square, since the statues still occasionally puke neon rainbows

Will put a spell on you that morning so nothing can stain you

Nadia

Does she enjoy and look forward to this festival? Yes. Is she stressed beyond words? Also yes. She needs a break

The sheer logistics of organizing a national holiday aside, Holi is messy. The streets are full of people, traffic is impossible for the day, injuries are spiking from partying too hard, and the cleanup

Don't get her started on the cleanup

Vesuvia has plenty of white marble statues and fountains that end up coated in the rainbow every year (though it's gotten easier since a certain magician was banned from the town square)

Not to mention the series of legal cases afterwards when some merchant passing through sells a load of poor quality colors

That won't stop her from enjoying it with you. She'll set up the garden and spend an afternoon chasing you around with her palms covered in color, darting out to leave smudges on your cheeks

If she moves a little more slowly to ensure that she gets covered in your colors as well, then. That's for only her and the shrubs to know

Muriel

A festival so exciting and intense that crowds of people flood the streets and smear colors all over each other with abandon?

Yeah, you can count him out

The concept of celebrating color and the triumph of good over evil is delightful, but you both know that if he joins he'll suffer at best and have a full-blown panic attack at worst. Better not

He'll celebrate with you in his own way

You'll find a forest clearing, pull out all the environmentally friendly colors you've stocked up on, and goad him with rainbow fingerprints into a playful game of tag among the trees

His artistic side will make itself known, waiting for you to tire yourself out before he sits next to you and traces swirls and runes all over your arms and face with featherlight touches

Of course, this only works if you're distracted with something while he does, or else your eyes on him will make him freeze up and blush. (the shaky little smudges those cause are the best)

Portia

She adores Holi and she is Prepared

She knows all the tips and tricks to get through the day with as little misfortune as possible. Old, cheap clothes that you don't mind getting stained. Oil on your skin and hair before you go out

And of course, a mom bag stuffed to the brim, half with celebration essentials and half with mischief implements

You look tired and a little overstimulated. Here, wipe your face and hands with this damp towel and drink some water. She packed snacks - do you want a cookie or a sandwich?

You look like you could use an advantage. Here, take this dye filled water balloon and throw it at the nearest street sign - the partygoers underneath will have it in their hair for weeks

Her favorite celebration spots are right in the middle of wherever the kids are having their massive water fight. Nobody can amp up mediate one of those like she can

Will shamelessly cover your clothes in her handprints

Lucio

He loves it for the first fifteen minutes or so

A town-wide celebration that fills the streets? Heck yeah, he is all in and having the time of his life! He has permission to splash color all over random strangers? Awesome! He's going all out -

... until he starts to receive the same treatment, which means his hair is getting messy and his clothes are going to stain and there's dye all over his face and absolutely ruining his eyeliner

Yeah, he's done, and he's going to start sulking if he doesn't get a hot bath nice and soon

Mercedes and Melchior, on the other hand, are having the times of their lives. It's chaos dialed to the max and they love the chance to weave between people's legs and splash colors everywhere

Of course, they also have gorgeous long silky white fur, which gets absolutely saturated with pigments and dyes as they run wild

Bathing them afterwards is a legendary nightmare and the pastel hues linger on their backs for quite a while

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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jackassbrainrot · 2 months ago

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confession [knoxville x gn!reader]

a/n: day 2 - priest kink, inspired by his iconic 2004 driver license and by fleabag of course. it's a very cliche priest kink fic scenario but let me be

warnings: sacrilege, oral sex (m!receiving)

word count: 712

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." You said as you sat down in the confessional, trembling slightly for the first time since your first confession as a child. The little screen separating you wasn't enough to ease your anxiety, knowing you were so close to him. "It's been 6 months since my last confession." Six months since he came to your church. Six months since your mind got overtaken by thoughts of him.

"These are my sins." And with that, you took a deep breath, followed by a beat of silence as you collected your thoughts. You listed off the usual, everyday sins, but when it came time to confess what you really came for, you couldn't find the strength to say it. You shifted in your seat, taking another deep breath before speaking.

"I've been having lustful thoughts, Father." An understanding hum was heard from the other side of the confessional. "About... a priest." You could've sworn you heard him chuckle and you felt more exposed than ever in your life, even behind the screen.

"And what is it that you've been thinking about?" The smirk in his voice was apparent, almost taunting. It felt like the words were being pulled out of you by an invisible force, detailing all the late night thoughts of him taking you in various positions and various places in the church.

There was another moment of silence and your anxiety spiked, thinking you'd gone too far, offended him, disgusted him even. But just as your thoughts started racing, the door of the confessional opened, his lean figure standing over you, looking down with darkened eyes.

"Kneel." Was all he said, and you did, falling to your knees in front of him, eyes never leaving his. His fingers threaded through your hair as he unbuttoned his slacks and you came face to face with the subject of your late night fantasies. You opened your mouth expectantly and another chuckle left his mouth, running the tip against your lips before pushing in.

His dick hit the back of your throat, making you gag around it which pulled a low groan from his chest. He let you do the work, bobbing your head up and down rhythmically, almost in a daze, taking what you were given gratefully. You whined when he pulled his dick out of your mouth, keeping your head in place by your hair as you tried to chase the contact.

"Continue your confession." He all but growled, his usually warm eyes filled with lust, stroking his dick mere inches from your face. And so you did as he said, looking up at him with desperate eyes.

"My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against You whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with Your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy."

As soon as the last word of the prayer left your, his dick was hitting the back of your throat again. He fucked your mouth mercilessly as he prayed: "God, the Father of mercies, through the death and the resurrection of His Son has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins."

His words were getting breathier, his movement sloppier. "Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father" thrust "and of the Son" thrust "and of the Holy Spirit."

And with the last word, he came, painting the inside of your throat white. You swallowed gratefully, feeling closer to God than during any eucharist of your life. "Amen." You said as you wiped your spit slicked lips, getting up and watching Father Johnny straighten himself out.

Just as you were about to leave, squeezing past him through the confessional door, he grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks. He flashed you his signature smile, all teeth and southern charm.

"I hope to see you at confession again next week."

#hellooooo father johnny #yes I grew up catholic how did you know #johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville x reader #jackass fanfic #jackass fic #jackass x reader

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lavenderleahy · 2 months ago

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My husband joined me in my most recent rewatch of supernatural and we finally reached the finale. I refuse to watch it, but he did. Here is his reaction:

Recap didn’t have carry on 0/10

Daily life montage 8/10

Pie fest 5/10

Sam mourning more for Cass than Dean 0/10

Knife murderer that's just some guys 2/10

Still doing FBI gig after 15 years 2/10

Jack resurrected monsters 0/10

Dad's journal lol? 3/10

Weird monster torture porn 1/10

Ninja star setup 9/10

Clown Ambush 2/10

Jenny callback meh/10

Monologue Jenny kill 3/10

Spike through heart 0/10

Dean having to explain to Sam that he's dying -1/10

Dean's goodbye monologue opening 2/10

Dean telling Sam not to bring him back because "you know it always ends bad" -100/10

Dean's monologue closing 6/10

"I did not think this would be the day" yeah me neither/10

"I need you to tell me it's okay" 2/10

Head/hand touch weird/10

Jared crying unintentionally funny/10

Dean's funeral only attended by dog 1/10

Post Dean lonely Sam morning routine 7/10

Dean gets into Heaven 5/10

Bobby telling and not showing 0/10

"It's the Heaven you deserve" barf/10

Cass not stopping by to say hi 0/10

Does Dean's dad also have a copy of Baby or did Dean steal it?

Carry on finally 8/10

Old Sam very funny/10

Thank you to fans 10/10

No Ninja star payoff -9/10

Some notes: He is GA-ish, but he always listens when i pause and tell him about destiel. He doesn't actively ship destiel, but he perceives it. That being said, please don't judge him too harshly for spelling Cas wrong, he doesn’t know better.

#supernatural #spn #destiel #spn 15x20 #spn rewatch #finale what finale #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas

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clockedtomb · 27 days ago

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GtN Allusions: Page 8

Cavalier Absolutely should have done cavalier on page 7, but just didn't think of it. Middle French for horseman or knight, from the Latin for horse. Also means not caring enough about something important, like burning alive for ten thousand years.

Centurions Ancient roman infantry commander of units consisting of 100 (duh) or 80 (times is hard) legionaries. The centurion was responsible for disciplining other soldiers and also civilians, which I think Judith and Marta were clearly All About. Centurions carried a sword at their left side and a dagger at the right side. Centurions sometimes became lictors (which we'll get back to). Roman centurions had to be at least 30, literate, and experienced, and were expected to be strong, dexterous, skilled, and lorge.

There is a biblical story in the gospels of Matthew and Luke about a centurion who asks Jesus to heal his sick boyfriend-slave. It is usually not translated as boyfriend or slave but I've heard pretty compelling tell that the original very clearly refers to a slave that is also boyfriend. Jesus heals the boyfriend, and later the centurion is present at the crucifixion and attests to Jesus's divinity and/or innocence. This is painful for Corona reasons and also Teacher reasons, imo.

There is also a centurion called Julius who helps Paul go to Rome in the book of Acts.

Judith Deuteros Judith means "praised" and/or "Jewish woman." Judith was a brave and beautiful woman who was pissed at people for not trusting G-d enough. She, trusting G-d a frankly legendary amount, prays a lot and then goes into the enemy camp with her maid and casually beheads the Assyrian leader Holofernes. She takes the head back to her people and the Assyrians are like WOW I'm gonna go, so she's saved the day.

There are many excellent paintings of Judith slaying Holofernes but I am partial to this one by Artemisia Gentileschi because these women are gonna do what needs to be done.

An English play about this by Howard Barker has a scene called "The Unforeseen Consequences of a Patriotic Act" and if that isn't putting it mildly.

Deuteros is greek for the second or the other of two. This is a really interesting name to give the heir of the second rather than the cavalier, who should be the second of two. I think this could speak to Judith's inappropriate feelings for Marta, or of her devotion to Jod.

Marta Dyas Marta is a name derived from Aramaic, meaning "lady." There was also a 547 AD Battle of Marta in Tunisia involving a guy called John but it's a stretch. I feel strongly that I'm missing something here.

Dyas has so many interesting false positives that cannot possibly be related and I'm going to share some of them for fun. Dyas is an oil and gas company. Dyas was an 11th century Indian King. Dyas is a surname used in England and Ireland (there have been a couple athletes with this name). Dyas is also just related to the Greek for two of the same, a pair.

The Procession A procession is when a bunch of people walk together in a ceremonial or formal way and what a weird nickname for your house.

Processions were part of major religious festivals in classical Greece and Rome, especially in the cult of Dionysus and in the ritual of Triumph. This got adopted into early Christian practice and processions became associated with ritual performances of the crucifixion and resurrection and with everyday mass and things like weddings and funerals. I mean frankly what doesn't have a procession these days!! Processions were part of what Luther was mad about, and Luther would probably hate the Third so that's valid.

Coronabeth Tridentarius Corona means crown or garland, from Latin. It can refer to the sun's outer atmosphere, the part that's brilliant and shiny. COVID is called a coronavirus because its spike proteins form a corona or halo around the body of the virus, resembling the sun.

Beth is a Kiss song from 1976 from the album Destroyer. Oh Beth, what can I do? It's also a common shortform of Elizabeth, famously the name of two English queens who did some pretty memorable queening. Beth El is a Hebrew phrase meaning "house of G-d" in which beth is a transformation of beit, home.

Tridents are three-pronged fishing spears; the name comes from latin "three teeth." They are associated with Poseidon/Neptune in classical mythology. Poseidon was associated with the sea, storms, springs (water), earthquakes, and horses; Neptune was also associated with heaven.

-ari is a Latin suffix that makes nouns into names.

-ius is a Latin suffix that makes something an adjective indicating that the thing being described is "made of" or "belongs to" the noun.

Together tridentarius seems to be a construction that does The Trident People Name. Which basically does what it says on the tin.

Ianthe Tridentarius Ianthe means "purple flower" in Greek.

Once upon a time in Greek and Roman mythology there was a boy named Iphis who was secretly assigned female at birth but raised as a boy. When Iphis his dad arranges a marriage between Iphis (who he doesn't know is secretly, classically trans) and a girl named Ianthe. Iphis is SO in love with Ianthe. Iphis's mom tries to delay the wedding, but eventually the wedding was going to happen, so Iphis and the mom go to a temple to Isis to pray for help. Iphis is miraculously transformed and marries Ianthe and they live happily ever after.

Tridentarius is still The Trident People Name.

Naberius Tern Naberius is a demon. He is a Marquess of Hell, commanding many legions of demons. Naberius has the body of a three-headed dog or bird. He's a bit of a fop and is super talented at rhetoric and the arts and sciences. He speaks quietly. This is my favorite picture of him.

Stuff I found about Naberius the demon said he's the same as Cerberus the three-headed hell dog but I don't think this association goes both ways.

I was real confused at first about how tern functions as a house name for Babs. A tern is a sea bird. There's a lot of them. But the name doesn't mean three. Here's a black tern. I think it's pretty.

Etymonline says the name of a tern comes from Old Norse for "maid-servant" but etymonline also saved me, because the entry for ternary (threefold) mentions that a tern or terne is a dice throw with three dice or a prize in a lottery with three winning numbers. Why isn't this in the entry for tern!? Babs as the prize seems to be happening for a lot of GtN, and Babs as a throw of three dice works for me on a poetic level. I'm into this.

Isaac Tettares Isaac is the biblical son of Abraham and Sarah. Abraham was supposed to be the father of a great nation, but his wife Sarah was infertile for many years. When Abraham is A HUNDRED YEARS OLD, after decades of not being able to have a child together, Sarah has Isaac. He is personally promised to them by G-d. I absolutely cannot overstate how wanted and loved this child was. Then G-d instructs Abraham to sacrifice Isaac in place of a lamb, as a test of faith. Abraham takes Isaac up to the place where the sacrifice is to take place. He puts his son on the alter, trussed up like a sacrificial lamb. He raises a knife over his head. And G-d is like wow. WOW. Do not. Can you imagine. Good job, absolutely but wow do not, yikes. Thank you <3 and then they just go on with the rest of their lives as father and son?? But Sarah immediately dies. Sometimes it's said that someone told her what happened carelessly and she was scared to death. If you would like to listen to a short and heart-wrenching song about the binding of Isaac and its emotional aftermath, I recommend this one.

Tettares is an Anglicization of the Attic Greek word for four.

Jeannemary Chatur A Google search for "Jeannemary" returns exclusively TLT related results and I think TM may have made this name herself.

Jeanne is a French given name equivalent to Joan/Jane/Jean in English, and rooted in the Hebrew name Yochanan (also the source of John!) meaning "G-d is Gracious." I suspect that the reference here is to Jeanne d'Arc, who believed in G-d the absolute most.

Mary refers to roughly 1/5 of women in the bible and half of all queens.

Chatur is a name derived from Sanskrit. I wasn't able to find reliable information on its etymology.

Abigail Pent Abigail is a Hebrew name referring to a father's joy. The biblical Abigail was a prophetess and the wife of King David. She was wise and is described as one of the most beautiful women ever (Isaac's mother Sarah is one of the others).

Pent is a prefix referring to the Greek for five.

Magnus Quinn Magnus is "great" in Latin. A bunch of kings of Norway and Sweden have been called Magnus. There are also SEVEN saints called Magnus. The Magnus effect in physics describes lift that affects a spinning object moving through fluid. I don't know which if any of these is a reference.

Quinn gives me a liiiiittle trouble as a house name. Quinn is an Irish surname that's usually Catholic with two Ns and Protestant if only one N. Quint refers to a fifth, and quin refers to quintuplets. I find Quinn a stretch.

#the locked tomb #gideon the ninth

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 1 year ago

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Part 5 - dare not preach

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

Masterlist Part 4

"And If I had the answers I'd have written them out so I could tell you what to do and what this thing is about. But all I've ever learned comes second-hand and I dare not preach what I don't understand." -Make A Move by Icon For Hire

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Content warning: briefly implied child abuse (Vlad is not a good guy by any definition),

Time was lost in between bouts of consciousness, flashes of pretty eyes and fire hair, soft muttering and gentle caresses against his skin soothing his aches.

Jason was caught between heaven and hell, wracked with agony behind his ribs one moment and healed with persistent warmth the next, a never ending cycle.

He wanted to scream.

One bout of semi-clarity was of some citrus concoction on his tongue, gentle murmurs of a woman by his ear before she kissed him again, forced something down his throat again.

He both loved and hated that woman. She felt familiar in a way that made his bat-honed paranoia rear its ugly head, the instinct to survive in his gut a heavy weight, but she brought him peace in the same moment she could damn him.

He caught his name once, his real name, spoken by her as he swallowed dutifully, a spike of want in his heart almost a welcome change from the pain by that point.

————————————————

Jazz spoke with the Lady frequently as the Red Hood, Jason, healed in her bed.

The elder spirit, regal in mannerisms and aura, demanded the Regent to aid this one vigilante, this one knight and Jazz had finally figured out why.

It was so obvious when she had all the puzzle pieces, the depth of occult knowledge both in her brain and at her disposal should have been her first resource used to dig deeper, but she’d allowed Danny and Frostbite to assume (and let her assume) that the Red Hood was an awakened Liminal who was recovering from corrupted Ecto in his system.

The Red Hood had been Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin- bright light of Gotham- and he’d been murdered by the Joker.

Unburied in my soil.

Jazz groaned in self-contempt as she paced the graveyard of Gotham’s Crime Alley. It was decrepit and uncared for, not like the higher class cemetery of Gotham proper where the Rich and powerful are buried. She what’s spent the better part of three days researching her new bedmate roommate once he’d been stabilized enough to be on a consistent schedule for ecto-infusion. He’d be unlikely to regain full consciousness for another month or so, but he would recover fully.

That was, if he understood what he had become in his near-fatal collapse.

(Thanks to Jazz and her rash actions.)

The Lady had been cryptic when speaking of Red Hood at first, but with his recovery and development of a strong proto-core Lady Gotham was eager to aid the Regent in making her once Robin adjust to a world-changing consequence once again.

(At least this time he would have support.)

Not only was Jason a Liminal with an indisputable death-claim, he had been a- a Revenant whose continued existence was a mind boggling happenstance of circumstance that was one in a infinite chance of ever happening again.

The Lady claimed him. The Lady gave a bit of herself to resurrect her bright Light, the one who shouldn’t have died so young, not while he deserved happiness for the hope he brought to so many.

(Damn it all.)

He clawed himself out of his own casket, to be found by Talia Al Ghul of all people… then survive the Lazarus Pits in body, with only Pit Madness to show for it?

(It was a callous way to think about it, but Jazz knew that it had also given him his freedom in many ways, that Jason wouldn’t have if he was still just a Revenant.)

(Did the Al Ghul know what she had found that night in dreary Gotham?)

(Was she aware she had given Jason Todd a third chance at life- however much of one being death-claimed by Lady Gotham could be called a life.)

The Lady, wistful once assured in the Regent’s anger having passed, swore an oath that Jason would never be forced to be a Knight again.

(Jazz reveled in the understanding that Batman, Bruce Wayne, was destined to be Gotham Knight for his mortal lifetime- possibly beyond.)

(Had he sworn his fealty by accident in his grief? Or had his donning that ridiculous gimmick been enough of a bind to tie his soul to the Lady?)

(Regardless, for his inaction, Jazz privately reveled in the satisfaction of the true consequences of his choices.)

Jazz, who’d been pacing a strict line in the uneven row of headstones, came to a rest at the grave of the once-Revenant who now lay in her bed.

Jason Todd

He’d been only a year older than her little brother when he’d been murdered by the Joker, buried under a name that was half-complete. He was a Wayne in life, but not in death? How hypocritical of the old bat, to not give him the courtesy of giving him the hyphenated last name if he wasn’t going to bury him in the Wayne cemetery.

What would it have been like if Danny had a grave, complete with a stone and inscription?

(The portal was his grave. He’d died there and the house was his graveyard.)

Would it have been up to Jazz to choose the words to describe her little light, the brightest star in the galaxy, the one reason she had for getting up in the morning… or would her parents have cremated him and put him on a shelf to prevent a corpse from ‘piloting’ his corpse?

(Jazz still had nightmares about Danny’s death scream. The portal ripping him apart in the same moment it fused him back together.)

(Into something different, something more.)

(He was her little brother, the same one who she spent her birthday money on to get those ridiculous glow-in-the-dark stars.)

(They’d spent hours forming constellations on his ceiling.)

How does one paraphrase a life?

Would Jazz start with his name, his preferred name, or with his date of birth?

Would she put down ‘dearest brother’ or ‘missed’, ‘Be at peace’?

No. Jazz knew she’d give the most important pieces of what made her little brother the brightest star in the sky-

Danny, per aspera ad Astra.

Danny had an unconventional memorial tucked away in the remnants of the Fenton lab, underneath the debris of what was once a strange machine to a world unseen.

The portal was built into the wall with ample access space in the rear for intended maintenance, though it was not required once the portal was completed and functional.

Jazz left flowers for Danny in that maintenance space three days after she first saw his transformation, yellow tulips, though she didn’t know the impact the action would have later in life.

Once a month, Jazz would return to replace the dried flowers, dust away the cobwebs, close the door, rinse and repeat.

Christmas was particularly complicated in the Fenton household, but the first year of Danny’s half-life was the worst Jazz could recall up to that point.

It wasn’t the eerie lack of ghost attacks (thanks to her not knowing of the Truce then), or the winter storm being harsher than any other Amity Park had faced in previous years… No, it was that Danny had died, while nothing and everything changed.

Jack and Maddie still screamed their arguments about Santa Claus, loud and proud for the world to be privy to.

Jazz had extra tutoring to take up for Christmas presents.

Danny… Danny still had to fight a ghost.

Ghostwriter wasn’t a malicious ghost in nature, far from it in fact, but he was never a fan of her little brother.

Jazz overheard Danny tell his friends about his ‘storybook adventure’ and she had to sleep in the access space for the night, just so she didn’t wake anyone with her crying.

It wasn’t right.

That thought repeated on a never-ending loop in her head as she tucked her growing limbs into the cramped space, eyes shut tight and the darkness shrouding her in safety.

(That had been the first nightmare of her own death to come, fingers frantically searching for a pulse as she woke in the dark.)

Perhaps she should have never left that darkness.

Because then the anger that had been building inside of her would never have been unshackled after the release of the tyrant king.

Jazz had been a patient girl her entire life. It was a necessary evil when raised by scientists to follow in their footsteps, though she had no intention to make her life into any imitation of her negligent parents, she learned those lessons at the knee of Maddie Fenton, who had given her life to the pursuit of ecto-science.

(Built a very strange machine to a world unseen.)

When Jazz failed to achieve something, she observed and struck when the opportunity presented it. That’s how she’d survived ghost attacks for so long, escpecially when it was her own dinner- that and the ingrained knowledge to strike hard and quick when it was required. A paradox of a hunter and a hunted, but that was Jasmine Fenton’s upbringing in a nutshell.

Jasmine knew Vladimir Masters was a bigger predator than she was capable of hunting as a young girl.

(Jazz was just a little girl when Vlad became obsessed with her and her mom.)

(Only the dead truly knew what an older man could do to someone so much smaller.)

It was a waiting game that morphed as she grew, bones sturdy and teeth sharper as Ecto-contamination finally settled into her molecules- Death-claimed, Liminality. Vlad was a false halfa, just as he was a false friend to her parents and a false business man, but as long as he stayed out of her way in caring for her little brother than she would not destroy him.

(She was a patient hunter.)

Pariah Dark was the final crack.

(It needed somewhere to go, all that anger, all that rage.)

Jazz had been patrolling the outer limits of the ghost shield now that Amity was returned to the Living Realm, anxiety in her gut as Danny had yet to show from his battle against the tyrant king.

He had obviously won if they were all safe, right? The mech suit would boost him enough, but could it really kill what was already dead?

Hidden in the embrace of familiar shadows, Jazz witnessed Plasmius carrying an unconscious Danny over his shoulder and a…crown in his right hand.

Not only had the bastard released the King for the Crown of Fire, he’d damned them all for the same item he’d stolen in the aftermath.

Jazz’s next actions weren’t borne from Vengeance, they were unfiltered rage.

Vlad had died that night, Jazz believed wholeheartedly, he died before she locked him in his casket- a since soldered shut Fenton Thermos.

Thing was, Jazz didn’t recall what happened between them- all she could really remember when thinking of that time frame was a green haze that was so similar in color to the damned portal.

One moment, Plasmius had Danny and the Crown. The next, he was a beaten man in his human form with no rise and fall of his chest to convince Jazz he was alive.

Was it concerning? Of course. Jazz never wanted to hurt anyone, especially not in a blackout rage state.

(How times have changed.)

Would she ever mourn Vlad? No. He deserved a far worse fate than a second death.

(His sins were numerous.)

If his casket would later be given to Pandora, the trusted Mentor of the Boy King’s Regent…. Well, where better to keep a body hidden than with a Matriarch who understands the sins of man?

(Pandora had always believed in Jazz, the Regent’s soul was far too bright to be snuffed out without a war.)

Within the Infinite Realms, the Regent was called many things- titles that held little meaning to the one in question, but offered weight to her authority.

The Lady of the Acropolis, for her mentorship with Pandora and position of respect among the populace.

First Knight of the Star King, would be granted once her Regency was over and Danny was crowned. His epithet as ‘Star King’ was a beautiful homage of a lost dream.

Death-Claimed Champion.

It made the Regent grit her teeth when addressed as such, especially when she lived in Gotham presently- the city of Lady Gotham’s Knights… her Champions.

Jazz had survived to adulthood as a highly contaminated Liminal, no patron to claim as her- Not even Pandora counted even though they shared a teacher/student relationship.

Would Jason, Red Hood of the Alley, be able to handle managing his territory without the backing of a patron claim? The Lady did swear that the once-Revenant was no longer bound to her service, which meant he could pack up his gear forever if he wanted to.

Though that was highly doubtful.

Jason was a strong willed man to lay claim to his haunt so quickly and hold fast for so long. Jazz shared her haunt with Danny, but that was only because he was the powerful Halfa and future King. His Haunt would never be challenged by a competent opponent, not in Gotham at least.

Perhaps Jason would be willing to unite their haunts?

It was a common tradition for older ghosts to allow weaker ones to share their haunt for protection, but that didn’t translate well to the Death-Claimed.

(Jazz had a hunch that Jason was so in tune with his haunt that he instinctively knew when she or Danny stepped foot across his boundary.)

(They tried not to linger, out of respect of another’s haunt of course.)

Then again, Jason was the Baby Liminal between the two of them. Danny and Jazz should be offering him to share a haunt for protection.

(Jazz couldn’t help but wonder what Jason looked like as a child.)

(She would bet almost anything that he was an adorable kid.)

(Would their kids be so cute?)

There was a slight lilt of sadness that lingered over the daytime hero, Signal, that Danny almost choked on his Death Wish.

The coffee, that is.

Little late on the literal bit.

Gotham (city, not the Lady) was an ever-gloomy fruit basket full of ghastly vibes. You see it and you know you’re in for a bad time, but that’s typically at night.

So what was up with Sunshine Child?

Yeah, he was clearly human and allowed to have off days, duh, but for it to hang like a shroud of storm clouds over Sunny? Yeah, no. That shit needs to be gone, like yesterday.

“Hey, Sunshine!” Danny called out with a false cheer. It was too damn early in the morning for real cheer, are you mad, but Signal didn’t seem to notice as he approached the lawn chair the Halfa had decided would be his new throne.

(At least Jazz would find it funny.)

“Hi Danny. Can I help you with something?”

Danny took a loud sip of his coffee before he went straight for the throat, “You’re doom and gloom this morning, Sunny. Whose bones do I need ‘ta steal?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Just…” the meta Hero trailed off, voice tired as he let himself relax for a moment in Danny’s presence.

(That’s right, Danny’s just a friendly civilian teenager with anger issues, right?)

(Oh he would be cackling at that lie when he had a moment to himself again.)

“My brother is missing.”

Danny blinked.

“Your brother? One of the birdies?” He tried very hard not to pull out any of his jokes about traffic lights and Stabby Robin, but at least he didn’t sound condescending?

“Sorta. Red Hood… he went off grid about a week and a half ago.”

(Yeah this isn’t something Danny should be privy to.)

(Like at all.)

(It’s not like he was housing the guy in his home right?)

(Oh wait.)

“Yikes, Sunny. That sucks, ‘m sorry.”

Signal sighed, “Yeah, thanks Danny.” He paused again, studying the canonical adoption bait that was Danny Fenton before he dropped a bombshell.

“Batman thinks he’s dead.”

(Danny almost cackled in manic glee at that statement.)

(Overshot the mark there, Bats. Yikes.)

Danny happily waved goodbye to his meta friend, a dorky salute with his coffee cup in commersiation of a shitty hour of the day to be awake, before he leaned back in his lawn chair and yawned.

“Oh, what drama. Jazz is gonna kill me all the way if she finds out.” He said out loud to no one in particular. The occasional shade that kept him company didn’t bother to move at the sound of his voice now that Signal had left, but it did let out a mournful trill that made Dannny chuckle.

“Yeah, yep, you’re right- when, when, Jazz finds out.” Danny laughed again, “Worth it.”

A/N:

Yeah, I wasn't expecting so much angst either, but apparently, that's my jam, because I literally cannot write anything else. Well, anything that doesn't sound like two robots trying to mimic humans at least.

This was supposed to be a more upbeat entry and look how epically I failed. I had to put a content warning up top because I wrote/heavily implied that Jazz was abused by Vlad due to his obsession with Maddie.

In other news, I have a playlist now for what songs I listen to while writing this. It's called 'Guns & Sword: Jazz on' 'cause 2am me thinks she's clever.

#dpxdc #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #regent!jazz #jazz fenton #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #ooh angst #*points at Jazz* this badass can hold so much angst #some character building for Jazz #I swear I try writing dialogue and I choke.#How did i never learn to write dialogue properly?

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jasntodds · 9 months ago

Text

Petrichor [18]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 9,775

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, canon character death, blood, canon violence, mention of previous abuse, mention of drug use, mention of drug addiction, mention of canon gore, kind of a mention of alcoholism

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: I can't believe I've had to type out canon character death 4 times for this series lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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You and Gar are seated on the floor facing each other while Rachel went out to get you some supplies. You're trying to wrap your head around how you're supposed to function around the city and take down Crane when the entire city wants your heads on spikes. The GCPD has always been weird about Batman but now they actually want all of the Titans taken down and with Crane behind it, that can't mean just throwing you all in cells and tossing away the key. You can't just go out and fight every civilian that hates you now. They're brainwashed because that's what Crane does and fighting people who have no clue what they're doing isn't going to help your situation. It feels more like you're all sitting ducks at this point.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Gar asks, breaking the silence between you, earning an eyebrow raise from you. "How Jason came back."

Your eyes narrow slightly, unsure how or why it would bother you. Him being alive is a good thing. "Why would it bother me?"

"I mean the Lazarus Pit." Gar states as he leans forward. "Like, he came back and that's just it? Some water somewhere is magic and can bring people back from the dead. That doesn't make sense."

You nod your head slowly, this is the same thing he told you at the manor when he showed you some of the books Bruce had on it. "Yeah, we went over that. It's because of Ra's which I think makes a lot of sense, honestly. It's still bothering you that much?"

"Yeah, like why doesn't anyone know where it is? Or what if they do but it's a secret. Bruce knew, right? Why didn't Bruce close it off like the others? Why did he keep the one in Gotham open?" Gar rambles off his questions.

Of all topics that's going to pick at Gar, this is it? The Lazarus Pit? You're bothered by it, too but not enough to be sitting here thinking about it when you're worried the Titans are going to be hunted for sport now. You've been separated and you're going to need each other but Gar doesn't seem bothered by it at all. Just the Lazarus Pit.

You blink at him a few times. "I've been trying to rationalize the decisions Bruce makes but I think that's more of a dead end than anything else. If anyone is going to have that answer outside of Bruce, it'd probably be Jason or Dick. But, they don't really get him either. I don't know." You shrug your shoulders. "Bruce is paranoid, maybe that's all there is to it. Couldn't explain why no one else knows..."

"Yeah, he's paranoid!" Gar groans. "So why leave it open?"

"No, I mean that's probably why. Or research." You let out a breath. "Maybe he's worried something will happen if he closes all of them off. Or he needs it to do more research. I don't know." You scoff. "I don't know how he feels about resurrection so maybe he wants to use it to help people or something I have no fucking idea, Gar. I think you'll drive yourself insane if you try to rationalize Bruce Wayne." You lean back on your hands, stretching out your legs.

"Maybe more people know about it." Gar says quietly. "If Crane knew..." Gar trails off as his eyes grow worried.

Without him finishing, you know exactly what he's thinking.

"Yeah, thought of that." You nod your head, your heart skipping a beat.

If Crane knew and his guy knew, more people know. They have to. Gotham is a big city so anyone can stumble upon it. People talk, it's what they do. It can't be that big of a secret. The question is who knows about it. If Crane knows, more Arkham inmates might know. More people who are crooked might know. There have been some really bad people who've been killed. If Jason can come back, so can they.

"We have to find it." Gar states.

"Why?" You ask flatly, tired of the circles you've been running.

"So we can do something about it." Gar says sternly.

"Like what?" Your voice raises.

Considering Crane is literally taking over the city, poisoning the water, and still might be wanting to distribute his drug, you think your hands a little bit full at the moment. Why go messing with something like a Lazarus Pit? That just sounds like a bad idea. Doing research into it is fine but the way you see it, it's probably best to leave well enough alone. Maybe you all should tackle one problem at a time and the Lazarus Pit doesn't seem to be a problem right now.

"I don't know! But maybe we can understand more about it and...use it for good. Or close it off so people like..." Gar's voice trails off as his eyes dodge yours. "The Joker don't get brought back."

"We should leave it alone." You urge, not missing a beat. "That's...that's Bruce and Ra's' business and Jason filled me in on the whole League Of Assassins and the Al Ghuls and I don't want to fuck with them."

"Since when are you on Bruce's side?" Gar scoffs in disbelief. The you he knows would love to do anything to get one over on Bruce, to show him up, prove he's wrong. Or just spite him in general. "He left. He left Dick to clean up his mess."

"I'm not on Buce's side." You grit your teeth. "I don't know why I have to be on anyone's side besides my own, by the way. Look, he's been doing the Batman shit a long fucking time and his methods don't always work but there has to be a reason the pit was left open." You pause for a few seconds before you shake your head. "It brought Jason back. It's not up to us to close it or do something with it."

The room falls silent with your final words. A lot of really bad people can be brought back and that is obviously a big concern. And you disagree with Bruce like you get paid for it but you know if that, of all things, was left open there is a reason for it. It brought Jason back. The way you see it, it can't be up to you and Gar to do anything about it. The Lazarus Pit isn't a battle and it's not up for Gar and you to make it into one. That's Bruce, Ra's' and Jason's business now.

"I got everything." Rachel states as she walks into the room, gaining Gar's and yours attention. The two of you get to your feet as Gar takes the bag from Rachel. "So, this happened last night? With the GCPD?" Rachel asks as Gar looks through the bag and pulls out a box of Cheeze Its.

"Yeah." You nod. "We, uh, we were set up. Dick and Babs had a plan to get the public off our backs but uh, Crane has basically the rest of the department on his payroll now so, uh, yeah." You nod your head as you look to the ground. Gar nudges you softly, offering you the bag. You look inside, seeing clothes. "Thank you." Your eyes widen at Rachel as you nod your head but before you can go to change, all of your phones start blaring an alarm.

The three of you pull out your phones, hoping this means cell towers are back up and running but you can never get so lucky. Instead, Jason wearing the Red Hood suit appears on your screens. Sam's heart falls to her feet. This is never good.

"Hello Gotham!" Jason cheers. "It's Red Hood coming to you live from the most exclusive spot in town: The Batcave. For too long, this city has been at the mercy of criminals and I'm not just talking about the Penguin and the Riddler and The Joker. I'm talking about the ones who pretend to help but only make things worse. First Batman and now the Titans. Hypocrites who feed off of your terror and pursuit of glory and they turn Gotham into a city of carnage. But it all comes to an end today. There's a new savior in town. First thing I'm going to do is burn the trash. You hear me, Nightwing? You're public enemy numero uno. But not for long, meet me at midnight. You know the place. It's time for us to finish this." Jason finishes before the screens go black.

You can feel the headache coming back. What the fuck?

"Okay, what the hell was that about?" Gar asks, looking to you.

Just last night Jason got you both to safety, took out the snipers. Gar might have been a bit out of it but he remembers that pretty vividly. Now, Jason is back with Crane?

"I literally have no fucking idea." You let out a groan, stuffing your phone back into the pocket of your suit.

"I thought he was on our side?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah." Gar raises his brows. "Isn't he supposed to be?"

"He is!" You immediately defend, desperately grabbing for an ounce of faith and reason Jason might have. "I don't know what he's doing. Maybe..." You pull in a breath, trying to figure out why he'd be acting like he's trying to target the Titans. If it were you, it'd be an act, a ploy to play both sides. "Maybe it's to meet up with Dick? I don't know. I mean, he has to make the public think he's with them and not us. He has to play along with Crane or he's dead again. And Crane clearly has access to the towers so it's not like Jason can just...call Dick. Crane might know." You nod your head, mostly just blurting out whatever bullshit you could come with on the spot.

"That's not reassuring." Gar remarks. "How do we know he's not working with Crane again?" Gar asks and he wants to hold onto hope that's not the case but after everything, even he's starting to be chiseled down into a calloused version of himself.

"We don't." You state, holding your head steady, careful not to waver. "We don't know. I don't think he would but it's always possible Crane drugged him again, I guess." You roll your eyes before you roll your shoulders. "Okay, I'm gonna go find Dick."

"No!" Gar protests. "They're going to try to kill you if you go out there. We need to stay hidden until we think of a plan."

"Yeah, I'm with Gar on this one." Rachel states, glancing between the two of you.

"I know this city like the back of my hand. I can find him and be fine." You argue back casually.

At this point, you aren't too afraid of what's out there. It can't possibly be any worse than anything you've experienced lately. You can change, go out as a civilian until you find them. It shouldn't take too long and if it does, you know where they'll be at midnight and you can go there. Someone has to find Dick before any of this gets any worse. And someone needs to find Jason to make sure he's not actually going to try and kill Dick again. You're volunteering, again.

"How are we supposed to find you again then?" Gar asks.

"I don't know." You shrug. "Rache's ESP or whatever?" Rachel offers a slight glare to you as you shrug and give her a grin. "That's kind of what it is." You mutter under your breath. "Whatever Rachel just used, use that. I'm gonna find Dick and if I can't, I know where they're gonna meet."

"Why do you know that?" Rachel asks.

"Because I know Jason and so does Dick. So I'm gonna go there if I have to." The casualness of your voice is not reassuring to Gar or Rachel.

"We're gonna try to find the Lazarus Pit then." Gar states, holding his head high as he crosses his arms.

"You're not gonna stop about that are you?" You ask slowly, giving Gar a slight glare.

"Nope." Gar offers you a smile right back which gets your rather cold exterior to crack just a little.

"Fine but can you promise not to mess with it...like don't take any water...liquid? From it, okay? Or have Rachel try to destroy it." You raise your brows at Rachel and then at Gar who starts to beam.

"Of course not." Gar nods his head once. "I just want to find it, learn more."

"Alright." You let out a sigh. "I'll change and head out. If we don't meet up and you don't hear from me before somehow, we'll meet back here at noon tomorrow, okay?"

"Sounds good." Rachel offers a soft smile. "Don't do anything stupid."

You let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, too late." You look back to Gar. "You guys don't do anything stupid." You smile cheekily at Gar before you turn on your heels. "Be careful!" You wave a hand as you leave the room.

You start your search near the tunnel system, hoping Jason will be there at least but he's not. The reality is that if Jason doesn't want to be found, he won't be. That little bit of information about him has you starting to really worry. It's probably nothing. Jason is probably just with Crane, getting information and saving his own ass. But, there's this small part of you that does wonder if he's preparing to go after Dick again. As much as you don't want it to be true, a part of your trust in him is gone. It's been ripped and torn to unrecognizable shreds. It's as if he took that trust and ripped it apart, baring his teeth with anger like a rabid bear and it can't be mended from that. It's not how it works. There is no fixing it. Just gaining something new and you are not there yet. That leaves you questioning his motives even if the beating between your ribs is telling you his intentions are only pure.

Finding Dick is of no use either. You don't even know where he would go. At least with Jason, you know he likes the school around the block from the library but he doesn't care for that library. He prefers the one near the shelter that houses mostly kids. He has his favorite gargoyle. Finding Jason, when he wants to be found, is easy but Dick? You have no clue where he would even go. He probably has places to go but you aren't sure of any of them which leaves you mostly wandering around until it gets closer to midnight.

By then, it's time to change and meet them at the spot. If nothing else, Dick will be there and you'll be able to tell him where Gar and Rachel are.

This is not how Jason wanted this to go. He wanted to meet up with Dick but with Crane having control of the entire city, he couldn't risk it. Too bad for Jason because Dick does not trust him. Dick has offered him no benefit of the doubt of this not turning into a fight and no part of Jason actually blames him even if he's mad. Of course, Dick doesn't trust him. Why would he? But Jason doesn't stop fighting him to try to explain anything and neither does Dick. Instead, the two of them fight, throwing punches and kicks. Dick uses the enigma sticks and Jason shoots at Dick a few times. It's turned into chaos.

Somehow the roles have flipped. Jason doesn't want to kill Dick but by the way Dick is fighting, Jason is scared Dick will fight him till the death and Jason doesn't want to die again...not yet. It leaves him with no choice. Fight harder, faster, better. Be better.

But Jason and Dick's attention is pulled away from each other.

"What the fuck are you idiots doing?!" You yell, fully suited up again and just walking up to see the chaos they're creating.

This does not look good. They shouldn't be fighting. If all Jason wanted to do was meet up with Dick, they shouldn't be fighting. Something went wrong and at this point, you aren't even sure who caused it this time. But by the way Dick snaps his attention back to Jason and smacks him with the stick, you almost wonder if it were Dick that started this.

Jason doesn't take it lightly, immediately stepping back into combat mode and firing a shot at him. You roll your eyes, pulling out your grappling hook and a knife. You aim the hook at Jason's feet and the knife at Dick before you fire and throw. The hook smacks Jason's feet, throwing his aim off while the knife's end hits Dick's arm with enough force to get him to drop his stick.

"Hello? What the fuck are you two morons doing?" You snap again.

"He started it!" Jason yells as he points at Dick like a child.

Dick snaps his attention back to Jason. "Me?!"

"You threatened to kill him again, Jason!" You yell at him. "Seriously, what the fuck is going on?!"

Jason spins to look over at you. You cannot believe he wanted to fight Dick again. Of all people, you have to know this is not what he came here to do tonight.

"I just wanted to fucking talk and he attacked me!" Jason points at Dick again.

"Gee, I wonder why Dick would attack someone who just threatened to kill him. It's a real brain teaser, Jay." You quip back but you roll your eyes and look over to Dick. "So...you gonna kill him now?"

"I saw him!" Dick defends as he points the stick at Jason once he picks it up. Are they both five? "At the PD." Dick clarifies. "He was on the roof when we came out. He was in on it!" Dick closes the distance between them and smacks him with the stick again.

Jason doesn't miss a beat in fighting back, not even bothering to explain that he was at GCPD to help. Of course, Jason isn't going to try to explain that now. You're just exhausted with these two. At some point, they need to learn how to communicate with words and you figure, maybe they can just fight it out for once. Maybe they need to just fight until they get tired. So, you cross your arms and decide you'll watch and try to intervene if it looks like they might actually kill each other.

Dick ends up disarming Jason entirely, sending him to the ground just as a crowd of civilians gather around to watch the show and that's when your stomach starts to sink. Jason will be fine but these people hate Dick. The fight turns into a violent hand-to-hand fight, the two of them throwing punches and kicks as hard as they can and going for the neck. Jason grabs Dick's neck, pushing him back but Dick grabs Jasn, throwing him over Dick's head and slamming him on his back onto the hard pavement. You wince at the sight and sound. Dick walks over and picks up one of Jason's guns before he goes back to Jason and stands right over him. Dick points the gun at Jason's head.

You're quick to run and stand over Jason. You look up at Dick. "Dude, put the gun down." You put your hands out in surrender, the gun aimed at your stomach. "You're not gonna kill him." Your voice doesn't waver even if you're not entirely sure if that's true anymore.

Would Dick kill him?

Jason doens't want to die. It feels wrong to be back. It feels wrong. Like he's stretching the universe too far and it's all going to snap back, straighten itself out and toss him back into the grave where he belongs. But today, at the hands of Dick Grayson? No. He is not dying tonight so he decides to taunt Dick. Even if Dick wants to kill him, he'll never do it. He'd never give Jason the satisfaction even if Dick were able to toss his morals to the side.

"I did this to you." Jason mutters.

"Shut the fuck up, so fucking help me." You look to the sky in annoyance.

"You did this to yourself." Dick points the gun past you, aiming at Jason again. You move to stand in front of the gun again.

You were just shot two days ago. As badly as it hurt and as bad as it still sucks now, you'll take the bullet if you need to. No one is dying tonight. You've all lost too many people already and this is over a miscommunication.

"Come on. Give me the fucking gun." You mutter. "You're not like us." You plead, locking eyes with Dick.

There's something about the way you say it that gains even Jason's attention. It's not pained or sympathetic, it's just honest. It's not remorseful even, just honest and candid. But it's sad with the smallest touch of desperation. It says everything Dick and Jason need to know about how you really feel about people killing other people.

Dick looks at the gun and back to you. He hands you the gun and you take it, removing the bullets immediately and tossing them before you bend down beside Jason to make sure he's okay. For a second, you really thought Dick just might pull the trigger.

"You okay?" You ask softly as Jason leans up on his forearms, his head and back throbbing from the impact.

Jason looks back at you, brows pinched tightly together but then he sees movement from the corner of his eye, grabbing his attention behind Dick. "Nightwing." Jason's voice is rough but stern, harsh. A warning. Jason's eyes widen with the slight nod of his head.

You follow his stare, seeing an innocent civilian aiming a gun at Dick. Dick's brows pull together but before he can turn around, the kid starts shooting. Lucky for Dick, the suit is bulletproof. The bullets bounce right off as Dick turns around. The gunfire comes to a stop as you and Jason watch from your spot behind him. The both of you start to worry, just a little because the suit might be bulletproof but the kid just needs one lucky shot for this to be catastrophic.

"Woah, easy. I'm not here to hurt you." Dick says, putting his hand out as he walks towards the kid.

You get to your feet first, offering Jason a hand up. Jason takes it but the two of you keep your eyes on the kid. Scared kid, a gun, a guy painted to be the enemy fighting the guy painted to be the hero. The air fills with dread, suffocating Jason with its bare hands tattooed with guilt and regret. It's his fault Dick is here. It's his fault he didn't just say what happened and what he wanted. None of these people should even be here. What is he supposed to do?

"Careful, put the gun down." Dick states.

Jason pulls out another gun, switching to new bullets. He's definitely not going to shoot a scared kid who thinks he's doing the right thing. But, he can shoot in that general direction, he can just use it as a threat if he needs to. He doesn't want to threaten the kid but if he has to he will. He did not come here to kill Dick, get Dick killed, or watch him die. Not tonight.

"What the hell are you doing?" You whisper to him.

"Being prepared." Jason mutters back.

Dick hears Jason and turns around to face him before he starts walking back toward you and Jason. Dick is on guard, feeling as if he can't trust Jason. The second his back is turned, Jason is reloading a gun. From Dick's perspective, Jason isn't done fighting and Jason poses more of a threat than the kid. So, he pulls out the enigma stick again.

Before Dick can reach you and Jason, the kid starts shooting again. Dick is blocking them but Jason pulls you behind him, blocking you from the few shots not even putting any thought into it. But, by the time the third shot rings across the stale air, it finally makes proper contact with Dick. The kid got lucky. The kid got lucky, sending the bullet into Dick's neck right above where his armor stops.

It's as if the entire scene falls into slow motion as you and Jason watch in horror as the blood spurt from Dick's neck. Jason's heart stops beating entirely as Dick's hand goes to his neck, trying to put pressure on the wound. Jason eyes the kid who doesn't even look surprised or sorry or fucking scared. He doesn't look scared. He should look scared.

Jason didn't feel scared killing all those people but if he weren't high, he would have at least felt something. There would have been some part of him that would have felt some sort of fear or remorse or pity or he would have had a thought questioning if it were the right thing to do. Is this really the last resort? He would have felt fucking something other than pride for a job well done. This kid does not look like any of those things. He looks like he just did something on a random Tuesday night. No remorse, no consequences. Just a thing he did.

What is the city turning into?

What has Jason turned this city into?

"I did it for you." The kid's wavered voice breaks the silence, shattering the slowed illusion.

Jason glances to Dick as he falls to the ground and then he looks back to the kid. This is not what he wanted. Crane, Jason, they convinced the public of this. That this was the right way. Jason may not have had a part in that video but it never would have been made if it weren't for him. The public is gonna get blood on their hands. This will clear up, somehow, someway, it will and now this innocent kid, has to deal with the death of someone on his own hands for someone who was masquerading around like a hero, like a savior.

"Red Hood." The kid states, this time the unsteadiness of his voice is gone. And then he starts chanting Jason's vigilante name, over and over and over again as the rest of the civilians join in.

You look at him with heartbreak before you run over to Dick, pushing him onto his back where you put your hand over the neck wound. How could this happen? Another person? Another fucking person? Dick was always right about Gotham. Maybe Bruce was right about Gotham.

Jason went into more detail about what Bruce said to him the day he took Robin away. Bruce had said something about how people lose themselves to the city. Maybe he was right. Maybe they go mad, maybe they turn into murderers, and maybe they die. But eventually, maybe everyone gets lost in the city of damaged hopes. And maybe Dick was right, too. This city takes and it changes people. It's as if this city needs the chaos of destruction in order to stay afloat and it waits in the shadows, just waiting for the perfect victim at the right time before it sinks its teeth into them. It bleeds them of all their good parts until there's nothing left. A perfect sacrifice for the city.

Maybe that's all Gotham is because Dick is bleeding out because some kid got fucking lucky with a gun.

Jason watches in horror and having everyone chant his name does not sound as good as he once thought it would. At one point, he thought having everyone cheer for him would feel good. He would be important but he just got his brother shot. Someone who has almost always just tried to help him. Jason has been out here trying to kill him and thanks to you, Dick was willing to trust Jason and give him a second chance but now he's just been shot and it's his fault. And he's going to die because of him.

Jason knows what it's like to die and it's fucking terrifying and painful. Tears brim his eyes and the crowd is still chanting and he sees your cheeks glistening in the low streetlights around you. He wanted to talk but when Dick attacked first, rightfully so, he just couldn't help it. He thought that it was over for him and maybe it didn't have to be. How the fuck did he get here again? He should have just surrendered. That's all he had to do but his ego and pride get in the fucking way. All he ever does is get in the way. Dick's gonna die and it's all his fault.

He wants to run, get out of here because it's all too much. Too loud, too heavy. Too much pressure. Everyone is cheering as if Jason pulled the trigger and killed the worst of the worst. They're brainwashed and Jason knows that better than anyone. Someone has to snap them out of it. It's too much but running and pushing has never done him much good.

"Get out here!" Jason yells over the crowd as the chanting slows down. Your attention, like the rest of the crowd, lands on him. "Go! Before I start fucking shooting." Jason aims the gun into the air, his arm steady and his eyes threatening.

"We're on your side!" One of the citizens announces.

"So do what I fucking say." Jason snips back. "Didn't ask for you fucking help here. Get out of here." Jason takes steps toward the crowd as they start to back away.

They grumble and mutter amongst themselves before they eventually disburse. Jason takes that as his cue to run up beside you, leaning over Dick. There's blood pooling out of his mouth as he gasps for air.

"I can't stop the bleeding." You state. "Think he hit the fucking artery."

"I got it." Jason mutters, slightly nudging you out of the way where he can replace your hands with his. You have had enough blood on your hands lately, this is on Jason.

Neither of you have ever seen Dick look scared or panicked. Surely, he feels it. He is human and normal, mostly. But, he's really good at hiding it. With Deathstroke, you didn't see the look of pure terror on his face when you were standing outside the window. You didn't see the look of horror and agony on his face as Jason was falling to his death. You didn't see it because Dick has always been good at making sure no one sees those emotions from him. He has to be strong, sturdy, and a little calloused in order for everyone else not to panic. If the leader looks panicked and scared, so will everyone else. If everyone is scared and panicked, mistakes are made and more people die. So, he hides it. Until now.

Dick can feel the blood loss taking over, making him light-headed. The blood loss and bullet wounds alone are making it harder to breathe. He knows how long he has, maybe minutes but nothing more. Not unless you or Jason can get some sort of help in the next few seconds. He's going to die and it is fucking terrifying. He isn't ready. He has too much left. Who is going to look after the Titans if he dies? Who's going to stop Crane? He has too much life to live, outside of the Titans to die tonight but he is helpless. There is no help and there is no hope. It's just him bleeding out in the middle of downtown Gotham.

"Get." Dick tries to pull in a breath. "Help."

You look around and you don't see a single person around. Your heart starts to break as the lump comes back to your throat. It destroyed you when Jason died and it destroyed you when your mom died. You're actually pretending like Tim survived just in case he didn't. You can't deal with it if he died, too. But, you look back at Dick and you're really scared he'll die.

You might fight with him all the time and disagree with him usually, but you have a lot of respect for him. He saved your life more than once. You might not like his morals but you think he is a good person and he tries a lot harder than anyone else ever would. To help innocent people. To help you, no obligation, no transaction, no contingencies. He helps you because he just does. Just like with Rachel and Gar, and despite what Jason thinks, you think that's why he tried to help Jason, too. Just because. It shouldn't be Dick to die. The Titans need him. He's a really good leader, usually. It's almost shocking but he is. And everyone trusts him. The Titans will fall apart if he dies. They practically fell apart when Donna died but Dick would kill them. The Titans need him. You need him.

Jason glances over to you, knowing this is going to be bad. He's not going to make it and by the look of devastation in your eyes, he knows you feel it, too. And then the throbbing under Jason's hands comes to a slow halt.

"Dick?" Jason questions, looking back at him. "Hey, man, stay awake." Jason holds his voice steady, careful not to let it slip how much this is ripping him to shreds. "I can't feel his pulse." Jason says quietly, glancing back to you before he pulls his hand away, trying a different spot but he still feels nothing.

"Keep your hands on the wound." You mutter, moving to the opposite side before you place your hands on his chest and start chest compressions.

Jason watches you, trying to keep his hands steady on the wound but with every ump, Jason can feel blood coming from the wound, warming his hands. The tip of Jason's nose starts to feel like it's on fire while his eyes feel like someone's just thrown sand into them. This cannot be happening. Dick is otherwise dead and he's got you doing CPR, just as you did the night Jason died. And Jason can't peel his eyes away from you as some sort of self-torture because he thinks this is probably similar to how you looked that night.

The hood of your suit falling off of your head, resting lazily on your shoulders and moving with every compression. The way your hair is a complete mess. Tear-stained cheeks shining against any light that they catch. And blood soaking your skin. Jason wonders if this is the exact sight Babs walked in on. You must have felt so alone.

"Dick!" You and Jason hear Gar's voice from across the pavement, wet footsteps picking up their pace. "What happened?" Gar yells as him and Rachel get closer to the two of you.

"He was shot." Jason states as you don't miss a single beat.

"He's not breathing." You rush with heaving breath.

"Are you sure?" Gar asks with glossy eyes.

You stop, feeling for a pulse and there's still nothing. "Positive." You continue chest compressions, looking to Rachel who falls to her knees beside you.

"Is there anything you can do?" Gar asks, looking at Rachel.

You stop, sitting back on your toes, to see if Rachel can use her powers somehow to save him. It might not have worked on Donna but maybe it could work on Dick. He hasn't been dead long. Maybe that matters and Jason and Gar seem to have the same hope. Jason pulls away while Gar keeps his stance steady, almost holding his breath as Rachel tries her powers, a purple glow coming from her hands over Dick's neck. But nothing comes from it. Instead, the purple fades as Rachel lets out a cry.

"It's too late." Rachel sniffles, looking to Gar.

Gar lets out a scream as tears start to fall from your eyes. Jason's eyes stay trained on Dick, almost distant as he thinks the pain of it all has just chewed him to pieces. What are you gonna do?

You look to Rachel who looks like she might break into a million pieces right in front of you. Gar yells again as bats crowd the space above all of you. The four of you look up, watching the bats circle around all of you. Gar starts to have problems with his eyes as he rubs them only for his face to start turning green and then his hands start to change until his body follows. Suddenly, Gar is a bat, flying with the others above you.

"Gar?" Rachel asks.

You, Jason, and Rachel get to your feet as the bats circle closer and closer to Dick, Gar right in the mix of them. You all back away as the bats fly down to Dick and start to pick him up, all of them working together. They fly Dick high into the air before they start moving.

"What...the....fuck?" You look to Rachel as she'll have some sort of answer.

"That's new, right?" Jason looks to you who just nods.

"Come on." Rachel says, without missing a beat, grabbing some of Gar's clothes before she starts following the bats and Gar.

You and Jason exchanged a confused look before deciding to follow. You both have absolutely nothing left to lose at this point.

"I thought he couldn't turn into anything else?" You ask as the three of you run to keep up with the bats.

"He turned ito a snake once." Jason answers, not even thinking.

He was possessed at the time and the reason Gar turned into a snake in the first place but Gar talked about it a lot at first. Jason tried to help him transform again, several times with different methods. Getting him mad, scaring him, sparring harder with him, they tried everything but nothing ever worked. And then Gar stopped talking about it.

"Yeah, once but now he's a bat?" You question. "What the fuck?"

"Is that really what you're concerned about right now?" Rachel asks, her voice torn between amusement and worry.

"I mean..." You suck in a breath. "It's better than the alternative. I would prefer to focus on the weird shit than the sad shit."

Rachel gives you a subtle glare as you keep up your fast walk. It's not a long walk before you all reach the entrance of a building and Rachel is the only one who understands what's happening.

"They're taking him to the Lazarus Pit." Rachel says as Gar and the bats take Dick into the building.

"What?" Jason almost demands as his steps come to a hard stop. "You found it?"

"Yeah." Rachel mutters softly, turning around to see Jason not walking and you standing a few feet in front of him.

He can't go in there. It feels wrong. How do you know Dick would want that? Would he want it? If someone were to have asked Dick before he died if this is what he wanted, would he say yes? Would he agree to it without knowing the consequences of being brought back? Would he be okay with the constant feeling of being pulled back to the dark where the Grim Reaper waits with a smile?

But Jason looks at you and Rachel, the two who Dick has saved. It's not his place to argue it. Dick hasn't been dead long. Maybe he won't feel the way Jason does. Jason was dead a few days. Maybe it's different. Maybe the Pit has different effects the longer someone is dead so it's not his place. Jason hasn't been on good terms with Dick in a few weeks, he doesn't get a say. But, he can't go in. The pull is too strong and his bones feel like they might vibrate and shatter right through his skin. He can't do it.

"You coming, Jay?" You ask softly as you close the distance between you. You thought maybe he'd want to see the thing that brought him back. It is fascinating. And maybe he could be there if it works for Dick. Maybe help.

"No." Jason shakes his head. "I'm going to Crane." Jason spits it out without thinking as he watches the shock consume your face.

"Do you think that's really a good idea?" Rachel asks as a wince almost consumes her entire expression.

Jason takes a step towards you and nods his head at Rachel before looking back at you. "I gotta try to fucking help. Maybe I can get Crane to spill with Dick dead. He won't know about the Pit."

He has to do this. Maybe he can convince Crane to give up some form of information. If the Pit can bring Jason back, it can bring Dick back. He's going to wake up in a few hours and now it's Jason's job to get him some answers so they finally put this whole thing out of its misery. He owes Dick that much.

"Are you sure?" You ask, eyes scanning his face as if fully convinced this is just him avoiding something.

Jason nods softly. "Yeah, go with them. We'll meet later." Jason offers something that's not quite a smile.

You don't like the idea but...maybe Crane will think Nightwing's death is on Jason's hands. Maybe that'll be enough for Crane to actually trust Jason just enough to offer some sort of information to him. It's the right thing to do.

"Okay." You nod reluctantly. "Be careful, yeah?"

"Always." Jason gives you the subtle smirk he always does before he nods and runs off in the opposite direction.

The two of you go into the building, following the way Gar and the other bats took as you run to catch up. You get to an open room where a glowing pool of blue liquid sits right in the middle of the room. Gar and the other bats hover above it, holding Dick's lifeless body.

"Gar, now!" Rachel yells as the bats start to lower Dick into the water.

Once Dick is lowered, the bats fly around until Dick is completely submerged and then they disburse. Besides Gar. You and Rachel sit at the edge of Lazarus Pit, just watching as it starts to bubble. This whole thing is weird but you can't help but feel just a little bit of hope. If it worked for Jason, it should work for Dick.

"You're not allowed to leave anymore." You mutter, keeping your eyes on the Pit.

"What?" Rachel shakes her head in confusion.

"You're not allowed to leave. Everything went to shit and you show up, find me and Gar and then the damn pit. You can't leave, Titans need you." You nod your head quickly as Rachel smiles softly, looking back to the pit.

Gar transforms back to himself and starts getting dressed. Once he has his pants on, he walks to the edge of the pit, standing opposite you and Rachel. He's blinking dramatically, having a subtle sway to stance as he tries to get his equilibrium back to normal.

"He's gonna make it, right?" Gar asks, looking at you.

Gar isn't sure how you would know but you're the one who's had more conversations with Jason than anyone. Jason might not know a lot but something about asking you gives Gar hope. Maybe you do know the Pit works every single time. Gar hopes it works like that.

"I don't know." You shrug. "Uh...J-Jason just said, uh, that someone put him in it and then he was alive. So..." You nod your head. "I-I guess if that's all there is...yeah. Jason was dead for a few days so..." You pull in a shaky breath.

"I can't believe he actually died." Rachel states, her eyes on the pit. She says it mostly out of hope that whatever happened with Jason to bring him back, will bring Dick back.

You glance to her before you pull your knees to your chest. You know it's because Rachel is finding all of this out for the first time while everyone else has had a few weeks to digest the news and fumble their way through the aftermath. But, no one can believe Jason not only died but then came back. It's the way it's talked about, how it's said in passing and so casually that you almost wonder if they're all just...fine with it. At the end of the day, Jason died. He died. That was something that happened and he remembers it. As someone who was nearly beaten to death, you know that was haunting. Is haunting. You can't imagine what dying is actually like. And how terrified he probably still feels. But, everyone else is...it's as if that aspect of it, doesn't matter. To some extent, you get it. You understand because he became Red Hood and decided to kill Dick. You understand because they didn't see it. But, it irks you anyway.

"Sorry." Rachel says quietly. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just meant that it's kind of crazy. Jason was reckless but I didn't think he'd actually get killed." Rachel explains calmly.

"No, it's okay." You shake your head. "You're just getting the news of everything and then Dick is killed. I get it, don't worry about it."

"Are you okay?" Gar asks, his brows knitted together in their usual state of worry.

"I'm fine." You look up to him with one stern nod. "Been here a few times, right?" You quip bitterly.

"That's why I asked." Gar nods his head.

"Yeah, I'm good." You sniffle. "Are you guys okay? I mean...it's Dick." You look between Rachel and Gar as if feeling you have no right to grieve him as much as them.

You've been at odds with Dick most of the time over the last few weeks. It doesn't seem fair for you to absorb any space for grief. It should be given to Rachel and Gar.

"No." Gar answers. "What're we supposed to do without him?" Gar's voice nearly shatters.

"We don't have to think about that because if it worked for Jason, it'll work for Dick." Rachel states with ease and you're not sure who she's trying to convince.

"Yeah." Gar says shortly.

"I think we need to force the batboys into therapy after this. Group and individual until they learn how to have a conversation." You groan, trying not to focus on Dick actually dying and not coming back from this.

"We all need therapy." Gar mutters as he comes to sit on the other side of you.

The three of you fall silent, just watching the pit with no idea how long this is supposed to take or if you'll even know if it works or not. This is definitely the pit but none of you know the logistics of it. For all you know, this isn't going to work or it could take hours or days. So, you just fall into silence, mostly thinking of everything that's happened.

It's haunting and sets reality into stone of the work you all do. Of couse, it was real the day Donna died. Wonder Girl was killed. It was real then, too. But, it was an accident. And then it was real when Jason died. But, it was Jason who was killed by The Joker. That was different. This is Dick though. He's the leader and even when he's wrong, he still knows what to do. He was Robin. He's Nightwing. He's not supposed to die and he did anyway. And it was by some kid with a gun. It wasn't The Joker or Two Face or Deathstroke. It was just some kid. A kid Dick would have protected but everyone turned their backs on the Titans over Crane. And Dick was killed for it.

What are you all supposed to do if this doesn't work? Just go back to San Francisco like nothing happened? That doesn't seem possible. It'll just feel cold and lonely.

Between the three of you sitting here, he's saved your lives more times than you can count. He is the older and annoying brother none of you really asked for. It's losing another family member. But...it hits a little different this time. So, the air around you feels like it's carrying bricks and the guilt of the entire world.

Jason, he's also still processing everything that's just happened. When he left to meet Dick, he knew he'd have to start talking immediately, given his own broadcast and conversation with Dick. But, then the flashbang went off and it's like it...triggered something in him where he just had to fight. He just had to. Something deep inside of him told him Dick would never let him explain why he did what he did. It's the immediate defensive mechanism and he knows it. But, he's on the way back to the manor and he's thinking that was just dumb. It was not giving Dick any bit of credit which Jason doesn't like to do on most days but he deserved this time. And now he's dead. He's dead and that's Jason's fault because that kid was defending him. Everything is his fault even when he is desperately clawing his way away from all of this. It follows him.

He told you that, months ago, it follows him like a curse and he has never been so sure of that. First it was his mom. He is not mad at her and he holds no resentment towards her but he wasn't enough for her. She chose those drugs every single day over him and he knows part of that was so she could function. That's how it started. It started so she could take care of him. If it weren't for him in the first place, his mom wouldn't have gotten addicted and then she'd still be here.

His dad was angry and desperate because he was just trying to provide for them. He was down and out and he was an ass and abusive but there was a point, before the alcohol, where he was trying. He was trying and if it weren't for Jason being an extra mouth to feed who needed other things, maybe his dad wouldn't have been so angry and desperate.

Had he never gone after Deathstroke, you wouldn't have been there. Had he never gone after Deathstroke, the Titans wouldn't have left and the tower wouldn't have been attacked or the Titans would have fought together. Gar wouldn't have been kidnapped and turned into a killer. Donna wouldn't have died.

You wouldn't been traumatized had he never went after the Joker. You wouldn't have been shot. Dick wouldn't have been shot and killed. Hank wouldn't have been killed. Everything that's happened has been following right on his heels like a rabid dog chasing him down a dead end alley. There is no escape. He is just stuck in this constant spiral of agony and causing everyone else around him the worst pain they will ever experience.

This is all his fault and there's nothing he can do anymore.

Even if the Pit works, will Dick remain the same? Or will he be as terrified and traumatized and stuck as Jason? Whatever side effects Dick gets from the Pit, that has to fall on Jason, too.

Jason reaches the Batcave, the cuts from Dick's punches still bleeding over his face. Crane is dragging his scythe on the floor, his face covered in fresh cuts. He's got this evil and eerie smile while there's a body on a table, cut open with his organs sticking out. This is the first time he's ever felt terrified of Crane. At the hospital, it wasn't Crane Jason was worried about it. It was who would call in. But this? This is Crane losing his damn mind on some, likely, innocent person and Jason thinks his days are definitely numbered with him. Everyone's days are numbered with him.

"Nightwing's dead." Jason states, his words flat and pained.

"Batman saved my toy." Crane says but it's only slightly enthusiastic, almost childlike as he holds up the scythe by the chain. Crane lets out a light chuckle as Jason just watches him closely, ready to move if Crane tries to pull anything. "A trinket of our courtship together. Who would have thought he was so...sentimental."

Jason's eyes narrow as he watches Crane. All of this...over his scythe? Jason knew he was insane but he's really pushing the envelope tonight.

"Did you hear me?" Jason questions but with no venom or snark. His chest is in so much agony, he doesn't think he can muster it at this second. "I said Nightwing is dead!" Jason gets himself to yell, growing frustrated.

"So?" Crane states. "Wasn't my monster." Crane states plainly but not in the way where his words feel light. This time there's something heavy and dark in his tone, running a chill up Jason's spine. The scythe drops to the floor, Crane still holding it by the chain. "He's your monster. What do you want? A cookie?" Crane offers a half-assed chuckle, mostly to himself.

A fire starts erupting through Jason's blood like an overdue volcano. He can't be serious. Getting clean, Jason realizes that so much of the shit Crane was spilling was just him manipulating him, making sure Jason had no one to run to besides Crane. But, there's some part of him that is still hurt and disgusted by the reaction. It was Crane's idea.

"You said that's what you wanted." Jason argues softly, taking just a few steps toward Crane. "When it was done, we would save Gotham my way." Jason's voice is small as the sense of betrayal kicks in.

He is only here to find out what Crane has planned and then he's gone. But, he can't help how badly it hurts. It would hurt anyway because he was manipulated into it. Turned against someone who has been looking out for him. But, Jason, as far as he knows, felt like Crane figured they were still on the same side. This doesn't feel that way. That's when Jason is realizing that's the point. Jason does the dirty work so Crane can be up at the top, hands clean and filled with the power Jason served him on a silver platter.

He knew that's all it was but maybe a part of him still believed otherwise and for the life of him, he has no idea why.

"Gotham will be saved." Crane starts his walk towards Jason, holding his scythe so it doesn't drag on the floor. "But first, it must be destroyed. As clever hopes expire, waves of fear and anger circulate over the bright and darken the lands of the earth." Crane explains as he uses the chain to sway the scythe back and forth while he paces in front of Jason.

"What the fuck kind of gibberish is that?" Jason quips back not even entirely sure if Crane is actually coherent.

"No," Crane says quickly, turning to face Jason. "No, not gibberish. No, it's the past come to life in the present." Crane pauses and Jason realizes how completely fucked he is. "An ode to the bat and his wee bird. When they stopped me, but they can't stop me now. No." Crane is looking away from Jason and Jason is starting to wonder if Crane is talking to him or just talking to himself or some third person Jason isn't aware of. "They can't stop me now...because." Crane shakes his head. "Because we will walk among them. The dead." Crane looks back at Jason and Jason hangs his head, something about him basically being the dead. "And the fallen city will be like...it'll be like a beacon. Very soon, very soon, Jason, very very soon they will die. Yes, they will die."

What the hell is this maniac even talking about?

"Who will die?" Jason asks cautiously.

"All of them!" Crane faces Jaosn as he screams, his entire face turning red. "All of them! Everybody." Crane looks to the floor and this is not how Jason wanted to fix Gotham. The answer isn't gutting the fucking the city. "You still stink of fear. After all that I've given you."

Jason's growing tired of Crane's babbling. It's not making any sense and he wants to get the fuck away from him before Crane tries to slice him in two like the other guy.

"You said I was gonna be a savior." Jason nods his head at him, a hint of disgust in his voice. "Is that your whole plan? Destroy the fucking city?"

"Is that not what it's been about?" Crane states almost whimsically.

"And how the fuck do you plan to do that?" Jason lets out a scoff but Crane just offers him a harsh glare as Jason sees his grip tighten on the chain.

Crane isn't going to tell him anything and even if he does, it'll likely be an incoherent mess like it has been the last few minutes. It was a waste of time, mostly. What Jason does know now is that he wants to destroy the entire city. There are a lot of ways to do that though and that's where he finds himself stuck. But, he can't stick around here. Not when there's no chance of getting a good answer.

"I won't help you destroy the city." Jason holds his stance, firm but calm.

"Well," Crane says with disappointment. "Perhaps you won't." Crane says before there's a pause and then he turns around quickly, throwing a scythe at Jason, still holding onto it by the chain.

Jason dodges just in time, moving quickly away from Crane. Crane follows right after him, swinging his scythe at him and just missing by a few inches. Jason keeps moving away and running, avoiding the blows each time. He does not want his head taken off tonight. That is not the plan. So, he dodges and once he sees the opportunity, he runs out of the Batcave as quickly as he can.

Crane has officially lost it which was only a matter of time before that happened. Jason was hoping they had a little bit more time but, if Crane is losing it, that means he'll be easier to take down. Once Crane starts losing his mind, he gets distracted, starts losing some of the quick thinking he's so proud of. But, Crane has something in place. It's the way he talked about it that tells Jason Crane won't need to do anything else. It's already in motion. So, now he needs to find at least you, Rachel, and Gar and maybe the four of you can figure it out. Maybe you've had some luck with the Lazarus Pit.

Jason hopes you've had luck with the Lazarus Pit.

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