Chapter Text
“I’m so sorry.”
Dick Greyson held an umbrella in his hand as he stood in the cold, dark rain. The entirety of Gotham seemed to be weeping, and Dick couldn't blame them. He clenched his fist, and gritted his teeth, trying to stop the tears from flowing. Bruce had left hours ago, cold and unfeeling as always, leaving him alone in this graveyard of misery.
Here lays Jason Todd.
That was all it said. No beloved son. No beloved brother. Bruce didn't think any of that was necessary. They hadn't gotten into an argument about it, and of course, Dick had lost. Dick closed his eyes for a moment when he saw the faint blue glow that had become so familiar to him.
He took a deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. And slowly opened his eyes. There, sitting on top of the tombstone, swinging his legs back and forth, was Jason. He wasn't alive, of course. His skin was a grayish blue, and the whites of his eyes had turned black as the night. He was wearing the Robin suit. Not the usual red, green, and yellow one, though. He was wearing the red and black one. The one he had died in. Blood poured from his forehead, and his domino mask was broken. Jason tilted his head to the side, as if studying Dick. Dick knew this habit of his well. Jason alway did it whenever he was thinking.
"You can see me." Jason said, simply, he voice stranded echoey, as if he was speaking through water. It sounded so much like him, but didn't at the same time.
"Yes, I can."
"I tried calling you, the night it happened, but it went to voicemail." Jason said, calmly, too calmly.
Dick flinched at the reminder. He had been replaying that night in his head, over and over again. Dick had heard his phone ringing, but when he saw that it was Jason, he let it go to voicemail. He had just had a huge argument with Bruce, and needed space from them. I will call him back in the morning, He had thought at the time. How could he have known that that would be the night Jason stopped living.
"I know." Dick replied. He didn't beg. He didn't make any excuses for not being there when Jason needed him. He choked out, "I'm sorry."
Jason remained silent for what felt like and eternity, before he said, "I know you're sorry…"
Jason jumped off of his headstone, hovering a foot above the ground. He moved closer to Dick, and placed his hands on his shoulders. Dick shivered as freezing cold shot through his body at the contact. Jason rested his head on Dick's shoulder, while wrapping his arms around his neck.
"Is it cold?" Jason asked, almost sounding like he was concerned.
"Yes."
"Good!" Jason replied, cheerfully before turning somber, "That means your still alive. Well, unless you died from the cold."
"What do you mean?" Dick asked, warily. Dread filled him, and he had the terrible feeling that he wouldn't like the answer. He began walking away from the graveyard, Jason still attached to him. Ghost could only leave their resting place while attached to a person.
"Well,…it…it's kinda…hard to explain," Jason hesitated, unable to find the right words, "When a person dies, they…they get frozen…in time…at the moment of their death."
"What does that mean exactly?"
Jason sighed as if tiredly, and said, "Nevermind. It's not important anyway."
Dick turned his head to look at his younger brother, keeping a steady walking pace, and saw Jason with his eyes closed. He sighed, and faced forward. He had known that Jason would show up, or at least he had hoped. That was why he had stayed at Jason's grave hours after Bruce had left. He hadn't wanted to believe that Jason was truly gone, but now that the kid was literally leaning on him for support, he had no idea what to say.
Dick suddenly had an idea. He started humming the lullaby he used to sing to Jason at night. Before everything went wrong. Before Dick had his falling out with Bruce, and left Jason alone in that cold manor. Dick's heart thrummed painfully in his chest at the thought.
He had abandoned Jason.
{ ~ >^^< ~ }
Jason lifted his head slightly upwards, and small smile spreading across his face as he listened to Dick's soft humming. He couldn't remember the last time he had heard it. It felt like an eternity. He laid his head back on the shoulder of his older brother, and started thinking.
He didn't really know how to feel about Dick being nice to him after his death. Especially when his brother had been so cold to him during the last few months of his life. Why now? Why after he had gone and gotten himself blown up by the Joker did Dick finally decide to care about him? Jason sighed softly, and noise barely audible, but the bats always had good hearing, so naturally, Dick turned to face him.
"Is everything alright?" Dick asked softly.
But this only caused a spark of anger to go through Jason. Of course, he wasn't alright. He was fucking dead, and his older brother was being so confusing. Why was Dick acting as if everything was normal between them. Jason let out a frustrated yell, before disappearing from Dick's view. He hadn't left, but Dick could no longer see him.
{ ~ >^^< ~ }
Dick watched as he younger brother vanished, and lowered his head. Tears threaten to fall, and he bit his lip. He knew that he had no room to feel sorry for himself. He had never treated Jason right. He knew that. Dick knew that Jay was still there. The freezing cold sensation of the undead continued to linger around his shoulders. He felt so stupid. How could he ask his brother that. Of course, Jason wasn't 'alright', he was dead.
Dick continued walking down the street of Gotham, towards Wayne Manor. Well, that was another thing to be upset about. Jason hadn't been buried in the family cemetery. The chill on his shoulders got impossibly colder, as if Jason were thinking the exact same thing. The coldness of the undead was entirely based on the mood of the ghosts. Happy ghosts are almost lukewarm, but angry ghost were as cold as the darkest depths of space. Jason were probably a mix of sadness, anger, and confusion based on his temperature.
As Dick was thinking this, the manor came into view, and he had to steel himself before stepping closer. He didn't want to be in this luxurious house. Especially when his younger brother was dead. It didn't matter if Jason became a ghost. This place brought back some bad memories, like how he treated Jay when they met. Dick took a deep breath, and walked towards the large iron gate. The gate swung open as he approached; Bruce had given them sensors that would allow them in the manor at any time.
He walk to the front doors, and was about to knock, when the door opened from the inside. Alfred moved out of the way to let him in as he said, "Master Richard, it is a pleasure to see you returning home. Though, I wish it were under better circumstances. Would you like some tea?"
Dick nodded, and followed Alfred to the kitchen. He sat down heavily in one of the chairs at the countertop. Alfred moved around the kitchen with a practiced ease as he prepared the tea. Dick rested his head on the table as he felt Jason's spread throughout the room. Alfred didn't acknowledge the sudden shift in temperature as he gently placed the cup of freshly brewed tea in front of Dick. Dick stared at the cup for a few moments before sitting back up. He brought it to his mouth, and hummed at the sweet taste. He took small sip, and finished the glass in a few minutes. Alfred took the cup from him.
As Alfred was cleaning the inside of the cup with a cloth, Dick asked, tentatively, "Alfred?"
"Yes, Master Richard?" Alfred responded without looking up.
Dick took a deep breath, and finally asked the question he had been wanting to ever since he found out about Jason's death, "Was I a bad brother?"
Alfred looked up, and stared at Dick for a few moments. He returned to cleaning the glass as he asked, "Do you wish for me to be honest, Master Richard?"
Dick nodded, saying, "Yes."
He had to hear an outside opinion. The temperature in the fluctuated slightly. Jason. For a moment, Dick wondered if Jay was curious about Alfred's answer.
Alfred sighed softly, and said, "In the simplest of terms, yes, you weren't the best brother towards Master Jason."
Dick's entire body slumped downward at the words. He had known the answer. But, it hurt for more to actually hear someone say it.
Alfred continued, "But, that doesn't mean that you should beat yourself up over it. No one is a great elder brother. I certainly wasn't towards my younger brother."
Dick's eyes widened, "Really?"
Alfred simply nodded.
"I didn't even know you had a brother."
Alfred seemed to shift ever so slightly, and Dick decided to stop talking.
Alfred looked at the grandfather clock, and said, "You should be getting to bed, Master Richard. You have had a very long day today."
Dick nodded, and stood up. As he left the kitchen, the cold wrapped around his shoulders, and he knew that Jason was with him. Or, at least his ghost was. He walked up the fancy stairs, and closed to door to his room with a soft click.
Jason reappeared after the door was closed. He was sitting on top of the desk, swinging his legs back and forth just like he had on the gravestone. Dick tried to look at him, but his eyes wouldn't leave the ground.
"I'm so sorry."