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”Up, up and away!” Jason whooped as he swung between rooftops. It was a dark night, many hours before dawn still. The summer had slowly started to fade which meant the air was pleasantly cool, instead of too humidly warm. His boots were steady on the top of the building he landed on. Jason felt, for the first time in a long time, steady. Free.
It was a quiet night in the alley. He had his input comm channel open but hadn’t heard anything except for some chatter on the main line. No one had called for him. Jason sat down beside an AC unit on the roof and smiled up at the dark sky. The helmet scraped as he put it down beside his boots and pullet out a pack of cigarettes. Twelve left. Jason put one in his mouth and lit it. Eleven. The smoke rose straight up into the sky, almost not disturbed by any wind at all. No, Jason decided, peace was the word. He felt at peace.
A long time ago, during the first year he was back in Gotham, he’d imagined what it would feel like. But even thinking about that period of his life was difficult, not because of what had happened or what he’d done, but because his memories were so foggy. In a way, Jason felt like that was a completely different person. Some days it felt like he was exactly the same. He inhaled deeply, until the smoke reached the very bottom of his lungs. At that time, the only thing he could imagine that would make him feel at peace was to die.
The butt of the cigarette fizzled out. It didn’t seem like there was anything else for him to do out there. He clicked his output channel on.
“I’m turning in. Red Hood out.”
Then he turned the whole thing off and grappled home.
***
Home, his most frequented safe house, was a one bedroom apartment. The small living room was where he kept his books and other favored possessions. There was a couch, where on top of the old bloodstains, was one of Dick’s own blankets. Though, Dick would say it was Jason’s now. Sometimes the two of them shared a post patrol snack there, or one of them would patch up the other’s smaller wounds, those that didn’t need Alfred’s or Leslie’s care. Jason did feel at home there. He was glad.
The next day, the sun actually peeked in through his bedroom curtains when he woke up. It was Sunday, which meant volunteering at the soup kitchen. Jason wanted to do anything he could think of to help his community, but he only had so much time between vigilanteing at night and researching his cases and leads. His occasional visits to the manor.
Jason kept a simple appearance as a normal person. To the other volunteers and to his neighbors he was just Jason; no last name, unknown dayjob, one occasional brother and a slight interest in literature. Smoker. Jason tucked the almost half empty pack in his pocket before heading out.
The soup kitchen had a rotating shift of volunteers since many people didn’t have consistent time to spare, but this day he spotted Ramón and Annie. Jason’s inconspicuous sneakers were as steady on the ground as his boots had last night. He felt at peace. Maybe it was selfish, but he liked being a part of the community he was doing his best to better, even if it was just a front. He liked seeing the familiar faces of ordinary people and being recognized in return.
“Hey Jay!”
And the day went on. Annie was talking about her son, Ramón about his mother, and Jason about nothing at all, really.
“She’ll probably be gone soon, I’ve always known”, Ramón said.
“I’m sorry. Let me know if you need any support, okay? Even if she holds on longer than you think.” Annie kept her hand on his shoulder for a moment longer than necessary.
Jason served another homeless kid food and tried not to think about his own mother. Mothers.
“Ramón,” he said, “do you want to get out of the house? Just for a bit.”
“Yeah, Jay, I’d like that.” There was gratitude in his shimmering eyes. Jason smiled sadly.
“Let me know when you’re free, kay?”
Annie caught his eye and nodded appreciatively. She most likely didn’t have time to spend an evening with Ramón even though she wanted to. Jason would do it for her.
“What about you, Jason?” she asked.
“Oh. Uh, it’s been quiet. Got that water leak fixed.” He shrugged. Even though he kept most of his life secret, there wouldn’t have been much to tell anyways. It really had been quiet.
“I’m glad to hear it”, Annie smiled. “I keep worrying Emmett will damage the pipes when he plays in the kitchen.” They all laughed. The kid must be like a ball of pure energy, Jason mused to himself.
Later in the afternoon the three of them lingered, none eager to head home. Ramón to a dying mom, Annie to a demanding child and Jason to an empty apartment.
“Bum one?” Annie asked, indicating Jason’s pocket. He patted his jacket on instinct to make sure the pack was still there. He pulled it out and offered it to her.
“Sure.”
Ramón took one as well. Nine. Contemplating the remaining cigarettes, Jason was already breathing in the smoke from the other two. Then, there were only eight left.
***
The following night was, as usual, spent outside. Jason was perched on a rooftop looking out over his part of town. If he could call it his. Either way, he’d do what he could until he took his last breath. Maybe literally. He’d decided a while back, that this would be his last pack. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, not as brash and spiteful, no matter what Bruce thought. Jason was mostly tired these days. The nicotine had always felt good, but there was other reasons behind his habit. When he’d started it was because he’d already lost everything. No parents, no home, nothing. Alone in a world where he wasn’t wanted, the last chance he had to get some control over his life was to fuck something up for himself. If he did it first, no one else could get the chance to do it to him. Rather the streets than being stuck in the system. Rather lung cancer than being beaten to death by a cop or Batman. That thought would become more and more ironic the older Jason got.
The world was cruel but Jason had stopped feeling resentful a long time ago. He didn’t deserve more than he had and that was that. Addiction was hard to break, he would know. The longing for love turned into longing for freedom which finally turned into longing for peace. Jason knew the only place he’d find peace. If anyone asked he’d say two birds with one stone with a sly grin. No one asked, of course. The idea of being nicotine free was just for Jason himself. He thought maybe he liked that.
Occasional remarks from the bats’ comm channel made their way to Jason’s ears, but nothing significant. Until footsteps sounded on the roof behind him. A sigh escaped him almost before he registered the presence.
“You left without a word yesterday.”
“That’s not even remotely true. I clearly said I was turning in.”
Dick crouched down beside Jason. He hummed.
“Didn’t satisfy B.”
Jason scoffed. “So why are you here, then?” Dick smiled.
“Even B’s not as stupid to come here himself. Or am I wrong in assuming you would’ve made a scene?” When Jason didn’t answer, he continued. “Look, you’ve been pulling away these last few weeks. When you don’t check in or tell us when you’re injured it’s really hard to not break your boundaries.”
“Yeah, you definitely care a lot about my boundaries.”
“What’s going on?”
Jason glanced at him behind his helmet. Dick looked normal, which probably meant something wasn’t normal. Dick was hard to read at the best of times and Jason knew to be wary.
Any answer Jason could give would be the wrong one.
“What’s it to you?”
“Depends. What’s going on?”
“I’m quitting smoking.”
Dick raised his eyebrows. Looked down at Jason’s jacket pocket and then up again.
“Is that why you’re still carrying around cigarettes?”
“My last pack”, Jason rolled his eyes. “Want one?”
“From your last pack?” Dick gasped with an exaggerated look of flattery. Then he looked more serious again. “Why?”
“Felt like it was time.” Jason cracked his neck absentmindedly. Dick’s eyes narrowed behind the domino mask. They were quiet for a while.
“Wanna turn in early? I’ll pay for pizza.”
That took Jason aback. It almost solidified his theory that something was going on on Dick’s end. Jason knew better than to ask, though.
“Alright. But we’re ordering from the expensive place on fourth.”
“You want a lobster as well? Some oysters and champagne?”
“You said you’d pay”, Jason smirked. Dick grinned back.
***
Dick did pay, but Jason had a strong suspicion it was out of Bruce’s pocket. Which was even better in Jason’s book, if Bruce weren’t so rich he wouldn’t notice if they bought a thousand pizzas. Or lobsters, for that matter. They ate on the couch, adding flecks of grease among the other dubious stains.
“I thought you, and I quote, would ‘never ever quit’.”
“Did you miss the part where I didn’t smoke for almost a year after that? Don’t hold the words of a thirteen year old against me.”
Dick laughed, but there was a melancholic tone to the sound.
“Hey, Jason?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to do something stupid?”
Jason sighed. He was tired. How bad would it be to let some of his guard down? He’d already decided. Maybe peace could come one step at a time for him.
“No”, he reassured. “It’s gonna be okay, Dick.”
“That does not make me feel better in the slightest.”
“Well, that’s what you’re getting.”
They spent the rest of the night in a light mood. They talked shit about B, the weird low tier villains of Gotham, Dick let Jason monologue about books and they argued about movies. Then they sat in amicable silence like only siblings can. Not that Jason was very experienced in brotherhood; some things you just knew.
***
The next five cigarettes disappeared the following week, after he spent an evening with Ramón, talking about everything and nothing. He was talked into helping the bats out on a case. Being in close proximity to Bruce and his brood was annoying on a good day and utterly unbearable otherwise. There were no good days during that stint. Jason avoided Batgirl, Red Robin and Spoiler like the plague. To say Robin was not as bad made Jason cringe, but he’d rather take the kid than have to interact with the rest. Too much bad blood. Oracle was usually fine since he didn’t have to see her face to face, and Dick was Dick. Jason got a bad taste in his mouth and a heavy feeling in his gut every time he saw Dick interact with his siblings, but that was a Jason-problem. And soon, it wouldn’t be a problem at all.
Bruce, unfortunately, was impossible to avoid. Not to say Jason didn’t do his best. He was chewed out by the man more times than hours he spent on the goddamned case. It was the usual: too reckless, too violent, doesn’t follow orders. Jason just clenched his jaw and took it. He hadn’t been more violent than anyone else. He’d followed orders to a T, except for when he jumped into gunfire, to protect the purple girl. Recklessness was an utterly stupid word to use, considering what they all did on a nightly basis.
But he longed so much for the approaching end of it all that he didn’t say a word back. It didn’t matter what they thought about him, Jason finally had something to look forward to.
As dawn arrived behind the smog, Jason sat on the fire escape of his apartment complex. It wasn’t beautiful, really, but it felt like home. He’d grown up with the sunrises of Gotham. His gear was discarded in his flat and he was wearing just his pants and combat boots together with a ratty sweater. It was quiet. Calm.
Jason fiddled with the pack containing the last three of his cigarettes. The few rays of sunlight had started to warm his face. Jason lit the first one. He almost felt like a kid again, those few times he’d been a happy kid. Somehow, he almost felt like crying. As soon as the first one burned out, Jason took out another. He blew smoke up into the sky and felt free. He felt young and unstoppable. So he did what young, unstoppable people do—he finished the cigarette with gusto and lit his very last one.
“Take that!” he yelled to the empty streets. There was a fire burning in Jason, brighter and hotter than the sun. He was young, free, unstoppable and at peace. He was crying.
Inside, it was glum. He had cleaned the apartment a few days prior. Really cleaned it. Jason put his lighter on the coffee table and picked up one of his guns. He took it apart, checked the chamber and put it together again. The magazine was filled. The muzzle was cold as he pressed it to his temple. Safety off. Finger on the trigger. Jason pulled.
***
The noise registered before anything else. Jason’s vision blacked out and didn’t come back until he felt the pain bloom over his skull, so strong he couldn’t focus on any other sensory input. Sound was out of the question. The only thing that existed in the world was the burning, skull-splitting pain. Time did not exist.
He woke up slowly, in the way you wake up after you’ve slept for too long. Everything was fuzzy. The only thing he was certain of, was that he was looking at a white ceiling. That fact didn’t stir any questions, even though it probably should have. Slowly, slowly, Jason started to remember himself. It was confusing and painful. There was a lot of pain. Something touched his hand. Yes, he had limbs. Jason looked away from the white ceiling and saw a man’s face. In fact, a whole man was sitting there.
“Jason?”
Bruce was sitting there. Jason was so utterly bewildered that he wasn’t even irritated.
“What?” he said.
Bruce held up a cup with a straw in it. It took Jason a moment to realize it was for him. For the first time since he’d been Robin, Jason obediently did what Bruce wanted him to do, and he drank the water.
“Good morning”, Bruce said.
“Uhhh…”
“You don’t remember, do you?” Bruce asked with a small, sad smile. “This isn’t the first time you’ve woken up.”
Jason just stared. What the fuck had happened? He remembered working on that fucking case with Batman, but… He couldn’t remember anything going wrong. Not so wrong that Bruce would be sitting by his bedside. He couldn’t think of a single thing that would result in this.
“Where am I?”
Bruce squeezed his hand. It seemed more and more likely that he had either traveled in time or to a parallel universe.
“You’re in the manor. What do you remember?”
“Nothing… What the fuck did you do to me?” Jason wasn’t truly angry, and he did not have the energy to yell, so the question came out as weak as Jason felt. Bruce’s face darkened.
“You were badly hurt.”
“And…?”
Fear was starting to creep in. Jason assessed his surroundings; he seemed to be in a guest room in the manor, outfitted with medical equipment and a few machines that were connected to Jason himself. There was a dull pain in his entire body and it felt like there was a metal vice around his head. If he turned too fast his vision faded out. He kept still.
“Jason, you… you shot yourself.” Bruce’s face looked horrible. He actually looked horrible all over. Then—he shot himself. He had shot himself. The strong taste of tobacco in his mouth, the euphoria and the gun to his head. Jason wrenched his hand out of Bruce’s grip.
“Excuse me?”
Bruce looked genuinely confused at that. Jason stared him down.
“You shot yourself, in the head.”
“Yeah.” Jason paused. “...and I am here, why?”
“Jason. You almost died. This is the first time in a week you’ve been lucid enough to talk.”
“Yeah, okay, I get that.” He was starting to get annoyed. “Why am I here? Why are you here?”
Bruce faltered. “Because you… you tried to kill yourself. And I can’t bear the thought of losing you again without fixing this between us, without getting you to understand how much I love you. Jason, if I hadn’t been there, you would have been dead right now.”
“Why do you think people shoot themselves? Jesus.” He tried to roll his eyes but his vision whited out and he could only sigh in frustration. “Bruce. What the fuck is the problem here?”
“Jason.” Bruce’s eyes were wide and rabid. He didn’t look too good.
“Spit it out! Am I too bad of a person you couldn’t allow me this? Are you gonna forbid me this like normal parents forbid staying up late? I’m not even your kid!”
“Stop!” Bruce roared. To his credit, Jason didn’t flinch. Talk about rabid. “Don’t ever say that. You are my kid wether you like it or not. I don’t care what you think of me, I don’t care what you’ll do to stop me, I will never allow you to die again. Do you hear me, Jason? You cannot die.”
Bruce was so close to him that he felt his sharp breaths of air on his face.
“I love you. I love you so much I think it’ll kill me. Do you understand? Answer.”
The soft pillow under Jason’s head prevented him from backing away. He couldn’t deny that Bruce was, seemingly, serious. Deadly so.
“No.” Jason held up a weak hand to stop a vein from popping in Bruce’s neck. “I hear you loud and clear, but no, I don’t understand. Are you sure you’re not the one with a hole in the head? Why the fuck would you love me? I’m just some guy. No, worse, I’m a guy who soiled the image of a dead kid, I’m the epitome of what you’re against. What don’t you understand?”
“I think”, came a calm voice from the doorway, “that all of us would benefit from a pause in this conversation. Don’t you think?” Alfred stepped into the room carrying a tray.
“Master Jason, I’m so glad to see you awake, my dear boy. So glad.” He put the tray down on the bedside table and took a seat in the vacant chair beside Bruce. “How’s your head? Any problems with your sight or hearing?” Jason’s shoulders slumped. He felt like a puddle, about to drip off the bed.
“It’s okay, Alfred. I’m sorry.” He got a somewhat stern look from Alfred. “It hurts but everything seems to be working.”
“That’s good. I brought you some light soup, try to eat as much as you can.”
Bruce had deflated in his chair. He looked like a balloon that had lost too much air and was looking at Jason with an expression to match.
“I… I’m sorry”, he said. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
Jason looked down into his bowl of tomato soup.
“I’m sorry, too. Thanks for bringing me here instead of… somewhere else.”
Arkham. Blackgate. A cell in the cave.
“I’ll always bring you home, Jason.”
“I’ll make sure you do, master Bruce.”
***
Jason didn’t notice falling asleep, but he did notice opening his eyes to darkness this time. The bowl of soup was gone, along with Alfred and Bruce. Jason leveled himself up to a sitting position. It was hard to make out the wires in the dark, but he could feel them pulling on his skin. He resisted the urge to rip them away when he saw two eyes reflect the dim moonlight. Slowly, Jason met Dick’s gaze.
“That was really fucking stupid, Jay.”
Jason averted his eyes, quickly this time. He fiddled with the blanket.
“You shot yourself.”
“Why does everyone keep telling me that as if I wouldn’t know? I know what I did, Dick.”
“Do you?” Dick scoffed. “Tell me then, tell me exactly what you did.”
Jason furrowed his brow. “I shot myself.”
Then Dick was crying. Quiet tears running down his cheeks, his chest heaving soundlessly. He retrieved something from his jeans pocket and threw it at Jason. It was an empty cigarette pack. Did he want Jason to take care of his trash now?
“You were gonna quit.”
“Uh…”
“I was proud of you. I was glad you’d finally do something good for yourself. But then-” Dick’s voice broke, “then you try to kill yourself.”
Whatever Jason was going to say died in his mouth. Dick looked so goddamn sad. Jason felt like Bruce, completely run out of fighting spirit in the bedside chair. All the strings were cut and the waterworks were opened.
“Dick, I’m so tired”, he sobbed. “I just want to feel at peace again.”
Dick sat down on the bed beside him. “Jason”, he whispered and enveloped Jason in his arms. They held each other until they both stopped crying. There were no words Jason could think to say in this utterly bizarre situation, so he matched Dick’s breathing and waited until the other man fell asleep. Slowly, silently he extracted himself from Dick’s arms. The dark room was spinning but came to a stop after just a moment, at which Jason pulled out the cannulas and wires connected to him. His socked feet carefully found the floor and he stood up, steadying himself with his hands on the bed.
There was a small bathroom connected to the guest room and Jason closed the door behind himself. The light from the lamp made his whole body throb and the pain in his head was unspeakable. The sight of his image in the mirror didn’t make him feel any better; the fuckers had shaved his head. A large bandage covered the right side of it. He looked like a sickly orphan which, he mused, he was.
The outer bandage was relatively easy to peel off, but the inner one stuck to the wound. Jason grimaced and ripped it off, but had to steady himself on the sink to not fall over. It was grisly, but Jason guessed the bullet must have only grazed his head. He looked around the small bathroom and felt anxiety thrum through his body. Hot and cold flashes and all. He didn’t have much time and even less material to work with. He opened the cabinet over the sink. No razors. A toothbrush and a small pill bottle. Paracetamol. Alright, he could work with that. There was no bathtub, only a shower. His hands were shaking but he managed to unscrew the bottle. Jason took one last look into his own eyes when he heard muffled noises through the door and he felt like screaming in frustration. Before he could try to lock the door it opened.
“Jay?”
The discarded and bloody bandages on the floor and the bottle in Jason’s hand must not have painted a pretty picture because Dick looked absolutely horrified.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
Jason was frozen to the spot. Maybe if he didn’t move time would stop and he wouldn’t have to deal with this.
“What the fuck are you doing”, Dick said, stronger this time. He stepped into the room and right into Jason’s space. He grabbed the bottle from Jason’s hands and looked at the label before throwing it on the floor, pills scattering.
“How much did you take, Jason? How much did you fucking take?” Dick gripped Jason’s shoulders and forced him down to the floor. “How much”, he hissed.
“Nothing.”
“You’re gonna throw up right now.”
“I didn’t take any, I didn’t have the fucking time!” Jason cried. Dick pushed him towards the toilet bowl.
“Throw up or I’ll make you, you hear me?”
“Dick, stop!”
Still holding onto Jason’s arm with an iron grip, Dick leaned out of the door and yelled “Bruce!”
Jason stopped struggling and let himself go limp in Dick’s arms. He didn’t want to be a part of anything that was about to happen. If Bruce and Dick wanted him alive then that was their problem to deal with.
“Jason? Jason?” Dick tilted Jason’s head towards himself and cradled his face. “No, no, Jason don’t fall asleep”, he pleaded.
Footsteps thudded into the room, but Jason was disappearing deep into his mind. He wasn’t in the manor, he wasn’t on the floor, he wasn’t in Dick’s arms. He wasn’t anywhere—he refused to be. He was distantly aware of his body being maneuvered but he didn’t react. He wasn’t there. Until a bright light shocked him out of his retreatment into his own body. Hands were on his wrists, a penlight was shining into his eye and Dick looked absolutely furious behind the figure of Bruce, whose face was, thankfully, closed off.
Jason smacked the light out of Bruce’s hand. “Okay, okay, I’m completely fine!”
“It doesn’t seem like he took a dangerous amount, if any”, Bruce said. Dick was silent in the background.
“Is it a crime for the guy with the gunshot wound to want some painkillers? Jesus”, Jason muttered.
“You never take any painkillers”, was Dick’s icy response. Bruce on the other hand, seemed to soften where he sat beside Jason on the bed.
“Talk to me, Jason. What’s going through your head?”
“We gonna do this, Bruce? You really wanna know?” He paused until Bruce nodded. “I was thinking I was finally going to have my happy ending. I was thinking I finally had agency over my own life. I was thinking, maybe, you people had moved on from trying to control my every move!”
The silence settled like a blanket over the three of them very quickly. Jason was almost starting to feel embarrassed about the whole situation.
“Well, obviously I was wrong.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for that, really, my bad. But tell me what I have to do to get out of here. Please.” He avoided looking at either of them, so he didn’t catch Bruce’s movement as fast as he should have and he barely had time to flinch before he was engulfed in Bruce’s embrace.
“Oh, Jason. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it was this bad.” Bruce leaned back and cradled Jason’s face in his hands. “We’ll figure it out.”
This time Jason rolled his eyes through the pain. “Did you even listen to what I just said? This is your problem Bruce, you always just do what you want without consideration for others.”
Bruce was yanked away from his hold on Jason by Dick. “You’re not helping. Just get out of here.”
They seemed to fight an intense internal battle that was so very like them, until Bruce actually raised to his feet and left the room. He was most certainly standing in the hallway beyond the open door, ready to get involved if he wanted to. Jason watched him go with wide eyes.
“Wow. That- I didn’t expect that.”
“I’m so fucking angry at you, Jason”, Dick said. “If you weren’t injured I’d beat your ass to hell and back. Except that’s what you want, right?”
Jason scoffed. “That wouldn’t be my preferred method, but sure.”
“Why?”
“The age old question.”
“No, really, is there nothing in your life worth living for?”
“I guess not.”
“Then why did you wait this long?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Why did you wait this long to kill yourself if you have nothing to live for.” Dick posed the question like a philosophical discussion in a class. He wasn’t even looking at Jason, he was examining his bruised knuckles.
“I…”, Jason faltered. “There were things I had to get done first.”
“Like what?”
“Why are you interrogating me”, he snapped.
“You wanted someone to listen so here I am, all ears. What things did you have to get done?”
“Get enough safe places for the homeless, clean out every last one of the corrupted cops, stop the child-trafficking pieces of shit who seem to be everywhere in that shithole of a neighborhood.”
“That’s it? And now you’re done.”
Jason swallowed. Involuntary he thought of those nights with Dick spent on his couch, of Dick asking if he was going to do something stupid. He thought of Annie and her little boy that he’d never met, of Ramón and talking about dying mothers, of the homeless lady who always smiled at him when he was working at the soup kitchen. But worst of all, he thought of Bruce. He was snapped out of it when Dick took a hold of his hand.
“Isn’t it worth a try to get to do all of those things again?”
They weren’t talking about Jason’s mission to clean up Crime Alley anymore and Jason didn’t know where and when Dick had got the gift of talking people down.
“You talk a sweet bargain, Dick, but do you really think I didn’t try?”
“No. But did you try doing it not alone? Maybe with the people who love you by your side?”
“Don’t say that shit.”
“Look, I know nothing changes over a day. But what have you got to loose by giving a few days to trying?”
“More miserable minutes spent in agony over a life I don’t want.”
Dick smiled. “I know you’re on board when you start quoting dramatic lines like that. Thank you, Jason.”
***
Jason didn’t know if he was more mad at Bruce, Dick, or himself. For humoring Dick, for not being fast enough, for letting himself be handled by these people. Yeah, he was mostly mad at himself. But, loathe to admit it, even to himself, Dick did have a point and if Jason were to ever get another shot at killing himself he’d have to go along with it anyway. No more stupid shit in the manor, otherwise he was going to get locked up somewhere.
“If you don’t finish your food, I’ll have to tell Bruce.”
Tim was the one currently on babysitter duty, which was both a relief and agony. Getting angry wouldn’t solve any of his problems so he kept his mouth shut most of the time.
“Sorry for not really having an appetite.”
“You know-”
“I’ll stop you right there”, Jason interrupted. “I don’t wanna hear it. If you have to be here just don’t make my life even worse.”
Tim raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. Why he looked as tired as the rest of them, Jason had no idea. He really wasn’t hungry, he was nauseous most of the time. His arms and legs were constantly weak and his head was always pounding. He wasn’t allowed any more painkillers than what was explicitly recommended but he didn’t take any anyway. Let the pain distract him. He ignored Tim and closed his eyes.
Jason dreamed of committing suicide and it was always very calming. For some reason it was never with his gun but rather drowning or falling and he always welcomed death with open arms in his dreams. This time though, the stillness of death was broken by a distant voice. No, not again, he thought.
“Jason?”
He didn’t want to come back again.
“Jason.” That was Bruce. “Come out of it, Jason.”
He opened his eyes to find the worried face of Bruce hovering over himself.
“You were crying in your sleep.” Jason tentatively felt the wetness on his cheeks with his fingertips.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“Quite the opposite.”
Bruce paled at that, then he went pink.
“Oh…”
“No!” Jason realized what he had accidentally led him to believe, “No, no, not one of those dreams! Just a normal, happy dream.”
Bruce’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Thank god, I um…”
Jason stared at him in disbelief. That Bruce could still be so utterly, utterly awkward made him want to laugh, or cry, or tear his hair out.
“What was it about?” Bruce tried to save the conversation.
“You wouldn’t like it”, Jason sighed.
“Oh”, Bruce said, and it was such a change from the oh before that it might as well have been an entirely different word.
“How long have you felt like this?”
“Like dying? C’mon, we’re just going in circles at this point. You can’t keep me here forever, Bruce.” Jason covered his forehead with one hand to try to soothe his headache.
“You underestimate my dedication”, Bruce scowled. “Since you came back? Since… before?”
“Since I came back, yeah, and when my life calmed down I had the chance. But… I honestly can’t remember if I ever thought about it as a kid. I know I was happy sometimes, but other times…”
Jason had never contemplated what his feelings were as a kid, just all the awful stuff that happened around him. Or to him. He got through it, he did what he had to do. Though, sometimes…
“I did some research”, Bruce said. “Depression is-”
“Oh my god.” Jason knew very well there was something wrong with him, probably had been since he was a kid. But there wasn’t any chemical imbalance in his brain that made him like he was now; he was a universal abomination. “The problem isn’t some mental illness, Bruce! I was dead. I had what I wanted and it was taken from me. I wasn’t supposed to come back—that’s wrong!”
“Jason, listen to me”, Bruce said, exasperated. “Strange things do happen and I have never been happier than the day I learned you were alive, when I got to see you again. But that’s not the point—you have seen this before, just in other people. Try to see it in yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you Jason, you’re just ill.”
“Are you a clone? A pod person? I’ve never heard you say something like that and I don’t buy it. Did Dick make you take a class?”
“I won’t argue with you but that’s where I stand”, Bruce sighed. “Think about it, Jason, really think about it.” And with that he patted Jason’s leg over the blanket and went back to his phone.
Jason had always been stubborn. If he had decided he would do something, he’d go through with it, and if he had enough evidence to believe something, he believed in it with all his heart. But he wasn’t stupid—he knew to assess, gather information and form new conclusions. So despite everything, something inside him couldn’t help but think about what Bruce said. He knew the signs of depression and suicidal thoughts, he had just never thought about it in relation to himself. It was different though, he wasn’t a normal person with normal issues, he shouldn’t even be here in the first place! But now that Bruce had said it, Jason couldn’t help but notice everything about himself.
***
Alfred had helped him clean the wound after Bruce left and it was apparently healing fine. He was no longer stuck with a massive bandage over half of his head, which was at least something positive. The skin around it was tender and itchy.
“Can you get me a new book or something?” Jason groaned. He was bored out of his mind.
“I got you one, like, yesterday!”
“Yeah!” Jason snarked back, “and now I want a new one.”
“I’m not your servant”, Tim snapped.
“No? Then I’ll tell Dick your presence makes me sad and depressed.”
“What the fuck is your problem, Jason?” Tim closed the laptop he had perched on his knees.
“That I’m stuck here! I don’t need medical care anymore, but I still can’t leave this room without a fucking chaperone.” Jason changed his voice to a lower volume and said, “Help me escape, Tim, I’ll repay you with whatever you want.”
Tim stared incredulously at him. “I’m not going to help you commit suicide”, he said, offended.
“That’s not what I’m asking, you idiot.” Jason covered his face with his hands. “Jesus christ.”
“Well that’s a relief.” Tim opened his laptop again. Jason got up from the bed and started pacing around the room. He had looked at the room enough for a lifetime, but maybe he had missed something. There was the door to the bathroom, the door to the hallway, boring wallpaper, a window with ugly curtains. It didn’t open, Jason had tried.
“What are you doing?” Tim said nervously behind him.
“Looking for something to do.” He followed the molding around the room and found only the smallest amount of dust.
“And you think you’re gonna find it on these empty walls?” There was a pause as Jason continued to walk around the room.
“Hey”, Tim said. “You should cut your hair.” That got Jason’s attention. He turned around to face Tim.
“It’s not short enough as is?” he snorted.
“I was thinking you could trim the sides so you don’t look like a car crash survivor who lives in the wild.”
Jason raised his eyebrows. Tim looked him up and down and shrugged. Jason felt the growing locks of hair by the nape of his neck. It had started to tickle his ears as well.
“Okay. You any good with clippers?”
“I think I can make it work”, Tim smirked. “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared through the door, only to immediately poke his head back in. “If you do something stupid I will bring you back with a Lazarus Pit. I know where the closest one is so don’t even try it.”
If Jason wasn’t so sure he’d win over Tim in a fight he’d have gotten the shivers from the look in his eyes. Fortunately he was, so he went into the bathroom to inspect himself in the mirror. Unfortunately, Tim was right. His buzzed hair had started to grow out into awkward locks that framed his face in a very car-crash-survivor-who-lives-in-the-wild look. No wonder Bruce and Dick still thought he was horribly incapacitated. He heard Tim enter the bedroom and close the door behind him.
“I got the goods”, he said, holding up an electric pair of clippers. “Get the chair.”
Jason sat down in the cramped bathroom in front of the mirror as Tim had his fingers all over Jason’s head as he tried to figure out how the hell you cut hair on people’s heads.
“Hmm.”
“That’s not very reassuring”, Jason grimaced.
“What’s the worst that could happen”, he said and the buzzing of the clippers filled Jason’s ears. He tried to observe what was being done to his hair in the mirror but Tim moved into his line of sight. Hair started falling to the floor and Jason started to regret this course of action. Tim’s tongue was poking out in the corner of his mouth.
“Uh, Tim…”
“This is great Jason, you’re gonna look amazing”, he said absentmindedly. Jason would probably have to shave his head again.
Tim moved to the other side and carefully went around what was left of the gunshot wound.
“Just let me know if it hurts.”
Jason got a peek in the mirror and—it didn’t actually look too bad. He looked at Tim, who moved around him in a t-shirt and sweats, seemingly without a care in the world. Except the care he, for some reason, paid Jason. He gently parted Jason’s hair with his fingers and went so softly Jason started to wonder if any hair was actually being cut. It was strange and kind of sweet, until the door banged open.
“Jason!” Dick yelled. Both he and Tim jumped in surprise and Tim hit him in the head. Dick violently turned Jason’s chair around and grabbed him by the shoulders, felt his neck, chest, face. “What did you do?” he said breathlessly.
“Dick, it’s okay”, Tim said.
“Get off!”
“Tim, what did he do?”
“Dick! Look at him, he didn’t do anything. We’re cutting his hair.”
Dick looked between them with wide eyes. He looked scared, Jason realized.
“Do you think Tim would let me do whatever?” he said gently. “Dick, I’m okay, I didn’t do anything.”
Dick let his head fall down on Jason’s legs and took deep breaths. Jason looked helplessly at Tim, who dropped into a crouch and put a hand on Dick’s back.
“He’s good, you’re good. I was with him”, Tim said softly. Dick did something that sounded like a sniffle and raised his head.
“What happened to your hair?” he frowned. Jason whipped around and went up to the mirror.
“Tim…” he said slowly.
“It was going well until Dick startled me!” Tim tried to defend himself.
“Tim, what the fuck.” Jason observed his new hairstyle, which was apparently a decent side trim with an almost completely shaved spot at the top of his head. “You made me look like I’m balding!”
Tim was eyeing the door apprehensively, with his hands restlessly at his sides. Then Dick burst out laughing. Jason managed to suppress the ridiculous smile that wanted to grace his face and adopted a frown instead. He grabbed the clippers.
“My turn to play hairdresser Timothy, get in the chair.”
“Hey, hey, no”, Tim held up his hands. For all that Jason could feel uncomfortable in a body larger than he remembered, he knew when to use it to his advantage and loomed over Tim.
“Get in the fucking chair.”
Dick stood in the doorway with an innocent air to him that meant he wasn’t going to interfere and Tim knew it.
***
“So, after traumatizing and disfiguring him, do you feel better?” Dick asked. He was lounging in Jason’s bed.
“He disfigured me first so I think it’s fair”, Jason answered from the floor. “Hey, Dick.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. I… I don’t know…” He closed his eyes. The words wouldn’t come out. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I never meant that. I just, didn’t realize all of this affected you like that. What I mean to say is, that I’m sorry, I really am.”
That look in Dick’s eyes, the desperation and panic, it haunted Jason more than anything else. The same thing that he had seen when he tried to swallow the pills that night. Just the thought of it made him feel sick with guilt and shame, because he had put those feelings in his brother. It was his fault.
“I never wanted to hurt you”, he choked out.
“Jason. I’m going to say something you probably don’t want to hear.” Dick sighed. “Of course it hurts me. You hurting yourself, trying to kill yourself, it hurts all of us. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you again, not after you trick me and try to commit suicide right next to me. How did you think that would make me fucking feel?” His voice was hard as ice and Jason felt like he was shrinking at every word Dick said. He was right, of course he was right.
“And of course I know that’s not what your intentions are, but that doesn’t change the outcome. That happened and it will affect us. Jason, I know it’s impossible to see from inside that fog you’re in, I know because I’ve been there, but I’m telling you right now what you would see if you were able to.”
Jason was on the floor in shatters, Dick’s been there? He’s been there? The pain in his chest flared and the only thing he could think of was dying because he didn’t want Dick to tell him all this as if Jason could ever be redeemed.
“Do you know why it hurts me? Because I care about you. It hurts me because it hurts you. It hurts because I can’t fix it. It hurts because it’s love.”
A hand on his hand. “Breathe. It’s okay.” Jason doubted anything would ever be okay. But he breathed.
Dick’s arm was around his shoulders and their hands intertwined. They were breathing together.
“I’m sorry I made you have a panic attack”, Dick said wetly.
“I’m sorry I made you have one as well”, Jason breathed.
“I can’t even count the number of panic attacks I’ve had the last couple of weeks”, Dick chuckled. “But it’s all worth it, if you’re still here.”
“You’re here, too.”
“Yeah, I am.”
***
The first time Jason saw Stephanie after he shot himself, she gave him a purple beanie.
“Tim’s hair!” She exclaimed. “I’ve never seen anything so amazing. Here, now you can match.”
She wasn’t on the rotating cast that wouldn’t leave him alone, but he knew that she frequented the manor. He observed the garment with disdain but he put it on over his freshly shaved head.
“Thanks, but I don’t think this is my color.”
“No, but it’s not Tim’s either”, she grinned. “Watcha reading?”
“Frankenstein.” He held up the book for her observation.
“Wow. Subtle.”
Jason wasn’t very familiar with Stephanie. He knew she was one of the newer Bat associates and Tim’s friend, but he hadn’t ever spoken to her outside of costume. Which is why it was weird that she was talking to him now.
“What’s your deal?” he asked.
“In what sense? Be specific.”
“I don’t know. Any deal you want to tell me about, I guess.”
“Bah. Alright, do you know who Cluemaster is?”
Safe to say, Jason did not get back to reading his book anytime soon. Stephanie had, apparently, had a hell of an upbringing. Jason would feel bad for her if he didn’t know she’d throw hands with him for it, and if he didn’t relate to her so much. Or like her. She was funny.
“—and I know why they’ve been clinging to the manor like leeches but Damian! I’ve had to patrol with Damian! I’m almost thinking of letting him maim me just to get out of it, honestly…”
And didn’t that make Jason feel more selfish than ever? He hadn’t even thought about how he had disrupted more than the daily lives of just Bruce, Dick, Alfred, and occasionally Tim. It also made him embarrassed, that people he didn’t know knew everything about his house arrest. He cleared his throat.
“You do know they’re exaggerating what happened, right? And, uh, good luck with the kid, that’s horrible. Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”
“Who even is your worst enemy?” she asked, ignoring his first statement. Which was a bit of a relief.
“You know I was murdered, right? Wait, do you even know who I am? What did-”
“Oh my god, of course I know who you are! I was messing with you, you know, for trying to gaslight me into believing you didn’t try to kill yours- uh I mean, that you-”
“Let’s just end the conversation here, okay?” He tried to casually hide his face behind Frankenstein. “Thanks for the hat.”
“Um, no problem. See you around, I guess.” Stephanie left the room.
It was harder and harder to convince himself he was waiting, biding his time, until they would let him go. Leaving wouldn’t be hard, Jason had a thousand ways of escaping with enough time before anyone noticed, but for some reason he didn’t.
Cracking his neck, he discarded the book to start pacing. The conversation with Dick, or rather, the conversation Dick had at him kept playing in his mind. He knew it was true, logic deemed it so. He could see it from an outside perspective. But the truth inside him didn’t match up. He wasn’t lovable, even likeable, he was means to an end and he was kept here because Bruce didn’t know what else to do with him. But Dick… He knew Dick wasn’t lying. Two worlds were colliding and Jason was forced between them. One would have to go.
“Master Jason, are you quite alright?”
“Oh!” Jason was only a bit startled. “Yeah, I’m alright. What’s up?” He stopped his pacing but felt awkward just standing around.
“Well, if you’re not preoccupied would you like some tea? I heard you talked to miss Stephanie.” Alfred smiled at him with a sympathetic glint in his eye.
“She’s a riot. I’d love some tea, Alfred.”
Jason got a bit of Stephanie’s history and her relationship with Tim explained. And her relationship with Bruce.
“I don’t know why I’m still surprised when I hear these things. He fucked me over pretty bad but… I don’t know, I still always expect the best from him.” The reflection in his teacup wobbled.
“He is not an easy man to know, I can’t argue with that. Master Bruce has made many mistakes, but he does try to better himself.” Alfred observed his own cup of tea for a moment. “Jason, I hope you know that no matter you relationship with Bruce, you can always come to me. I will never turn you away.”
“This hasn’t been my life for a long time, Alfred… I’m not sure if it ever will be again”, Jason admitted.
“That’s alright, my boy. As long as you’re alive and happy.”
“Yeah”, he swallowed the lump in his throat with a sip of tea. That’s just the problem, he thought.
***
Days were passing slowly. Jason didn’t even know what he was waiting for—for his want to die to disappear, for Bruce to let him leave, or for himself to get off his ass and just get out of the manor. There wasn’t really anything stopping him. The others would try to hinder him, sure, but he was fairly certain he could do it without too much trouble.
He was standing by the window, looking wistfully out at the manor grounds. The leaves had fallen off the trees and they painted the grass yellow and orange.
“Why are you still doing this?” he asked.
Bruce was sitting on the assigned visitor’s chair doing something on his phone. Jason could hear him put it away.
“What do you mean?”
Jason turned around and hoisted himself up to sit on the windowsill.
“This”, he gestured around the room, “babysitting me. Wasting so much time doing nothing but keeping me here. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
“No. I won’t ever get tired of caring about you. And it’s not babysitting, it’s… suicide watch.” Bruce swallowed around the word.
“Still? Don’t you think I could’ve killed myself all this time if I wanted to?”
“Do you want to?”
Jason turned his gaze away from Bruce. “I guess there’s still stuff for me to do. I lost sight of it, getting lost in my own head. I don’t really deserve to rest, do I?”
Bruce stood up and came to stand beside him. “I wish you didn’t want to be alive just to punish yourself. Jason, look at me.”
Jason did. Bruce looked like sadness was etched into his very bones.
“Have you thought anything about what we talked about?”
“Yeah”, Jason sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Bruce, and I don’t really care. Doesn’t change the outcome.”
“But”, Bruce interjected, “maybe it changes what we can do about it?”
Jason shrugged and looked out the window again.
“Any chance I can go back to my apartment?”
Bruce tensed beside him. “Who would you like to come with you?”
Not you, Jason didn’t say. “Whoever is the least overbearing.”
***
The fact that Dick was the one to accompany Jason to his apartment didn’t surprise him but it sure did annoy him. Walking up the stairs and unlocking the door didn’t feel like anything in particular but the familiarity of his home coupled with the smell of stale air and cleaning agents made him freeze in the doorway. He hadn’t thought about any… mess he’d made.
“Jay?” Dick asked behind him.
“Yeah, yeah”, Jason said and shrugged off his jacket as he went inside.
He investigated the floor by his couch when Dick piped up.
“Alfred came here to clean”, he said quietly. “B didn’t exactly tell me much but uh, head wounds bleed a lot.”
Jason turned around. “B was the one who stopped me?”
“Yeah”, he chuckled humorlessly.
Jason didn’t know what to feel about that. He’d kind of assumed it must’ve been Dick but he avoided thinking about it.
“Well, the couch is yours.” And with that he disappeared into his bedroom.
When he ventured out again, ready to face the afternoon, Dick had cleared out his fridge of expired food.
“Hey, you wanna get something to eat?”
“Nah”, Jason said, “I got other plans. Headin’ out.”
Dick was right on his heels to the door.
“Where?” he asked and shrugged on his jacket at the same time Jason did.
“You’re not coming.”
“I’m not allowed to venture out in Gotham now?”
Jason gritted his teeth. The walk to the soup kitchen wasn’t long, but long enough to start wondering whether he’d be bombarded with questions about his absence or his tag-along, and which would be worse. He hadn’t been gone that long, only a couple of weeks. Right? He didn’t really keep count. Oh, Ramón! He hadn’t thought about him during all this time, what if—
“Jay!”
Jason was engulfed in Annie’s arms before he knew it.
“Where have you been?” she asked as she pulled away, and then “Oh my god, what happened?”
“I, uh, I had an accident”, Jason tried.
“Well, next time you could let us know! We thought…” she faltered as she finally noticed Dick, who was glued to Jason’s side.
“Hi”, Dick smiled and extended his hand. “I’m Dick. Jason’s brother.”
“Annie.” She glanced at Jason with a wicked smile. “So this is the brother, huh?”
“Today he’s a leech”, Jason muttered. Dick looked entirely too pleased with himself.
They busied themselves with chopping vegetables while Jason tried to keep the conversation between Dick and Annie minimal. Ramón wasn’t there.
“What kind of accident did you have? It looks like you’ve had brain surgery.”
“It’s a long story”, Jason side-stepped the question and glared at Dick to let him know what would happen if he had a slip of tongue.
“No pressure, Jay”, she said, voice full of compassion that made Jason uncomfortable. If she knew she wouldn’t be so kind.
“How long have you two known each other?” Dick asked, but directed the question at Annie.
“It’s been a year or two now, yeah? Inevitable here”, she laughed.
“Well, someone had to teach you how to properly cut an onion. Fuck, it was bad!”
They fell into easy banter while preparing the food. Other volunteers flittered around, some of them welcoming Jason back. More people smiled at him than he had ever experienced before, it felt like. When they were handing out meals an old woman gripped his hand and said she was glad to see his face. His face, the ugly mug he cringed away from in the mirror. The scars that marred him.
Dick’s hand was on his shoulder. Annie looked at him.
“You’ve been missed, Jay”, she said.
“Hey, let’s take a break”, Dick coaxed. “Drink some water, yeah?”
“Sure”, Jason said. “You coming Annie?” He didn’t particularly want to have a Conversation with Dick at the moment.
They stepped out and Jason quickly emptied his water bottle. Having Annie beside him felt normal, if he just kept Dick out of eyesight. It was normal, he told himself.
“Hey, bum one?” Annie asked.
“Oh. Uh, I quit.”
“Really?” Annie’s eyes widened. “Who would’ve thought, Jay, great job!”
“It wasn’t really… I mean, it… Thanks”, Jason finally said.
***
Before they left, Annie demanded Jason give her his phone number.
“If you disappear again I wanna be able to know if you’re dead.”
Jason could feel Dick’s eyes burning into his back as he typed his number into Annie’s phone. If he just didn’t look at Dick maybe he wouldn’t say something.
“I’ll have him text you my number as well”, Dick told Annie. “You can contact me if he disappears again.”
“Oh, thanks”, Annie said. She glanced at Jason.
“He’s joking, obviously you don’t need my brother’s number.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind.” Annie and Dick shared a smile Jason didn’t appreciate in the slightest. Like they both knew something about him and thought it was funny.
“She was nice”, Dick said as they walked home.
“Stop.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“No, but you thought it. Don’t text her.”
“She cares about you.”
Jason’s skin crawled at the comment. He didn’t say anything back and Dick finally seemed to get it and shut his mouth as well.
He was “forbidden” from patrolling, not like he was in any shape to go on patrol anyway. When they got back to the apartment Jason went straight to his bedroom. The book he’d been reading before was on the nightstand. It was strange. It was also strange that Dick was in the living room, just hanging out. It kept Jason on edge. He couldn’t slip up in any way because then Dick would drag him back to the Manor. He also knew that he couldn’t keep up this weird facade he had going on forever. He stomped back into the living room. Dick looked up from his laptop.
“So, what’s it gonna take?” Jason asked. Dick just looked at him. “What’s it gonna take for everything to go back to normal?”
“There’s no going back to normal”, Dick said, like it was obvious.
“Of course there is! You can’t stay here forever and Bruce can’t keep breathing down my neck forever either.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, but I won’t leave and neither will Bruce. Get it through your thick skull Jay, we care about you.”
“Well, can you stop? I didn’t ask for that.”
Dick stood up. “You have no say in what other people feel about you! Too bad, Jay, but you can’t do anything about it. Get used to it.”
The need to cry suddenly washed over Jason. “I don’t want it, stop it!” he yelled, like a child. “Just stop, stop. I don’t want it.”
He crumpled to the floor, pissed off that tears were running down his face. He was so fucking mad and it hurt deep inside his chest. The feeling was to big, too intense, too much of everything, and Jason was so small that he disappeared in it. “Stop”, he cried. “I want it to stop.”
There was a hand on his back. Jas hated it and reveled in it. Dick cared about him. Dick wanted him to be okay. Dick had done so much for him.
“I think I want to live.”
Dick enveloped Jason’s shaking form in his arms.
“I’m so glad”, he said. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.”