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jasntodds · 2 months

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Petrichor [16]

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

Words: 13,749

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, blood, gunshot wound, a little bit of gore, mentions of death, panic attacks, hurt/comfort

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: Hey!! lmao so sorry for the super late update. I was sick and then some personal stuff happened and then I thought I got covid so yeah hi lol I'm so sorry lol This chapter was like 20k+ words so I split it into two because that was a lot 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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Jason is stuck pacing back and forth in the room he’s calling a bedroom now. Worry has taken every part of him as his hand grips his phone like a vice. It’s been hours. He hasn’t heard from you or Dick or Gar. He hasn’t heard from anyone and he’s tried calling you seven times. But, your phone is off and your phone is never off. That is the one thing about you, your phone will never be off unless there is a reason for it and being hurt isn’t a good reason. Not to you. The only time your phone even dies is…never. Jason thinks about it and he doesn’t think you’ve let your phone even reach 20% in the entire time you’ve known each other. He thinks it’s probably so someone can always find you and you can always call for help because you’re almost paranoid about it dying. Your phone doesn’t die.

That leaves Jason thinking the worst of the worst. If your phone is off, that means it has to be dead or you shut it off for some reason but that’s uncharacteristic of you. So, he thinks maybe it did die and if it died, that’s because you didn’t charge it. If you didn’t charge your phone, it’s because you were physically incapable of charging it. What if something really bad happened? What if you were shot somewhere else? Jason knows Crane wanted you taken care of, maybe he shot you twice but you’re really good at hiding your pain when you need to. Adrenaline probably kicked in and shock, you were scared for Tim. Maybe you didn’t realize how bad it was. What if there was a complication of some sort and something bad happened?

Jason’s mouth starts to water as his eyes burn. His brows pinch together hard as his teeth grind so hard his jaw starts to ache. He was brought back. But, a part of him really hates that he was. Would you want to be brought back? If you died, would you want to be brought back like him? Jason comes to a stop, trying to steady his own breathing as his leg aches and burns. The scars on his chest feel like he’s being cut open again. What if you don’t want to be brought back but Jason did anyway? What if you did, and he does nothing?

What if you did die?

If you did die…Gar would call him, right?

Gar would definitely call, Jason assures himself. Gar would call immediately if something were happening. He has the number now and Jason’s ringer is on with the vibration set to strong. He has no missed calls but he’s certain Gar would call. If not, he would have called Molly and Molly would have found a way to call Jason. If you were dead, one of them would call him.

And then Jason swallows his own heartbeat as his phone starts ringing.

Gar.

“Hey.” Jason clears his throat, trying to keep himself together as he tries to prepare himself for the worst news he’ll ever get.

“Is she there?” Gar asks and Jason can hear the worry etched in his voice.

“Uh…no?” Jason questions and he’s not sure if he should be relieved or panicked with Gar not knowing where you are. At least he’s not calling to tell Jason you’re dead but that does not rule out you bleeding out in a ditch somewhere. “I told her to go with you.”

Gar sighs on the end, running a hand through his hair. “She took off. I thought maybe she went to find you but she was hurt and she’s not answering her phone. Molly hasn’t heard from her either.”

Jason already figured you wouldn’t go to Molly. If you went to Molly, she would worry, give you a look you don’t like, and you’d run away again anyway. The last thing you’d want to do is drag Molly into it further. But, Jason really hoped you’d have listened for once and just went with Gar. Or at least sent a text to one of them to let them know you’re okay or not.

“She hasn’t been around.” Jason keeps his voice quiet and he looks around his room as if the answer is going to be written on the walls.

“Uh…hey, I know this…might not be what it’s for, but can you track her? She was shot and we’re all really worried.” Gar’s voice is hesitant as he scrunches his nose, hating the idea of having Jason do it. It feels like an invasion of privacy, especially Gar being the one to ask but it’s a last-ditch effort.

Of course, Jason’s been thinking about it. But, something in him can’t get himself to do it. On the small chance you did shut your phone off, that means you don’t want to be found. Jason can’t overstep, he can’t intrude on you. Even if he is desperately wanting to because you could be dead. He thought maybe he’d give you twenty more minutes and then he’d just do it anyway.

“Have you looked for her?” Jason asks, eying his tablet you left out.

“No, I called you first.” Gar admits. Honestly, Gar doesn’t even know where to look but he knew Jason would.

With no one out looking for you, maybe they don’t have to track you and possibly invade your privacy. If you’re just blowing off steam or punishing yourself, Jason knows exactly where you’ll be. He figures, if him, Gar, and Molly can’t find you within an hour, checking all of your spots, he’ll use the tracker.

“Okay, you and Molly go look for her at her usual spots. Molly’ll know ‘em and I’ll check a few others. If we don’t find her in an hour, I’ll track her.” Jason nods his head on the other end.

“Do you think we’ll actually find her? I mean you know how she is.” Gar isn’t trying to be pessimistic but it’s been hours and he thought for sure, you would be with Jason.

Jason can feel the panic attack starting to course through his blood. His heart is racing and his hands are growing clammy and he’s getting unreasonably angry. It is not Gar’s fault because even on a good day, getting you to listen is like pulling fucking teeth, especially when it has to do with taking care of yourself. Jason knows this better than anyone but he’s mad anyway and he knows it’s the panic attack. You were fucking shot and he took off so he’s mad at himself for listening. And he’s mad that you were shot and Gar didn’t stop you. He can turn into a fucking tiger for fuck’s sake, couldn’t he have turned into a tiger to stop you? Tackled you to the ground and pinned you there, dragged you to the manor kicking and screaming if that’s what he had to do. You were shot and maybe you’re dead now and he didn’t help. And Jason didn’t fucking help.

“Fuck! Gar, then you should have fucking followed her!” Jason snaps and immediately feels bad about it but any part of him that should apologize is washed over with guilt and regret and more anger. “Just go fucking look for her with Molly and I’ll look other places.” Jason grabs his coat from the bed and heads for the door.

“Where should we start?” Gar is quiet on the other end.

“The zoo.” Jason spits right back without even thinking. “Start there, then the harbor and I’ll–” Jason cuts himself off as he swings the door open, seeing you right in front of him with bloodshot eyes and blood-stained clothes and hands.

Gotham never sleeps. It never stalls. Everything is always moving, always loud. There is always something going on, people always going from one spot to the next in their lives. In some ways, it’s a little comforting. A reminder that you are here. You are here and alive like all of the people you passed on your walk here living their own lives. On the other hand, you wish it were quiet sometimes. You wish it were quiet sometimes because everything seems too much sometimes and your skin crawls while your heart feels like it’s going to beat out your chest. Your head spins and everything feels too much. But, it was quiet in the basement. It was quiet in the tower before you were attacked. It was quiet in the tunnels. It was quiet when you found Jason. It was quiet when Tim was shot. Maybe quiet is the surrounding air grieving for the mess fate’s created.

So, you stand in Jason’s doorway because quiet with him, alive and breathing, has always been the safest place to be. You stand weakly, haunted by everything that’s happened as the very idea of existing physically pains the deepest parts of your heart.

It’s hard to go through the same shit all the time. You’re just supposed to be fine with it. It’s happened before and you got over it, so you can get over it again, right? At some point, someone reaches the end of their rope and you think you might be there. It is the same pain over and over again and it never gets any easier. Time passes and it all just hurts anyway. People say time heals everything but you don’t think that’s true because you think about your mom dying and it’s like the wind’s been kicked from your chest all over again. You remember Jason’s body and it’s like you're being waterboarded. Time doesn’t heal anything. It’s not even like you’re used to it. You were just traumatized and avoid thinking about everything so it doesn’t fucking hurt so much. But, even that’s just exhausting. Existing is hard and tiring and painful.

Maybe you’re just tired of being in pain.

Your bottom lip starts to quiver and you always felt safest with him. Even from your own thoughts. You never felt too much pain around him. He always knows exactly what to do and it’s all too much right now. Being alone doesn’t work anymore. So, you stare up at him as Jason’s brows pull together with a cross between worry and relief.

“Jason?” Gar calls. “You there?” Gar asks.

“I got her.” Jason says. “She’s here. I’ll call you later.” Jason says quickly before hanging up. “Hey.” Jason’s voice is soft and careful, noticing you’re not making eye contact with him.

You walk the couple of feet up to him as Jason keeps his stance, almost ready to do whatever you’ll need. And all you do is lean forward and rest your forehead against his chest. Jason lets out a breath and you’re able to pull one in for the first time. Jason rests his hand on your back, rubbing up and down slowly as he hears you sniffle against him.

“Gar was calling in a search party. Where the fuck were you?” Jason asks and he should have some sort of bite in his voice but he’s too worried and too relieved.

You look back up to him and shake your head. “Walking. I couldn’t-I couldn’t…do it.” Your jaw squares as you try to hold back your own tears. “S-sorry..I-I didn’t mean to…to, uh, worry you guys. I-I just…just couldn’t.”

Jason nods with understanding, looking you over and it doesn’t look like you took care of the gunshot wound. Your clothes are soaked and your hair is an utter mess. There’s blood on your face and he swears your cheeks are stained with tears and you actually look cold.

Jason rests his hand on your cheek and you finally meet his eyes. “You alright?” Jason asks softly.

“Hurts.” You mutter and his hand almost feels like it’s burning your cheek. He’s so warm.

“The gunshot?” Jason questions, almost afraid of the answer.

“Everything.” You answer weakly with defeat.

You've never seen his look on him before. His jaw is squared but it’s soft rather than harsh like he’d been trying to shatter his own teeth. His brows are pinched but not completely pulled together and they’re aimed downward, etched in worry. His eyes are scanning you over every few seconds as if he’s stuck between thinking you aren’t really here and terrified something really bad is about to happen. Jason Todd worries and you've seen him worried plenty of times but this is different. You've seen him scared, too, plenty of times. More times than you can really count. But, this is different. It’s a different look and it’s because it’s you. And that look alone, chops and hacks at the barrier holding you together until it finally crumbles at your feet.

“It’s all my fault, Jay.” You sputter as you feel your eyes starting to water again. “It’s all my fault and I really fucked up and Tim could die or he did die. I don’t even know cause I left and I’m a fucking coward for leaving and it’s all my fucking fault.” Your mouth waters and you can’t look at his eyes because it’s all too much. “And there was so much…blood again. And the last time…it was you and it was horrible and I lost you and I couldn’t do it again and it just hurts all the time.” You suck in a shaky breath. “And-and Gar would say it’s not my fault and he’d give me the look but it is my fault. And Dick would be mad at me and I deserve it but I can’t hear it right now because I don’t know if I can handle it. And….it’s just-it’s just my fault. And I don’t know if could save him but I tried and I tried to save you, too.” You sputter before a sob finally rips through your throat. It bounces against the walls in a strangled and broken wail as if the very life you've lived has finally taken its toll on you for the last time. Jason isn’t sure he can listen to it because it physically pains him to see and hear you like this.

“Y/n.” Jason tries to get out but you shake your head.

“I tried really fucking hard to save you and it didn’t work. And I had to call Bruce and beg him to help me and he couldn’t and it was so fucking horrible and painful and scary.” You try to suck in a breath as tears scatter down your face. Everything is just wet and ugly, and burning. “It was so bad and I was so alone.” You suck in a ragged breath, your voice cracking and breaking between sobs. “Because Molly didn’t know and fuck Bruce and Gar wasn’t here. I was so alone and it was so scary because there was so much blood and brain matter.” Jason almost winces hearing it. “I don’t know if I would have been able to recognize you if you didn’t have the fucking Robin suit. It was so fucking bad and it hurts to think about and believe it happened but you’re here. And then Tim gets shot and there’s so much blood and I had to ask Dick to help and it’s like I’m there with your body again and it’s scary and it’s painful and I hate it. I hate how much it hurts. I hate doing this. I hate that it keeps happening.” Your chest heaves as you look at Jason with tears soaking your cheeks and your eyes finally meet his. And all Jason can see is defeat. “What if it just keeps happening?”

Jason shakes his head and every single time he is reminded you were the one that found him, he sends himself into a guilt-ridden spiral. Of course, you found him. That isn’t the issue. The issue is what it looked like from your perspective and the devastation it caused. He knows. He knows what it is like to find someone you love dead. He knows and it’s horrible and painful and devastating. It makes someone feel completely hopeless and helpless and useless. There has never been a time where he felt more helpless. And then he put you in that same position, not on purpose. But, he did and it was worse because it was gorey and traumatizing and he left you. He didn’t realize how badly it had traumatized you. It traumatized him, too but it affects you.

Dying doesn’t just happen to the person that’s dead. It happens to everyone around them.

“I’m so sorry.” Jason says softly, sliding his hand off your cheek. He shakes his head, biting his own tongue because he almost wants to cry with you. “I’m fucking sorry.” Jason wraps his arm around your shoulders as he pulls you into him. He’s careful not to hug you too tight, minding the gunshot wound he knows he’ll be taking care of for you later. “You’re not coward.” Jason manages to get out as he tries to come up with an answer for you even though he doesn’t think he’ll ever have one. The reality is that it will keep happening.

“Yeah, I am.” You argue back before you look up at him. “What fucking person just leaves as their friend is bleeding on the ground?”

“Someone who’s fucking traumatized.” Jason bites back. “Someone who was also fucking shot and in shock. You tried to help him and me knowing the shit you’d get for it. You fucking knew I went after the Joker and you show up alone, ready to take him on by your fucking self if you had to. You think that makes you a coward? What’s that make me then, huh?” Jason questions back, knowing you’ll never think of him as a coward, even if he sees that in himself sometimes.

“Not a coward but that’s different.” You argue.

“Fucking how?” Jason spits back. “You left Tim with Dick and the rest of the Titans who would know what to do. You were also fucking shot.” Jason shakes his head.

Jason wonders if this is what it's like dealing with him sometimes. Going round and round, circling the drain into a self-destructive spiral that only seems to have one result. It's not that he minds, it's that you think this. You're anything but a coward and Jason can't even figure out how you could think otherwise. You always do what you think is best for yourself and for the people you care about. Always. And you fight tooth and nail, as hard and as fast as you possibly can for what you believe. That's not cowardly.

“I-I know but…” You sniffle as you shake your head. “H-how can I keep doing this? I mean…losing people and the blood and….how can I do this for other people when I can’t even save the people I love?” You ask bluntly. “That’s shit, you know? We’re supposed to be out helping people and…and I can’t even…I fail with the people that matter. So, what’s the point?”

Jason would be lying if he doesn't question what the point is half the time, especially over the last few days. What's the point of living if this is even how it plays out? Pain and chaos, destruction and lonelienss. It's all pretty miserable, actually. But, he holds on anyway because it wasn't always like this.

Shit gets bad and then it gets better and yeah, it is exhausting sometimes. But, it's always gotten better. Jason doesn't know how much better it'll get from here now but he won't tell you that. He just knows he wakes up and he tries because you were nearly beaten an inch from your life and you find so much joy and love in small things that that alone seems to give Jason some sort of hope. And because Gar's family was killed and Gar was experimented on and he is the most optimistic person he has ever met. And because Molly lived on the streets with the death of her parents and Molly is the nicest person Jason has ever met. If all of these people can just be better after everything, than he can't very well just give up. And you can't either. Maybe there isn't a point but you'll never know if you give up.

“You know what you told me? You are the one that said sometimes we fail, that’s part of the job. But, we try.” Jason licks his lips as he sucks in a breath. “You talked me off the roof. Maybe Deathstroke would have tried to kill me or done worse shit if it weren’t for you. Fucking Pete Hawkins bullshit. The kid at Jerry’s. You were the one that fought tooth and fucking nail to save Gar. And you did, by the way. You saved Tim at Excellent Gotham. You failed two fucking times but by my count, you win more often.”

“Three times.” You correct him, earning you a glare. “Gar got kidnapped, we failed then…too.”

“You were both tranquilized and they used kryptonite on Krypto. I don’t think that counts.” Jason nods his head.

“I guess.” You let out a breath, looking to your shoes. “I just, uh,” You sniffle as you shake your head, looking back to him. “I just want the pain to stop.” Your voice cracks again.

Jason doesn’t say it, but he does, too. So, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him.

You press your cheek to his chest, wrapping your arms around him as your breathing is still rapid and ragged. But, you can hear his heartbeat in between breaths. It’s fast but steady. A lot quicker than it usually is but it is there. A few more tears leak out as you count his heartbeat and are fully engulfed by his warmth. You hadn’t realized just how numb you had gotten from the cold until now. Your fingers and toes are starting to feel like painful pins and needles. Your arms are burning and your cheek sting from the salty tears. It’s as if you're thawing from his warmth. Between that and his steady heartbeat, you calm yourself down.

“I can try to help.” Jason whispers softly. “If you’ll have me.” Jason pulls away just enough to look down at you and your eyes meet his.

You told him before that you’d come for everything that ever hurt him if it came to it. Anyone that ever wanted to hurt him, would have to go through you. Because he was just Jason Todd to you. It didn’t matter that he could -- should have been able to -- take care of himself. And Jason knew that’s how it was for him, too. Anyone who wants to hurt you, has to go through him. But, the problem is that someone did hurt you…because of him. And he hurt you. Right now you're in pain and it’s because of him. It’s not right and it’s not fair to you but Jason wants to protect you. He’d cut out pieces of his heart and glue them to yours if it would make you feel better. He would do anything in this world if it would make your pain less. Any form of pain that wants to come for you, is going to have to go through him first. From now on.

You nod your head. “Always.” You croak out.

“Come on.” Jason releases his arms and cold rushes itself right back over your body. “Sit on the bed, I’ll grab you some clothes and supplies to clean that shit. We’ll start there.”

“Thanks, Jay.” You mutter softly, walking to the bed and Jason watches you carefully.

He wonders if this is how it always felt for you. He’d come home bloody and bruised, weak and pitiful. Scared and in pain. He never said anything but Jason knows you always knew. Somehow, you always knew when he was hurt and scared. But, it was always him walking through the door hurt, not you. And it was you that would stitch him up. Sure, he’s helped you with your hands, but you did it at least twice a week for months. And you never complained. But, Jason wonders if this is what it feels like.

It feels like he’s carrying the weight of the world for the both of you and he’s trapped in a worrying spin. And he is so fucking sad for you. It’s not pity, but just sadness. It’s wanting the best for you and you to have everything good in this world because you deserve it. And wanting to witness it because he loves you. It’s just wanting to see you smile and happy, making some stupid joke and telling him to fuck off. It’s just wanting you to not be in pain anymore. He wonders if this is how it felt being you and if so, he wants to know so badly how the fuck you dealt with it because he feels like he’s suffocating while he grabs you clothes.

Jason walks back over to you, handing you a pair of sweatpants and a red hoodie. “I got first aid shit in the bathroom so change and I’ll be back.” Jason nods his head at you.

“Okay.” You answer weakly and Jason hesitates for a few seconds before he practically runs off to the bathroom.

You're weak and unsteady as you change into the sweats. You're realizing you haven’t eaten in a while and you haven’t had much to drink either. That’s definitely not helping your mental state and you know it. But, if you were being really honest, none of those activities sound like things you're currently capable of doing. Changing is even almost too much effort at this point. And it fucking hurts as you try to take your shirt off to swap it for the hoodie.

“Need help?” Jason appears right back not two minutes later.

You always hated feeling helpless but not around him. “Yeah, it hurts.” You sniffle softly, sitting pitifully on the bed.

Jason walks over, resting the kit beside you before he lightly grabs the hem of your hoodie. Jason helps you tug it off of your bad shoulder and then over your head, you groaning the entire time. With the hoodie off, you're left in a blue t-shirt and Jason sees where the bullet hole is, covered in red and brown. With the chaos of last night, he didn’t check and wasn’t able to check if the wound was a through and through. Jason's stomach twists at the thought that it's not. But, he hides his worry, looking back to you with a soft sigh.

“How did you wanna do this?” Jason asks bluntly.

Your brows furrow in confusion. “I-I don’t know?” You shake your head.

“I can’t clean it with your shirt on.” Jason sucks in a breath and normally he’d have some comment about seeing you half naked again but he can’t quite muster it this time.

“Oh…” You whisper and you swear it’s fine. It’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked before and it’s not like you didn’t see Jason fully exposed just the other night. There is something that just feels…new and vulnerable again. “That’s fine.” You nod and Jason leans forward again, tugging the hem of your shirt up and over your head, freeing your arm. You grab Jason's hoodie with your good arm and Jason helps tug it onto your good arm, you thankful it's a zip-up and not a pullover. “Guess that’ll do.” You suck in a breath and you're kind of tired of feeling like this. “I expect you to actually help and not just stare at my tits the whole time.”

Jason manages a cheeky smirk. “You know I’m ass guy anyway.” Jason glances down and then back to you.

“Shithead.” You mutter and Jason’s head swims. It’s been so long since you've called him that and it almost feels nostalgic.

“Babe.” Jason quips back.

Jason takes out his phone, examining the gunshot now that there isn’t anything in the way. There’s still blood everywhere and he can’t even tell if it’s because you did such a shit job at cleaning it or if the wound is actually that bad. Something in his stomach twists and turns into a gnawing pain at the thought this is worse than he originally thought. But, he keeps a straight face, not to let his worry cross even a single line of his face. When he worries, you worry.

Jason grabs a wet rag from the bowl he brought in with him, gently cleaning around the area to try to get a better look. You let out a shaking breath, the water cool against your skin.

“Sorry, no hot water.” Jason barely glances to you as he scrubs some of the dry blood away.

“Should probably fix that.”

“Pilot lights are expensive.”

“I have Bruce’s credit card.” You mutter quietly, earning a look from Jason.

He stops, looking up at you fully. “You would.”

“Eat the rich.” You shrug. “Or take their money when it’s offered to you and he didn’t ask for it back.” Jason lets out a snicker before he goes back to cleaning. “You should use yours. It might send up a red flag for Bruce and maybe he’ll call someone back or come back.”

You hate the words as they leave your lips because wanting Bruce back means admitting defeat. But, Gotham has gone to absolute shit since Bruce decided to fuck off somewhere. At least Gotham had some degree of fear and respect for the Bat. They don't seem to like the Titans very much. And Jason's been off his rocker and you've been stuck trying to help him. Gotham does need someone they respect. Bruce should definitely come back. And if for no other reason, to see his son is alive again.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, fucking right.” He shakes his head in annoyance. “Fuck Bruce. I don’t need him.”

Before he died, he was getting better about talking about his problems and the things that kept him up at night. He was doing better with it but then he comes back and the very idea of talking about it makes him want to crash through a window headfirst onto solid pavement. In all fairness, he already hated talking about Bruce. It was one thing to complain about him but it was an entirely other thing to unravel and dig into actually talking about him. Now, though, it’s worse because every time Jason thinks about Bruce, it’s as if his heart starts to break all over again.

Maybe him getting bludgeoned death was his fault. He knew better. But, where was Bruce? Bruce gave up on him. And then…was going to let the Joker just…live. Jason was supposed to be Bruce’s son and he couldn’t even kill the Joker for him or do anything about him. And maybe, just maybe, Jason could get over that eventually but Jason’s alive again and Bruce is nowhere to be found. With everything going on in Gotham, Jason is certain Dick would have called Bruce and let him know. If for no other reason than to rat Jason out to “dad”. So, maybe Jason feels like he was always a little expendable to Bruce, not just Crane or the Titans. And that part hurts the most.

“Didn’t say you did?” You let out a breath. “Just saying is all.” You pull in a deep breath. “Fuck Bruce, yeah. Just saying.” You, for one, still hate Bruce but Jason hating Bruce seems weird. You chalked it up to the drug at first and Crane but…Jason’s clean. It’s weird, even for Jason. “What’s your sudden issue with Bruce anyway?”

“You got a problem with me having a problem with Bruce all of a sudden?” Jason spits back and he shouldn’t, given your current state but his heartache over being abandoned by him is fresh.

“Oh, no. I am actually fine with that cause fuck Bruce but it’s weird. After all of that shit, you come back and suddenly don’t like him. That’s weird, Jay. Even for you.”

“Never fucking mattered to him. I was always just the replacement for Dick anyway. Doesn’t fucking matter.” Jason dips the rag into the water, rinsing some of the blood off before going back to the wound.

You furrow your brows, trying to figure out where that’s even coming from. “Uh…not true? Bruce is a fucking weirdo and shit but I actually think he gives a shit about you, Jay. Outside of Robin and Dick. You always said that, too. Like deep down you knew that, so what is it now?”

Jason grows more and more angered but he knows you aren’t going to drop it. “You were fucking right, alright?” Jason snaps back. “Should have killed the fucking Joker because he killed me. So fuck him.” Jason keeps his explanation short.

“Right yeah, had he just killed him, you wouldn’t have died and it doesn’t make up for it because too little, too late shit, but like…he did—“

“Can you fucking drop it, please?” Jason’s words come out more as a demand rather than a request. “I’m done fucking talking about it.” Jason looks at your shoulder from your back, seeing there’s no hole in the fabric.

“Sorry.” You say softly. It just doesn’t sit right with you. You’d still be pissed at Bruce, too because had he killed the Joker in the first place that wouldn’t have happened but that’s…not really Jason. He doesn’t hold many grudges and Bruce did kill the Joker. It was a little late for that but he did, to avenge Jason. Bruce didn’t throw his morals away for Dick, he threw them away for Jason and that would normally mean something to him. It’s weird but you know when to push and when not to. You're not in the mood to fight it anyway. “Just thought it was weird, is all.”

“It’s fine. Sorry.” Jason squints at the wound, seeing something shine back at him and his heart plummets. He grabs his phone, shining a light into the wound again. “The bullet is still inside.”

“Figured.” You let out a breath.

“I have to take it out.”

Your eyes land on his and you know this is about to suck. “Okay.” You nod your head.

“Lay back and hold the phone so I can see.” Jason hands you his phone as you do as told.

Jason grabs a pair of tweezers from the kit and he looks at the wound, grabbing your wrist to make sure the light is in the right position. Jason’s stomach twists into a hard knot, knowing how bad this is going to hurt. His leg starts to throb with the very thought of putting you through it. But, it has to be done. You're not going to go to an actual doctor for help and if he leaves the bullet in, it can lead to infection. So, Jason sucks in a deep breath and bends down hovering over the wound, careful not to block the light.

“It’s gonna hurt.” Jason glances up at you.

“Just do it.” You sigh, looking to the ceiling as your grip on his phone tightens.

Jason nods his head before gently sticking the tweezers into the wound. You slam your eyes shut as your jaw clenches. Your right hand grips onto the blanket beneath you as Jason moves the tweezers around. It’s burning and stinging like getting stung by a thousand hornets at once. It’s as if you're being shot in the spot over and over again as tears well behind your eyes. Jason is trying to be careful and quick, but the bullet is slippery thanks to the blood.

Your hand starts to shake as your breath grows rapid and uneven. You try your best to concentrate on anything besides the pain but that’s becoming increasingly more difficult. It was different when you were in the fight for your life. It was do or die and people can do absolutely insane things they should not have been able to accomplish in life or death situations. Your life isn’t in danger right now and even when you try to focus on something else, the tweezers move just enough and you're brought back to agonizing pain.

Given the events that happened, it’s hard for you to focus on anything other than the pain you're been in. You try to think of the good times but then those are tarnished like rusted silverware. Those good memories now come with pain, too. You try to focus on what you’re going to do about Crane because maybe that would kick in your fighting instincts but you're the one lying in a bed right now after being shot by him. Everything around you feels like it’s rusting and chipping away into a toxic pile of reds and browns. Tainted, tarnished, and broken.

Jason glances up to you and he can see the agony written in every wrinkle and pinch of your skin. And he can’t see with the phone basically vibrating in your hand. All he can even feel is anger and not at you. It’s entirely on him and Crane because at the end of the day, it’s his fault and Crane’s how you ended up here. You never should have been shot. You were only there to look out for him. You and Tim were collateral damage. So many people around Jason end up just being collateral damage. And they don’t deserve it. But, at the end of the day, he isn’t the one that pulled the trigger at you and all he wants to do is go right after Crane. Make him feel the same pain he’s put you through. And then worse.

“Y/n.” Jason says, sternly. “You have to stop moving. I can’t see.”

You swallow thickly, trying to stabilize your hand. “Sorry.” You manage to mutter through your gritted teeth.

Jason goes back to the wound but the second he sticks the tweezers into the flesh, you wince and flinch as hard you try to stay still. Jason is no stranger to this and he knows it is agonizing to pick something out of an open wound. Nerves and flesh are exposed that should not be. It’s horrendous and seconds feel like hours. And it’s triggering phantom pain in his leg as his heart feels like it’s being suffocated with barbed wire. He knows it’s bad when you're the one who can’t sit still.

Jason pulls back, putting the tweezers back in the kit before he cups your cheeks. He bends down so his face is just an inch from yours and you open your eyes slowly, your jaw still clenched and tears threatening to finally fall.

“You gotta stay still or I’m never gonna be able to get it out.” Jason’s voice is stern.

“It fucking hurts.” Your voice cracks weakly as you sniffle.

“You were almost beaten to death. This isn’t gonna fucking kill you. You’ll be fine.” Jason nods his head once at you before he presses his forehead to yours for just a second.

You nod weakly at him. “Yeah…”

“Just…stay still and I’ll be quick, alright?” Jason asks, seeing the doubt across your face. “I got you.” Jason offers a weak smile.

“Okay.” You nod your head in agreement.

Jason nods once more before he goes back to your wound. He focuses on the bullet while the tweezers hover above you and you can’t help but notice the lack of shaking in his hands. Come to think of it, you aren’t sure the last time you saw his hand so steady. Jason has always been so steady around you. An unmovable force.

Jason looks back to you, raising his brows as if silently asking if you if you're ready and all you do is nod quickly before looking back to the ceiling. Your grip tightens on the phone while you lock in place with all of your might just to try to stay steady.

The tweezers stick back into the bloody wound, carefully and steadily as they go right to the bullet. Jason keeps his eyes laser-focused on just getting the bullet out and you grit your teeth together as tears come to your eyes. But, you suck in a deep breath as you feel the metal scraping around the wound, clinging onto every part your self-control in order to stay steady. That’s when Jason finally is able to grab the bullet, pulling it out in a steady motion, careful not to drop it.

Jason holds the bullet with the tweezers as a triumphant grin comes to his lips. You peek your eyes open at him, the whites turning a bright shade of pale pink.

“Told you I got you.” Jason shrugs casually but the grin quirks into a cheeky smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah thanks.” You roll your eyes as you sniffle.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, that shit was just, uh painful. I really don’t recommend getting shot.” You lay the phone down beside you before rubbing your right eye.

“Yeah, don’t plan on it.” Jason quips back. “Probably stop hurting soon without the bullet.”

“Be nice.” You let out a sigh. “And Dick really just went to bed like this. What a fucking psycho.”

"Yeah, but you went MIA." Jason narrows his eyes at you because maybe he is a little mad at you for it. They were all worried. He was worried. "You bitch about him but--"

“If you fucking say it, Jason Todd, I’ll kill you again.” You deadpan. “You two are the ones that are oddly similar, okay?”

Jason lets out a scoff. “Bullshit. I’m nothing like him.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, you are. You’re different but you’re similar. You just don’t wanna see it. What? You never looked up to him before all of this shit?” You ask.

Jason sits back on his heels, dropping the bullet in the first aid kit with the tweezers to toss and clean later. “What’s to look up to?” Jason scoffs. “Being a fucking kiss ass and a goody two-shoes.”

“Because he was the first Robin.” You state casually. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, about you replacing him and shit whatever. But, didn’t you ever look up to him for even a little bit?”

Jason hangs his head and while he’s always felt less than and a bit like a failure when it came to filling his shoes, he definitely did look up to him. Dick created something so special and surreal when it came to Robin. He wasn’t Batman, he was just a kid in a suit helping Batman and that was cool. Then Bruce had all of these stories about Dick and it always made Jason want to be like him because Dick was good. That’s how Bruce always talked anyway. Jason doesn’t know that Bruce always talked about Jason in the same way when he wasn’t around. And Dick doesn’t know how Bruce would talk about him to everyone else. But Jason heard the stories and how great Dick was. He never wanted to be exactly like him but he definitely wanted to be somewhat like him. Dick’s parents were killed and he got to be Robin. By all that Jason heard, it seemed he made it out of it okay. He had Robin and he got to carry that with him. He got to have a career in helping people (kind of). Jason did want to be like him but the way he sees it, there’s a reason people say not to meet your heroes.

“Still mad about the Joker shit but…uh,” You sniffle again. “Don’t know, be a lie if I said I didn’t look up to him…and you.”

“Me?”

“I always liked your Robin.” You say quietly. “You were different. Felt like we needed your version. But I told you that.”

“Surprised you still think it.”

“I think we need someone like Red Hood.” You state, catching Jason entirely off guard.

“What? Another fucking murderer?” Jason scoffs, looking to the window above the bed before he looks back to you.

He feels so ashamed of it all at times, like right now. It's because you're the one lying here after being shot by someone Jason thought he could trust. He knows deep down, crime in Gotham needs a change. The Bat doesn't fix everything, clearly. There needs to be someone out there that is willing to do more but Jason isn't sure that's him. He already burned his bridges. He doused them in gasoline and lit a match with a smile. He feels like he's on the wrong side and there's nothing he can do to rebuild that bridge to be on the right side anymore. If there's even a right side.

“No. Someone who’s willing to do the heavy and bad shit in order to prevent worse shit from happening. Like I said, I’m not just killing people for you, it’s for all of us and everyone that will come after us. I think we need people like that and people are afraid of you and rightfully so. I dunno. Just my take, I guess.”

“Been thinking about the people I killed.” Jason lets out a breath. “Heavy shit.”

“Yeah, but a lot of that is greater good shit and the other stuff is Crane’s manipulation so you shouldn’t feel too guilty for those.” You shrug your good shoulder.

Jason shakes his head and he doesn't how you deal with any of it. You don't normally deal with much, if Jason is being honest. But, you seem to be dealing with this pretty okay. Somewhere in him, he always felt like if someone were going to go on a killing spree, you would probably be that person. Your morals have never aligned with Dick's or Bruce's. You've always felt like more could be done, permanently. But, Jason's surprised you seem so okay with it and with him killing people.

“How the fuck are you dealing with it?”

You let out a broken laugh. “I’m not.” You answer honestly. “So much shit is happening that I just…can’t.” You shake your head. “Can’t think about it.”

Jaso nods with understanding. “Yeah.” Jason sucks in a breath, deciding to drop the conversation. It feels too much again. Too loud. Too heavy. “Stay still.” Jason leans forward, grabbing the rag before he starts cleaning her wound again.

You watch him carefully. He’s not handling anything well which you can’t say you really blame him for. You wonder what you would be doing if you were in his position. How would you ever forgive yourself for not only everything that’s happened but also being manipulated? Being manipulated isn’t Jason’s fault but you know he’s probably blaming himself for it because you would be blaming yourself for it if it were you. You wonder how he feels about coming back. You haven’t really talked about it and part of that is you're just afraid to ask because talking about him dying nearly sends you into a spiraling panic attack. But, you wonder how he’s dealing with that and if he’s happy he’s back.

Jason’s hands are steady as he grabs the gauze, his brows pinched together with concentration as he goes back to the wound and you find yourself wondering if you were meant to be anyway. Everything seemed so much easier in San Francisco. You weren’t together then and it was all just fun and games. Sure, you both were kidnapped and that was bad. But, that was one thing. Meanwhile, being together in Gotham has been a shitshow since the start almost. Maybe it’s just the butterfly effect but you wonder if it was just you both trying to find solace in each other or if it was as real as it’s always felt. Maybe you were just feeding off of each other’s own self-destruction and avoidance. Maybe being together helped the other one crumble.

Your eyes scan over his face and you realize, you don’t remember the last time you saw his face bruised. But, while you were together, he was always littered in them and almost always had one somewhere on his face like a Jackson Pollock. That solidifies the thought of you. Maybe you weren’t meant to be after all. Maybe you were actually bad for each other. Maybe you being together really was just you both self-destructing, knowing damn well one of you would die and it would destroy you. Maybe being together was always a way to hurt yourselves in the worst way.

And that hurts worse than the gunshot.

You've always been so sure about him. Even when you weren't sure, a part of you was. It was always supposed to be him. Him and you. But, you were shot and you're thinking a lot about how people's lives might be better if you weren't in them anymore. You're thinking about how things might be better for Jason if you weren't together. You skew your own reality, convincing yourself you got together in order to hurt yourselves. That's all it could possibly be. You ignore every thought about you confessing how loving him is the easiest thing you'd ever done. You push every thought of every soft moment you have ever had into the darkest part of your mind where they can be tainted and painted over. You push away everything Jason has ever told you and goes against everything Jason has ever believed about himself and what he deserves. It all feels like lies to yourself. It was just self-destruction because that has to be it, right?

You go back and forth with yourself. One part of you thinking this must be fact and the other part of you thinking it's just because it's a bad day. Everything feels worse on bad days and it is so easy to push everything good into a dark corner and paint right over it as if it were something different entirely. And today is a bad day. So, a part of you screams and begs for you to just ask Jason because Jason wouldn't lie. If it was all just self-destruction, Jason would tell you. He wouldn't lie about it.

“Do you think we were just a consequence of our own self-destruction?” You ask quietly, moving your eyes to the ceiling. "Or...was it like....real?"

Jason hears the question and pauses. He almost questions if he heard you correctly but he glances back to you and you're avoiding his stare which means he definitely did. His heart sinks and he thinks he forgot how to breathe for a second. Do you actually think that? Jason isn’t sure what would hurt more at this point. You thinking that’s all you were to him or that being all you were to you.

“What?” Jason asks, more for clarity.

“I mean like…exactly, uh, what I said. Do, uh, d-do you think we were just a consequence of our own self-destruction?” You chew the inside of your cheek and you regret asking. “Or…was it all real?”

The question hangs in the air like the blade of a guillotine, just waiting for one of you to pull the rope and end it all. The air starts to feel stale and cold and heavy as Jason doesn’t move, processing the question.

He’s not entirely sure where that question is even coming from. This whole time, you've wanted nothing more than him and you've said that. You have told him that he is all you have ever wanted. Why would you just be a consequence? Was he just a consequence?

Jason sits all the way up, coming into view. “Do you think that?” Jason asks bluntly as his breath hangs in the stagnant air. It’s as if he is clawing at the last remaining parts of his voice to remain steady and not shatter and break.

You look back to him, following the hollowed lines of worry of his face. You aren’t sure he’s breathing and you regret asking the question. You don’t even know why you asked in the first place. It’s not like you actually want to know because sometimes not knowing is just better, less painful. And the look on his face isn’t making you feel any better because he looks torn between devasted and angry.

“I asked you first.” You say quietly.

“No.” Jason states bluntly, almost harshly.

Being with you was never him self-destructing. In Jason’s eyes, as much as it all got fucked up in the end, being with you healed more parts of him than he ever thought possible. Being with you actually healed parts of him he swore would never be put together no matter how hard he tried. You made him better. He got to be who he wanted to be with you and shamelessly, you fully accepted him. And he really thought, he could be that version of himself forever because you always convinced him he could. You made him want to put in a hard effort into coming home and thinking twice before doing something a little too reckless, outside of the whole Crane and Joker thing. You showed him what it was like to be loved without conditions. And Jason loves you still. No conditions. No consequence. No self-destruction. He loves you yesterday, today, and he is positive he’ll love you tomorrow and every day after that because he wants to.

“Do you?” Jason asks, choosing not to elaborate.

You swallow a lump in your throat. Despite your own negative thoughts, you know you don't. Not really. Maybe you thinking it is a self-destruction thing, maybe it's your way of trying in order to punish yourself for Tim and everything else. But, no. Of course, not.

“No.” Your voice is quiet and fragile, making Jason’s heart sink because he knows there’s a but coming. “But, uh..we just…we ended up here.” You let out a scoff. “And, uh, I don’t know.” You shake your head. “We said some pretty fucked up shit to each other and I know…uh, I know you were high but, uh…yeah.”

Devasted. That’s all Jason can feel because he’s one of the reasons you even asked. He knows he said some horrible shit to you and he can’t take any of it back. Words are long-lasting. They enter the air and stick to it, absorbing itself into your lungs as you pull in a breath and let it fester there. That’s where the words start and travel to your brain where they store away, pecking at you just at the right moments. No one can take words back and Jason knows that. But, he has to try anyway even if he doesn't think it’ll salvage you. You have to know you meant and mean the entire world to him still.

“I didn’t mean any of that shit, okay? I swear, I didn’t fucking mean it.” Jason states quickly. “I was fucking high and I just wanted to fucking hurt you which is fucked up and I’m fucking sorry.” Jason spits out quickly but with a fire. There is no relief coming to your face and even if you are nothing to each other after this is over, he needs you to believe him. Jason cups your face. “I fucking swear. We weren’t a fucking mistake and you were the best thing that happened to me and I fucked that up. That’s on me. You made me better. I’m fucking so sorry, alright?”

You nod against his hand. And you know. You were also high and none of the shit you said is true. You didn't mean any of it. You didn't even mean the shit you said while you were sober. Maybe it's just a part of you that needs it to be verified today.

“I know and I’m sorry, too. I don’t know. I just get thinking about it, I guess. We both ended up here and it’s just…” You suck in a breath. “I know.” You place your hands over his. “Because I said some horrible shit, too, and then I hit you. And uh…I know. It’s just…that on top of everything else that happened. Like…” You shrug softly. “You died, Jason.”

Jason drops his hands, shaking his head, putting the pieces together. There is no way in hell you really think him going off on his own is your fault. Every piece of that shit plan, was on Jason. It was on him to just wait and get help. It was on him to reach out and get help. It was on him not to trust Crane. Everything was on him. That's not for you to carry.

“You don’t really think that shit is on you, right?”

“I should have seen it.” You sputter. “I should have fucking known, Jay. And the more I think about it, the more I think maybe I did know and maybe I just…let it happen to teach you a lesson about being dumb out there and—“

“Stop.” Jason cuts you off sharply. “You would never let me go after the fucking Joker by myself. You never would have even if you wanted to teach me some lesson. And I don’t think that’s it either. You do the same shit I do.” Jason scoffs. “I went after him. By myself. I do what I always did. I went after him. Alone, And I died alone. Because I never fucking ask for help. That’s not on you. And it’s got nothing to fucking do with us.”

“Yeah, but if you were me?” You question. “You’d be thinking the same thing. There were so many signs and I just…somehow missed every single one of them. I have to think I ignored them and maybe not to teach you a lesson but because I was scared.”

Jason sucks in a breath and he knows you're right because if it were him, he’d never forgive himself. If the roles were reversed, he’d also be questioning how he missed it and maybe he let you do it. Maybe he ignored the signs on purpose. Jason, being on the side he is, knows for a fact you didn’t willfully ignore any sign. You have shown him time and time again that if you have any say in it, you’d never let something happen to him. But, Jason understands why you think that so he sucks in a breath and decides to take some of that Gar advice for once.

“I remember what I was thinking about while the Joker was playing whack-a-mole with my head.” Jason mutters, earning him a grimace and a glare from you.

“Really?” You give him a displeased look.

Jason shrugs. “Well…” Jason sucks in a breath with the quick raise of his brows.

“You do though?” You ask cautiously.

Jason nods. “Yeah, I…I remember everything.” Jason swallows the growing lump in his throat. “Told you that, but…yeah.” Jason nods quickly. “Remember thinking I should have just listened to you. I should have told you because you would have talked me out of it, you would have told Bruce and Dick. I’d be pissed…but you would have helped and I wouldn’t be getting killed. So…just fucking saying,” Jason sucks in a breath and goes back to your wound. “Me dying had nothing to fucking do with you and there was nothing you could have done differently. We weren’t a consequence our own self-destruction. I’m really fucking sorry for all of the shit I’ve put you through.”

Your brows furrow and your heart starts to break again. It must be a horrible task to wake up every single day with memories, even down to final thoughts, about literally dying. You know it’s your own personal hell at this point but the idea of Jason reliving it every single day…it’s worse. And the fact he brought it up without you asking, you know.

“I forgive you, Jay.” You say quietly. “And I really, really, mean that, okay? Your, uh…your last thoughts…were regret?” You ask cautiously.

Jason shakes his head. “No.” Jason answers plainly. “Not all of them.” Jason lets out a breath. The last thing Jason wants is to talk about how the last thing he remembers is knowing he was going to die. You don't need to know that, that's for damn sure.“I-I don’t want to talk about it though. I really just needed you to know that.”

“Thank you, Jay." You watch him carefully, seeing something distant and broken cloud over his eyes. His brows pull together as if he's in pain and his hand starts to shake. You hope he'll talk about it one day. Maybe being brought back isn't all it's cracked up to be. "When you do want to talk, please talk t me.”

“I will.” Jason nods his head at you once before finishing up the wound.

“Maybe we were both just ticking time bombs to get here.” You suck in a breath. “I don’t think we were a consequence and it was real for me. I just…had to ask I guess.”

“Maybe we kept each other from getting here.” Jason nearly mutters the words under his breath before he goes back to fixing up your wound.

You let the silence fill the room as you think about it because maybe he’s right. It wasn’t until he died the two of you fell off the deep end. Sure, things weren’t great for you both mentally but maybe you together helped stabilize some part of you both. Maybe being together was the glue you both needed like a kintsugi sculpture. Putting broken pieces back together to be better than they were before. You both ended up here but maybe that’s better.

In the last two weeks, the two of you have learned more about each other and life and the consequences of everything. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be. So, you both could be better people today. Maybe you both rely too much on each other to help you mend your broken pieces but that doesn’t mean you were bad together or you were the cause of this. That doesn’t mean who you both are today is worse. Maybe who you both are today is better because it’s honest.

You both are scared but you both are honest and you aren’t letting your fears control every aspect of everything you do. You’re both standing up for yourselves in ways you didn’t think you would. Jason is figuring out his shit now and standing where he should. Where he wants. He’s standing up against people who made him feel worthless, something he otherwise never did too much. Maybe this is who you both are meant to be in the end and maybe that’s not so bad.

“Done.” Jason backs away as you look down, seeing your shoulder bandaged. “Don’t get shot again.” Jason manages the tint of a smirk.

“Gee, I wonder why I didn’t think of that.” You mock him before you sit up and slide the hoodie on entirely.

“Yeah, you really fucking should have. I mean, get it together, babe.” Jason offers a little bit of snark, the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Okay, fuck you.” You laugh softly. “Thank you.”

Jason nods his head. “Anytime.” Jason smiles softly at you.

You pull out your phone from your other hoodie and hand it to Jason. "It died and in the chaos, I dropped my charging block." You offer a guilty smile as Jason takes your phone and plugs it into his charger. “So, uh, what’re you gonna do about Crane? Like….fuck.” You roll your eyes.

“Kill him.” Jason spits.

“No.” You shake your head. “I was serious. I wanna kill him.”

“Seriously?” Jason quips.

“Yes. I’m sick of people making you think you’re some fucking monster when you’re not. And he fucking sucks anyway. He did everything to you, he almost got Dick killed, he’s gotten innocent people killed, he almost killed me, and he killed or almost killed Tim. Yeah, I’d like to kill him.” You let out a sigh. “I mean, if you really want to kill him for what he did to you, go for it just let me get a shot in. If it’s for me? Let me do it.”

“It’s kind of fucked we’re even having this conversation right now.” Jason chuckles. “Fine. But, I get a few fucking shots in. I meant what I said, no one gets to fuck with you again.”

“And I meant what I said. No one gets to fuck with you, Jason Todd.” You offer him a sweet smile, something that should feel off given you're talking about killing someone but instead, it brings Jason some sort of comfort.

A smirk grows onto his lips before it turns soft. “Can handle myself.”

“Okay, no the fuck you cannot.” You quip back as you let out a soft laugh. “Just because you can though, doesn’t mean you have to do it alone. I got you.” You smile softly at him. "You and me."

Jason remembers a night a few months ago and he was sitting in the library reading because things were just a little too heavy and loud that day. You walked in and started scrapbooking on the floor just so Jason wouldn't be alone. And he remembers thinking how peaceful it was, just the two of you. He remembers thinking he felt lucky.

In a world where he experiences so much pain and unfairness, he felt lucky in that moment and in every moment he got to spend with you. As much as he loves to beat himself up, especially these days, he'd like to think maybe he can be lucky again. Maybe he can be at peace again one day. If you keep on thinking this and keep a hold on him. If you're willing to not let him do this alone, just as you said all those months ago in San Francisco, maybe you can get back to where you were and maybe you both can be lucky and at peace. Maybe the universe will offer some sort of kindness for the suffering it's caused you both.

“What about the Titans?” Jason asks, clearing his throat and swallowing his own thoughts.

“Right, yeah, I uh, I need to talk to Dick still. I told them it was Crane last night, not sure really if they believed me or not. Hope so. I’m sure Gar did so that’s at least good.” You nod your head a few times, hating the idea of having to explain this whole thing to Dick. You're kind of tired of being the mediator.

“We could just go take out Crane ourselves.” Jason suggests casually as he gets up and walks to the other side of the room where he has a mini fridge seated against the wall.

"While that does sound like fun," You laugh softly because you wish you could actually just do that. It would probably put an end to all of this but Dick would lose his shit. “I have an idea.”

“I hate when you say that.” Jason groans as he grabs two bottles of Gatorade and a box of granola bars from the top of the fridge before he walks back over to you. Jason tosses the box and one of the Gatorades at you before he plops down and scoots himself so his back rests against the wall, his legs extending in front of him. "Assumed you haven't eaten or had anything to drink." Jason explains, cracking open his Gatorade while you do the same.

"Yeah, I haven't thank you." You give him a soft smile before you start explaining yourself, grabbing a granola bar before you start your ramble. “Taking Crane out would be a fun time and he deserves it and most of our problems would likely be solved. However, what if Dick is right? What if he does have something bigger planned that we don’t know about? And then we kill him and like…maybe he poisons everyone somehow or blows up the city? I don’t know. We kind of need to know. And knowing his whereabouts would also be kind of helpful. So, what if you just….side with him still? Be the inside guy, right? And then Dick will really believe us that it wasn’t you who shot us and you won’t have to worry about Dick trying to turn you in, I wouldn’t let him but still.”

Jason pauses, holding the open bottle of Gatorade to his mouth. He's pretty sure you're suffering blood loss because that's insane. It's about as insane as you saying he should take the drug to not go through withdrawal. You're losing your sanity. "He already poisoned the water." Jason states.

"He did what now?" You blink at him.

"Your phone died, yeah. The water is poisoned with something he did so don't drink it. GCPD put out an alert this morning." Jason explains.

"Oh, that's fun. Well, still. It's Crane. You know he has something completely insane planned. Probably." You scoot closer to Jason, sitting on your knees right beside him.

“You want me to work with fucking Crane after he just tried to kill you? That’s fucking insane. Do you know that?” Jason questions with a groan. He wants nothing to do with Crane, even if he could get information from him.

“Yes.” You nod once.

“Fuck no.” Jason shakes his head in the same casual manner before snagging a granola bar.

“Jay, look, okay he thinks he can still manipulate you so let him think that and find out what he’s up to.”

“He won’t tell me shit.” Jason shakes his head in annoyance as he unwraps the granola bar.

“Maybe he will now. If he just tried to kill me and you go back to him anyway, right? Say I turned on you or whatever. That I think it was a setup against me so you wouldn’t have to be the one to pull that trigger. If he knows you’ll turn on me, maybe he’ll finally trust you enough to tell you what’s going on. You’re a pretty good liar sometimes.” You urge him and you know this is an insane idea but it's what you have. The Titans will never figure out Crane's plan without some inside help. They need it.

“You said I was shit liar.” Jason argues, pointing the granola bar at you.

“Well, to me.” You chuckle softly. “I always know when you’re lying but I think you can lie pretty well when you actually need to. I mean, no one figured out you were Robin. And I think that was obvious. I met you and all I thought was that it made sense.”

“This is fucking stupid.” Jason nods his head casually.

“Yeah, well, this whole thing has been fucking stupid. You go back to Crane, work with him and I’ll stay with the Titans. You call the burner when you find shit out and I loop Dick in. You don’t have to physically be home to work with us. You find out, the Titans bring in Crane and shut down whatever shit he’s got going on, then we kill him and you go home.” You explain simply and Jason hates just how convincing you can be.

You make a good point. Jason knows he can lie his ass off, he just wanted to argue. He's worried though because Crane has a way of knowing Jason is lying. It's how he found out about you from the beginning of it all. Jason couldn't just lie because Crane would know. It wasn't exactly a life-or-death situation then though. Maybe Jason wasn't trying all that hard to get away with lying then anyway. Crane admitting his plan would be helpful and Crane thinking you turned on Jason would give Jason enough motive to give up on the Titans entirely. It's not a horrible plan but Jason isn't happy about it.

“Alright fucking fine but this is shit and you know that.” Jason lets out a groan.

“I know.” You smile. “But, it’ll be worth it when his prodigie betrays him in the end.” You scrunch your nose, smiling with pride and Jason can see the light come back to your eyes. He thinks you're gonna be okay.

“You know, kinda hot when you got a plan all ready to go.” Jason offers you a cheeky smirk, his eyes raking over you before coming back to your face.

“I do have my moments.” You grin wickedly at him. “Kind of hot when you actually do what I say.”

“Alright, fuck you. Don't get used to it, babe.” Jason chuckles, shaking his head as the white streak flops onto his forehead. “When we doing this?”

“You could head out now, meet up with Crane and I’ll head back to the manor.” You suggest before taking a bite of your granola bar.

“Alright, just, uh, be careful, please. Let me know if shit happens with the Titans. I don’t want them attacking you for this shit.”

“I got it. I’ve been dealing with them the whole time. Don’t worry, Jay.” You smile softly a him as Jason gets to his feet and stands in front of you.

There's something dark in his eyes this time. He's standing over you as if he doesn't really want to leave. His brows are pinching together in the way they always do when he's worried and his jaw is squaring. He's putting all of the pressure onto his good leg, something you still notice immediately. But, he stands as if he's an unmovable force anyway and the smirk drops from his face.

“I’m serious, alright? Be careful.” Jason sucks in a breath and you've never seen him this kind of protective over you before.

“I will, promise.” You offer him a soft nod before Jason reluctantly heads out.

Jason is still hesitant, keeping his stance in front of you and it feels wrong. It always feels wrong to just leave. But, it's not his place to offer something else in place of him leaving anymore. And he also knows the second he walks back to Crane, that'll probably the last time you see each other until it's resolved. You're going to have to go to the Titans and Dick will likely be watching you closely, to make sure you don't get yourself killed or flip sides again. A lot can happen in a day or a few days and you were just almost killed. It scares the ever-living shit out of him, the very thought of losing you the way you lost him. He hates that he's leaving again. It's what he has to do and he knows that but knowing what he has to do to end this, doesn't make the decision any easier.

Jason leans down, placing his hand on your cheek before he rests his forehead against yours. Your eyes fall closed, a soft and subtle smile coming to your lips.

"Don't do anything fucking stupid and for once, listen to Dick and Gar, alright?" Jason asks, pulling just enough to see your face.

Your brows pull together. "You want me to listen to Dick?"

Jason is still mad at him and maybe Dick wants him dead still. That's always a possibility but something Jason knows, now that he's thinking with a clear head is that Dick does try to protect the Titans. They're his family and he's the leader. And Gar is one of your best friends. The two of them won't let anything happen to you if they can stop it. He knows you taking off had nothing to do with Gar and after last night, Jason thinks Gar would try to actually stop you if it happens again.

Jason's jaw squares, reluctant to say it again. "I'm serious. You got fucking shot." Jason quips.

"Okay." You agree softly, knowing if Jason is asking you to listen to anyone, you should probably take the advice. It always means Jason is very worried and serious. Two things that are a bit unsettling. "I will, promise." You smile softly before pressing your forehead to his for a second. "Now, go, okay? I'll be fine."

Jason nods his head, pulling away and dropping his hand. "I'll call when I find something out." Jason offers one last nod before he turns and darts out of the room.

Jason heads out to an old mechanic shop to meet up with Crane and for the life of him, he has no idea why he's even agreed to this. The only thing he wants to do right about now is kill Crane. He wants to fight him and shoot him and cause him horrendous pain for what he's put you through. He could have killed you and Jason swore no one would ever get away with it. But, now he has to walk in here and pretend he's not pissed about it. He's a good liar, but he doesn't know if he'll actually be able to withhold his blooming hatred.

When Jason meets with Crane, Crane seems to be acting perfectly normal, seemingly believing Jason will always be on his side no matter what. It's something Jason finds to be interesting because he already knew Crane was arrogant. But, he didn't think he was arrogant enough to think Jason would just be perfectly fine with him after being drugged, tricked, lied to, and used. He just shot Tim, possibly ruining his chances of actually going home. He could have killed you. Jason already threatened Crane but Crane seems perfectly fine with everything and Jason's wondering if that's because he agreed to meet.

"You could have fucking killed her." Jason starts with gritted teeth as they walk into the car garage.

"Yeah...sorry about that." Crane says casually. "She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes, there are necessary casualties."

Crane is confident in his ability to manipulate Jason. Crane didn't have a single thing on the kid and Jason still spilled everything about Batman and the Titans. It was easy. It might become more difficult right now, but Crane is confident they'll overcome the current hurdle. After all, for the time being, Crane does still need Jason for his own disposal.

Jason wants to explode right here and take Crane out with him. A necessary causality? That's how you and Tim are being referred to? There is no such thing as a necessary causality when it comes to innocent people. Innocent people don't have to die. They don't have to be hurt. It was a choice Crane made in order to get you out of the way. To show Jason Crane is the one still running the show. And Jason has to stand here and pretend like this is all fine and lie. He's ready for this whole thing to be done and over with.

"You were right anyway." Jason sucks up his pride and do as you tell him. For that alone, Jason should get to kill him after this. "She was going to turn me in. It was all a setup, that's why she was even there."

Crane seems to perk up with Jason's words and he's hoping Crane believes him. "I did tell you she couldn't be trusted. That must be so hard to handle right now. But, see, now you know who has your back." Crane offers an eery smile. "Do I need to finish the job now?" Crane asks bluntly and he is definitely asking to gauge Jason's reaction. He doesn't miss the way Jason's hands turn into fists at his sides with his knuckles turning white.

"No." Jason states. "I'll do it." He states simply, releasing his hands.

"Good. Then you'll have nothing to worry about." Crane pats Jason's shoulder and Jason is ready to change the subject. He hopes that'll be enough bait for now.

"What the fuck is this?" Jason asks, switching the conversation as he looks around.

"This is where the victors go to rest their weary heads." Crane says.

"We didn't win." Jason argues. "They were gonna take me back but you fucked it all up." Sure, Crane did manage to poison the water but from where Jason is standing, it doesn't seem like too many people have been affected and with the alert going out, less people will likely drink the water. They didn't win anything.

"So you had a moment." Crane states simply, completely unbothered. "I've had plenty of them myself. Let bygones by bygones. I forgive you." Crane says before he pulls the cover off a yellow sports car. He lets out a sigh, as if to be pleased by the vehicle. "Sprezzatara."

Jason just rolls his eyes before he leans against the car, resting his back against the A frame. He's annoyed and he wants to get out of here. The hell if Crane forgiving him for? As far as Jason is concerned, he thinks getting him drugged was payback enough for him dealing the drug out behind his back. And Crane seems to be growing a little annoyed with him, too as he lets out a sigh before closing the garage door using the button hanging from a cable.

"Show some respect." Crane says sternly. "Sit." Crane depends, lightly gesturing towards a chair in front of a desk with a computer.

Jason does as told, sitting down and slouching in his seat.

"You know who Edward Bernays is?" Crane asks.

"The sauce guy?" Jason questions.

"Eggs and bacon." Crane says, taking a seat beside Jason. "Classic American breakfast. Do you know why?"

"What's this have to do with--"

"Pork farmers paid Edward Bernays to make it so. See, but Edward Bernays, he had this...this uncle, right? Dear old Uncle Sigmund. As in Sigmund Freud. See, and Freud taught Edward Bernays how the human mind worked. And Edward, he worked the human mind. He didn't sell the proletariat bacon. He sold them the idea that a hearty breakfast was what every doctor thought was best for them. After that, the bacon, it sold itself. Edward Bernays understood that an idea is the most powerful weapon we have." Crane explains before he swivels in his chair to face the computer, Jason eying him carefully and he's getting a really bad feeling about all of this. "It's not the product, it's how you sell it." Crane says as he brings up footage of Nightwing fighting some bad guys and Crane is in some type of editing software. "And Gotham is in need of a new product. We now interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you a message for the good people of Gotham.

Jason leans forward as the video starts to play, Crane already having sent it out as alert to every person in Gotham City.

Oh no.

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