Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“He's turned off his suit tracker, again.”

Jason snorts, crossing his arms and leaning far back in his booth. “I do that every other week.”

Tim frowns, pouring a bucket load of syrup on his pancakes. They're in a diner just outside of Gotham. It's 3am, they are the only current customers, and Jason’s wired over his fifth cup of coffee. As is Tim. “He only answers my texts when it has to do with school.”

That was a little more concerning. Dick is an avid texter, will send Jason silly videos and memes every hour it sometimes feels like. If Tim can only get him to respond when he needs homework help then something might actually be amiss. Still- “It's a brooding phase.”

Tim looks unamused, shoving a fork full of pancakes into his mouth. “Are we supposed to pretend that you aren't also worried right now?”

Yes, that's exactly what they should be doing. “Dick’s a big boy, he can handle himself.” Jason says, mentally working out how he could triangulate where he currently is based on where his tracker turned off and where it was previously. “Maybe he just needs some time. He got pretty heated in that argument with Dad.”

It feels weird, calling Bruce Dad. His hatred has settled somewhat over the years, but it's mostly his therapist urging him to reconnect that's making him give the man a chance again. Once she had realized that Jason wanted to salvage his family instead of estrange himself, his therapist put her backbone into it and has been cleaning up Jason’s life one expensive therapy session at a time. There's still a long way to go, but he's made up with Tim after everything that happened, and they along with Dick act like family once more, if not a little dysfunctional. Damian was another story, but Damian is also currently hanging out with some monks learning that peace is indeed an option, so that's a problem for another day.

“It's more than that.” Tim protests, draining his fifth or sixth coffee as well. Jason makes a note to put some sleeping powder in one of his next ones. The skin below his eyes are dark and baggy. “Jason, come on, we both know that you were going to check in sooner or later. I have finals for the next month, so I can't do it.”

Well, he shouldn't have started college classes while still in high school. That's his fault. Still- “Yeah yeah I know. You know where he is now?”

Tim’s eyes narrow. “What part of he turned off his suit tracker do you not understand?”

Jason stares at him. Tim stares back.

Tim sighs. “Yeah, I know where he is. You paying for this or me?”

He snorts. “Bruce is.” Which means Tim is, since Tim’s money comes straight from their father. Jason’s is a little less legal.

His younger brother rolls his eyes, placing a few twenties on the table before ordering an ice cream sundae. The young waitress, who had been subtly flirting with Jason this entire time, takes their order with a sultry smile. “It'll be out in a minute, dear.”

Tim watches her go. Jason does not. “He's going to be upset.” He says. “You know how he gets when he's all broody.”

“Or-” Tim says, “He gotten himself into something and he doesn't want to drag the rest of us into it.”

Jason pauses. He curses.

Because that's exactly the kind of thing Dick would do.

He calls Tim the next day, at 4am this time. He answers on the third ring. “Mwhat?”

“We were both right.” Jason says, sends Tim an article he's been rereading for the past half hour. “Something is wrong, and he is brooding.”

It's quiet as Tim scans the article. “Shit. In the Robin costume?! Unfair.”

Shit indeed. Jason stares at the passage detailing the near mutilation of a group of criminals, all of which say they were attacked by a masked vigilante. He doesn't watch the video. “When'd he start stabbin’ people?”

“Go figure it out.” Tim mumbles. “He doesn't tell us shit nowadays.”

Jason hangs up, packs a bag. Dick has been slowly separating from them for a while now. Jason didn't mention it before since it was more leaving the city than it was leaving them. He still made time to hang out with Tim, to visit Jason even when he didn't want him to. It was only after his heated argument with Bruce that he started going almost fully non-contact.

(Mostly. This is still Dick Grayson they're talking about. Jason called him two days ago and they talked for a near hour about random bullshit, because Jason rarely ever calls and that means something. It was a checkup call, because he was worried, but Dick was acting fine, normal, so he thought it was nothing. He forgets his brother can act.)

This wasn't good. Bruce would be no help (like normal), Tim has finals and Damian is halfway across the world. That leads wrangling the eldest brother to him, and that is not Jason’s forte. He's fine at it when Dick is acting normal, is more likely to make things worse when Dick decides to act like he truly is Bruce Wayne’s son and the brooding is genetic. Still, Tim asked for his help and Jason is actually kinda getting a little worried now.

He scowls at his packed bag, throws a few more things inside before shutting it. This shouldn't take long, but he knows better - even if it only takes two days, he might go through four pairs of clothes, depending on how bloody they get.

The things he does for family.

Detroit is definitely not his favorite city, nor is it in the top three. He's been a few times, and never has he wanted to go back after he's left. It definitely does not help that newspapers slandering Robin and masked vigilantes in general are just scattered all over the place.

He parks his motorcycle near Dick’s apartment, finds that he's not there and sighs, because it would be easier to just walk to the police station then it would be to drive and find a parking spot closer by. He could use the workout - he's been slacking lately on his training. Given how his main weapons are guns, and he rarely ever climbs buildings the way Dick does, he hasn't really needed to keep up on his training.

It's a chilly night, the streets startlingly empty. Probably because everyone is afraid of getting their mouth carved in, Jesus Dick- by a vigilante. If Jason doesn't talk some sense into him, Bruce will get involved.

Neither of them want that.

He passes a shivering homeless girl on the corner and pauses. She doesn't even look at him, stuck in her own thoughts.

“Hey.” He says, the bleeding heart that he is. “Pretty sure there's a homeless shelter a few blocks north of here. Probably got free food and heated rooms.”

She takes a moment to even realize he's talking to her. It's not the best look, a grown man talking to a teenage girl, but he is only nineteen himself, and he hasn't really matured enough to not look like a senior in high school. Anyway, the girl nods but does not move, eyes distant and unfocused.

Jason sighs. He blames Dick for rubbing off on him. Children are the future and all that bullshit. The only kid Jason interacts with is Tim and four years ago he tried to brutally murder him. Granted, he was angry, Lazarus Pit levels angry, but still.

“It's dark, I understand the fear.” He has to try. “I'm walking that way too - we could walk together.”

He kind of expects it to backfire and for the girl to find him creepy and run. That, thank God, does not happen, and he finds himself escorting the girl to the homeless shelter, which is out of the way but who cares. He only knows about the place because he had a lead that went through there at one point in time, but it dried up so Jason found it safe enough. The girl thanks him for the escort and disappears inside. Jason makes a note of checking this place again when he leaves back to Gotham.

That detour means he gets to the police station nearly an hour later. The guy at the front desk is immediately hostile, probably because he looks like a delinquent, but that's neither here nor there. “What are you here for?”

“Looking for Dick Grayson.” He leans against the desk with a smile that would make even Grandma balk. “He's a detective here, right?”

The guy raises an eyebrow. “What's your relation to him?”

“He's my brother.” Jason wiggles his brow, because he knew that would surprise the guy and he finds it amusing. As thought, the guy’s eyes widen and he disappears into the back.

Dick comes out a few minutes later, looking aggravated and irritated. “What are you doing here?”

“What, can't visit my favorite brother?” He opens his arms, a gesture that means he's allowing a hug to happen. Dick doesn't hug him, which is a code fucking red in Jason’s books. Dick knows how rare these opportunities are, he wouldn't waste them for anything. Jason once had him jump from the manor roof because Jason had hinted at wanting a hug when he was younger.

Things were gravely wrong. Just what did he and Bats argue about?

“Why are you here?” Dick asks again, tone hard, and Jason starts getting angry too. “Did Bruce send you?”

Oh, he's on a first name basis now too. “Of course not.” He scoffs, crosses his arms. “I'm here because I don't appreciate you going completely off radar for no fucking reason. And you're worrying Tim!”

That got his attention. His shoulder slouch, guilt flashing in his eyes. Jason knew it would - Dick might get angry and hostile at Jason, but he's much more friendly with the two younger brothers. Probably because they don't intentionally try to make him blow a gasket (Damian unintentionally, but that's just Damian-) over stupid things that don't matter. It's a low blow, but Jason doesn't care, because he was actually worrying Tim and Jason doesn't like that either, will set him straight if need be. Someone has to.

“Tim’s seventeen, he's fine.” Dick says, as if they're regular people and Dick's just moved on to adulthood. As if they couldn't die every single time they go out on patrol. As if Jason hasn't already died to prove it. Not to mention burglary or kidnapping for ransom, since he is Bruce Wayne’s ward. Tim has plenty of reasons to worry. “Stay outta this Jason, I don't need you getting mixed up in this.”

Because Jason still low-key hates their father, and he's more likely to immediately take Dick’s side no matter what Bruce has done. Dick is still protecting him, even when he's obviously pissed.

He's about to answer when two cops walk in, the girl he had escorted earlier between them. He locks eyes with her, and both of their eyes widen at the same time.

Then she turns to look at Dick. She sucks in a sharp breath as Dick also turns to look at her, wondering what Jason was doing. “You're the boy from the circus.” She says, and Dick goes rigid right before Jason does. She tries to stop walking, pulls towards him, but the officers keep pushing her back into the bullpen.

They turn to look at each other, once she's gone. Jason frowns. “You know her?”

“No.” His brother looks troubled, running a hand over his mouth and looking down in thought. “You?”

“Took her to a homeless shelter before coming here.” He crosses his arms, sighs. “You should go figure that out.”

“Yeah.” He turns around, goes to push through to the back, following where that girl had gone. He doesn't look back.

“This conversation isn't finished!” Jason calls right before the doors close behind him, before he mutters a curse underneath his breath, kicking at the floor with his shoe. How old was that girl? 13? 14? Dick was what, 9? When his parents died. 15 years have passed since then, there's no way she should know about that, much less recognize him.

Why was she in custody in the first place?

“So, you're Grayson’s brother?” Two officers, he thinks detectives, appear from the back, sizing him up. “Not expecting to see you here. What's this, a surprise visit?”

They seem friendly enough, if not a little sleep deprived and slightly wild because of it. “Yep, thought I'd surprise him. Wanted to see how he was settling in.”

“The same way most detectives do.” The taller of the two men say. “With coffee and long nights. Grayson’s a hard worker, that's for sure.”

“Always has been.” Jason has been to a total of one charity gala ever since he came back from the dead, mostly to make sure that during Damian’s debut the kid didn't slaughter anyone. He tries to remember how to talk to regular civilians who didn't grow up on the streets, much less outside of Gotham. “He didn't have time to tell me, but when does he usually clock off work?”

“Ten every night.” The shorter one says with a laugh. “Most punctual guy here, like he's got places to be afterwards. Hey, you're Jason right? Grayson used to talk about you and your family all the time, the soppy bastard.”

The taller one sighs. “You all seem very close.” He finishes, trying to save face for his friend. “He should be out in half an hour, but it might take longer. He's interviewing someone right now.”

Huh, strange way to say interrogating a child. Jason tries to keep an innocent expression on his face. “Oh, is it that girl who came in a little while ago? I took her to a shelter earlier, what'd she do?”

“Threw concrete at a police cruiser.” The shorter man answers, uncaring for confidentiality. The taller one twitches but doesn't interrupt. “You know kids, getting in trouble for no good reason.”

As a child who grew up homeless, living on the streets and getting in trouble for both good and bad reasons, Jason tries to hide his anger. That girl didn't strike him as a troublemaker. If she threw concrete at a car, it was for a good reason. “She might have wanted the officer’s attention. She seemed scared earlier.”

The shorter one stares at him, laughs. “Just like your brother, you are. Soft spot for children definitely runs in the family.”

Even outside of Gotham, people who know the Wayne name knows Bruce adopted down on their luck children like one gives out candy on Halloween. “Lucky for us.”

The short one laughs harder. The taller one looks vaguely like he wants to apologize for this entire conversation. 

They talk for a bit longer until Jason is able to extract himself from the conversation, saying he'd like a breath of fresh air outside. He sits on a bench right outside the station, takes out his phone and opens up an app. He's very curious about that girl, given how she knew Dick, and how coincidence or not Jason just happened to run into her twice within like two hours. He had borrowed some of Bruce’s tech long ago, had Tim upgrade it whenever he felt like it was starting to become dysfunctional. While it would be better if he had on his hood, it's currently in his backpack, and changing here wouldn't be smart.

Still, it's very easy to put in some headphones and hack into the security system and cameras. Not like he was doing anything - he'll have to thank Tim for it later.

He doesn't see Dick anywhere, but it's easy finding the room they're holding the girl in. Some officer is talking to her, and she stands as the officer comes closer, grabbing her arm and taking her towards the back. They're moving her, he guesses. Homeless as she is, who knows what they'll do with her. He doubts juvie is an option, but in all honesty-

Fuck, Dick really has rubbed off on him. He came here for his brother but something is off about this girl and Jason’s kind of worried about her continual wellbeing.

Well, when in doubt, if the girl is okay with it he can break her out and find her a well off family in Metropolis to live in. That'll be better than anything she can get in Detroit.

He turns off his phone and stands, making his way towards the row of police cruisers waiting near the side of the building. He's nearing the side when the police officer and the girl walk out. She waits for the officer to open the car door, and instead gets a needle to the neck for her trouble.

Jason immediately reached for his side, brings up a gun and takes aim at the officer, only to find his hand empty because his gun is in his backpack. He curses, debates running in front of the cruiser to stop him, but the car is already driving off.

“Jay!” He turns, sees Dick standing near the entrance, eyes wide. So he had seen it too. “Rachel-”

Was that her name? Good to know. “You do it the legal way.” He says, tucks a hand into his coat collar and pulls it down. Just enough that Dick can catch a glimpse of his suit on underneath his civilian clothes, because of course he isn't going to enter Detroit without proper precautions. “I've got the other way handled.”

Then he takes off, veers into the nearest alley. He opens up his phone once more, turns on a function that causes the nearby security cameras to loop feed or go static, because he's not making the same mistake as Dick thank you very much, before digging into his backpack and pulling out two important things.

His hood, and a grappling hook.

It takes him longer than he'd like, catching up to the cruiser. He's not used to Detroit's infrastructure, it caught him up a few times. Still, he's only a few minutes behind, which will have to be good enough.

He enters from the roof. The building the car waits outside of is old and dilapidated, definitely not passing inspection. The floor creaks when he walks on it, definitely giving himself away if he does not do something about it.

It takes him much longer than he'd like, getting down two floors to where he hears someone else speaking. Stealth was very important here, which meant slow and steady won the race. Except for the fact that there was a girl, Rachel’s life was in danger here. He could hear her now. And someone else.

“With these three, the gate will be closed forever, and we will all be saved.” It was the voice of a lunatic, slightly insane yet so very serious, as if he was the only one who knew the truth. Rachel sounded close to sobbing, and while Jason would love to know more he couldn't risk an innocent civilian.

A civilian that knew Jason, but didn't know the Hood, but Dick was on his way oh wait a second-

He takes off his hood, shoves it into his backpack before fishing out one of his smaller guns and walking out into the candle-lit light of the occupied room.

It's not a good scene. Candles flicker in a circle around where Rachel is tied to a chair. There's blood dripping from somewhere, and the man standing over her as a serrated knife. “This doesn't seem quite legal.”

It's not what he wants to say nor do. He wants to put a bullet through the guy’s skull, but he's reformed now, so none of that… yet.

The guy startles as Rachel starts thrashing about, crying for help. She can't see him yet, he entered from behind her, but maybe she recognizes his voice?

“You don't understand.” The man says, taking a step back. Jason inches forward, closer to Rachel. “Letting the child live will doom us all.”

“Sure.” He says, because that sounds like logical and rational thought, not. “That's definitely her vibe, totally see it.”

The man backs up again, glancing at his gun. Jason makes sure his suit is still mostly hidden under his coat, stepping fully between Rachel and the man. “Do not fall for her innocent facade.” The man hisses. “There is evil, deep within her. She was born from it, and it will spell our doom!”

…eh, a problem for another day. Jason’s honestly dealt with worse. If it was even true.

Down below, they all hear Dick call out. “Rachel?”

And Rachel screams. “Help!”

The man takes that opportunity, the second Jason’s attention is torn away, he raises his knife to strike at Jason.

Jason takes a shot.

His gun jams.

…God fucking damnit-

Rachel screams as the guy’s already bloody knife shreds through, into his shoulder. Jason’s fast enough to fall back as the guy attacks, meaning it's only a shallow cut. What he was not prepared for, was the guy somehow continuing without even shifting his weight, thrusting the knife forward and into his side.

That one… now that one hurt.

Jason lets out a gasp of pain, one that quickly turns into a snarl. His gun comes up to slam against the side of the man’s face. He staggers back, out of reach, and Jason wants to follow. Instead he finds himself unable to move because wow that knife went deep, he's going to bleed out sooner or later, ow.

Rachel is hyperventilating, very overwhelmed, as the guy staggers away from him. When he sees that Jason isn't, or cannot get up, he backs up to the other door, closing it and barricading it with his body. Keeping Dick out, Jason would imagine. He places a hand on his wounded side, feels blood soak through his suit and coat. That'll need stitches.

Belatedly, he remembers his gun. It'll take a minute to unjam it, but that's better than nothing. Especially because Rachel is now very still and quiet, as if she passed out, which not good. She might have a medical condition, Jason should have thought about that shit-

There's banging on the door. Dick’s arrived, and if Jason could get that guy to move Dick could handle him. And yet moving is probably a death sentence right now. He has a first aid kit in his backpack, but he also has to unjam his gun and apply pressure to his wound-

He freezes as something cold brushes against his spine. The temperature in the room drops, something odd and foreboding entering the air. Rachel’s body twitches, shakes as if seizing. Black wispy smoke, almost like tendrils of darkness, start to waft off her. He notices at the same time the man does.

The man’s eyes are wide, full of fear. “No.” He whispers.

Rachel lurches forward in her seat, and something strange happens. Her body, restrained, is halted in its tracks. And yet there's a second Rachel, almost a mirage, that flies forward, runs into the man and slams him into the door. Jason stares, unable to do anymore more as the Rachel in the chair slumps, boneless. The Rachel near the door grabs the man by the throat, seems to cackle, as if pleased.

Then she turns to black smoke too, disappears, no, is absorbed by the man. He sees the man’s terrified face for a single second before he's falling to the floor, vomiting up bile and blood and something as black as tar. When it's over he claws at his throat, screams like a man who's seen the devil.

Then he collapses, like a puppet with their strings cut. 

Suddenly, it is quiet. Silent.

The door is thrown open. Dick marches through, taking stock of the scene. Jason only barely manages to tear his eyes away from the body to look at him. He takes a step towards Jason, eyes locked on his wound.

Nice to know he still cares. Maybe a near death scare will have him back to his old self.

Jason tilts his head towards Rachel, who's quietly crying. Dick grimaces, but goes to her first, getting her out of her bonds. Rachel falls into him, holding him like a lifeline. Dick seems stiff at that, like he's never comforted a child before, like Jason doesn't remember how he'd visit one of Gotham's orphanages or youth centers every week. Still, he hugs her back after a moment and Jason gives them a minute, lets them talk quietly among themselves. He can tell Dick about what Rachel did later, when he's not at risk of bleeding out.

Speaking of-

With his free hand and a painful torso twist he brings his backpack to his side, unzipping it and digging for the first aid kit. It's not a new thing, bandaging himself up, but that knife did have someone else's blood on it, which was a bit worrying. His hand is shaking, as it riffles through the lot. Bloodloss, most likely.

“Jay-” He hears, sees a hand on his before Dick crouched in front of him. He expertly picks out a blood clotter and opens it easily, quick and precise. Jason moves his bloody hand from his wound, looks up to see Rachel standing over them, eyes wide in fear.

He smiles at her, even as his face twists in pain, the blood clotter placed on his wound. “Don't worry, I've had worse.”

Rachel’s eyes are red and glassy. Tear tracks are drying down her cheeks. She looks confused. “You're also a cop?”

Jason snorts. “Never, no, that's hilarious.” He grunts as Dick packs the wound, wraps gauze around his middle to keep it in place. “I'm Dickie’s brother. Call me Jason.”

Rachel’s eyes widen. “Oh.” She says, frowns. “But you weren't at the circus.”

Just how does she know about- y'know what, she has a shadow double and was near exorcized a few minutes ago, her knowing about the circus is not so surprising. “We're adopted.”

Rachel's eyes widen again, before she flushes, as if embarrassed. Dick stands, holds out a hand. Jason takes it, tries not to wince when he's pulled to standing. “Um, should you be moving right now…?”

“Never stopped me before.” He claps Dick on the shoulder, a silent thank you, and shoves his gun back into his bag. “Now, what was that shadow thing and why did that guy think you were a gateway to our imminent destruction?”

Rachel, of course, doesn't know. He should expect that by now, most villains and heroes aren't really in it until their late teens, the Robins being obvious exceptions. Speaking of Robin, why the hell is Dick going around in the Robin suit? Nightwing is supposed to be in Bloodhaven but even so why is he making Tim and (when he gets back) Damian look like a feral Punisher? He's going through it, Jason assumes. Very much so, since Dick’s been looking at a poster for the Flying Graysons for ten minutes now and hasn't even seemed to notice that Jason’s entered the room. “Yo Wing, Rachel's getting ready - help with these stitches?”

Dick jerks, turns away from the poster and beckons him forward. Jason rolls up the bottom of his suit top and sets the rest of the kit against a table, leaning against it. Jason’s better at doing stitches, but is pretty mediocre when working on himself. He thought he'd get better over time. He didn't.

The first prick is barely noticeable over the pain from the wound. Jason had already taken some Tylenol, as if that would really do anything. Still, he stays still as Dick starts stitching it all. “What's the plan?”

He knows Dick has one, is purposefully not telling him. “I'm taking her somewhere safe.” He says. “You should go back to Gotham and rest.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Did you think that was actually going to work? That you'd tell me to go home and I would?”

“I was hoping so, yes.” Dick sighs, threads the stitch through a little harshly. “You got your own shit to deal with, Jay, I can handle it.”

“This girl can apparently destroy the world.” Jason’s voice is flat. “Which I quite like on a good day. Also my schedule is pretty free. Cleared it all out, in fact.”

Dick pauses, tilts his head up from his work to look at him. His eyes narrow. “Tim put you up to this?”

“Be happy only I'm here.” He says in response. “The moment his finals are over you're screwed.”

Dick laughs, genuine, and when he smiles it's the happiest Jason has seen him in a long while. There's something fond in his eyes. “Whatever shall I do.”

“Hope he doesn't hack your phone.” Jason says, because in his rebellious phase Tim was a menace to phones. “Deal with this before finals are over. Fucking call him so he knows you're okay.”

Dick looks away again. “You're one to lecture me on needing space. What's so bad about me just being alone for awhile?”

Because Dick is quite literally allergic to being alone, and is more likely to wilt without genuine human interaction every fucking day. The last time he left home for an extended period of time he made his own superhero group, because he can't fucking stand being alone. When that failed, he drifted for a few weeks until Jason found him and pulled him back to Gotham (once again, because Tim was worried).

That's all to say, Dick needs people around him, people he trusts and cares for. Being alone for days on end isn't relaxing to him, it's how he tortures, how he punishes himself.

He really needs to know what happened between him and B.

“Alright then.” Jason says, glaring down at him. “The moment you can tell me you want me to leave and not be lying about it, I'll leave.”

Dick finishes the stitches, stands to his full height and scowls. “I want you to leave, Jason. Go home.”

Jason smiles and twirls his motorcycle keys. “I'll drive behind you guys. Rachel obviously trusts you more for some reason, so try and get her to open up some more, yeah?”

Dick’s eye twitches. Probably because he hates the fact that Jason can read him so easily. The truth is there is rarely ever a time where Dick actually wants to send Jason away. He knows too much about Jason’s history to ever send him off when Jason is trying to be present. Deep down and very surface level Dick is a good man, even if he is acting very prissy. “Jason-”

“Save it, Wing.” Jason stops him, raises a hand. “You're obviously going through some shit, so I'm not leaving.”

Dick stares. Jason stares back.

“You didn't even take the offered hug.”

His eye twitches again. Jason knows he got him. “Fine. Tell Tim that I'm fine, noisy little-”

He grumbles to himself as he walks away, and Jason watches him go with a smile.

Angry or not, Dick can never say no to his little brothers. At least, not when it matters. He sends Tim a thumbs up, gets a perfect back, and takes the time they have left reconfiguring his gun, because man was that jam at a terrible time.

Chapter Text

They stop at some quaint little diner in nowhere Ohio, Jason and Dick squeezing onto one side of the booth even though there was barely any room. Dick wouldn’t stop glancing over at him, eyes tracing over his now hidden stab wound, as if expecting it to have reopened on the drive here.

Which didn’t happen, Jason is a responsible motorist, thank you very much.

“D’you want a hot chocolate?” Dick asks when the waitress brings over coffee, pours some into a cup in front of Dick. Jason smiles at the waitress because one of them should at least be somewhat pleasant to be around, and Rachel’s traumatized while Dick is broody so dear lord it has to be him.

“Just coffee.” Rachel says, also looking at Jason, because she had actually seen him get stab and Jason knows he isn’t acting like a normal stab victim, and it’s probably throwing her off a bit. “Black.”

Dick looks out of his depth for a moment. “They probably have marshmallows-”

“I’m not a kid.” Rachel snaps, and Jason hides his snort because at her age he definitely thought the same thing, thought that living on the streets made him mature faster. It did, but now at 19 he knows the difference.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate.” He smiles at the waitress, raises a hand and tries not to wince when it pulls on his wound. They both notice, somehow. Jason is off his game. “Whipped cream on top please.”

The waitress gives Rachel her coffee (which she almost immediately fills with sugar, after the first sip) and goes off to get Jason his hot chocolate.

Then it’s quiet, awkward, and this is not Jason’s forte, is not even adjacent to his wheelhouse, he regrets all his life choices.

“So.” Dick finally asks, after the waitress comes back with his hot chocolate. Jason takes a sip and tries to act like he didn’t just burn his tongue. “What happened, back there?”

He waits, wants to let Rachel explain before he gives an outsider’s point of view. While he doubts Rachel is purposefully hiding things, it’d be best to see if she excludes anything or seems weird with her response.

“I…” Rachel sips her coffee, doesn’t look at either of them. “I didn’t mean to do it. Didn’t mean to… kill him.”

Well, that was quiet obvious, Jason could tell that from the get go. Dick, however, presses. “What did you do?”

Jason side-eyes his brother’s tone, because not even Bruce would talk to a scared kid like this. Rachel lets out a shaky, slightly panicked breath. “I don’t know.”

Dick sighs, as if frustrated, and Jason elbows him in the side. Because, no matter how he feels now, Jason knows that when he gets his head on straight he’ll feel bad about this later, and he doesn’t want to see Dick wallow in regret. “Looked like you had made a shadow clone of yourself, or some kind of mirage. Whatever it was, it made the guy belch out his entrails.”

Rachel flinches at that description, and this time Dick glares at him. Jason shrugs, uncaring, because hopefully that’ll mean he’ll be gentler then he has been. Jason is a much better bad cop, and usually that’s the role he takes when he and Dick talk to someone. Dick trying to switch them is a disaster waiting to happen.

“I didn’t mean to.” Rachel whispers, staring at her coffee. She’s scared, terrified. Apparently she had lost her mom earlier, from what Dick’s told him, and now she’s driving off with two random dudes who saved her from a… sacrifice? Was that, like, a satanic sacrifice or some shit? “Really.”

“We believe you.” Dick’s voice has softened, now, turned gentle as he leans forward. “What happened, has it ever happened before?”

Rachel stares at something in the distance for a long moment. “No. Never.”

That’s a lie. They both know it. Dick doesn’t mention it, and neither does Jason. “I know it’s scary.” Dick continues, voice soothing. “But we’ll figure this out. I have some old friends who can help, okay? We’ll stay with them for a few days while we figure this out.”

Jason keeps his expression passive even as he wonders who the fuck Dick could possibly be talking about. Old friends? What friends does he have outside of Gotham? No way he’s talking about Bloodhaven.

Rachel nods but doesn’t speak. She’s trembling, very slightly, and Jason’s heart aches. “Hey, no need to worry.” He’s much worse at this, but Rachel’s looking at him now so there’s that at least. “We’ll protect you. Promise.”

Rachel’s lip quivers. “You got… stabbed, protecting me.”

Jason grins, sips his hot chocolate. “I’ve had worse.”

Rachel blinks. Dick makes a face. “He’s lying.”

“No he’s not.” Rachel says at the same time Jason says, “No I’m not.” They pause, glance at each other, and for a second Rachel almost looks like she might smile.

“Seriously, though, I’m fine.” Jason reassures her, dusts off his shoulders in faked confidence. “One measly little stab wound is nothing - we grew up in Gotham.”

Rachel’s eyes widen. “Gotham?! You grew up in Gotham?!”

So she hasn’t connected the dots of Dick being Dick Grayson, son of Bruce Wayne. She’s had a long few hours, Jason can’t blame her. That reveal will be funny, though.

Dick whacks him upside the head, and Jason snickers, pulls away. “In Gotham, everyone has a monthly stabbing quota, so not to worry-”

Dick, knowing he can’t make him stop, grabs for his hot chocolate instead. Jason makes an unbecoming sound a little too similar to a whine and grabs at it, holding it in both hands once he had it back. “Rude.”

“Stop lying about Gotham.” Dick looks exasperated, though there’s a smile on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes, but it’s something. Rachel looks a little less tense as well. Jason wiggles his eyebrows at Dick, glances at Rachel. He gets the message, and his next smile is a bit more genuine, a bit more like the brother Jason remembers.

They stop at a hotel in, once again, the middle of nowhere. Jason’s room is nice, empty, because he’s not stupid enough to unpack his suitcase. Rachel’s in a two bedroom joint with Dick, watching tv, and Dick’s outside brooding in his car.

Jason sighs, opens his phone and calls his most frequently called number, god he has no friends. “He’s so broody.”

“Then fix it.” Tim replies almost immediately, sounding once again wired. Jason’s guessing it’s been at least 50 hours since he last slept. “You have one job, Todd.”

“Yes, but- alright, you were right.” Jason hates telling Tim he was right, ugh. “Something is going on. We saved a girl from being sacrificed, but this girl is, like, maybe a demon or something.”

“...a demon girl?” Tim sounds both disbelieving and disapproving. “You saved a demon girl from being sacrificed?”

“Maybe a demon girl. She’s like fourteen and she’s definitely got some weird ass dangerous powers and the guy trying to kill her said she would bring about the world’s destruction but- this is not what I call you about!” Jason hates his life. “Point is, Dick is like, in a really bad place. Like, this is above my paygrade.”

“What do you mean, above your paygrade? Family doesn’t get paid to act like family.” Tim sounds annoyed now. “You’re freaking out right now, are you hurt or something? You only panic when you're injured.”

God fucking damnit his family knows him so well. He didn’t even realize he was panicking. “Yes, maybe, stab wound, y’know. I just, Tim I don’t know what to do, I’m not good at this.”

“You pulled him out of his spiral last time.” Tim reminds him, voice nearing gentle. “Just… be there, for him. Your presence is actually kind of soothing, half the time.”

Jason stares at the wall, baffled. “Tim-”

“I never said that.” Tim says breezily, quickly and casually. “Now, is that all?”

“I guess.” Jason doesn’t feel better, per se, but he does know he needs to get his head out of his ass. “Actually, when was the last time you slept-”

There’s no answer. Tim had hung up, most likely to avoid answering the question. Which means it’s probably closer to over 60. There’s an idea, he should just have Dick call Tim and get him to sleep, that’ll fix their older brother.

He goes outside, leans against the driver door and waits until Dick rolls down the window. He’s on call with someone, though he can’t hear who. Dick makes him wait for a few minutes before opening the car door. “What?”

Jason peeks inside the car, sees the briefcase on the passager seat. “What’s with the whole Robin getup?” He asks, because Dick hasn’t worn the Robin suit in years now. “Thought you liked being Nightwing.”

“I do.” Dick’s eyes dart between him and the case. “If people think Nightwing is still in Bloodhaven, crime will stay low. You’ve been reading the news?”

“How do you think I found you?” Jason asks. “With that stunt, turning off your tracker. ‘Slike you want us to worry about you.”

Dick glares. “They think the Robin in Detroit was a copycat of the original.” He continues, as if Jason hadn’t even spoken. “Since the current Robin is way too young and the old Robins have been gone for so long. They think someone is just trying out being a vigilante for fun.”

Ah. Jason frowns. “But you're dragging the Robin name through the dirt. Are you… fine with that?”

Dick makes a face that makes Jason regret ever asking. “You should be asking Tim that.” He says, looks away. “I’m not Robin, why would it matter to me?”

Dick goes out to get pizza. Jason debates between going with him, staying and watching tv with Rachel, or just fucking off into his own room for a nap (he hasn’t slept in over two days, maybe that’s where Tim gets it from). Dick leaves without him, which cuts his choices down to two.

He settles for something in the middle.

“You shouldn’t have shoes on the bed.” Rachel says, still watching TV. She’s in the other room, can’t even see as he collapses onto Dick’s bed. Is he just that predictable?

“It’s fine.” He mutters, covers his eyes. Rachel, apparently bored with her tv show, walks into the main room, eyes the briefcase holding the Robin suit. Jason snorts. “It’s locked.”

Rachel doesn’t believe him, tries it anyway. Jason is reminded of himself at that age, newly adopted with so much to prove. It was a good year, until it wasn’t. “What’s in it?”

“Ain’t my secret to tell.” He yawns, keeps a single eye open as Rachel walks over to the other case. While he’s sure Rachel won’t kill him, he can’t quite forget what she’s capable of. “Ask Dick.”

Rachel hums, opens up the case, which is unlocked, and starts searching the web. Jason makes a mental note to remind Dick to set a computer passcode, the dumbass.

He closes his eyes fully, because there’s no way Dick is stupid enough to leave anything secret on an unlocked digital device. Rachel seems completely engrossed in whatever she’s searching. Jason, slowly, starts drifting off.

“Bruce Wayne?!”

Ah, that’s what she was searching.

“Yep.” He says, not bothering to open his eyes. “Billionaire with too much money adopts a circus rat and a street rat. Tale as old as time.”

Rachel is quiet for a moment. “You lived on the streets?”

Jason keeps very still, keeps his voice even as well. “You do what you have to. Listen, don’t mention Bruce anymore than you have to, please and thank you. Our relationship with him is very much love-hate.”

Rachel is quiet for a long while. When Jason is sure she isn’t going to ask another question, he allows himself to drift off.

Only to wake up to a scream.

He’s immediately jolted out of bed, side burning in pain as he reaches for a gun he doesn’t have. Instead he pulls out a concealed knife, glancing around, wide awake and aware.

Rachel’s on the floor near the computer, curled up with her hands in her hair, breathing wildly. Her eyes are unfocused, panicked, and she doesn’t even seem to see him as she grabs at a notebook, starts frantically drawing what looks like crosses into the page.

“Rachel?” Jason stows the knife the moment he sees that they’re alone. He crouches to the ground, tries to look smaller than he is. Rachel is muttering something now, something that sounds suspiciously like a prayer. “Rachel!”

Rachel jerks, stares at him with wide eyes. “N-no.” She sounds close to crying. Quickly, she starts ripping out some of the cross drawings, throwing them on the ground between them. “No, stay back! Stay away!”

She’s full blown crying now, and Jason is completely out of his comfort zone, this is not his area of expertise, where is Dick with the pizza-

“Rachel, it’s okay.” Still, he has to try. “Everything is okay, whatever happened-”

“No!” Rachel says, hands shaking. She’s still drawing crosses. “Stay away, I don’t want to-”

Her eyes dart to the computer. Jason glances over, sees a picture of a corpse on a piece of paper. It looks familiar.

Is… did she do that? Was that the guy who tried to kill her?

“It’s okay.” He says again, inches closer. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about me getting hurt. I’m stronger than I look.”

Rachel is near hyperventilating, but her hands have stopped moving. She’s no longer making crosses. “I… I might hurt you.”

“And it’ll be on me.” Jason says, creeps forward again. “Really, Rach, it’ll be okay. You said what happened had never happened before, right? Well, the only guy you hurt tried to hurt you. Meaning nothing will happen to me.”

Rachel takes a deep, haggard breath. Jason moves the last bit forward, and Rachel lunges forward, wraps him up in a hug, and Jason tries to comfort her back. “It’s… I don’t-” A shuddering sob. “I killed someone!”

She starts crying again. Jason stays on the floor, holding her as she cries. Which is fine, she definitely needs to let it all out, even if his muscles are starting to lock and cramp. That’s how Dick finds them, ten or so minutes later. He shouldn’t be surprised when Rachel immediately goes to Dick, especially given the whole circus thing. What really worries him is what happened when he was asleep - did Rachel try and kill him, or did she see the picture of that body and panic at the idea of killing him?

Whatever it was, it did not bode well.

Washington DC is, in Jason’s opinion, a better city than Detroit, but that’s not really a high bar to pass. Jason parks his motorcycle next to Dick’s car in front of a nice apartment building and wonders who the fuck Dick knows that lives here. “Why are we here?”

Rachel is calmer than she was previously, which is a good sign. Dick does not look any less stressed, but he’s doing a good job of hiding it. “Friends live here- remember Hank and Dawn?”

…mmm yes wait them?!

Those were names Jason vaguely remembers from just after coming back to life, after he got his shit together. Weren’t they in the Titans?

Jason’s never actually met Dick’s superhero group, the so called Titans, mostly because he was dead when it formed. Dick, mourning his loss most likely, fucked right out of Gotham and formed his own superhero group to cope with the death of his brother. They lasted for however long and Jason came back to life at some point, went on a journey of self discovery (i.e. he almost murdered Tim, twice-) and was finally refinding his footing when, for reasons Jason still doesn’t know, the Titans disbanded, horribly. Dick was then off the grid for weeks, near a month, before Tim got really worried and asked Jason, the guy who almost killed him, to find him and bring him back home.

There was a year or so where Dick acted strange, like he is now. Jason, though, didn’t deal with bullshit like that, and over time Dick got over whatever was bothering him, and the three of them grew closer as a result. So, like, silver linings, he guesses.

They go up a few flights and find themselves at the end of the hallway. Jason waits in the back, watching the rear, as Dick knocks on the door. A pretty woman answers the door, very much not expecting them. Greetings are exchanged while Jason wonders if getting a room in a hotel nearby would be a good idea. Their apartment can’t have much space, right?

“And who is this?” Dawn asks, and when Jason turns he sees that Rachel is already inside checking out the apartment. Dick is standing awkwardly by the door, waiting for him. “Another kid in need of help?”

He is, technically, a legal adult, even if he is a teenager, thank you very much. “I’m Jason.” He smiles, does not expect to see recognition and horror flash across her face. “Dickhead’s brother.”

Whatever caused that expression, Dawn does not voice it. Instead she reaches out, shakes his hand. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Jason. Dick always spoke fondly of you.”

Dick flushes, and Jason is just surprised he even mentioned him, after he died. The Wayne family is the type to, like, bury that shit. He expected to become he-who-must-not-be-named, it’s a little heartwarming, knowing Dick kept his memory going.

“Awe, Wing, you shouldn’t have.” He bumps his shoulder against Dick’s as he passes, winces when he pulls his stitches. “Also, definitely just pulled a stitch.”

“Jason!”

They head up to the roof, and Rachel b-lines to the birdcage as Dick tries to explain to Dawn why they’ve brought the trouble to them. Dawn though, is, very obviously, a bleeding heart that can’t say no to children in danger, just like Dick. Jason spends the conversation using the bench as a divider between himself and Rachel so that she didn’t see him struggle to restitch his wound.

(It was one stitch, come on, this was embarrassing just thread through-)

Bruce is mentioned, and Dick makes some comment about it. Jason tunes in at that, because Dick is right, Bruce is not good with children, but he could protect Rachel, could handle this as well as they could. Jason rather not ever see Bruce again, really, but he knows better than to completely cut him out. Not when, apparently, Rachel could end the world.

Jason’s just finished tying off the stitches when a new voice sets his nerves on edge. Mostly because it sounds like someone looking for a fight. Specifically, a fight with his brother. “Hey, the hell are you doing here, Dick?”

The guy is tall and buff and definitely not a pushover. Absolutely someone Jason doesn’t want to fight right now, but given how aggressive he was currently being Jason assumed that might be the only option. At least he would have the element of surprise, this guy would never expect it. Jason stands, prepared to jump the guy the moment it looked like he was actually going to attack Dick. 

“Nice little reunion you got going here. And who the fuck is this kid?” The guy, Hank Jason has to guess, gestures at him. Jason tries not to react to his tone, which makes him immediately want to maim the guy. Especially with how aggro he is being to Dick - Jason would not hesitate- 

“Hank.” Dawn says, voice a bit more stern, because even she knows being aggressive in this situation is monumentally stupid. Rachel is watching now, obviously uncomfortable. That just makes Jason more angry. Dawn looks at Rachel, prompting Hank to too. Immediately, Hank’s posture softens a little. At least he has manners around children.

“What the fuck?” Nevermind. 

Dick, though, doesn’t seem to like his attention on Rachel. Probably because Rachel had a bad first impression and now looked even more uncomfortable with the attention on her. “And this is Jason, my brother.”

Hank spins back around, almost an angry look on his face, like he doesn’t believe him. “You said-” Then he stops, looks at Jason again. Sees something he hasn’t before. “Back from the dead, huh?”

Of course he knew, they all knew. Jason tries not to fidget. “Hell can’t keep me for long.”

Hank makes a face. “What the hell… how old are you, 17? Why the fuck…” His eyes dart to Rachel as he cuts himself off. Jason can’t help but grin.

“You know us.” He doesn’t, obviously he doesn’t, and Jason can’t forget how aggressive he just was, but he can at least try to be nice. “Our family likes to start early.”

“Let's go back inside.” Dawn says, does not take no for an answer. She marches inside, Hank glaring at Dick before turning on his heel and following.

“Man.” Jason whistles, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walks up to Dick’s side. “What on earth did you do to get on his bad side?”

“He was with Dawn.” Rachel calls out, listening in. “Y’know, like-” She takes her hands and laces her fingers together. Jason gapes at her, turns to gape at him.

Dick shakes his head with a sigh. “How’d you know that, Rachel?”

Rachel turns towards the birds like that means she won't have to answer. Jason throws her a bone. “Same way she knows about the circus, I recon.” 

Dick makes a face, follows the others inside. Jason stays with Rachel. “You’ll have to explain it, eventually.”

“I will.” She promises, turns away from the birds to look at him. “Once I understand it in the first place.”

Jason was right, there is not enough space. He should've gotten a hotel room. Needless to say, he might break Tim’s record soon enough of ‘not sleeping with only twenty minute naps to sustain oneself for weeks on end’ . Because, of course, they’re staying here for a few days, and Jason’s not really in any situation to be, y’know, doing shit. Because, apparently, anger or not Dick, Dawn, and Hank are able to agree on one thing, and it is Jason needs to rest all hours of the day.  

Dawn looks over his wound first thing in the morning, and Hank just happens to pass by as she does so. Instead of scowling or glaring angrily at Dick, who sits nearby, he instead makes a face at his wound and grabs him some pain killers. The good kind too. Damn near ruffles his hair when Jason thanks him, like it’s an innate reaction or some shit. It makes Dawn crack a smile and Hank scowl more as he marches out of the room, like he had just conceded something for being a good person.

(He sees why Dick befriended them. They’re just him in a different font.)

“Hank’s a good guy.” Dawn says, obviously defending her partner. “He’s rough around the edges, but he cares, and he doesn’t want to see a kid in pain.”

Again, legal adult, but sure whatever. Jason can’t deny that he does still look like a high schooler, so he’ll give them the pass. Especially if it makes Dick realize he’s been acting like a fool, that would be a nice bonus.

He’s left to lay across the couch, snoozing, and some amount of days go by in a haze. He gains a small fever, loses it just as quickly, and pretends to be a lot less coherent than he actually is, mostly because then people will say things around him not knowing he’s paying attention. Dawn and Hank are planning some kind of mission, and Dawn wants Dick in on it. Hank hates the idea, of course, but the next day Dawn is talking to Dick about it so it’s obvious who won out there.

He wakes up in the middle of the night to Dick putting a thick envelope under a few blankets. He, being the noisy person he is and also the one able to smell bull from a mile away, reaches over and grabs the envelope, opening it.

“Jay-” Dick groans, obviously wanting it to be a secret. Jason reads over the contents of the letter, brows drawing together. He was going to leave Rachel here, with Dawn and Hank. “Jason, just-”

“This is real pathetic, Dick.” He’s surprised by the amount of acid in his voice, as is Dick. His brother flinches. “Gonna abandon the girl who obviously needs your help? Who the fuck are you and where is my brother?”

“Jason…” He sighs, as if trying to explain something to a child. “I can’t care for her, Jay. Our family-”

“I’m not leaving here without her.” Jason says, an ultimatum, finishing this stupid ass idea right here and now. “So what will it be - deal with your problems here or run away from them and me?”

And Dick could never run away from him, because his conscious, brooding emo phase or not, will not let him. Not now, not ever. 

The money is put away, the letter burned. Jason keeps an eye out for him doing it again, sneakier this time, but finds nothing.

Rachel, on the other hand, is doing well. She’s taken a liking to Dawn, and the consistency of each day, of not having to move around, is definitely a positive. When she’s not with Dawn, she’s usually sitting next to Dick on the smaller couch, talking to him, watching tv, or watching Jason, like she was afraid he was just going to go and die on her or something.

Then, of course, it all comes to a head.

Hank is out, Rachel is watching tv and Dawn and Dick are talking about something in low tones. Jason, for the first time in a few days, is awake enough to feel restless. “I’m going to go out for a run.”

“They won’t let you.” Rachel says, doesn’t even look at him. It occurs to him then that he’s been lumped into the same group as Rachel, the ‘kid’ group, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. “Just watch with me - there’s dragons now.”

Jason snorts, stands up so he can at least walk around the apartment. He does a few laps, tries to catch whatever it is that Dawn and Dick are talking about. He’s on the fourth round when Hank comes home.

“Well isn’t this cozy?” Hank’s voice is low, in a tone Jason hasn’t heard since the first day they were here. He immediately grabs his backpack, heads towards where Hank stands, glaring down at Dick and Dawn. Who… aren’t holding hands, per se, but Dawn’s hand is over his, which could be both friendly or romantic. It’s easy to see how Hank’s taken it.

Dick pulls his hand away, very obviously. He looks at Jason, who stands to the side. His eyes tell him not to get involved.

Yeah, as if.

“Just like the old days.” Hank says, very much in his feels, and Jason can only wonder just how bad Dick fucked up to make Hank this mad, if it was even fair for him to be this mad. Dawn obviously isn’t as angry, is he overreacting or is Dawn underreacting?

Dick tries to de-escalate. “We’re just talking things through-”

“You come and go.” Hank says, and Rachel appears in the doorway, curious and hesitant. She looks at Hank, who creeps forward in a way that screams ‘I’m about to kill a motherfucker’ and then stares at Jason, silently pleading for him to somehow stop whatever was about to happen. “Take what you want…”

“Hank-” Dawn starts, puts a hand on his shoulder, and Hank jerks out of the way, livid. Dick takes that as invitation to stand, posture telling Jason that he was absolutely about to start, or maybe finish, a fight.

Luckily, Jason has, in his backpack, the ultimate peacemaker. 

“Alright, everyone calm the fuck down.”

Both Dick and Hank freeze, less than a foot away from each other. Jason stands to the side, his ultimate peacemaker in hand and aimed at them. A gun is a great way to finish nonsense before it starts.

“Seriously.” Only problem is now Jason’s a little pissed, because what the actual fuck. “Are you both children or something? Can’t be in the same room without trying to pick a fight?”

“Jay.” Dick sighs, relaxes his posture in a way to tell Jason that he wasn’t going to fight Hank, when he absolutely would. “Just-”

“No, Dick.” Jason cuts him off. “I’m getting fucking tired of this. Stop acting like a broody teen before I drag your ass back to Gotham and make you reconcile with B myself. Hank, I swear to god if you don’t stop with this fucking jealousy - they dated years ago, she’s with you now, get over it! Cause it really doesn’t matter to me what Dick did, if you keep acting like you want to attack my brother I will kill you.”

Hank is seething, Dick looks disappointed, Dawn even moreso, and Rachel is just scared. He sighs, lowers the gun. “If you’re going to fight it out, do it in your own time, elsewhere.”

He gestures towards Rachel. They all turn to look at her, twin expressions of guilt taking over their features. Serves them right.

He sighs again. “I want ice cream.” He says, glances at Rachel once before stuffing the gun (which wasn’t loaded, though they don’t need to know that - well, Dick had probably guessed it) back into his bag. “See you in a few.”

He goes out to get ice cream. Rachel asks to join him. They walk around DC for a few hours, mostly in silence.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Jason finally says, on their way back. He feels the need to say it. 

“Do you just carry guns with you?” Rachel asks. “Like, everywhere?”

“Pretty much.” Jason shrugs. “I’m from Gotham, remember? And Dick and Hank, it’s the quickest way to get them to pay attention.”

Rachel is quiet for a moment. “Do you really think they’re gonna fight?”

“Maybe.” He says, remembers that Rachel doesn’t know that they’re vigilantes, and fight for fun. “It’ll be more like sparring. They both have combat experience, and it’s a good way to blow off steam.”

“Oh.” She looks towards the ground. “There’s a lot going on that I don’t know about.”

Jason snorts. “I’m with you on that, Rach.”

“Yeah.” She tilts her head to the side. “A few days ago, Hank said you… came back from the dead?”

Jason doesn’t flinch, because he had been expecting it, at some point. “Told you I’ve had much worse than a stab wound.”

Rachel seems to understand the severity of that topic, and doesn’t bring it up again. “Is Dick alright?” She asks instead. “He doesn’t seem it, and you mentioned earlier…”

That he was acting like a brooding teenager, yes. “Something’s wrong, can’t figure out what yet. He got in a fight with dad and has been distancing himself since. Our younger brother asked me to check on him.”

“Now all this is happening.” Rachel wrings her hands together. “Sorry.”

Jason laughs. “Helping people is kind of our job, Rachel, don’t worry about it.”

Rachel looks like she’s about to ask what exactly his job is, but she doesn’t. That’s for the best, because Jason does not have an answer pre-prepared. 

“You said younger brother?” Rachel asks instead, head tilted. “Is that, um, Tim?”

She had looked them up. Not surprising, at least he doesn’t have to explain it too much. “Yep. He was starting to freak, but he’s still in school so he couldn’t just up and leave.” Jason doesn’t mention that Tim has been texting him daily, especially after he didn’t answer after sleeping all day a couple days back, leading him to assume the worse and damn near fly to DC himself, which he would have done if Dick hadn’t answered his call and assured him that Jason was just sleeping like the dead and not actually dead.

“Hm.” Rachel looks contemplative. “It sounds… nice, having siblings. Having people care for you.”

“It’s more people to worry about, too.” He says, only half meaning it. “I mean, I had to go halfway across the country because Dick was completely shutting us out. Usually he’s nothing like this.”

“Really?” Rachel looks disbelieving. “I can’t imagine him not being dark and broody.”

It's then that Jason has a devious idea, payback in the most gratifying way. “Do I have some videos to show you.”

They spend the rest of the walk home looking at old videos of Dick Grayson being proudly Dick Grayson. When they finally get back and Dick walks up to Rachel, looking to apologize, she can’t keep a straight face and busts out laughing.

Dawn and Hank are planning something. The mission Jason’s heard bits and pieces of. He’s healed enough (which means he’s barely healed at all-) that he could help out, and he offers to Dawn as they prepare.

Hank laughs. “I’m not taking the baby brother on a mission.”

Jason scowls. “I’m getting tired of you calling me a kid, shithead.”

Hank just laughs some more. Dawn gives him an apologetic look. “He means that you’re still hurt, and if something happens to you neither of us could forgive ourselves.”

“You barely know me.” He crosses his arms. “I saw parts of the plan, you could use more help.”

“Jason-” Dawn sighs, but then Hank turns to him, something stern in his expression, and for once Jason felt compelled to listen. “You already died once.” He says, does not sugarcoat it, and for a second Jason feels young and small. “We won’t be the reason it happens again.”

Dick agrees with them, of fucking course, which puts him squarely on the bench with Rachel. They really do need the help, though, so Dick goes after them only a few minutes after they leave. That leaves just Rachel and Jason again, the two youngest, and Jason’s never really been a babysitter before but he does a pretty decent job at it. Rachel is still deep in Game of Thrones, so they watch a few episodes, Jason complaining about the fighting inaccuracies and why was there so much sex before they head back up to the birdcage, because Rachel really likes staring at them.

He debates calling Tim to pass the time (because wow he really has no friends that he can just randomly call for no reason does he-) when the others get home. Dick calls for them, and Jason calls out just so they don’t think they’ve been kidnapped or something. It’s a cold night, and for some reason the hair on his arms stand on end.

Well, he doesn’t have his main gun but he always keeps a smaller spare somewhere on his body. That should be enough, if it wasn’t his paranoia getting the best of him.

Dick appears from the stairwell, makes his way over. Rachel is staring at the birds like she’s hypnotized. It’s starting to get a little creepy.

“Rachel? Rach?” Dick has noticed too. He steps forward, calls her name once more.

Rachel turns to them, but it’s not quite… right. Her image seems to flicker, two of her making the same motion but delayed. It reminds Jason of what happened to that man.

They both still. Rachel looks at them. “What?”

Dick looks at Jason. Jason nods. Hank and Dawn come up the stairs. “Is something up?”

“Uh-” Jason says, very eloquently. “No? Don’t think so, at least.”

“It’s getting cold.” Dick says, puts a hand on her shoulder. “We should go back inside.”

“I think the weather is lovely.”

The hair on his arms stand straight up in attention. There are four new people on the roof, a seemingly family Jason has never seen before. How they got up here, Jason has no clue. All he knows is that something is definitely wrong and no one smiles like that, what the fuck-

“We’ve been looking for you, Rachel.” The man, dad, says, fake smile plastered serenely on his face. Jason doesn’t know whether to be happy that he’s not super paranoid, or be mad at the fact that it wasn’t just his paranoia.

Dick stands in front of Rachel. Hank takes a step forward. “Hey-”

The dad gut punches him, hard.

Then everything starts happening, and Jason cannot follow it all.

Rachel screams as Dick starts dragging her away, and Jason takes out his smaller gun, inwardly angry at the fact that it only has four bullets in it. The mother and son start attacking Dawn while the daughter goes to help her father, and Jason decides that this isn’t the time to hesitate, and puts two bullets into the dad’s dominant shoulder.

The dad grunts, keeps fighting as if he didn’t feel a thing.

Alright then, these guys are not normal, good to know.

The son turns to him, runs at him, and instead of feeling bad about shooting a kid he puts one in each of the son’s thighs. That, for some fucking reason, does not stop him at all. Instead he clocks Jason in the side of the head, which Jason is barely able to block, before pushing him to the side of the bird cage, near where Dick and Rachel had gone off too.

Jason is not bad at hand to hand combat, not at all, but it’s not his best skill. This kid hits like a truck as well, each blow he throws is rough, even with Jason blocking or guarding against them. He takes his gun, tries to bash him over the head with it, just for the kid to duck under and land a sucker punch right to his torso.

Over his stab wound.

…motherfucker did that on purpose.

Doesn’t matter now. His vision goes white and he sees stars as he damn near screams, crumpling to the ground in near agony. He’s sure he blacks out for a minute, unable to do anything besides breathe and try not to die.

His vision clears. He’s on the floor, of course, but the fighting has stopped. Given how badly his fight went, he’s guessing the others didn’t win either. Jason opens his eyes just a crack, trying to see what was going on.

Nothing good. Dick is nowhere to be seen, Hank has a wire around his neck, and Dawn is being held by her throat. Jason watches, tries to figure out what to do. The father, who’s holding Dawn, dips down, as if he’s about to throw something.

Her. Throw her.

Jason scrambles to his feet just as the father throws Dawn as if she weighs nothing. Dawn flies through the air with a scream, sailing through the bird cage and over the edge.

Jason lunges. His torso slams against the roof’s wall.

His hand closes around a wrist.

He wheezes as his body screams at him. Dawn groans in pain, shoulder most likely dislodged from being caught the way she was. Jason can barely hold her, but falling from this height, he can’t-

“You still have much to learn, son.” The dad, he’s speaking, and Jason can’t even turn to look at him, is doing all he can to hold Dawn up, keeping her from falling, and Hank is yelling something, and Jason needs to pull her up, before he gets here, before it’s too late-

Something cracks against the side of his head.

Everything goes dark.

Chapter Text

Jason wakes up with a pounding headache, not quite aware of where he is or what he was previously doing. He looks around - he’s on a roof? There’s debris and blood everywhere, actually there’s blood on him, caking his head oh that’s where the pain came from-

The sound of sirens. Flashing lights below him, burning his irises. He’s alone, up here, which is weird because wasn’t he with people-?

The sirens get louder. He stumbles to his feet, stumbles some more. His side burns in pain. His head is pounding ferociously, and he can’t quite remember where he is, what he’s doing here. Something is wrong, something is wrong-

“Jay!”

A blurry figure, appearing from the roof’s entrance. It’s a voice he recognizes, though he’s not sure why. His vision swims. He tries to take a step forward, finds the pain in his side too much to handle.

The figure runs up to him, does not get less blurry. Jason blinks blearily, unsure whether to trust this figure or run. He can’t quite remember who hurt him, either. “Who’re you?”

The figure speaks, and Jason’s vision clears, just a little. It’s his brother. Oh, he was with Dick? Why?

Jason takes another step forward, curls over and hacks and coughs. Dick falls to his side as Jason goes to his knees, blood splattering on the ground as he coughs and coughs and coughs.

There’s shouting, worry, fear. His first, and last coherent thought before the void takes him is that his stitches were most definitely pulled.

He wakes up in a painless haze, mind cloudy in a way that makes him more alert than anything else really can. He’s in a hospital, because no one else would give him the good pain killers. He wants to cough, his throat dry and something tastes awful in there, but the idea of it makes him nearly gag for a reason he doesn’t understand.

“Calm down, kid.”

…that’s not a voice he was expecting to hear.

Jason’s eyes snap open. Hank is standing next to his bed, looking genuinely worried for his wellbeing. Dawn sits in a chair next to his bed, looking very not okay. Her head is wrapped and she’s wearing a neck brace. A nurse flutters around nervously in the back of the large room, as if worried about the fact that Dawn is up and moving currently.

Jason blinks. Everything comes back to him. “God, fucking hell-”

He shifts, tries to move. There’s a dull pain coming from somewhere, and he’s got a knot in the back of his head, but otherwise he feels pretty fine. Well, fine relatively. He’s been knocked out enough to guess how long he’s been out, and it can’t have been more than a day. Meaning he is not actually fine, he is still grievously hurt, but if he left now he wouldn’t die, at least.

Plan in mind, he shifts some more, just to have Hank plant a hand on his shoulder. “Shouldn’t be moving right now.”

“I’m not the one who fell off a roof.” Jason scoffs, looking pointedly at Dawn. “What’s going on? Where’s Dick?”

“He stepped out for a moment.” Dawn’s voice is a bit raspy, nearly a croak. “He’s been here all night. I said we’d watch you for a little.”

Hank makes a weird glaring face at nothing. “Nurse didn’t like Dawn up either.”

Dawn makes a face that said she could rather care less. “When you caught me, on the roof, I was able to catch myself on the fire escape. Turned a forty foot fall to a fifteen.” Her smile was small but very, very real. “I think you saved my life, Jason.”

He blinks, suddenly unsure what to say. “Well, you know us.” He tries to laugh, finds it a bit painful. “My family, we love to save people. But, uh, where’s Rachel?”

Both of their faces went stony. Any leftover medical haze in Jason’s mind vanished in an instant. He sat up in bed, ignoring how his monitors started to whine and how the nurse inched closer. “Jason, wait-”

“Nurse!” Jason ignores Dawn. “Get the doctor, I want to be released.”

“Wait.” Hank’s voice is gruff. “Those people were after Rachel. We don’t know where they went. Dick is probably looking into it now.”

“You should rest.” Dawn urges, pot to kettle. “At least until he has a lead.”

“Rich, coming from you.” Jason wiggles his fingers and toes, pulls up his blanket and opens the side of his hospital gown. His stab wound is still a stab wound, inflamed and not okay, but it’s definitely closing, if not mostly closed. Jason’s going to say that has to do with being dipped in the pit, because he doesn’t know what else could cause such a healing factor. “Nurse, get the doctor please, and get Dawn back to her room, for fuck’s sake.”

Both Hank and Dawn look a little offended, but the nurse calls the doctor because that’s her job and if Jason doesn’t want them in his room they can’t be in here. Jason doesn’t go that far, yet, mostly because Dick will probably throw a fit and he doesn’t want to deal with that either.

So the doctor examines him with both Dawn and Hank in the room, and the nurse gets a better chair for Dawn to stay in while they wait. The doctor says that while technically he could be fit for release, it is strongly recommended that he stays here. Jason smiles and asks for the release papers.

The doctor stutters. He turns to Hank. “What’s your relation to Mr. Todd?”

Hank grunts. “...friend of his guardian.”

Jason blinks. His eyes narrow. Guardian? Wait a second-

The doctor looked relieved. “I need your guardian’s permission to release you, Mr. Todd.”

Jason’s jaw drops to the floor as Hank looks entirely too pleased. It soon morphs into a scowl. “I am a legal adult!”

The doctor looks a little too smug. “I will need identification for approval.”

Jason grumbles. “Okay, where’d you put my clothes? My ID is in there.”

And, of course, his clothes are magically somewhere else that will take a while to get to him. Jason wants to scream.

That is, luckily for everyone else, when the door opens. “Jay.” Dick’s eyes are wide, pure relief floating through them. “You’re awake.”

“Dick Grayson.” Jason is about to have a conniption. “If you do not tell this motherfucker I am a legal adult right now so help me god-”

Dick frowns, looks between the doctor and Hank and Dawn. The latter two have a good poker face, and the doctor is starting to realize that he is indeed an adult. “...are you trying to get released early?”

…he better not join in on it. “Don’t lie to a medical professional, Dickie boy. Tell the doctor the truth before I call up ‘our guardian’ .”

Something neither of them wanted, from the way they both shivered. Dick sighs, turns and shakes the doctor’s hand. “Richard Grayson, Jason’s brother. He is indeed a legal adult - turned 19 a few months ago.”

After a bit of confirmation, the doctor reluctantly gave him the release forms. Hank and Dawn went back to Dawn’s room after a while, and suddenly it was just the two of them as the doctor worked on his release (and getting his clothes back).

“So.” Jason crosses his arms, expression serious. “What did you find while I was out?”

He’s starting to understand why Dick is being such a debbie downer. Apparently, it comes from being a detective in Detroit, or just being a detective in general.

Oh yeah, and his new partner was just murdered. What the fuck?

They strap Jason’s motorcycle to the back of Dick’s car (it’s a bit shoddy, but they added modifications months ago to allow something like this. This ain’t the first time it’s happened-) and now they both stand outside in the cold, Dick’s arms crossed and Jason’s in his pockets.

“So.” Jason says again. “I put twenty dollars on it being magic and not someone who just likes arson.”

Dick side eyes him. “Why would I take you up on that?” He looks Jason over once more, finds nothing because Jason is on that good stuff, and goes to the driver’s side door, opens it. “Better whoever this woman is than that family, but-”

“She might be more dangerous.” Jason finished for him, hobbles over to the other side. He sits down, closes the door, and pauses. “Where’s my suit?”

“In the back.” Dick gestures to his backpack in the back compartment, on top of his folder suit. “You’ll need to get it fixed eventually - tear in the abdomen.”

Probably because he got stabbed a week ago. He hums, reaches back to grab it and the bag while Dick starts the car. He always keeps a needle and thread on him, and it’s not like he’s got much else to do.

They make it half an hour in the silence before Jason has to ask. “So, what happened between you and Bruce?”

Dick scowls. “Why does it matter?”

Jason snorts, like that was a dumb question, because it was. “You’ve been acting like a whole different person lately, Dickiebird.”

His scowl deepens. “Maybe this is just who I truly am.”

Jason laughs, does not even try to smother it. “Do not, Dickwad. Bruce’s dark and moody does not work on you. Isn’t that why you passed up on the Batman mantle? You’re too good to be him.”

“Where has being good ever gotten us?” Dick asks, sounding defeated. “Every night we go out, trying to stop crime, and every night there’s new criminals, new cases, more death and destruction. We try and try and make no difference and yet we still have to keep doing it this way because if we don’t we’re not good.” Dick’s expression is dark. “All being good has even done is gotten people, gotten us, killed.”

It’s quiet, for a long moment.

“If you could kill Gotham’s villains.” Jason spoke slowly. “If you got the chance, would you?”

Dick’s voice catches. There’s a strange darkness in his eyes. “If it saved lives, yes.”

Jason hums. “Remember last Thanksgiving, when we all got together but some random guy decided to turn Gotham’s museum into a miniature nuke?” Dick nods, eyes on the road. “We couldn’t stop it, couldn’t evacuate everyone on time, but then Harley showed up? You convinced her to help, and she was able to talk the guy down from it all?”

Dick sighs. “Not all villains can be redeemed.” 

“No, they can’t.” Jason agrees. “But some can be, and they need someone like you to convince them to take the right path. Bruce can’t do that, and I sure as hell can’t either.”

“You can.” Dick immediately protests. Jason hides his smile. “You just have to-”

“I know how hard it can be.” Jason continues. “But we can’t give up. People look up to Nightwing because of his optimism, because of the hope he gives others. We can’t lose that, you can’t lose that.”

Dick is quiet. There’s no response.

Jason finishes it out lighthearted. “Uncle Clark thought you were the brightest of us all.”

Dick immediately groans, rolling his eyes. “Do not bring him into this!”

“You don’t wanna make Superman sad, do you?” Jason can’t help but grin. “Or, even worse, disappointed.”

Dick whacks him on the shoulder. Jason yelps and snickers.

“Stay in the car.” Dick says. They pull up to a gas station surrounded by firefighters and policemen. Part of the building looks like it was burn to ashes.

Jason, who has been slowly feeling the meds where off and was also in and out of sleep, fought to stay at least somewhat peaceful looking. “Didn’t plan to move.”

Dick gives him a onceover before leaving. He comes back a few minutes later with a USB, messing around with it and a tablet. “Found her.”

He hands it over to Jason, gets back on the road. Jason watches the station’s outside cameras, sees Rachel and that freaky family, before seeing a woman absolutely toast the father. “Twenty bucks to me.”

“I never took that bet.” Dick snorts, pushing down on the accelerator. “Trace that license plate.”

“You got it.”

They park at a roller rink. Jason has to haul himself out, the pain in his side and head now constant. He took some painkillers earlier, so hopefully that’ll make it a bit better.

“I’ll find the woman, you get Rachel.” Dick closes his door, strides with purpose inside. Jason follows.

The woman is easy to find. Jason lets Dick deal with her as he goes farther in, spotting Rachel with some boy at the arcade. “I’ve gotten a high score on this before, y’know.”

Rachel spins around. “Jason!” She hugs him tightly, and Jason grunts at the force of it. Something cold brushes along his spine, and Rachel jerks back like she was burned. “You’re hurt.”

Jason glances at the boy, who stands there awkwardly. “That family really didn’t like me.” He mutters. “Who’s the boy?”

“Um, Gar!” The boy holds out his hand, still very awkward. “You're, um, Rachel’s brother?”

“Something like that.” Jason shakes his hand just because it would be more awkward if he didn’t. “Nice meeting you and everything, but we have to go.”

He takes her where he last saw Dick. He’s still there, and now he and that woman are having a quiet argument. Rachel looks beyond relieved. “You fell off the roof.” She explains, and Jason stares at Dick because when did that happen? “And Dawn- is everyone okay?”

“She will be.” Dick assures. “But we can’t talk about that here, now. Come on.”

He starts marching outside, and Rachel follows with a cut off. “Wait!” Jason goes after them, eyeing the woman who looks pretty relaxed for having just killed someone earlier. That’s never really a good sign.

“Can you please wait?” Rachel was saying. Dick is marching ahead, towards his car, a determination on his features that doesn’t feel good, mostly because it means Jason is about to have to drive his motorcycle again, probable concussion and all.

“We can’t, Rach.” Dick spins around, inhales sharply and exhales, calming himself. “The police think you were the one who killed your mother. They’re after you.”

Rachel gapes. “W-What?”

“And you-” His voice gets a lot sharper as he points at the woman. “You assaulted several police officers in Michigan, and scorched that father at the gas station. Kidnapping too. You’re wanted as well.”

The lady didn’t seem to care much. Rachel’s eyes were wide and a bit glassy.

“Why did you kidnap Rachel?” Jason asks, crossing his arms. This lady was off, mostly because of how nonchalant she was acting.

“I didn’t kidnap her, I saved her.” The lady matches his crossed arms. “Look, I lost my memories I while back and I thought Rachel would be the key to unlocking them.”

Totally likely story. “And did that happen?”

“No.” She scowls at nothing in particular. “But she’s in obvious danger so I’ve been protecting her anyway.”

“With fire powers, apparently.” Jason grunts. “And you conveniently don’t know who you are?”

“Kori Anders.” She introduces herself, a hesitance in her voice like she doesn’t feel as if the name fits. “You must be Jason, if the other one is a dick.”

Jason holds in his snort, just barely. He turns to Rachel. “She saved you?”

Rachel blinks rapidly, tuning back into the conversation. “She did. She’s… I feel safe, with her.”

“She ransacked your house and assaulted police officers.” Dick reiterates, as if they haven’t done the same. Rachel doesn’t seem to care either way.

“She saved me.” Rachel sets her stance. “When you didn’t.”

“Alright, unfair.” Jason makes the universal time out gesture. “Not like we didn’t try, Rach. Not everyone can shoot fire from their hands.”

“And if they come back?” Rachel questions, voice rising. “If they come back, if someone worse shows up? You couldn’t, you can’t stop them! They’re not human, I can’t expect-”

Her voice starts to get louder and louder. Jason takes a cautious step forward. “Rach, you don’t have to worry about us-”

“But I am!” She screams, and her face goes grey, eyes flashing black. There’s a blast of air, a pressure shift. Every car in the parking lot shutters. Windows shatter. “You're going to die, protecting me!”

“Rachel!” Dick is at her side, but Rachel stumbles away, suddenly fearful.

“Please, no.” Her voice goes soft. “I need, I need- the sisters, please.” 

He locks eyes with Dick, who then turns to Kori. “Alright.” He says, and Rachel twitches, her face going from normal to grey and back again. “Alright, we’ll go.”

Kori and Rachel get into Kori’s car, Dick and Jason following after in their own.

He’s given a room because anyone with a decent pair of eyes can see that he’s paler than the holy ghost and even Kori pulls him to the side to ask if he’s okay.

No, he’s not, but it’s fine, he’s had worse.

Rachel immediately runs to the church, and Dick is about to run after her when Jason staggers, a new wave of vertigo taking hold, and Dick spends a moment fretting over him like old times. He almost thanks his concussion for giving him a glimpse of the Dick he’s been looking for, no matter how small that might be.

Then he’s escorted to a bed and he conks out much too quickly, given how he slept most of the ride from DC here. It’s a nice, deep sleep. Until someone screams.

Someone screams, the world tilts, and his mind shudders, and suddenly, it's no longer just his own.

Jason jolts out of bed, immediately on the move because that scream was much too loud, pierced his ears and seemed to echo in his soul. The ground shakes and rumbles and he smells smoke, sees fire. Nuns scream around him.

He stumbles forward, someone in his head urging him towards the origin of the scream. Like a fish stuck on a hook he is dragged towards it, beckoned. As if he’s only in partial control of himself. Jason doesn’t question it, just grabs his bag and goes.

He stumbles out of a hole in the wall, suddenly outside at the back of the building. His head and side pounds to the beat of his heart. That ghastly wail echoes in his head. All he can think about is finding the source. 

“You should be resting, Jason.”

He turns around, finds two nuns standing right behind him, smiling. Jason is immediately on edge, because what? “Uh, everything’s on fire.”

“It’s being dealt with.” One assures, as they both take a step forward. Jason, not in the best of health and still mostly focused on finding the source of the scream, just stares. Because this was very weird, and he couldn't really figure out what to do over the sound of his heartbeat, the pain in his body, that scream that just won’t leave his ears.

Then, from another hole lower down in the building, Rachel stumbles out. She looks like she doesn’t even see them, for a moment, ready to run and not look back. Then her eyes flutter, she sees Jason and the nuns. She suddenly looks scared.

Jason takes a step towards her, even as she takes a step back. The scream, it was her. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he can tell it’s drawing him towards her. He has to help her, somehow. She wants help. “Rach-”

He pauses, gasps in pain and falls to the ground, because one of the nuns had thrown out an arm, intent on stopping him from going to her. Instead the arm catches him in the side with a little too much force and wow he sees stars.

“No.” He hears Rachel, is too far away, shouldn’t hear her, but he does. She whispers it and yet it’s so clear in his mind, rings in his ears. One of the nuns gasps and crouches down next to him, concerned. He groans in pain. “No! Leave him alone!”

They scream. One is thrown away from him, the other gurgles and chokes on something he cannot see, falling listlessly to the ground. Jason watches, eyes wide and arm wrapped around his middle. Rachel just attacked them, Rachel caused this damage, why? Has she lost it?

Or did she think these nuns weren’t to be trusted? Did something happen? Where was Dick and Kori?

“Jason!” Every worried thought in his head vanish like it was never there. His full attention is back on Rachel, back on the origin of the scream. The urge to find it is slowly fading, but it’s still strong. He has to help, she needs help, she needs them- “Are you okay?”

No. “I’ll be fine.” He forces himself to stand, because she needs him. “What happened?”

Rachel bites her lip, looks so scared, like she wants to run. Her head darts between the building and the woods. She definitely wants to run. “They- they locked me up! W-we have to go!”

They should wait for Dick. They should confront the nuns. They should make sure no one is grievously hurt.

Jason can’t think over the pain, over the scream, over the fact that she needs him. He has his bag, he has his phone, everything else can be solved after, once he can think clearly once more. “Lets go then.”

Rachel grabs his hand, an anchor for him and a comfort for her. Then she runs, and there’s suddenly so much adrenaline, as if someone had flipped a switch, and Jason can only wonder what exactly Rachel’s powers are, to make him feel like this, as they rush off into the woods.

Chapter Text

He doesn’t know how long they run for.

Everything rushes past him in a hazy blur. Nothing really registers past the crunch of the ground underneath his boots and Rachel’s hand in his, and that ever present voice, help her.

He is, it can shut up now. 

Rachel’s crying, he thinks, probably because of him. They stop for a minute or two when Jason struggles to breath, nausea taking over his entire body. Rachel squeaks when he turns to the side and vomits up whatever is left in his stomach, his injuries screaming at him.

“‘M okay.” He mutters, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Help her, the voice murmurs, and how can he help if she’s too worried about him to worry about herself? “I’ve had worse.”

“Stop saying that!” She sniffles, grabs his hand again and tugs them forward. Jason forces his failing body to follow without complaint. Maybe those doctors had a point in keeping him for longer. Oh well.

It’s only when Rachel stops again, eyes wide in fear, does Jason realize something might be wrong.

He can’t really hear anything, over the ringing in his ears. Something green flashes in his peripherals, and he goes dizzy whipping his head around to find it again. Rachel gasps, the only clear thing he can hear. It’s always clear, coming from her. Help her.

“What the fuck…?” He’s hallucinating now, apparently too. The movement he was looking for was a…tiger?

Instinctively, he pushes the younger girl behind him. His bag- he needs to grab a weapon, something to defend them from the green tiger in front of them.

Actually, wait, he’s dealt with mutants before, he should try talking to it first. “Uh, hey?”

The tiger snarls, but doesn’t come closer. Instead, the thing jerks, something cracking, and then disappears into a thicket.

Jason turns back to Rachel, who looks just as baffled as him. He gestures towards his bag. “Do you know how to shoot?”

Rachel shakes her head. Jason frowns. “Remind me to teach you. For now, safety off, point and pull trigger.”

Rachel’s eyes flutter down to his bag. Before she can respond, the thickets move and a head of green hair pops out. “Are you guys alright?”

It’s that kid from before, at the arcade. Gar was his name, Jason thinks. Well, better than a tiger, he guesses.

“No!” Rachel yells. “Jason’s really hurt!”

He tries to mumble out another I’m fine but finds himself unable. Gar climbs out of the brambles, looking between the two of them. “Oh shit-” He mutters when he finally gets a good look at them. “Well, come on!”

He grabs Rachel’s hand, considers something for a moment before grabbing Jason too. Then they’re continuing forward, and Jason focuses solely on putting one foot in front of the other. Help her.

There’s a wooden cabin, an indeterminate distance away. Jason leans back against the wall, taking deep breaths. His head pounds, as does the rest of his body. At least the voice has quieted down.

“He needs help.” Rachel whispers to Gar, near the fireplace. Concern radiates off her.

“We’re almost there.” Gar whispers back. “My friends can help him.”

“I’m fine.” Jason says, much more firmly this time. He’s not going to let kids younger than Tim worry over him. “But seriously Gar, where are you taking us?”

“Someplace safe.” Gar assures, like that means anything to Jason. Places that kids find safe have about a 50% chance of not being safe.

“Nowhere is safe.” Rachel replies. “Not for me. I’m… I’m dangerous.”

Jason goes still, waiting. The voice in his head has quieted down, and now he really wants to know what happened back at the nunnery.

Gar chuckles. “And I’m not?” He questions. “Look, I guess we’re all freaks here - except for your brother.” He pauses, stares at Jason. “...are you?”

“I’m a different kind of monster.” He mutters, looking away for a moment before catching Rachel’s eyes. “Rach, you care. That matters-”

There’s a gunshot. Both kids startle, scrambling to their feet. Jason groans, a little slower. “Extinguish the fire first, you numbskulls.”

He’s the one that tracks down what looks to be hunters, watching as they make their way over to a dying deer. Gar growls at the sight of it. “We have to stop them.”

…what? “Why?”

Rachel, though, seems to be on board. Without a single thought of her own safety she runs out, blocking the hunters from their game. At the same time, something cracks next to him, as if Gar is changing forms again.

Jason suddenly realizes how Bruce must feel, handling a bunch of children.

“Don’t.” He stops the boy. “They’re just going to shoot you!”

He leaves the boy there, marching after Rachel. The hunters are mocking her now, still holding their guns like they might just shoot her. “Hey fellas, what are you doing on our property?”

That gets them to freeze pretty quickly. One whisper hisses, “I told you we got off the reserve!”

“Sorry man.” The other says aloud, as Jason goes to stand next to Rachel. “Our bad - can you let us off easy this time?”

“And why should I?” Jason crosses his arms. “You came onto our property, killed our deer, and harassed my sister. Fuck off before I call the cops.”

One of them grumbled. “Man, fuck you!” But still they went on their way, muttering angrily under their breath. Jason watched them go, waiting until they were far out of sight before turning to Rachel and Gar, who were now crowding the dying doe, murmuring to each other in low tones. Comforting one another over a dead deer.

Is Jason crazy, or was this a lot over a single deer? Is he really that jaded? He looks at the deer and feels nothing, even as Rachel’s crying. He’s killed people before, deer mean nothing. “You’re more human than me.”

They reach whatever home Gar was talking about. Jason’s been running on adrenaline ever since he woke up at the nunnery. He’s pretty sure he’s ripped multiple stitches.

Gar takes them into a pretty neat arcade basement. Jason stands in the middle of it, staring at the flashing lights and bright colors, hearing so many sounds, feeling pain radiate through his body. He is entirely overwhelmed. He doesn’t even hear when Gar tells them to hide, standing in the middle of the basement without moving. 

“Who’s that?!” A new mechanical voice shouts, and Gar starts sputtering through an explanation. Jason’s eyes wander towards the figure, though his vision is blurry. They look like they could be dangerous, anyone could be dangerous to him right now. He should have called Dick, told him where they were. He’s in a lot of pain, Dick could have helped him. He misses him.

He wants his brother.

“Woah-!” The man says, and someone screams his name when he collapses onto the floor.

He swims in and out of consciousness for hours, days, he’s not sure. Sometimes he awakens alone, too deeply entrenched in a dream to pull himself into awareness. Sometimes he feels a hand in his, a worried voice drifting through his ears. Occasionally there is an unfamiliar man, checking his condition. Too often he feels a rumble in his bag, similar to a vibrating phone.

He says he can help me. The voice is back, a soothing whisper in his mind. I don’t think I can be helped.

He wants to respond, wants to tell the voice that it’s alright, that he’s here, but he can’t move. Chains have wrapped around him, keep him deeply anchored in darkness. There’s nothing he can do.

It is for the best, a different voice, one he doesn’t recognize. Your body will heal faster this way, and I do not need you wandering around.

Hmm, sounds suspicious. He already doesn’t like whoever that is.

A hand, holding his once more. He tries to speak, tries to wake, tries to warn her, help her.

It’s not safe, it’s not safe.

You are… different. The man’s voice again. What it is, I cannot tell - but you are not fully alive, are you?

He’d laugh if he could. Whatever was happening, whoever this was, he wouldn’t be able to keep this going for much longer.

The rumble in his bag had stopped. That means his brother was near.

…he’s being held. He’s being held by a beautiful woman. “...there are worse ways to wake up.”

Kori snorts, setting him on a bed. “Welcome back to the world of the living.”

“Jason!”

Rachel jumps him, and he’s not sure what surprises him more - her enthusiasm or the fact that it doesn’t hurt. “Woah, hey Rach! What’s the excitement about?”

Rachel pulls away with a wide smile. “Just… happy to see you awake.”

She backs up, standing next to Gar. Jason looks around. Motel room, okay, why is Gar here? “Did we pick up a stray?”

“Hey!” Gar grins. “We’re all strays here, and you two aren't even siblings!”

So someone told him, which probably meant he was here to stay. Also- “Yeah yeah, anyways, what happened while I was out?”

The mood sours at that. Jason then gets the low down of it all. Chemically induced medical coma, some doctor wouldn’t let him wake up, tried to experiment on Rachel again, Dick and Kori came to the rescue, they got the fuck up out of there.

“Okay then…” He says at the end of it. “Where’s-”

The motel door opens. Dick does not close the door behind him, marching up to Jason and practically barreling into him, enveloping him in the strongest hug Jason’s had in years. “Woah-”

“You’re giving me gray hairs, Jay.” Dick’s voice is wet, and Jason decides to not make a big deal out of it and hugs him back. He also ignores how his brother trembles, because he’s a good sibling.

“You dickhead, I’m fine.” As he’s been saying for the last few… days? “But now you know how it feels when your brother goes awol.”

“Don’t you dare get started with that.” Dick pulls away to look him in the eyes. “You’re the worst offender.”

He hears Gar whisper to Rachel. “Are they actually brothers?” To which Rachel confirms. He ignores that, because then Dick grimaces.

“Karma bites fast.” Dick says. “Tim apparently tried to call you, and when you didn’t answer he called me.”

“Your little brother is… very angry.” Kori adds in. “He’s on his way.”

Oh shit. During exams too? Tim must be livid.

Chapter Text

They're having a… team meeting.

That's not what they call it, of course, but that's what it is. Jason's level with the floor, leaning back against the worn walls of a motel room, glaring at Gar, who is trying to entice him to eat a slice of pizza as the others talk. It's an important talk too, something something bad guys something something alliance something something they need to work well together.

“And for God's sake-” Dick turns to him. “Eat a slice of pizza, Jay.”

He wrinkles his nose, the thought of it making him queasy. “I'm good.”

“I will shove it down your throat.” Dick takes the slice from Gar and kneels next to him. “You haven't eaten in days, how are you supposed to recover otherwise?”

“Also, question.” Kori stares at the two of them, eyes going narrow. “Why'd you bring little brother with you? He also a cop?”

“A concerned citizen.” Jason says, finally nibbling at the pizza. Immediately his stomach flips a switch and he's suddenly ravenous. 

“A badass one.” Rachel adds in helpfully. “He's like a vigilante.”

Jason snorts, glances at Dick in a do you want me to tell them or you kind of way. Dick rolls his eyes, which isn't really an answer. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to reveal their secret to strangers, but said strangers all have powers and would probably not be happy to learn the truth was hidden from them in the future.

“Don't over inflate his ego.” Dick hands him the pizza slice and stands, wiping his hands on his pants. “I'll scout for a place to train nearby.”

The others nod, and Dick disappears out the door. 

Awkward silence ensues.

“So…” Gar breaks it up. “We all have powers here?”

“Not Jason.” Rachel explains. “He's normal.”

Jason shrugs. “I once came back to life.”

Kori frowns. Gar looks intrigued. “Really? Did the doctors use that electric thing?”

“Ha, no. An assassin soaked my coffin with magical revival water.”

“...oh.” Gar is suddenly much less intrigued. “...are you joking?”

“Nope.”

Never let it be said that Jason thought himself a good conversationalist.

So instead he goes to the tried and true method of playing an action movie to cut into the quiet. Anyone with siblings knows the best way to handle them is to distract them with flashing lights and cool action scenes.

They're halfway through when Dick gets back and drags them to a random shed/warehouse thing he found. They spent the next while having a power show-and-tell, which Jason watched perched on top of one of the hay bales, legs dangling.

(He's still on medical time out.)

“And what about you, Dick?” Kori questions once the show-and-tell is over. “What do you have?”

“I… can keep you all safe.” Dick says, mighty vague. Jason snorts.

Kori takes that as a denial. “Seems your brother doesn't agree.”

“Actually, I do.” Jason cuts in. “If I had to fight any of you to the death, the last person I'd pick would be Dickiebird.”

Rachel blinks. “Really? Over… over me?”

Jason raises his fingers, pointing two out with his thumb up, mimicking a gun aimed straight at Rachel's head. “Two bullets right into the skull and you're dead. Dick, on the other hand-”

“He's impervious to bullets?” Kori doesn't seem to believe it. Jason laughs, digging into his bag for one of his guns. When he brings it out, there's a slight intake of breath as he switches the rounds. 

Dick groans. “Don't, Jay, you're still hurt-”

He can't finish the sentence, as Jason loads the clip, flicks off the safety, and then aims straight for Dick’s head and fires.

There's a scream. Gar pulls Rachel away. Kori jumps back. Jason lowers himself to the ground, stretching as he does so. Injured or not, he fired the first shot, and with how wired Dick is, there's no way he won't take the bait.

Exactly as he thought, Dick drops to the ground the moment Jason turned his gun to him, ducking under the shot and lunging. Jason fires another just as Dick snakes to the side, out of the way, and then they are sparring.

It's been a while since they've done this. The adrenaline rush is invigorating. They're still a well oiled machine as well, ducking under blows and delivering their own, fluid and near graceful as they try to one up one another. Jason's gun gets thrown away, and he makes a clumsy dive for it, feeling a dull ache under the rush. Gun back in hand, he lifts it and points again at Dick’s chest, heaving. “Got you.”

Dick is breathing heavily, gun pointed to his chest. His lips twitch. “I went easy on you.”

He knows. 

Dick helps him stand, and Jason turns to the others, looking over their wide eyes, gobsmacked faces. Not surprising, it's a sight to behold, watching vigilantes fight. “The rounds were nonlethal.”

Gar breaks the silence first. “Are you actually a superhero?”

Jason shakes his head, shrugs, and then decides eh why not? “People in Gotham wouldn't call me a superhero, but it's something similar.”

Dick immediately elbows him in the side. “Jay!”

They take learning that he's Red Hood very well. Mostly because they don't know who that is.

(It's not a well known name outside of Gotham, is it?)

Only Kori was smart enough to grab herself a phone, and she spends the car ride back looking articles of him up. Her nose wrinkles at what she sees. “How old are you?”

Jason blinks. “19.”

Her expression turns angry. “You've been a criminal lynchpin since you were 15?”

Both Gar and Rachel jump at that. “Woah, really?” 

Rachel turns to Dick. “Did you know?”

Dick's expression goes dark. “Not at the beginning.”

“He didn't know I was alive.” Jason says, helpfully unhelpful. “I kinda did my own thing for a while.”

No one responds to that, because no one knows what to say. So Jason continues and changes the topic. “Anyways, that's nothing compared to what Dick’s hiding.”

His brother's eye twitches. Rachel perks up. “What's in that briefcase you carry around?”

“Nothing you need to be concerned with, Rachel.”

“Nor do you.” Jason cuts in. “Cause I broke the locking mechanism.”

Dick nearly slams on the breaks. “You what?”

Jason feels pretty proud of himself. “That thing ain't opening any time soon.”

Dick turns to glare at him. “Jason Todd.”

He sticks out his tongue. “Oh boo hoo, seems you'll just have to use the other briefcase you've been avoiding like the plague.”

Dick groans, pressing his head against the wheel before turning into the motel. Jason grins, even as the others look on confused.

“Crazy that this prophecy is just springing up everywhere, all of a sudden.”

Jason’s leaning against the door of Rachel's room, looking at Kori and Dick, who lean against the motel’s railing. They had just spent the last half hour bringing Jason up to date on everything they'd found while split up.

“Gotham's got its own crazies.” Dick shrugs. “There's no room for cultists to sneak in.”

“This place sounds terrible.” Kori says simply, to which they both snort. “Does that have anything to do with what you're hiding?”

She's looking at Dick, expectant. Dick frowns. “It's nothing.”

Kori turns to Jason, who holds his hands up. “Don't put me in the middle of this.”

With a sigh, she backs off, turning back to look at the kids. “I'm afraid of what will happen, if they catch up to us.”

“That's why we have to train them.” Dick says, certain and urgent about it. “I don't want them to… to lose their innocence, but they're not safe.”

“You sound like Bruce.” Jason says flatly, ignoring the replying flinch. “Those two literally cried over a Bambi a few days ago. We can train them without destroying their worldview.”

“They're too naive.” Dick protests. “Training means nothing if they're too gullible to use it.”

“Rachel can read emotions, Dickhead.” He reminds him. “Don't be a jackass, it's a terrible first impression.”

Dick’s nostrils flare. “And what help have you been?” He asks, going for the throat in a way that makes Jason grin, baring his teeth. “All you've done is struggle to keep your own organs in!”

“Dick!” Kori snaps, aghast. Jason laughs.

“Given how I've kept you from being a dumbass multiple times over, kept Rachel sane when you were too busy in your own head to notice, and fucking saved Dawn's life, I'm starting to wonder if someone may be projecting their worthlessness, hm?”

Dick seethes. “I never wanted you here.” He says. “I never-”

And he stops himself, and Jason's suddenly certain he knows what Dick was going to say. “Never what, Dick? Never want to be around me? Can't even say it, huh? Couldn't cross that line?”

Dick glares. He crosses his arms, mumbles. “Course not.”

Jason laughs, pretends to not hear it crack, sniffles a bit and hides his watery eyes. “Yeah yeah, Dickhead. See you tomorrow.”

He leaves before Dick can stop him, ignoring his meek call to come back. Once in his own room, he squeezes his eyes shut to stop the tears and sighs, muttering to himself about emotional lows. That pit really fucked him up, huh? Dick didn't even say it, and yet-

He inhales sharply, catching a sob, and decides to go to sleep.

…Jason's room is next to Dick’s.

Normally, that wouldn't be a problem. But the motel has thin walls and his brother is the hearthrob of Gotham for a fucking reason.

He blasts music because the only other option is shooting his gun right next to his ears until he becomes deaf. That works well, and he waits for the muffled sounds to stop.

They don't stop. Instead, they get louder. Heavier. Aggressive. Jason's about to lose his goddamn mind, knowing way too much about his brother's sex life, when he hears three grunts in quick succession and thinks oh fuck.

He grabs his bag, pulls out his gun, and runs over.

It's that woman again, that deranged super powered mother. She's got a new fling with her though. “Oh my, are you having an affair?”

The lady turns to look at him, which lets Dick whack her in the back of the head with his (unfaulty) briefcase. “No! You are still benched!”

“Come on!” Jason ducks under the man’s fast swing, feels his body protest but not scream at him. “I feel good as new!”

Together, it'd normal be no challenge. Given how neither were in their suits nor had weapons (besides his gun), this fight was a little less one sided.

Jason realizes that he's not going to land a hit any time soon, instead focused on keeping the guy’s attention until Dick can finish off the lady. That works well enough until the lady throws Dick into him, knocking him off balance. Jason falls to the floor with a grunt, rolling to stand.

In that time, the man shoves Dick out of the window.

They're on the second story of the motel.

Jason's heart leaps into his throat. “Dick!”

There's a hard crunch sound, grating in his ears. Dawn’s near fatal fall flashes in his mind. Jason blinks. His vision goes red.

He raises his gun, fires six times. The man and woman fall to the ground, bullets lodged in their legs and hips. Superhuman or not, it'll be hard for them to run.

Temporarily dealt with, he runs out to the motel balcony, looking below for his brother. He doesn't see him.

“Jason!”

His eyes snap over to Rachel, who's farther down the motel with Gar. The crack of glass behind him reminds him that he's not alone, and he has just enough time to turn and block a hard punch to his gut. The force of it topples him over the railing, which he allows.

(It's the fastest way down.)

He lands in a crouch, the height easy to fall from. Then he sprints towards the kids. “Did you see Dick?”

“No.” Rachel's eyes are wide. Jason sees Kori run from the bottom floor towards them. “Where is he?”

“He was just flying off the second floor.” He feels a sense of calm wash over him, as he takes in the situation, devises a plan. “Kori, light them up - Rachel, if you can control your power use it. Gar, hold back unless it's really dire.”

The family starts making their way over. Jason drops his bag, digs through for another gun and a new clip. Kori gasps. “I… I can't-”

That doesn't sound good. Jason looks up to find her very much not powered up. “Fucking- new plan.”

Just as he starts shooting, a smoke bomb shrouds the area in smog. And, for once, Jason won't try and deny the safety he feels when he sees his first flash of blue and black.

They win. It's laughably easy.

They split the family up, and Jason stays with the kids to watch the kids. He looks between the two, probably Rachel's age, and feels a sense of pity. They've obviously been brainwashed. “Hey, how long have you been a part of this family?”

They, of course, don't answer. Instead the boy turns to Rachel. “Come back with us.” He says, pleading. “Or else we'll all be in trouble.”

Ah, definitely victims. Jason digs into his bag of goodies, pulls out a device he rarely uses and starts scanning them.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Gar asks. 

Jason waits until the device dings twice, once on each kid’s head. “They're brainwashed, and it looks like they've got… tiny bombs in their heads. They won't answer any of our questions.”

“Of course.” The girl says. “So you should just come with us.”

“Mhm.” He hums, setting the device onto a different mode and handing it to Gar. “Keep this near them until it beeps again. Hey kids?”

The two look at him, eerily calm smiles still in place.

He crouches between the two of them. “If there's any part of the real you still inside, I'm sorry. I can't deprogram you, but I can deactivate your bomb. But for now-” Jason stands, a gun in hand. “-I’m going to go kill your ‘dad’.”

Rachel makes a startled noise as Jason marches out of the room and towards where Dick and Kori are with the adults. He doesn't wait when he enters the room, only seeing Kori as he steps in front of the man, leaning down to press the barrel of his gun against his temple and say. “It might not be your fault, but I can't bring myself to care.”

He pulls the trigger. The man’s head explodes.

Kori shrieks, a short gasping thing that she quickly swallows. Blood and brain matter cover the area around the corpse. The woman does not look traumatized in the slightest. She's only frowning slightly. “Oh dear.”

“Hurt my brother again.” Jason pockets the gun. “And it'll be you next, brainwashed or not.”

He makes his way out of the motel room and off to find his brother.

Dick doesn't comment on the blood staining his shirt. “I think I can track where they came from.”

“Good.” Jason could use a better workout. “Let me grab my gear - and don't try and dissuade me, it's a waste of time.”

“...I wouldn't.” Dick suddenly looks solemn. “I… you know I want you around, Jay.”

Jason doesn't want to talk about it. “Those kids had bombs in their heads. Tim's device should disable it, but we should figure something out for them too. Some deprogramming thing.”

“I can try to help.” 

They both turn to find Rachel there, looking ernest. “I can see into people's minds, maybe I can help them.”

“Don't push yourself.” Dick says, sounding like the man he remembers. “They may be beyond our help.”

“I still want to try.” Rachel says, determined. Then, she smiles. “So… Nightwing and… Red Hood?”

“Oh yeah!” Gar comes running forward, excited. “You're a whole superhero family! Is your brother Robin? Do you know Batman?”

Rachel purses her lips. Jason has a feeling she's already connected the dots. “Of course they know Batman.”

“Awesome!”

As they talk, Jason runs back inside to get his bag, confirming that the device has finished working before storing it away. Then, he turns to the two kids. “The bomb is your head is disabled. I recommend you don't tell anyone, not even your mother.”

The kids continue to smile. They don't say anything, probably because what they want to ask isn't within the boundaries of their programming.

Jason sighs. “If you're able to get some clarity, so you're able to escape, head to Gotham. Ask for Oracle, alright?” And he gives them the address for an old safehouse that has nothing of use besides a phone that, if he remembers correctly, has Barbara's number. Even if they raided the place, he'd lose nothing of real value.

At the same time, if these kids escaped, they'd at least have somewhere safe to hide.

The kids only stare at him. He's sure they should be preaching their loyalty right now. They don't.

“I'll look into some deprogramming methods, but I doubt I'll find anything anytime soon. So, it's up to you. And remember… nothing is stronger than the will to live. And if it isn't for you, make it.”

He leaves the kids to their silence, and joins Dick in the car. They head off.

Of course, nothing is ever easy.

Jason tests his brother's current mental state by shooting the old lady who's pruning the greenery. Dick gives him a disappointed look, which is a good thing, but doesn't actually comment, which is bad. Like it wasn't very weird that some random lady was in the building of an apartment with only one renter.

Then they reach the guy himself, who says literally nothing besides the fact that people are coming to kill them now. Which, not fucking helpful.

“You make him talk.” Jason digs out his hood and finally puts the thing on. “I'll give you some time.”

“Oh.” The man says, surprised for once. Jason’ll have to kill him, later.

As the man said, a minute later men are streaming through the door with guns. Jason makes them scatter by shooting three of them, and then he makes several more empty their clips into the (surprisingly) bullet proof walls. That's when he runs out of ammo and the guys start to overrun him. He hears a few shots but still hears Dick so he's not too worried. Yet.

A gun handle slams into his face. He stumbles back, is kicked into the kitchen, and now his body is screaming at him again, great. 

Another shot, a bullet pinging off his hood. He kicks out, a man falling on him. He grabs their gun and shoots them thrice in the chest, spreads another’s brain matter across the floor. He sees another come towards him, only to get impaled by a kitchen knife.

(Geez, he still has a lot of work to do. Dick is still stabbing people with kitchen knives. That's pretty fatal-)

Dick grunts in pain, and Jason kicks into overdrive, doing his best to not die and also take out as many as possible in the shortest amount of time. It feels almost never ending. He's drained, his adrenaline failing.

A piercing shriek echoes through the room, the sound of a deeply disturbing crunch of fist meeting jaw tells Jason that someone new has joined the fray.

Friend or foe, though, he doesn't know yet.

He steals a gun and, unlike his trigger disciplined enemies, does not hesitate to spray fire. Three more go down as he moves his hands down the handle and then throws the thing like a makeshift baseball bat, hitting a fourth with a satisfying clunk. Next to him, Dick kicks one in the neck, vicious with it.

Two more bodies fall, away from them. The room goes quiet as it's suddenly just them and one final person. A kid in a suit.

Jason grins. “Hey Replacement.”

Tim looks him over, finds him well enough to lessen his concerns. Then he turns to Dick.

He scowls.

Dick doesn't seem to notice. “You really didn't need to-”

And he's cut off, because Tim marches up to them and socks him right in the face. Dick’s head whips to the side from the force of the punch. His eyes go wide. His jaw drops.

“I have a project due in five hours.” Tim’s voice is a box of barely constrained emotions. “That I had to rush to be here. So someone tell me, what the fuck is going on here.”

Chapter Text

Jason's in a good mood. Something that, if anyone asks, he will deny having to do with the fact that both his brothers are here. 

He doesn't have to say anything or even smile, really. He gives Tim a tight hug and his brother immediately knows something's wrong. “Woah, who died?”

Jason punches him in the shoulder. “Shut up.”

Tim cracks a grin, deep bags under his eyes. Then he turns back to Dick, eyes hardening. “Hey dumbass.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “Seriously Tim-”

Then he stops, because Tim hugged him too. 

The random old guy they came here for is thrown into the back of Dick’s car. Tim, who had taken a Robin cycle, puts it on auto and lets it hide itself until it's needed once more.

Then he gets into the car with the rest of them. “Did police school have you take any forensic analysis classes, Dick?”

“I'm a detective, of course it did.” Dick snorts, pulling the car out of the parking lot. “What's confusing you?”

They spend the entire car ride discussing forensic terms Jason only vaguely knows, because Tim has to apparently solve a case for his final exam at the end of the week and he's a bit nervous. It makes Jason snort. “Out of all things, you're worried about not being able to solve a crime?”

Tim blushes. “The way we do it and the way they do it is different.” He mumbles. “If I do it our way I'm either asking to fail or asking to be found out.”

Dick nods like he understands completely. “I had a lot of close calls too.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “And that's why I stick to crime.”

Tim punches the back of his seat. Jason's vision swims. Oh yes, concussion. “I still want a full explanation of what happened, cause it's bigger than you guys think.”

That was ominous. “What do you mean?”

“I'll show you away from this guy.” Tim shoves a thumb at the unconscious man behind them. “Bruce has a safehouse in Chicago somewhere - we can set up there.”

“Can't.” Dick mumbles. “We don't need Bruce’s help-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jason cuts him off, grabbing Dick’s phone from the car’s cupholder and dialing a number. “I say it's fine, and my grievance with him beats out yours - hey Kori.”

“...hi.” Kori sounds suspicious. “Is Dick alright?”

“Yeah, he's just driving. Need you to head over to Chicago, we're setting up at- hey Tim, where's the-?”

Tim tells him, and Jason tells Kori. “Your brother’s arrived? How'd he find you?”

“It's Tim.” Is all he says. “Also, bring the family, this guy might know how to unbrainwash them.”

“That might be a bit of a problem.” Kori mutters. “The mother's head exploded.”

Oh. “Fucking knew that would happen. And the kids?”

“They're fine - Rachel, Gar, get in the car!” Kori’s voice warbles for a moment. “We'll bring them.”

The call ends. Tim sounds curious. “Who's Kori?”

“Mutant, future sister-in-law, she's pretty cool.” Jason says, mostly teasing, and dodges Dick’s flailing arm. “Next time don't fuck right next to my room, why doncha?”

Tim snorts. Dick groans. They drive towards the safehouse.

It's a nice place. Of course it is, Bruce bought it.

Dick carries the still unconscious man as Tim unlocks the safehouse. They throw him into a makeshift cell and then take a second to collapse on the sofas. “I'm starving.”

Tim’s stomach rumbles it's agreement. Jason's eyes narrowed. “When's the last time you ate, Replacement?”

Tim doesn't answer. Tim forgets to eat during finals very often. Jason orders a pizza.

He gets back right when Kori and the kids arrive, so he helps them bring the son and daughter up, unlocking the safehouse for them. Tim and Dick are still on the couch, but now there's pictures of corpses laying on the table. “That'll definitely get the stomach growling.”

Tim rolls his eyes and looks up. He glances briefly over Kori, Rachel, and Gar, before settling on the son and daughter. “These the brainwashed kids?”

“We're the same age.” The son says, which Tim ignores as Jason nods.

“Interesting…” He murmurs, before turning to the others. “Nice to meet you in person, I'm Tim.”

As they exchange introductions Jason puts the son and daughter in one of the rooms, ensuring they're secure before coming back out. Everyone is still talking, though Tim has taken a slice of pizza. 

Jason turns to the photos. “What's this about?”

Tim glances between him and Dick. “It's a case Batman has been working on.” He says slowly. “He wanted Dick’s thoughts about it.”

“It's the circus.” Rachel says, eyes wide. She looks between the bodies with horrid certainty. “They were all…”

Jason looks at Dick, whose jaw is clenched. He sighs. “We'll figure that out later.” He grabs the photos and turns them over.

“Wait, Dick.” Jason puts a hand out to stop him. “There might not be a later, don't-”

“Don't what?” Dick hisses, anger lacing his voice. “They're all dead, so why does it-”

He pauses for a second, eyes going cloudy. They widen. 

He turns back to the photos, looking hastily through them. “Shit.” He mutters, and then is gone.

“Dick!” Jason says, to no avail. He turns to Tim. “It's your turn.”

Tim rolls his eyes and follows Dick. That then leaves Jason to deal with the questions from Kori and the kids.

Kori crosses her arms. “That's your younger brother?”

“Yep.” He lounges back on the sofa, gestures to it with a wave of his hand. Rachel and Gar immediately take the suggestion and sit down. “I know, we all look nothing alike. Being adopted does do that to you. Bruce Wayne loves his charity cases.”

“Is he also…?” Gar whispers excitingly. “Y'know?”

“No, wait!” Rachel joins in. “Let us guess!”

Jason rolls his eyes. “He's Robin, you dipshits.”

Both of their eyes widen. “No way.” Gar breathes. “Robin, as in the Robin? He's Batman's partner?”

They're nearly giddy about it. Jason glances at Kori, who's smiling fondly at the both of them. “Yes, he's that Robin. Now finish that pizza so we can talk about the gorey stuff.”

He basically babysits the kids as Kori makes rounds between the old man, the son and daughter, and Dick and Tim. He's saved the last slice for Tim, watching Once Upon a Time with the kids when his brothers finally reappear.

“I need to go check up on an old friend.” Dick tells the group, briefcase already in hand. “This place is safe, I'll be back in a bit.”

“Wait a second.” Jason stands, handing the slice to Tim, watching him inhale it. “Someone's going with you.”

“I don't need backup.” Dick huffs. Kori, who stands next to him, whispers something in his ear that makes him deflate. 

“Better to have and not need.” Jason mutters, sitting back down on the couch.

He must have winced or something when he sat down, because Tim is suddenly watching him like a hawk. “Stab wound still hurt?”

Not really, which Tim would know, given his previous experiences with Jason’s pain tolerance and his understanding of the pit increasing his ability to heal just a little bit faster. He rolls his eyes. “I'm fine, just my ribs.”

Tim’s brows furrow. “What happened to your ribs?”

“What do you think, dumbass?” His words have little bite in them, even as Rachel and Gar look taken aback. “You just saw what we've been dealing with.”

That's when Tim’s face darkens. He turns to Dick. “And what injuries are you hiding?”

“I'm fine.” Dick crosses his arms. “Seriously, and besides that-”

“Besides nothing.” Tim cuts him off, turns to look at the other kids. “Just a heads up, but if that idiot-” he points at Jason, “-looks like shit, then Dick will be considerably worse. He uses himself as a human shield half the damn time if it means blocking an attack from hitting us-”

“He's fine Tim.” Jason says, pulling the bandaid off and wincing as he does so. Jason had also recognized this - has yelled at Dick plenty of times for doing it, not that that's ever stopped him. The fact that Dick hasn't been trying to take every single bullet for him (or for the kids, for that matter-) is a good thing in theory but a horrible thing in practice. It meant that his mental state was near suicidal in a different way.

(And, if Jason's really honest with himself, it hurts a little. He doesn't want Dick getting hurt protecting him, but it's nice to see how much his brother cares. Now that it's gone, it's difficult to feel like that's not the case.)

Tim stares at Jason, as if trying to figure out if he's lying. When he decides he hasn't, his expression turns murderous.

The tension in the room skyrockets. Rachel and Gar take instinctive steps back. Jason tenses where he sits. Dick and Kori stare, alert.

Tim turns to Dick, voice low. “I cannot believe you-”

And Tim lunges, yelling like a frenzied animal. Dick has to jump back to avoid a hard punch to the gut. “Tim!”

“You go almost no contact-!” Tim swings again, a single minded rage in his voice. The others look like they want to intervene. Jason holds out a hand to stop them, because that would only make things worse. “You act as if the whole world is against you, and you hurt the people that care about you by leaving!”

“Tim!” Dick tries again, only to get clocked in the face by an errant fist. “I don't want to-”

“Fuck you!” Tim snaps, weeks if not months of anger and stress, pain and hurt finally reaching its breaking point. “How don't you fucking see it, Dick?! Jason wouldn't look like shit if you didn't act like an asshole!”

Dick freezes, shock flooding his features. He doesn't try to dodge Tim’s next punch. That's when Jason finally speaks up. “Tim, stop.”

“No.” He spits, but takes a step back at the same time, heaving. “Because you don't see it either. Dick would have never let you get hurt like this, Jason.”

“Because he would be hurt instead-”

“Because Dick would try and take the hit instead, you would do your absolute fucking best not to ever be in the position for that to happen.” Tim continues, glaring at him now too. “Instead, he's broody and mangling people during fights, and you don't know how to fight with him when he's like that, and that puts you on the backfoot. Then add protecting her-” he gestures to Rachel, “-and here we are.”

It's quiet. Dick is staring at his shoes, despondent. Rachel opens her mouth. “That's not fair…”

“Oh, and you know?” Tim’s voice isn't as harsh, but it's still bitter. “Just because you can see memories doesn't mean you know it all. We've let Dick brood by himself for long enough - it's now a problem that needs to be addressed and fixed.”

Another bout of silence. Jason wants to say something, some kind of defense, but he knew this was inevitable. The only way to get through to Dick was to snap him out of it, if only for a second, so that he could then crawl out himself once he became aware of it. And, sadly, the best way to do that was normally through guilt.

Jason sighs. “You didn't have to beat him up.”

Tim crosses his arms. “You got stabbed, something’s wrong with your ribs, you are obviously nursing a concussion and I know about your hospital stint, which meant it had to have been bad. How much of that wouldn't have happened if Dick was going around as Nightwing instead of fucking up the Robin name?”

What a low blow. Dick flinches. Jason glares. “Watch it.”

“No.” Dick finally says, voice soft. “He's right. Most of your injuries wouldn't have happened if I…”

Rachel bites her lip, like she wants to protest. Tim sighs. “Get ready to go, Dick. Jason's obviously on medical rest, so I'll go with you.”

Dick clenches his jaw. Then he's gone without another word. 

Rachel immediately spins on Tim, anger in her eyes. Jason catches her arm before she can do anything. “Don't, Rach. He needed to hear that. At least some of it.”

“No one should hear any of that!” Gar protests. “Least of all from family!”

“If I didn't say something, it would've taken another year for Jason to finally wittle him down.” Tim states, not at all regretful. “And in that time, anyone around him would be in danger. He's reckless, and it's my job as his brother to call him out on it.”

Rachel clenches her fists. Gar frowns. Kori exhales. “You do know him best.” She says. “And Jason doesn't disagree, so I'll trust you know what you're doing.”

Rachel looks betrayed. She looks between Kori and Jason, only to find that Jason looks stoic, does not speak up in Dick’s defense. “But-”

“Even adults get scolded sometimes, Rachel.” Jason murmurs. “Better us now than someone who doesn't care in the future, taunting him about his failures while he mourns our deaths.”

Gar goes pale. Kori sighs. Rachel wilts. It stays quiet, after that.

Dick leaves with Tim a few minutes later.

“They'll talk it out.” Jason says, because Rachel is glaring at him now. “It's what siblings do, Rach. Yeah it hurts but they'll never not care.”

Rachel, an only child, frowns. “I'd never say something so mean to my brother. Dick didn't deserve that.”

“It's not about what's deserved.” Jason groans. “But if it was, he did. Rachel, he hasn't been the best brother for a while now, and Tim was lashing out because of it. How would you feel if Dick just suddenly disappeared and didn't come back, and when you went and found him he acted like he didn't want you around?”

Rachel's face pales. She looks down at the ground. Gar shifts back and forth. Jason sighs and changes the subject. “So the mother exploded?”

“Yep.” Kori, who was leaning against a wall, confirms. “Head popped - Gar says you disabled the bombs in the kids?”

“Thought it unfair.” Jason says, ignoring how he didn't disable the bomb for the mother, still too angry at her hurting his brother. “They're victims too. Any leeway in deprogramming them, Rach?”

“...no.”

Oh well, to be expected. “We’ll send them to Gotham with Tim, see if Batman has any better luck.”

They pass the time in whatever way possible - Jason by taking a nap in the master bedroom, half keeping an eye on the unconscious guy in the shower. He's not sure how long he's out for, awoken once by Kori to have him administer some sedatives to their captive and a second time by Rachel and Gar in the morning for breakfast. “They're not back yet?”

“They're on their way.” Kori responds, working on breakfast (which Rachel had made, easy scrambled eggs, and the other two had learned from her). He eats and doesn't mention how subpar they are.

“So…” Gar sidles close. “...this is Batman’s secret apartment?”

“One of many.” He mutters. “He has them everywhere.”

“We could've been staying in one of these all along?!” Gar looks betrayed. “Just who is Batman?”

Rachel, who's most likely figured it out, giggles.

Half an hour later and his brothers return, looking quite alright. Well, Tim does. He's dragging Dick by the arm and pushing him onto the couch, looking both angry and pleased. Dick does a cut off groan that spells injury. “Uh oh.”

“This dumbass-” Tim’s pulling a first aid kit from under the couch, which should make Jason laugh. “Just had to prove me wrong. Took a bullet for me.”

Oh. Oh.

Jason… doesn't know how to feel about it. “Seriously?”

Dick rolls his eyes. “The suit caught it.”

“It had acid on it.” Tim continues, pulling out some burn treatment. Dick takes off his shirt, and the non-vigilantes all wince at the gruesome acid burn right over his heart. “Dumbass, stupid fucking-”

“Yes Tim, we know you care.” Jason kneels by his side and takes over. “Now go eat breakfast, you're shaking.”

Tim looks seconds away from collapsing. “Can't, need to go back to Gotham - have a final at 2.”

Jason's eyes bug. “And you came here anyway?”

“You weren't answering your phone!”

Rachel leans over to Gar. “I guess this is what siblings do.”

Chapter Text

Jason's the one that sees Tim off. He escorts the son and daughter to a nearly empty parking lot, breaks into an old van, and helps them get settled inside. As settled as one can be, still restrained.

“I wish you guys the best.” He says at the end of it. “In getting deprogrammed, and in living a normal life.”

The kids just blink at him. “Nothing is wrong with us.” The son says.

He doesn't even sound like he believes it himself, anymore.

Jason only sighs, making sure they're properly secured before closing the door. Then he turns to Tim. “Stay alert with those two. They're stronger than they look.”

Tim was checking his phone, probably trying to figure out how much time he had left to make it to his final. “‘Course. And keep at it with wonder boy, he's definitely cracking.”

“Well duh.” Jason grins. “Even while brooding, he's adopted two kids that need his help. Have faith.”

Tim laughs. “Funny, coming from you.” He punches his shoulder and climbs into the car. Jason watched them drive off.

His phone rings. “Hello?”

“We have a problem.” Dick says, urgent. “Rachel and Gar ran off-”

Jason cuts him off, voice rising. “You lost your kids?!”

“My kids?!” Dick nearly yells back. “Y'know what, it doesn't matter! Meet us there!”

He gets a location and then the call ends. Jason stares at his phone, standing in an empty parking lot, snow falling softly around him. “Mother-”

He heads back to the safehouse and grabs his gear, for the first time since this entire clusterfuck started actually putting everything on. He doesn't care to be discreet anymore, if Rachel and Gar ran off it means nothing good.

It takes longer than he'd like to get there, using Tim’s cycle that he left behind. He's maybe five minutes away when he calls Dick again.

No answer.

He frowns. “Fucking hell, Dickwad, you have the worst-”

Kori doesn't answer either.

Irritation immediately turns into dread. He tries calling Dick, one more time.

No answer. No answer.

He leaves for two hours and-

He pulls the cycle over, leaving it to get buried under snow on the side of the road, autopilot on but dormant. No need to give himself away with whatever's currently happening inside.

Jason shifts from foot to foot, judging how far he's have to go. His boots crunch in the snow. His injuries barely sting. Two guns, barrels cold yet burning against his side, beg to be used.

He missed being in costume. He didn't want to scare the kids anymore than he already does, but he knows when backup is needed and this is most certainly one of those times.

The address he was given looks run down with at least three failed safety inspections. Jason studies the chain linked fence and notices, on the road, Dick’s car.

Well, this can't be good. He'd text Tim and tell him how quickly everything became fucked up after he left, but he's sure the teen is still in exams.

It's only when he's gotten closer does he realize how… quiet, it is.

Too quiet.

There's no sounds of fighting, no sounds of even people. Like the place is abandoned. Jason's worried for a moment that Dick and the others have already chased them someplace else.

Then another idea takes hold. What are the chances they've been captured? 

Low, if he's had to guess. Kori can cremate someone and Dick is Nightwing, he feels like there's very little that could get them outside of an ambush-

Wait. They came here looking for the kids. Jason forgot about that.

Hostages. Hostages. Jason growls, feeling the dread curl into anger. Neither answered their phones. The building’s too quiet. Everything feels wrong.

He's meticulous, entering the building. As a gift (he stole it) from the Flash last year he got some tech from Star Labs that can turn his costume pitch black. That along with the video looping device he nabbed from Tim let him sneak around whatever the fuck this place was with relative ease. Still, after fifteen minutes of finding nothing, Jason was starting to get really worried.

“...no change to controlled voltage…”

He pauses, listening for the whispered words and then creeping his way over. Down the hall two scientists are chatting their hearts out. One, a man, grins at the woman who first spoke. “Well I could have told you that - you know kids, they either fold immediately or are as stubborn as mules.”

Kids. Either Rachel or Gar, unless they make a habit of kidnapping-

Alright, calm down Jason, no need to get even more angry.

“Garcia’s confident in their abilities.” The woman says, voice flat. “I'm sure he'll just up the voltage until there's a forced shift.”

“Or until it kills him-”

Jason steps out of the shadows, into clear view. He smiles, hidden behind his hood. “Hey gents.” His voice is far too pleasant. “Mind giving me directions?”

The two scientists immediately freeze, because Jason has two guns pointed at them. “W-what-”

Jason decides that their voices are grating on his ears. “Nevermind.”

Two muffled bangs. Two bodies falling to the floor. Jason walks around them, boots stepping through blood. He'll just keep going forward, they wouldn't be talking about Gar if he wasn't-

Bingo.

Through a set of stairs and into a dank concrete hallway, he hears the sound of pained grunts and picks up his pace.

Then, he turns a corner. Sees everything. For a moment, feels nothing.

Then, it snaps.

Anger. Hot, livid anger. He's shaking with it. It's all he can feel, tunnels his vision into what he sees in front of him.

They have Gar strung up by his hands, stripped nude and locked in a cage like an animal. Just as Jason's turned the corner and locked eyes with them, he sees one of them press a long rod into his back.

Gar seizes. It's a cattle prod. It's a fucking cattle prod.

He sees red. No, he sees green.

Three people in the room, three people besides Gar. He raises his gun and shoots twice, the two observing in the back falling to the ground with holes in their heads. The last man jerks back, immediately terrified. “W-what-”

Jason runs at him, leaving him too shocked to dare try and use Gar as a hostage. The man only has enough time to pull out the cattle prod and jab it at Jason. 

Electricity courses through his veins, hot and sharp. Jason grunts, holds the neck of the prod with one hand.

He twists his wrist. The rod snaps in half.

The man stumbles back, falling on his ass. Jason grabs him by the neck. “You piece of scum.”

He punches him, watches the man’s face snap back, blood flying from his nose. He does it again. And again.

And again.

And again.

“J-jason…”

And he stops, Gar’s voice raspy and strained from screaming. The man below him is a bloody mess, shaking and shivering.

Jason takes a deep breath. It does nothing to calm him. “Where's the key?”

The man doesn't hesitate to hand it over. Jason takes it and shoots him in the head, point blank, giving him just enough time to feel fear before pulling the trigger.

And then he's moving, unlocking the cage and uncuffing Gar’s hands. He helps him down gently, and Gar collapses into him, weak and shaking. “Gar, Gar, where are you hurt?”

He's not looking, because Gar has curled up, both into himself and into Jason. It would be easy, he has an eye trained to find injuries, but he'll just wait, hear Gar talk again-

“I'm… alright.” He whispers. “Just, just shocked.”

He stays curled up, head pressed against Jason's chest. Jason tries to shield him from the world, or from any cameras. Give him some time to recover.

His clothes are thrown haphazardly into a corner of the cage. Jason reaches back to grab them, gently places them in Gar’s hands. He doesn't want to rush him, but the others-

Gar seems to jerk the moment he feels them. He’s shaky as he puts them on, not bothering with his socks or shoes, shivering with his arms curled around himself in a self hug. He looks so very pitiful, and Jason’s vision is still so very green.

Gar is fifteen, he thinks. The age Jason was when he died. When he died alone on the concrete floor, beaten and humiliated. This felt too similar. “Gar?”

Gar takes a second to look at him, seems surprised when Jason opens his arms, inviting a hug. Then he's falling into him, and they don't have time for this, but Jason doesn't actually care at the moment.

Finding Kori is, thankfully, much easier.

He dispatches one of the scientists about to cut into her body without a second thought, letting Gar work on freeing her before turning to the other scientist. That one takes a look at his outfit and does something unexpected.

“Ah.” They smile. “You are the Red Hood - is it true that the man is Nightwing?”

And, to be quite frank, everyone and their mothers would probably tell the guy how stupid of a thing to say that was, to Red Hood of all people. Taunting him? They must have a death wish.

He vaults over the tiny table separating them and slams the scientist into the wall. “You got a lot of ego for someone so weak.”

The scientist smirks, as if they weren't at Jason's mercy. “We took down Nightwing, didn't we? How is that weak?”

Something in him snaps. Or, maybe not snaps. It has already snapped - it'd be more accurate to say that the last of his conscience, at that moment, fizzled up and died.

“Where is he?” Jason snarls, holding the scientist by the neck, fingers digging into their jugular. “Where is he?!”

The scientist chokes, fingers clawing at his own. He pulls his arm forward, pushes it back until the scientist slams into the wall.

“Nightwing.” He tries one last time. “Where is he?”

The scientist wheezed. And then they laughed. “Just kill me.” Their voice is strained. “And run around in circles-”

Jason's free hand grabbed their wrist and snapped. The scientist screamed in pain. It sounds vaguely like his name.

“Jason!”

He blinks, expression hidden beneath his hood. Jason turns, only to find Rachel standing there, free and unharmed, an unknown woman with her. Kori has been released too. “What?”

Rachel's looking at him with wide, terrified eyes. So is Gar. He can't bring himself to care. “I k-know where Dick is.”

He stares at her, trying to judge if she's lying. If she, for some reason, was trying to keep him from finding his brother.

Rachel has no reason to do that.

And he has no use for the scientist anymore.

Jason grabs a scalpel from the dirty tray, still wet with Kori’s blood, and stabs it up, through the soft palate of the scientist’s jaw, through their mouth and into their brain.

The scientist slides to the ground, blood squirting onto his costume. Jason pays it no mind, only barely reminding himself that these people didn't deserve his anger. He's not used to working with people that aren't his family. “...where?”

“T-this way!” Rachel stammers, sticking close to the random woman. “He’s… he’s tied up, in a padded room-”

Jason marches forward, reloading his gun. Rachel's voice fades away, no longer important. She's safe, his brother is not.

It doesn't take long, to find him. He's locked in a room with a door that is far too weak for Jason’s strength. It takes only a moment to kick it down, and then Jason is kneeling by Dick’s side, staring into dull, unseeing eyes. “Dick! Hey, Dick, Dick, come on, snap out of it-”

“He's been drugged-” Gar starts, only for Jason to snap back, “I fucking know!”

“They might have broken him.” The random woman comments idly. “This place does that.”

Jason snarls at her. “Say another word and I shoot you in the head.” Then he turns back to Dick, pulling off his hood to look his brother in the eyes. “Come on, Dickiebird, Scarecrow's got whatever this is beat-”

Nothing. As if there was nothing behind his eyes. Jason's never been so scared. “Please don't make me pull out the big guns.”

Rachel's kneeling on Dick’s other side, determined as she releases his restraints. The others are solemn. They don't understand, they don't realize that drugged or not, Dick’s always come through it. He knows his brother, believes in him, and-

No response. Jason's heart twists. It hurts.

“Alright.” He whispers. “You made me do it.”

It's pathetically easy, to start crying.

The effect is instantaneous.

A hand reaches up to grasp the back of his neck. Someone exhales rather harshly as he's pulled into a hug. “Awe, Jaybird, what’s-”

And then Dick omphs because Jason hugs him with the ferocity of a bear. “I swear to fucking God Dick-”

Dick, still drugged and probably confused, mumbles something like, “Are you okay?” before resuming his hug. Then, louder, he says, “Is everyone alright?”

“Yeah.” Rachel says.

“Mostly.” Gar looks down at the ground. Kori doesn't respond.

“This is why you always take backup.” Jason pulls back, taking Dick with him. Dick wobbles as he stands, face turning a sickly green moments before he turns and throws up behind his chair. “Geezus, what'd they got in you this time?”

Dick retches. “Something strong.” He mutters, coughs. “Wanna… get a’ sample ovit.”

“Yeah, no. We're leaving.” He gestures towards the door. “And who the fuck are you?”

“She's my mother.” Rachel says quickly, because now that Jason can safely see Dick he can turn to other matters. “My biological mother.”

Huh, okay. He puts his hood back on. “Let's go.”

Jason takes them back the way he came, dispatching those they came across with bullets between the eyes. It's only after he runs out that he has to start improvising.

“Children.” He says, pulling a pipe from the wall. “Look away.”

The first two assailants came close, electric batons in hand. Jason swung, crushing the skull of the first one with one hit. He elbowed the second, ducking under the baton and jabbing his pipe into the guy's gut, upper cutting him right after.

Electricity courses through his veins. He cuts off a scream with a grunt, headbutting a third assailant, who had come from the farther group. Then there's another pipe bashing the dude’s head in and Dick is at his side, face stoic.

Jason blinks. He glances back at the others.

“Children.” He says again, voice deadly serious. Rachel and Gar look at him, eyes wide. “Look away.”

It's a bloodbath.

Dick is aiming to kill, with the force and ferocity he's putting into each hit. Jason puts all his efforts into stealing each killing blow, unwilling to let his brother's conscience get tainted with blood. 

The hallway gets messy because of it, gore and fluids squishing beneath them as they work as a deadly pair. It only ends when Dick sweeps a guy’s leg out from under them and Jason rams his pipe through the guy's eye socket.

Then, they are alone. 

Jason takes a step back, taking in their carnage. Dick is still staring at the last guy they killed, panting heavily.

“Come on.” His voice is heavy. He feels the others moving past them, but doesn't really see them. In fact, his vision’s kind of gone.

Then there is a hand on his shoulder. He blinks, able to see once more. Kori stands in front of him. “Go watch the kids.”

Jason takes one last, assessing look at his brother before going. Dick is safe, or at least he's safe now, and with that he's finally coming back to his senses.

He finds the kids with Rachel's mother right as the building explodes. The others jump, but Jason's too detached to really notice. “Are you alright, Rachel? Did anything happen to you?”

“No.” She shakes her head. Jason can't tell if she's lying. “I'm… I'm fine.”

She leans towards and away from her mother, unsure. Jason wants to help her, doesn't know how. At the same time, Gar stands bruised and battered next to her, obviously worse for wear and probably traumatized.

So he turns to him instead. “Hey Gar.” His voice is low. He removes his helmet. “Anything hurt more than the normal cuts and bruises?”

“I'm fine.” Gar echoes Rachel, but with nowhere near the surety. In fact, he looks like he might run at any second. His eyes follow Kori, who walks out from the fire. “Is… will Dick…”

Even while brooding Dick manages to be everyone's favorite. “He'll bounce back. It's a specialty of his - he's like a cockroach.”

Gar’s smile doesn't reach his eyes. Jason bites the bullet and pulls him into a side hug, unsurprised when Gar turns it into a full hug and starts to shake.

Everyone is sluggish, getting into the car.

Jason's already remote activated Tim’s cycle, helping the rest get inside while waiting. Dick is fading in and out of awareness, the adrenaline wearing off and the drugs seemingly kicking back in. Jason's already given him a shot of what Bruce calls a universal drug solvent, so hopefully he'll be semi normal by the time they get back to the safehouse. He's just made sure the three in the back are good when Tim’s cycle arrives.

Kori squints at it. “Are you sure you should drive that? It's snowing.”

Jason shrugged, putting back on the hood and pulling a leg over the seat. “I've done stupider things. Call me if Dick gets worse.” It would be their luck that he's allergic to the solvent or something equally as annoying.

Then they're driving, and it's a long thing, too long, and he's more anxious waiting to see them all again than even rescuing them.

Luckily, or unluckily, Tim calls right when he arrives, a few minutes before the others. “What's up?”

“Barbara might be able to deprogram them.” Tim says, not waiting a second. “It'll take a while- what's wrong?”

He thought his tone was pretty neutral, all things considered. “It's been a long day.”

“Hm.” Tim doesn't sound convinced. “I have three days till my next exam-”

“Don't.” Jason says, because it's not an offer of help, it's a warning. “Okay, alright. While I was with you the others managed to get themselves experimented on. Dick's been drugged with something heavy, probably Scarecrow related. It's not good.”

“Oh.” Tim pauses. “Everyone's okay now though, right?”

“As well as a traumatized person can be.”

“And you?”

Jason scoffs. “I was the rescuer, Drake.”

“I was the rescuer, Drake.” Tim mocks. “And I know you, Todd. Tell me, percentage of enemies you killed tonight?”

Jason frowns. “...95.”

“Up by about 70, alright.” Tim sounds analytical. “And how about your control? Given how you said they were all experimented on but you only mentioned Dick I'm guessing you had none.”

He scowls this time, hearing the others coming up to the safehouse. “That's not-”

“Jason, I've never seen someone hyperfixate as much as you do when Dick is in trouble.” Tim sounds almost amused by it. “You'd probably kill me without a second thought if I got in the way.”

Jason snorts here, knowing that, while Tim might not believe it, he'd act the same way with him too. “Sure, fine, I got a little tunnel visioned. It's fine now-”

“You haven't eaten since breakfast.” Tim almost sings, calling him out. “It's 3am~”

“Damnit Tim-”

“Jay?”

Dick rounds the corner, the others shuffling in after him. He looks pale and weak, sweat collecting at his brow like he was going through withdrawal. Which he might be. “You look like shit.”

“Speaker.” Tim demands, which Jason does without a fight. “Dick, tell me what's going on. What do you see?”

They set up in one of the bedrooms and pry information out of Dick on whatever drugs they've shot him up with. After coming to the conclusion that the solvent he's already taken is the best course of action and the only thing that's left is to ride it out, Jason forces Dick to lay down on the bed and puts the phone off speaker. “He's resting now.”

Dick mumbles something. Tim sighs. “You both are hopeless.”

“You're the one who sent me out here.” He grumbles. “Now, go sleep.”

“Go eat.”

“Fuck you.”

“Love you too.”

The call ends. Jason sighs, happy to have the lights off, already fighting a headache.

There's a knock on the door. “Come in.”

The door tentatively opens. Gar peaks his head in. “Um…”

Jason beckons him inside, unsurprised. Gar is still skittish. There's blood on his clothes and skin, left there from being in contact with Jason. It makes him wince, looking at it. “Uh, Rachel is with her mom, and Kori’s gotten a bottle, and uh…”

His eyes shift between the quiet bed and Jason. His entire body seemed to scream for comfort and security. Just a few hours ago, he was being tortured and humiliated. Of course he doesn't want to be alone.

Jason sighs, gesturing to the attached small bathroom. “Go wash up. There should be some pajamas somewhere in there.” Bruce keeps the entire place stocked.

Gar hurries away. Jason starts pulling off his armor, content with what he was wearing underneath. He's too exhausted to actually get ready for bed, he'll just crash on the couch.

Dick murmurs something. A hand curls around his wrist. “Yeah, Wing?”

“...my parents would hate to see me now.”

It hits him like a wrecking ball. He doesn't know what to say.

Dick sits up with a bit of struggle, hand coming up to brush a thumb under Jason's eye. His voice is slurred when he speaks. “Please don't cry, Jay. I hate seeing you cry.”

This one, he could answer. “You were catatonic, Dick, I didn't know what to do.”

Dick blinks slowly. He nods. “I'll be there, so please don't cry.”

The bathroom door creaks open. Gar stumbles out, pajamas engulfing him. He stands next to the bed, as if waiting to be told what to do next.

Poor kid, Jason thought. He just didn't want to be alone.

Dick turns to him, and Jason sees his brother how he used to be, compassionate and caring. He raises his arm and Gar nearly falls into it, curling into Dick’s side and trying not to shake, eyes squeezed shut. Jason raises a hand, pulls the covers over him. “I'll keep that in mind. Shout if you need anything.”

Dick only hums, half asleep and not lucid at all. Jason places two water bottles on the bedside table, pulls the bathroom trash can over to the bedside as well, checks to see if Dick has a fever (only a slight one) and then leaves.

The other bedroom's door is closed, Rachel and her mother probably inside. Jason comes out to see Kori sprawled against one of the armchairs, drinking expensive liquor.

Jason grabs a pillow and blanket from the shelf and throws it onto the larger couch, plopping down and laying out. “Pass me a cup.”

Kori smirks something amused. “I don't think you are allowed to drink yet, in America.”

Jason scowls at her, pleased to see her laugh. She hands over a glass. Jason knocks it back, enjoying the burn. “How's Rachel?”

“Alright, all things considered.” Kori's voice softens. “Some douchebag was recording our torture. She's very protective of Gar, right now.”

“Makes sense.” He mutters, holding out the glass for Kori to pour more alcohol in. “They had him chained naked in a cage, fucking tazeing him.”

Kori pauses, his glass only partially filled. Her eyes darken. “Should've made sure they all burned alive.”

“Don't worry, I got them.” Jason pulls back, once again gulping the drink down. “Dick ain't doing good, but it isn't his first time, he'll probably be fine in the morning. Gar’s with him too - he doesn't want to be alone.”

“No shit.” Kori mutters, and Jason can't even tell if the alcohol is affecting her. “Thanks for saving us. I don't think anyone's said that, yet.”

“Don't mention it.” Jason never pretended to be the good guy. “I don't know if you noticed, but saving everyone was moreso collateral.”

It's quiet, for a long moment. “You care about him.” Kori murmurs. “A lot. It is… heartwarming. And scary.”

Jason snorts. “You don't know the half of it.”

“Well…” Kori looks outside. “I'm not going to sleep anytime soon, so if you're willing to share.”

Jason studies her for a long moment. He shrugs. “Sure.”

He doesn't tell her everything, of course. He tells her that he died, and he came back, and when he came back he came back broken. He tells her how the pit changed him, how dying alone and afraid changed him, how he'd do anything to protect the ones he cares about. Even if they wouldn't approve.

He's yawning by the time he finishes. Kori looks just as awake and just as sober as she had previously. “Don't tell him I said any of this.” Jason mumbles. “Girlfriend or whatever or not. We don't like to talk about it.”

It was a difficult thing, to mention. His trauma of dying, and Dick’s trauma of having to live through it. Of everything that happened afterwards. How he almost killed Tim. How Bruce hid his living status from his brothers. It's all too much.

“Of course.” Kori says, standing. She leans over him, kisses his forehead and moves to the lights to turn them off. “Get some sleep, I'll be in the kitchen.”

Jason might've said something else - he doesn't know. He's already asleep before she's out of the room.