Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The days after the CODE BLACK had been sent out were bleak. 

Your friends were left scrambling: for gear, for information. For a home.  As soon as the alert had went out, Jason had sent you one email before going dark.

-Don’t leave home. Stay safe. Please.-

Of course you didn’t listen. 

Not only was it obnoxious for him to treat you like a princess in a tower, but the fact that he didn’t even want you helping with their operations hurt. Bruce had been a mentor to you, too, even if you had never hit the streets in costumes like they did. Information and engineering had been what he passed down to you.

So you went out. 

Still went to your day classes at the University. Packed up your apartment and made sure everything with a close expiration date was used or thrown. Loaded up on non-perishables, clothes, and supplies that you knew would come in handy later. Everything you could do under the sun, you did it, if only to work through the grief.

It was a long week until you saw him, at the funeral.

You stepped up next to him, dressed in an elegant suit, holding an umbrella of your own. Jason glanced down at you, his eyes tightening in displeasure with you out in the open, but said nothing. At least not until the wake was over, and the normal guests had left, leaving you all to continue grieving the passing of your mentor. 

He took hold of your arm with a gentle but unyielding grip. “I told you to stay in,” he murmured.

“You’re crazy if you think anything was going to happen here,” you whispered back, directing your eyes toward the whole legion of police quarantining the area.

“Have you seen the streets lately? Crime is at an all-time high right now,” he hissed, his hand tightening around you, “so maybe give me a break for wanting to protect you.”

Frowning deeply, you tugged your arm out of his grip. “You’re not the only ones hurt from this,” you shot back, heated. “I’m allowed to mourn him, too.”

Jason scowled, but he relented, looking away with a sullen expression.

Deflating with a silent exhale, you slowly reached for him, sliding your hand down the leather jacket to his hand and entwining your fingers together.

Jason didn’t say anything, but the responding squeeze was more than enough.

You then made sure to give each of your friends a hug, and left before they did. There was so much more for them to do, after all. Talks about inheritance, the company, and the manor floated around while you walked away.

You had a Belfry to clean and prepare, after all. 

And it was the sight of you dusting and rebooting all the systems in the giant clock tower that greeted them later that night, them having crawled through a construction site, a quarry, the sewers, and the university respectively. The lights were already on, computers and monitors ready to go, and the clock tower’s camouflage plating activated to hide their brightly lit activities.

“What are you doing here?” Dick asked immediately in wonder, after hugging you.

“You guys need all the help you can get right now,” you simply said, hugging him back. If it was more desperate than usual, he didn’t comment on it, only hugging you tighter.

“Well,” Tim began with a small smile, stepping up beside you for his own hug, “I, for one, am glad to see you here. It’ll be good to have another person analyzing data.”

You nodded resolutely, ruffling his hair. “Always.”

Barbara was next, giving you another hug. “Are you doing okay?” She asked, moving back to get a good look at you.

The smile on your face was slight. “I’m trying,” you confessed. “I didn’t know him as well as you guys did, but he meant a lot to me too.”

Barbara scanned you for any lies, and nodded a moment later. “Don’t be afraid to talk, okay?” She said softly. “We’re all dealing with it together, you know?”

Your nod this time was a lot more muted. “Yeah.”

And finally, Jason.

He stared down at you through his helmet, silent. You stared back just as stubbornly, unwilling to look away or even blink. 

With a snarl of a groan, his shoulder slumped, and he tugged you into a tight embrace. “You’re such a little shit…” he muttered, “but thanks.”

Snorting softly, you encircled your arms around his thick torso, nuzzling your face into the hard planes of his chest plate. “Yeah, yeah. I’m always going to be here to support you, even if you’d rather I don’t.”

The hand on your back pressed harder.

“I…”

Looking up at him, you cupped the side of his helmet. “I know,” you simply said, smiling softly.

You always could tell what he wanted to say through his gestures, his actions.

He was tense, shoulders taut. But he slowly relaxed, his long exhale blowing gently at the top of your head through the filter.

“...Yeah,” he said just as softly, before turning around and heading out again.

Chapter Text

The days passed by in a blur.

Not only were you monitoring everyone’s activities alongside Alfred at the Belfry’s computer system, you were also engineering new pieces of equipment through the Batprinter, and tuning up the Batcycles. Every night that your friends went out and hit the streets for information and justice, you were working hard at making sure they were safe and well-equipped. 

It wasn’t as good as the Batcave– you didn’t think anything could ever be as good as the Batcave– but it was enough to get by.

Everyone was exhausted. Dick was trying to rein in the board at Wayne Enterprises as a majority shareholder. Barbara was helping rebuild the Bat information network alongside you. Tim was helping Dick as acting CEO and still attending online classes, just like you were now. The University had closed down all in-person classes in the wake of what happened with Professor Langstrom and the Freaks break-in. It was for the best, if you were honest. It meant being able to spend more time designing in the Belfry, with its resources and defenses.

And Jason? Came back bloody every night. Whether it was his blood or other people’s blood or an awful combination, you didn’t know, not really. But, you did know one thing. For all his cocksure attitude while he’s awake, it’s a different story altogether once he’s asleep.

Jason’s nightmares were getting worse, and you didn’t know what to do.

This thing between you guys…It had never been officially labeled as anything. You two cared about one another, and he was comfortable in letting you touch him.

Hand holding.

Hugs. 

Sometimes, when you felt brave, you would kiss him on the cheek. And every time, through your own tint of embarrassment, you would see his cheeks redden, and his heart would beat louder against your ear when you would hug him after.

It was sweet, but it wasn’t enough. 

It wasn’t enough to change anything. Wasn’t enough to distract either of you from the mission. Wasn’t enough to improve his mental state and the sting of the Lazarus Pit pulling at his psyche. Wasn’t enough to take away his trauma and his nightmares.

It was during one of those times where you found yourself in front of his room at the Belfry, listening silently to the pained grunts and tossing and turning through the door. 

“No…I can’t…Br-Bruce…”

Your hand hovered over the door knob, hesitating. 

“St-Stop...! He’s going to kill me again…Dad..!”

Mind made up, you opened the door and made your way over to his bedside. 

His large frame was tangled in the thin blanket, brows furrowed so deep you feared they’d cut. Sweat glistened down from his hairline, where his curls were a mess, and his hands futilely grabbed at his shirt, twisting and tugging until the fabric strained.

“Jason,” you called out quietly, resisting the urge to touch him.

His eyes stayed firmly shut, clenched into creases.

“Jason!” 

The next thing out of his mouth was no longer about Bruce, but about you. Your name, spoken quietly in a desperate, waspy keen. It was something you had never heard from him before.

Your heart ached at the sound.

“No, please, not her…F-Fuck, stop…!”

Brow furrowed with worry, you decide to finally reach out to shake him by the shoulder. “Jason–”

His eyes snapped open in an instant, and the next thing you know, you’re held down on the bed on your stomach, one arm behind your back in an uncomfortable choke hold.

“J-Jay…” You rasped, struggling to breathe against his massive bicep crushing your throat. “It’s me…”

At the sound of your voice, he paused, breathing harshly in the suddenly quiet room. His grip loosened, and you sighed in relief at no longer having your shoulder threatened.

He sat back on his haunches and tiredly rubbed at his face.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice deep and scratchy from sleep.

You resisted the urge to shiver. His voice was nice to listen to already, but with the dredges of sleep bringing it to a lower decibel? It was downright dangerous.

“Gut feeling,” you answered, twisting to sit up on your elbow. 

He looked rough. His brows were drawn down, shadowing his eyes and enhancing the dark circles below. His hair was a mess of short curls, and the dim light from the security panel highlighted the long scar that stretched from lip to cranium. 

You reached out to him, gesturing him closer.

He gazed at you for a long minute, before hesitantly doing as told, laying back down on the bed, this time with you in it.

It wasn’t luxurious. The bed could barely fit him by himself, and you had to shuffle until your legs tangled together, with his arms around you, and your nose brushing against the hollow of his neck. 

He smelled like cheap soap, gun oil, and cold sweat.

Every breath you breathed out, you felt him shiver from the warm puff. 

“I’m here,” you whispered, “it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he retorted, weary down to the bone, “none of this is okay.”

Even as he said this, his arms tightened around you, keeping you close. 

You made sure he fell asleep again before succumbing yourself.

Chapter Text

It was hard, some days, to keep moving. But the world didn’t stop for them to grieve. 

Blackgate break-in with Harley, Star Labs frozen shut by Mr. Freeze, the League of Assassins with fucking Talia Al Ghul. It felt like things were all connected, if only to screw them all over at their lowest.

The four vigilantes began patrolling earlier and coming back later, faces drawn with exhaustion, shoulders tense and joints aching from all their grappling. Sometimes they came back with just bruises. Sometimes, it was worse, and you had to help stitch them up, bandage them, and then have to send them back out the next night.

Without Batman– without Bruce, it was so much harder.

You and Alfred were barely holding on as well; busy fixing their gear every morning before they inevitably came back damaged again, sometimes beyond repair. 

There were replacements lined up as backup pieces and placed in as many cache locations as you could manage, all while you made new schematics on the BatPrinter in the Belfry. 

Stronger. Lighter. More resilient. Keep improving, because if you don’t, they could wind up dead like Bruce and it would be all your fault because you weren’t good enough, wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t smart enough wasn’t important enough to train like the rest of them did and you wonder if you were ever a disappointment to Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Tim and Babs and Jason and everything was too much–

Your hands slammed down on the table, rattling the keyboard and your tools.

The silence was suddenly deafening, and you looked up to see everyone staring at you. 

“Sorry,” you muttered before quickly walking over to the elevator, pressing the doors closed before any of them could say anything.

“Hey-!” 

You think that was Jason calling out to you, but right now, you just…You just needed to exist without thinking, without doing. 

You don’t know how much time had passed, but you found yourself walking the streets of downtown and taking the escalators down into the Elliot shopping center. It was only around sunset, so the ‘official crime time hours’ hadn’t started yet, and you were relatively safe to wander.

Stopping in front of one of the luxury stores, you blankly stared at a leather bag on display. 

When was the last time you had the privilege to indulge in such frivolities? The last time you walked down the street because you could, and went on shopping sprees and outings with your civilian friends? The civilian friends who you’ve ghosted since Bruce’s death, who all probably think you’re dead.

Was this how Jason felt when he came back? Everything was the plan, the mission, the objective. No time for a normal life, not even a scrap of thought spared for it. What was shopping when there were crooks to beat up? What was going on a night out in town when there were gangs to ambush? 

“It’s a nice bag.”

Surprised, you whirled around to see Dick smiling softly, dressed in his civvies. “Hey,” he greeted, stepping up to your side, “sorry for intruding, but we were all really worried when you left.”

“...Thanks.” You forced a smile before turning away. “The bag is nice, but I shouldn’t be blowing money like that.”

“Hey, a girl should get what a girl wants,” Dick lightheartedly argued. He then held up his open wallet with a grin. “Will it cheer you up if I get it for you?”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “I appreciate it, Dickie, but I don’t want the bag. I just…” Biting your lip, you looked down. “It’s just been a frustrating few weeks. For everyone, not just me. I see all of you working so hard out there, doing everything you can to keep crime down. Me?” You helplessly shrug. “I stay indoors, working on all your equipment and tech. There’s only so many conversations I can have with Alfred while we’re both busy with maintenance.” 

Everything felt like too much. There was so much pressure riding on you, on your friends, in keeping the city safe and hoping against all odds that you’d finally make a difference for good.

Dick nodded absentmindedly, and guided you to a nearby bench. “You know,” he began, taking a seat next to you, “when you first showed up at the Cave, we didn’t know what to think of you. Were you going to be a new sister, perhaps? Or maybe just a guest?”

“I’m not sure a sister should be holding hands with her brother the way I do,” you pointed out cheekily.

Dick playfully pushed you. “Yeah, well…I was doing much worse with Babs back when we were together, so I won’t judge you too harshly with Jason.” He threw in a wink.

You fake gagged and he laughed.

“But you’ve really proven yourself as a hard worker,” Dick continued, “and not just with learning our tech. You may not have been adopted like the three of us, but like Babs, you’ve become family. You were– are one of Bruce’s good friends.” He reached out to pat your shoulder. “Please don’t ever think low of yourself. Things have been bad lately, and we’re all barely floating as is, but we have each other.” He beamed. “That’s what matters.”

You softened and smiled as well. “Thanks, Dickie. It’s things like this that remind me you were the first Robin.”

“And don’t you forget it,” he said with a laugh. “Though, Tim’s coming into his own as Robin, and I’m so proud of him for that.”

“What about Jason..?” You hesitantly asked.

His eyes softened. “He was amazing as Robin, too, even though I wasn’t really around back then. Too much fighting with Bruce to suddenly find myself caring about a new brother…” With a heavy sigh, he leaned forward on his knees. “There’s little I regret more than not bonding with Jason as much as I should’ve, back then. I should’ve been there for him. I was– am his big brother. No matter what, I’ll always love him.”

“Well…” You took in a breath. “I think you should tell him that more often.” 

Dick glanced over at you. “You think so? I think he’s more likely to punch me for being a sap.”

“It’d be worth it,” you countered with a small smile. “Jason’s a soft soul, you know? Even if he’s a wall of muscle now. A strong guy like him still needs his big brother.”

Laughing lightly, Dick nodded with a soft smile. “You’re right. Clearly I gotta step up my game and embarrass him more.”

“That’s the spirit,” you said with an approving nod.

“In any case,” he continued jovially, “it’s a good thing I found you first. Someone’s tearing up the city on a rampage looking for you, and uh–”

“Oh god,” you groaned, holding your face in your hands. “He’s worried, huh?”

Dick winced. “Yeah.” He held out his phone. “Do you mind..?”

You never minded, but maybe it was a priority to get him settled down before he ended up killing someone again. And he was doing so well, too.

Accepting the phone, you tapped on Jason’s contact and waited.

One click. “What the fuck do you want, dickhead? If this isn’t news about her location, then fuck off–”

“Hi, Jason,” you softly greeted, and he went quiet.

“Hey…” he said back breathily, the wind coming through the speaker as he grappled through the city. “Where are you?! Are you okay? Are you safe? You’re not hurt? I’ll be right there, stay where you are.”

The phone disconnected, and you handed it back to Dick.

“I’ll head out now before he comes foaming at the mouth,” Dick said, getting up with a big stretch, which included him doing a handstand and a flip on the bench they were at. “Good luck with him.”

You waved. “I’ll see you back at the Belfry.”

It was only a minute after Dick had departed that Jason had come racing into the shopping center with single-minded focus, and all suited up too. You halfheartedly wiggled your fingers as a greeting, but found yourself being tackled by over two hundred pounds of muscle in an all-encompassing hug. 

“Oof-!” You exhaled, instinctively wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “Nice to see you, too, handsome.”

“Don’t you ever,” Red Hood breathed out harshly, his whole body shaking with barely restrained emotion, “run out without a word like that ever again!” 

Despite feeling guilty for the aforementioned thing, you couldn’t help but melt. 

“Okay,” you said instead, scooting back in your seat to put some distance between you two. Except, it was kind of impossible to move with an extra six feet of human attached to you. 

You delicately coughed and glanced around. “Hood…”

“What.” He looked up at you with a glare that you could feel through his helmet.

“Maybe we should head back,” you suggested, moving to stand. “We’re out in the open.”

There were several people within the vicinity blatantly staring at the two of you, since you know, Red Hood, and you could see someone starting to pull out their phone, which would be a complete disaster.

You felt him tense up in your arms, and in a split second, wind was flying in your face as he grappled the both of you up onto one of the ledges of Elliot Tower, far from anyone’s gaze. 

“Are we not going to the Belfry?” You asked, glancing around.

“You left,” he replied gruffly, and reached back to pull off his helmet. His turquoise eyes met yours in a muted gaze. “I figure you wouldn’t want to go back just yet.” 

He crouched down on the ledge and patted the spot next to him. You took his invite and sat down, letting your legs dangle a hundred feet up in the air.

“...What’s wrong?” Jason asked after a minute, his gaze locked on the city’s skyline. “You know you can tell me anything…right?”

“I know,” you murmured. Then sighed. “All the stress and pressure just got to me. I don’t know how Bruce ever did it by himself– maybe things weren’t as bad back then as they are now– but you guys are…” You hugged yourself. “You guys risk yourselves out here every night.”

“We know the dangers,” Jason quietly reasoned, hands clenching and relaxing.

“Knowing the dangers doesn’t guarantee anything,” you retorted, almost coldly, “the only thing it does is give you a chance. There’s so much for us to do, we’re stretched thin as is, and I…” You shrugged, helplessness overwhelming. “I don’t know when we’ll ever get to see the finish line. If that’s even a thing.”

Jaw tense, Jason nodded. “...I get what you mean. I’ve– We’ve all been doing this for years, and there’s no end in sight. Dick’s been at this for more than half his goddamn life and he’s almost pushing thirty. There’s no such thing as a normal life in our line of work, and it’s impossible to say what’ll happen.” 

He then snorted, expression sardonic. “Take it from me. I died at fifteen from this lifestyle and I still came crawling back.”

“That. That, right there. That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” you pointed out, weary and frustrated and every stupid synonym in between. “This life has already taken you away once. You deserve so much more than to keep having to fight for your life every day with no breaks.”

Things stayed silent for a few minutes, with the exception of the far-off noises of cars honking below, and the occasional train passing by on the rail.

Taking a deep breath, Jason tilted his head up at the darkening sky. “Well…” 

You felt something warm on your hand, and you looked down to see his, engulfing yours with his much larger palm.

“It’s a shit life, and some days I really don’t wanna wake up to do it all over again,” Jason confessed quietly, the Gotham winds blowing his words in your ear. “My body aches, and some days I can’t even taste the food because I need as many calories as I can stomach. It fucking sucks. I have no clue how long we’re gonna last– don’t even know if I’ll make it to thirty– but…I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

His gaze slid to you, the city’s lights highlighting his cheek and jaw, and he smiled, small and shy, stretching the scar on his face. “It gave me you, after all.”

Oh.

Your vision blurred, your sinuses hot, and with a sniff, you laced your hands together, and rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Ditto,” you whispered, biting your lip to hold back the tears. 

His other hand came up and wiped the drops that threatened to fall from your eyes. His hands that were more used to pulling fists, enacting violence, split skin and bruised knuckles, were so gentle with you, so careful. Like each touch could shatter you if he wasn’t so in control of himself. 

He could break you, anytime he wanted.

But you trusted him with your heart to never do so.

“Jason?” You timidly called out.

“Yeah?”

Lifting your head off his shoulder, you leaned up and gently placed your lips on his cheek, right on his scar. “Thank you,” you mouthed against his skin.

You felt him tense at the contact, and then his hand– the one that had wiped away your tears– carefully tilted your face closer, and instead of his cheek, you felt his lips. It was the first time you two had ever kissed.

This time the tears couldn’t be stopped, and you moved closer, kissing him back. 

Chapter Text

After that, it was like a brand new energy filled you, and you threw yourself into your work with renewed vigor. New gear, suits that allowed for even more flexibility with less drawbacks on skin chafing, and forging new batarangs and darts and rubber bullets. 

The Belfry had worked out a patrol system, which meant more ground covered, and the four of them came back with less injuries, which meant happier moods and less achy bodies. 

You were happy, too, happier than you’d been in a long time.

Not only was everyone excelling at their duties, but being in close quarters every day meant you guys were closer than ever as friends and ‘family,’ and Jason rarely if ever left your side while he was at the Belfry. It was like something in him had changed after your breakdown. Like he was finally allowing himself to reciprocate your feelings in a way that he never had before. It was...nice.

Oh, who were you kidding. It was fantastic. It was a joy that you didn't think you'd ever be able to grasp. Being closer to him, being vulnerable with him and trusting him on such an intimate level was a blessing you could never take for granted.

And maybe the kisses increased in frequency, too. And location. And sometimes right before he left for patrol, you’d kiss his helmet for good luck. He seemed pretty content with how much affection you showered him.

The one and only time you kissed him with lipstick on was so funny that you broke out laughing at the sight. The Red Hood with his intimidating helmet with glowing eyes and then you look down to see a woman’s lips imprinted at where his mouth would be. 

You were banned from kissing his helmet with lipstick from then on, but you did manage to sneak a photo from the surveillance camera in the Belfry, right before he wiped the mark off.

Tim had a copy for blackmail reasons, of course.

And while you yearned for a day or two where you’d be able to relax and hang out with your friends, or go on a proper date with Jason, like maybe to a cafe or restaurant or bookstore, you were content and focused. Things really were looking up, especially after Detective Montoya, Lucius Fox, and Jada Thompkins had re-established their channels with you guys. Even the goddamned Penguin was open to negotiations so long as he got something out of it.

It honestly seemed like you guys were finally getting a hang of the work that Batman used to do, and while it was bittersweet to think of your old mentor, you couldn’t help the swell of pride at continuing his legacy.

“So,” Jason began, gripping his hands in a habitual squeeze, “what do you think about us working with Montoya?”

Barbara looked up from her tablet. “Well, she was one of the biggest supporters of my dad, back when he was commissioner. With her on our side, we can get access to the GCPD again like we used to.”

“I guess,” he conceded reluctantly. “Just don’t like the idea of a Gotham cop.”

Deadpanning, Barbara rolled her eyes. “Jason. You don’t like anyone.” She paused and slid her eyes to you. “Well, except for one.”

Following her gaze, Jason cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, well, I like…” he pursed his lips, “that you said that.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow, unimpressed. “Both parts?”

Jason didn’t answer her. 

You didn’t even notice, too focused on your screen.

One day, you were so engrossed in the new schematic that you didn’t realize you’d been humming the entire time to the song playing in your headphones, swaying back and forth to the beat.

Tapping on the console while the arm guard was printing out, you turned to the main console, opening your mouth to ask for someone’s opinion–

Except no one else was here.

Tugging your headphones down, you let out a “huh…” and glanced around. Aside from Alfred upstairs watering some of the indoor plants, you didn’t see anyone else around, and didn’t hear anything, either–

A dull repeating thunk caught your attention, and you peeked over at the kitchenette. 

Jason was chopping something on the cutting board, wearing his signature Wonder Woman apron, while a pot was simmering on the old stove. 

You tip-toed closer, trying to get a good look. “Whatcha cookin’, good lookin’?” You sang.

He jumped, surprised. “Huh. I was wondering why you stopped singing all of a sudden.” With a quirk of his lips, he bent down to kiss you, which you happily reciprocated. “Workin’ on a curry at the moment, thought it’d be nice to vary it up.” He gestured to the pot while still holding the knife. “Wanna help stir?”

You saluted. “Aye, aye.” 

“So,” Jason began while cutting, “what’re you makin’ over at the printer?”

“Something Lucius sent over,” you answered while stirring the thickening liquid, “it’s a high density polymer plate that should be better at absorbing impacts, even bullets.”

He let out a low whistle. “Sounds nice. It’ll be good to have it on; the Regulators’ have been packing more of a punch lately.”

“Yeah…” You answered, good mood wiped at the reminder. “Dickie came back with a huge gash in his thigh. Sniper rifle. Had to suture it and everything for him.”

“That’s what he gets for wearing just spandex,” Jason said with a roll of his eyes, but you could tell even he was concerned. “He should be getting the upgrades first, then.”

“For sure,” you agreed. “I’m even keeping his color scheme and streamlining the parts so he doesn’t lose any mobility.”

“What’ve you got in store for me?” Jason asked, curious.

“Hmm…” You stirred the curry some more. “Well, you’re more comfortable with a bulkier design since you’re more muscular, but I also don’t want it too bulky that you can’t move. If you still want the jacket on top, I’m thinking I can add some absorbent plates on your back and torso, maybe your thighs too.”

“Yeah? My torso?” Jason raised a brow with a knowing glint. “That why my armor usually comes with abs on top of my abs?”

You delicately coughed and looked down at the stove. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said primly. “It’s maximum defense.”

“Uh-huh…” He drawled, smirking. “Admit it, babe. You wanna highlight my best features while making me your dress-up doll.” He cockily shrugged. “‘S cool with me.”

You paused, your heart skipping a beat.

He called you babe.

“...Maybe,” you muttered through pouting lips, turning away because you can feel him smirking at your back. “You’re hot, okay? You deserve to look good while kicking ass.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled, the deep sound going through your body like a caress. “I appreciate it.”

You kept your head down, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing at being called out.

Jason kept his gaze on you as he leaned against the countertop and crossed his arms, abandoning his meal prep for the moment. “You okay?” He asked after a hot minute. 

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine,” you said evasively, avoiding his gaze. “W-Why do you ask?”

He smiled playfully. “I can’t ask my girl how she’s doing?”

You couldn’t help the squeak that passed your mouth. “Your ‘girl’?!”

“Yeah,” he said, taking a step closer while observing your reaction. “Is that…not what you are?”

The hesitance and slight hurt in his voice snapped you out of your panic. 

“I…Well, we never talked about it. Put a label on it.” You fidgeted with your hands. “I mean, we kiss and hold hands and all that, but I didn’t…”

“You didn’t…?” He repeated, watching you with a crease in his brow.

Your hands tightened around each other, and you nervously glanced up at him. “...I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” you murmured, shoulders up and tense.

His large hand reached out and gently grabbed your chin, tilting it in his direction. “Hey,” he called out, fondness bleeding into his voice, “I don’t think you’re the person here who should be saying that.” 

His smile was sardonic at best, self-flagellating at worst. “If anything, I should be asking you if this was okay.”

“Me?” You blinked. “Why?”

He raised a brow. “Have you seen me? I could crush you with my bare hands. I’m some– some weird freak that died and came back to life and got dipped in mind-altering goo by an assassin cult. I’ve got more scars than I can count. I’ve…” His expression shuttered. “I’ve killed so many people, stained my hands with blood before Bruce got me to come around and helped me see another path again.” 

He quieted, his expression muted and dim. “...I’m not a great person to be with.”

His hand retracted from you and fell limp at his side.

“Therapy has helped a lot, and everyone here has helped, you’ve helped, but I know my issues have issues. If…” His jaw tightened. “If you’re not comfortable being in a relationship with me, we can just. Go back to what we were before. Casual affection, y’know?” He shrugged, trying to seem like it didn’t matter. “Or just friends. Or. Anything. I don’t wanna make things awkward, and I especially don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or. Scared, or. You know.”

The rising desperation in his words said otherwise.

“Jay…” You softened. 

Turning to him fully, you gently cupped his face. His eyes– his beautiful eyes that had shifted from lake blue to aquamarine from his time in the Lazarus pit– glanced down at you, hesitant and vulnerable. So different from his usual self, so unguarded in your presence. 

He was putting this in your hands. 

And as you’ve proven, your hands had already chosen what they wanted.

“Do you want to know what I see?” You began, not waiting for him to answer, “I see a man who uses his body to fight and protect what’s important to him, whether it’s Gotham, his family, or just strangers on the street. Your scars are proof you fought and survived, and I am so so so proud of you for that, for coming back. Not just to Gotham, but to this family.” 

His breath hitched.

You blinked away your tears. “And I know we never talked about what we’re doing, or how we felt, especially with this–” you gestured between you two, “ –but you are so important to me. I haven’t known you as long as the others, but you’ve always helped me around in the Cave, even when it was the last place you wanted to be. I’ve had a crush on you for years, you know? That night, when you came running and then kissed me on Elliot Tower’s ledges?” 

Your smile was trembling. “I had never felt safer. You make me feel safe.”

“Yeah?” Jason asked, breath shaky. His hands rose up, covering yours, and he nuzzled into your palms, lips ghosting desperate kisses on your skin. “You’re not just pulling my leg here, right?” 

“I could pull a leg if you want,” you couldn’t help but say with a little eyebrow wiggle, and he barked a wet laugh. “But I think we should talk this out some more before we get to that.”

“I’ll pencil you in,” he agreed with a snort. “...Well, if we don’t wanna keep going in circles, I guess I should just spit it out.”

He kissed your palm, his eyes heavy with fondness and want. “Wanna be my girlfriend? Cuz I’ve liked you for a while now, and I really like kissing you and thinking of you as mine.”

You knew your face was a red mess, but you couldn’t help your beaming smile. “Only if you’ll be my boyfriend, because I really like kissing you too, and it’d be nice to call you mine.”

He grinned, free and purely jubilant, and the sight took your breath away, your eyes squinting with stinging tears because–

Because the curry was currently burning.

“Shit!” You detangled yourself from him and quickly turned off the burner, but even then, you could tell from the burnt black edges of the pot and the coagulated mess inside that it was too late to save it.

“Damn it, I was looking forward to it, too,” Jason muttered, carefully taking the pot off the stove. “And I’ve still got half the ingredients right on the chopping board.”

“How about I go get us some more?” You suggested, heading to grab your coat and purse. “You take care of this mess, yeah? It’s the least I can do.”

“Maybe I should go with you,” Jason counter offered, frowning worriedly. “It’s getting a little late, don’t you think?”

“It’ll be quick, I promise!” You zipped up your coat with your bag strap inside. “Plus, I’d love to have your curry for dinner. You’re an amazing cook.”

Jason chuckled. “Alright, babe. To the store and back, okay? Keep your tracker on, too.”

“You got it…” You paused. “Honey.” 

Before the elevator doors closed, you could see Jason blushing. 

You grinned to yourself. 

What a cutie, and now he’s all yours. All six feet and two hundred pounds of hard muscle…

Mmm. Maybe it wasn’t the appropriate time to be, as Tim would say, ‘thirsty.'

Sneaking out of Union station, you headed up the block toward the river. The closest grocery place was Green’s right under the bridge, but it wasn’t too far, even though the location was a bit sketchy.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to bump into one of your civilian friends. The surprise had you stalling in front of the store. “Hey!” You greeted them with wide eyes. “Long time no see.”

They tensed up, looking a little twitchy, and slowly turned in your direction with a giggle. The act sent alarm bells ringing in your head, and you took a step back.

Right into another person, who covered your face with a cloth, and you stumbled against the wall, your vision blurring and your nose burning from the smell. You tried to struggle, but then you found your ‘friend’ helping your assailant, and you knew it was over.

“Sorry, it’s good money, haha..!” was the last thing you heard before your vision faded.

So much for being friends.

Chapter Text

“Wakey wakey, sleeping beaaaauty…”

“Is she… out forever? How boring! I…Dead Hood…mounting a rescue…”

“She’s smiling even…sleep…ReQ…nice!”

“Main event…tonight…everything ready? Hurray!...”

“Send out the invitations!”

.

.

.

Waking up was excruciating, literally. 

Parts of you ached and throbbed, the other parts were numb and stiff. Your head was the worst of it, mostly due to the never ending speech that was being looped somewhere outside. 

Trying not to move in case you weren’t alone, you slowly opened your eyes. 

The sight was about what you expected: a torn up basement that was beyond trashed with graffiti, garbage, and who knew what else. The smell was awful, and there was only one working light bulb which barely illuminated a set of concrete stairs.

From what your fuzzy brain could theorize, your ‘friend’ had taken the opportunity to sell you out to some sort of gang. The twitching and laughter had been a big clue that drugs were involved. Now, you just had to figure out where you were, who you had been sold to, and how long you’d been gone.

Because the plastic shards in your sock digging into your ankle meant your tracker was broken, and you had left Jason waiting for you.

A loud crash had you flinching, and you glanced up to see a barrel had rolled down the steps, lit in an orange blaze. A Freak followed in, chain bat in hand, laughing while beating on the barrel.

Okay. Freaks. That…wasn’t great.

Actually, that explained the weird vague dreams you had about Harley.

“ —Lovelies, it’s almost time to begin!” A familiar screechy voice on a loudspeaker played. “Get those boxes moving because it’s time to ReQ this city!”

While the Freak in front of you was busy having fun with his wanton destruction, you started struggling in your bonds. Regular rope, which was better than metal or plastic, but your wrists burned at the friction. You had to get out of here before Harley and her group mobilized. 

Best scenario was being drugged again. Worst was…Well. 

You weren’t going to think about that. 

When the ropes finally loosened enough for you to get out, you kept it in hand and slowly crept closer to the Freak. It was easy to take him by surprise and tighten it around his neck, choking him while he flailed until he slowly fell unconscious.

Dropping him to the ground, you took up his bat and carefully crawled up the stairs into what looked like a— factory? Warehouse? Whatever it was, it was open and dark and crawling with Freaks doing god knows what, with their awful music blasting at your migraine. 

“ –You’ve been scared for far too long. I’m here to give you hope; a chance to gain some control, to ReQover your life, to become the best you!”

Okay. Change of plans.

Ducking into a nearby door, it turned out to be a storage room full of abandoned paint, costumes boxed away, and discarded makeup. You grimaced as you picked up the makeup, but smeared some on your face in a vaguely similar style, and then used some of the old pressed powders to put ‘highlights’ into your hair. Lastly, you found an old denim jacket in one of the boxes, and swapped out your coat for it.

With a few splatters of paint on your now ruined clothes, you could feasibly pass as one of them.

Taking a deep breath, you nonchalantly walked out of the room with a swagger to your steps. Wasn’t hard when you could barely walk a straight line in your condition. 

Now all you had to do was to not get caught and find your way out, or stall until help arrived.

Either or.

Sure, you weren’t trained in combat like the others, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have contingencies for situations like these.

Luckily, or unluckily, no one paid attention to you. It was like every Freak you encountered was lost in their own world, even worse than usual. Whatever Harley had cooked up in her new drug was bad. 

You could feel it under your skin, the way your fingers twitched to grab, pull, break something and feel good from it. It was stronger than hunger, than thirst.

Feeling good just from feeling good…

By the time you found yourself in an empty trashed hall, your breathing was ragged. Your heart felt like it was going to explode in your chest, and you collapsed against the wall. 

“Damn it…” you whispered, gripping your throbbing head. “Just a little farther…”

But then something caught your ear. Frowning, you pressed against the wall. What was that sound? 

And then you realized. It was the sound of a crowd. Of a sold out performance. And of course, Harley’s voice, pushing for her new drug and implant that you’d been researching into with Tim.

When had she organized all this?

Exactly how long had you been gone for?

At least now you had an idea of where you were. But then something else caught your attention. 

A gunshot. Several. Too powerful to be any regular Gotham handgun. You couldn’t help the seed of hope blooming in your chest. 

Red Hood was here. 

Jason— your boyfriend.

Alright.

While they did their jobs, you had to do yours.

Bungling your way down the hall, you found what looked like a control room, with multiple monitors and wires sticking out of servers. Another Freak was there, controlling what looked like a stage, and on the screen—

Your breath caught at the sight of the familiar red helmet and the barely contained rage in his shoulders. Next to him was Nightwing, escrima sticks out and ready. 

As the Freak pressed the button to lift the curtains, you held up your bat and pelted him from behind, knocking him out. Before you could even touch the keyboard though, the screens lit up with a familiar green logo.

“Oracle,” you breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Glad to see you’re mostly okay,” came Oracle’s earnest reply through the speaker. “You—Oh wow, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Like the new look?” You asked dryly, gesturing to your Freaks cosplay.

“It’s…something. Maybe not a look you should keep.”

Your chuckle came out more of a raspy cough. “How— How did you find me? My tracker’s broken.”

“We tracked down your ‘friend’ in the Freaks from your last known location and they fed us the same information that Harley’s been pushing on the internet. She posted an ‘invite’ to the Monarch Theatre a few hours ago.”

Oh, this was Monarch.

Somehow, it always came back to the place where the Mission began.

“How…” your voice cracked and you licked your cracked lips, “how long have I been gone for?”

“Two days,” she responded, voice sympathetic even with her anonymous filter.

You closed your eyes. “Oh…He must be so worried.”

“He hasn’t stopped to sleep since, even when we try to fight him on it, and has left half the Freaks in long term care, sooo if you hear more than the usual amount of gunshots, you know why.” You could hear the small smile on her face. “You’re not looking good, though. What did they do to you?”

“Not sure…” It was a struggle to keep yourself up, “but it’s bad. I got knocked out with chloroform, and they must’ve kept feeding me something because this is the first time I’ve fully woken up since.”

“Hang on.” Oracle’s voice hardened. “Robin is en route to you while Nightwing and Red Hood deal with Harley and her gang of thugs. Just sit tight and barricade the door.”

“ —ISN’T THAT RIGHT, QUINNERS?”

The sudden boost in Harley’s mic had you drifting your attention back to the other monitors, specifically the ones focused on the ‘presentation,’ and your breath hitched.

Red Hood was currently slamming his fists against the barrier that prevented him from wringing Harley’s neck in front of her live audience.

“Harley!” He roared. “What the hell made you think this was a good idea, huh?! Did you think you were gonna get away with this?!”

“Ooo, Dead Hood,” Harley mockingly cooed, wriggling her fingers at him. “You’re sooo much livelier than you used to be. Looks like you also want to ReQ this city, yeah? Yeah?”

“I’m gonna ‘ReQ’ the rest of your crew if you don’t surrender right now and give me what I want,” Hood growled, pointing a gun in her direction. “And you know what I want.”

She tapped her chin. “Do I? Maybe you should jog my memory a little. I’ve just been so busy doing my best to help this city.” Her eyes slid to him, and she slowly grinned. “Maybe instead of Dead Hood, I should call you Prince Zombie? Off on your dashing adventure to save the princess?”

Maybe it was the stage lights, but…you could’ve sworn there was a swirl of green mist surrounding Hood’s gloves. 

“Stop this shit,” Red Hood said with a deadly calm. “Right now. Because you don’t want to see me when I’m really angry.”

For a second, Harley looked like she was hesitating, but the roar of the crowd pushed her on, and her harlequin smile took up its usual spot again.

“Too bad, so sad! Maybe you should follow the example of the good people of Gotham here and take things into your own hands!” She threw her hands up into the air. “Right, Quinners?!”

The crowd roared with delight, but you couldn’t help the snort. It was funny. Maybe. Kind of. “Criiinge.”

“Oh no–!” Oracle gasped, and you mimicked her as soon as you saw both Red Hood and Nightwing fall through a trapdoor on the stage, locking them in a sub level. “Echo Protocol failed from the Belfry. Explosives are on a closed circuit.”

Your eyes widened. Explosives? Here?

Someone then knocked on the door, in a specific sequence, and you sighed in relief as you unlocked it to let Robin in.

“I’m moving in to help diffuse the tech,” Oracle– now Batgirl, stated firmly. “Robin will help you out of here and then evacuate the rest of the audience. GCPD’s already been called and are enroute to the theatre.”

“But what about Hood and ‘Wing?” You asked urgently.

“Harley’s guys,” Batgirl responded grimly. “They’re being kept busy. Batgirl out.”

“We have to move,” Robin declared, gently grabbing your hand. “You aren’t in good condition, and we have people to evacuate.”

“Counteroffer,” you replied, yanking him toward the door and ignoring his little yelp, “we go down there and help Batgirl disarm the bombs while the boys roughhouse to their heart’s content.”

“What?! Are you crazy?” Robin hissed, tugging you back toward an exit. “We have to get you out of here!”

“Oooorrr,” you drawled as you swayed back and forth in your spot, “we go party it up in the basement like everyone else and we won’t have to evacuate!” You grin widely, stretching your lips so far that you felt some of the cracks bleed. “Way better idea, don’tcha think?”

Robin fell silent and eyed you carefully. “...You’re under the influence,” he stated after a moment. 

“Nooo..?”

He deadpanned. “Yes, you are. C’mon, they’ve got this handled. You trust them to do their jobs, right?” He pulled you closer. “Trust me to do my job, then.”

And without further ado, he twisted you and hefted you up in a fireman’s carry and sprinted out of the building. You whined and beat at his back, but your hands were made for engineering, not for violence, and to him it probably felt like a nice massage than any actual damage.

Before you knew it, he had placed you on a rooftop across the street looking at the theatre. “Stay here,” he warned, holding his hand up like he was talking to a dog.

You gazed at him, unimpressed. “Woof.”

With a snicker at your response, he waved and grappled back toward the theatre, just in time for police sirens to start echoing in the distance. 

Groaning softly, you plopped down on the dirty rooftop, uncaring about your state, and gazed up at the night sky.

It was cloudy, as was normal for Gotham, but the moon peeked out like a shy little orb of cheese, and maybe some of the clouds looked like spaghetti, and the little white dots a sprinkle of parmesan, and—

“Babe!”

Oh wow, time was faaast.

Sitting up, you lazily waved. “Heeey Tall, Dark, and Handsome,” you sang.

With a recklessly rough tug on his grappling line, Red Hood skidded to a stop on his knees next to you and bundled you up in his arms. “Thank fucking god you’re safe,” he said with a shudder, his whole body all but trembling with relief as he hugged you close. “Are you okay? Did they do anything to you? If you tell me they fucking—touched you or hurt you, I’ll go back in there for another round, I swear to god–”

“Baby, honey, love of my liiife,” you whined, drunkenly throwing your arms over his broad shoulders, not noticing him choke. “I’m good! Really good! Really hungry, maybe a concuss– concise– cushion but I’m totes mcgoats okay!”

He slowly pushed you back and stared at you through his helmet lens. “You are not good.”

“Nope,” Batgirl said, landing close by. “They dosed her a few times with the trial versions of ReQ. I was able to find a list of drugs they stole from Daggett, and we should be able to synthesize a counter. For now, though?” She crouched down and patted your head. “You’ll just have to deal with her like this.”

You preened under her touch, but not as much as Jason’s, because Jason’s hands were so big and manly and strong and warm—

“B-Baby…” Hood awkwardly coughed, looking away.

Oh, did you say that out loud?

“You’re still speaking out loud,” Batgirl helpfully said with a smirk.

With a metal zip, both Nightwing and Robin arrived as well. “Poor girl,” Nightwing said with a sympathetic smile. “That’s one hell of a drug Harls has made. And to think, there could be hundreds of people buying it up.”

“Don’t forget about that implant she was showing off at her presentation,” Robin added, tapping at the screen on his gauntlet. “Whatever it is, it’s clearly letting her heavily influence not only her gang, but regular civilians. It’s going to be a disaster to clean this up.”

“Did she leave anything?” Batgirl asked, propping one hand on her hip. “Tips, hints?”

“Nope, but I got an A in muscles and an F in showing my softer side,” Hood responded bluntly, still cradling you in his beefy arms. “There's no way I’d be ‘soft’ with any of the morons that follow her.” His embrace tightened around you. “Especially after what they did…”

“She gave me an F in ‘glute-ability,’ and wants me to do more squats,” Nightwing sniped, clearly displeased. “As if my butt isn’t already perfect.”

“Hehe, butt,” you snorted. “Nightbutt. Dickbutt, ha!”

“Hah!” Robin laughed loudly, and when everyone turned to him, he covered his face, hiding his snickering. “That’s great! Dickbutt!”

“No names on the field,” Nightwing scolded. “C’mon, let’s get back to the Belfry. We need Agent A to take a look at her.”

“I’ll call Dr. Thompkins and see if she’s available,” Batgirl added.

The conversation started to get muffled in your ears, and you let your head flop down on Red Hood’s shoulder, the warmth and safety of his presence lulling you to a doze.

“Babe?” Hood called you, gently shaking you with his hand. “Hey, don’t fall asleep yet. Baby? Baby!”

“Mmm, muscles…” You slurred out, nuzzling into his neck.

Then, nothing.

Chapter Text

You went in and out for a while, because one second you were on a dirty rooftop staring into the night sky, the next you were in an ambulance with Dr. Thompkins over you, and then you must’ve fallen asleep for a long while. 

The next time you opened your eyes, you found yourself in your room at the Belfry. 

Squeezing your eyes, you glanced around and down at yourself. You had been cleaned and changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants you liked to sleep in. You touched your face, feeling bare skin instead of expired makeup and paint, and slowly breathed out a sigh of relief.

Your body ached, but there was no longer the urge to wreck things while high on happiness. Now, you just felt…empty and tired. 

Sighing, you rolled over to get more comfortable, and stilled.

Jason’s sleeping face met yours, only inches away.

The large man was sitting on the floor and resting his upper body on the mattress with you, using his own arm as a makeshift pillow. The dark circles under his eyes emphasized the slight gauntness to his sharp cheeks. Had he stayed with you? Even after two days of physically pushing himself to find you?

Softening, you gently reached out and cupped his face, your thumb rubbing at the stubble that had grown in. His eyelid twitched, and with a low groan, his eyes cracked open to meet yours.

“Babe,” he breathed, cupping your hand on his face and laying kisses on your palm. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Decent,” you croaked, throat dry.

He slowly let out a breath, all tension leaving his shoulders. “Thank god. You’ve been in and out for three days.”

Three? No wonder you felt so bad.

“Huh…” You slowly blinked. “So the drugs are out of my system now?”

“Just about,” Jason confirmed, weary. “They did a number on you.”

“Did I say or do anything weird?” You asked jokingly.

Jason looked away, uncharacteristically shy and blushing. “You, uh…You did say some things, yes,” he answered slowly. 

“Like…?”

“Um.” He gripped his knees. “Something like calling me ‘tall, dark, and handsome.’”

You hummed. “True.”

Jason reddened. “And you. Talked about how nice my hands are.”

Okay, that was a little embarrassing. “Also…true…” you conceded with a blush.

It was at this point that your boyfriend refused to meet your gaze. “And…”

“And..?” You tried to prompt.

“You…” He quieted. “You called me the ‘love of your life.’”

Oh.

“Oh,” you squeaked, face red and mortified. “That—I mean, you know—Said under the influence, right? Ha…ha…” you nervously laughed, tugging the blanket higher to hide yourself. 

If you couldn’t see him, then he couldn’t see you, and couldn’t ask you more about what you said.

A few seconds passed by, and then you heard him snort, right before your blanket was tugged away and you had to face your fears. Your boyfriend, in this case.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t have to,” Jason reassured with a shy smile. “Besides, we’ve only been dating a week and you were kidnapped and drugged for most of it. My track record as your boyfriend isn’t starting off so hot.”

He looked apprehensive, you thought. So, you reached out and patted his knee.

“It’s okay. We’ll make it up,” you said with a shy smile. “If that’s okay with you..?”

Jason stared at you, surprised, but let out a laugh. “You bet your cute ass we will. I ain’t resting until I get to take you out on a date.”

You couldn’t help but beam.

“I’ll even make sure to wear something that shows off my muscles, since you were so appreciative of ‘em,” Jason added teasingly, his grin growing when you squeaked again and rolled away from him.

After another laugh, he helped you sit up and escorted you to the bathroom so you could freshen up. You wished you could shower longer, but you honestly didn’t have the energy for it. Dressed again, he then led you back to your bed and held out a bottle of water.

“Bottled water only right now,” he informed you as you slowly drained it dry, “Clayface has made an appearance and we think he’s in the water system.”

You paused, and the urge to throw up was strong. “Am I drinking Clayface particles right now?” You couldn’t help but ask, eyeing the bottle.

“Out of state brand, thankfully,” Jason reassured, taking a seat next to the bed. “Trust me, I’ve bought as many packs of these as I could. I don’t even want to think about him being in my body.”

“It’s okay, honey, I’ll be in your body instead,” slipped out before you could stop, and you slapped your mouth shut, mortified.

You heard Jason all but choking at what you said, and you couldn’t help but peek, only to see him with his face in his hands. What little parts of his face you could see though—and even down his neck—were red.

“...I didn’t mean that,” you whispered, feeling awkward beyond belief. “Or, well, if you’re into that I can try, but I don’t have any strap-ons and I’ve never—”

“Just. Stop,” Jason wheezed, hunched over in embarrassment. “Please.”

“Okay.”

Biting your lip, you slowly reached out and rested your hand on his knee. 

He peeked at you through his fingers, and you gave him an awkward thumbs up.

Jason stared at you, silent and honestly at a loss for words, for a really long minute. 

Then, a grin broke out of his face and laughter echoed out of him. His whole body shook from the effort, and the unadulterated sound had you giggling too, until you were laughing just as loudly.

It was so silly and dumb, and a great reprieve.

He slid onto the bed with you and bundled you in his arms, almost squishing you beneath his bulk. “God, I’ve missed you,” he breathed out next to your ear, sending shivers down your neck. “I was so worried when you didn’t come back in time…”

You snuggled into his chest, resting your face in his neck like you always do. “I’m okay, Jay.” You peppered his neck with airy kisses. “I’m sorry I made you worry. I didn’t think a friend was going to literally sell me out.”

“Yeah, well, don’t worry about them,” Jason said with a low growl, his arms tightening around you. “They won’t ever pull this kind of shit on anyone ever again.”

You peeked up at him. “Like…permanently or?”

He looked down at you, unimpressed. “I didn’t kill them, jeez. More like beat them to a pulp and made them swear on their life…” He bared his teeth. “Or else the big, bad Red Hood was gonna make sure of it.”

“‘The big, bad Red Hood’? Mmm…” You hummed. “I don’t know. If I heard that, I wouldn’t be able to decide if I should be scared or turned on.”

You felt him stiffen around you, and his hand tilted your chin up to meet his half-lidded gaze, heavy and molten.

“Yeah?” He crooned, his mouth spreading into a smirk. “You know, you’ve been saying a lot of interesting things lately. A guy can only laugh ‘em off so many times before he starts taking them seriously.”

His breath was hot against your cheek, and you shuddered, eyes fluttering at the sudden shift in atmosphere. 

“You tryin’ to start something, babygirl?” His hands—large and calloused—fondled your waist, playfully squeezing your hip. “Who am I to say no to a gorgeous woman like you?”

You bit your lip, your thighs squeezing together. “...I’ve always thought you were handsome,” you confessed in a rush while blushing, your hands feeling up the crevices of his abs. “Always liked seeing you in the Cave during my training, with your big shoulders, and your biceps, and your tits.”

He broke out laughing. “My tits?”

“Yes.” You nodded seriously. “I’m weak to them. They’re so grabbable and big and just, ugh." You bit your lip. "Sometimes, it’s really hard to resist touching them.” 

He snorted.

Grabbing your wrist, he placed your hand firmly on his left pec. “Have at it then, babygirl. My tits are yours to fondle to your heart’s content.”

“Really?” You jokingly gasped, but was it really a joke if you found your mouth watering, making you lick your lips, and your breathing deepened at feeling the pillowy jiggle of his breast. 

You never could pull your eyes away from how tight his t-shirts would fit, stretching over his big chest. His pec was firmer than your own of course, with all his muscles, but it was still softer than his abs, and when you pushed it up, you watched it spill over in your hand. You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to; the sight was so hypnotizing.

It was everything you wished for.

Jason watched you, partially amused, but mostly embarrassed at how fervent your attention was to his chest. “I didn’t realize you were so enamored with this part of my body—Ah!” He yelped and flinched when you flicked his hardening nipple. “Give a guy some warning, would’ya?!”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, still distracted by the utter perfection before you. You paused, and took a deep breath. “You can touch me too...if you want, since you’re giving me unlimited access.”

He paused.

“...Yeah?” He said, tension bleeding into his voice. His hand that rested on your hip slowly moved up beneath your shirt, touching bare skin. His thumb rubbed around in circles, playing with the band of your sweatpants. 

“Mhmm,” you purred, arching your back to give him more room.

Using his pecs as leverage, you stretched up to kiss him, opening your mouth to lick at his lips. With a small groan, he opened up, his tongue meeting yours in a slick curl. 

Thank god you brushed your teeth earlier.

The room felt hot when Jason rolled on top of you, bearing his muscular body on top of yours and encasing you on all sides of just him, him, him. The kiss grew more and more intense, drool dripping down the side of your mouth as he kissed you, pressing down on you like he couldn’t get enough, like he couldn’t breathe without you. 

It was dizzying to be desired like this.

His hands squeezed your hips, with one sliding up until his thumb rested under your breast. And it stayed there. 

You let out a small moan against his mouth. “Jay, please,” you begged, wiggling underneath him. “Touch me.” 

His eyes squeezed shut at your request, and his next exhale was shaky. “Fuck, babygirl. You sure? You only just got better…”

“Please.” 

His hand slid up to properly cup your breast, exploring its shape and softness. He squeezed, gently, and swallowed your sweet moans with his mouth. You felt his thumb encircle your nipple, teasing it until it was hard and sensitive, and when his fingers playfully pinched it, you arched off the bed with a high-pitched whine.

“Jay, I love your hands so much,” you panted, feeling light headed and dizzy, from his body heat, the feel of him, his mouth, his tongue, his hands, his—

His hardness rocking against your thigh.

Swallowing, you reached down and gently cupped him through his sweats, hearing him gasp and swear when you made contact.

“Fuck, baby—” He breathed heavily, moving down to kiss your neck. “You don’t— You don’t have to if you don’t wanna—”

“Oh, I want,” you all but purred, admiring the shape, the feel, the weight of him through his sweats. The fabric barely hid any of it, and you felt your body throb at the thought of him inside you. 

Panting against your neck, Jason bit down at the junction of your shoulder, sucking and licking until you knew you were going to end up with a very noticeable hickey. 

“Can I…” You could barely finish your sentence, his mouth and teeth distracting you with delightful shivers. “Can I touch your cock, Jay?”

He all but shuddered against you, unintentionally grinding his clothed erection harder on your thigh. “Baby—baby,” he moaned, mouthing at your neck. He grabbed your hand and guided it under his waistband, gasping when your hand touched him properly without a barrier in the way.

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.

Your pussy clenched.

He was hung. Big like the rest of him, and throbbing in your hand. Something hot and wet oozed onto your palm, his precum already dripping like crazy. Satin soft, with large veins that you traced with your fingers. You couldn’t get your thumb and middle finger to touch when gripping the shaft. 

You were drooling at the thought of this monster inside you, and you slowly slid your hand up and down, teasing the length of his cock and smearing his precum all over. Jason was breathing hard above you, barely able to concentrate on anything other than your hand.

“Baby,” he moaned, the sound almost vulnerable and pleading, “m-more. Harder—you can g-grip harder.”

“Yeah?” You breathed, squeezing him just so, and you watched him shudder. “Is that how you do it with your own hand, Jay? Tight and hard?” Licking your lips, you used your free hand to tilt his chin so you could meet his glazed, half-lidded eyes. “Do you ever think of me when you jerk it?”

His jaw clenched, a moan breaking through when you upped the speed. “Y-Yeah, every time,” he admitted, avoiding your gaze as if it was something to be ashamed of. “I—I think of your hand on my cock, like now, and your mouth, and—and between your tits, your ass, your… your…”

“Pussy?” You finished for him with a curled smile, watching his face redden. “Are you embarrassed? Why? Don’t tell me I’m your first?”

“Not girlfriend…” You couldn’t help the small pit of jealousy that curled deep in your gut. “But first…this. First anything beyond kissing.”

You paused, your heart positively melting. “Really?” You leaned up to kiss his cheek right on his scar. "I'm surprised. You're too handsome to never have had, um, more with someone else."

Jason looked away. "I died at fifteen, babe. Who was I supposed to romance?" Your hand stopped, along with your heart, and he glanced down at you. "It's fine. I've made my peace with it a long time ago, around the time I started gettin' a hold of the Pit rage. Besides..." He smiled, soft and sensual. "I got you, don't I?"

“Yeah?" You breathed out. "You’ll let me be your first? Are you sure?”

He raised a brow, his shyness wiping away for a moment. “Babe, you have your hand wrapped around my cock. Of course I want you. Shit—there’s not a single other person I would want here, with me, right now or ever.”

“God…” You breathed out, eyes fluttering closed as you leaned your forehead against his. “You say the sweetest things, Jay.”

You twisted your wrist, stroking him properly now with your thumb on the underside of his length, pressing down on one of his big veins. 

Jason shouted his moan, head bent into your neck again. “F-Fuck! Oh god, I’m—I’m not gonna last. Mmph— Mmm…” His next moan was low and drawn out. “Baby, baby please…”

“I got you, honey,” you breathed, licking your lips as his cock throbbed in your hand, like it was begging just as much for release, for you to give him that feeling of euphoria. Gripping him tightly, you tensed your arm and jerked him hard and fast and almost brutally, dragging the satiny skin back and forth.

“Fuck…Fuck fuck—Fuck!” Like a spring, Jason tensed up until he snapped, his whole body shuddering with each breath as spurt after spurt of hot, milky cum coated your hand and then some. 

It was a good minute before he got his breath back, his cock twitching occasionally now that it was finally done releasing its mess.

Carefully taking your hand out, you looked at the small puddle in your palm with an impressed raised brow. “Wow…” 

It coated your hand, with milky strands connecting your fingers together, and dripping down your arm in several rivulets.

Jason looked away shyly, face red from exertion and from your blatant staring. “Is—Was that okay?” He asked, unsure.

You looked up at him, making sure to keep eye contact, and slowly licked your palm, smiling at his choked gasp. “More than okay, baby,” you reassured, smacking your lips at the slightly bitter and salty taste. “You taste delicious.”

He closed his eyes and breathed out, chest heaving with post-orgasmic bliss, before he met your gaze again. 

“...Will you let me return the favor?” He asked intently.

You were taken aback by his offer. “You…You want to?” 

His eyes darkened, and he glanced down between your legs. “I’d rather die a second time than to not be able to eat you out, babe. I won’t lie and say I’ve never thought about it…" A smirk spread across his face, cocky and suggestive. "Besides, you wouldn’t deny a starving man his meal, right?”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you. “If you really want to. It’s just, well, past relationships didn’t really…” 

It was something you’d heard from all your female friends, and had experienced yourself: men didn’t go down on women nearly as often as women did for men.

It only cemented Jason as an amazing man in your eyes.

When you gave your nod of consent, Jason inhaled sharply, and leaned in to kiss you again, tasting the remnants of his release on your tongue with a intrigued hum, before licking down your neck. He tugged at your shirt in question, and you lifted your arms for him, letting him undress your top. 

He paused, drinking in the sight of your bare breasts for the first time. “God, you’re pretty…”

“Yeah?” You asked shyly.

Wetting his dry throat, he leaned down and hesitantly licked one of your nipples, keeping his ears open to your gasps and moans. His hand squeezed your other breast, teasing and kneading the soft skin with his calloused palm and fingers. His licks then turned into sucking, from soft to rugged, lips firmly wrapped around the nub to suckle at. 

When you gasped sharply at the feeling of teeth, he quickly pulled off.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” He was worried.

You shook your head. “No, it just took me by surprise.” You smiled encouragingly. “You can do it again. Please.”

Jason slowly exhaled, his panic draining away with his breath. “Anything for you, babygirl,” he said hoarsely, before ducking back down to bully your breast with his mouth again. 

You cried out and wrapped your arms around his head, cradling him close for more, one hand running through his hair in a stroking pattern.

Pulling back with a wet slurp, he turned to your other breast, giving it just as much adoration as he did the former, licking and sucking and tugging with his teeth until you were a mess of sensations. Every touch, every wet lick and hot breath on your breasts fed into the heat in your abdomen, making you want, making you yearn. Your thighs were trembling as your panties got stickier and stickier.

“Mm, baby please, please,” you whimpered, trying to squirm out of your sweats. “My— My pussy…”

He groaned at the thought, and he tugged your sweatpants down and tossed them over his shoulder. He then scooted down the bed until he was kneeling between your legs, eyes locked onto your absolutely soaked and transparent panties.

“Fuck…” He whispered in awe, chest heaving at being this close to you. He bent down, on his hands and knees like a worshiper, and took a big sniff, his nose close enough to nudge your clit as he took in the warm scent of your arousal. 

You gasped at the touch, and your legs were trembling on either side of his broad shoulders. “J-Jay…” 

“I got you, baby,” he promised, his voice hoarse, and laid kisses on your inner thighs, occasionally nipping at the more sensitive and supple skin. He took his time, sometimes outright licking at a spot over and over until it was wet and red from his relentless attention, moving closer with each spot until he stopped right before the fabric.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly pulled your panties down, letting you lift your legs so he could fully take them off. 

And then you placed your feet back down on the bed, and spread your legs in front of his face.

“Jesus…” He breathed out, hypnotized by the sight of you in all your bare glory. “God, you’re beautiful, babe. You know that?” His hand came up and gently, carefully, with the lightest touch, spread your lips open to see every part of you.

You bit your lip, your face red as you felt yourself drip down his fingers. “Don’t…Don’t look at it like that,” you couldn’t help but whine. It was embarrassing to be naked while Jason was still fully clothed.

He glanced up at you and raised a brow. “And why not? I can’t worship my girlfriend’s body like the goddess she is?” He leaned in close and breathed out on your folds, watching with hungry eyes as you shuddered from the sensation. “Tell me what you want, babygirl. I’m a fast learner.”

“Um…” It was even more embarrassing to direct someone else to something you knew by heart, but god did you want this man on you yesterday. “You can touch, but be gentle please, and be careful with your nails. I’ll let you know if I don’t like anything you do, so just. Go ahead.”

It was a moment later that Jason brought both hands to your folds, and used them to spread you open, watching with an avid gaze as it let some of your juices drip down onto the bed sheet. “Fuck…” Leaning closer, he tentatively gave you a lick.

You inhaled, and he paused. “No, don’t—don’t stop. That was good. Keep going.”

He licked you again, and again, the tip of his tongue flicking against your clit, and you gasped, arching up your hips closer to his mouth. “Mm, right there,” you begged, spreading your legs even wider to make room for his bulk. 

He hummed, the vibrations right against your clit sending sparks up into your depths. He flattened his tongue against you, his saliva mixing with your juices as he lapped at your clit, your folds, until he explored further down and thrusted the pointed muscle inside your entrance.

You threw your head back against your pillow with a moan. “Oh…” His tongue felt so good, lighting up your nerves with pleasure every time he dragged it on you. Your hands scrunched at the bed sheet, needing something to grip and tug at. “You can—” you swallowed, “you can put a finger in, or two.”

You felt him pause, and his tongue retracted from you, leaving you empty and disappointed, but only for a split second, because his mouth went back to your clit, and a thick finger slowly inserted itself inside you. The stretch was delicious. Having even one of his fingers inside felt so good, and with how turned on you were, there was literally zero friction, just mouth-watering breadth.

“Ah…” you breathed out in a pleasure filled daze, “yes, yes, like that. You can, thrust it. Slowly first, and watch your nails.”

Jason really was a fast learner—or had watched a lot of porn—because he was already curling his finger upward while working it in, brushing against that spot that had you quivering in his mouth. His lips were open in a kiss with your clit, his tongue undulating against it in circles and waves, and it was making you lose your mind.

“Oh my god, yes! Fuck me Jay, baby, please, right there,” you chanted, panting and whining, your voice rising when he inserted another finger, stretching you with his much thicker digits. “Sooo good—mm, harder!”

Like a good boy, Jason listened without question. 

His fingers were all but pounding you, and god you wish it was his cock instead, splitting you open and ruining you with his girth, but you swore his fingers were almost as good, rubbing against that sweet spot inside, and he was drooling all over your pussy while his tongue fondled your clit to the point of vibration—

With a high-pitched sob, you crossed your legs over his shoulders and grabbed hold of his hair for dear life as your entire body quaked with the force of your orgasm, clenching around his fingers and your juices gushing. 

Your mind blanked; all you could feel was the intoxicating wave after wave of pure euphoria that made you forget to think, forget to breathe, forget everything.

It was amazing that you were able to have this kind of intimacy with the man of your dreams when only a month ago, you could barely hold his hand.

Several moments passed before your muscles slowly relaxed, and the hold you had on his hair lessened until your arms fell back onto the bed beside your head. Jason was breathing just as harshly as you were, and your legs slid off his shoulders when he sat up. 

The lower half of his face was absolutely drenched.

“God damn, babe,” Jason groaned while he licked off the rest of your juices from his lips, and then cleaned off his fingers in much the same way before using his shirt to wipe the rest. “That was…That was so hot. You’re so hot, you know that? You taste amazing, too. Creamy and warm.”

“Your mouth is magic,” you mumbled, feeling boneless and relaxed. “Was that really your first time?”

He paused before pointedly looking away, blushing. “Never let it be said that porn isn’t educational, to a point." He paused. "That, and I had to listen to Roy’s relationship problems in the past.” 

“Well, you were amazing,” you sighed lusciously, stretching your arms up and your legs apart to keep them limber. When you opened your eyes again, you found Jason staring avidly between your legs, with a certain bulge in his sweats. “Oh?” You raised a brow, gesturing to him. “Don’t tell me you’re already up for round two?”

Jason looked like he was debating heavily with himself, and after a moment, shook his head. “As much as I’d love to, you’re still recovering, and it’s…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a little fast. Not that this was bad; I’d do anything to have you cum on my face again, but.” 

“But?” You asked, curious.

He glanced up at you, and those sharp handsome features and dark eyes that promised a sinful bedroom experience had melted away.

Now, it was full of sweet shyness, of a boyhood innocence barely shed, and so much fondness in them that it hurt to look at.

“I wanna take you on a proper date. Dinner, flowers, candles. All that,” Jason confessed, his face pink. “I want to romance you, see you in a dress or something nice like that. Take my time.” He paused. “Get us a nice room, maybe a suite. Somewhere nicer than the Belfry, at least.”

His confession took your breath away with its sincerity, and you found yourself sitting up. “Really?” You asked quietly. “You really mean that?”

He glanced up at you and nodded. “Yeah. Really. It’s a little cheesy, but it’s what I’ve always thought of doing in a relationship, and…Well.” He took your hands in his. “I’m serious about you and me, so I want to do it right.”

You blinked, finding your vision blurry, and your heart pounding just as quickly as it did a minute ago, but not from intoxicating arousal. No, this was so much more. 

As fragile as dandelion seeds, blowing in the wind, and as warm as the spring sun with its promise of brighter days. It felt like hope. Hope, and the beginning of something more, something deeper, if they kept going. 

You could almost call it love. It was a little too soon right now. 

“Okay.” It came out shakier than you wanted, so you said it again with more confidence, “okay. We can plan a thing. Maybe get a reservation somewhere, dress up for the night, and enjoy each other’s company.” 

Jason grinned, and god it was a beautiful sight. “Sounds great to me. I’ll get Dickie and Timbo to pick up my routes when we do.”

The two of you smiled at each other, the mood feeling so soft and delicate.

With a light sigh, you pulled your sweatpants back on sans panties, and got comfortable on the bed. Jason disappeared to the bathroom for a quick second and came back out with some of his hair wet, implying he washed his face. He threw you a wet towel, and you did the same for your hand and between the legs.

After throwing the towel into the laundry basket, he paused next to your bed. You looked up at him, and wordlessly scooted over to make some room for him. 

Smiling, he laid down next to you on his side, resting one hand on your hip. “Feeling okay?” He asked quietly.

“Mhm,” you hummed, eyes closing. “I feel goood. Seriously, you’re pretty amazing. Most guys can’t get a girl off like that, even with prior experience.”

He smirked lazily. “I’m just a natural.”

“Mm, it’s impressive.”

Another pause. “I’ve also read some…books. Like bodice rippers. They're informative, kind of.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. Always the nerd. “I didn’t think those books were so good for real life interactions, or would mention the finger trick. You sure you haven’t been stealing Tim's tablet to watch those male influencers with cooking videos that look like sex?”

“...No.”

You giggled again at his pouting tone, outright laughing when he rolled on top of you and wrapped you in his arms again.

Chapter Text

After that day, you were back in business, fully recovered and focused. Everyone was in good form, including your allies throughout the city. 

Except, in all the excitement of your kidnapping and drugging, you had missed something pretty important.

“What do you mean ‘The Court of Owls’?” You blurted out, staring at Tim in disbelief.

“It’s what I said,” Tim replied, just as deadpanned. “We’ve been looking into any and all mentions of them throughout Gotham’s history, but there’s only so much of the data uploaded onto the internet and held in digital archives, so research has been a little slow.”

You collapsed back into your chair and held a hand to your head. “Okay, so. The nursery rhyme is real, and from what you’ve compiled so far…” You took a quick look at the tablet, “is that the Court has existed for centuries, probably as old as Gotham, right?”

Tim nodded. “Right. The book that Harley gave us while in Blackgate actually helped us uncover a big clue, and it seems like the Court has a lot of influence, especially when it comes to political leanings. They’ve left a string of assassinations throughout the decades without anyone noticing the pattern.” He paused. “Until us, now.”

“So, wouldn’t that suggest that the members are likely from rich families?” You suggested.

He blinked and paused whatever he was tapping on the tablet. “What makes you say that?”

“A court implies sophistication and organization, yeah?” You crossed your arms and looked up at the dusty scaffolding. “Which means that to keep this going, they would’ve needed a ton of funding. Gotham’s economic balance is pretty skewed, where we have the very poor and the very rich, with not much middle ground. What you can do is run a background check on all the big names. Elliot, Kane, Crowne, Cobblepot...” 

You quieted, and Tim was quick to pick up on your unsaid words, for his expression turned betrayed.

“Wayne?” He breathed out in disbelief. “...Drake?”

You bit your lip. “...Maybe,” you answered, not all that sure. Not all that confident that the truth would coincide with your bias. “I…don’t want to say, but we don’t know, right? Your parents never talked about the Court, did they?”

“They never really talked to me about much of anything,” Tim muttered, his scowl bitter and conflicted. “They weren’t home often, and when they were, we were always busy catching up and going to high profile events. I wasn’t privy to the important dealings.”

You watched him, worried. “I’m sorry, Tim. I– I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, forcing a small smile. “It’s important to investigate every aspect we can, even if the possibilities are low. And, you know…” He looked away, into the sunlit window of the clocktower. “It wasn’t all bad. I have a lot of good memories with them, too. I just wish I had more time with them.”

“I think we all do, with our parents,” you confessed, standing up to take the younger boy into your arms. Tim was stiff, but his shoulders slump, his arms halfheartedly hugging you back. “It’s hard to think about the what-ifs.”

“Yeah,” he replied, muted. “You know, my dad knew about—well, me being Robin. After my mom died. He was so angry, at me and at Bruce…but in the end, I think he was just worried. He…He told me he loved me, and that he regretted not being there for me as often as he should’ve.”

You softened, and hugged him tighter. “I think I can say for everyone here that we’re all glad to have you, and that we love you, Tim.”

He backed away, shoulders hunched all the way to his ears and his face steaming with embarrassment. “Y-Yeah, well, you too,” he stammered out awkwardly. “It’s good to have you back and safe, and stuff. We were all really worried since you’re, y’know…”

“The only one who can’t fight?” You answered with a teasing smile.

“Our friend,” Tim corrected with a small pout.

You couldn’t help but coo. “Awww!” You nuzzled your face against his. “You’re so sweet, Tim.”

Despite how embarrassed he was, he didn’t fight you off at all, melting into your arms. Sometimes you forgot how much he craved tactile affection. 

A shout caught your attention and you looked up toward the loft where the entertainment system was. Tim’s hand slowly drifted to his hip where he always kept his staff. 

It wasn’t needed however, as a minute later, Barbara was hurriedly rushing down the metal steps.

“Oh hey,” Barbara quickly greeted you. “Did you two want anything from Big Belly Burger? I’m heading there right now to grab me and Jason something.”

You observed her harried expression. “Did something happen with Jay?”

She looked away guiltily. “Lazarus flare-up, I think. He’s…not doing too well. I don’t know if it was the video game’s horror theme that triggered it, or something else. We were just playing and everything seemed normal, but then he suddenly collapsed.”

Worry shot through you. “I’ll go check on him,” you promised. “Bring me back some fries, though.”

“And a mushroom swiss for me,” Tim chimed in, before handing over a specific bottle to you.

You nodded thanks, and headed up the stairs. When you turned the corner, you paused at the sight. 

Alone here in the loft, Jason sat hunched over on the sofa. His shoulders were tense, his head bowed and expression shadowed from the midday light. His hands flexed, gripping one another tight enough to hurt, but what was most unsettling was the almost visible glow surrounding them. One that radiated a certain green that had haunted him for years.

Letting out a quiet exhale, you slowly made your way over until you crouched in front of him. 

With a shaky breath, he peeked at you, brows creased in pain. “Babe…” he said hoarsely. He crumpled into himself in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you. “N-Not now. Please…”

It honestly broke your heart to see how afraid he was. Not just of himself, with the uncertainty of retaining self-control, but also the possibility of hurting you and everyone around him. It wouldn’t be the first time. This wasn’t even the first flare-up you’d seen, and likely not the last, and he always wanted to be left alone to take care of it himself. 

But you were here for him now.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” you said softly, and held up the bottle Tim had handed you. A bottle of lavender oil, meant for aromatherapy and massage. “I got you.”

Jason shuddered, barely a step up from a sob, but managed to jerkily nod. 

Smiling, you uncapped the bottle. “Can I touch you, honey?”

“...Yeah.”

First, you placed your hand on his arm, feeling him hold still under your touch. It was only when he relaxed that you carefully began applying the lavender oil to your hands. Rubbing them together, you gently placed your hands at the junction of his neck, allowing the calming scent to seep into his skin and up into his nose.

He took a deep breath as quickly as he could, desperately inhaling. The next inhale was longer, slower. You took the time to massage his shoulders, really work at the knots and stress that accumulated not just from the flare-up, but from night after night out on the streets, using his muscles to keep the city safe.

The sigh out of him was appreciative. Exhausted, too. Slowly but surely, Jason surrendered himself under your touch. 

“Thanks,” he croaked, glancing up at you with such a vulnerable expression, ashamed of his weakness, and you couldn’t help but lean your forehead against his.

“Always,” you whispered. “You’re my partner. I care greatly for you.”

He closed his eyes and let out a breathy laugh. The sound was broken. Fragile. Like shattered glass.

But like sunlight hitting a reflection, it too was beautiful in its own way.

“...‘I cannot fix on the hour or the spot,’” he recited quietly, “‘or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.’”

“What’s that from? Austen?” You asked, curious.

He met your gaze, tired and worn, and yet whole. Unbroken.

You adored his tenacity. 

“Yeah. Pride and Prejudice. It’s on the shelf if you want to give it a read sometime.” He gestured toward the left of the TV. “Or we could watch the movie together.”

“Oo, yes,” you agreed with a grin. “Kiera Knightley is gorgeous.”

“I had a crush on her when I was younger,” Jason confessed with a small boyish grin.

“Who didn’t?” You pretended to swoon. “Pirates of the Caribbean wouldn’t have been the same without her.”

He chuckled. “Alright then, it’s a date.”

Smiling, you leaned in to lay a tender kiss on his cheek. “Babs should be back soon with our food. Do you want to take a nap after?”

Jason nodded halfheartedly. “Yeah, sounds good." He sighed, broad shoulders slumping. "I’ll need it if I’m heading out to the Powers Club tonight, especially if our info is right and the Court of Owls is holed up there.”

You frowned, worried. “You sure? Maybe Dick can handle it on his own…”

“I’m sure,” he replied, lips twitching into a weak smirk. “I wouldn’t want to leave Big Bird on his own in there.”

“...Alright,” you relented, “but I’ll make sure to stay on the comms for you two.”

Except you couldn’t, because after a certain point inside the building, all signal had been lost.

You were frantically trying to reconnect the computers with either Nightwing or Red Hood’s earpiece, but nothing worked. Either the rock bed was too thick for the signal to break through, or, more maliciously, the Court had something to jam it. 

Either way, your new top priority was making sure to work on an improved communications device for the team so this could never happen again. 

The hours ticked by slowly, excruciatingly so.

Every minute where you got no feedback could mean something had happened, either injury, lack of consciousness, or…

No.

You couldn’t afford to think like that. There was no way that the two former Robins could end up dead. The two of them had defied death too many times for it to finally stick it in a stuffy old dungeon.

“Might some tea help calm your nerves, Miss?” 

Startled, you turned from the monitors to see Alfred, holding out a tray with two cups of steaming hot tea.

“Oh,” you sighed, reaching out to take one. “Thank you. I appreciate it, Alfred.”

“Of course.” He picked up his own cup. “I know you’ve heard this many times while in our company, but heed me once more: Have faith in them. They have been trained by the best, and are the best. And you, my dear…” He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Are also one of the best. You being here to support them gives them a reason to come home.”

You smiled weakly, but his words did help quiet your anxiety. Just a little. “Thank you, Alfred. I hope I’m making Bruce proud.”

“You are,” he reassured, his wizened features lined with grief and tired pride. “You all are.”

“How are you holding up, Alfred?” You asked quietly.

He let out a slow exhale. “Not well, I’m afraid,” he confessed, “Master Bruce was my son, and losing him is another ache I must carry with me until the end of my days. But life goes on, and so I must as well, for you and the others.” He took a sip of his tea. “There are those who need our help, after all.”

You nodded in agreement, and drank your tea as well. Jasmine, for its calming fragrance.

Alfred had always been dependable that way.

It was another hour in the computer chair, helping both Batgirl and Robin on their patrols, before the other two signals came back online, making you jump up from your seat.

“Guys?” You called out into the mic. “Are you two alright?”

“Let’s never do that again,” came Nightwing’s groan.

“If I wanted nightmare fuel, I know where to get it,” Red Hood added curtly. “We’re heading back, Belfry. There’s…a lot to unpack. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Understood.” You sighed in relief. “Anything to prepare for your arrivals?”

“Standard medkit, but uh…” Nightwing sounded sheepish. “We’ll need some extra burn cream.”

Burn cream? What the hell had happened down at the Powers Club to require that?

Answer: Lots of flamethrowers in a deep underground slice-n-dice death trap. 

“It was insane,” Jason grumbled while you applied the last of the burn cream on his back before pasting a patch on top. “There were probably hundreds of skeletons down there, and some of them were wearing antique clothes.”

“They’ve been killing for centuries, and a lot of people,” Dick stressed, his expression haunted. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like a medieval drama.”

Barbara crossed her arms. “And it’s all right here, underneath Gotham’s soil,” she murmured, pensive. “Maybe we can go back and take some scans. Try and identify any of the cadavers.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Tim responded, eyes darting across the data they had gotten from their masks. “We’d be risking a lot, and the Court now knows we’re onto them. They may have extra security measures now.”

You sighed. “And if we send anyone down there now, we won’t be able to hold a stable signal. Not until I test out the new comms.”

“I feel bad for that guy they kidnapped…” Jason spoke up quietly, his hands grasped together. “We couldn’t save him from falling to his death, and there’s no way to climb into the path where his body is; not unless we want to take another trip through the Club.”

“Huh…” Tim hummed, flipping the tablet to show everyone the footage captured from Hood’s helmet.

It depicted a deep underground hall, with columns carved from rock and what could’ve been gods-be-real moonlight shining down in a ritualistic hue. Marble floors with an elaborate spider-legged cage, and then the worst part: the slice-n-dice flame trap that led into the pit of decay where hundreds of dusty old skeletons laid, forgotten by time.

“Jeez…” You breathed out, eyes wide. “This is…so much more elaborate than I thought. The scariest thing about this is that it all looks so routine.”

“Margie, the tattooed lady in the circus, used to tell stories about the Court,” Dick explained while rolling his shoulder. “Used to say they were always watching and would steal us away for a bad performance. I always assumed it was just a legend, but after tonight, there's no way to deny the truth.”

“The earliest record of the rhyme was from the 1700s,” Tim stated, bringing up the stanza in question on the tablet. “So they’ve had plenty of time to perfect their methods.”

“And from the rhyme, they said they were after the Fountain of Youth,” Barbara added.

You tensed, and couldn’t help but glance at Jason.

A fountain of youth, and there was proof of such a thing due to the League…Who were here in Gotham…

“This can’t be a coincidence,” you said aloud.

Everyone paused and looked over to you. “What do you mean?” Dick asked.

You started counting off your fingers. “First, Ra’s Al-Ghul shows up to fight Bruce to the death. Then, Talia shows up with the League, and now we have knowledge about the Court of Owls who have been searching for a ‘Fountain of Youth,’ and have existed for centuries in the shadows of Gotham.” You paced around. “Why now of all times? All of a sudden?”

Jason frowned. “...You think something’s happened to trigger all these events.”

“But are we sure they’re all even connected?” Tim couldn’t help but ask.

Barbara stayed silent, and instead of continuing the group discussion, rushed to the evidence board and began piecing things together. You all gathered around, watching as photos and documents were pinned together in a new formation, until the whole image came together.

Dead bodies. An unseen court of Gotham’s elites. Al-Ghuls. Langstrom’s research suspended in green liquid.

“I think we’re looking for a Lazarus Pit,” Barbara announced. 

To your right, Jason tensed up like a taut wire, and you silently grabbed his hand. He gripped back, almost painfully so.

“Think about it.” Barbara turned to look at the rest of you. “What do we know best about Ra’s Al-Ghul and Talia? That they’ve used Lazarus Pits for centuries to extend their lives and fuel their crusades. Which is—”

“A fountain of youth!” Tim breathed, rapidly tapping on his tablet to add this new connection. “And considering how long the Court of Owls has been around, we can extrapolate that—”

“There’s a Lazarus Pit here. In Gotham,” Dick finished grimly. 

Jason’s expression was thunderous. “We need to talk to Talia.”

Chapter Text

And all hell broke loose. 

Talia had lied. 

Of course. 

She hadn’t broken off from the League; she was in charge, and they were indeed looking for a Lazarus Pit. So was the Court, because apparently you were right. 

Every Gotham elite sans Wayne and Drake had a seat inside the Court, and the Voice of said Court was none other than Jacob Kane, Bruce’s uncle by blood, and grand-uncle to Dick, Jason, and Tim. Not to mention one of Alfred’s longest friends on this side of the pond.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, made even more so when Talia shot him dead in front of his own wife out in public, right after the Bats had finished storming Kane Industries. ‘For insulting the League,’ she had said. 

And the insult was true; the Court had been making undead soldiers for decades called ‘Talons.’ These were all former members of the Court, or had some relation, as they had all volunteered themselves to the cause to become part of the undead army.

When the information had come to light, Dick had paled and spent a few days pacing around the Belfry. 

“What’s wrong?” You couldn’t help but ask, kneeling beside him on the stairs.

He looked conflicted. “...Remember how I told you Haly’s circus had an urban legend about the Court?” 

You nodded.

“...My parents had mentioned something about it, too,” he confessed quietly. “My last name, Grayson? It came from my grandfather.” He stared into the distance. “According to my father, he disappeared one day with no warning.”

You watched him with a frown. “Sorry, but I’m not quite seeing the connection here…”

“Grayson,” Dick repeated. “The Gray Son…Gray, like a Talon’s skin.”

Your eyes widened. “You…You don’t think..?”

Dick slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. The way those Talons move is familiar to me.  I’m…” He stressfully ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe I’m just overthinking things.” 

He then glanced up at you with a weak smile. “Let’s keep this between us, okay? It’s just a little theory.”

Concerned, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “You sure? If it’s bothering you this badly, maybe it’s something we should look into.”

“No,” he immediately refuted. “It doesn’t matter. My family’s history ends with me, and we have more important things to think about right now.” His expression lightened. “Besides, I shouldn’t be taking your time like this. A certain someone looks like he needs your company right now.”

Both of you turned to watch Jason absolutely throttle the training dummy with taped-up fists, his grunts and growls echoing in the large open space of the Belfry. Tim then walked up and tried to engage him in conversation, gesturing to the guns laid out on the table and his tablet, only to barely miss being punched when Jason turned out of reflex.

“Yeah, okay.” Getting off your knees, you marched over to the training area. 

Jason was back to focusing on the training dummy, sweat dripping down from his forehead and down his chest. His expression was clouded, brows creased with an anger he usually reserved for the streets. Tim looked like he wanted to say something, but knew better than to provoke that sort of rage at himself.

You silently motioned for Tim to go somewhere else for now, and he walked away with his hands in the air, exasperated.

A second later, you stepped up next to the dummy a few feet away within Jason’s line of sight.

His next punch faltered, and he let out a harsh exhale. “Really not in the mood right now,” Jason grunted, fingers flexing underneath his taped up hands. “Just give me an hour to work this off, okay?”

He had been like this ever since returning from being taken by the Court, some weeks ago. 

It had not been a good time for anyone, but it had been especially hard on you. 

There had been no trail, no evidence left behind except the Penguin, who had been there at the scene and had double-crossed Red Hood in the first place.

And he knew nothing. Nothing that Nightwing and Batgirl hadn’t already known.

And it was days before Jason had come crawling back out of an unknown tunnel, bloody, cut up, and haunted by what he had witnessed. 

He still refused to talk about what he had seen there, only muttering that the Court had some form of fear toxin left over from Scarecrow’s terror on Gotham.

You can’t let him go on like this.

As Jason pulled back an arm, ready to pummel at the dummy once again, you reached out and held his fist in your hand. “I think,” you began, lowering his arm back down, “you should take a break.”

Despite the tension running hot through his frame, he didn’t try to break out of your hold, even though he looked like he very much wanted to. He let you guide him to the dinner table where you handed him a towel and a sealed water bottle.

Taking a seat across from him, you meticulously unwrapped his hands, applying ointment to his split knuckles. “What’s wrong?” You asked softly.

He huffed.

“What isn’t wrong these days?” He rested his arms on the table. “The Court and the League want a war here in Gotham, and innocent people are getting hurt on the streets. The gangs are still running in full force, even after Harley, Freeze, and Clayface had been returned to Blackgate.” His hands clenched tightly.  “Talia’s been fucking with us since the beginning, and now we know there’s a pool of supernatural kool-aid sitting beneath us somewhere.” 

He threw his hands in the air and leaned back in his chair, exasperated. “Can’t catch a fucking break around here.”

You closed your eyes, suddenly tired. “Yeah…Feels like it never ends.”

Jason snorted derisively. “At the rate we’re going, there won’t be a Gotham for us to protect. I don’t…” 

He rubbed his face.

“I don’t even know if we’ll get out of this alive.”

Your head shot up. “You really think that?” You asked, disheartened. 

If even Jason was having doubts, then what hope did you have in believing otherwise?

Pausing at the tone in your voice, Jason quickly backtracked. “I—No, of course not. Baby…” He reached out to take your hands in his, stroking them tenderly. “I’m doing my best. We’re all doing our damn best out there.” 

Licking his lips, he opened his mouth, but paused, and let out a small sigh. 

He looked older than he should; worn down by violence and death. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was in his early twenties. This life was hard on him; on all of you.

“...I can’t guarantee anything,” Jason quietly admitted. “The League is bad enough, but there’s the Court, and now they’re both out for blood. I’m more than happy to let them kill each other, if only Gotham wasn’t their fucking battleground. But…” Shoulders squared, he met your gaze. “I’ll be damned a second time if I don’t do everything I can to make sure we survive.”

His expression lightened. “I still gotta take you out on that date, after all. Can’t do that if there’s no city standing.”

You huffed a small laugh. “I guess that’s true…” Your smile slowly shrank, and you couldn’t help but shiver even in your sweater. “Jay, I—”

Wait, why were you shivering…?

Jason exhaled, his breath visible, and you both shot out of your seats just in time for something huge to rock the entire building. 

A large warm body suddenly tackled you to the ground, bringing you down to your knees and covering you as the tremors continued. You clung to Jason’s shirt, eyes squeezed shut as the world around you trembled and refused to stay put. 

It felt like an eternity before things finally quieted, and the dust settled around you, as did the shattered glass bottles of the tequila Dick preferred. 

“You okay?” Jason asked in a hurry, getting up on his feet in a flash and tugging you up without any effort needed. 

You nodded shakily, brushing some of the ceiling dust from your hair. “What the hell was that?” You hugged yourself, rubbing your arms. “Why is it so cold?”

Jason growled and turned to the main computers. “It has to be Freeze.”

“But how did he break out of prison—”

“Gather up!” Barbara shouted, already tapping away at the computer. “Freeze has the Elliot Center held hostage in a giant ice sculpture! If this keeps going, the whole city will freeze to death!”

“I’ll get the thermal suits ready,” you declared, rushing over to where the various suits you made were stored. You didn’t think these would be needed again after the last breakout, but here you were.

All four of them were mobilizing out to help with containment, rescue, and neutralization, which meant you and Alfred were to bunker down until further notice.

The ice sculpture outside was truly a horrific sight. It completely swallowed up Elliot Tower, all eighty floors, and it had triggered a blizzard so powerful that Gotham’s current temperature was already in the single digits and still counting down. With the building being a stone’s throw away, it was no wonder the Belfry felt like it was being torn apart from the sudden onslaught.

As the four of them finished suiting up, you held your hands together. “Be careful, and don’t stop moving,” you warned. “Even these thermal suits can’t help much if you don’t maintain your internal body temperatures.”

Robin saluted you. “You got it. We’ll be back in a jiffy.”

“Hopefully with all our limbs intact,” Nightwing couldn’t help but joke.

“And hopefully this will be the last time that Freeze breaks out,” Barbara said grimly. “I’m sick of global warming too, but this is ridiculous.”

Your gaze slid to Jason, who had yet to say anything and had his helmet tucked in his arm. He stared down at you, expression set in a deep and furrowed frown that relayed just how serious the situation was.

Glancing at one another, the other three headed toward the elevator, giving you two a moment of privacy that you appreciated.

You stepped closer to your boyfriend, reaching up to cup his face. His eyes fluttered closed, tilting to kiss one of your palms.

“Be careful,” you whispered, “come back to me alive, okay?”

His lips twitched into a smirk. “Anything for you, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. “Like I said, I’m not dying again anytime soon.”

Despite being full of worry and anxiety, you tiptoed. 

He leaned down. 

The kiss was firm, on the cusp of being painful and desperate. 

You didn’t want him to go. 

Somehow, this was so much more dangerous to you than the gangs, assassins, and undead minions. Maybe because the danger was right outside, and was so much harder to take down than with a couple of fists and advanced weaponry. How do you fight the very elements? How do you fight off the biting cold, where every second meant your very cells could freeze over, and everything about you would cease to be in a timeless wasteland?

But duty calls.

With one last kiss, Jason reluctantly pulled back. Putting his helmet on, he took in your figure, your face, everything about you. Then he stepped back, and another, before forcing himself to turn around to the elevator.

You watched him go, with the rest of your friends. Left behind once again, as they faced dangers that you had no training to be near.

It was times like these that you resented your past self for only focusing on the tech support side.

But there was no use in whining. 

For the next couple of hours, the temperature in Gotham continued to drop, and when you weren’t monitoring their vitals and coordinating with the GCPD, you were helping Alfred prepare blankets, hot water in thermoses, and bundling up in several layers yourself. 

The water had completely frozen in the pipes by hour two. 

The lights above you flickered.

You were forced to pace around and do jumping jacks to keep your blood flowing. And yet nothing was more stressful on your heart than having to wait.

Finally, by hour four, the comms lit up and you pressed the button on your side. “Belfry here.”

“Belfry,” came Batgirl’s voice, “w-we’re d-done here. On our w-way back n-now. N-Need warmth. R-Robin’s in b-bad shape.”

Oh no.

Chapter Text

As soon as the elevator doors slid open, you all but tackled Tim in a dry towel. He was almost unresponsive in Jason’s arms, only groaning his answers to your questions. Both Dick and Jason proceeded to strip him down to just his compression shorts, then took a few blankets to bundle him up in before putting him close to the space heater. 

Cuts from the ice dotted his body, with a perfect copy on his now ruined uniform. As the heat slowly warmed him up, they started bleeding again, albeit sluggishly. You had never been so fast with washing and dressing wounds, knowing that every second wasted was another where Tim could tip over the edge. By the end of it, almost his whole torso was bandaged up, along with his arms and legs.

Thankfully, he was full-on shivering again within half an hour, which meant hypothermia hadn’t set in too badly. 

Dick wrapped his arms around him, cooing like a mother hen.

“Gotta fatten him up sometime soon,” Jason muttered while stripping down to his boxers and bundling up himself. “Kid’s too skinny.”

You held out an armful of clothes. “Here, make sure to layer up,” you advised, handing out shirts and sweaters to each of them and helping them put them on. You even made sure to give Barbara an extra warm compress for her back, in case her old injury acted up from the cold. 

“Thanks,” she said appreciatively, curling up against Dick’s side.

Jason side-eyed them. Then glanced at you with an unreadable expression. 

Frowning worriedly, you plopped down next to him and invited yourself into his blanket bundle. Even through the layers, there was a chill that emanated from him, so you began to rub him down around his chest and shoulders, and then his arms, hoping the friction and motion would help encourage blood flow. 

Jason’s breathing began to get heavier, which you took as a good sign, so you moved into his lap to continue massaging his chest. 

He ducked his head, leaning his forehead against your hair. 

“Babe,” he whispered, voice strained, “you should stop.”

His breath caressed your ear, causing you to shiver. You moved to grab another blanket from the stack, scooting between his legs, but then something brushed against your lower back–

Oh.

Oh.

Biting your lip, you glanced up at him coyly and not-so-subtly adjusted your seat in his lap, making sure to rub your ass against his rising erection through his boxers. You felt his responding groan against your back rather than hearing it out loud.

“Alright, we’re heading back to our rooms,” Jason declared, gathering you up in his arms and standing up from his seat. “I’ll write my report later.”

“Make sure to keep it down, you two.” Dick had the audacity to wink at you, and you covered your face in embarrassment. 

“Oh, leave them alone,” Barbara mumbled, half-asleep. “We were way worse when we were still dating.”

“Didn’t need to know that!” You cheerfully yelled over Jason’s shoulder.

The rooms in the Belfry were little more than glorified closets, only just big enough to fit a bed and a small dresser and a ledge that barely qualified as a desk. Bruce had done some under-the-table renovations to add bathrooms to each of them, but they still had the remnants from its days as one of the first train stations in Gotham.

Jason gently deposited you on the bed before crawling in himself, and hugged you tightly to his chest. 

In the gentle darkness of the room with only the barest lights from the cables, Jason seemed…far away. There was a quietness to his body language that sent alarm bells ringing in your head. A hesitation that was very out of character. Even his arms around you felt more like an anchor, barely able to keep himself abreast in the tumultuous waves in his mind.

It was…distressing to see him like this.

“Jason..?” You hesitantly called out, placing your hand on his cheek. It was still cold.

He closed his eyes. “...Yeah?” 

“Are you really okay?”

He slowly exhaled through his nose. 

“...Probably not,” he conceded. “You’d think after what Harley pulled in the hospital, and what Clayface did in the sewers, I could handle anything.” 

His arms tightened around you. 

“But I guess being buried in snow isn’t too different from being buried six feet under dirt.”

Sorrow gripped your heart so quickly it took your breath away. “Jay, I’m so sorry—” 

“You know how I never talked about what I saw down there, in that godforsaken maze that the Court threw me into?” He suddenly said, his expression neutral. “They played mind games with me, all while dosing me with fear toxin in the air. Lemme tell you: fear gas does not mix well with the Lazarus pit. It gave me the worst fucking nightmares from my past.” 

His jaw tightened. “...Like beating up Tim inside Titan’s Tower, or confronting Bruce when I came back from the dead. My own birth mother selling me out to the fucking Joker.”

“Jason…” You breathed out, hands desperately tugging him close. “I’m so, so sorry. You know no one blames you for those times, right? The pit rage—”

“They should blame me,” he whispered, voice strained through clenched teeth. “No one should ever forgive me for doing the fucked up things I did. Bruce should’ve never taken me back.” 

He slumped, chin tucked to his chest in defeat. 

“You should’ve never let me touch you. I…” His breath hitched, his whole body shuddering. “I break and ruin everything I touch, and you’ll…you’ll…” He stopped, eyes clenched into tight creases.

“I can’t do that to you, too.”

“You won’t,” you desperately reassured him, running a hand through his hair. “You’ve never hurt me, Jay. You would never let yourself hurt me.”

“And what if one day, I can’t control myself?” Jason asked, despondent. “The hallucinations weren’t just about Tim, and Bruce. There was Dick, and Babs. Roy, and Kori.” He forced his eyes open, and they slid to you. “The things they made my mind think about…”

His expression froze you in place.

The sheer depth of horror and shame in his eyes threatened to engulf you.

“What they made me think of doing to you,” he whispered hoarsely, “I can’t—I would never, I would rather fucking kill myself than hurt you like that, but I can’t stop thinking about it—Can’t stop seeing it every time I close my eyes.” 

He heaved a sob, his large form shaking in your arms. 

“I never want to do that to you. Would never. Never do it. But I can’t—can’t guarantee jack shit with the Pit rage, and you…” 

His hand, trembling, brushed your hair like a feather’s touch. 

“You wouldn’t be able to stop me. I’m too big. Too strong.” He clenched his eyes again, unable to look at you for long without the well of revulsion threatening his throat. “God, the look on your face when he— when I. The image of me— doing that to you, and you. You, broken on the floor—it makes me sick to my stomach.”

Even though he hadn’t outright said it, you knew what he was referring to.

The possibility of being hurt in that specific way was always on your periphery. That a man could always hurt you, and the reality was that there would be very little you could do to prevent or stop it. 

But if there was any man you could trust to never commit such an act, it was the one in your arms.

Shuffling up a little higher on the bed, you gently kissed him on his forehead. His cheeks. His nose. His jaw, which had a hint of stubble growing through from a long day. 

“It’s not real, Jay,” you whispered, nuzzling your face into his. “I promise. Even in the worst of the Pit rage, you never once hurt an innocent person.” You softly smiled against his forehead. “You protected the vulnerable in Crime Alley. You rounded up every bad pimp and threatened them to treat their girls better. You kept the streets clean so children could be safe. You, at your worst, are still a million times better than the fake image the Court made of you. I promise you.”

“Am I?” He looked away, crestfallen. “How can you be sure?”
 
“I know you too well, Jason Todd.” You stroked his cheek, being extra gentle with his scar. “You have such a kind soul. Sometimes, it hurts to know you don’t ever see yourself like that.”

“I’m sorry…” Jason whispered. 

He tucked his face into your neck. 

“I…Shit, I don’t deserve you,” he admitted quietly. “You’re so sweet to me, I’ll never know what I did to get this. To get you in my life.”

“You got me by being you,” you said just as quietly. “Isn’t that enough?”

He pulled back enough to peek up at you, still unsure and reluctant. For being such a large man, he felt so small in your embrace.

Gently stroking his curls, you brushed your lips on his forehead again. You nuzzled noses, while your other hand went to his neck, your thumb rubbing soothing circles.

He closed his eyes and whispered, “...Is this really okay for me to have?”

“Hmm…” You pretended to think. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

Time slowly passed as you held him close, occasionally pressing kisses all over his face and on his lips. It was somewhere around the sixth kiss that he began to reciprocate, hesitantly pressing his lips on yours. You couldn’t help but smile and rest your foreheads together.

“Better?” You whispered.

He let out a sigh of content as you heaped affection upon him. “...Yeah. It’s not so bad now.” His lips twitched in an attempt of a smile. “Promise.”

“Still.” You frowned, leaning in close to steal his lips again. “You’re safe now. No matter what, you are safe here. And I’m safe because of you.” 

His smile was soft, and his eyes warm. 

“I know. You’re home, after all.”

And hearing that almost made you tear up.

This man risked his life day after day, with no guarantees, living a life full of danger and stress and pain. What little you could do to support him paled in comparison. 

To know he considered you as his home…

“I think I love you,” you couldn’t help but whisper, watching as he froze at your admission. “It’s okay if you don’t yet, but after today, I don’t think I can let you go out there without you knowing.”

He scanned you, eyes darting from your earnest expression, to the adoration in your gaze, to the honesty out of your lips. “Yeah..?” He breathed, brows creased, desperately searching for any lies.

You smiled, fragile and cozy. “Yes.”

He surged forward, kissing you with an intensity that left your heart devastatingly unprepared and your lungs begging for mercy. 

Tearing away with a gasp, he stared at you intensely. “Say it again,” he all but demanded, voice barely above a coarse whisper.

“I love you,” you whimpered, right before you fell under his relentless mouth again. 

Your body was heating up, sweat beginning to gather on your forehead and under your layers. The room felt hot and unbearable, and you wanted nothing more than to have your bare skin touch his, to thaw his battle worn spirit and cradle his heart.

“Again.”

Eyes half-lidded and gasping, you licked your lips, tasting the remnants of the chilly air that clung to his skin. “I– Haa– I love you, Jason Todd.”

His eyes clenched shut, and his hands gripped at your sweater, threatening to tear through the fabric. He was breathing so deeply, so forcefully, you worried that he was about to hyperventilate.

“You shouldn’t.”

You frowned. “What? And why not?”

“Because…” He took a deep shaky breath. “Weren’t you listening?” 

He yanked off his sweater, showing his bare chest. “Look at me.” 

His hand shook as it traced the Y-shaped scar that took up a majority of his torso, stretching from above his pecs all the way to his navel.  

“I’m a fucking mess of a human who died and came back to life. Ugly and unnatural,” he spat. “I couldn’t even come back right; I was a walking vegetable until Talia threw me into a Lazarus Pit.” 

He laughed self-deprecatingly.

“I spent two years in a green-fueled rage that I’m still working on controlling.” He stared down at his scarred hands. “I could snap at any time. I—I could lose control, or have a bad day, and hurt you.” 

He grew quiet.

“I could hurt you.”

“Anyone can hurt me at any time, Jason,” you said softly, watching as his gaze snapped up at you, incredulous. “It might not even be you who ends up hurting me. Hell, you’ve never actually hurt me. Not even once in the years I’ve known you, and I’ve only known you after you came back.”
 
Your smile was fragile; hopeful. “I was there during your time as a crime lord. I’ve seen what you can do. And I know you would never want to hurt me. Doesn’t that count for something?”

His arms fell limp. “That’s not enough of a guarantee…” He tried to argue.

You shrugged. “It’s good enough for me. Besides, I can handle a little pain. I like a bad boy, after all.”

“Yeah?” Despite the unimpressed raise of his brow, you could tell he was fighting back a smile. “I don’t think I’ve been a ‘bad boy’ in a while. I haven’t killed or extorted anyone in years.”

“Is this a bad time to confess I thought you were really hot as a crime lord?” You watched him pause. “And I had fantasies of you kidnapping me as leverage against Batman, but I’d charm you with my stellar personality and have you fall for me?”

He stared at you for a long minute, then snorted. “Yeah okay, babe. Maybe we need to have a talk about these kinks of yours.”

Even with his teasing lilt, you were at least relieved to see he wasn't as focused on his insecurities anymore. 

“Orrr, I could demonstrate one of them to you,” you purred, leaning forward.

You could see him fighting with himself and the whiplash you gave him, but you caught a glint of interest in his gaze. “...Yeah?” He said skeptically. “Like what?”

“Hmm…” You tapped your chin. “I think one of them was you…” 

You reached out, lightly grazing your fingertips on his bicep. 

“Dressed as Red Hood, putting me on my knees…” 

Your fingers trailed down his sculpted pecs, brushing ever so gently over his autopsy scar. He flinched ever so slightly with a small, sharp inhale. 

“...And having me worship you.” 

You leaned in closer, noting his heavier breathing and the very obvious tent in his boxers. “Would you like that, darling?” you whispered, gaze half-lidded and biting your lower lip. “Can I have the honor and pleasure of worshiping your glorious, perfect body?”

You watched his throat bob. 

“...Well." He looked down, shy and red. "If...If you're sure."

Grinning, you scooted off the bed and gestured for him to sit at the edge. Even sitting, he was close to your height, making it easy to kiss his lips. 

His body was eager, but his mind was more hesitant on the uptake. He cautiously kissed back, lips chapped but still gentle. 

You knew it would be hard to shake his insecurities, especially about his past and his body. You were his girl though, and that meant supporting him through tough times like these, and making sure he came out of it feeling loved and cherished.

His hands went to your hips, tenderly squeezing them, and you hummed against his mouth. You licked at him, wetting his dry lips, smiling when he parted them and allowed you in his mouth. He tasted like– stale copper, from his violent fight at the top of Elliot Tower. Like salt, from the harsh Gotham winds. 

Like home.

Regrettably leaving his mouth, you began a trail down his neck, softly biting and sucking on the softer skin there. He groaned, his vocal cords vibrating underneath your lips as you kissed his Adam's apple. There was a small scar here, an old knife wound where he got nicked, and you took your time with it, licking it affectionately. 

Your hands caressed his shoulders, rubbing the cool skin until it felt warm under your palms, then moved down to his biceps, his forearms, his hands. Weaving your hands together with his, you held him as your lips reached the beginning of his autopsy scar.

It was large. Raised, healed haphazardly when he woke up in his grave and his body could barely keep itself together. 

The immediate change in skin texture made you soften, made you be gentle, because this scar was proof of Jason’s resurrection. You owe this scar everything.

“You are a miracle, Jason,” you breathed, mouthing the words against the healed skin. “Beautiful, and sweet, and so full of life that you inspire me every day to be better for you.”

His heart thudded painfully next to your ear, his hitched breath above as he listened ardently to your every word. His hands flexed in your hold, and you gripped back.

Your lips slowly made their way down, between his burly pecs, following the split down his amazing abs to his navel. You tongued the dip, teasing it in circles, enjoying the little groans and gasps he made.

“B-Babe…” he all but whimpered, his body surrendering to you like putty, and you purred.

“Yes, my love?” You mouthed at his Adonis belt, your tongue tracing—No, worshiping the contours of his pelvis and the veins that led under his boxers.

Jason shuddered at the endearing moniker. 

Something long and hard tapped at your cheek. You nuzzled against it, feeling his cock twitch underneath the strained fabric.

“You really love me?” He asked coarsely, staring at you with glazed eyes, his pupils blown until you could only see a ring of blue and green.

“Very much so,” you answered sincerely.

The honest-to-god blush that rose to his face was adorable, and a sight you vowed silently to keep reenacting, because he deserved it. He deserved to be able to blush so cutely, to be confessed to, and to be cherished. 

Licking your lips, you pulled down his boxers, freeing his erection. It bounced up, virile red and raring to go, if the precum on top was any indication. 

The smell of sweat, laundry detergent, and pure masculine musk came together into a heady concoction to your senses, making you near dizzy with want. Some animalistic part of you was clawing up into the surface of your brain, demanding you to devour this fine specimen of male perfection. 

“God, look at you,” you breathed. Your exhale made it twitch, much to your delight, and the embarrassed look on Jason’s face didn’t help. You gently took hold of it with one hand, your fingers brushing its silky soft skin. “You have such a pretty cock, Jay. Look at that shade of red,” you cooed, your thumb rubbing the underside of his shaft.

“P-Pretty?” Jason sputtered, cheeks almost as red as his other head.

“Mhm…” You leaned forward and licked off the pearl of precum on his slit, relishing the moan he let out. “And big. You know, there was a social media trend where girlfriends would match their lipstick to the color of their boyfriend’s tip.” As you pouted your lips on the head of his cock, you slowly slid your gaze upward to meet his. “I think I want to do that, too. Do you think I’d look pretty with this color, Jay?”

He held a hand over his mouth. “Fuck…” 

He couldn’t look away from your lips giving his cock little butterfly kisses, his eyes darting from the flushed tip to your mouth and envisioning the same shade. 

“Yes,” he uttered in a daze, “yes, you’d look fucking gorgeous. Lips so red you’d look like you’ve been blowing me for hours.”

Hours? Your breathing quickened at the thought.

Somehow, his answer opened the floodgates, because his hand was on top of your head, large and heavy, guiding you down to his cock. 

Your mouth watered as your nose pressed right up against his shaft, getting a full whiff of his musk.

“I want your mouth on me,” he confessed in a rush, voice so low he was all but growling his deepest, darkest secrets. “I want to see you take every inch, want to see your lips stretch around it. Get that pretty face of yours all red and out of breath. Fuck, I can’t decide if I want you to swallow my load or cum all over your face and make a mess of you.” 

Unbidden, you clenched your thighs together. Because those words? Went straight to your pussy. 

Opening your mouth, you dragged your tongue on the underside of his shaft, starting from the base and up to the head, leaving a glistening line of saliva. He shuddered under you while you slowly, finally, took him into your mouth. His girth was impressive, stretching your mouth just the way he wanted as you bobbed up and down. Inch by inch. Like territory conquered, covered in your drool. 

His thighs on either side of your head were tense, corded muscles pressing against the surface of his skin. The hand on your head didn’t push, but neither did it let you come back up. His other hand was busy scrunching the bedsheet, gripping tightly for dear life.

You took a deep breath as soon as he hit the back of your throat, fighting down your gag reflex. 

It was still another inch or two, maybe three or four. You sure weren’t counting because he was just big and hung, and having a cock heavy on your tongue was doing things to you. Or maybe it was being this close to the base of his cock, so close to the patch of curls that smelled so strongly of him. Or just the taste of him in your mouth, of salty skin and satin texture.

“Fuck, your mouth feels divine,” Jason gasped, abs flexing intensely with every breath. 

You preened under his words. Placing your hands on his thick thighs at either side of you, you took a deep breath and sucked hard, and god was it worth it when Jason shouted a moan so ragged that it felt like his soul was bursting out of his chest.

“Haa…F-Fuck, hell of a first blowjob I’m getting,” Jason panted, unable to look away from the sight of your cheeks hollowing around him.

It was only a few seconds before you had to come back up for air, but you didn’t pull off completely. Oh no, you let his cock rest on your tongue while you slowly breathed through your nose. Then, when you felt him relax again, you went back down, the tip almost hitting the back of your throat, while one of your hands went down to his balls, gently teasing him.

The hand on your head tightened; you could feel just how much he was restraining himself from just pushing your head down and making you take him all the way again. 

Honestly, it was sweet of him, and very hot that he was taking you into so much consideration. 

You should reward him for such good behavior.

So up and down you went, your lips pressed tightly around his girth while your tongue slavered, drool coating the entirety of his shaft from how much you were salivating. Maybe it was his smell, or his taste, or just his reactions—the way he was gasping and moaning while letting you take the reins—but you couldn’t get enough of it. 

You could feel it twitch, more and more often the longer you went on, throbbing hotly against the walls of your mouth, and the way his broad chest heaved was indicative he was close.

“Mm, mm…mm..mm…” was all you could utter, moaning filthily like a whore from having a big cock in your mouth. Your hand went down into your pants, dipping two fingers into your wet pussy without a second to wait and fucking yourself in time with each bob of your head.

“C-Cum, gonna cum..!” Jason hissed through his teeth, abdomen muscles tensing in a mouth-watering sight while sweat poured down his body. “Fuck, Fuck—!”

You didn’t pull off. 

Instead, you went down further, taking him all the way in, every single inch, and swallowed, your throat squeezing his cock. The resounding “fuck!” above you happened a second before pure hot liquid warmed your throat. 

You pulled back a bit, his cock spurting into your mouth proper instead, and you hummed contently.

The only thing that could be heard in his cramped room was his heaving breaths.

His cock slowly relaxed, growing flaccid with each second passing, and you carefully eased off, dragging your lips with every inch you went, until it fell out of your mouth. 

Then, you looked up, at his reddened face and gasping chest, and parted your lips, showing the mess he made.

His eyes went wide, pupils blown, and he leaned in closer. 

“Fuck, that’s hot…” he muttered, eyeing how red your lips were from exertion, how his cum painted the inside of your mouth in sticky strings, at the pool sitting at the bottom, cupped in your tongue. 

And then you swallowed the load, and he choked.

“Yummy,” you said, your lips curling into an impish smile.

“Never mind what I said earlier today,” Jason said, dazed, “you’re going to kill me.”

“It’ll be a good way to go.” You chuckled. “But I’ll try to keep you alive, just barely.”

He couldn’t help but snort. “I’ll do my best to return the favor then.” He eyed you, and your hand that was under your pants. “Speaking of…”

You blinked, and in a matter of seconds, Jason had hauled you up into his lap, with your legs on either side of him. You felt your heart skip a beat from being picked up like you weighed nothing, and then his large hand slipped under your pants alongside yours. 

You had no choice but to pull yours out with the lack of room, and yelped when his fingers found your drenched pussy lips.

“You’re so wet,” Jason marveled, leaning forward to catch your retreating hand in his mouth and sucking off your fingers. “God, you taste so good every time. I can’t get enough of this pussy.”

You couldn’t help but whimper at his words, even more so when he unceremoniously inserted two of his much bigger fingers into you, thrusting them immediately without a second to waste. “J-Jason!” 

“Yeah baby, call my name,” he panted, licking off the rest of your juices from your fingers, “I want to hear everything while I fuck you with my fingers. Be as loud as you want.”

The thought of being so loud that the others could hear had you shivering, in both arousal and embarrassment, and you shook your head. “It’s—The room isn’t soundproof–”

“Fuck if I care anymore,” Jason growled, and then his thumb pressed firmly on your clit.

You shrieked, pussy clenching tight around his fingers. Your whole body was bouncing from the force of his hand, your hands gripping his shoulders for support, and the sound. God, the sound.

The utterly filthy squelching as his fingers fucked your wet pussy was the loudest noise in the room, next to your moans.

As soon as he sped up on your clit, you lost it, your moan so high-pitched you almost went silent, your thighs shaking around his hand while your pussy squeezed his fingers. Your whole body was trembling, head thrown back, his hand on your back the only reason you didn’t fall. 

Gasping for dear breath, you collapsed on him, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“I guess we’re all warmed up now.” Jason chuckled while slowly easing his fingers out of you.

You weakly smacked his arm.

But the sweet, adoring smile on his face made it all worth it, and you couldn’t help but kiss him again.

“Love you,” you whispered.

His eyes slid shut, and he exhaled, content.

Even though he hadn’t said it back, you knew better, and you were happy.

Chapter Text

Eyes slowly cracking open, Jason let out the tiniest of sighs and leaned in closer to you, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. He didn’t know what time it was, but he felt rested enough to slave through another night for Gotham.

His arms squeezed, keeping you close, before he reluctantly climbed out of the cramped bed to answer nature’s call.

“Mm…” He heard behind him. “Jay...?”

“Just going to the bathroom, babe. Go back to sleep,” he softly threw over his shoulder.

“Don’t take too long…” you said with a yawn, before rolling over in bed and hugging his pillow.

You were so fucking cute.

Every fiber of his being felt fuzzy, warm, maybe a little embarrassed, but as soon as he closed the door to the bathroom, closed the door to you, everything cut out, like an aux cord being removed. Silence reigned as loud as a fluorescent light bulb buzzing in the back of his head.

As he washed his hands, he stared at his reflection in the tiny, cracked mirror. Looked at the sharp angles of his face, the shadows under his eyes, the scar that defined his death, the stark white against jet black that defined his new life.

Jason didn’t know what he did to deserve you.

He certainly knew what he did to not deserve you. 

There was him blackmailing the Gotham gang leaders, illegal drug trading and trafficking around the world while he was under Talia’s tutelage, the murders he had committed. 

Trying to kill his father who was your mentor. 

Hurting Tim just because he was the new Robin, when all Tim wanted was to honor his legacy and not let Bruce become a depressed mess after his death. 

Trying to destroy the family when he came back. Forcing them all to fight him, to hate him, to feel something toward him that was proof he was alive and breathing and angry and hurt.

Even you.

It was only a few years ago, back when the Pit rage was still tugging at his every nerve, that Bruce brought you into the fold. 

Jason had been the last of the family to meet you, for obvious reasons in hindsight, but just knowing Bruce continued to treat him like a rabid dog on a leash had been grating-hurting-preening. 

The only man he ever considered a real father didn’t trust him, and now there was another member of the family for him to use as an excuse to ignore Jason again, not knowing what to do with the son he had mourned and the stranger that had come back in his skin.

In truth, Jason had wanted to hurt you just for that. For potentially being another excuse for Bruce to push him away. Yet another thing to feed the Pit rage. Wanted to tear you limb from limb, skin you raw until you had no choice but to acknowledge how fucked up he was, how life had screwed him over and over.

He didn’t know how you could still want him.

His own birth mother didn’t want him. His first father hadn’t wanted him—made sure he knew, with every bruise, every scream, every beer bottle thrown. His second father, well…

There were days when Bruce looked at him, looked through him, for the younger Jason that had died that day in Ethiopia. The Jaylad that Jason barely remembered—barely acknowledged as his past, because there was such a jarring dissonance between Jason Todd before dying and Jason Todd after clawing his way out of the Pit screaming.

One moment, he had been hurting and resigned to death, his father being too late to save him.

The next, he was burning—burning so hot, so much taller-bigger-angrier.

Because he was Wrong—came back wrong, did the wrong things, said the wrong things, hurt the wrong people. Everything he touched, everything he went near, he ruined. This was something he knew to be true, down to the marrow in his bones.

But you had been different, because you never knew the Jason Todd that existed before death, before the Joker. The young boy who grinned and beat up bad guys because he wanted to be a hero to the weak. You had only ever known Jason Todd postmortem, with the anger that clouded his eyes, the green that burned in his veins, and the blood that coated his body.

You had seen him at his absolute worst, saw him at the lowest point where he was breathing in more gunpowder than air, and still. Still, you reached out. 

It was slow at first, crawling at a snail’s pace. A bottle of water here and there, a towel left out when he was working through his rage on the punching bag. You would say hi, he would grunt back. 

But then there was a case, one that he personally worked on because it involved a child from Crime Alley. A little girl. Everyone else was too busy, other cases had priority, whatever the fucking excuse was.

You had been the one to dig up grainy footage of Professor Pyg on that same night and had sent him the coordinates. It was the first time you had ever reached out to him, one-on-one.

Jason had barged into that makeshift surgery room just in time to see her arm get sawed off, and would’ve killed Pyg right then and there if Batman hadn’t physically intervened, pulling him away after beating his face in.

It was you, one week later, who had visited that girl in the hospital with a custom 3D printed prosthetic, that had made him start seeing you. Start observing you.

Started thinking of you as more than just another face in the cog of the Bat family. Watching you do your part around the Cave, helping everyone with upgrading their equipment. And yet, you lingered on the sides, never feeling like you truly belonged, never feeling like you deserved to call yourself a Bat as the others did.

It was similar enough to his circumstances that he decided, against his instincts, against everything inside of him that banged on the bars of his cage, to give you a chance.

And it was the best and worst decision he had ever made in his life.

Best, because opening up to you meant he opened up to the rest of the family. Made amends with Bruce—clumsily and awkward and so many tears and bruised knuckles. Finally gave Dick a chance to be his big brother again. Apologized to Tim for treating him so badly at Titan’s Tower. Acknowledged the trauma that had been dealt to them both with Barbara. Even cooked with Alfred again. 

Became friends with you. More than friends—better than friends, being able to hold your hand and kiss your face and take your lips for himself. To have you in his arms, hold you close and never let go, to sup on your body, your essence, and be gifted in kind, was a euphoria he had never thought he would get, in this life or the previous.

Worst, because now he had something to lose. So much to lose. So much to hurt, to break, to ruin with his own hands that had already hurt so many. His own family. The people dearest to him, who had given him chance after chance, even after all the bullets and sutures and bruises. 

Because you were fragile. You weren’t a Bat that faced combat. You were their support, their maintenance. Their weak link. You had no experience in an actual fight, no backup plans. 

He could hurt you so easily. Crush you without effort. You wouldn’t even be able to fight back. 

His hands gripping your neck—your cries of pain, of terror—his grunts, the sick grin on his face—his pleasure, your suffering—

Shuddering violently, Jason gripped the sides of the sink until his knuckles went white and the porcelain creaked ominously. Bile threatened to burn the back of his throat.

“Fucking Court of Owls…” he muttered under his breath.

He turned on the sink and splashed his face. Once, twice, until even the front of his shirt was drenched in his desperation to wash away the visions they had forced him to see.

And even so, you had told him you loved him.

You placed your heart in his dirty, monstrous, calloused hands. 

And it hurt. God, it fucking hurt so bad to feel hope in his chest, burning inside his rib-cage, at the thought of being loved by you. How could you look at him, at all his scars that marred his body, at all his flaws and awful attitude, and still love him?

How did you see a monster that towered over you in height, weight, and strength, who reveled in violence and brutality, and see someone worthy?

Jason stared into the mirror.

How did you see a man that was worthy of your love?

Because he would really like to be able to see him, too.

It was a quiet night, so much so that every instinct in him was on edge, arm hairs rising from danger, as he slowly took off his gear. 

He would normally still be out on patrol, beating up Freaks, Regulators, Mobs, Assassins, Talons, whoever decided to show up, and yet, here he was at the Belfry, already retiring for the night. 

Only Nightwing was still out, and he too was finishing up in his sector. 

With all the factions digging their greedy claws into the city, there shouldn’t be this much quiet.

But there wasn’t anything he could do about it at the moment.

With a sigh, Jason walked out of the bathroom with a towel still around his shoulders and into the Belfry proper. The meticulous sound of your typing echoed through the otherwise quiet area, alongside the gentle humming of the supercomputers that monitored the whole city and then some.

“Alright, head back in for the night,” you spoke into your headpiece. “I’m not seeing any more alerts, and Dr. Thompkins just sent in a message, saying the organ has reached her clinic…Any injuries?...Copy that, Nightwing. Out.”

Jason took the time to observe you in your environment. Focused, cool headed, and quick to offer support. It was these qualities that had convinced Bruce to bring you into the family, and they had all reaped the benefits.

You quickly took note of the large shadow behind you and turned around with a smile. “Hi Jay. How was your shower?”

Just seeing your smile had his heart thumping a little faster, his face a little hotter. 

“Good,” he answered succinctly, bending down to give you a peck on the lips. 

He could feel your smile widen, and god wasn’t that just crazy to think about.

The dainty blush on your cheeks had him grinning, and he bundled you into his arms, lifting you from the chair. “C’mon, I’m starving. Let’s see what’s left in the fridge.”

“Jay, I can walk,” you complained, even as you wrapped your arms around his neck and he carried you to the kitchenette bridal style.

“And I can bench press more than three times your size,” Jason replied easily, putting you down gently in your chair before throwing open the fridge for the wrapped plates of whatever Alfred had made in the early evening. 

Roast chicken and vegetable medley, hell yeah.

Jason dug right in after they were microwaved, but you took your time, watching him eat with a small content smile on your face.

He couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, slowing down even though he only had a few bites left. “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Just admiring my handsome hero,” was your soft reply. “You did good work today.”

Handsome? Hero? Jason couldn’t help but feel the hot blush on his face. 

As much as he tried to do good, he still couldn’t shake off the imposter syndrome he felt. That he was just another violent man on the streets sometimes.

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat. “Activity seems real low today. Any reason why?”

You sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know. It feels like the eye of the storm, right? Everyone is holding their breaths, biding their time until their plans come into fruition. There’s no way any of our enemies are pulling back right now, even if it was the logical solution.”

Noticing that he had finished off the last of his food, you pushed your half-finished plate in his direction.

“We know there’s a Lazarus Pit somewhere,” you continued, while Jason ate your portion, “we just need to find where, and get there before…everyone else,” you said while rolling your eyes.

“Someone give us a miracle,” Jason said dryly.

“I would say we should ask the Justice League for help, but…” you huffed and crossed your arms. “Bruce must’ve instilled more into me than I thought, because I don’t want non-Gothamites to deal with Gotham problems.”

Jason nodded sagely. “Good shit, babe. Besides, I don’t think we’re doing too bad at the moment. Got allies, got gear, and we’ve got the drive. So long as we focus on damage control and civilian exfil, we could just let the two dipshit organizations take each other out.”

You hummed, thoughtful. “Not a bad idea. If we have Montoya convince the police force to deal with the street gangs, we can focus on taking down the Court and the League. Find Talia and…” You hesitated. “Have we…Have we talked about what we should do about her?”

Jason fell silent.

He honestly didn’t know. She had to be stopped; that wasn’t up for debate. But did that mean taking her out permanently? She hadn’t always been this bad. There had been a shred of humanity in her, especially due to her past relationship with Bruce.

“Are you asking that because she’s Bruce’s ex?” Jason cautiously asked.

You looked down at your hands. “...Yeah, I guess so. He always looked so sad when she came up in conversation. I-I think he really loved her.” Your hands tightened around each other, knuckles white. “I can’t imagine throwing that away and betraying someone I love in the worst way possible, like she did.”

“Yeah?” Jason uttered absently, gaze turned downward at his own hands. 

He didn’t know how she could do it, but then again, what did he know about loving someone like that?

He glanced over at you, at the conflicted expression you wore, and the way you gripped your hands.

Did he love you? Was what he felt for you enough? 

Did he deserve to love you?

Did he have the right to love you?

Him, a murderer and criminal from a dirt-poor background, who’s legally deceased and can’t offer you anything aside from his body; the body that he can’t even trust sometimes?

You, the hard worker with a brain for tech, who worked support as easy as breathing, juggling vigilantism with college classes and a regular civilian life, and could do so much better than him?

It was at this moment that he realized how far out of his league you were. The distance between you two was, in reality, less than a meter, and yet it felt like a yawning chasm. 

Fuck.

Why were you even dating him?

You looked up for a moment and caught his gaze. “You okay, baby?” You asked, brows creased with concern.

“I…” The words felt stuck, half-formed, not enough. “Y-Yeah, I’m good.” He rubbed his eyelid, pressing his knuckle in. “I’m just tired, or something.”

Can’t even come up with a good excuse. 

“Jay…” You delicately reached out and gently took hold of his arm, guiding it away from further abusing his eye. “You know you can talk to me, right?” You smiled softly. “You know I love you, and hey—” you quickly added when he opened his mouth, “I know you’re not used to it, that maybe we’re moving too fast, but I really do. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same yet—”

“No, it’s not,” Jason interrupted sharply, his eyes widening when he realized he had spoken out loud. 

“No…?” You repeated, the hurt in your eyes sending a sharp ache into his chest.

“No, I mean…” With a rough sigh, he put his head in his hands. “I just mean, you know, it’s not okay that I…I’m not at that with you, when you are.”

You frowned. “But it is. Our relationship is still pretty new, so I don’t blame you. I…” A light pink dusted your cheeks. “I did tell you I’ve had a crush on you for years, right? So loving you was just one more step in the same direction.” Your expression smoothed out into a small but heartfelt smile. “It was only natural to fall for you.”

“But, what if you…” He hesitated, trying to swallow around the growing lump in his throat. “What if…”

“If…?” You encouraged.

His jaw tightened. “What if I do something that makes you…not like me anymore?” 

He couldn’t even say the word ‘love’ with you. Pathetic.

You actually looked amused of all things. “Jay, did you forget I had a crush on you when you were actively killing criminals in Gotham? I don’t think there’s really anything you could do that would make me fall out of love with you.”

“We still gotta talk about your kinks, babe,” he muttered under his breath before clearing his throat. “I just—you know. Talia was the one who resurrected me. She’s the one who trained me in League techniques and styles. Caught me up to speed before unleashing me in Gotham. Maybe I…” He shrugged, despondent. “Maybe I take after her more than you think.”

“Do you?” You asked so softly he had to strain his ears to catch it. “I don’t know much about her, but I’d like to think I know a lot about you, and what I do know, I love. What I don’t know? I’ll also learn to love. I love you, Jason.”

He looked up at you, unable to help the vulnerable shudder in his chest. “...Yeah?” He asked, voice weak.

You nodded. “Bruce was still in love with her til the day he died. It’ll be the same for us.” Your hand reached out and placed itself atop of his, squeezing gently. “I’ll be here, with you. No matter what.”

Jason felt his breath leave him, and he moved your hands to squeeze it in his own, much larger one, feeling your more fragile fingers against his.

A vow to him, in so many words. Swearing fealty, dedicating your heart.

Your beautiful heart. So full of kindness, sass, mischief, and wisdom. Of sadness that he wished he could take away. Of righteous anger, which he would fan the flames and be your personal attack dog. 

It was this tenacity, this absolute belief you had in him, that he couldn't get. He couldn't understand what was there to love about him. Why you loved him. Why you would swear to be by his side until the day you died.

But he would treasure it all the same. Hold it close so you couldn't escape. Couldn't leave. Keep you safe, and do his best to deserve you.

If Bruce could still love Talia after she betrayed him and returned to her lethal ways, and Talia had loved him even now, years later, where she would even attend his funeral, then Jason had a chance to do things differently with you.

Because you were many things, but you weren't a liar; at least to him. You wouldn't lie about loving him, about all these qualities you saw in him. And if he couldn't find it in himself to believe in it, he could at least believe in you.

And maybe one day, with your support and love, he would see it too, and finally let himself love you back.

Chapter Text

The moon was bright.

Rain splattered onto concrete in a constant, never ending pitter patter, diluting the polluted city into a slightly more tolerable state. The factories kept running, the businesses stayed lit, but the world was a little cleaner tonight.

As the rain continued its ceaseless torrent, the clear waters blended with small rivulets of bright red, dyeing the rooftop of the hospital. 

You stared up at the dark clouds covering the night sky that hid the moon away, and as you grew soaked to the bone, you fought to stay as still as you could.

You didn’t want to attract the Man Bat circling in the sky.

Four Hours Earlier

Robin and Batgirl had successfully searched through Arkham Asylum for the rest of Langstrom’s research, and had found their path impeded by Talons. Their presence meant they were on the right track, because it then turns out Talia had been Langstrom’s mysterious benefactor. All the equipment, the space, the resources. He who’s research had been focused around animals, suspended in green liquid.

Really, it felt a bit obvious in hindsight, but, well. Occam’s Razor.

At the very top of the asylum, where there was once a lighthouse that shined upon the dark Gotham harbor, were a series of computers that created a unique sound wave, likely heard by certain mammals due to its decibel.

When the sound of fighting began, you shot up from your seat and watched the monitors that led into their optical feed, unblinking. “Batgirl? Robin?” You called into your mic. “Respond!”

Only dead static met your ears, and you quickly changed channels.

“Red Hood, Nightwing, I need you two to head straight to the Asylum, stat.”

“The fuck happened?” Asked Red Hood.

“Some sort of mutant…thing,” you replied, grim. “Robin yelled about it being a large bat before they started fighting, and now both of them are out of commission. Thankfully, I don’t hear any other sounds or see anything moving from their cameras, so it looks like they killed it?”

“I’m on it, ETA five minutes on bike,” came Nightwing’s response.

Red Hood sighed. “ETA eight minutes. I’ll bring some extra firepower in case it's still alive.”

“Thanks, Belfry out.”

The dark moonless night didn’t help with visual clarity at all, even when you changed the camera into AR mode. All you could see was that it was big, unnatural, and unmoving. The camera did detect a heart beat, which meant it was still alive. Where were they going to keep it, though? There was no way the GCPD was equipped to handle this thing, and neither could Blackgate. If you still had the Batcave, you could've put it there... 

Thankfully, both Nightwing and Red Hood arrived in record time, and collected Batgirl and Robin’s unconscious bodies before calling the BatGlider for a Fulton recovery. 

You watched through Red Hood's helmet camera as he kicked at the creature. “The hell is this thing?”

Nightwing’s feed showed him walking up next to Hood to also examine the creature. “Looks like a…bat? Man?”

“Batman?” You asked, unimpressed.

“No, more like a…man bat? Thing?” Nightwing said, sounding just as confused.

You paused.

“Okay well, for lack of better names, we’ll just call it Manbat for now,” you said with a sigh, creating a new file for it in the system. “I’m assuming this is what Langstrom was working on, before his death.”

“Looks right at home with his other test tube babies, yeah,” said Hood.

“And it arrived as soon as Robin got the sound wave to work, so the sound must be some kind of signal. Something Talia programmed into it? If the Court gets their hands on this, it'll be a disaster. Can we grab any samples? Skin, hair, teeth?”

The two vigilantes paused, and glanced at each other. It was kind of funny to see both monitors look at each other like that.

“...We’ll see what we can do,” said Nightwing, reluctant.

“Thanks, boys,” you replied dryly. “Make sure to grab whatever data is on top of the lighthouse and then destroy it. We don't want anyone waking this thing up.”

"And what are we supposed to do with it?" Hood asked bluntly. "It's not like we've got a cage big enough for this thing lyin' around."

Another pause.

Honestly, there was no good solution here.

"What if we...drag it into the deeper cells in Arkham?" Nightwing suggested, giving both of you a helpless shrug when the camera turned to him. "We can lock the door for now and come back for it."

One of the side computers beeped, the camera showing the Batglider landing on the roof. 

"I shall retrieve Ms. Gordon and Master Tim," Alfred announced, already holding the emergency med-kit.

"Got it, Alfred." You turned back to the monitors in front of you. "Go ahead, Nightwing. It's the best plan we have for now, and the priority is Batgirl and Robin."

Red Hood rolled his shoulders as he approached the motionless mound. "Time to put these muscles to good use. Grab the other arm, Dickwing."

"Aw, don't call me that! You know I don't like it..."

"Belfry out," you announced into your headset before going to help Alfred.

Two fractured ribs for Tim, and a dislocated shoulder and twisted ankle for Barbara. All of which meant they were benched until they recovered. They would be unhappy about the news if they were conscious, but unfortunately the fight with a Meta? Experiment? Mutated creature? Had left them both knocked out until further notice.

You tried not to worry, but having two out of four fighters out of commission was going to make any upcoming situations riskier. If anything was going to happen, it was going to happen tonight, especially if their enemies had noticed the Manbat as well. You didn't know what you would do if Dick or god forbid Jason got hurt, too. Gotham was depending on all of you to protect it.

It was moments like these that made you regret not taking up Bruce's offer for combat training. You could've been so much better as an operative.

While Alfred tended to the injured at the makeshift med bay, you, Jason, and Dick got to work on analyzing Manbat’s samples.

Jason zoomed in on the microscope, humming. “Doesn’t look any different from regular cells to me, except they’ve got the good ole Lazarus glow to them.”

“I don’t think that’s all,” Dick added, testing his own sample. “This looks…human. I think Manbat used to be human.”

“Who, though?” You couldn’t help but ask. “Were they a Talon? A League assassin? Or one of Langstrom’s volunteers?”

“We can run a scan of Langstrom’s volunteers and compare them to the GCPD’s missing persons list,” Jason suggested idly, focused on his findings. “But my money is on League assassin. Wouldn’t surprise me if Talia uses her own people for experiments with the Pit.” His tone turned bitter. "She's done it before, after all."

"Jay..." You murmured, putting a hand on his bicep.

Jason glanced at you and gave you a muted smile and a halfhearted shrug.

Pursing your lips, you leaned in and gently kissed his cheek. The resulting rosy hue that appeared on his face, paired with the softening of his features just for you, was worth it.

Dick hummed, moving back from his workstation to do a handstand. Apparently it helped him think better. “Have we got a location on the Lazarus Pit in Gotham yet?”

“Only that it’s underground,” you replied with a sigh. “The Court’s drilling operation was only a small portion of it. The real thing might be even deeper down…” 

You paused and slowly looked up, and the other two looked at you. All three of you had the same look on your faces.

“Where do we know that runs that deep underground here in Gotham?” Jason asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“The Batcave,” Dick answered grimly, flipping back onto his feet.

Just in time for the computers to start blaring red with several pop ups. Hurrying to the keyboard, you began responding to them, reading through them quickly.

“Multiple sightings of Manbats?!” You shouted, staring in disbelief. You threw your hands up in the air. “Of course there’s more than one! Why would things ever be easy?”

Alfred stepped away from the Belfry’s infirmary, drying his hands. “Unfortunately, Master Tim and Miss Gordon will be out of commission for a while,” he grimly informed you all. “Master Richard and Master Jason will be our only operatives tonight.”

Jason rolled his shoulder, cracking his neck side-to-side. “I’m always up to kick some ass.”

“Be careful,” you warned. “Just one of them took out Babs and Tim. It’ll be best if you guys took them down one by one together. We can’t afford to lose you two as well.”

“We got this,” Dick assured you. “Just stay inside until we report back in.”

Despite their confidence and reassurances, your insides felt wrung out with anxiety. Dread loomed down at your neck, like a predator just waiting to snap its jaws.

Something inside you knew tonight was the night where everything was going to get worse.

Reluctantly, you placed yourself back in the computer chair and helped monitor the situation. The first sighting for Manbat was all the way at Southside, down at WayneTech. People reported seeing something large in the sky, blocking out the moon, with eerie screeching that echoed throughout the tech district. As Nightwing and Red Hood steadily made their way downtown, you kept your eye on local social media, as well as the GCPD's systems, to see if anyone else could pinpoint a more accurate location for the other Manbats. 

One had been bad enough. It had taken out two of your friends—both of them highly competent vigilantes—and could've permanently taken them out. With four Manbats on the loose over the city? You could only hope the Justice League would respond fast enough if the need outweighed your egos.

As the hour slowly passed by while you sat hunched over at the keyboard, your phone suddenly vibrated.

Your hands slowed as you eyed it. No one was supposed to be able to contact you right now. Your civilian friends had stopped trying weeks ago, and anyone within the Hero community would have their messages rerouted and screened through a special Bat program designed by Tim to weed out spam. 

Apprehensive, you picked up your phone and looked at the screen.

A blacked-out number.

Encrypted.

-Exit the Belfry.-

Your blood felt cold in your veins, and loud in your ears. No one was supposed to know what the Belfry was. Nor were they supposed to have your number. This was a clear threat from one of your enemies, no doubt. Was it the Court? Or the League?

Knowing the Court, they'd just send Talons to do their dirty work. They wouldn't resort to blackmail; it was too much unnecessary work. Any information they would've had on the Bats had died with Jacob Kane, in some twisted form of familial loyalty to Bruce. So, they wouldn't know what the Belfry was, and they wouldn't know about you.

Therefore...

You directed your gaze toward the glass face of the clock tower, knowing somewhere just outside, she was waiting.

Not even Alfred and his trusty shotgun could take her on, if it came down to it.

You glanced toward the infirmary, at Barbara’s and Tim’s limp bodies on the beds, and the many wrinkles on Alfred’s face from a lifetime of stress and facing the unknown regarding his loved ones. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you silently approached. Gently brushing Tim's hair out of his face. Adjusting Barbara's legs so they would lay more comfortably.

Alfred watched you wearily from his seat. "...Do not risk yourself, miss," he whispered, gaze lowering to the floor. "It would not be what Ms. Gordon and Master Tim wants. Nor would it be what Master Dick and what Master Jason wants. Especially Master Jason."

Your clenched your jaw, lips firmly shut. Of course, Alfred would somehow know even without having seen the message. He knew everything, after all. 

And yet, you couldn't obey his wishes. You couldn't put them all in danger like this. There were no good choices left. Nightwing and Red Hood had a higher priority to the city than to you. Manbat was a bigger threat. Batgirl and Robin could not fight. Alfred could not fight. You could not fight. If it meant she would leave them alone, you would gladly trade yourself over.

So, you gave Alfred a long hug, and then, with a thin smile, headed toward the elevator.

The streets were quieter than usual due to the rampant uptick in violence, with nary a soul out in the open. Even the street lights and LED signs felt dimmer tonight, under the heavy weight of the League's threat.

Stepping out of the hidden entrance, you walked with purpose out into the open. 

One second, you could see the flashing lights of Downtown.

The next, nothing.

Darkness enshrouded your vision, coating your senses like a cloying parasite. Something attacked you, or someone. Several someones, judging by the many hands hauling you wherever you were going. 

Shouting.

You didn’t understand any of it.

Pain. Stinging, searing, all-consuming pain.

It felt like it lasted forever...

You were only woken up when a drop of rain hit your eyelid, and the inhuman screech that followed.

"Good evening."

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking in a shaky breath. Everything hurt. "...Good evening, Talia," you whispered.

A figure stepped into your line of sight, and your eyes slowly slid to her.

The moonlight gently lit up her face, caressing her sharp cheekbones and the arch of her nose. Long brown hair blew elegantly in the wind, and even the rain itself seemed to avoid drenching her, as if her very presence could repel nature itself. Tall and slender and powerful and beautiful.

Talia Al-Ghul was truly one of a kind.

It was no wonder your mentor had fallen in love with her.

She observed you for a several long, silent moments. "...I had wondered about you," she mused. "Why my Beloved would choose to bring a non-combatant into his fold, I would never know. Why not train you? Bring you to your full potential?"

You licked your lips, tasting the ozone-flavored rain. "Honestly? I wish he did train me to fight. He wanted at least one of us to be...more normal. Safer, to anchor everyone else." You coughed, and the force echoed through your body, inflaming the open wounds on your back. 

"Another Pennyworth, then," Talia surmised, unimpressed. "How foolish of him. Yet another decision he made in ignorance. Truly, his obstinate wish to be so naive to the world should've been rectified years ago."

You huffed. "When has Bruce ever listened," you stated dryly. "You should know better. Weren't you in love with him?"

Her gaze sharpened, cutting through you like her assassins had earlier. "...I expected you to understand better, considering you hold the same affections for Jason." She then crouched on her knees, her voice closer than before. "Love should not blind you to the failings of the other. You should expect perfection."

You watched her dully. "Perfection doesn't exist. You should know that. Ra's thought of himself as perfect, didn't he? But you know he was far from it."

You didn't know where this vitriol stemmed from, whether it was from you wounds, your exhaustion, or your disgust with the person in front of you, but you couldn't stop yourself. This was the woman who left your mentor sad and bereft? This was the woman who should've been fighting at the Bat's side instead of against him? This was the woman who helped bring Jason back to life?

Why couldn't she see? See how wonderful life would've been?

"You could've been so much better," you croaked, your vision blurring. Was it the rain, or the disappointment. "You could've been on our side, with Bruce, with our family. But you chose this."

Her expression turned stony, and she stood up to her full height. "...I've heard enough. You're but a child, with a child's understanding of the world. You don't know any better. Like Jason, death should not be the end for a great man like Bruce."

With a turn on her heel, she disappeared in a flash of black smoke, leaving you alone on the cold, wet roof.

Well, you thought as the Manbat screeched in the sky, almost alone.

So here you were, drenched head to toe while laying on the roof of the Gotham General hospital, barely breathing or moving to avoid attracting the giant predator’s attention. 

The minutes slowly passed, until you lost track of time as cold cold cold took over your extremities.

Maybe in another life, Talia could’ve been good. 

You had always wondered, after reading the files. Bruce tried to convince her to leave her life in the League behind, to defeat Ra’s together. Maybe they could’ve had a family, like Bruce had always wished. Maybe a son. A little baby bat. 

But Talia had laughed in his face regarding Jason’s resurrection. She had secreted him away for years, nursing the Pit rage to turn him against Bruce. Because she had never been satisfied with Bruce’s vision for peace and justice.

And now she turned her sights onto you and your little family. To hurt you all like she hurt your mentor. Something was broken in that woman, and she wanted to break you all the same way.

For all the pain she had caused, for all the hate and betrayal, you still couldn’t help but feel sad. 

The only thing that worried you now was how long you could last, given that you were slowly but steadily bleeding out. Out in the cold November rain, all while a giant mutated monster could swoop down any second to either eat you, maul you, or pick you up to drop you from the sky.

You wondered how Dick and Jason were faring with the other Manbats in the city.

You wondered how Tim and Barbara were, given that they would wake up to find you gone.

You wondered about Alfred, how much more he could take while he watched the people he cared about die around him, one by one over the many years of his life.

You thought about yourself.

How you got here. 

You were so close to getting your degree.

You wondered how life had led you down this path, one that Bruce had influenced.

One that gave you the love of your life, even though it had only been a short time.

You wondered about Jason.

If he truly loved you like you loved him. If he would be okay if you died here tonight. If he could pull himself together again when another person he cared about was stolen from him by death. 

Would he still love you after you were gone? 

God, you were freezing.

You lost feeling in your hands about thirty minutes ago, not to mention your toes. 

With a silent exhale, you closed your eyes, and waited for the inevitable. Either way, your night was going to end soon.

The Manbat screeched, the sound even louder and closer than before, and you tensed. 

Then, a shot rang out.

Your eyes fluttered open.

“Hey!” Nightwing skidded over to you, pulling you up into his arms.

More shots rang out in the air. “Fucking land, you piece of shit!” Red Hood roared, his guns trained on his target until the cartridges ran empty. "Get down here so I can beat your face in!"

“C-Cold…” You breathed out between stubbornly frozen lips, and you curled your tired and aching body against Nightwing’s. “W-Wounds…”

“I see them,” Nightwing said grimly, his hands making sure to stay away from your back where the cuts were largest. “We need to get you downstairs ASAP.”

The roof shook under the Manbat’s forceful landing, and Red Hood leaped onto its back, beating its head with an unrelenting barrage of fists, shouting his effort all the while. Nightwing contributed as well; throwing a live escrima stick at the creature and electrocuting it under the heavy rainfall. 

Manbat shrieked, and with several bullets to the head, finally collapsed onto the roof. 

Heaving from the fight, Red Hood sprinted over to you and Nightwing, skidding on his knees next to you. “Babe, babe,” he said frantically, hands outstretched but stopping just before touching you. “Fuck!” He tore off his helmet and glared at you, eyes an angry turquoise filled with fear. Fear for you. “Why do you never listen?! You should’ve stayed in!”

You weakly laughed, wincing when it pulled at your wounds. “Guess I never learn.” You forced a smile, even though your face felt frozen. “Sorry, honey.”

His glare only worsened, his brow creased with desperation and worry. “You can save your sorry’s until you’re no longer bleeding out on a rooftop. C’mon, let’s get you down into the hospital.” 

No matter how careful he was in lifting you in his arms, you still couldn’t help the choked scream when his hand put pressure on your back, pulling at the large lacerations.

He froze, face distraught.

Frowning, Nightwing stood up and held his arms out. “Here, I’ve–”

“I’ve got her,” Hood said loudly, glaring at him before turning his gaze back to you, softer and welled up with emotion. "You're not going to die, okay? I won't let that happen. You're safe now."

Die...

Death...

"Cemetery," you breathed out. "Talia. She's at the cemetery. L-Lazarus, down there—"

Red Hood stilled, then looked at Nightwing. “Get to the cemetery," he ordered. "I’ll be right behind you.”

Nightwing observed him for a few moments, his gaze darting down to you, and nodded. “See you there.” He then smiled at you. “Hopefully they’ve got the good drugs for you. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”

You rolled your eyes, albeit weakly. “I’ve had enough rain.”

He grinned before leaping off the side of the roof.

Hood adjusted his grip on you, making sure he didn’t touch any of your injuries, and made his way to the closest door. 

“Your helmet—” you whispered.

“A domino is fine,” Hood interrupted. “We can scramble any cameras later. I’ll wheel you to a doctor, then I’ll threaten them within an inch of their life to make sure you’re in good hands.”

You giggled, woozy from blood loss. “My hero…”

His fingers tightened at your thigh. “If only,” he whispered bleakly. “You keep getting hurt, and I…” His jaw clenched. “I’m always too late. Some hero I am.”

You shakily reached up and cupped his face, tilting him toward you. “You’ll always be my hero,” you mumbled, eyes barely open at this point. “I know you’ll come for me whenever I’m in danger.” 

You paused.

“And when we’re horny,” you finished with a loopy grin.

Despite him rolling his eyes behind his domino mask, there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re a disaster,” he said fondly. 

“Your disaster,” you corrected.

He breathed out a laugh. “Yeah. Mine.”

Despite how cold you were, your heart was warm.

He got you to a spare stretcher in an empty hallway, then rushed you to the nearest wing, yelling for a doctor. 

“Promise me…” You coughed, wincing from your wounds and the wetness of your throat as he wheeled you down the hall. “Promise me you’ll be careful where you’re going. N-No back-up…”

“You know me, babe,” Hood huffed, rolling your stretcher to a halt in front of an examination room. “I’m always careful.”

You weakly glared up at him. “Bullshit.” You reached out and roughly grabbed his jacket, but your grip slipped until your hand landed on his arm. “Promise me. Talia is…dangerous…We don’t know what’s down there…”

“Shh…” He placed a gloved finger on your lips. “I know. Save your energy, okay? Let the doctors take care of you. I told Belfry about your situation.” He smiled faintly. “I’ll be back before you know it. Hell, maybe I’ll come back before you even wake up from surgery, and give you a nice, big kiss to wake you up.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even when it aggravated your wounds. “My prince charming...” You licked your chapped lips. “‘You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’”

He stilled, breath held.

“But,” you continued, eyes fluttering closed, “I’ll save the rest for…when you come back to me, safe and in one piece…”

He leaned in close, his nose brushing against the soft of your cheek.

“I promise.”

You didn’t really remember anything else, the blood loss and cold had gotten so bad that you found yourself lost in the embrace of unconsciousness. 

Chapter Text

Beep...Beep....

Constantly. 

Muffled voices.

Covered hands touching at your bare skin, making you want to crawl inside yourself.

Pain.

Sharp then dull then throbbing then sore then sharp. Over and over, pinching and pulling and tightening. 

"C'mon, babe...I'll be here, so wake up soon, all right?..."

"Any updates on her condition?"

"Not much. Surgery was flawless. Wounds are closed up. She's just taking some extra time to sleep."

"Jason...You should take a break, go walk outside for a bit—"

"How do you expect me to take a merry stroll while my girlfriend's in a medically induced coma, Babs? I get it; it's part of the process. I trust the doctors to know what they're doing, but. Fuck, this sucks."

"Yeah..." A sigh. "I ran some tests on the blood work. It was a standard dose of League paralytic. Talia was...efficient in luring her out of the Belfry. Judging by the amount and how bad her condition was, I'm estimating that they had her for at least three hours."

"Why, though?" A loud thump, like a boot against linoleum. "She was never supposed to be a target. Why the fuck did Talia go through all the trouble to get to her?"

"Probably because of this very reaction, Jay...She wanted to get at our weak spot." A pause. "And she almost succeeded. I don't want to think of the alternative, so...I'd rather she be here, safe and secure in a coma, than dead on the roof with none of us able to help her."

"...Babs, don't blame yourself."

"And why can't I, Jay?" Clothing rustled. Arms crossed. "If that first Manbat hadn't taken me and Tim out, we wouldn't have been so stretched thin that the Belfry was left completely unguarded. If I hadn't been unconscious, I could've helped you and Dick with taking them out faster, and she wouldn't have been left out in the rain with blood loss and hypothermia from a torture session that shouldn't have happened. Talia knew all our weaknesses and exploited them ruthlessly, just as she's always done, and I hate that we trusted her again! It feels so incompetent, so naive, it's like I deserve to feel like shit for not seeing the bigger picture sooner. I've been in this game for too long to fall for this kind of bullshit, and yet, here we are!" Quieting. "...Sorry. That was a lot."

"...Yeah. I don't blame you."

"I...I hope she wakes up soon."

"Me too."

"...Seriously, go take a walk. You've been sitting here, day in and day out, for almost a week now. You don't want the first thing for her to see is you needing a shower."

"Just back the bus over me, sheesh. All right, I'll go for now. Keep my seat warm for me." 

A door creaked open and then closed with a soft click.

"...Feels like it's been forever since it's just us girls." Whimsical. "I've already reached out to Steph and Cass. They're on their way back after they wrap up their case. We could have a girl's night again. Wouldn't that be nice?"

...

"I wish you were awake. There's...so much to do. It sucks without you. Tim and Dick are about to tear their hair out dealing with the company, and I'm drowning through all the data we stole from the Court. You would love reading through all the documents with me. You wouldn't believe the kind of stuff Penguin's grandmother pulled off through them..."

By the time you woke up, everything was over.

At least, tentatively so.

You gazed out the window of your room. Well, your old—new?—room. You had moved back into your apartment. It had a decent view of West End, and only about ten minutes out from the Belfry. 

The sun was just barely peeking through the morning daze, illuminating the various boxes and unpacked bags on the floor.

The Court was still out there, though their days were now numbered. Most of their members had been killed in the war with the League, and the few who remained were too paranoid about their wealth and power to stick their necks out. It was only a matter of time before they were completely rooted out and brought to justice for their crimes.

The League had slunk back into the shadows, their numbers greatly reduced, but Talia was never one to back down from her ambitions. She had disappeared once more, but so long as she left Gotham alone, it didn’t matter to you. 

You bit your lip as you opened your ‘work’ laptop.

The worst thing about having been in a medically induced coma was missing out on Bruce coming back to life, even if it was through a Lazarus Pit. Violated so deeply by someone he had once loved.

Talia had still called him ‘beloved.’ You wondered if she truly loved him, or if she only loved him in the way she was taught, growing up as an assassin. 

It was a shame she couldn’t bring herself to change, and it was an outrage that she could ever do such a thing to the man she claimed to love.

You missed him so much. Even in death, Bruce had fought through the Pit Madness to sacrifice himself again, to make sure Gotham’s Pit was destroyed. 

Jason’s helmet had recorded the entire encounter, up until Bruce’s final moments.

“—And Jason, no matter what, I know you’ll keep her safe. Because she keeps you safe. The part of you that I had hurt so badly when you were younger.”

“What?” Jason’s voice sounded hoarse. “Bruce, you—”

Bruce looked directly at the camera in the Red Hood helmet and smiled, pain tinging the corners of his lips from his stab wound. “Your heart, Jaylad. I failed you as your father, and I’ve spent every moment since doing my best to repent for my mistakes. I never intended for her to be the answer, but I am so, so glad you two have each other now. It’ll be all right, son.”

Bruce paused, and then addressed you by your name. “Take care of him for me, please. You’re the anchor, keeping him grounded and supported. We didn’t have much time together, but I love you as if you were my own. All of you. Now go! The Owls—”

You paused the video. Taking a shaky breath, you slowly closed your laptop.

“Message received, boss,” you whispered to yourself.

A knock on your door broke you out of your musings, and you looked over to see Jason.

He smiled softly, his eyes glancing at the laptop knowingly, and sat next to you. “You okay?” He scanned you over. “Is your back bothering you at all?”

You shook your head. “Just the usual tightness now that the stitches are gone.” 

Jason let out a small hum, and gently reached out to wipe away a tear that gathered on your lashes. “You cried again.”

You tried to smile, ended up grimacing, and leaned against his shoulder with a sigh. “...Just tired,” you mumbled. “Sad. Everything in between. Feels weird to finally get to…breathe. Like the whole city’s crime scene decided it’s break time.”

Jason quietly snorted. “Yeah, like school recess, except instead of basketball and swings, it’s gang violence and trafficking. It’s not like everything’s at a standstill, though. We still need to patrol.”

“But we can finally stop operating at max.” You closed your eyes. “It’ll be good to finally let the others know they can come back without fear…Maybe we’ll even reach out to the J.L.”

“They can wait a little longer,” Jason stated, leaning his head on yours, his hand resting at your waist. “It’s more important for us to be at our best, and we can’t be that without resting. Especially you.”

You sighed. “Yeah…Too bad, though.”

“What’s too bad?”

“I’ll never be able to wear backless dresses with these scars,” you said morosely. “One less option for our date night.”

Jason raised his brows, intrigued. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind. I think your scars are kinda hot, to be honest.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “You think so?”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Babe. If you can love me with this giant scar on my torso and all the other ones I got, I can love you with those two angel slices on your back.”

Maybe you would’ve let it slide if it were any other time, but you couldn’t, and you stared up at him with wide eyes. 

Did he? 

Actually?

“You…what?” You uttered.

Jason smiled, the action shy and sincere. “I said what I said.”

“Did you?” You made the motion of cleaning out your ears. “I’m not sure I heard right. Can you…” You looked at him, hopeful. “Can you say it again?”

Because there was no way Jason Peter Todd— sometimes Wayne if he felt like honoring that part of his life— was actually reciprocating your feelings verbally. It felt like a dream, a delusion. You never thought of him ever saying it back. In fact, you were more than content for it to just be you saying it, so long as he still showed his love.

And he did. Why would you ever think otherwise when he did so much for you. Protected you. Guided you. Even fed you and took care of you while you were injured. Saved you when you were kidnapped. Filled your heart and body. 

He loved you. You knew. You just didn’t think you’d ever hear it.

Jason playfully rolled his eyes. With one arm around your waist, he tugged you into him, your body pressing up against his. He leaned down, staring directly at you. 

“I love you,” he clearly enunciated, saying your name with such adoration and contentment in his voice, his face, his eyes—

Your vision blurred, and you— as best as you could, given your back— threw your arms around him. “Love you too, Jay,” you said with a sniffle.

He chuckled, and hugged you too, his hands resting on your lower back. “Oh good. I was afraid you suddenly lost your feelings for me and I’d have to live with the heartbreak for the rest of my life.”

You scrunched up your face. “Never, you nerd. I’m with you until the end, even when you get sick and tired of me.”

“Baby…” He lifted your chin. “I’ll never get sick and tired of you,” he said softly. “Hell, it’d be the other way around. Besides, I could never leave you.”

“Yeah?” You breathed.

“Yeah.” A grin slowly spread on his handsome face. “I have to be there to save you when you inevitably get into trouble again. Can’t have that on my conscience, y’know?”

You smacked him on the arm, knowing you did zero damage to him. “Ass.”

He barked out a laugh and leaned his forehead against yours. “Your ass.”

“You wish you looked as good as my ass.”

“True. Your ass is pretty divine.”

“Not as much as yours. Your suit doesn’t hide anything, you know.”

“...Is that why my armor doesn’t cover my butt?”

Smack.

“H-Hey! Watch it! I don’t have any armor there!”

“You’re not even wearing armor right now!”

“Well, even if I was, it wouldn’t cover my butt anyway because that’s how you designed it! If I get shot in the ass, it’ll be your fault!”

You stuck your tongue out. Childish, yes.

But your heart was full, and the immediate crisis was over, and your boyfriend loved you back.

It felt like you could finally take a breather.

“Besides…” Jason began, looking around the room with a fond look. “We signed a lease together. You’re stuck with me for another twelve months, sweetheart.”

Grinning, you wrap him in your arms and rest your face against his chest. “I’ll be sure to make you sign the next one, too.”

So much had happened, and you had lost so much— hell, your friends had lost so much. For a while, it felt like there was no end to the chaos, the fighting, the war on Gotham. So many times where it felt like you were going to lose Dick. Babs. Tim. Alfred. Even Jason.

Bruce had felt larger than life, and even he couldn’t survive to see the mission to its end. There may never be an end. 

But so long as you still drew breath, and you had your friends and allies, it would turn out all right.

Chapter Text

Jason finally took you out on that date he promised.

Roses, him in a dress shirt and slacks, dinner at Raffi’s. You in a dress that accentuated the best of you.

And a top floor suite at Hotel Sicura.

Giggling on his arm, the two of you walked out of the elevator to your suite. 

“How did you even get this rez?” You asked, walking around what was essentially a whole lavish apartment in awe. Black marble floors, dark oaken furniture. Pure wealth in every part of its decor and layout. It even came with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked downtown.

“Pulled some favors,” Jason replied casually as he closed the door, subtly putting a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door handle outside. “As in, I got Babs to put the room under the mayor’s, then had Timbo take up the guy’s time with Wayne Enterprises.”

You whistled, impressed. “Isn’t that going to come back to bite us?”

Jason snorted. “For all we’ve done for the city, I think we deserve a little R n’ R, even if it’s not completely legal.” Walking up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Don’t you think so, sweetheart?”

The endearing nickname had you blushing, and you leaned back on him with a pleased hum. “True. We did solve a big problem for the city, and we’ve been cleaning the streets for him.”

“Exactly.” Tugging you even closer, Jason leaned down, pressing his lips against your bare shoulder.

You shivered, and the air in the room shifted.

There was one last thing he promised you, after all, and it was long overdue given how much your lives had been put on hold for this city.

Turning around in his arms, you leaned up on your tiptoes to capture his lips with yours, your eyes fluttering closed as soon as you made contact. His low groan vibrated against your mouth, the sound sending delightful shivers throughout your body, and you wrapped your arms over his neck, tugging him even closer if that was possible.

His hands tightened at your waist, his thumbs rubbing below your ribs, then dragging down to squeeze your ass. You moaned into his mouth, your tongue rubbing his until you broke away with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting you two until it snapped. 

“Jason…” You whimpered as his hands kneaded the softness of your rear. “Can we? Tonight? Please?”

“God,” Jason croaked, leaning forward to nip at your jaw. “Yeah, I’ll give it to you, baby. We’ve waited long enough, especially in our line of work.” He licked at the red mark he gave you. “I want to worship your body in its entirety, bare my soul to you and back. Be so close that I can’t tell where I end and you begin.”

His words had you trembling, your heart beating so fast you swore it could burst out of you. “Touch me,” you all but demanded.

His response was to bring you into a searing kiss, one that had your toes curling and your lingerie wet. His hands wandered your body, squeezing and caressing, leaving every inch of you sensitive like a live wire. 

As your kiss grew heated, he slowly backed you toward the king-sized bed, until your legs hit the edge and you fell against the surface with a soft ‘oomph.’

Placing his hands on either side of your head, Jason loomed over you, eyes dark and blown with desire. He licked his lips, and bent down to ravage your neck, kissing and suckling in a way that you knew would leave your skin a collage of red and purple.

You moaned, your hands tugging at his back with every hickey. Eventually, they dragged forward to his front, undoing each button one by one, until his shirt gave way to his glorious pecs and abs, decorated by scars of all kinds. Burns, slashes, puckered holes from bullets. His Y-shaped incision. God, he was beautiful and yours.

You didn’t hesitate; reaching out, you grabbed him by his tits and squeezed, forcing a moan out from him.

“The things you do to me,” Jason breathed out against your collarbone. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy, babygirl.”

“Me?” You whined, enjoying his plush chest and clenching abs. “What about you? You’re so big and hot and sexy, I literally can’t take it. I’m so wet for you right now.”

Jason outright groaned at your words, and you felt his physical response against your thigh, hard and throbbing through his slacks. “Yeah?” He whispered, licking a strip of your neck. “Tell me more about how wet you are, baby.”

You bit your lip, finding yourself shy all of a sudden. “N-No…”

Lifting himself off you, he grinned; dark and handsome and oh so devious. “Why not? You’re mine, aren’t you? What’s there to hide when I’ve eaten you out and fucked you on my fingers?” 

You couldn’t help but blush at his brazen words. “It’s…embarrassing,” you muttered, looking away. “Saying so much, I mean. You’re putting me on the spot.”

His grin softened, and for a moment, you thought he was going to let it go–

But then his hand snaked up your skirt and cupped your pussy, making you gasp and clench your thighs around his forearm. 

“Mmm…” He suckled at your jaw as he felt you up, his fingers rubbing at your slit through the lace panties. “You’re dripping, babe. Pussy’s all nice and ready for me, ain’t it?” 

You found yourself shivering at his words, finding them so hot and filthy. A far cry from when you two first started fooling around. “Y-Yeah, I want you bad, Jay,” you whimpered, spreading your legs open for him.

Jason let out an absolutely vulgar groan at the sight as your dress hitched around your hips to show him what you had prepared for tonight. “Red lace panties?” He purred, rubbing at your slit through the thin and soaked fabric. “Dressed in my colors, spreadin’ your legs for me. Fuck, it’s like you’re offerin’ a boon to a god, babygirl.”

You glanced down, seeing his erection straining through the stiff fabric of his pants, and licked your lips. “You are a god, Jay. I’ve dreamed about your cock in me since I first touched you,” you confessed, your face a soft pink. “Please, Jay. Please…” You bit your lip. “Please fuck me. Make love to me.”

His fingers pressed harder against you, prodding into your pussy through your panties, and you gasped, your thighs spreading even further. “Not yet,” he said, voice dropping low. “I have to worship my goddess first. Then, I’ll give her what she wants.”

You threw your head back with a whine, knowing he was about to torture you. 

His hand left your pussy, much to your disappointment, and instead went up to undo your dress, fingers still glistening. Only a moment later, it fell off you onto the bed in a flutter. It left you in your lingerie: a matching bra and panties in his colors, and you made sure to lean forward, giving him a good view.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Jason groaned in appreciation, pushing his face into your cleavage and immediately laid a kiss on the soft curve. “And all mine.”

“Yours,” you moaned, eyes fluttering closed when his hands massaged your breasts. You found yourself completely topless soon, with him throwing your bra to the side, and his mouth descending on one of your nipples with a hot, wet suck. 

You whined as he licked and suckled until the nub was hard, aching, and oversensitive, while his fingers pulled and tweaked at the other, until your whole chest was tingling and wet from his touch. It was like every lick, every suck, left you tender, bringing life to each nerve. He really wasn’t going to leave you wanting. 

“Haa…Jay, please…” You feebly pushed at his head lower, to no avail.

“Please, what?” Jason mouthed around your breast, glancing up at you with dark, knowing eyes.

You whimpered. “Please, eat my pussy out. I need to feel you.”

Jason chuckled, his breath tickling your wet skin. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.”

His hands slid down to your hips, playing with the band of your panties, before tearing them off in one hand, making you gasp. “I’ll buy you another.” He slid onto his knees between your thighs, his hot breath caressing your pussy lips with each exhale.

He closed his eyes and leaned in, taking a big whiff. “God, every time I smell you, it’s like a pavlov response. You got me pussy whipped.”

“Yeah...?” You smiled, and spread your legs on either side of his broad shoulders. “You should show me.” You tapped at your clit, moaning at the slight vibrations. “I want you so bad, Jay. C’mon.”

Jason huffed. “Zero patience, I swear.” 

He then grabbed you by your hips and yanked you up to his waiting mouth, where he then flattened his tongue on your slit. 

“Fuck– Mmm!” You moaned at the hot feeling of his tongue against you. His breath teased your pussy lips and clit with each exhale, making the muscles in your inner thighs jump while his hands squeezed your hips to keep you sealed against his face.

You’ve never said it, but you loved the sound of him eating you out; the wet squelches of his saliva and your juices, of damp skin against damp skin, his groans of appreciation. 

Jason was a natural and you were blessed with a man who had an appetite. There really was nothing like the feeling of being so strongly desired by the man you love.

Your hips rocked against his face, his nose in perfect position to bump against your clit every time, sending delightful shocks through the depths of your body and up into your mind.

“M-More…” You whimpered, tugging at his hair. “Jay, please..!”

The noise you let out when he inserted two fingers into you was obscene. You were more than wet enough to take them in one go, and you clenched around them, eagerly accepting the intrusion.

“Fuck.” Jason groaned against your pussy lips. "That’s gonna be around my cock soon.”

“Now,” you whined, wrapping your legs around his head. “I want your cock, please please please!”

“Soon,” he promised, and your voice went a pitch higher as he inserted a third finger in you, stretching out your tight muscles in a painfully delicious way. His fingers were so much longer and thicker than yours, and the gentle but firm way he massaged you from the inside had you seeing stars. You rode his fingers for all their worth, coating them in your juices with each bounce while his mouth sucked at your clit—

And you snapped, body arching off the bed in an orgasm so good it brought tears to your eyes. Your pussy spasmed around his thrusting fingers while your hands buried themselves in his curls, keeping his face in place while you trembled around him. 

With a strangled moan, you fell back onto the soft bed, fighting to breathe. 

“Mmm…” You heard him hum in appreciation. You looked through your parted thighs as he licked up the rest, though his chin was still coated with it. “Love having dessert after a good meal.” He glanced up at you and grinned, his lips glossy with your juices. “Don’t you, babygirl?”

Eyes half-lidded and still struggling to breathe, you pouted. “You’re such a tease, Jay…”

“Me?” He raised a brow. “You’re the one grinding your pussy into my face, and I’m the tease?” He shook his head in mock disapproval. “I guess I better prove myself, then.”

Standing up to his full height, Jason shed his shirt with a careless shrug, letting it flutter to the ground. He then undid his belt, the button and zipper of his pants right after, and shucked them all off until he was as naked as you were.

And the sight of him had your mouth watering.

From his handsome face, to his broad shoulders, his burly chest and his defined abs, to the Adonis belt carving his pelvis and thick muscular thighs, his strong arms and calves…

And his cock. 

Hard and twitching, the head beading with precum, and blooming red with throbbing arousal.

Humming, Jason tugged you up from the bed, until your face was level with his cock. “Same shade,” he remarked with a prideful growl. “You’re really wearing the same shade as my cock.”

You licked your lips, tasting the cherry flavor of your lipstick. “Of course, love. I did say I’d wear your colors.” You fluttered your lashes, and your tongue peeked out to lick at the underside, catching the bead of precum on top with a flick. “Please, baby?”

His gaze was smoldering at this point. “Scoot back on the bed, sweetheart.”

You did as you were told, moving back until you were close to the many pillows that decorated the head of the bed. As Jason got on the bed as well, you couldn’t help but widen your thighs, giving him a full view of your fingers pulling your lips apart, showing your dripping hole.

He outright moaned at the sinful sight. “You’re gonna kill me,” he whispered hoarsely, pupils blown wide, “and I’d thank you for it.”

You grinned, opening your arms wide for him as he crawled on top of you. “I can’t kill you yet; you still haven’t made love to me.”

Jason chuckled breathlessly, and leaned in to capture your lips in a surprisingly sweet kiss. “Whatever my heart desires,” he whispered against your lips. “No condom?”

You shook your head. “Fuck me raw, Jason Peter Todd.” You moved your lips next to his ear. “I want to feel every drop of your cum inside me. Claim me from the inside.”

You felt his back muscles shiver underneath your palms.

He took a deep breath, and started rubbing himself against your pussy lips, coating his cock thoroughly in your juices. The friction was nice, and the tip would bump against your clit with every slide, leaving you humming with pleasure. The longer he teased you, the wetter you became, and the glossier his cock, and those little pearls of precum smearing your vulva in a translucent white had you biting your lip, your hips wriggling to catch the head.

It wasn’t forever though; with one hand lifting your thigh, and the other hand guiding his cock, Jason slowly pushed into you, hissing through clenched teeth when the head popped inside you.

“Fuck, you’re so hot and tight,” he said in a strangled voice, his whole body tense as slowly, inch by inch, he was enveloped by your velvety walls.

Your mouth hung open, thighs spread wide on either side of him as you were split open by his girth. “Oh- Oh, mm, haa..!”

The stretch was incredible. Slowly parting you aside to make room for him, making you grip him for dear life while your abundant wetness made him glide right against all your sweet spots. It was a good thing he had pounded you with three fingers earlier, or else it might’ve hurt. As it was, it was just on the border between pain and pleasure— he was almost too big and you were almost too tight— making your mind dizzy trying to balance it together in a sane perspective. 

By the time he was fully seated inside you, both of you were near panting, faces flushed from just trying to register this new closeness, this new searing heat of each other. 

Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of his cock inside you, spreading your pussy obscenely with his size. “You…You good, babygirl?” He panted, abs so tense you were almost afraid he might snap in half. His hands were clenched so tightly in the bed sheet that it wouldn't surprise you if he ripped them. “Not- Not in pain or..?”

You thrashed your head side to side, tears in the corners of your eyes. “You feel so good, Jay, so fucking good. So big and thick,” you rambled, your mind too far gone to even consider being embarrassed, “gonna ruin me forever, I’ll never want another cock except yours.”

“Yeah?” He bared his teeth in a possessive grin, cheeks red with happiness. “You better not. This is the only cock you’re gettin’, you got that? No one else gets to fuck you.”

“No one else,” you agreed, hands reaching up for him. “Please, love. Please…”

Jason leaned in closer, until he was face to face with you. “‘Please,’ what?” He whispered, his breath caressing your face.

“Please fuck me,” you purred, licking at his lips.

He took a deep breath. Then grabbed your hips and thrusted every inch in you, making you gasp. His cock was so deep inside you, completely enveloped to the hilt, and then he rolled his hips, his pelvis grinding against your clit. 

You threw your head back, crying out with every thrust, every snap of his hips, driving his cock in and out of you with loud, wet squelches that echoed throughout the large suite. The bed rocked under you in time with his thrusts, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, holding on for dear life. 

It felt so good. It felt so good, like he was making your body sing, making you addicted, making you insane in the best of ways. You wanted to lose yourself in him, you wanted to surrender yourself to him, you wanted him to use you for his pleasure. Because he deserved nothing less. You wanted to give him the world, everything he could ever want. Your heart was so full to bursting, tears in the corners of your eyes, his hot breath and noises like music in your ears.

Jason grunted above you, pounding you into the mattress until you whimpered, until you sobbed, until you screamed for more, don’t stop, never stop. Your voice hit a higher pitch as he grounded the head of his cock into your deepest point."Oh my god, oh god, right there, please mmm...!"

“Babygirl…” He panted, head dipping down to your neck. “I ain’t gonna last—I’m close, I can’t– You feel too good—”

“So close,” you sobbed, your legs wrapped around his hips to push him even deeper, to never let him go, never leave your pussy, “cum inside, Jay, please fill me up! Make me yours!” 

You continued to ramble through your pleasurable haze, arching off the bed to press yourself even closer, wanting no distance between you, no distinction between you and him, there was only us and pleasure and sweet friction—

Letting out a ragged groan, Jason blindly reached down and rubbed at your clit, thrusting hard into your puffy pussy lips with abandon.

As soon as he started rubbing, you cried out loudly, body snapping up as every muscle, every fiber in you tightened until everything burst and flooded your senses, lighting your nerves up and overwhelming your mind into a blank haze.

Above you, Jason was in no better state, shouting his moan in a strangled cry once you started squeezing him for dear life. His cock jerked and sputtered inside you, pumping you full of his cum with every twitch until it was frothing around the seal he made within your pussy.

Pure nirvana. 

His arms buckled, squishing you with his bulk, and you let out a strained sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

The room slowly fell silent, with the exception of both of your ragged breathing. Wetting his dry throat, Jason slowly pulled out with a shudder, and collapsed next to you on the bed, bundling you up in his arms. You nuzzled close, inhaling the scent of his sweat and cologne, your lips leaving lazy kisses around his collarbone and the occasional scar you came across with your tongue.

“Fuck…” Jason uttered, burying his face into your neck.

“Mm…” You let out a soft whimper, your body still trembling with the aftershocks, all while warm cum slowly oozed out of your well-fucked hole.

Sighing, Jason nuzzled your shoulder, his lips leaving kisses. “You okay, baby?” He mumbled.

“Mhmm…” You weakly hummed, curling up against his chest. 

“You were amazing,” he whispered into your skin. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you breathed out, slack in his embrace. “I think you’re going to kill me in this relationship.”

He chuckled. “What a pair we make, then.”

You smiled sleepily, and cupped his face. “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you murmured. 

Jason looked at you, soft and open. “Yeah. Same here.” His throat bobbed. "I...I really do love you. I know it's taken me a bit to say it, but I. Fuck, it's just...Thank you for wanting me, for- for giving me your heart. I know you're so far out of my league, and I'm not the best guy to be around even on my best days. Plus, you know, dying really put a pause on being a person for so long. Sometimes I don't even think I'm the same boy—"

You placed a finger on his lips, interrupting him. "No, honey. Don't talk so badly about the man I love," you whispered, leaning your forehead against his. His eyes fluttered shut, and you slid your hand over to cup his face, thumb rubbing gently against the scar tissue. "You are so...good. You're such a good man. You say you don't see yourself in the same shoes as that boy who died in Ethiopia, but the first thing you did when you came back to yourself was to come help Gotham again, even if it was a little bloodier. You're a hero."

You nuzzled noses. "My hero. I'll always trust you with my heart, just as you trust me with yours. Thank you for loving me."

"God, I adore you to hell and back," Jason said, breath hitching as his eyes misted over. His expression was so open and vulnerable, it made your chest yearn. He was yours, and you were his. "I can't believe you're mine. That I get to have this. Have you."

"Yours," you assured, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt. "And mine."

He leaned in to kiss you, and you happily reciprocated, until you both fell asleep, sated and content in each other’s arms.

You couldn’t imagine any other life than with him.