Chapter Text
Jason sat in his room. His little, medium-sized room. On his medium-sized bed. However, his bed was different, and the light was different. His room was dusty and faded like no one had touched it in years. Actually, it wasn’t his room at all.
None of this was his. Right now, he sat in a stranger's room that he knew nothing but also everything about. This was his room… in the future.
Jason felt a lump in his throat overwhelm him as he looked at the shelf with his favorite books.
Even sequels that hadn’t been released from his timeline could be seen. He couldn't help but sniff his nose and try to contain the tears. His attention was drawn to the helmet he held in his hand.
The red helmet. The one he had found in that apartment. The place he woke up in. It felt strange to him. He had never seen the helmet before, but he felt connected to it somehow.
“Hey, Jay.” A voice came from the door. Jason instantly hid the helmet away under his blanket. He promptly stared at the doorway in shock. It was his brother.
Dick stood in Jason's doorway with his arm resting on the frame. His eyes were puffy, and his nose was snotty. He didn’t really say anything to back up his entrance. He just sorta gazed at him. Up and down. Left and right. Like he was seeing a ghost.
A ghost.
“Hey, Dick,” Jason responded. He had turned his attention to twirling his thumbs. Dick slowly and hesitantly made his way over to the bed, afraid of what might happen. He sat next to Jason, still looking at him in awe and bereavement.
Jason could hear his breath. It was so loud. It was long and affecting. It made him uncomfortable. It directed him to the conclusion that he really didn’t want to think about.
“You know… Zatanna would really like to meet you. She can send you home. To your… timeline.” Jason could just feel the hitching in his voice. He heard Dick fighting his soul not to cry.
And he knew why.
Jason didn’t respond to him. The room was so silent that it rang in his ears. It was extremely awkward. He felt Dick’s daggering eyes not let go of him for even a millisecond.
“I—I um… Your room didn't really change over the years…” This was excruciating. “You still have all your books and stuff…”
“Hnn.”
“You know, I tried to read some of your books. Some of 'em are really hardcore English.”
“Mhm.”
“Couldn’t get through the first 100 pages.”
“...”
“I just… watched the movie instead.”
“...”
Jason heard his brother sigh in defeat. It only took him a minute to talk again.
“Jason, why did you leave the Watchtower?”
He sensed Dick’s eyes change into their serious glare. It was like a sword was pointing at him. He almost felt a pinch. It wouldn't surprise him if it managed to cut through.
Jason was still silent. Not a word, a peep, or a response came out of his mouth. He was still twirling his thumbs, wishing that Dick would get the cue and leave him alone.
But Dick was stubborn.
“Cyborg contacted me and said you left.”
“...”
“Thought I might find you here…”
“...”
Jason heard his older brother let out a small sigh again. He saw Dick out of the corner of his vision pinching his nose and wiping his eyes.
It made Jason try to hide the smile lines near his downturned mouth by massaging them. It was kind of ironic that they were called smile lines when they also appear whenever Jason's face forces him to display his dejection.
“Jason, they could’ve sent you home right then and there.”
“...”
Jason resorted to biting his cheeks. It was the only way to straighten his face.
“Look, I get that you’re scared and confused,”
“...”
“But don't you wanna go home… to your Bruce?”
A huge voice crack could be heard when he said home. It made Jason harden his stomach. The silence was deafening. His eye began to twitch. He couldn't bear to look at Dick’s face.
“Jason, tell me.”
He knew that if he did.
“Jason, talk to me.”
The answer to his question…
“Jason?”
…would be true.
“I’m not stupid, Dick!” Jason turned his head to stare back at his older brother while yelling. He knew that Dick was staring solely at his tear-filled eyes.
“Sorry…” Jason resumed twirling his thumbs, turning away again. Another silence took over the room. Dick was clearly processing the response he had just gotten. He tilted his head a little, hesitating about what he was going to say.
“I didn't say you were stupid…”
“But you thought it.”
“Jason, that's not tru—”
“Ever since I came here, people have looked at me.” He snarled, facing forward, staring at nothing. He sniffed his nose and changed his position to hug his knees.
“They stare in shock, horror, terror, whatever crap you wanna use.” He spat. His words stumbled upon each other. He sounded angry and confused at the same time.
“Bruce, Wonder Woman, Superman, the rest of the JL…” Jason went back to stare Dick straight in the face. “Even the guy who wore the Robin suit!” He went back to glancing at the floor.
“...”
“I thought I did something bad. That I… betrayed Bruce or something. That I—That I sniff …hurt… him… or something.” His face could no longer hide his frustration. He looked so puzzled, but then his brows started to crunch.
“No, the answer was pretty clear when they started arguing about sending me back.”
“Jason… You have nothing to worry about…” He saw straight through his bullcrap. Dick had always been horrible at hiding his grief. It even looked like Dick didn’t believe it himself. It almost made Jason scream.
“Dick, stop lying.” He said through his teeth. His jaw clenched from holding himself back. His nose twitched in irritation.
“I told you I'm not stupid.”
“...”
All Dick could do was listen. Everything that he could counter with would be shot down by Jason’s ability to see right through him.
“Even you…” Jason took a long sigh. He closed his eyes and made sure that whatever he said next would not be stuttered.
“Even you look at me with the same eyes.” He glared at Dick. It looked eerie and unsettling. He tried to find an answer in his brother's eyes, but Dick wouldn't budge.
“How did it happen?” His gaze looked as sharp as his brother’s— even sharper. Dick began to shiver. His face showed no other feeling but dismay. He glanced, unconfident, until he shook his head and frowned at the ground.
“Jason, I can’t—”
“Just tell me.”
“...It’s better that you don’t.”
“Dick, please.”
“...”
“Dick…”
He looked back at Jason, but he couldn't hold eye contact for long. He ran his hand through his hair, glancing at the bookshelf. Jason saw that he was unsure of what to do.
He took a quick sniff, sighed out his mouth, and covered it with his hand, as he looked just past Jason's eyes to avoid his stare.
“Uhm.”
“You—uh…”
“Y-you died…” Dick’s eyes went back to the floor.
“Oh, God.”
“Trying to… trying to save someone… dear to you.”
The realization hit Jason like a brick. He knew he was right.
From the moment that Robin appeared, and of course, Bruce’s collapse, it got him questioning. And the confirmation of the time travel. He thought that he had maybe outgrown Robin or something like that.
But it was when Wonder Woman started to argue, for Jason's sake, that he should stay. That he shouldn’t go back to “that fate.” That's when he started to realize.
Why would somebody try so hard to not send someone back in time?
He only had one answer to his question.
But hearing it—hearing it from Dick himself… He almost couldn't breathe. The tightening in his chest only got more compressed.
“Jason, are you—”
Jason flung himself in the arms of his brother, sobbing violently, unable to get a proper inhale. His snot stuck itself to Dick’s shirt.
Jason felt it all over his nose as he wiggled his face. Even the tears could be seen if he removed his head, but his hands were stuck, not wanting to let go. Unable to even think that he had that option.
Jason was afraid that his brother might reject him or push him away like he had done before. It hadn’t been that long since Jason had faced against his real brother.
The brother from his timeline. The brother that would look at him with disdain and resentment. But this time he hugged back—much to his surprise.
Dick, after his hesitance, slowly squeezed Jason. A huge sigh was let out as he hugged his brother. The brother that Dick hadn’t seen in years. Like he had been wanting to do that for ages.
They both sat still and wrapped each other. They didn’t say anything, but that was fine. Jason felt at ease. He felt safe and able. But it didn’t take that long for the thought of his grueling demise to creep in again.
He stared at the wall and stopped his sobbing. He only felt Dick’s heaving and his shudder. Jason had never felt like this. He wasn’t angry or confused anymore. He didn’t know what it was. His life has been on the line plenty of times, but none of them felt like this.
This void of despair. It was gnawing its way inside him. It was alarming all his senses, demanding he avoid meeting his fate. This was fear.
He was scared.
“I don't wanna go back, Dick.”
“I don't wanna die.”
Jason felt Dick’s body stiffen. It was like a rock. A solid but warm rock. It was like even though he knew, Dick couldn't comprehend or come to terms with hearing his own brother’s fear of dying.
Jason could understand that. Not being able to accept the future—or for Dick’s sake, the past.
Dick broke the hug, with both his hands on Jason’s shoulders, looking him dead in the eyes. Jason knew he was about to say something. He quickly sniffed his nose and regained his composure.
"Jason… I…” Dick couldn’t let the correct words spew out. His mouth was twitching, and his eyes started to falter.
“Great job, Nightwing. We have your location.” A filtered voice could be heard from what Jason would assume was Dick’s communication device.
“Keep the subject apprehended until arrival.” They both froze, but mostly Dick. He just stared right past Jason, in panic.
Jason was just looking at him in disbelief. He couldn’t really understand what was happening. Who was he apprehending? A criminal? No, he knew. He just needed to process the situation.
They were after him. They were going to capture him and send him back.
“Dick?...” Jason gaped. It was the only thing he could do. Stare in disbelief. Jason couldn’t remember Dick texting any of the League members. They must have somehow gotten a hold of his location.
Jason got up from the bed, trying to control his breathing. He couldn’t look at him. How could he forget? Dick wasn’t here to comfort him—he was here to retrieve him.
Jason walked towards the window, but Dick’s hand got in the way. He grabbed his wrist in an attempt to stop him.
“Jason, just wait.” All of the progress that they had just made was just thrown out the window. Distress planted itself on to Dick’s face. His eyebrows furrowed.
“They’re gonna send me back, Dick.” Jason turned around. It looked as if he was about to cry.
“They’ll help… you.” He could hear the doubt in his voice. No different from when he entered and denied anything about his death. Jason was tired of it. Tired of being promised his own safety, when, in reality, it was the polar opposite.
“No, they won’t. They’re gonna send me back, erase all trace of me ever being here. As if I never happened.” Why couldn’t Dick understand that? Why was he trying to say that the Justice League would help him?
“I’m gonna die, Dick.” He yelled
He couldn’t let them find him. He had to get out of there.
“I’m not going back.” Jason wrenched his older brother's grip free from his wrist, running towards the window.
“Jason, wait.” But it was too late. Jason had released a smoke bomb, allowing him to escape without Dick behind him. He could hear his older brother’s cough fading away as he got further and further from the exit.
– –
Millions of thoughts were circulating through Bruce’s head. Unspoken and unanswered.
He didn’t want an answer to any of his questions. No, he didn’t even want to think about it. He wanted nothing to do with all of this. He didn’t want to be part of this whole fever dream.
He could.
He’s the world's greatest detective, after all. Fighting against cryptics and cults was his day-to-day basis. Countless cases could be described in the same way as this one.
But he just couldn’t do this one. Not now. Probably not ever.
It all just happened so fast, out of the blue. It practically punched the air out of his lungs.
He was right there, with the same expression that he always carried. The beam of hope that guided him, the ladder Bruce climbed out of his void with.
He should be happy. This was his chance to reconnect and bury the hatchet over all this misery. To finally apologize to Jason, that none of what happened was his fault. But Bruce was Bruce, and that simply wasn’t an option for him. Talking about feelings was never his strong suit.
Everyone you ask would tell you that Bruce was a brick wall. He’s impossible to read. An entire gray cloud filled with rain, dust, and lightning, ready to strike at any given moment. It was only a hope that anybody could get through to him.
But that's why he had his Robins. His children.
They were the reason that Bruce’s cloud could turn bright. They were the sun that shone between the crevices of the fog. A true Boy Wonder, holding the flashlight for a miserable old man like himself to get out of the mist.
Sometimes Bruce would wonder if having Robin really was the answer. That a child was what Batman needed. They would be on the front line, sacrificing themselves for people they’ve never met.
Facing off against villains that their peers would have nightmares of.
Was it truly fair to have those kids fight just because Batman needed them by his side?
That was all he could ever think about after his return from Ethiopia.
The pain that ached in his entire body. The guilt that would wash over any chance he would breathe. It was too much.
He vowed to never take in another Robin, in hope that it would never happen again.
Dick agreed with him. He was the first to voice his concern over the fact that Batman would adopt kids to fight crimes with him. The risk that he would put them in. But Bruce reassured himself that it was for their own good.
Dick’s family was murdered. It wasn’t an accident that they fell from that rope, and Dick knew that. In order for him not to turn into what Bruce had already become, he decided to help him. Help him get revenge for his parents.
Jason was no different. A scrappy kid filled with potential, the moment he saw him.
It was on his parents' death anniversary. A random kid had removed the tires from the Batmobile in the same alley where Bruce’s parents had been gunned down. Bruce couldn’t help but laugh at the scenery.
The fear of Jason turning into a mobster or something worse gave him the idea of turning him into Robin to help him overcome his traumatic childhood.
But it didn’t seem like that.
In his opinion, he might have made it worse. Jason was dead, and it was all his fault.
Jason is gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He should’ve seen it coming, prepared him for the worst. But he was still dead, and nothing about it was going to change. Not now, and not ever. Not even if he came from the past. Him being there changed nothing. Nothing at all.
In the end, Dick was right, and Jason was dead.
His partner. His son. His fault.
“I’ve contacted Zatanna. She should be on her way to Nightwing’s location.”
“Batman?” Bruce looked up at Cyborg, who tried to wave him back to reality, but it only annoyed him.
Batman took a long cough to ready his voice. “Yes, of course. Ready the teleporter.”