Work Text:
You’ve got hidden mistakes
I’ve committed covert well-intended crimes
We make passes at being an ostrich,
A castle of lies built in the sand.
Can’t let the earth shift to reveal you,
Won’t let the waves crash down on us
Our world might end if you ever find my sleight of hand.
Consciousness came in waves of nausea and pain. Dick lay-- at least he thought he was laying down-- on something soft. His head was throbbing horribly and the room felt as if it were moving. He doubted that it was. He couldn’t hear any telltale signs of him being water bound. Or even that odd hum that would signal a plane or jet. What he could hear was a horrible pounding in his head. The sound of blood rushing to it.
Very slowly he lifted an eyelid. The room was dark, but even the little light that it held felt like too much. His eye snapped shut of its own accord. It seemed his body wasn’t on board with his mind yet.
Dick fought the urge to groan. He wanted very much to understand where he was, it didn’t feel like home. It didn’t feel unsafe either, but Dick had been in the game long enough to know, waking up in an unknown location was never ideal. He forced his eye back open and this time caught sight of the figure sitting just feet from him.
Dick felt his heart skip once and then his whole body melt back into the bed. He hadn’t even realized he had been tense until he wasn’t.
Jason sat, slouched down in a chair. His head was bowed, his chin resting on his chest. He had his arms folded and his legs sprawled out. So he was in Jason’s apartment. He eyed his brother trying to understand why he was here, and why Jason was keeping vigil beside him. Dick thought it looked rather uncomfortable. The chair was obviously one he had grabbed from his kitchen. Dick winced, knowing how sore Jason would be the next day from perching on that for who knows how long.
Dick, wanting to reach out to wake his brother, moved to sit up. A sharp shot of pain lanced through his head as he moved. The world went white and suddenly Dick felt as if he were being electrocuted.
When the pain finally began to fade Dick realized two things. There was someone holding him, and his face was wet from tears.
“Jay?” Dick asked, his voice coming out raggedly.
“It’s okay.” Jason spoke in a way that Dick hadn’t ever heard directed at him before.
Dick blinked trying to clear away the fog that covered his sight and got a better look at his brother.
Jason was pale, in the half dimmed light. His face was pinched in worry and his hair was in utter disarray. Dick felt an odd urge to ruffe it.
His hand stayed limp on the bed.
“What-- what happened?” Dick asked slowly as Jason very carefully pulled him up into a seated position.
Dick waited as Jason stuffed pillow after pillow behind him to keep him upright. Were the room not spinning again, Dick would have grown impatient with the man’s prolonged silence. But his head felt as if it were splitting open and his stomach was protesting in near equal measure.
Jason, finally satisfied with Dick’s arrangement, returned to his chair. Dick, were he in any mind to analyze the man, would have noticed his expression. But he was struggling to keep his eyes open and didn’t.
“What do you remember?” Jason asked slowly, leaning forward in his seat so that his elbows were perched on the tops of his knees.
Dick frowned. What did he remember? He remembered he was Dick Grayson and that Jason was Jason Todd, his brother. He remembered he was Nightwing and that Jason was the Red Hood. He remembered that he was 25 and that he liked ice cream. But somehow he didn’t think any of that was what Jason was wondering.
“I’m not sure.” Dick settled on.
Jason bit his lip but waited for Dick to elaborate.
“I… I was--” Dick closed his eyes, his head hurt horribly. Thoughts seemed to float in and out of his reach, never quite forming completely. “You were--”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Jason said after a long moment of silence.
Dick huffed in exasperation. The last thing he remembered? How could he even know ? He closed his eyes in frustration trying to remember what he should remember. It was… March. He had been working a big case and he’d called Jason about…
A wave of pain overcame him suddenly and Dick cried out.
“Hey. Hey! Dick?” Jason sounded panicked but Dick couldn’t deal with it. He was too busy trying to breathe.
Inhale through the nose and out through the mouth. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up, he chanted to himself in his head. He had a sinking suspicion he wouldn't have anything in his stomach anyway.
Something cool and wet was placed on his forehead. It was bliss. Jason was muttering curses to the carpet, all while running a hand up and down Dick’s arm.
Dick reached up and put his hand over Jason’s which was holding the ice pack to his forehead. “Thanks.”
Jason looked at him, something unreadable in his face. “Don’t.”
Dick held completely still, unsure how to respond.
“Don’t thank me. You-- You don’t have to. Not for this.” Jason said.
Dick half expected him to move back to his chair but he didn’t. He stayed this time perched on the edge of the bed.
“Jason, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” Dick asked slowly.
“You got hit in the head really hard.” Jason said tonelessly.
Dick wanted to roll his eyes. That much was painfully obvious. What he wanted was the details. The how and why.
“And?” Dick said when Jason didn’t continue.
“And… What do you remember?”
Dick growled in frustration. “I don’t know! I don’t even know what day it is.”
“It’s Sunday.” Jason said smoothly.
“Sunday?”
“Yeah.” Jason’s hand felt hot on Dick’s arm.
He ached to shrug it off, but there was something in Jason’s voice that made him feel frozen. He was missing something and it was big. Huge. But Dick couldn’t remember. He looked down at his hands, gripping covers of the bed in concentration. His knuckles were black and blue and bruised. The skin was split in several places. But… He didn’t remember that.
Dick closed his eyes. Sunday. Sunday. What had he been doing on Sunday? Did he even remember Saturday or Friday? “I think-- the last thing I remember was calling you about the-- no.” Dick stuttered to a halt.
Jason’s breath hitched slightly, but Dick paid it no mind.
“I was on the roof looking at-- I was looking for” Dick screwed his eyes shut in effort to keep the scene in his mind. He had been patrolling. He had been looking for something, someone. But who? Why? And when? He couldn’t remember. It felt like a fog had formed in his mind and the details had slipped beneath the surface of the haze.
Jason just waited, his eyes bore into him. Dick could feel the intensity of the stare even as his eyes stayed closed.
“I was looking for--” Dick suddenly felt something in the fog shift. That roof was familiar, it was one he had been on before, but not often. His eyes flew open. It hadn’t been Bludhaven at all. It was a roof in New York. It… He felt dizzy all of a sudden. “I was in New York?”
Dick pinched his lips together as the room tilted and swam.
Jason seemed to finally breathe. “New York? That’s the last thing you remember?”
Dick didn’t trust himself to speak or nod so he gave a half hearted wave of his hand.
Jason it seemed took that to mean yes, for he sighed. “You were tracking down some data for me. A shell company of a shell. It led to New York. That was five days ago.”
Dick looked back at his brother, his eyes wide. Five days. That was-- That was impossible. He couldn’t have lost five whole days.
“What happened?” Dick asked, feeling breathless.
“Nothing much.” Jason sighed and leaned back into his chair finally. “We found them, we fought them, we got them.”
Dick watched him wave his hands as he spoke smoothly about the whole affair as if bored.
“You took a blow to the head. I brought us back here. It’s a pretty nasty concussion. Not much else to say really.” Jason gave him a rather water smile. “You scared the crap out of me, if that helps.”
Dick licked his lips and did his best to look contrite. He couldn’t remember why he had taken the hit, but if it had been to protect Jason or complete a mission, then he couldn’t be sorry.
He could deal with a few lost days. Jason would tell him what he’d missed. It’d be in his notes and reports. Dick could deal. What he really wanted though, was sleep.
His head felt as if hammers were bashing against him. Every sound was a harsh blow and he could feel his concentration slipping.
“I’m a bit tired.” Dick slurred slightly.
Jason’s face morphed into something Dick didn’t understand. He was too tired to try analyze it.
“You can sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Jason reached over and patted Dick’s knee.
Dick leaned his head back into the pile of pillows keeping him propped up. He didn’t wait for Jason to help him to lay back down. He simply closed his eyes and knew no more.
Jason left the door to his room open so he would be able to hear Dick if he woke up again. It had been a long night. Each time Dick woke, he said the same thing. He couldn’t remember the week. He couldn’t even remember that they had had the same conversation multiple times.
Jason crossed the small apartment, and pulled a glass from the cupboard as he went to the sink. He closed his eyes letting the water run for a moment before placing the glass beneath the stream.
He was exhausted. Not just from the case but the waiting. The waiting was harder really. Waiting to see if Dick would wake up and know .
The water ran over the edge of the cup and flowed over his hand. Jason started and pulled back sloshing water further on himself.
He choked back a cry of frustration, and set the glass down hard on the counter, as he reached for a towel.
He couldn’t get it out of his head. He couldn’t get watching Dick-- No. He screwed his eyes shut. He wouldn’t. It would do no one any good to dwell on what was over and done.
The ring of the phone shook Jason out of his stupor. He glanced at the caller and bit back a curse.
“Hey, B.” He answered smoothly.
“Jay.” Bruce’s voice was quiet, and Jason felt a sliver of panic forming in his chest.
“What’s up?” Jason hoped he sounded calm.
“I just wanted to see how you were.”
Jason felt his heart speed up. “Good, you wouldn’t believe the beaches here. I--”
Bruce sighed. “Jason. I know.”
Jason’s heart stopped.
“Tim said you were in Gotham. Why did you lie to me?” Bruce didn’t sound angry, only sad, so Jason didn’t panic. Well he didn’t all together throw caution to the wind and hang up.
“Lie?” Jason hoped his voice was even.
“You said you and Dick were going to Greece.” Bruce’s words were slow and controlled. But far from the ire Jason would expect if the man really knew.
“Oh. well.. I didn’t want you to try and micromanage us. We just wanted to work a case--” Jason stuttered to a halt, before he could say ‘without you’.
Bruce was silent. Jason wondered if he were even so much as breathing. Jason knew he wasn’t.
“Tim said Dick was hurt.” Bruce said slowly. Worry seeped into his statement in a way that made Jason long for days long gone.
“Yeah, concussion. But I’ve got it.” Jason waited for Bruce to insist he bring Dick to the manor, for him to demand Alfred or Lessie look him over.
“Can-- can you tell me how bad it is?” Bruce whispered.
Jason closed his eyes. Bruce cared so deeply. It was easy to forget it sometimes, the way they fought. But Dick always had a way to bring it right back out of him. Jason had once envied the way the two connected. The bond seemed to surpass their old role as the dynamic duo. But then as Jason got older, he understood. It wasn’t that they cared more for each other, it was that they had suffered the same horrible loss. And though he might envy the understanding it had created, he could no longer feel the same desire for it.
“He’s okay. He’s woken up a few times, but doesn’t remember it.” Jason paused. Bruce was hanging on his every word. He knew he had to tread lightly. One slip and Bruce would find it, he would find it and dig.
“He doesn’t remember much about the week either.” Jason didn’t so much as move, he stood frozen in a sort of transfixed despair.
“Oh.” Bruce chewed on what Jason had said for a long time, before he spoke again. “He’s had a CT or--”
“Yeah. I had a friend look him over.” That much was true. Jason had had someone look Dick over. But the reasons he hadn’t called Bruce were a lie. A lie that burned in his mouth like acid
“And?” Bruce sounded breathless.
“They didn’t see anything that’ll be long lasting, just a really good concussion, but we’ll know in a few more days.” Jason paused, not sure if he should push his luck. “He might not ever get back the week but hopefully short term will start forming again.”
Jason hopped to God he didn’t remember the week. He closed his eyes and could still see the blood, the horrified look on Dick’s face. No, Jason would like to never see that again.
Bruce hummed. “Thank you for looking-- Can you keep me in the loop.”
Jason closed his eyes and bit back a snide retort. “Sure.”
Bruce couldn’t have missed the bitterness in Jason’s words. Jason cursed his inability to keep his anger in check. He didn’t need Bruce trying to worm his way into this, not while Jason was still trying to figure out what to do. No, If Bruce thought he needed to make up with him, he would come rushing in to help, and that-- that would end in disaster for everyone.
“Sorry. I’m tired. I’ll text you updates.” Jason said quickly.
“Thank you.” Bruce said quietly.
Jason hung up rather than respond. He had a lot to think about, and Bruce’s thanks didn’t help.
Jason wandered back to his room and watched his brother sleeping. He watched the rise and fall of his chest and wondered what to do. The last twelve hours had been a whirlwind of choices and now that he stood in the aftermath, he wondered if he had done the right thing.
Dick might gain his memories, and then what? He wouldn’t thank Jason for lying. He might never speak to him again.
Jason swallowed. He could live with that, he supposed. He could live in a world where Dick Grayson hated him. But he doubted that would be the man’s reaction. Sure it would be anger, but Jason knew it wouldn’t be directed at him.
Then there was the family to think about. Bruce would be devastated. It wouldn’t matter the reasons, he would find it hard to look either of them in the eye. Jason knew that pain intimately and wouldn’t wish it on his brother.
Dick slept fitfully. His face pinched in pain, and his fist opened and closed, as if he were dreaming something unpleasant. Jason swallowed. He hoped Dick wasn’t dreaming about it. Jason still had nightmares himself. No it was better Dick forgot forever. It was the only solution.
Jason stood leaning against the door frame watching as Dick laughed. A month had passed since the incident where Dick had lost a week of his memory. So far none of it had returned.
Dick sat on the batcomputer’s desk, clutching his stomach gasping from laughter. “Then you won’t believe what he did next!”
Bruce smiled from his seat looking up at Dick. “Well I won’t have to if you tell me.”
“He asked me if I could open it for him.”
Bruce’s eyebrows went up. “He asked you to help him open the safe?”
“Yeah. Can you believe that?” Dick’s eyes were positively alight.
Jason watched them from the shadows. Dick was happy. Bruce was happy.
It seemed strange that he had ever doubted his choice. After all, what was more important?
Jason slipped away from the two, deeper into the cavern. He walked through the forest of stalagmites and buried the guilt that had been his constant companion down. Jason was still dogged by dreams of what he had done.
Sparing Dick, sparing Bruce, he told himself, was noble. Jason flinched as water dripped from a stalactite onto his head. It was the cold that did it. He could see the splash of water still, in his mind's eye. The way Dick had moved in the rain leaving nothing but carnage behind.
Jason closed his eyes. Shauna, the ventriloquist, was gone. She would never control his brother again. Jason had made sure of it. She and all of her victims--Dick’s victims-- were lost to the bottom of Gotham Bay. The carnage had been cleaned, and Jason undermined all who went looking for the truth.
Sometimes he feared Dick suspected he was hiding something, but he was too good and too trusting to call Jason on it. At least he was for now. But Jason was in too deep. He would rather Dick grow to hate him then find out and hate himself.
No, Jason would never let Dick discover the truth. It was the least he could do, after all, he had done it to save him. Dick had only let her win control of his mind when She threatened to make Jason do it instead. Dick had killed for him.
So in turn he would save Dick. He would never know. Jason had taken care of everything. So Jason had buried it.
Dick could never find out-- no one could know what Nightwing had done. It would be the end of everything.