Chapter Text
Truffles were something Jason had come to associate with her. The small chocolates were the payments he received whenever he helped with her homework. They were the punishments he received, thrown at his head when he teased her for only needing his help because she was always half-asleep during class. They would snack on them, making messes of their fingertips, as they worked, laughing at each other whenever one would complain about a teacher having it out for them. The small bouts of silence that fell in between their words were always peaceful, though they rarely lasted more than a few minutes, then the laughter would start up again. The truffles were sweet, she was too, at least to him. It was a kindness that not many at Gotham Academy had granted him, though he didn’t mind much, not when he sat next to her, watching her take a bite out of a truffle of her own, shooing the thoughts from his head when he begun to wonder just how much sweeter the truffle would taste from her lips. They were friends, classmates, but not lovers, no matter how much his heart would wish it. It was a silly high school crush, one that he was convinced nothing would come of.
“Jason?” He was broken from his spiraling thoughts by her voice, just as sweet as she was. She smiled at him, quirking a brow. “Somethin’ on my face?” She teased. Though, now that he wasn’t lost in between a daydream and an argument, he noticed to smudged chocolate on the upper corner of her lip. He smiled ever so slightly.
“Yeah actually.” He pointed on his own face to where the chocolate was on hers. “Some chocolate.” She stuck her tongue out, trying to lick the candy off of her face, unsuccessfully. He chuckled at her failed attempt. “More to the left.” She swiped her tongue again. “Up a bit.” Her tongue missed again and he laughed, reaching towards her face. “Here.” He gently wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb, gathering the chocolate onto the digit and pulling away. He realized too late what he had done, both their faces burning crimson. “Uh- I, I’m sorry, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t mean to, um, do that. Sorry.” He stammered, watching her blink at him. After moments of anxiety flashing through him, she broke out into a fit of giggles, her cheeks still red.
“No worries. Thanks for getting it.” She turned back to her textbook, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, the soft smile still stretching across the skin of her face.
“Yeah, no problem.” He murmured quietly, looking down at the sweet remnant of the truffle painted across the pad of his thumb. He pondered, and internally fought himself over the morality of licking the chocolate from his finger. Would it be weird? Would it break some unspoken rule? Would she judge him? He tried to rationalize with himself, tried to give himself reasons to just taste it. What morals could he possibly be going against, it was just chocolate. What unspoken rule would he be breaking by indulging himself? She wasn’t going to lick it up, though the thought of her lips wrapping around his finger had the blood rushing back to his face. Why would she judge him? She was his friend, and she knew of hiss affinity for chocolate, it was part of the reason she was always gifting him truffles. He decided to allow himself a taste. Lifting his thumb to his lips, he flattened his tongue over its surface. He was right. Her truffles were much sweeter after having been graced with the touch of her lips, though the guilt of the thought was bitter on his tastebuds.
***
“I can’t believe you!” She whisper-yelled. “My parents are gonna kill me, Jay!” The teacher supervising detention had left the room for a few minutes, and she had taken the opportunity to dig into Jason.
“It’s not my fault! You can blame Sam for ratting us out!” He whisper-yelled back. She scoffed, tossing her pencil at his head.
“It absolutely is your fault! You’re the one who passed a note saying that Ms. Smith looks like a Walmart Brand version of Jennifer Coolidge!” He caught the pencil and threw it back.
“You know I’m right!” he said.
“I mean- Well, yeah, but still. Aren’t you supposed to be the good one out of the two of us?” He huffed out a laugh.
“Smarter doesn’t mean better, babes.”
“You dick.” She glared at him, her brows furrowing further when he said,
“No, I’m Jason. Dick’s my brother.”
“I hate you.” She said, turning away from him. Silence enveloped them for moments, the only noise in the room the slow ticking of the clock hung high on the white-brick walls. Finally, slowly, he took in a breath and spoke again.
“’S a shame you hate me, or I’d invite you to escape with me.” His face broke into a shit-eating grin, looking at the back of her head, waiting for her to turn around. Her eyes turned towards him first, pulling her head along after them. He shrugged and continued, “But if you’d rather stay here and sit in detention, that’s your choice I guess.” Her annoyance couldn’t withstand his smile, and not for the first time, she cursed her affinity for the boy.
“My parents would kill me, and where would we even go?” She argued.
“We could go to the Batburger that’s nearby, and don’t worry, if your parents do kill you, I’ll get you the prettiest roses for your funeral.” The muffled click-clack-click-clack of the detention moniter’s shoes echoing down the hall grew closer.
“Oh fine, let’s go.”
“Yes!” He exclaimed and wasted no time in hesitating jumping to his feet, and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He ran to the window and unlatched the lock, sliding the glass pane up and swinging his leg out.
“Jason, are you crazy?!” She stood up. “This is the second floor!” He looked at her and motioned for her to put her bag on and follow.
“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I’ve jumped outta windows way higher than this.” Swinging his other leg out the window and releasing the ledge from his grasp, he fell.
“Jason!” She ran to the window, and stuck her head out, glancing down. He stood safely on the grass below and waved for her to jump too. “No way! You might be crazy, but I’m not!”
“You’ll be fine, I’ll catch you!” He yelled up. She glanced back towards the classroom door at the approaching sound of the teacher’s shoes. Glancing back at Jason, and then to the door, she called down.
“Promise?” He nodded and yelled up again,
“Swear on my life!” Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she swung her legs out of the window, facing the classroom, and let go of the ledge just as the teacher swung open the door. There was no time to scream as she fell, the air not leaving her lungs, until she laded safely in her companion’s arms, eyes squeezed shut, and arms pressed to her torso. He put her feet on the ground, but kept one hand on her shoulder, and the other on her waist to steady her. Slowly, she opened one eye, and then, seeing she was, in fact, safe, she opened the other and laughed, throwing her arms around Jason.
“Oh, that was terrifying! And amazing! But mostly terrifying!” He held her and laughed along with her, enjoying the feeling of having her so close.
“You two better get your sorry butts back up here!” A shrill voice shrieked and looking up they saw the teacher leaning out the window, shaking a fist at them. The two of them still laughing, Jason took her hand and pulled her along, running across the campus, the teacher’s yells becoming fainter and fainter with distance.
***
She had been jumpy, paranoid, and much more small. Every time he saw her, she seemed less like herself, and Jason had begun to worry. He was always a very expressive person when he was excited, jumping up and talking loudly, flinging his arms around, using his hands to speak more than his mouth, though he never became less vigilant, less observant. He had been on the other side of the room as she sat atop his bed, while he walked back and forth, mouth running a mile a minute. Her fidgeting didn’t go unnoticed by him, it was different than her normal absentminded actions, and he did his best to tone down his movements, picking up on how her fidgeting didn’t consist of its usual picking at fabric, or flipping a pencil between her fingers, or moving just to get energy out, and instead was made up of small movements of preparation, her body on high alert, ready to jump or run. He didn’t know what was happening in her life, but he knew that she was scared, and that he was going to get to the bottom of it. He slowed to a stop, and cautiously moved to sit on the bed next to her, still keeping a comfortable distance, he hated seeing her so fearful.
He noticed her abnormal behavior again when their teacher was yelling at the class. The louder his voice got, the smaller she became, curling in on herself, her head pressed down and back into her shoulders, a protective reflex. Her eyes were darting around the room much too fast, her breathing even more so. He would have offered up his left kidney to the devil if it meant he could ease her anxiety even the slightest bit. He would have willingly given his heart instead, but she held it in her grasp, and with every shaky breath that left her lungs, her fingernails dug in deeper, it was no longer his to give. Once the bell rang, she was out the door in the blink of an eye, and he struggled to keep up, even with all his agility and practice. Lost in the crowd, he stood still, eyes scanning through the people passing by, searching for her, finding only disappointment. All hope was not lost, however, as there were many empty and forgotten rooms in the old Gotham Academy buildings that the two of them had transformed into hideouts, and with determination flowing through his veins, he made his way to each and every one of them, the flow diminishing with each empty room, until he came to the last one. Carefully, he opened the door, and in the far corner of the room, she sat, curled into a ball and rocking herself back and forth, breaths heaving in and out of her chest, and quiet sobs falling from her lips.
“Y/n?” He spoke softly, stepping into the dark room and shutting the door behind him. She flinched, her breathing becoming even more erratic. He took a few steps closer, still far away, still cautious, scared of startling her. After a few more labored breaths, he lifted her head up just enough to see him.
“Jason?” Her voice was so small, she sounded so meek, so fragile. In that moment she seemed to Jason like a baby mouse hiding from the large cat that was the world. He took a few more steps closer, and spoke again,
“Hey, Doll.” She lifted her face some more. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks were flushed bright red, and there was a glob of snot preparing to fall down to her top lip. She would have been an unsightly view to anyone else then, but to him she was just as beautiful as when she was beaming after beating him at a video game or laughing at one of his stupid jokes. He finished walking to her and crouched down to her level. “How can I help?” Those words sent her into another fit of sobs as she shook her head twice, and so he lifted up the hem of his shirt and used it to wipe under her nose, which had finally started to drip. He dropped the hem, and she shoved her face into the crook of his neck, collapsing in his embrace, grasping the shirt over his heart. Jason sat back, pulling her with him, reached up underneath her shirt to rub large, slow circles on her back, humming softly to her. “It’s gonna be okay, Y/n. I know it’s not okay right now, but it will be, I’ll make sure of it.” Time slowed and moments passed at an excruciating pace, with frantic, panicked breathing finally morphing into a healthier pattern, and her tense muscles going limp against him. His hand’s movements came to a stop and rested on the slope of her back as she lifted her head from its place between his neck and shoulder. He looked down at her, and the hold she had on his heart tightened. Moving one of his hands to her cheeks, he used to back of his knuckles to gently wipe the droplets from her cheeks, giving her a soft smile. Her eyes shifted downwards to where her grip was wrinkling his tee shirt, and she sighed. He gently bumped his forehead against hers and said, “Please, Y/n, tell me what’s going on with you.” Her eyelids fell shut, and she sighed.
“I can’t, I’m sorry.” It hurt him, her secrecy. They were best friends, they shared so much, he thought she should be able to tell him anything and everything. His own hypocrisy slapped him across the face as he realized there was no way he could expect that from her while he was still keeping secrets of his own. His heightened emotional intelligence truly was a blessing in so many ways. And in that moment, foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, and eyes closed, it was decided that later that night he would be honest with her. She already had his heart, she might as well have his secrets too.
***
Roughly about an hour after the sun had set, he leapt from roof to roof, rushing to her, hellbent on revealing his hand, hoping it would cause the house to gracefully fall, and for her cards to be shown as well. Gotham’s gusts were sharp and cold, but his bright cape was thick and warm, and his resolve burned even hotter, and temperature was no concern of his as he flew atop the city’s skyline. The journey, though not long, was tortuous for his nerves. Despite the fact that he had made up his mind about telling her about his secret, there was a terror rooted deep in his heart that her hand would grip the poor thing too tightly, and it would finally break. At long last, he reached her neighborhood, and dropped down from the rooftops to run in the shadows. His footsteps silent, he approached her house, eyes trained on the golden light emanating from her window. She lived on the ground floor, making everything much easier for him. Jogging closer to her window, still hidden in the darkness, his eyes widened behind the domino mask. Staring at her, he felt her hand clamp down, and his heart began to crack, she wasn’t exaggerating much when she had said her parents would kill her. She stood in her room, hands clamped over her ears, and her back pressed to the door, which was trying desperately to burst open, held by her feet, spread wide and low. Her beautiful eyes were squeezed shut, and the tears streaming down her face and onto the hardwood floor sparkled, a beautiful detail in a hideous painting. The worst part of the scene, at least to Jason, was the booming, violent voice coming from behind the door, and the repeated pounding of a fist against its wood. The breaks in his heart could wait, for it was her heart that needed protection in that moment, not his. Wasting no time, Jason slid open the window and hopped inside, silent. He padded over to the door and put his hands against it, helping her to barricade it.
“Hey.” He murmured, just above a whisper, her dad didn’t need to know they had company just yet. Her eyes shot open as her head whipped to look in his direction, and her hands fell from her ears. God, the look in her eyes sent the cracks in his heart splitting wider, but it wasn’t the time, so he pushed his heart aside again.
“Robin?” She whispered in disbelief. He offered her a tight smile and nodded.
“Grab a bag and pack some things, clothes, and other necessities.” He said, still holding the door shut. “Then climb out the window and run to the diner on the corner two streets down from here. Grab a table and I’ll catch up with you in a couple a’ minutes.” Her eyes flickered between his cyber-white ones, and she tried to speak.
“Wha-“ She began.
“Just go, I promise I’ll meet you there in less than fifteen minutes.” His voice was firm, but not angry, and with a nod, she rushed to put together a small bag. Once she was out the window, Jason swung the door open and rushed at the man yelling in the doorway, pushing him back.
The diner’s lights were bright and buzzing, and she felt very out of place in the nearly empty diner, looking so disheveled. When a waitress, a sweet looking, plump, middle-aged woman with dark brown curls, and creases at the corners of her eyes, approached, she said she was waiting for somebody, but despite the kindness of the server, still felt awkward and anxious. The minutes passed all too slowly, but also much too quickly, the time shown on her phone never to her liking. Her arms hugged her bag to her chest, and her face looked down at the table, counting the dots in the faux stone. She glanced up, however, when the diner’s door swung open with a ding of the bell. Robin walked in, and rushed towards her once their eyes met, sitting down across from her.
“Hey, are you okay?” He asked, tilting his head to the side in a much too familiar way. Her suspicions grew, especially considering that with the lack of adrenaline and fear clouding her mind, her critical thinking skills were returning. She didn’t voice her suspicions, however, and instead responded with a quiet,
“I’m okay, thanks. Are you?” He smiled at her.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” The smile fell slightly, and a concerned crease appeared between his brows. “How long has that been going on for?” He asked, but she wasn’t given time to answer as the same waitress from before approached with a small smile on her face, clearly amused that the vigilante was out with a girl. She took their orders, and Y/n noticed another suspicious likeness. That was Jason’s order, he always ate in large quantities, usually getting two burgers, some fries, and a strawberry and chocolate shake. Y/n didn’t have a very large appetite that night, still a bit shaken up, only ordering a small fry and a soda. Sipping on it while they waited for their food, she used her drink as a distraction, trying to avoid her hero’s gaze. “Hey,” his voice was soft, and his head dipped, trying to meet her eyes. Relenting, she looked up, staring into the whites of his mask. He kept his voice soft. “Can I tell you something?” She took a deep breath and murmured, her voice just above a whisper.
“You’re Jay. I already know.” His eyebrows raised, but before he could question her, she went on. “Your fidgeting is the same, your voice is the same, you look the same, you showed up in my room randomly, your order was the same. I mean, you’re my best friend, you think after being around your alter ego for a few minutes I wouldn’t be able to figure it out?” He broke into a laugh, the sound echoing in the empty restaurant.
“You’re good.” He admitted, then his voice took on a serious tone. “But you didn’t answer my question before. How long has that been going on for?” She sighed. Staring down into her soda, watching the ice cubes bump into one another.
“A couple months now.”
“Is that why you’ve been acting different lately?” He pressed.
“Have I been? I mean, I guess that would probably be it, it has made me more anxious.” He frowned.
“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He said. She shook her head.
“The only thing you should be sorry for is fighting him.” He opened his mouth, ready to ask her what she meant by that, but the waitress reappeared carrying the trays with their food. Thanking her, and biting into his burger while he waited for her to walk out of earshot, he then spoke,
“Why should I be sorry about that?” She aggressively picked at her fries.
“Because, Robin, now how am I supposed to go back? He’ll think that I ratted him out, now he’s gonna be so much worse!” She whisper-yelled, something he had realized was a specialty of hers. His face twisted into a confused grimace.
“You’re not going back. You can’t, not there, not to be treated like that.” He argued, taking long sip from one of his smoothies. She rolled her eyes, and noticing that she ran out of fries, reached over to steal a handful from him, ignoring his half-hearted grumble about thievery being the only thanks he got.
“Then where am I supposed to go? That’s where I live, I don’t have anywhere else to go.” He took a moment to finish off the first burger, and to wash it down with some fries.
“Sure, you do. You always have a home in the manor. B loves you, and so does Al, you know that.” She gaped at him, unjustly surprised at how easily he would offer up his own home to her.
“You really are outta your damn mind, aren’t’cha?” He grinned at her, laughing.
“Completely and totally, certifiably insane.” He said, causing her to smirk.
“Crazy enough to be locked up in Arkham.” She added. They both giggled, and finished their food, in almost complete silence, Y/n still stealing some of his food, though it surprisingly went without complaint from him after the second time. Just before they finished off their drinks she spoke up. “Are you sure, Robin? That it’ll be okay with B? I don’t wanna intrude.” He smiled reassuringly at her,
“You know B’s practically addicted to takin’ in strays. It’ll be fine.” She smiled back at him.