Work Text:
Jason really shouldn’t be here. It’s probably one of the worst ideas he’s had in awhile and he has a lot of those. But here he was, going against every will and doubt. You had grown since the last time he saw you. Mostly, he saw you on the newspaper or the new channel, or even some gossip magazine. You certainly grew into yourself, completely changed from the teenager you used to be. There was a certain air of elegance and pride that surrounded you now.
Somehow, despite his brain warning him to not get nostalgic or sentimental, he did. You even convinced him to take the helmet off, voicing how you wanted to look at him when you spoke to him. Had it been anyone else, he would’ve told them to screw off. But not you, never you. In this moment, you were yourself and he was himself. You were not the heir, set to inherit your family’s legacy, and he was not Red Hood, the crime lord who struck fear into the hearts of Gotham’s criminals.
You and him spoke quietly, reminiscing about the past.
“Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like if we ran away together? Like we said we would?” You asked, back turned towards Jason as you looked out the glass windows of your office. It sat at the top, towering the buildings around it. A rumble in the distance, an early sign of an oncoming storm.
“Where would we have gone?” Jason asked, still standing in the darkness. He hadn’t moved since he entered the office, keeping his distance from you. You turned to him, a thoughtful expression on your face. “I don’t know.”
You turned back to the windows, “I always wanted to go to Florence. Did you know I went there a summer ago? I had a business meeting and managed to catch a few hours for myself. I visited all the places I wanted to see, met so many people. It was beautiful. I just wish I had more time to…” Jason caught how sad your expression became through the reflection. Your lips, which had been turned upwards as you recounted your days in Florence, lost its light.
Despite being just a year older than him, you looked older than you were. With the clothes and makeup you wore on a daily basis, you looked like a completely different person. It wasn’t at all how he remembered you. You used to hate having to wear what your father made you wear. He knew you liked loose, soft clothes unlike the clothes that clung to your skin and drew unwanted attention from strangers.
Who you were years ago versus who you were now felt like catching the eye of a passing stranger Jason thought he knew before realizing he had no clue who you were. It was strange and uncomfortable. Was it possible to know someone then realize you had no idea who they were now?
Jason thought that’s exactly how you must’ve felt seeing him again after all these years. You and him had certainly changed, for better or for worse he wasn’t sure.
You turned back to him, a forced smile on your lips as if you were playing the part of the party host. “Can I offer you something to drink? All I have is water and coffee, in case you want something else.”
Jason shook his head, “I’m not going to stay long.”
You nodded silently, smile fading. “So, why did you come? Clearly you weren’t just passing by to chit-chat.”
Jason opened his mouth to answer, but found himself unable to say anything. Jason could admit the truth and say he wanted to see you. Or he could lie and say he was following up on a lead, which somehow involved you. But he found himself unable to tell you the truth or lie to you.
You took his silence as an answer, nodding slowly. “Of course, you don’t have to tell me your business. Not anymore, at least.” You turned away and returned to your desk, rearranging the papers. “If it has anything to do with my father, then it is my business.”
Jason grimaced at the thought of your father. He never liked the man, hating how he treated you. He treated you more like a pawn in his game of chess than a human being. Jason wondered what would’ve happened if he hadn’t died. Would you still fall into the clutches of your father and be forced to mold yourself into whatever person people thought you were? No, Jason thought, he wouldn’t let that happen. He would’ve done everything in his power to prevent it.
“No, unfortunately. Your father isn’t on my radar, unless there’s a reason he should be?” Jason asked, bemused as he raised an eyebrow. You laughed softly, head falling to the side as you did. “No, not that I’m aware of. But I’ll give you a heads up if he should be.”
Jason joined in on your laughter, despite not wanting to. It was easy to laugh with you, easy to let go for just a few moments, a moment hidden away in the darkness for no one else but you and him.
Despite everything, Jason still thought you looked beautiful. You never liked your laugh, an insecurity you’ve had since you were young. He’d overheard your father constantly reprimand you to “laugh prettier”, whatever that meant. He liked your laugh, especially the way your nose would scrunch up and your cheeks would stretch from ear to ear from how wide your smile was. Sometimes, when you laughed, you let out a snort which made you laugh even harder while your cheeks flushed from embarrassment.
“You been okay?” Jason asked once the laughter between the two of you died. You sighed and twisted your lips, “Okay isn’t the word I would use, but it’s been… okay.”
“You still talking to Bruce and Alfred?” Jason asked, pressing a bit further. You shook your head, “We did for a bit, but Father kept me busy once I finished school. He said I needed to focus on the company more than your family. Especially after you… died.”
You looked tired as you explained even further, revealing the layers of isolation your father put you through. You’d been close to them when you became friends with Jason, Bruce tentatively approving the relationship while Alfred wholeheartedly approved it. He said it was good that Jason had a friend, especially since Jason’s predecessor had a penchant for being anti-social.
You and Bruce understood each other in a way. You both came from the same world, both Gotham royalty under constant spotlight by the society around them. Jason couldn’t relate to that, something Jason never quite understood. Yet despite this, you were his friend (You and him could’ve been more had he not died, at least that’s what he thought would’ve happened).
“Yeah, sorry about that whole ‘being dead’ thing. Wasn’t exactly in my bucket list to die and come back to life.” Jason said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. You looked amused when he said so.
“Right, of course. You might as well add that to your bucket list, unless you don’t have one?” You asked, a teasing smile growing on your lips. Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“Of course I have one, you think stealing Batman’s hubcaps wasn’t on the list?”
You laughed again, even harder this time. Jason found it easy to make you laugh, sometimes he thought you were faking it to make him feel better. He later found out you actually thought he was funny. Which was surprising because most people thought he was insufferable.
“I missed this,” You said quietly once your laughter died. “This was nice, we should do it again sometime.”
Jason found himself nodding, despite the initial thought of telling you it was a bad idea. You and him didn’t mix. Especially now. You were one of Gotham’s shining stars, untouchable and unattainable. He was a crime lord and vigilante with a thing for guns. You and him-- it wasn’t supposed to exist. Maybe though, maybe you and him could exist in this tiny space of time. Hidden away from prying eyes and overwhelming weight of legacies and responsibilities.
After a quiet moment, he said, “I should go. Have to go do crime lord stuff now.” He patted the sides of his gun holsters, more of a reminder for himself just how dangerous his life was and how dragging you into it was a bad idea. You stood up from your desk almost immediately but still with grace, “Let me show you out then-”
He waved you off, “Nah, I got it.”
“Oh, right, of course.” You said, shoulders drooping low. The sight of it made Jason want to take back his words, the sad look on your face still managing to make him feel as though he just accidentally stepped on a cat’s tail.
“Get home safe, and don’t be out too long. That storm looks like it’s going to be a bad one.” Jason said, motioning to the oncoming storm. Patrol would be difficult if it did storm badly, although it would at least keep most Gothamites off the streets.
You nodded, “Same goes for you. Don’t die-- again, I mean.”
Jason let out a chuckle, “Of course, as you wish.” He teasingly bowed, making a bit of a show of it just to hear and see you laugh one last time. Your cheeks became flushed, head ducking down to hide the growing smile on your face. That specific reference to Princess Bride had never failed to bring a smile out of you. The both of you knew exactly what it meant, but neither of you would ever address it.
There would be a time and place for it, just not yet.
