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The cave echo’s the quiet cries of bats, the usual chill rushing through Dick’s frame.
They really need to get a heater for down here, don’t they?
He’s been down here working on repairs on his grapple for a while, he’s always liked the cave. There’s something strangely comforting about it.
His attention is drawn away when he hears the engine of a motorcycle, and he’s immediately aware that Jason must need something.
He’s proven correct when the man in question strides past him, a small grunt in greeting as he walks. Dick just smiles back, before going back to his repairs.
He huddles deeper inside his coat, absentmindedly noting how it got colder, a gust of wind must’ve blown in when Jason entered.
***
“Hey!! Jason, buddie wait up!” Dick calls from his car, rushing up to walk beside his brother. It’s family night at the manor and despite Jason’s dislike of big meetings like this, even he’s not immune from Alfred’s disappointed stare, god that stare could crumple governments.
”Jesus, you’re way to cheerful Dickface.” The younger man grumbles, pulling the large door open with a soft creak.
Dick just grins, ruffling his brothers hair, to which he gets shoved into the wall in response.
”Aww, you know you missed me, there was this crazy case at work!” Dick begins to happily talk about his cases as he recovers from his fall and they continue down the large hallway, Jason giving small quips and grumbles every now and again.
Dick grins when they reach the large mirror, turning to try and sort out his messy uniform, but when he’s patting down the jacket he catches something out of the corner of his eye.
Jason’s stride doesn’t break, shifting past him as Dick watches through the Mirror.
He goes to look away but hesitates because Jason’s reflection is… glitching? It’s like, lagging behind before moving quickly to catch up, like a game character.
What? He rubs his eyes, but by the time he opens them once more Jason is past the mirror and down the hall.
He feels his hands shake softly, a soft ping of anxiety shifting through his frame.
What the hell was that, surely it was just his imagination, human reflections don’t glitch.
”Oi, Dickhead hurry up!” Jason’s ruff voice echos the hall.
Dick shakes his head, taking a deep breath as he shoves his hands deep inside his pockets.
God, he must be really sleep deprived if he’s hallucinating, he’ll try to sneak a nap before dinner.
***
Dick slams his fist into the grunts face, the man’s head snapping back with a crack against the concrete. They’ve just brought down one of Black Mask’s drug trades, Jason tagging along incase Black Mask himself decided to show his face.
As Dick lifts himself up, he wipes some blood from where it landed across his chest plate, grimacing when it just spreads it across.
”I’m going to have to beg Alfred to clean this for me, I don’t know how you clean all the blood yourself Hood, honestly.” He grumbles, picking up his baton from where it laid abandoned from the ground.
He hesitates, hearing no response. He tenses up and turns in a swift movement, preparing himself to see Jason across the floor bloodied.
Thats not what he sees, but in the back of his mind he wishes it was.
Jason was standing over a dead man, blood circling their bodies like some type of sick stage, his helmet had a crack through it showed one luminesce eye, his pupils practically pinpricks as the whites of his eyes look impossibly small.
The way he was standing over the corpse, the moonlight making him look nothing short of a predator.
But no, what the main issue was is that look.
It’s how a lion stares at his prey, it’s how a starving man looks upon food.
It’s nothing short of ravenous. Like he’s looking at a burger he’s about to eat.
But… he’s not looking at a burger, he’s looking at a man.
Then, he shifts, his pupils grow wider and his stance loosens, his gaze locking into Dick.
”Fucking hell, I’ve broken another mask, I wished I left the fucker who did this alive, I would make him regret it. Come on wing, I can’t be seen out like this.” He grumbles, pushing past Dick and grappling up to a roof.
Dick inhales sharply, taking one last look at the corpse before turning, grappling after Hood.
(He can’t help but think, in the back of his mind, if something is seriously wrong with Jason.)
***
Dick sighs as he pushes into the room, blinking as he hears loud laughter.
”Look how tiny you were Jason!” He hears Barbra’s giggling coming short after and as he turns the corner he sees Jason leaning against the counter as Barbra holds up a small Polaroid picture he remembers Bruce printing out shortly after his death.
He moves forward, laughing as he compares the picture with Jason.
”God, lil bro! I forgot how tiny you were!” He teases, taking great enjoyment in the offended gasp.
He hears the two bickering, but he can’t help but grab the photo, frowning as a sense of pure wrongness comes over him.
He holds the picture up, his confusion rising as he noticed how much brighter Jason’s skin used to be, compared to the now borderline clear it is now.
Now you can see vains, then you can only see tan skin.
That’s strange, he thinks as he begins to look closer.
Jason’s limbs used to be quite evenly proportional, fitting perfectly with his frame. Now, he can’t help but notice how his wrists go a bit too far down, how his fingers are just that bit too long, how his shoulders are freakishly wide, how his legs are just a bit too long when compared to his torso.
Dick feels his breathing grow heavier as he begins to go into the finer details.
How his eyes used to be a beautiful gray-blue, and are now a nothing short of unnatural green that take up just a bit too much space, the white of his eyes pushed to the side. How his teeth used to be square and a bit crooked, and are now inhumanly straight and just a bit too sharp. How they used to be pearly white, and are now just that bit gray.
He’s never noticed this before, but now he can’t help but notice it all. Notice every tiny detail that is wrong.
How wrong is voice is, deep and rumbling, how wrong his breathing is, deep and far too slow, how he no longer has dimples, how his hair is just too silky, how he no longer smells of the robin suit and Bruce, but now smells like gunpowder and… death?
What is going on? No, no there has to be a reasonable explanation.
When he looks up to the others, Barbra and Jason are now leaving the room, Jason walking strangely, like it’s the only way he can walk with how uncanny his body now is.
His mind is practically screaming uncanny valley, his adrenaline rushing and body tense.
He clenches his hands and rapidly shakes his head.
No, it’s just because of how old the picture is, it’s how growing works, he’s just gone through puberty, it’s how it works.
(But that’s not how it works, he knows it, but it has to be, what other explanation is there?)
((If later, late at night, when he tries to bring up a memory of Jason, a boy with green eyes and a puff of white hair comes up, he shakes it off, blaming it on not sleeping, and if he couldn’t make out the features of his face, well, he must be really exhausted.))
***
It’s warm in the room, movie night just ended and it’s near silent as everyone present just entertains themself, the fire crackling as Dick leans back with a sigh.
He hears someone raise from their chair, and a glimpse of white tells him it’s Jason walking past, he feels Jason’s heavy hand ruffle his hair as he walks.
Fucking hell, that’s cold!
A shudder runs down his entire frame as he stared in shock at Jason’s shrinking image. No humans hands are that cold.
He clenches his jaw and grumbled to himself, shifting in his blankets, Jason must’ve been eating icecream with his hands for that.
He remembers a time, ages ago with Jason as they compete for most icecream ate, grinning softly at the memory of his puffy black-white hair.
Wait.
White?
Jason’s hair wasn’t white, his skin wasn’t so clear, his limbs weren’t that long, his eyes certain weren’t green.
Why is he remembering it like that?
What’s wrong with him?
(What’s wrong with Jason?)
He tries to brush is off, but a sinking feeling tells him something is wrong.
He doesn’t know what though.
***
Dick grins as he pulls out his phone, flicking it to the camera. It’s a rare moment where Jason and Bruce are actually getting along, they were playing chess in utter silence yes, but it’s better then screaming.
He lifts the camera, preparing for it to load.
As it appears, he blinks down, this is such a cute pi-
Where is Jason?
He looks up, Jason is still sitting right there, he looks down, the phone isn’t picking him up.
His face scrunches, as suddenly he’s there as if he never left.
What the fuck…
He looks between the phone and Jason, before inhaling sharply.
Something has been wrong.
He has just realised that something is Jason.
What the fuck is going on.
The too long limbs, the freezing air around him, his hands cold as ice, his strange hungry-like stare for the dead.
What the fuck is wrong with Jason.
He’s known Jason came back with a screw or two loose, he didn’t think he came back inhuman.
He didn’t think he came back like this.
He thinks back to before, before he died, before everything went wrong.
He searches desperately for a clear memory. Why can’t he find a clear memory?!
Why can he only remember this teenager with a white streak and green eyes.
Why can’t he remember Jason’s face.
What the fuck is he?
His breathing is harsh, and when he looks up he catches Jason That thing’s stare. That unnerving green gaze.
He thinks the thing tried to talk, he doesn’t hear them over the loud ringing in his ear and the pounding of his heart.
What the fuck is going on.
He bites his lip, staring in pure horror.
He doesn’t know what brought Jason back but it clearly didn’t do its job.
This monster Isn’t his fucking brother.
He feels a sense of realisation, it’s never been his brother. It’s been a monster in his brothers image.
He stares at Jason for a couple more seconds before walking off silently, he hears confused talking behind him.
Something brought Jason back, and it brought him back wrong. It brought him back as a fucking monster.
It brought him back, and Dick dimly wishes he could believe that.