Chapter Text
“He's turned off his suit tracker, again.”
Jason snorts, crossing his arms and leaning far back in his booth. “I do that every other week.”
Tim frowns, pouring a bucket load of syrup on his pancakes. They're in a diner just outside of Gotham. It's 3am, they are the only current customers, and Jason’s wired over his fifth cup of coffee. As is Tim. “He only answers my texts when it has to do with school.”
That was a little more concerning. Dick is an avid texter, will send Jason silly videos and memes every hour it sometimes feels like. If Tim can only get him to respond when he needs homework help then something might actually be amiss. Still- “It's a brooding phase.”
Tim looks unamused, shoving a fork full of pancakes into his mouth. “Are we supposed to pretend that you aren't also worried right now?”
Yes, that's exactly what they should be doing. “Dick’s a big boy, he can handle himself.” Jason says, mentally working out how he could triangulate where he currently is based on where his tracker turned off and where it was previously. “Maybe he just needs some time. He got pretty heated in that argument with Dad.”
It feels weird, calling Bruce Dad. His hatred has settled somewhat over the years, but it's mostly his therapist urging him to reconnect that's making him give the man a chance again. Once she had realized that Jason wanted to salvage his family instead of estrange himself, his therapist put her backbone into it and has been cleaning up Jason’s life one expensive therapy session at a time. There's still a long way to go, but he's made up with Tim after everything that happened, and they along with Dick act like family once more, if not a little dysfunctional. Damian was another story, but Damian is also currently hanging out with some monks learning that peace is indeed an option, so that's a problem for another day.
“It's more than that.” Tim protests, draining his fifth or sixth coffee as well. Jason makes a note to put some sleeping powder in one of his next ones. The skin below his eyes are dark and baggy. “Jason, come on, we both know that you were going to check in sooner or later. I have finals for the next month, so I can't do it.”
Well, he shouldn't have started college classes while still in high school. That's his fault. Still- “Yeah yeah I know. You know where he is now?”
Tim’s eyes narrow. “What part of he turned off his suit tracker do you not understand?”
Jason stares at him. Tim stares back.
Tim sighs. “Yeah, I know where he is. You paying for this or me?”
He snorts. “Bruce is.” Which means Tim is, since Tim’s money comes straight from their father. Jason’s is a little less legal.
His younger brother rolls his eyes, placing a few twenties on the table before ordering an ice cream sundae. The young waitress, who had been subtly flirting with Jason this entire time, takes their order with a sultry smile. “It'll be out in a minute, dear.”
Tim watches her go. Jason does not. “He's going to be upset.” He says. “You know how he gets when he's all broody.”
“Or-” Tim says, “He gotten himself into something and he doesn't want to drag the rest of us into it.”
Jason pauses. He curses.
Because that's exactly the kind of thing Dick would do.
He calls Tim the next day, at 4am this time. He answers on the third ring. “Mwhat?”
“We were both right.” Jason says, sends Tim an article he's been rereading for the past half hour. “Something is wrong, and he is brooding.”
It's quiet as Tim scans the article. “Shit. In the Robin costume?! Unfair.”
Shit indeed. Jason stares at the passage detailing the near mutilation of a group of criminals, all of which say they were attacked by a masked vigilante. He doesn't watch the video. “When'd he start stabbin’ people?”
“Go figure it out.” Tim mumbles. “He doesn't tell us shit nowadays.”
Jason hangs up, packs a bag. Dick has been slowly separating from them for a while now. Jason didn't mention it before since it was more leaving the city than it was leaving them. He still made time to hang out with Tim, to visit Jason even when he didn't want him to. It was only after his heated argument with Bruce that he started going almost fully non-contact.
(Mostly. This is still Dick Grayson they're talking about. Jason called him two days ago and they talked for a near hour about random bullshit, because Jason rarely ever calls and that means something. It was a checkup call, because he was worried, but Dick was acting fine, normal, so he thought it was nothing. He forgets his brother can act.)
This wasn't good. Bruce would be no help (like normal), Tim has finals and Damian is halfway across the world. That leads wrangling the eldest brother to him, and that is not Jason’s forte. He's fine at it when Dick is acting normal, is more likely to make things worse when Dick decides to act like he truly is Bruce Wayne’s son and the brooding is genetic. Still, Tim asked for his help and Jason is actually kinda getting a little worried now.
He scowls at his packed bag, throws a few more things inside before shutting it. This shouldn't take long, but he knows better - even if it only takes two days, he might go through four pairs of clothes, depending on how bloody they get.
The things he does for family.
Detroit is definitely not his favorite city, nor is it in the top three. He's been a few times, and never has he wanted to go back after he's left. It definitely does not help that newspapers slandering Robin and masked vigilantes in general are just scattered all over the place.
He parks his motorcycle near Dick’s apartment, finds that he's not there and sighs, because it would be easier to just walk to the police station then it would be to drive and find a parking spot closer by. He could use the workout - he's been slacking lately on his training. Given how his main weapons are guns, and he rarely ever climbs buildings the way Dick does, he hasn't really needed to keep up on his training.
It's a chilly night, the streets startlingly empty. Probably because everyone is afraid of getting their mouth carved in, Jesus Dick- by a vigilante. If Jason doesn't talk some sense into him, Bruce will get involved.
Neither of them want that.
He passes a shivering homeless girl on the corner and pauses. She doesn't even look at him, stuck in her own thoughts.
“Hey.” He says, the bleeding heart that he is. “Pretty sure there's a homeless shelter a few blocks north of here. Probably got free food and heated rooms.”
She takes a moment to even realize he's talking to her. It's not the best look, a grown man talking to a teenage girl, but he is only nineteen himself, and he hasn't really matured enough to not look like a senior in high school. Anyway, the girl nods but does not move, eyes distant and unfocused.
Jason sighs. He blames Dick for rubbing off on him. Children are the future and all that bullshit. The only kid Jason interacts with is Tim and four years ago he tried to brutally murder him. Granted, he was angry, Lazarus Pit levels angry, but still.
“It's dark, I understand the fear.” He has to try. “I'm walking that way too - we could walk together.”
He kind of expects it to backfire and for the girl to find him creepy and run. That, thank God, does not happen, and he finds himself escorting the girl to the homeless shelter, which is out of the way but who cares. He only knows about the place because he had a lead that went through there at one point in time, but it dried up so Jason found it safe enough. The girl thanks him for the escort and disappears inside. Jason makes a note of checking this place again when he leaves back to Gotham.
That detour means he gets to the police station nearly an hour later. The guy at the front desk is immediately hostile, probably because he looks like a delinquent, but that's neither here nor there. “What are you here for?”
“Looking for Dick Grayson.” He leans against the desk with a smile that would make even Grandma balk. “He's a detective here, right?”
The guy raises an eyebrow. “What's your relation to him?”
“He's my brother.” Jason wiggles his brow, because he knew that would surprise the guy and he finds it amusing. As thought, the guy’s eyes widen and he disappears into the back.
Dick comes out a few minutes later, looking aggravated and irritated. “What are you doing here?”
“What, can't visit my favorite brother?” He opens his arms, a gesture that means he's allowing a hug to happen. Dick doesn't hug him, which is a code fucking red in Jason’s books. Dick knows how rare these opportunities are, he wouldn't waste them for anything. Jason once had him jump from the manor roof because Jason had hinted at wanting a hug when he was younger.
Things were gravely wrong. Just what did he and Bats argue about?
“Why are you here?” Dick asks again, tone hard, and Jason starts getting angry too. “Did Bruce send you?”
Oh, he's on a first name basis now too. “Of course not.” He scoffs, crosses his arms. “I'm here because I don't appreciate you going completely off radar for no fucking reason. And you're worrying Tim!”
That got his attention. His shoulder slouch, guilt flashing in his eyes. Jason knew it would - Dick might get angry and hostile at Jason, but he's much more friendly with the two younger brothers. Probably because they don't intentionally try to make him blow a gasket (Damian unintentionally, but that's just Damian-) over stupid things that don't matter. It's a low blow, but Jason doesn't care, because he was actually worrying Tim and Jason doesn't like that either, will set him straight if need be. Someone has to.
“Tim’s seventeen, he's fine.” Dick says, as if they're regular people and Dick's just moved on to adulthood. As if they couldn't die every single time they go out on patrol. As if Jason hasn't already died to prove it. Not to mention burglary or kidnapping for ransom, since he is Bruce Wayne’s ward. Tim has plenty of reasons to worry. “Stay outta this Jason, I don't need you getting mixed up in this.”
Because Jason still low-key hates their father, and he's more likely to immediately take Dick’s side no matter what Bruce has done. Dick is still protecting him, even when he's obviously pissed.
He's about to answer when two cops walk in, the girl he had escorted earlier between them. He locks eyes with her, and both of their eyes widen at the same time.
Then she turns to look at Dick. She sucks in a sharp breath as Dick also turns to look at her, wondering what Jason was doing. “You're the boy from the circus.” She says, and Dick goes rigid right before Jason does. She tries to stop walking, pulls towards him, but the officers keep pushing her back into the bullpen.
They turn to look at each other, once she's gone. Jason frowns. “You know her?”
“No.” His brother looks troubled, running a hand over his mouth and looking down in thought. “You?”
“Took her to a homeless shelter before coming here.” He crosses his arms, sighs. “You should go figure that out.”
“Yeah.” He turns around, goes to push through to the back, following where that girl had gone. He doesn't look back.
“This conversation isn't finished!” Jason calls right before the doors close behind him, before he mutters a curse underneath his breath, kicking at the floor with his shoe. How old was that girl? 13? 14? Dick was what, 9? When his parents died. 15 years have passed since then, there's no way she should know about that, much less recognize him.
Why was she in custody in the first place?
“So, you're Grayson’s brother?” Two officers, he thinks detectives, appear from the back, sizing him up. “Not expecting to see you here. What's this, a surprise visit?”
They seem friendly enough, if not a little sleep deprived and slightly wild because of it. “Yep, thought I'd surprise him. Wanted to see how he was settling in.”
“The same way most detectives do.” The taller of the two men say. “With coffee and long nights. Grayson’s a hard worker, that's for sure.”
“Always has been.” Jason has been to a total of one charity gala ever since he came back from the dead, mostly to make sure that during Damian’s debut the kid didn't slaughter anyone. He tries to remember how to talk to regular civilians who didn't grow up on the streets, much less outside of Gotham. “He didn't have time to tell me, but when does he usually clock off work?”
“Ten every night.” The shorter one says with a laugh. “Most punctual guy here, like he's got places to be afterwards. Hey, you're Jason right? Grayson used to talk about you and your family all the time, the soppy bastard.”
The taller one sighs. “You all seem very close.” He finishes, trying to save face for his friend. “He should be out in half an hour, but it might take longer. He's interviewing someone right now.”
Huh, strange way to say interrogating a child. Jason tries to keep an innocent expression on his face. “Oh, is it that girl who came in a little while ago? I took her to a shelter earlier, what'd she do?”
“Threw concrete at a police cruiser.” The shorter man answers, uncaring for confidentiality. The taller one twitches but doesn't interrupt. “You know kids, getting in trouble for no good reason.”
As a child who grew up homeless, living on the streets and getting in trouble for both good and bad reasons, Jason tries to hide his anger. That girl didn't strike him as a troublemaker. If she threw concrete at a car, it was for a good reason. “She might have wanted the officer’s attention. She seemed scared earlier.”
The shorter one stares at him, laughs. “Just like your brother, you are. Soft spot for children definitely runs in the family.”
Even outside of Gotham, people who know the Wayne name knows Bruce adopted down on their luck children like one gives out candy on Halloween. “Lucky for us.”
The short one laughs harder. The taller one looks vaguely like he wants to apologize for this entire conversation.
They talk for a bit longer until Jason is able to extract himself from the conversation, saying he'd like a breath of fresh air outside. He sits on a bench right outside the station, takes out his phone and opens up an app. He's very curious about that girl, given how she knew Dick, and how coincidence or not Jason just happened to run into her twice within like two hours. He had borrowed some of Bruce’s tech long ago, had Tim upgrade it whenever he felt like it was starting to become dysfunctional. While it would be better if he had on his hood, it's currently in his backpack, and changing here wouldn't be smart.
Still, it's very easy to put in some headphones and hack into the security system and cameras. Not like he was doing anything - he'll have to thank Tim for it later.
He doesn't see Dick anywhere, but it's easy finding the room they're holding the girl in. Some officer is talking to her, and she stands as the officer comes closer, grabbing her arm and taking her towards the back. They're moving her, he guesses. Homeless as she is, who knows what they'll do with her. He doubts juvie is an option, but in all honesty-
Fuck, Dick really has rubbed off on him. He came here for his brother but something is off about this girl and Jason’s kind of worried about her continual wellbeing.
Well, when in doubt, if the girl is okay with it he can break her out and find her a well off family in Metropolis to live in. That'll be better than anything she can get in Detroit.
He turns off his phone and stands, making his way towards the row of police cruisers waiting near the side of the building. He's nearing the side when the police officer and the girl walk out. She waits for the officer to open the car door, and instead gets a needle to the neck for her trouble.
Jason immediately reached for his side, brings up a gun and takes aim at the officer, only to find his hand empty because his gun is in his backpack. He curses, debates running in front of the cruiser to stop him, but the car is already driving off.
“Jay!” He turns, sees Dick standing near the entrance, eyes wide. So he had seen it too. “Rachel-”
Was that her name? Good to know. “You do it the legal way.” He says, tucks a hand into his coat collar and pulls it down. Just enough that Dick can catch a glimpse of his suit on underneath his civilian clothes, because of course he isn't going to enter Detroit without proper precautions. “I've got the other way handled.”
Then he takes off, veers into the nearest alley. He opens up his phone once more, turns on a function that causes the nearby security cameras to loop feed or go static, because he's not making the same mistake as Dick thank you very much, before digging into his backpack and pulling out two important things.
His hood, and a grappling hook.
It takes him longer than he'd like, catching up to the cruiser. He's not used to Detroit's infrastructure, it caught him up a few times. Still, he's only a few minutes behind, which will have to be good enough.
He enters from the roof. The building the car waits outside of is old and dilapidated, definitely not passing inspection. The floor creaks when he walks on it, definitely giving himself away if he does not do something about it.
It takes him much longer than he'd like, getting down two floors to where he hears someone else speaking. Stealth was very important here, which meant slow and steady won the race. Except for the fact that there was a girl, Rachel’s life was in danger here. He could hear her now. And someone else.
“With these three, the gate will be closed forever, and we will all be saved.” It was the voice of a lunatic, slightly insane yet so very serious, as if he was the only one who knew the truth. Rachel sounded close to sobbing, and while Jason would love to know more he couldn't risk an innocent civilian.
A civilian that knew Jason, but didn't know the Hood, but Dick was on his way oh wait a second-
He takes off his hood, shoves it into his backpack before fishing out one of his smaller guns and walking out into the candle-lit light of the occupied room.
It's not a good scene. Candles flicker in a circle around where Rachel is tied to a chair. There's blood dripping from somewhere, and the man standing over her as a serrated knife. “This doesn't seem quite legal.”
It's not what he wants to say nor do. He wants to put a bullet through the guy’s skull, but he's reformed now, so none of that… yet.
The guy startles as Rachel starts thrashing about, crying for help. She can't see him yet, he entered from behind her, but maybe she recognizes his voice?
“You don't understand.” The man says, taking a step back. Jason inches forward, closer to Rachel. “Letting the child live will doom us all.”
“Sure.” He says, because that sounds like logical and rational thought, not. “That's definitely her vibe, totally see it.”
The man backs up again, glancing at his gun. Jason makes sure his suit is still mostly hidden under his coat, stepping fully between Rachel and the man. “Do not fall for her innocent facade.” The man hisses. “There is evil, deep within her. She was born from it, and it will spell our doom!”
…eh, a problem for another day. Jason’s honestly dealt with worse. If it was even true.
Down below, they all hear Dick call out. “Rachel?”
And Rachel screams. “Help!”
The man takes that opportunity, the second Jason’s attention is torn away, he raises his knife to strike at Jason.
Jason takes a shot.
His gun jams.
…God fucking damnit-
Rachel screams as the guy’s already bloody knife shreds through, into his shoulder. Jason’s fast enough to fall back as the guy attacks, meaning it's only a shallow cut. What he was not prepared for, was the guy somehow continuing without even shifting his weight, thrusting the knife forward and into his side.
That one… now that one hurt.
Jason lets out a gasp of pain, one that quickly turns into a snarl. His gun comes up to slam against the side of the man’s face. He staggers back, out of reach, and Jason wants to follow. Instead he finds himself unable to move because wow that knife went deep, he's going to bleed out sooner or later, ow.
Rachel is hyperventilating, very overwhelmed, as the guy staggers away from him. When he sees that Jason isn't, or cannot get up, he backs up to the other door, closing it and barricading it with his body. Keeping Dick out, Jason would imagine. He places a hand on his wounded side, feels blood soak through his suit and coat. That'll need stitches.
Belatedly, he remembers his gun. It'll take a minute to unjam it, but that's better than nothing. Especially because Rachel is now very still and quiet, as if she passed out, which not good. She might have a medical condition, Jason should have thought about that shit-
There's banging on the door. Dick’s arrived, and if Jason could get that guy to move Dick could handle him. And yet moving is probably a death sentence right now. He has a first aid kit in his backpack, but he also has to unjam his gun and apply pressure to his wound-
He freezes as something cold brushes against his spine. The temperature in the room drops, something odd and foreboding entering the air. Rachel’s body twitches, shakes as if seizing. Black wispy smoke, almost like tendrils of darkness, start to waft off her. He notices at the same time the man does.
The man’s eyes are wide, full of fear. “No.” He whispers.
Rachel lurches forward in her seat, and something strange happens. Her body, restrained, is halted in its tracks. And yet there's a second Rachel, almost a mirage, that flies forward, runs into the man and slams him into the door. Jason stares, unable to do anymore more as the Rachel in the chair slumps, boneless. The Rachel near the door grabs the man by the throat, seems to cackle, as if pleased.
Then she turns to black smoke too, disappears, no, is absorbed by the man. He sees the man’s terrified face for a single second before he's falling to the floor, vomiting up bile and blood and something as black as tar. When it's over he claws at his throat, screams like a man who's seen the devil.
Then he collapses, like a puppet with their strings cut.
Suddenly, it is quiet. Silent.
The door is thrown open. Dick marches through, taking stock of the scene. Jason only barely manages to tear his eyes away from the body to look at him. He takes a step towards Jason, eyes locked on his wound.
Nice to know he still cares. Maybe a near death scare will have him back to his old self.
Jason tilts his head towards Rachel, who's quietly crying. Dick grimaces, but goes to her first, getting her out of her bonds. Rachel falls into him, holding him like a lifeline. Dick seems stiff at that, like he's never comforted a child before, like Jason doesn't remember how he'd visit one of Gotham's orphanages or youth centers every week. Still, he hugs her back after a moment and Jason gives them a minute, lets them talk quietly among themselves. He can tell Dick about what Rachel did later, when he's not at risk of bleeding out.
Speaking of-
With his free hand and a painful torso twist he brings his backpack to his side, unzipping it and digging for the first aid kit. It's not a new thing, bandaging himself up, but that knife did have someone else's blood on it, which was a bit worrying. His hand is shaking, as it riffles through the lot. Bloodloss, most likely.
“Jay-” He hears, sees a hand on his before Dick crouched in front of him. He expertly picks out a blood clotter and opens it easily, quick and precise. Jason moves his bloody hand from his wound, looks up to see Rachel standing over them, eyes wide in fear.
He smiles at her, even as his face twists in pain, the blood clotter placed on his wound. “Don't worry, I've had worse.”
Rachel’s eyes are red and glassy. Tear tracks are drying down her cheeks. She looks confused. “You're also a cop?”
Jason snorts. “Never, no, that's hilarious.” He grunts as Dick packs the wound, wraps gauze around his middle to keep it in place. “I'm Dickie’s brother. Call me Jason.”
Rachel’s eyes widen. “Oh.” She says, frowns. “But you weren't at the circus.”
Just how does she know about- y'know what, she has a shadow double and was near exorcized a few minutes ago, her knowing about the circus is not so surprising. “We're adopted.”
Rachel's eyes widen again, before she flushes, as if embarrassed. Dick stands, holds out a hand. Jason takes it, tries not to wince when he's pulled to standing. “Um, should you be moving right now…?”
“Never stopped me before.” He claps Dick on the shoulder, a silent thank you, and shoves his gun back into his bag. “Now, what was that shadow thing and why did that guy think you were a gateway to our imminent destruction?”
Rachel, of course, doesn't know. He should expect that by now, most villains and heroes aren't really in it until their late teens, the Robins being obvious exceptions. Speaking of Robin, why the hell is Dick going around in the Robin suit? Nightwing is supposed to be in Bloodhaven but even so why is he making Tim and (when he gets back) Damian look like a feral Punisher? He's going through it, Jason assumes. Very much so, since Dick’s been looking at a poster for the Flying Graysons for ten minutes now and hasn't even seemed to notice that Jason’s entered the room. “Yo Wing, Rachel's getting ready - help with these stitches?”
Dick jerks, turns away from the poster and beckons him forward. Jason rolls up the bottom of his suit top and sets the rest of the kit against a table, leaning against it. Jason’s better at doing stitches, but is pretty mediocre when working on himself. He thought he'd get better over time. He didn't.
The first prick is barely noticeable over the pain from the wound. Jason had already taken some Tylenol, as if that would really do anything. Still, he stays still as Dick starts stitching it all. “What's the plan?”
He knows Dick has one, is purposefully not telling him. “I'm taking her somewhere safe.” He says. “You should go back to Gotham and rest.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Did you think that was actually going to work? That you'd tell me to go home and I would?”
“I was hoping so, yes.” Dick sighs, threads the stitch through a little harshly. “You got your own shit to deal with, Jay, I can handle it.”
“This girl can apparently destroy the world.” Jason’s voice is flat. “Which I quite like on a good day. Also my schedule is pretty free. Cleared it all out, in fact.”
Dick pauses, tilts his head up from his work to look at him. His eyes narrow. “Tim put you up to this?”
“Be happy only I'm here.” He says in response. “The moment his finals are over you're screwed.”
Dick laughs, genuine, and when he smiles it's the happiest Jason has seen him in a long while. There's something fond in his eyes. “Whatever shall I do.”
“Hope he doesn't hack your phone.” Jason says, because in his rebellious phase Tim was a menace to phones. “Deal with this before finals are over. Fucking call him so he knows you're okay.”
Dick looks away again. “You're one to lecture me on needing space. What's so bad about me just being alone for awhile?”
Because Dick is quite literally allergic to being alone, and is more likely to wilt without genuine human interaction every fucking day. The last time he left home for an extended period of time he made his own superhero group, because he can't fucking stand being alone. When that failed, he drifted for a few weeks until Jason found him and pulled him back to Gotham (once again, because Tim was worried).
That's all to say, Dick needs people around him, people he trusts and cares for. Being alone for days on end isn't relaxing to him, it's how he tortures, how he punishes himself.
He really needs to know what happened between him and B.
“Alright then.” Jason says, glaring down at him. “The moment you can tell me you want me to leave and not be lying about it, I'll leave.”
Dick finishes the stitches, stands to his full height and scowls. “I want you to leave, Jason. Go home.”
Jason smiles and twirls his motorcycle keys. “I'll drive behind you guys. Rachel obviously trusts you more for some reason, so try and get her to open up some more, yeah?”
Dick’s eye twitches. Probably because he hates the fact that Jason can read him so easily. The truth is there is rarely ever a time where Dick actually wants to send Jason away. He knows too much about Jason’s history to ever send him off when Jason is trying to be present. Deep down and very surface level Dick is a good man, even if he is acting very prissy. “Jason-”
“Save it, Wing.” Jason stops him, raises a hand. “You're obviously going through some shit, so I'm not leaving.”
Dick stares. Jason stares back.
“You didn't even take the offered hug.”
His eye twitches again. Jason knows he got him. “Fine. Tell Tim that I'm fine, noisy little-”
He grumbles to himself as he walks away, and Jason watches him go with a smile.
Angry or not, Dick can never say no to his little brothers. At least, not when it matters. He sends Tim a thumbs up, gets a perfect back, and takes the time they have left reconfiguring his gun, because man was that jam at a terrible time.