Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Parties are hard to go through. At some point all the stares and comments stopped getting to him, but now it’s starting to get on his nerves again. He’s getting tired of it, for years all people have been mentioning about him is his looks, how attractive he is. It is different with Cali but he’ll never get to fully show himself, to show he can do more than act well and be sexual all the time.

He starts to miss school. Learning. He got back into reading for a bit but he barely has the time for it, and when he does he barely has the energy for it.

He used to be really good at school, now without Roman he couldn’t remember the date or his day’s schedule. Slowly, he starts to realize all he lost, all he could have had if he hadn’t let Roman turn him into a porn star. He is aware he would’ve gotten nowhere without him, but at some point he should’ve set his foot down and went back to finish high school at the very least. Yet he let Roman dictate his life and now he’s never going to have a degree in anything. He’s going to stay a sex doll and then get killed the second he won’t manage to maintain expectations.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The air is a bit weird, he’s glad they’re outside because otherwise this would feel suffocating.
Cali told him that he wanted to talk, and now they’re sitting at a private park, Jason’s heart racing. He has no idea what this is about but “are you down to meet up? There’s something I’d like to tell you,” is never really calming to hear.

“So, uh…” Cali starts, him too seeming quite anxious. “We’ve been friends for a while now, y’know, and… I want us to stay that, I just have to get something off my chest.”

He freezes.

“I, uh… I kinda have a crush on you. I’ve had one for years, honestly, and… I know you’re with Sionis and you love him, I don’t want to stress you out or make things awkward, I’m not asking you to say something back and I’m not asking you to change your life, to be with me, I just… my therapist told me that saying it to you might help me get over it. So… yeah, I… I wanna be friends with you and hopefully I’ll get over my feelings now.”

Jason stares at him, his heart isn’t beating and his lungs aren’t taking in any air.

Again, it’s… it’s happening again.

Everyone wants the same thing out of him. Everyone wants him in the same way. He’s never safe, he’s never going to be safe, he can never create bonds with anyone because all people want to do with him is touch him, own him, steal him.
He’s known Cali for four years. It’s his first friendship that lasted that long, that he’s been actually involved in, that he thought maybe he was safe in. But no.

Cali has been wanting more from him for years.

He thinks back on the sex scene they did together for Fox Meat, all the romantic scenes they’ve done for Amber’s series, and fights a sudden wave of nausea.

Without a word he gets up and leaves, and Cali closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before sighing out a regretful “fuck.”

On the way back home, Jason stays completely still in the car, still not reacting.

His head just keeps repeating the same thing; he’ll always just be an object. He will never be seen as someone deserving something as gentle and real as friendship. People all want the same thing out of him.

When he gets home he gets straight to his bed, hides under the covers and stays frozen there for hours and hours and hours, stuck in the shock of pain that this realization forces onto him.

“Oh,” Roman lets out later when he comes into the bedroom. “What are you doing there?”

Jason doesn’t answer.

Roman approaches. “Did something happen, doll? Why are you hiding?”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Jason screams when his lover puts a hand on him, pushing him away and fleeing the bedroom, bursting into tears.

After coming down from the initial surprise, Roman’s anger is quick to come and soon he’s running after Jason who instinctively runs to the kitchen and arms himself with a knife.

“Stay away from me!” the youngest cries out. “I can’t fucking do this anymore, just get the fuck away from me!”

Instead of trying to diffuse the situation, the Crime Lord decides to pull out a gun and aim it directly at his star’s head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you but you’ll drop the knife if you know what’s best for you.” Never before has Jason pushed him away and yelled at him like this, he will not tolerate it in the slightest.

“Do it, I don’t fucking care anymore! I’m fucking done with this, I’m done!”

“Drop the knife, tell me what happened and I just might only break your arms.”

“Break more! Break my fucking face!”

To test how genuine the boy is being, Roman shoots right next to his head.

Jason jumps but doesn’t get scared or angry, stands his ground, keeps the knife raised.

Alright, so he’s being serious. Intimidation won’t work. “Red,” Roman therefore changes his tone, tries to sound sweet. “Darling.” He puts the gun back in his pants, approaches slowly. “What’s going on with you? What happened?”

“Stay back!”

“Red, you have to speak to me.”

“No, I don’t!” He tries to swing the knife at Roman when he gets too close but Roman dodges and disarms him, bangs his head against the wall and kicks the knife away.

“Enough,” the oldest snaps, dropping the act. He holds the boy’s wrists but that doesn’t stop him from thrashing and trying to kick, which Roman fixes by hitting his head again much harder, over and over again until Jason collapses.

With a sigh and an angry shake of his head, Roman gets up and drags Jason to the bedroom, restrains him tightly and leaves him on the floor. He’ll come back in a bit, when he’s sure the boy is awake and ready to talk instead of acting like a feral animal.

Half an hour later he hears hysterical sobbing coming from the bedroom, waits until the boy tires himself before coming in.

“Red.” He pauses to look at him. “Tell me what happened.”

“Please untie me,” the youngest shakily begs, his skin crawling, trying to get free.

“You tried to attack me, I won’t untie you until I know why.”

“I can’t,” he lets out. “I can’t do this anymore. Just… just kill me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t… I don’t want any of this… I— I can’t handle it, I…” He sniffles. “I don’t wanna be an object anymore…”

“Tell me what happened.”

“They’re all the same,” he chokes out, more tears pouring out. “And I’m sick of it.”

“Did something happen with your friend? That’s who you went to see this afternoon, wasn’t it?”

Jason nods. “I can’t take it, Roman,” he cries. “Either you let me be a— a person or you kill me…”

“Alright, Red, you’re simply tired, this’ll be nothing to you tomorrow. Don’t you remember? You’re a star, people who love you are the dirt you walk on.”

“I don’t wanna walk anymore. I just… I can’t.”

Roman sighs. “If I untie you, do you promise to stay calm?”

He nods simply because he wants to be free, he feels sick because of the restraints, naked in the worst way possible. He has no idea how he ever enjoyed being tied up before.

When the oldest touches him he flinches and whimpers, pushes himself away the second he’s free.

“You’re being so dramatic, Red.”

Jason just looks at him through his tears, shaking, praying for the end. Roman won’t ever let him be a person, he knows that. This ends in blood, he can only hope it’ll happen tonight.

“Go get ready for the night. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” he defies despite the gut wrenching fear of doing so. “I’m not doing anything anymore.”

Roman closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and lets out a long heavy sigh. Then, he steps forward and Jason shuffles back until the boy hits a wall. Roman grabs him by the hair and hits his head until he stops moving.

For a minute, he considers his unconscious body.

Looks like the end is coming soon.

★

The next morning Jason refuses to get out of bed no matter what Roman threatens or says. He cries and screams and doesn’t let his lover approach him—until he’s shown a special cigarette.

“If you behave I’ll let you smoke one,” the oldest entices. “You want one don’t you? It’ll help you go through the day.” He knew eventually he’d have to resort to that to get the boy to behave, and yet he’s still hurt by the fact that it’s actually happening.

Of course since Jason is addicted he can’t resist it and complies, though not without some difficulty. He begs and cries the entirety of the morning, and Roman would like to give him a relaxant but Jason needs to be aware to work. They’re filming a porno today, he can’t be mellow.

When they get on set Jason manages to go through filming, but reverts to how he used to be at first. He doesn’t speak to anyone, smokes constantly, is only amiable when he gets a hit of the special cigarette. Then, when they get back home, Jason spends an hour in the shower crying and rubbing himself clean, freaking out when Roman looks at him.

That becomes their daily routine, only the addiction quickly derails.

After two weeks Jason is incapable of going through the slightest bit of work where he has to be naked without a special cigarette. He stormed off and had to be taken away a few times already because he was about to fall apart in front of everyone, Roman had no choice but to indulge him and give him what he wanted.

The more he smokes the less it has an effect, the less he manages to go through his days. He has to be held down when Roman wants to have sex with him, doesn’t worship him anymore. He sucks dick like it’s a chore, doesn’t make eye contact, barely looks alive during.

That is not the man Roman crafted for years, that is not even the man he used to be before. That is a collapsing star, slowly withering away.

He did offer the youngest to kill Cali even if he didn’t lay a hand on him but Jason said it wouldn’t change anything and the other actor doesn’t deserve to be punished for feeling the only feelings people are able to have for him.

Roman understands how irreversible it is when Jason asks him if there’s any wildlife preservation centres they could send Sarah to, understands that Jason is absolutely done fighting and trying. The boy has no intent to stay alive and push through this rough patch. Right now his only motivation to do anything is the drug he’s given, not love or devotion. Fame has finally broken him.

The Crime Lord still tries to fix things, gives Jason a break, claiming Red has fallen ill and has to rest so no one asks questions.

All that Jason does during that break is avoid Roman unless he wants his dose, cries and fights when he gets fucked and takes showers that last hours and hours.
He thinks a lot too, thinks back on those past years, on what happened before, on everything that led him to become this.

How did it all happen? How did he get broken down like this? How did he become something he loathes so much?

When he was a kid he wanted to be a writer or a doctor or a teacher and now… now he’s a fucking porn star. Has been for years. Time he should’ve spent studying he instead spent getting fucked in front of a camera.

He never wanted this. He never wanted any of this. He never should’ve just went with it, he should’ve….

That’s his fucking problem. He adapts first, then wonders if it’s worth it. The streets, Bruce, Talia and now this…. He just goes with the flow, too busy trying to survive and ends up in shitty situations because he never asked himself if that’s what he wanted. He dreamed a lot but never pursued it. He does what he thinks needs to be done, never what he wants.

And now his life is fucking over.

Filming movies was fun for a little while, he did believe he finally managed to do something he liked. But even that…

He only gets casted to be sexualized. Sure he has the opportunity to play interesting characters but he always has a sex scene, a scene where people can ogle him, desire him, lust after him. He never gets casted as a hero or a villain, he never gets casted as anything other than the one character that’s meant to be taken less seriously than the others because he’s a fucking piece of meat and that’s all he’ll ever be.

Movie making lost its magic, the word angel lost its magic, his entire relationship lost its magic. If Roman didn’t own him he’d run away and let himself die in the streets of Gotham like he was meant to. But even now he can’t walk away from Roman. Roman gave him this life, Roman is therefore the only one who can take it away.
It’s not like he actually has anywhere else to go, he has to stay here until he’s put out of his misery.

He knew it was going to end bad, yet he didn’t realize how bad it would get. He thought Roman would just kill him the second he’d fail, he didn’t think he’d be forced to live as his spark goes out.
This is purgatory, this is the painful in-between, this is worse than whatever will happen to him in hell for all he’s done. It’s not just a body that’s a prison, it’s his mind and this house, it’s Roman and fame, it’s everything in the world keeping him jailed in this atrocious agony.

He doesn’t understand why Roman keeps him alive. Doesn’t understand why he’s giving him a break and trying to convince him to keep Sarah. Doesn’t understand why he acts like he wants him to live yet holds him down and forces himself on him whenever he wants. If he was a corpse he’d serve the same purpose he does now, only he’d be given the mercy not to feel it.

Nothing feels right or good anymore. The special cigarettes are the only thing able to alleviate his pain. And even then they work less and less.

Hopefully Roman will kill him soon.

☆

“I got you a role for a new horror movie,” Roman declares when he comes in the bedroom. “You enjoy filming those, don’t you?”

Jason hangs on tightly to the blanket, keeps his eyes fixed on the oldest without saying a word.

“They’re quite excited to have you.”

He keeps staring in silence. Tenses when Roman steps closer.

“It’s a nice role, too, I’m sure you’ll appreciate it. The script should arrive soon.”

He flinches and whimpers when the oldest sits on the edge of the bed.

Roman sighs. “Red, this has been going on long enough.”

“Then kill me.”

“I don’t care that you’re 29, doll, you still bring me money, I won’t kill you just because you turn 30 this year. There’s no reason for you to try and get ahead of it.”

“That’s not why,” he replies, fighting back tears.

“Then what? Surely it’s not just because people want to have sex with you, I won’t believe that no matter how many times you say it.”

And now he starts crying despite his best attempts not to.

“That’s ridiculous, Red, you have to know how stupid that sounds. Do you realize how many people would kill to look like you? To be loved like you are?”

“It’s not love,” he sobs.

“Don’t try to be a romantic. It’s love, whether it’s the kind you like or not. You have millions of fans, millions of people who envy you.“

“That’s because they don’t know the truth,” he cries out as he gets out of bed, away from the Crime Lord.

“And what is that, then? Hm?”

“I never wanted this! Any of this! You— You forced me into being this, you—“

Roman gets up too. “I never stopped you from leaving, Red.”

Jason laughs dryly. “And where was I supposed to go? You’re my everything, of course I’d never leave you! But you only saw— you only saw power in that, you never— you never saw me as something more than just someone to manipulate!”

“You asked me to change you. You begged me to turn you into someone new, that’s what I did. I gave you everything you wanted, I gave you a new chance at life. Don’t twist the story because it no longer makes you happy.”

“I’m not twisting it, I— fuck I can’t believe I was that fucking blind! I’m just a body to you, I’m just a body to everyone, what I truly want, what I dream of, it doesn’t matter, it never fucking mattered because I’m just a fucking object! That’s all I’m good for, isn’t it? To be used until there’s nothing left of me, until I can’t satisfy others and then I get fucking discarded! You saw I was vulnerable, you used it for your own personal gain! I wanted to be understood, I deserved to be understood!” He knows he’s lying, he knows Roman did understand him and did his best to help him, he knows he doesn’t actually deserve anything good but he needs to get Roman angry enough to finally kill him.

But Roman must see right through him because he just leaves the bedroom without another word, abandoning Jason who falls apart as he’s confronted with the fact that he has absolutely no control, not even on when he gets to die.

He is left with that realization for a while, it is the only thing that feels concrete in this room. The bed, the night tables, the lamps, the dressers, every single thing in this room including himself does not feel as real and present as the complete absence of his control over his life.

It takes him hours of stewing in that pain to realize he could kill himself. For years he’s been convinced the only person that could put an end to his life was Roman, for years he wholeheartedly believed his death belonged to him. He’s well aware that to take his own life would be the most irredeemable act of disloyalty he could show his lover, an insult to him and who they’ve been together for the past seven years, but he’s getting desperate.

Still, is he really ready for his final act to be an affront to the man that saved him? Is he really ready to disrespect him like this?

….. he has no idea. Part of him tells him he won’t even manage to go through with it. The other part just wants all of this to be over with as quickly as possible.

In case he does make the choice and manages to go through with it, he has to make sure Sarah will be in good hands. Therefore, when he calms enough, he grabs his laptop and sends an email to an organization he found a while ago, always having known he could not leave Sarah to Roman once he dies.
He requests discretion, explains the situation just enough so they understand not to do anything but go directly to the enclosure and take her away without speaking to anyone but Micheal whom he’ll send to deal with it in person.

It quickly tires him; a while has passed since he had to think for himself and plan something himself, and as soon as he’s done he logs out and goes back in bed, wrapping himself tightly in blankets to cover up his body as much as possible.

He is too crushed to grieve, too busy visualizing himself committing suicide to really feel the sadness of departing with Sarah. It’s not like he’s seen her a lot lately, he hasn’t been to her enclosure in quite a bit.

How will he end his life? With Roman’s gun or a kitchen knife? A gun is quicker, has less chances of failing him. But will he be able to steal it from Roman without being caught? And where should he do it? In a room in the basement, so he has more time before being discovered? Should he write a note? Would Roman even care to read it? What would it even say? That he’s sorry? That’s probably the only thing he could tell him at this point.

He wishes he had the strength to carry on, the soul to withstand the objectification he endured all those years. He wishes he could end on a good note, he wishes Roman’s sacrifices were worth it in the end.

Roman is ready to let him live past thirty. He’s ready to keep working to make Jason get his spark back. Yet Jason knows nothing can be done. It’s over. He cannot keep living like this, he cannot survive this life.

He remembers the orchard, how magical it used to feel. Perhaps that’s where he should die, since that’s where he was reborn. It would tie everything together, wouldn’t it? Full circle. But he wouldn’t subject the employees or the owner of the place to his suicide. To take his life instead of letting Roman do it is selfish enough, he won’t make it worse on purpose. His life had no meaning, his death doesn’t deserve one either. He will die in an underwhelming manner, Roman will get rid of his body and find an excuse for his disappearance for the public, and soon enough he will be forgotten. He will be cold again, and the only beings that will touch him will be hungry worms instead of greedy hands. His body will feed the needy, not the insatiable audience that only hungered for him because of selfish wants. His body will serve a real purpose. He will be part of something good, he will no longer contribute to something evil. And finally, he will be at rest and stay buried.

⊹

Sarah is gone. Micheal stays silent about it. Roman takes three days to notice, only because the trainer doesn’t show up anymore.

“What did you do?”

Jason looks at the Crime Lord, swallows thickly. He isn’t scared of his rage, he’s scared of being spared despite his affront. “You wouldn’t have taken care of her after I die,” he justifies.

“You’re not dying yet.”

“I already am. Just put me out of my misery.”

“I’m getting sick of this, Red. Are you not capable of bringing up any other subject? Are you that determined to die now?”

“I have nothing left to give. Not to you, not to my fans, not to anyone. There’s nothing left of me.”

“I decide when you have nothing left to give.”

“I know. But you decided this. I wouldn’t be like this if you hadn’t made it so. And I know you don’t miscalculate, I know you don’t make mistakes. So you wanted this. You wanted me to end up like this before I turned thirty. You’re sick of me. I’m sick of me too.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. I never said anything concrete like this.”

“I’m aging quicker than I was supposed to. My body hurts like hell, I don’t feel like I’m at the end of my twenties. It’s a matter of time before my appearance catches up. It’s better to end it now.”

“You don’t make such choices. It isn’t up to you.”

Jason stays quiet. Keeps his dull eyes fixed on his lover.

“You’re being an ungrateful brat, do you know that? After everything I’ve given you, you think you have a right to decide when it ends. I am not killing you yet, Red. That is final.”

“…….. I went to church without telling you,” the youngest finally admits. He will incite a rage through any means necessary. That is his last attempt to let Roman kill him before he does it himself. “I sneaked out and said goodbye to God and you never knew.”

It’s working, he can see the anger bloom through the oldest.

“It was a while ago. The night after our first night at the orchard. I sneaked out and I went to see Bruce and then I went to church. I said goodbye, and since then I’ve been the star you wanted me to be. But now I think I have to say goodbye to you too. I’m making you unhappy now, I can’t ever please you again. You deserve better than the nothing I can give you. I’m empty, I’m done. I’m sorry. If I could I’d keep going, but I can’t.” He pinches his lips together, tired tears coming up, kneels at the feet of his lover. “I love you, Roman. More than I’ve loved anything else. I hope that despite what I am now, it mattered at some point. I love you, good and bad. No matter what you’ve done and what you’ll do. Maybe I should’ve said it more often, I know you maybe needed to hear it more than I thought I needed to keep it for myself. I’m sorry.”

A moment of silence.

Then, a kick to the face, sending him into the wall.

It doesn’t take him by surprise, the pain doesn’t overpower the contentment he feels. Every hit that follows feels right.

His vision quickly becomes blurry. Roman’s lack of monologue has him understand that he is not to survive this.

He smiles softly.

Strength leaves him, and as he gets another hit to the head he remembers something.

Years ago, the day he acted ‘off’. He asked Roman to kiss him one last time before killing him because he was owed that much at the very least.

He feels bad for having requested such a thing. Roman has no obligation to kiss him. But he has an obligation to show his love one last time.

So, as he feels himself withering away, he uses the last bit of strength he has left to kiss the hand of his lover.

For a moment, Roman freezes. He’s not sure if it’s his own imagination or if it’s really happening. It’s alright. He dies soon, there’s nothing to worry about anymore.

Then, instead of a hit, two hands wrap around his throat and squeeze.

He welcomes the lack of air, embraces death, glad that it ends this way.

Chapter Text

He wakes up with all kinds of aches in a room that is not his home.

It takes him a while to come to his senses, to understand where he is.

This looks like a guest bedroom in Wayne Manor.

It does make sense, he supposes, that his judgement should happen here. It is where he was last pure, though he wonders why he isn’t in his old bedroom.

Expecting an endless corridor and endless doors, he stumbles out of bed and limps towards the exit of the room. Yet, the outside of the bedroom looks exactly like Wayne Manor.

Strange. Though he has died before he has no recollection of what happened to his soul when he was dead, so perhaps this is normal and he simply doesn’t know.

His ears ring loudly, every step hurts. That too makes sense, God would not spare him from such trivial pain. He’s done worse and he deserves worse, he is in the state he would’ve been if Roman hadn’t killed him.

It is a bit stressful, to be here, to await judgement. God chose a place that would disarm him and it does work, despite his goodbyes the scent of a place he considered his home puts memories of his childhood in his brain and he’s too worn to swat them away like usual.

Believing that maybe he has to find the right room to be judged, he explores the place, always is surprised when he opens a door that gives to a room he expected to see. There are no distortions, no blurry lines, not anything out of the ordinary.

He arrives at his old bedroom, expects to find himself as a child and be confronted by him. Yet he finds Bruce instead.

“Has he woken up yet?”

He frowns. Bruce has his back turned on him, doesn’t seem to know it is him that opened the door. “Who?” he asks. Obviously it’s about him but he doesn’t really know what else to say.

Quickly, Bruce turns around, wild eyes fixing on him. “Jason? What—“ He runs up to him, looks him over. “What are you doing up? You should stay in bed, you—“

“I’m ready for my judgement,” he interrupts, a bit thrown off by the man’s behaviour.

“Your judgement?”

“You know, God spitting in my face and telling me all I’ve done wrong to deserve to go to Hell… so where do I go? I thought it’d be in here, but…” It hurts to talk, his throat feels raw but he cannot stop himself. This pain is nothing compared to what awaits him, he won’t cower now that it’s really the end. “I dunno, I don’t remember my first time here. I dunno how this works. Maybe you’re Him? God is a father and Bruce was my father for a time…”

Bruce doesn’t say anything about it, only asks him to follow him and leads him back into the guest room he woke up in.

“Do I need to wait more?” he asks a bit unsurely. “I’m sorry if I offended.”

Instead of answering, the creature or vision taking Bruce’s form rings a bell and sits on the bed next to him, still looking him over.

Afraid of making things worse for himself, Jason decides to stay quiet too and wait.

What a strange experience this is, it isn’t at all what he expected.

A minute or two later, Alfred comes running in the room. “Jason,” he exclaims breathlessly, immediately coming over to examine him too. “How are you feeling? Are you alright? Are you hungry or thirsty?”

“Is it really possible for me to get hungry or thirsty here?” Jason asks curiously.

The two visions exchange a look.

“Where do you think you are?” Alfred asks.

“Is that a trick question?”

“No, just answer honestly.”

“I’m guessing I’m at Heaven’s gates, right? Though at the moment it took on the appearance of my childhood home. And I don’t wanna cause awkwardness so believe me I know I’m going to Hell, you don’t have to hide it. I know what I’ve done, I accept my fate.”

A heavy silence takes place.

Maybe it was bad to admit that, maybe he isn’t supposed to mention that. “I’m sorry, was I not supposed to say it? I’m sorry, I don’t mean any offence. I just… you’re kinda leaving me in the dark, I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Jason, you’re—“

Alfred interrupts Bruce by putting a hand on his arm. They exchange another look and then exit the bedroom without another word, closing the door behind them.

As he waits for them to come back he realizes something awful, something he is urged to ask the second they come back.

“Will Roman be in trouble?”

The two visions freeze at the doorframe.

“I mean, I forgive him, I asked him to kill me, so when he dies he won’t go to Hell too, right? He’s a good man, I don’t want him to go to Hell because of me.”

“Jason,” Bruce starts after a beat of silence. “This isn’t Heaven’s gates. You aren’t dead. Sionis did not kill you.”

For a moment he just absorbs the words. Then, he frowns as he thinks about it. “Is this a test?”

“No. You’re still alive. This is real.”

How strange. He didn’t think he’d be tested, he thought it was over. It’s uncomfortable how his heart races and his chest tightens, how his head becomes light with fear as he considers the possibility of that statement.

“I understand this can be uncomfortable, but I found you in an alley three days ago and brought you here. It seems he beat you to the brink of death but he didn’t go all the way.”

It’s a bit harder to breathe now. The aches become worse, everything seems to become heavier. “Am I already in Hell? Is this part of it? Did I already get judged?”

“No, Jason. You’re not in hell. You’re in the real world and you’re still alive.”

He laughs nervously. “No, no, this isn’t real. It can’t be, it— I can’t still be alive, I…” His pained smile turns into a grimace. “He wouldn’t leave me.”

“Maybe you’re the one that fled, I don’t know yet exactly what happened, I hoped you could tell us.”

“No, I wouldn’t run away, I wanted him to kill me, I was begging him for weeks to do it and I made him angry so he’d finally do it, I… he wouldn’t have let me live, he wouldn’t do that to me, he’s not that cruel.”

“Cruel? Jason, cruelty would be to kill you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, I— I wanted to die, I knew it’d end with him killing me, we both did and it was time, I couldn’t keep it up anymore so he killed me. It was mercy, I’m dead now and I’m fine being in Hell, I know I deserved it so… so I won’t fight, but I won’t buy your lies either.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We both knew eventually I’d fail at the job, I wouldn’t manage to keep up the act anymore. It happened a few weeks ago, I crumbled and couldn’t take it anymore, so Roman killed me because I had served my purpose. Now I’m dead because I had nothing left to offer him. I have no worth anymore. He can move on and find his heir like he wanted, and I’ll be forgotten and buried like I wanted. No more lies, no more sex, no more fame.” He pauses briefly. “You know this Hell is pretty bad, torturing me with a past I don’t care about anymore is stupid, if you really wanted to torture me you would’ve forced me to keep acting like a star.”

“…. You were that unhappy?”

“It’s complicated. At the end, yes. If you really wanted to make this Hell you would’ve made the end interminable. You would’ve forced me to go back to work and keep getting fucked by people I don’t know for money from people who just see me as an object. I don’t know what you’re getting at with this current scenario.”

Another silence takes place. As it happens, Jason refuses to let himself be convinced, refuses to acknowledge how real this now feels. He is dead, his story ended, now he’s in Hell. It’s that simple.

The two visions look at each other again and once more leave the room.

While alone, he refuses to look at his own body, afraid it’ll convince him this is in fact real. He keeps his eyes fixed on the wall facing the bed, tries to control his racing heart.

If this is all real then it is worse than Hell, therefore he cannot accept it. If this is the real Bruce and Alfred then he admitted too much and didn’t guard himself appropriately, and worst of all it means Roman did not care for him enough to put him out of his misery, instead abandoned him in a world that wants nothing but to eat the flesh off his bones. So, because this reality is simply too agonizing, he is in a badly managed piece of Hell and simply does not remember his judgement.

Despite those reflections, he feels more and more of his body as time passes, and soon starts to feel sick.

He gets up and heads to the bathroom, used to walking even when violently nauseous, kneels in front of the toilet.
Not that it’s an addiction, but he could really use a special cigarette right now. Really he had no idea the craving would follow him in Hell, but it does make sense. Perhaps his torture will be being kept apart from Roman in a world that claims to be real, and to have all the coping mechanisms he developed ripped from his hands.

“Jason,” he hears Bruce call out, hears the two men walk and come into the bathroom. “Are you okay?”

Deeming it unnecessary, Jason does not answer.

“Here,” Alfred says, much closer, handing him a glass of water.

The youngest ignores it, doubting the water will do any good. It’ll probably turn into something disgusting when it gets in his mouth, and right now he’s focused on calming his nausea.

His arm gets grabbed, he hears one of the visions sigh, then feels the prick of a needle in his bicep.
He surrenders to it, lets himself quickly drift off.

𖦹

He comes to in the batcave, which he recognizes after a few blinks and attempts to keep his eyes open.

It isn’t long before Bruce notices he woke up and walks up to him, a worried look on his face.

“How are you feeling?”

“Heavy,” he replies in a grunt.

“What’s your name?”

“Red. Jason when you’re angry.”

“Where are you?”

“… I don’t know.”

“Are you alive?”

He swallows thickly, his head thumping. “I don’t think so, no.”

“What would convince you?”

He shrugs. It hurts, he whines.

“Can you tell me why you believe you’re dead?”

“Roman killed me.”

“How?”

“He choked me.”

“Did you feel yourself die?”

“I dunno…”

“Has he choked you before?”

“Yeah.”

“Did it feel different this time?”

He freezes.

Thinks about it.

Realizes that no, it felt the same, his expectation had him pumped with adrenaline and excitement, but he didn’t feel… he didn’t feel like it went further. He passed out enough times to be familiar with the sensation. He died enough times to recall what it feels like.

“Jason?”

Is this…

Is this real..? Is he still alive..?

“I know this isn’t pleasant, I’m sorry to put you through this. But it’s dangerous if you keep thinking that you’re dead. You have to understand that you are still alive.”

His body, the bed he’s in, the air, the machinery, Bruce, every single thing becomes unbearably heavy.

Seeing how colourless his face becomes, Bruce pushes up the top half of the bed to have him straighten up and puts a plastic bag under his face just in time.

The bile scorches the youngest’s throat as his body expels it, he coughs and spits and catches his breath as Bruce then takes the bag away and wipes his face with a damp towel.

“I’m sorry for all that’s happened. I wish I had a better reality to offer you.”

“This… this isn’t Hell?” Jason asks hoarsely, weakly.

“No.”

Roman didn’t kill him. For whatever reason, Roman didn’t finish him off. Why? Was he that angry that he just… decided to worsen his torment? To force him to live through this?

Or maybe… maybe something went wrong. Maybe Roman meant to kill him but something happened and they somehow got separated. Roman wouldn’t abandon him, right? He wouldn’t do that to him.

“I have to see him,” he says as he tries to get down from the bed, but is stopped and held down by Bruce. “Don’t!” he cries out, quickly panicking as he’s being touched and held in place. “Don’t touch me, don’t, please don’t, don’t do this, please, I can’t do this, please don’t touch me,” he begs in a series of broken sobs, blinded by terror. Too many times has he been held down lately so Roman might have his way with him while he was panicking, the instinct kicks in immediately and thoughtlessly.

Bruce lets him go, but now instead of trying to contact Roman his only goal is to hide his body.
He grabs the blanket from the bed, rolls himself in it and gets down on the floor, pushing himself under the nearest desk, into a corner.

“Stay away from me,” he shouts as the man approaches him, utterly terrified of being touched.

“I’m not going to touch you, Jason. I’m sorry for holding you, I didn’t realize it could trigger you. I apologize.”

He tearfully looks up at him, alert and ready to fight.

“I just don’t believe it’s a good idea you contact him, it’s dangerous, you have to focus on healing.”

“Please don’t touch me,” he keeps begging, Bruce too close to mean anything but danger. “I’m sick of being touched, please don’t do it.”

The oldest steps back, crouches. “I’m not going to touch you. I promise.”

They stare at each other for a moment, without saying a word.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Bruce ends up asking.

He shakes his head.

“I can’t help you if you don’t give me details.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Jason, you were beaten an inch from your life, I found you passed out in an alley and you slept for three days straight, then you were convinced you were dead and now you panic when I touch you.”

“So?”

“So clearly you need help.”

“From you?“

Bruce clenches his jaw, looks down.

“The only person that can help me is Roman.”

“He’s the one that put you in this situation in the first place,” the oldest replies weakly.

“And he’s the only one that can take me out of it.” Jason swallows dryly, his gaze sharpens. “If you don’t let him kill me I’ll do it myself.”

Bruce frowns, struggles to hold his stare. “What?”

“I have to die, and you can’t stop me.”

“That’s not—“

“Don’t. I don’t care what you think. I’ve known Roman longer than I’ve known you, your opinion means nothing to me.”

“I’m not going to let you kill yourself.”

“I’m already dead. Whether my body moves or not my mind is in the same place. I’m done with this life.”

“You don’t have to live like that, this is your chance to get out.”

“And go where? Without him I’m nothing.”

For a second, Bruce hesitates. “Anywhere you want.”

“I want to go back to him.”

“He tried to kill you.”

“I asked him to do it.”

“That doesn’t justify his actions.”

“Yes it does.”

Bruce sighs, sits down and keeps his eyes fixed on the ground for a moment.

If Jason wasn’t so scared of being grabbed again he’d take this as an opportunity to run away, but the fear and knowledge that he can’t get far in this state while in Bruce’s fortress keeps him in place.

During this moment of silence he realizes that he has not taken his anxiety pills in a few days, gets swarmed by a surge of needles under his skin. Since they’re a custom medication that have only ever been used on him, he has no idea what the side effects are for abruptly stopping taking them.
He doesn’t feel particularly unwell right now, his body hurts because of fractured bones and bad bruises but the worst ailment he has medication-wise is his craving for a special cigarette.

Then, the more he has time to think, the more realizations strike him.

“Bruce,” he calls, his voice hoarse but kept steady by panic and apprehension.

The oldest looks at him, concerned. “Yes?”

“When you found me,” he swallows dryly, “was I in those clothes?”

He knows the answer, knows Roman would never let him wear loose clothes like this, doesn’t even recognize them. But he hopes, hopes that he was not naked and unconscious, hopes that nothing happened, hopes that he was safe in the alley and in this place.

Bruce seems to see how afraid he is, hesitates to speak.

“Answer me. Please. Was I… did anyone… did anyone touch me?”

“… there was no trace of sexual abuse on your body when I found you,” the oldest ends up saying, struggling with eye contact.

“How did you know?”

Now Bruce entirely shies away from eye contact. “I had to evaluate your injuries,” he justifies with difficulty.

So even here he gets violated. He gets undressed and looked at, while he’s unconscious, while he can do nothing but lay there helplessly, incapable of saying no and of insisting on staying clothed.

The pain it brings him can only come out as a hysteric burst of tears as he tries to hide himself even more with the blanket and into the corner.

His skin crawls with disgust, with agonizing awareness of how many hands have touched it and yearn to touch it, a spotlight over him that burns through any surface and fabric, forcing him to be naked no matter what he does.

“Jason, I barely touched you and it was only to see where you were hurt and then to dress you back up,” his jailer says as if that changes anything.

Touching is touching, looking is looking, there is no way to make it better, to erase the dread of having a body, of being an object. Whether Bruce had been malicious or not, Jason is still a slab of meat that was once again gazed upon and manipulated with uncovered hands, every finger that has ever been laid upon his body hardening the walls of his prison, trapping him more and more into a place he was never meant to occupy ever again.
Even Roman he couldn’t bear being touched by at the end, Roman who just forced him to take it as he tried to get away, overtaken by instincts that were supposed to have been ground into dust. He became a raw nerve stuck under imaginary flesh, every contact getting to him directly, every glance and every graze scorching him. There is no way out of it, the only cure is death.

He cannot believe Roman would do such a thing to him. It’s obvious something interrupted them and caused them to separate, maybe…

Maybe it was Micheal. Micheal never liked witnessing Roman beat him or hurt him in any way, maybe he came in and saw what was happening and took him away.
But why abandon him in an alley? And what happened to Roman?

He doesn’t feel capable of moving. There’s too many chances a hand will land on him, and his current nauseating grief nails him into place. His muscles are jello, his bones hollow, he’s exhausted and afraid, he has no way to make it to a phone without being stopped. The first step would be to calm down but he can’t, he keeps getting violated and it’s driving him fucking insane. He has no control over himself just like he has no control over what people do to him. Only Roman has the power to have him stop crying and it feels like they’re billions of miles apart. If he had a special cigarette he could do it, if he had the boost it gives him he’d be capable of getting back to Roman so quickly he’d finally be dead in a matter of minutes. But the only person that can give him one is Roman, which means he’s stuck here.

At the very least maybe a normal cigarette could help. It stabilizes his mood, it could get him calm enough to make a plan to get out of this fake Hell.

Still, is he really capable of doing anything without a special cigarette anymore..? He barely feels able to think, like it isn’t just his muscles that are atrophied but his brain as well.
Having Sarah taken away would’ve been impossible if he hadn’t been given his dose, formatting emails was a nightmare when he was down from the high and it took him hours just to construct a single sentence, so how the hell is he supposed to escape from here?

Maybe it really is easier if he just kills himself. But he feels bad, Roman was supposed to do it and he doesn’t know yet what even happened, why he didn’t do it, it feels more than wrong to take his own life before trying to figure out the details.
Though… that sounds exhausting.
What if Roman really did abandon him and it’s useless to try to go back? Would Roman really do that to him? Perhaps what he admitted to made him so angry he decided to let him live as a punishment. It was a kind of betrayal, so he does deserve to suffer for it, doesn’t he? Even if he suffered so much already…

He melts, exhausted simply by all those thoughts, his crying slowly ceasing. Tears do keep rolling down his cheeks but he stops sobbing, the act of it impossible to do when he’s this fatigued.

A long moment of nothingness passes, he keeps his eyes fixed on the floor, catching his breath while struggling to string together a single thought anymore.

Smothered by the weight of everything, he starts to struggle keeping his eyes open. Even the fear is numb, it doesn’t help him stay awake.

The world darkens around him, and soon all he can summon in his mind is Roman.

Perhaps this was all a nightmare and he’ll wake up and everything will be alright.

Chapter Text

The second he regains awareness of where he is—still wrapped in a blanket under the desk—and realizes that Bruce isn’t watching him, he decides to make a break for it.

He gets up on his trembling legs, still holding on tightly to the blanket, looks around him.
Bruce is at the computer, his back turned on him.

Good.

Used to moving silently, he makes his way to the elevator, keeping an eye on his jailer.
It’s hard to carry himself, he feels inconceivably weak, if he stops focusing on Roman for a second he fails to advance.

When he makes it, he freezes in front of the keyboard.

He forgot the password. He forgot there even was a password to get in the elevator.

Fuck, shit, fuck.

In fear it’s going to make a sound if he enters the wrong combination, he turns around and looks at the other exits.
Every other way out is too long and requires energy he doesn’t have, this is his only chance.

“Dammit,” he breathes out voicelessly.

He turns to the keyboard again, takes his chances.

Since he’s destined to die by Roman’s hand surely he’ll get the combination on the first try.

The buzz echoes in the entire cave, making his heart drop.

“Jason—“

“I’m sorry,” he lets out, on the verge of a panic attack. “I’m so sorry, please, I… I’m so sorry, I’m too tired, I don’t wanna get hit, please, I—“

“It’s alright,” Bruce interrupts softly, walking up to him. “I’m not going to do anything, I’m not angry. I’m sorry for locking you in here, I have no choice for now, it’s for your own safety.”

“I need to go back home, I’m sorry, please let me go…” He’s too tired and scared to do anything but immediately revert to begging, that’s all he’s been doing lately and he just can’t find it in himself right now to get angry instead. “I need to be with him, please…”

“I can’t let you die, I’m sorry. I talked to Barbara and Dick, they both said they’d be okay giving you a place to live and looking over you while you recover, you can choose where you want to go, here, with Barbara or with Dick, but I can’t let you go anywhere else.”

So he’s just… he’s just even more of an object now. Being moved from place to place, exchanged between people, confined to their rules because he doesn’t have the strength to fight.

Roman told him, if he’s in trouble he should call him no matter what. He should fight back and call for help, and that’s all he wants to do right now but he can barely keep hanging on to the blanket.

“You don’t have to make a choice right now, you can take your time. There’s no rush, no danger anymore.”

“You can’t do this to me,” he cries. “You don’t own me, you don’t— you don’t get to choose what happens to me, we’re not even… we don’t even know each other, you’re a stranger, you have no right to keep me here.”

“Even— Even if that’s true, it’s my duty as a fellow human being to help you.”

Jason laughs humourlessly. “By kidnapping me? You have got to be kidding,” he whines tearfully.

“You can’t expect me to let you go back to a man that you admitted wants to kill you.”

“That’s exactly what I expect, that’s what anyone would do, there’s no point in doing anything else.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m not going to let you die.”

Once again Jason bursts into tears and falls to his knees, unable to do anything else.

“Jason,” Bruce sighs sadly. “I’m sorry, I wish I could change something, I… I know you moved on, if I could I’d let you go to a private clinic instead but it’d be too dangerous. With everyone knowing you and…” He falls silent. This isn’t the time to go into details, and every word he says fails to alleviate his guilt, instead keeps making it worse. There is nothing he could tell Jason that would make this situation more bearable, and perhaps the best thing to do would be to stay silent but he needs to ask questions, there’s something very important he has to bring up, he can only hope Jason will understand it’s only to help.

Guessing the proximity stresses Jason even more, Bruce reluctantly gets back to the computer. It’s not like the youngest can go anywhere, and all the weapons and such are locked away, if Jason does try something Bruce will have the time to intervene. Therefore he’ll wait until things get calmer again to continue asking questions.

It pains him to see and hear Jason be in such a state, and if he could he’d hold him close and soothe him like he used to do when the boy had nightmares as a child, but… even if Jason wasn’t triggered by physical contact, there’s a distance between them that makes it hard for Bruce to even really imagine holding him. After all that Jason said to him and the way he behaved towards him those past years he cannot ever have hope that things can go back to the way they were again. Jason has broken his heart continuously for so long, and he understands that he deserves it, that no matter what it will never be as bad as what he himself has done to Jason, but at some point, when both sides are hurt, a full reconciliation becomes impossible.

His heart tightens at that thought.

He’d give anything to go back in time and make it right. This is all his fault, if he had shown Jason an open palm instead of a fist when he came back Jason would’ve come back home and never gotten into this mess. He never should’ve believed Jason either, that he was happy with Sionis, he became an actor of course he sold the lie well, so well even Bruce ended up believing him. Now it’s obvious none of it was good, not a single reaction Jason has does anything but prove he suffers from Stockholm Syndrome.

Maybe he could contact Harley. Pay her to come over and give him a therapy session if she’s up for it, since she’s probably the closest person that could relate to some of the things he’s gone through. He doubts Jason would be open to that, though…. Still, he could try. He owes it to Jason to do the types of efforts he failed to do before.

For now he keeps waiting, anxious to bring up a subject he’s certain will cause Jason even more pain to talk about. Really, he would stay quiet about it if it weren’t incredibly important to know the details. He knows this won’t be easy and it might just make things worse, but it’s too serious to ignore, especially when he looks at the test results.

After a while Jason comes back, sniffling but not crying anymore, keeping a safe distance from Bruce and standing tall, attempting to act like Red. “Can I have a phone, please?” he requests softly and hoarsely.

“I’m sorry, I can’t give that to you yet.”

Jason bites the inside of his cheeks, takes a deep breath. “I have an important phone call to make.”

“Which is?”

“I have an important medication to take every morning, I haven’t taken it since I’ve been here, I need to get them.”

“What’s your medication?”

“I don’t remember the name, but it helps me with my anxiety so it’s very important I take it.”

That explains some of the results of the blood tests. “You’re medicated for anxiety?”

“Yes.” Jason is only admitting this in hopes it’ll worry Bruce enough to let him go so he might take his pills. “I need them to stay calm.”

“How long have you been taking them?”

“… six or seven years, I think. A bit before the first Halloween Ball I attended here.”

“Why did you need them?”

“I already said why. I have anxiety.”

“What causes you anxiety?”

“I’m sorry, is this an interrogation? I’m not telling you so you might learn my medical history, I’m telling you so you understand it’s your fault if I die of side effects from abruptly stopping my medication.”

“I don’t think it’ll result in death, but I can look it up and try to find it so you can take it again as soon as possible.”

The youngest swallows a sigh, sits down on the bed because it’s too tiring to stand.

A long moment of silence takes place, Bruce tries to figure out what’s the best way to bring up the subject he dreads to mention.

“Jason..?” he starts very softly, very carefully. “There’s, uh… there’s something else I need to ask. I know you’ve been through a lot, I know those past years must’ve been hell, so I am not judging, I simply need to know.” He pauses, swallows dryly. “Have you been consuming cocaine for long..?”

Jason freezes, then slowly frowns. “What..?”

“It’s okay, I understand, this isn’t easy, but to help you get clean I need to know.”

“I— I don’t…” His heart is racing, his mind fogging over. “I don’t take c— I don’t… I don’t take drugs…” He hears Mark’s voice, the last thing he tried to say before he stabbed him.

He feels sick.

“The test says otherwise, Jason. It’s alright if you do, it’s not something you have to be ashamed of, I’m here to help you.”

“I— I don’t…” The floor is spinning under him.

Bruce considers him attentively. The way his son shakes and how colourless his face is worries him beyond words. “Jason..?”

“I’m not—“ Lump in his throat. Tears coming up. “He said… he said it wasn’t that,” he protests weakly. “He said… he said it wasn’t what I thought it was.”

The oldest’s face distorts with shock and anger. “What?”

Jason looks up at him. “It’s not that, the— the test was wrong, he— he said it wasn’t that.”

“You didn’t know?”

“It’s not that,” the youngest insists, denial hardening his voice. “It isn’t. Your test is wrong.”

“I did the test multiple times. It gave the same results with each sample. If he really did give you a hard drug without telling you then—“

Jason screams “stop lying to me” at the top of his lungs, storming off before Bruce can keep planting lies in his mind.

But his body is weak, painfully weak, he doesn’t manage to go far before all his muscles give out and cause him to crumble on the floor, struggling to take in a breath. His lungs are rigid and tight, and his heart doesn’t feel like it’s beating at a regular interval, it feels like it’s beating randomly and way too hard, but he has no idea if he’s just panicking or if the pain is actually real.

The whole room starts to spin around him while the floor sways, he’s sinking into it, he’s going to suffocate, this isn’t how he’s supposed to die, the earth itself isn’t allowed to swallow him, only Roman is allowed to kill him.

Bruce watches Jason panic, is at first frozen in place because he’s torn between his righteous rage and his need to help, a hand aching to seek Justice and the other aching to help the victim.
When he finally manages to move he hurries to grab a weighted blanket and puts it over Jason’s shoulders, hoping it grounds him enough to allow him to breathe. It’s all he can do without directly touching him, expecting physical contact to turn this already dire situation into something even worse. His priority is to avoid Jason experimenting dangerous symptoms of withdrawal that his panic attack might entice, since he has no idea how long he’s been consuming cocaine he doesn’t know how high the risks are of him getting grave effects from the drug.
The saliva, urine and blood tests he passed, twice each every day that Jason has been here, showed a worrying amount of the drug in his system. He doesn’t know if he’s always consumed as much as he has right before he got here, while he has met him a few times this past year and never suspected him of being high he cannot immediately rule out the possibility that he’s been consuming cocaine for a long period of time.

The fact that Jason wasn’t aware he was given cocaine does make sense, though every mind has a breaking point he dreads to imagine what Sionis could’ve done to have him willingly consume a hard drug. It must’ve been under the form of crack and hidden in cigarettes, that’s the only way he could’ve consumed it without knowing what it was.

It sickens him to think of all Jason must’ve gone through, he understands why he cannot bear being touched anymore, though he wonders why it happened now and not before, what was the breaking point. It is a possibility that he’s been waiting for Sionis to kill him for a while, maybe for the seven years he’s been known as Red Diamond, but what happened for things to derail the way they have? With Jason refusing to say what happened, Bruce can only imagine every scenario possible and prepare for the worst of each, worried most especially of the idea that Sionis might try to get Jason back so he can kill him, since Jason is so adamantly determined to die by his hands it’ll be hard to keep him here and will require Bruce to ignore his triggers and force him to stay in this place much more explicitly.

As of right now his main worry is Jason’s drug use, afraid that it has been bad enough to cause symptoms such as seizures, kidney failure, heart problems and many other things that could significantly aggravate Jason’s quality of life which already seems incredibly low.
The youngest’s aversion at being touched will make examining him much more difficult, he might have to resort to sedating him which he dreads and already feels guilty about. It’s necessary and for his own good but Jason will never see it like that, will only loathe and distrust Bruce even more.

The current panic attack that Jason is undergoing doesn’t calm, instead it appears that he’s slowly losing consciousness.

Having no choice, Bruce grabs a stethoscope and crouches in front of him to listen to his heartbeat.
It’s irregular, which isn’t a good sign.

“Don’t,” the youngest lets out in a hoarse breath before his eyes flutter closed, attempting to push the man away but failing at even raising a hand.

Soon after he crumbles and Bruce takes it as an opportunity to conduct a short examination.

The first three days Jason was here, Bruce did the minimum as to let him rest since he very obviously needed it. He had hoped Jason would be more cooperative and willing to talk considering he was left defenceless in an alley, counted on his account of the situation to determine the details, but it seems like he’ll have no choice but to search for answers by himself.
It pains him beyond words to do so, seeing that for the past near decade Jason has not been listened to and respected by others, if he could he would not touch him in the slightest and show he can be trusted but he has no choice, Jason might die if he’s not taken care of correctly and Bruce will never pass up his second chance to save him no matter what. He can handle being hated if it means that Jason is alive, he’ll be the bad guy if that’s what it takes, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be smothered by the guilt of it for the rest of his life.

𖦹

Jason stays unconscious for a while, long enough for Bruce to feed him intravenously and make sure he’s hydrated on top of examining him, and still is passed out as Bruce hesitates whether it’s better to leave him there where he’ll immediately know he was touched and moved or if it’s better to lie and put him back on the floor so he believes he was left alone.

Both feel like the bad choice, but to avoid causing another panic attack Bruce decides to bring him back to the floor. With the way his heart was beating, Bruce has to prioritize keeping him calm, even if lying and maybe even gaslighting him will be heart wrenching to do.

When Jason comes to it’s with a low grunt and a hand instinctively pressing on his chest, then murmurs weakly: “Roman..? I have a weird pain, it hurts…”

Bruce lets him remember where he is by himself, bites the inside of his cheeks and stays back, sitting at the computer.

Instead of breaking down again as he recognizes the place, Jason closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, stays still for a while.

Then, he gets up and walks back to the elevator, but doesn’t press on a single button. He just waits there, hands shaking and legs struggling to hold him up, doing everything in his power to convince himself that what Bruce told him was only a nightmare and not reality.

His waiting pays off because a while later the elevator opens and Alfred comes out of it, allowing Jason to run in and frantically press the up button.

By some miracle no one tries to stop him and he’s too busy escaping to care about why.

The elevator brings him up in the living room, he runs out of it and to the door. It’s locked but he keeps trying, and soon both Bruce and Alfred come up to him with a hurried step.

“I can’t let you leave yet, it’s too dangerous,” Bruce tells him.

“I don’t care,” he pants in reply, pulling on the handle erratically. “Please just let me go, please..!”

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“Alfred,” Jason turns to the butler, tears in his eyes, “please let me go, you cannot tell me I’m safer here, you… you have to help me, you can’t let him kidnap me and lock me up,” he pleads.

Alfred looks at him, grief and pain digging in his traits, not even capable of uttering an apology.

“Please,” the youngest lets out desperately. “This is insane, you know it, please, Alfred, please, you can’t let him do this to me…”

The two men just look at him, grimacing with pity, watching him get back to the doorknob and trying over and over again until he can’t stand anymore.

“He’s going to come for me,” he says more to himself than them. “He’ll save me… he— he wouldn’t abandon me, I’m a star.” Not anymore, he lost his spark, but still. Roman had to kill him, that’s the only way this can end, so until that happens he has to believe there’s still something within him worth wanting back.

Unless… unless he kills himself. Which at this point might be his last option.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, takes a series of long breaths, then declares: “I have to go to the bathroom.” He gets up by pushing himself against the door, incapable of standing by himself. He stumbles forward, they let him pass, he uses the wall to stay up as he walks.

There’s a slight issue; they both follow him. It quickly has him nervous on top of frustrated, he wanted to sneak to the kitchen and grab a knife so he could stab himself in the heart, but now he has no choice but to actually go to the closest bathroom and hope there’s a first aid kit in there with scissors.

He closes the door, doesn’t lock it, and quickly starts to look through the cabinets as silently as possible.

It’s hard, his hands keep shaking and his mouth is dry and his eyes struggle focusing and just every single part of his body does not cooperate, his heart beats weirdly and he would do anything for some relief but he has to kill himself, there’s no time for anything else.

But of course there’s nothing sharp in here, of course the only way he could do anything in here to end his life would be to drown himself and there’s no way he’ll be able to do that both because of his difficulty with water and because they’ll surely hear the running water.

He opens the door, gets out without caring to clean up the mess he made when searching for a sharp object, and with a defeated sigh he asks blankly for a cigarette.

His two captors look inside the bathroom with a frown, then Bruce nods and walks off.

Too tired, Jason sits down against the wall next to the bathroom door. “I always thought you were the voice of reason,” he tells the butler. “But you’re as insane as him.” He looks down, shakes his head. “You’re both just like everyone else. What I want doesn’t matter, it’s just about owning me.”

Alfred doesn’t say anything. Simply looks over him, at a loss for words. It’s not that he has nothing to say, on the contrary there’s too much to bring up all at once, he doesn’t know where to start and what’s worth saying.

Bruce comes back with a pack of cigarettes soon after, hands one to Jason who hastily brings it to his lips. It’s lit for him, he doesn’t get to touch the lighter, and immediately takes a long drag out of it.

He finally manages to relax, his lungs don’t ache as much when he breathes.
With a content breath he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes.

Things will be fine, he just needs to make a plan. He’s trying to rush himself and in his current state it can do nothing but complicate his stay here, he has to give himself time to think and to manipulate his captors to make up for his lack of physical strength.

His priority should be to earn enough trust so he can make a phone call in secret or maybe even leave altogether—though leaving would be hard since he’d have to walk home and he might get recognized on the street. Therefore his best bet is to call Roman for help, have him rescue him so he can finally put an end to his miserable life. It should also be much easier to procure himself a phone instead of a key to a door outside.
Pushing himself will be demanding, he’s been failing to act like Red for a little bit now but he has no choice if he wants to get back to Roman. The more he shows he’s a complete mess the more he’ll be surveilled.
Physically he might not be able to be very star-like, but emotionally he’ll have to keep control, though he might freak out again if Bruce brings up another demented lie.

“I’m sorry for acting erratically,” he says after a few minutes. “I’m stressed and I’m tired. I’d like to go back to bed if that’s alright.”

“Of course. And you don’t need to apologize.”

He nods and pushes himself up. “What was my room again?”

“I’ll bring you.”

He presses his piercing against the roof of his mouth. “Alright.”
This is the last thing he has to push through, then it’s all over. All he needs is to keep that in mind.

It’s so fucking hard to do things without a special cigarette—which contains a homemade concoction, not the thing Bruce said it did—he would not make it to the regular elevator without the wall there to support him.

“Is there anything you’d like to have in your room? Books, plants, more blankets..?”

“I do have some products I need to apply daily,” he says even if there’s not really a point anymore. It just makes him anxious to not do his skincare, he’s afraid of how old and tired he must already start to look like. “I can make a list.”

“Oh, uh, fine, alright.”

That’s nice, he was worried Bruce would refuse.

“You know, I have a backup electric wheelchair for Barbara, you can use it if you’d like.”

“I don’t need a wheelchair, I’m simply a bit exhausted, that’s all.”

They arrive to the bedroom, instinctively Jason makes sure to be at a safe distance both from Bruce and the bed.

“I’ll try to find the medication you were on while you rest.”

“About that, it doesn’t really exist. It is a medication I take but it was catered to me, I underwent trials until we found the right one, I don’t think it’s on the market.”

Bruce frowns. “… why?”

“I just… the already existing pills didn’t, uh,” he looks for the right words, “merge well with my career.” He pinches his lips, uncomfortable. “Like weight gain as a side effect,” he adds just to put the focus on something else than the obvious.

“So you had trial drugs tested on you and adjusted for you until you found the right one?”

He nods.

“How long did that take..?”

“A couple of nights.”

Silence.

“You know, I could call Roman and ask him if—“

“No, it’s alright. I’ll figure something out. You can focus on resting for now.”

Well at least he tried.

“Oh, before you do that, though,” Bruce walks to the desk in the bedroom, takes a notepad out of it and a pen from his vest, “could you write down the products you need?”

Jason steps forward slowly and carefully, Bruce gives him some space.

He writes down all of the things he needs for his showers and skin care, and just that has him fight an intense wave of fatigue.
Thinking is exhausting, he’s not sure he even wrote actual words it just looks like blurry scribbling, and the more he tries the less he recalls the names of what he uses.

How many times has he answered such questions during interviews? How many times has he walked people through his routine? And now he can’t even remember the name of his night cream, only that it’s all from Janus Cosmetics.
If he was home right now he’d beg Roman for a special cigarette, he can’t think anymore without one, can’t write, can’t do anything but wish he was dead.

“I, uh… I dunno if I wrote it down correctly,” he says with a bit of difficulty. “I’m really tired, I… I’ll finish tomorrow.”

“It’s alright, I’ll get what I can for now.” Bruce takes the notepad and the pen, then exits the bedroom, allowing Jason to get to bed safely.

He hides under the covers, passes out immediately.

𖦹

Kneeling at the sink in the bathroom joint to the bedroom, Jason cries softly as he tries to wash his face.
He’s too exhausted to stand, too exhausted to not put water everywhere, does his best despite how limp and weak his body is.

Without Roman around to do it for him because he’s too exhausted, he has no choice but to do it himself.
He tried to take a shower too, ended up getting in clothed because he couldn’t bear being naked and stayed sitting in the tub the entire time, which is why the floor is soaking wet under him despite the towel he’s sitting on.
He’s scared of being punished for the mess he’s making and the way he’s behaving, he keeps hearing the door open and turns around, ready to beg for understanding only to realize he’s alone and the door is still closed.

When he manages to put on his face mask he has fifteen minutes where he can just relax, his head down and concentrated on his breathing, careful that his tears drip directly on the ground so they don’t get on the mask.
He never thought he’d have to do all of this ever again, it’s horrible and tedious and fuck if he wasn’t so scared of being ugly he’d just give up on it.

The irony isn’t lost on him, that he’s scared of being ugly yet cannot bear being desired by anyone anymore, he just doesn’t have the energy to care or unpack that shit right now.
He’s definitely going straight back to bed after this, and since he has no phone he can only hope he’ll wake up at the right time to do the night routine too.

No one has come to see him today yet, there was only a paper slid under his door saying there was a bottle of water and breakfast on the other side of it, which is what happened yesterday morning too on top of receiving his products. Someone did come in the afternoon though, so he expects it to happen again today.
Yesterday Bruce tried to get him to talk shit about Roman, tried to get him to say all the bad things as if the good hadn’t outweighed them, and tried to tell him the horrible lie about the special cigarettes again. It was a fucking nightmare and he really hopes today will be different.

Though he has mostly slept yesterday and plans to do the same again today, when he would get restless in bed and too agitated to fall back asleep he started to look through the bedroom piece by piece for something he could use to commit suicide.
So far there’s nothing, the room is empty, it doesn’t even have a single pen lying around.
Bruce must’ve scrubbed it clean of such things one of the times he was passed out, which is so incredibly annoying. It’s entitled and selfish of him to get mixed up in Jason and Roman’s things, to get involved so much as if he has any right to even speak to him like they’re something other than strangers. It’s worse than the greedy lustful men that flirt with him, they at least still know their place, they never tried to actually forcefully take him away from Roman. But Bruce is actively kidnapping him and keeping him apart, claiming he wants him to ‘heal’ and ‘recover’ as if that was ever an option.

It’s insulting and demeaning, they treat him like he’s a poor stupid victim, not like the fucking star that he is. He understands he’s not his usual self, he’s tired and can’t fake smiles, but that’s why he has to die, he’s past his expiration date and they just keep him on the shelf instead of throwing him away. He’s being forced to rot, to become ugly and incapable, if he does get back to Roman by some miracle he’ll be so messed up he might not even recognize him.

It doesn’t help that he has no direct access to even a simple cigarette, he has no buffer for reality, he has to wait until someone comes so he can ask for one and then he gets told he can’t smoke in bed because it’s ‘dangerous’ so he has to get up and sit at the desk instead. It’s ridiculous, this whole situation is completely ridiculous.
He has to find a way out of here and fast.

𖦹

In the afternoon, Jason’s nervous tossing and turning is interrupted by Bruce coming in the bedroom.

“Jason?”

“Cigarette,” he requests blankly, holding out a hand. “Please,” he adds despite himself.

“Could you get out of bed first?” Bruce asks softly.

He sighs, pushes himself up, keeping one blanket over his already comically covered body, and gets to the desk with a lot of difficulty.

“How much do you usually smoke every day?” the oldest questions as he hands him one and lights it for him.

“Depends,” he answers after a long drag and a sigh.

“On what?”

He shrugs lazily. “Bunch of stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Why do you care?”

“I just… I’m trying to do some harm reduction. If smoking helps, you can do it as much as you’d like for now.”

“Then why don’t you let me smoke by myself?”

“I can’t let you have a lighter, not in your current state. But you can ring the bell whenever you want something.”

“I’m fine, my nerves just got the best of me for a moment, that’s all. No need to hide a lighter from me.”

“I wish I could believe that, but…”

“You know, usually when I overreact other people don’t overreact as a response.”

“I don’t think you overreacted.”

He chuckles tiredly. “I know I’m dramatic, you don’t have to lie, it’s not gonna hurt my feelings.”

Bruce’s brows furrow.

“What?”

“I’ve seen you be dramatic before, this isn’t the same. You’re reacting sanely, you’re reacting like—“

“Don’t,” Jason interrupts sharply. “Don’t say that to me. I’m not having that conversation again.”

“What conversation?”

“… it’s not important.” Even after all that time Mark still haunts him. Maybe because it was the moment he realized he’d never be safe no matter who he’s with, even if he did eventually let down his guard with Cali…

But never again. He’s going to die soon, it’ll all be finally over with soon. He just has to get out of here first.

He takes another long drag, watches the smoke when he blows it out.

“Withdrawal can be hard,” Bruce starts after a long moment of silence, “distractions can help. Are you sure you don’t want a tv or books? To help you keep your mind off things?”

“I’m not going through withdrawal. This is just… it’s clearly just symptoms of stopping my meds out of nowhere.”

“Jason, I know it’s hard but you can’t stay in denial about it. It’s not healthy.”

“I’m not—“ He stops himself. Arguing won’t get him any closer to leaving.

He clenches his jaw, takes a few more drags before speaking again.

“Fine. I want a tv and my movies.”

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea. I can get you other movies, but—“

“I don’t want other movies. I want mine.”

“Jason…”

By habit, he does his puppy eyes and lets out a soft “please..?” since it’s been the most successful way to get listened to for those past couple of years.

It seems to sway his jailer, who stammers for a moment before proposing a compromise. “I could… I can get you one of your movies, and the rest can be other movies.”

“Why? I’ve let you keep me locked in here, I’ve been good the past two days, haven’t I? Why are you punishing me?”

“This isn’t— this isn’t a punishment, I’m not trying to hurt you, I just… I want you to get better, I’m trying to help you.”

“By asking me what I want and then telling me no? What’s the point?”

Bruce considers him. “I… alright, I’ll… I’ll get you your movies. But I’ll get you other ones too, and if it makes you feel worse I’ll have to take them away.”

Okay, good. “Thanks…”

“… is there anything else you’d like?”

He shakes his head.

“Alright. If you change your mind you can ring the bell whenever.”

Which he’ll never do, but he keeps that information to himself. He’s not going to make himself depend on them on purpose, he’ll suffer through this because there’s a big chance that’s what Roman wants him to do, and then when the opportunity arises he’ll leave this place and go die.

𖦹

The next day, Alfred incites him to come take a walk around the manor while Bruce sets up the screen in his temporary bedroom.

“It’s important you move everyday,” he got told as if it mattered.
Still, he goes along with it, tries not to be too provocative and aggressive so they’ll let their guard down sooner.

When they’re taking a break in the dining room, Jason’s legs needing rest after a three minute walk, the doorbell rings.

Alfred looks at him then towards the entrance, hesitant.

It’s Jason who gets up first, a gut feeling telling him he has to answer.

“I don’t think it’s wise to answer the door,” Alfred says to him, an edge of anxiety in his voice. “You can go back to your room now if you want, while I answer.”

“It’s for me, I know it’s for me,” Jason replies, walking still because the butler doesn’t dare touch him.

“Please get back, it isn’t a good idea.”

Soon Bruce arrives as Jason makes it to the front door.

“I heard the doorbell,” the other jailer says.

Jason looks through the peephole. “Micheal?” he breathes out when he recognizes the man behind the door. “You have to open it,” he requests pleadingly, turning towards his captors. “This is important, you have to open the door.”

“We will,” Bruce says, “but stay back with me, alright? I don’t want to touch you but I will hold you if I have to.”

The threat works, Jason steps back, Bruce puts an arm in front of him without making contact as Alfred opens the door.

Micheal scans the inside, his traits soften when his eyes land on Jason. He holds out an envelope towards him, yanks it back when Alfred tries to grab it and instead slides it towards Jason.

As quickly as he can, Jason crouches and grabs it, and as he does, a small quick ticking is heard, and next thing he knows there’s a squelching sound and blood splatters all around the entrance, mostly on Alfred.

He gasps, looks at the headless corpse of Micheal fall, and immediately understands the message.

Roman left him on purpose.

While Bruce hurries to Alfred, Jason frantically opens the envelope and reads its contents.

You changed too much, you were neither my star nor the diamond in the rough you used to be. Your life and death are completely worthless, do what you will with it, but it’s none of my business anymore. Do not show your face to anyone ever again.

The entire world stops moving. The earth does not spin, the wind freezes, the birds fall silent, everything ceases to live.

He rereads the lines over and over again, looking for a secret message or a sign that this isn’t actually Roman’s doing, but he knows his handwriting and in his heart knows this is the truth.

The air hardens in his lungs. His blood becomes too thick to rush through his veins. Every organ and muscle he has turns to stone.

All he’s done, all he gave, all of it was for nothing. In the end he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t worth the work. The one person that allowed him to stop being a ghost just forced him to be one again.

He is stuck between his worthless life and worthless death. This place is his grave, this letter the dirt he’s buried under.

He has nowhere to go back to. No home.

Without Roman giving him worth, he is nothing. Not a star, not a diamond, not worth the slightest bit of love or attention. All he’s been those past seven years, it’s down the drain, it disappeared like it never existed.

How many times does he have to die? How many times does he have to become a ghost?

Killing himself doesn’t feel worth the effort. If his death really is as worthless as his life, what’s the difference? Clearly Roman wants him to suffer for a while anyway, and maybe if he does that’ll change his mind and he’ll take him back.

Maybe if he suffers enough the world will go back to moving again.

Chapter Text

All he does anymore is lay in bed and watch his movies while crying.

He used to be good, he used to be pretty, he used to be worth caring about. Now he’s just an old worthless has-been.

It’s all he sees in the mirror, he understands why Roman hadn’t recognized him and therefore didn’t care to kill him, he doesn’t look like Jason or Red, he looks like a corpse, a disgusting remnant of something that doesn’t even exist anymore. No one would want him anymore, which is why he never flinches when Bruce feeds him intravenously. Now he’d give anything to be wanted like he used to be, he’s mad at himself beyond words for being scared of it when he understands that was his only worth. It’s why he took off his star piercing; he doesn’t deserve it anymore.

“Jason, it’s been two weeks.”

He ignores Bruce, keeps staring at the screen. It’s his death scene soon, which he watches with most attention.

“You have to get out of bed eventually.”

His character, Beau, is currently investigating a dark basement, holding a flashlight and breathing quickly. The murderer is hidden behind a shelf, waiting for him to come closer.

“Can you pause the movie so we can talk?”

A rat scurrying causes a jump-scare. Some tension is relieved, the music calms, Beau catches his breath with a hand over his heart.

“I called Dick, he’s going to drop by later.”

Beau keeps walking, then, the real jump-scare; the murderer jumps at him and stabs him in the stomach. Beau gasps and cries out, looks down as the knife is pulled out of him. He presses his hands over the wound, moaning, panting, stumbling back but after two steps hitting a wall behind him.

“Jason…”

He starts to beg as the murderer approaches, teary eyed, blood gushing between his fingers. Then, the murderer grabs his wrists with one hand and forces his arms up, leaving his wound uncovered since he’s wearing a crop top. The knife gets re-angled with the wound, and slowly the murderer thrusts it back in, causing Beau to whine loudly, his begs turning into nothing but pained screams. Slowly, the knife gets pulled up while still inside him, having him jerk and gasp in horror, the pain reaching every nerve in his body.
The first part that gives out are his legs, his chest heaving as blood and entrails fall out of him, then his eyes flutter, still gasping and panting and moaning and crying, before he finally lets out his last breath, and the murderer lets go of him causing him crumble on the floor.

“That’s what should’ve happened,” Jason mumbles tearfully, grimacing with yearning. Even that stupid character with no personality was worth killing, and even dead he still looks beautiful. He got to die at his prime, he got to die while people still thought he had any worth.

The screen turns black.

“What—“

“Jason, this is going too far.”

“Put it back..!”

“You can’t spend the rest of your life doing this, it’s not good for you.”

“Put it back, please, put it back,” he sobs.

“You have to find something else to do, you have to do something else with your life.”

“Please, please put it back, please… I need to see it, please, I need it…”

“You need to talk about it, you need to get out of bed, you need to find a way to move on.”

“I wanna keep watching, please, put it back on, please…”

Bruce looks at him for a moment, then closes his eyes and sighs. “I’ll come check on you again in half an hour.”

The second Bruce leaves, Jason sits up with some difficulty to grab the remote and put the movie back on before letting himself fall onto the pillows, resuming his yearning.

The other characters are horrified when they find Beau’s body, he’s grieved and missed, the final girl remembers him as a pretty and amusing friend.

When the credits roll, he sobs loudly as he sees his own name, Red Diamond. That’s not who he is anymore, he doesn’t deserve to even see it as his name and yet… he wants to go back to this. He shouldn’t have lost his mind, he just had a breakdown and convinced himself it meant the end, he ruined everything, pinned it on Roman and forced him into acting prematurely, he never should’ve done that, Roman told him he wouldn’t kill him yet, that he had more to give and he just… didn’t believe him.

He deserves to suffer for that. For destroying all of Roman’s work like this.

The credits are still playing when the door opens. “Jason? Dick is here.”

But he’s too busy rewinding to see his name come on the screen and disappear over and over again to hear them. He just cries, eyes fixed on the screen, unaware of anything around it.

But then a hand comes into his vision and manually turns off the tv.

In a fit of anger, Jason throws the remote at Bruce, aiming for his head but ending up not touching him in the slightest. “Fuck off!” he shouts. “Leave me alone!”

“Dick came to visit,” Bruce replies softly.

“Hey,” Dick greets a bit awkwardly.

He glares at him.

“It’s important that you socialize, and if you don’t want to speak to me I thought you might be more open to speaking to Dick.”

It’s… what is going on? Why does… why does Bruce want him to socialize? Acting like he wants him to ‘heal’ and then having the same motives as Roman..? Since when does socializing matter to Bruce? And with Dick? That’s… gross.

Now he’s angry and confused and they look at him like it’s his job to start a conversation, like they’re Roman and he’s getting approached by someone in his early years of stardom.
But he’s done with that, he’s not a star anymore, so he says the only thing worth the effort anymore. “Cigarette.”

“Can you get out of bed first, please?”

He sighs loudly, throws his blanket at Bruce with the little strength he has—which is so little the blanket doesn’t even leave the bed—and gets up, walks to the desk and lets himself fall gracelessly on the chair, slumped and holding out his hand.

As usual Bruce gives it to him and lights it for him, and he immediately takes a long drag, closes his eyes and leans his head back to breathe out.

“I’ll leave you alone with Dick now.”

He ignores him, stays focused on the appeasement nicotine brings him.

“So, uh…” Dick starts after the door closes. “I know this is weird and complicated, but… I’m here if you wanna talk about it. I’m definitely a better listener than Bruce,” he tries to joke, but Jason just glares at him again.

“I don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Listen, I get repression runs in the family but you gotta know it never worked out for anyone. Sharing helps, even if you think it won’t.”

“I’m not part of your family.”

Dick sighs sadly, leans against the wall behind him. “Alright, well… you can still talk to me. Can’t be good to keep all that stuff to yourself.”

He rolls his eyes. This whole attempted therapy thing is getting old.

A silence takes place. Jason alternates between staring at his cigarette and at the wall, sees the silence as an opportunity to act like he’s alone while smoking for once.

“…. Bruce told me you like to watch your movies.”

He frowns, unsure of where this is going.

“You wanna show me one? I’ve never actually watched any.”

Despite himself, he looks at Dick with interest. He doesn’t like the idea of watching one with another person, but the remote is on the ground and he doesn’t want to pick it up so if he says yes then Dick will do it for him. And chances are he’ll just leave after a few minutes like Bruce does, and then he’ll be by himself again.
Therefore, he nods.

“Cool. You watch them in bed, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then let’s get to it.”

“I’m still smoking, I’m not allowed to do it in the bed.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

… okay. Weird. But he is right, Bruce’s rules don’t matter. He’s just used to doing what’s asked of him, he forgets disobedience is an option.

So he gets back in bed, Dick grabs the desk chair and brings it next to it, gives the remote back to Jason before sitting down on it.

Jason relaxes when he sees Dick does not get in bed with him, and smoking while in a much more comfortable place and position calms him a lot more.

He turns the tv back on and simply looking at the screen with all his movies displayed has him get teary eyed.

“You miss it a lot?”

He nods without looking at Dick. Goes over each title twice before picking one.

The fourth movie he played in starts, which actually starts with him running through the woods, seeming panicked, breathing quickly with close camera angles.

As he watches, the tears are quick to pour, faced with his past beauty, tormented by it, by the time in his life where he still had worth.

“Did you actually run through a real forest for this?”

He shakes his head absently. “That was on set,” he adds in a soft mumble.

“Oh cool. That looks super real.”

His character, named Jace, gets caught and pushed onto the ground, the man running after him climbing over him.
They both smile at each other, panting. “You’re fast,” the other, named Scott, says to Jace.
“You’re faster,” Jace replies, glancing down at his lips. “So what’re you gonna do now that you caught me?” he flirts.
“Oh, I’m gonna do all sorts of things to you.”
“Well then, don’t keep me in suspense.”
Scott leans in, they start to make out and slowly the camera pans back until only the top of the trees can be seen, Jace cries out loudly and birds fly off, the scene ending on that.

“Is it weird to see yourself do stuff like that?”

He shrugs.

“I guess you get used to it after a while.”

“It’s not really me,” he replies weakly. “Not anymore.”

“Why? You do method acting or something?”

“No, I…” He sniffles. “I’m just… I’m not Red Diamond anymore, I’m not anything…”

“Oh. Well, I get that. It’s hard to find a new identity. I went through that when I stopped being Robin.”

“I don’t want a new identity… I want to be him,” he sobs as he points at the screen, at his character, “I want to be pretty again, I want to die at the end of the story…”

“…. Doesn’t that just mean it’s not the end of the story yet, then?”

He sighs sorrowfully. “You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?”

“The end happened already, I just didn’t… I got written out of the script and now I’m… I’m nothing…”

“So… what happens now?”

“I just have to whither away… wait until I finally die.”

“So you can’t do anything until that happens?”

He shakes his head, sniffling some more.

“Then isn’t watching movies and smoking kinda cheating?”

“I—“ He frowns, looks at Dick without pausing the movie, unsure of what to say.

“I don’t mean it as a reproach, I’m just… if you can cheat here and there, you can help me finish a salad I made.”

His brows furrow even more, he opens his mouth to answer but he has no idea what his answer even is.

“Bruce doesn’t like it and Alfred’s allergic to the sauce, you’re the only one that can help me.”

“I’m not… I can’t eat salad with sauce,” he ends up saying. “Unless it’s for special occasions,” he cries more loudly, well aware there won’t ever be a special occasion in his ‘life’ anymore, bringing his attention back to the screen.

For a moment after that he keeps watching the movie and Dick stays silent.
The plot unfolds, Scott and Jace, secret lovers, stay at a cabin in the woods with a group of friends and the horror starts, at first it’s some stalking, and then the first murder, and now the panicking starts.

“Was it weird to play someone called Jace?” Dick speaks again, while the characters all argue over what to do.

He shrugs. Maybe it was for the first two times he got called that and read it in the script, but he got used to it quickly. He said his goodbyes after all, stuff like that stopped mattering a long time ago.

In the movie, some characters try to leave while others stay inside. Jace, unaware of the horrors that began and only feels watched from time to time, is skinny dipping in the lake nearby, alone.

Remembering the day they shot that scene has him cry even more. He was so nervous about swimming, being in water and risking a panic in front of cameras and so many people, he actually practiced being calm in water with Roman’s help beforehand but when the time came to actually shoot it he was still very anxious about it. Seeing the final result, it doesn’t show that he has difficulty with water, he looks calm and at peace, enjoying a late night swim by himself.

At the end of filming that day Roman gave him such good attention, the sex they had still leaves its trail inside his body now, the ashes of the sparks that went off in him squirming under his skin, trying to be revived. But everything within him died, every remnant of who he used to be disappeared, the ashes remain just that; ashes.

A string of ugly sobs spurts out of him, once again proving he can never be what he used to be. Roman would be disgusted at the sight of him, at his inability to tone down his crying and at least look attractive while he’s loosing his heart and mind. All the practice and training gone up in flames because he was stupid enough to believe a nervous breakdown meant the end of everything.

In a spurt of anger he throws the ashtray Dick passed him against the wall, leans forward to cry into his hands.

He should’ve died, he should be dead right now, none of this is supposed to be happening to him. If only he just… kept pushing himself, if only he didn’t doubt Roman, if only he had been good enough, he would’ve earned his death, not this punishment.

He forces himself to bring his eyes back to the screen, incapable of looking away more than a couple of seconds. He has to torture himself, he has to make sure he suffers enough.

His character is out of the water, dressed again and walking back to the cabin. Even his walk is beautiful, his gait enticing and playful. That kind of walk used to be effortless for him. Now he can’t even walk like a regular person, every step is a chore, a pain, he carries himself like he weighs ten times his actual weight.

In the cabin, Jace gets told by the friends that stayed what’s happening and decides to go look for Scott outside, worried for him.
While he searches for him, the two friends that tried to leave before sunup get killed further into the forest, which he later finds and causes him to hurry back to the cabin in hopes that Scott got away.
In the cabin, the others are dead too, and as he leaves, horrified, he falls face to face with Scott.

Jason watches attentively, his death scene approaching, so much yearning inside him it’s physically painful to hold back the desperate desire to try and get inside the screen so he might experience the end of the story.

Scott reveals that he’s the killer, that he wants a clean slate before moving on in his life and so he decided to get rid of people who knew him before he reinvented himself—typical horror movie shallow villain motivation—and soon the scene paralleling the beginning of the movie starts.
Jace is running through the woods in the dark, Scott chasing him, and eventually the inevitable happens; Scott catches up to him.

Jason’s breath comes up short, the envy clogging his throat. He would give everything to live through this with Roman, to have him climb over him, his simple presence making him tremble with fear, knowing there’s no way out, knowing this ends with him dead and Roman alive stained with his blood.

Jace tries to reason with Scott, when it fails he tries to talk his way out of dying, promising he’ll never say a word, but nothing can change his secret lover’s mind. He gets stabbed in the waist, cries out in pain and tries to get away. Scott lets him crawl for a few seconds, walking behind him with a sadistic smile on his face, then leans down and takes the knife out so he can stab him in the lower back.
With much more difficultly, struggling to take in a breath and warm tears streaming down his face, Jace keeps crawling, panting and moaning. Even inches away from death he looks beautiful, desirable, sexual, and when he gets kicked so he lays on his back once more, his expression of pain and horror remain just as pretty.
The final hit is in his heart, and then it cuts to his cadaver in the morning being eaten by crows—another parallel to the beginning, where at first they were flying away and now are as close as they could be.

Scott leaves the forest with a car he hid in far away bushes, and it ends with him getting the life he wanted.

Just that makes Jason ugly cry again, the idea that he could be dead and Roman could be happy torments him, and then to make it worse the credits roll and his name that he doesn’t deserve anymore appears on the screen.

Instead of rewinding this time, he’s too heartbroken to do anything else but throw himself face down into his pillows and sob hysterically against them.

That should’ve been him and Roman, that should’ve been how it ended, and it’s so painful to see himself die knowing it isn’t really himself, knowing the actor that played that character isn’t even him anymore. He shouldn’t be in a bed, he should be in a grave, or at the very least he should be home making amends and working to get his spark back since Roman believed he still had more to give.

The pillows quickly become soaked with his tears, it’s at this point a miracle he hasn’t died of dehydration. Whenever he’s been awake for the past two weeks he’s been crying or on the verge of tears, he has no lid over his emotions, no control over his reactions, he just cries and lashes out and sleeps.

Usually, one movie is enough to knock him out for a couple of hours, so since he watched two without sleeping in between, exhaustion is quick to drag him down into a light slumber where tears keep flowing.

He doesn’t really dream anymore, he just has vague images that visit him when he’s been asleep for more than an hour.

What visits him that afternoon is the same thing as always; his potential. The life he has to grieve.

No one was supposed to grieve him. He wasn’t supposed to grieve himself yet another time. Roman was supposed to kill him and move on, the rest of the world was supposed to forget about him, and he was supposed to just be at peace once and for all. The story was supposed to end. Yet it continues when he has nothing left to offer.

There is no plot. There is no point.

𖦹

He wakes up when the sky darkens, there’s no one else in the bedroom anymore.

Did Dick leave during the movie? He’s not sure. Was Dick even there in the first place? He’s too tired, too drained, too hopeless, to trust his mind. Chances are he imagined it. Without Roman around he can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t.

…. God, he misses him so much. He never spent more than a few hours apart from him in the past near decade, he never had to go through a day and especially a night that far apart from him. Now it’s been weeks. Long, torturous weeks. He misses his perfume, he misses his warmth, he misses his smile, he misses his voice, he misses every part and sight of him.

There is not a single thing he wouldn’t do or give to be back by his side. He has no idea how he’s even surviving, how being so far from his sun isn’t instantly killing him. He’s being forced to live without light, without warmth, forced to carry on when there’s no point in anything anymore.

It infuriates him that Bruce is keeping him alive, he should already have died by now if only he had been allowed to wither away like a flower kept from the sun. There would’ve at least been beauty in that, by dying he could’ve proved his loyalty, proved he cannot live without Roman. But he’s forced to keep breathing as if the air in his lungs has meaning, as if the beat of his heart has purpose.

It’s also been so long since he had sex, it feels like absolutely no part of his body is useful anymore. He’s not desirable, he’s not serviceable, he’s not worth an effort or a thought. Even if he made it back to Roman he doubts he’d be worth fucking anymore. In this state he truly is worthless.

He has no idea what Roman said to excuse his disappearance, no idea what the world thinks happened to him. Does anyone still think of him as attractive? Or is it all completely over? Do people still even remember he exists?

Maybe Roman himself forgot about him. Maybe he moved on already.

Jason wishes that for him. Even if it completely destroys him to think about it, he hopes Roman is happy without him. He hopes he didn’t cause any trouble with his breakdown.

It’s… Roman is independent and smart. There’s no way Jason could ever have an impact on that. Roman is fine and well, he moved on and is living a happy life.

He just… he wishes he was part of that life. He wishes he had been good enough to make him happy.
He knew he had a tendency to sabotage relationships, but after so many years he thought surely he wasn’t going to nuke this one. He never spent that much time with someone, and Roman forgave him for all the mistakes he made, and maybe that’s why he ruined it, because he let his guard down, assumed he was cured of his own past flaws.

He can’t call himself a stupid and useless bitch anymore because he doesn’t even qualify for that. When Roman would call him that he still had the capacity to get out of bed, to cook and to be sexual and compliant. But now? Now it’s beyond stupidity and uselessness. Now he just lays there and waits until Bruce realizes there’s no point in keeping him alive. He hasn’t been outside of this room since Roman sent the message. He’s lucky Bruce lets him watch his movies at least, lucky he gets to have one thing he wants while he waits for his unscripted end, especially since Bruce said he’d take them away if they made him feel worse—which they obviously do. He doesn’t care to know why he’s allowed to keep watching them, all that matters to him is that he can keep torturing himself with the past.

𖦹

He’s not sure know how long it’s been, but it became a routine for Dick to sit next to the bed and watch movies with him. It is more pleasant to have him here than Bruce, especially since Dick lets him smoke in bed and doesn’t bring up his ‘denial about his use of a hard drug’. They just talk about the movie they watch, Dick lets him cry hysterically without ever saying a word about it, doesn’t complain no matter how many times Jason replays the same film, and he leaves when he falls asleep.

The only movie Jason does not watch is Fox Meat. He can’t bear it, can’t bear seeing himself and Cali together like that.

“Why do we never watch that one?” Dick asks as he scrolls past it for the thousandth time.

“I… it’s a long story…”

“Why?”

Used to talking to him and answering his movie-related questions, Jason takes a quick drag of his cigarette and sighs before answering. “I just… the actor that plays the main character, he… he said he had a crush on me lately, and… and we have scenes together in that movie and I just… I can’t…”

“Oh, so it feels awkward, I get that.”

“It’s not awkward, it’s just… I thought I was safe with him. This was the first movie I made, we’ve been friends for years and then he tells me he… he tells me he has a crush on me and… and I just lost it…”

A beat of silence. “What happened after?”

“I lashed out at Roman, I… I freaked out and tried to stab him,” he admits with tears welling up in his eyes. “And then I just… I kept working for as long as I could, but… I couldn’t do it anymore. He gave me a break but even then, I just… I didn’t try hard enough, I tried to take the easy way out instead, I tried to get him to kill me, but…” He sobs softly. “He kicked me out instead…”

Another beat of silence. Longer this time. “I understand. I won’t ask about it again, then.”

He sniffles, wipes his tears before selecting a movie.

𖦹

“He opens up to me, Bruce, I really think he just needs to talk more, he wants to say what happened, he’s just scared of the consequences.”

Bruce considers Dick. “Are you telling me I should contact Harley?”

“And Barbara. From what I’ve gathered, he’s a lot more suspicious and closed off with men, he slips up when we watch movies but I think with a woman he wouldn’t need a movie to answer questions.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve spent like three hours a day with him for the past ten days and I know how to put stuff together. He doesn’t cry over actresses he’s known, he only speaks highly of them and talks about wishing the best for them, but with men it’s always something. I really think he’d feel better if he saw he wasn’t only surrounded by men. I mean, you saw how he acted towards women in parties in contrast to men, how he was with Chloe compared to male friends. And whenever we saw him he was only ever surrounded by men. And we are talking about Jason here, he always felt more comfortable around women, he already went through bad shit because of men before you took him in.”

The oldest nods thoughtfully. “Alright, I’ll… I’ll see if Harley is okay doing this. As for Barbara, can you make sure she’s up to date on everything? I’ll try to schedule everything so we don’t overwhelm him, I’m scared he’ll get worse if too many people come at once.”

“Don’t worry, I’m already telling Barbara everything. She really wants to come help.”

“Good. Alright.” Bruce pauses and looks down, bites his lip.

“B, we all feel bad. I mean… nothing we do now will make up for what we didn’t do before, but… none of us knew how serious it was. He became a legit actor, he got so good at performing and we bought the act, that was a mistake. But right now we can’t focus on guilt, we have to focus on actions.”

“You don’t understand, I… all I do is let him down. I should’ve trusted my gut, I shouldn’t have let his act get to me.”

“I know, but this is your chance to do the right thing. Don’t ruin it because you’re too busy punishing yourself.”

The oldest sighs. “You’re much better at this than I am.”

“Well, I actually listen to Alfred’s advice for one,” Dick jokes to relieve some tension.

Bruce doesn’t laugh, doesn’t smile. He doesn’t have a right to find anything funny, not when he let Jason go through hell because he was too scared to have misread the situation.

Dick bites the inside of his cheeks, takes a deep breath. “He’ll get through this, B. You’ll see.”

Chapter Text

A knock on the door.

That’s… unusual. Normally Bruce, Dick and Alfred just come in.

He stays quiet, not really understanding what’s happening.

Another knock. “Can I come in?” a familiar voice says, but he’s too tired to think, to try to put a face to it.

“Yes,” he replies instinctively.

He looks at the door open, frowns as he sees Harley come in.

“Hiya, Jaybird. I heard you were havin’ some trouble gettin’ out of bed, so I came to check up on you.” She closes the door behind her, stays near it instead of coming closer.

“… what?” This is weird. And so confusing.

“Do you mind if I sit next to the bed?” she asks, pointing her chin towards the chair.

“Go ahead,” he replies unsurely.

She smiles and nods, settles on the chair. “I’m gonna be transparent with you, okay? Bruce called me ‘cause he’s worried about you. He asked me to talk to you, try to get you to feel better.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to feel better.” He doesn’t speak angrily, though he would if Bruce was there he can’t find it in himself to get mad at her.

“I know. It’s hard to go through the stuff you’re going through, pain is familiar and comforting, it’s probably what makes you feel close to Roman still despite being apart.”

That… that is painfully accurate. It’s not comfortable at all to be told that to his face. “Can I have a cigarette, please..?” he asks, in desperate need of a buffer already.

She nods, gives him a cigarette she takes out of her pocket, lights it for him. “So that’s why I’m not gonna work on making you feel better. I’m gonna work on making you understand your situation.”

He stays quiet.

“First though, I need you to be honest with me. If you lie it’ll only hurt you, and not in a way that’ll feel righteous like your current suffering. Believe me, I know. So tell me about the past seven years. Tell me what you think your situation is.”

“I… I was a star, I was his diamond,” he recounts sorrowfully, “and I just… I messed up and he didn’t recognize me, so he left me…” His brows furrow sadly, he bites behind his lip. “And now I’m stuck here, without my ending…”

“Can you tell me more about being a star? What was that like?”

“It was— I— I dunno, it was great, it was hard, I… it was a lot of things.”

“What was great about it?”

“It made Roman so happy,” he says, smiling sadly. “He really enjoyed it, I mean… he’d get a lot less angry at me, he was calmer, he was making so much money.”

“Was he angry often before?”

He nods, looking down at his hands.

“How angry?”

“You know how men like him are, he… he’s a perfectionist and I kept messing up and causing problems, he really hated that.”

“Can you give me an example?”

“Well, I… I don’t know, it was so long ago… when I was still a vigilante, which I don’t wanna be anymore, I never would go back to that, but when I was I’d… I’d be late sometimes and he’d punish me.”

“How?”

“Y’know….” He keeps his eyes down, tilting his head to the side. “… normal stuff…”

“Normal for who?”

“For…” He frowns. “I dunno, I mean, you know him, you know how he gets…”

“I do, but I’d like to hear you say it.”

“Why..?”

“It’s important to say it. I won’t tell anyone about it, this is just between us, I promise.”

“I…” He glances at her hesitantly. “It’s not that I’m ashamed or that I think I didn’t deserve it, I don’t think it was wrong, it’s just… I know what others would say and I don’t want to hear that stuff about him.”

“That’s alright. I won’t say anything, just tell me what he’d do, I won’t attack you or him for it.”

He looks at her again, trying to read her.

She seems honest. And the words want to spill out anyway.

“He hit me,” he finally admits. “Every time I did something he didn’t like, he’d… he’d get mad and hit me.”

She nods compassionately. “How far into the relationship did he start doing that?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. At first he’d just yell at me and threaten me… I don’t remember when it started…”

“Did you ever hit him back?”

“No, never.”

“Why not?”

“I… it wasn’t a fight. And I didn’t wanna hurt him. I just… I know it goes better when I take it and wait…”

“Did you learn that with him?”

He shakes his head.

“Then who taught you that?”

“Every man I’ve ever met as a kid…”

“So he made you feel like you were a helpless kid again.”

Pinching his lips together, he looks on the side opposite of where she is in the room and takes a long drag of his cigarette. His heart is beating weird and he doesn’t like it.

She pauses for a moment. “Did he stop hitting you altogether when you became a star?”

After shaking his head, he brings his attention back to his hands.

“He did it less often, then?”

“And less severely,” he adds as he nods.

“Because he was happy about your success?”

“Yeah, he became more patient with me…”

“And how did that success happen? What was that decision process like to become a star?”

“We were talking about it for a bit, a, uh… an idea we’d been floating for a while and one day we decided to try it out. See where it’d go.”

“That’s the rehearsed answer. Can you tell me the truth?”

He chews his lower lip. “I… I shouldn’t…”

“He’s not gonna know. This is just between us.”

He looks at her again. He doesn’t feel a need to keep up walls, she feels honest, she doesn’t seem to judge him, and… and he never got to talk about this, it’s just… he needs to talk about it and he knows he can trust Harley and he just feels so empty and soft, he has no way to resist anything anymore. “He teased me with the idea. I didn’t say no. Then I woke up the next day and stuff we recorded together was made public.”

“What was your reaction when he teased you about it?”

“I…” Biting his lip, he looks back at the opposite side of the room. “I’m a— I was a private person…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, hopes she can fill in the blanks.

She seems to do that because she doesn’t ask him more about it. “Alright. And can you tell me about the hard parts of being a star?”

“I mean, I had to adapt to everything, just before I would stay at home and— and wait for Roman to come home and then out of nowhere I had a mountain of work to do everyday…”

“How long did it take you to adapt?”

“I, uh… it was a slow process, but I finally became Red after a bit over a year...”

“How was that process like?”

“Really long and hard… I wanted to be what Roman expected me to be so badly, but I… it was hard. I didn’t know how to conduct myself like he wanted, it took a while to learn, and I had so much anxiety.”

“For which you were medicated at some point, right?”

He nods. “I had a medication catered to me so the side effects didn’t get in the way of my career,” he admits shyly.

“How did that work?”

“I’d… I’d go to a clinic every night instead of going back home, and they tested trial pills on me until I passed the tests…”

“What kinds of tests?”

“Just… physical and cognitive tests…”

“So you’d stay there instead of sleeping?”

He nods.

“How many nights did it take?”

“I don’t remember, but… it wasn’t that long, I mean, I think in two weeks I had my meds… I think…”

“You must’ve been exhausted.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I didn’t think I was gonna make it.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, I… I didn’t mess up.”

“And did the medication work?”

He nods. “It really helped a lot. Without it I don’t think I would’ve made it this far…”

“And now you’re not on it anymore?”

“No.”

“Would you like to try another anxiety medication? Bruce told me he suggested that to you already and you didn’t answer.”

He shrugs. “I don’t care. If— If you want to, I guess… I don’t know…”

“You can say no, I won’t get mad.”

Looking at her, he grimaces softly. “I just… I don’t know what’s best, I— I don’t know anything and… it doesn’t matter anyway, my life is over, I just… I just have to wait it off.”

“Why do you have to wait it off?”

“I’m not supposed to be alive, I’m not supposed to still be here, I was supposed to be dead, he was supposed to kill me.”

“But that didn’t happen, and you are still here.”

He stays quiet. That isn’t something he wants to hear, much less to confront.

“I know it’s not a good feeling, I know its hard, but you have to understand it. You are still alive, you are in the same world you used to be in last month. You will die eventually, but waiting will only make it seem longer.”

“What am I supposed to do, then?” he asks without really wanting an answer. There’s nothing to be done, he doesn’t want to do the slightest effort if it isn’t for Roman.

“What about eating? Bruce can’t stick a needle in you every time you need to eat, that’s not a sustainable alternative.”

He shrugs. “I’m not hungry, and I can’t gain weight.”

“Well I’m sure you can’t lose too much weight either, right?”

… oh. She does have a point. Roman didn’t want him to be thin, and he probably is losing weight very quickly lately. “I… I dunno, I…”

“What did you use to eat on a daily basis?”

“Baby carrots, celery, applesauce, during the day…. At night, depending on the schedule, mostly bland salads.”

“Why don’t you get back on that? I’ll tell Bruce only those foods if you agree.”

“O-Okay, I… okay…”

“Good, I’ll relay him just that information then.”

He nods, staring at his hands again.

“So can you keep telling me about being a star? How did it feel like to have so many people know you like they did?”

For a moment he thinks about it, chewing behind his lip. “At some point I got used to the attention… I mean, weird comments about my appearance and stuff stopped bothering me… Roman made sure to remind me that I was a star, that’s what the piercing was for, and he’d tell me that the people who loved me were the dirt I walked on. But… it didn’t always feel like I was on top, you know what I mean..? Like… I didn’t feel— I didn’t feel….”

“In control?”

He nods subtly, unconsciously. “I was scared of them. Of my fans. And some stuff happened and it just got worse and I… it took me a while to see myself the way Roman wanted…”

“Can you tell me about the stuff that happened?”

He considers her for a moment, then shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I— I…”

“It’s alright. Can you tell me in broad strokes what happened? Just the nature of the situation? If not I totally understand.”

“It was just… someone confessed they liked me and I… I freaked out… that’s all— that’s all I can say, I’m sorry.”

“No worries. When did that happen?”

“About…” He swallows thickly. “In the first year, a few months into it…”

“Okay. I won’t ask more questions about it, but if you want to elaborate one day I’ll always be there to listen.”

He takes a long drag of his cigarette again. To talk about what happened with Mark would bring up too many things he will never be able to talk about.

“Now, full transparency, Dick told me you talked a bit about something similar, only it happened lately. He said another actor confessed to you and that’s when you, for a lack of better words, lost it.”

He… does not remember telling Dick that. Did… when would that have come up?

Fuck, he’s so confused…

“Are you alright?”

“I just…” He closes his eyes tightly, trying to recall when he would have admitted that. “I don’t… I don’t remember…”

“Oh. Well it is normal, living like this makes it hard for your brain to process things like it usually does. Eating will help, you’ll stop forgetting things like these eventually,” she reassures with a warm smile. “Don’t worry, Bruce wasn’t there when he talked about it. It was just us two.”

That does soothe him a little. Bruce weaponizes everything he can find out about all that’s happened, he would dread it if Bruce found out more details about how all of this ended.

“Would you like to talk about that again?“

“I don’t— I just don’t handle confessions well, I… I thought he was different.” Tears are quick to come up, a lump rising in his throat. “I thought I was safe with him.”

“Did he try to make physical advances on you?”

“No, but— I just… I can’t… I can’t have someone close to me say they like me like that, I can’t…” He blinks, some tears run down his cheeks. “I just… I thought I made a friend, I thought I was safe, but… everyone just wants the same thing out of me, everyone just wants to fuck me and I… I mean, not anymore, I look disgusting, I know that and now I’d give everything to go back but at that moment, when it happened, I… I couldn’t take it…”

“How did you react on the spot?”

“I left, I… I went home and I hid in bed. I was just… I understood for good that’s all I’d ever be good for, and I didn’t accept it, I didn’t want to accept it. But I do now, I want to go back, I’m better, I just— I freaked out and acted prematurely, it won’t happen again, I have to go back—“

“Jason. You can’t go back. He would’ve come for you already if he wanted you back, and I’m sure you know deep down you wouldn’t manage to get back to that life at this point. It’s okay that you’re waiting until your death, but, again, hanging on to things like that and doing nothing else than looking back on how things were will only make time pass more slowly. And eventually that suffering won’t feel right anymore, and it won’t be right either. I’m sorry, I know that’s not what was supposed to happen, but this is the reality of your current situation. You had a nervous breakdown and now you’re here. Walking backwards does not get you back in the past, it just stops you from recognizing where you are.“

“But… but what if I suffer enough and he takes me back..?”

“He sent your bodyguard here to blow his head up. That’s a pretty clear message, even without the letter that came with it.”

His brows furrow, his lips quiver.

“I’m sorry to be this blunt, but it’s important to know. No matter what you do, he’s not coming for you. You are here, on suicide watch, and you are letting your brain shut down. That’s no way to wait until you die. If you want to remember the past you have to do the minimum, which right now is to eat and drink by yourself. That’s it. That’s all you have to do. Everything else you can keep doing the way you already are doing it.”

He looks at her again, can only see her words as truth. She knows what she’s talking about and he just… he needs guidance. He doesn’t know what to do with himself and… and Bruce just insults Roman and Dick just sits quietly, so… so he can’t go against her word, even if it hurts, even if he wants to go back. Because he knows she’s right, he knows there’s no going back. He let himself go, it’s all over. All he has are memories anymore, and if he wants to hang on to them he has to do like she says.

𖦹

After talking to him some more, Harley goes to meet with Bruce, Alfred and Dick who have been waiting in the living room.

“So? What did he say?”

“That’s confidential. The only information that I can give you is that you can buy celery, baby carrots and applesauce so he can eat. And you can make him bland salads, which I’m guessing are just lettuce and vegetables, without sauce or anything else in it.”

“You have to tell me more, I can’t—“

“What matters is that he’s respected. He doesn’t want me to say anything to any of you, so I won’t.”

“But—“

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing, and there’s nothing you can do to help him but offer him a roof and get him the food I’ve just said.”

Bruce takes a second to calm himself, to do his best efforts to understand what she says. “Did you talk to him about his drug abuse?”

“About that. Just from what you said about his reaction whenever you bring it up, I can tell he knows already. You have to stop talking about it, he’s in denial and you can’t force him to come to terms with the fact that he was given a hard drug without his knowledge or consent for God knows how long. Stop bringing it up. He’ll acknowledge it when he’ll be ready.”

“Does the food mean he accepted to start eating?” Alfred asks to direct things back towards a more positive point.

“Yeah, he’ll eat. He might not do it a lot at first, and I’d recommend giving him small portions throughout the day so he has less chances of getting sick, but he’ll eat.”

“Do you think he’s gonna be fine eventually?” Dick questions hopefully.

“I don’t know. Healing is hard, and there’s no way to fully heal from what he’s been through. What I can say is that this environment is definitely not good for him, and I’d advise to move him when he becomes more stable.”

“Move him where?”

“If Babs is still open to it, I think he should move in with her. He needs a calm place that isn’t just associated with a traumatic past and that isn’t just filled with men. He’ll be much more at ease if he lives with someone who never broke his trust or boundaries.”

Bruce looks down.

“I’m not saying this to hurt, I’m just being honest. He’s in a fragile state, he won’t express himself in a way clear enough, so I’ll help him with that.” She turns to Bruce. “I know you mean well, but give him space. It’s hard for him to see you after everything, he’s much more defensive when you’re around. Don’t get him angry on purpose.” Then she turns to Dick. “You can keep hanging out with him, but be careful with what you ask him. He’s going to talk if he wants to, don’t try to trick him into admitting things.” And finally she turns to Alfred. “I know this is hard, but you’re doing good. Just keep taking care of him.” She addresses them all at once again. “If you all do that, he has more chances of getting better. Don’t force him to do anything, don’t scheme to make him say anything, he’s still processing what happened and he needs time to pick himself back up. Don’t rush him. The only goal right now is to keep him breathing, not get him to open up and come to terms with his trauma, it’s too soon for that.”

They all absorb her words, unsatisfied by the fact that they just have to wait, to be patient, wishing there was more to be done, wishing there was a way to speed up the healing process.

“How do we know when he’s more stable?” Dick asks after a moment.

“When he’ll eat regularly and manage to walk around from time to time. But do call me before. I wanna make sure you don’t do it prematurely.”

“And for now Barbara can come over to see him?”

“Yeah. I think she should’ve come sooner honestly. I get what you were trying to do, but, uh, yeah I think he has more chances of relaxing if she’s there.” She pauses. “So, again. Baby carrots, celery, applesauce, bland salads. Bring him small individual portions, at first twice a day, then add to it. He might struggle keeping the food down at first, especially since he’s very nervous, be prepared for that and make sure to reassure him if he does get sick.”

“I’ll order those foods right away,” Alfred declares.

“Good. Now call me if you need me, I’m happy to help. You know I’d do anything for that little bird.”

“Thank you,” Bruce says with a bit of difficulty, struggling the most to accept how slow this process will be. “I… I appreciate your help. And I’m sorry, I know this can’t be easy for you.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m as healed as I can be, it’s my turn to help others now.” She smiles warmly. “And, while we’re on the topic, if any of you need to talk about what’s going on, I’m here to listen. You guys need clear minds to help.”

“I, uh,” Dick steps forward shyly, “can I take you up on that offer?”

“Of course. Do you wanna talk right now or do you want to meet up someplace else another time?”

“If it’s not too much, I’d like to talk right now. We can… we can go in the garden.”

“Alright. Good on you for speaking up. Your dad could learn a thing or two from you,” she jokes lightly, glancing at Bruce. “Come on, let’s go.”

Soon, Harley and Dick are sitting outside in the blooming garden, the sun hidden behind clouds.

“So what did you wanna talk about?”

“I just…” He pinches his lips together, takes a deep breath. “I feel bad. I mean, we all fell for his act eventually, at some point he really did look happy and none of us knew what he was going through, we thought… sure it was unorthodox but you should’ve heard what he said to Bruce, how he acted around us, he really… we all fell for it.”

She nods, listening attentively.

“We’ve all trained to tell when people are lying and we still couldn’t tell with him. What if he doesn’t get better, what if he just lies about it and then when we trust him to stay safe again he goes back and gets killed? What happened to him is already on us, I can’t— I can’t lose him a second time, I… I can’t. And… and he doesn’t see me as his brother anymore, he doesn’t care about family, he just cares about Roman who drugged and— and put him through hell, he… he acts like we’re the enemies and I do get it, we are technically kidnapping him, but… I mean, I also get how Stockholm syndrome and abusive relationships work, I know he’s been with Roman for a whole decade so of course he’s attached to him and can’t see how bad it really was, but… it just— it hurts. It really hurts. And I feel bad because this isn’t about me, but…” He sighs. “I can’t shut down my feelings and I feel so selfish, I just wanna help him but the guilt, it… it’s killing me.”

She doesn’t talk when he pauses, lets him vent.

“I just can’t believe we let him rot for all those years, let him go through all of that…. Since Bruce walked away when Jay first came back to Gotham I’ve been scared to seek him out, I was scared to go see him and do the same mistakes Bruce did, I didn’t want him to hate me, so I just… I stayed away and I didn’t dare assume too seriously about his relationship with Roman when I learned about it ‘cause I just didn’t wanna mess something up and make him resent me for it. I was mean to him when we were kids, I was distant and cold and I thought he was weird for trying to spend so much time with me, and I did try, I did warm up to him eventually, I mean, who couldn’t? He was well meaning and nice and had so much potential, and we bonded over circus stuff, but I… I spent so much time avoiding him and maybe if I had been nicer, maybe if I had been there more often none of this would’ve happened. It’s all my fault, if I was home more often I could’ve kept him company when Bruce benched him, I could’ve saved him when he died, I could’ve stopped him from going through everything that happened since.”

“That’s a lot of responsibilities.”

“It’s my job, isn’t it? Why can I save strangers but not my own brother? Why did I believe him, why did I think he was fine? Was I just… was it just because I wanted him to be happy and well so badly I lied to myself too? And now he hates me and he’ll never be happy again and he’ll just… he’ll spend the rest of his life wishing he could go back to a man that wants him dead.”

“Maybe you’re not very close, but he doesn’t hate you. He would not be watching his movies with you if he wanted you out of the room. He doesn’t do it with Bruce, he even ignores Bruce completely when he’s watching a movie, but he talks with you. That’s a good sign, it means there’s still something to salvage, that means you’re a person he’s willing to open up to.”

He stares at her, torn, hopeful. “Do you really think so..?”

“It’s gonna be messy, but you’re definitely not in the same category as Bruce.”

“He really does hate Bruce, then..?”

“I think it’s more complicated than that, I think it’ll take a while before things settle down at the very least between them. But Jason is guarded with Bruce in a way he’s not guarded with you. Maybe one day you’ll be able to talk about all of this to him and I sincerely doubt he hates or resents you for the way you were when you were both younger.”

He takes a moment to think about it. “But I still… I still feel bad. I still should’ve done more, just because he didn’t expect me to be better doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have been better.”

“I understand. But you can be better now. Just be there for him and let him talk when he wants to, he hasn’t had that in ten years, probably more, and he’s letting you give him that.”

He nods pensively, looking at a flower in front of him.

They keep talking for a while before Dick has enough to reflect and think about without just focusing on his guilt.
Days like these are difficult, but Harley just undid a lot of knots. She’ll be back, she’ll help Bruce and Alfred too, and she looks forward to coming back to see how Jason is doing. He’s the reason she broke free of Joker, the least she can do is help him break free of the same kind of man.

But for today, her work is done, and now they just have to wait.

Chapter Text

Since Harley’s visit, Jason is a lot more mellow. He eats what Alfred brings him, which gives him a smidge of energy, enough to stay awake a bit longer. He’s used to running on empty, so the slightest bit of food can fuel him quite a lot.

The first time Barbara comes over, they just sit in silence, him in bed and her in her wheelchair next to it. Beyond greeting him she doesn’t say anything more, only keeps him company while he watches outside the window. He doesn’t put on a movie, doesn’t cry, doesn’t get uncomfortable.

He always loved Barbara, always enjoyed her presence. She was nice to him when he was a kid, she brought him cookies and hyped him up when he became Robin. And now, she’s calm and peaceful, doesn’t press him, doesn’t ask questions. They’re simply existing in the same room together.

The second time she comes, they eat together.

“That’s the best applesauce I ate in my entire life,” she says softly.

He nods with disinterest. “It’s only natural sugar, none of that processed shit in it.”

“Cool. I’ll have to buy more for myself.”

That’s all they exchange that day.

She leaves with a smile and a wave, he returns the wave lazily and watches her leave before getting comfortable under the blankets.

It feels wrong, to be here, to let himself be approached by people from his past, to stay in bed so much. Normally he would be at work, socializing or discussing contracts or acting or posing, or at the very least be in bed with Roman.
He doesn’t know what to think about his situation, since Roman doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore he has no idea what he’d say if he saw him like this. Is this okay? Is this good? Is he suffering enough? Is he supposed to lose what made him a star? He doesn’t have the strength to hang on, he can’t be who he used to be and he doesn’t want to if it isn’t for Roman.

He wishes he could see him, ask him what he’s supposed to do, what his directions are. Is he actually allowed to eat? To be civil with others? Or is he supposed to fight and make everything more difficult even if he’s just so sick of saying no only to be ignored anyway? It’s not like they’d leave him alone if he asked, like they’d let him refuse to eat or speak. He’s going to be forced to do what they want no matter what, and he doesn’t have any fight left in him. It’s not worth it to protect himself, not when he’s not Roman’s property anymore. Now he’s just a banged up blow up doll past its expiration date.

He cries softly into the pillows, holding one tightly against his chest.

No matter how many people come into this room, they can never rid him of his loneliness. He misses Roman like a person would miss their lungs, a part of him is not there anymore, the source of warmth, of hope, of love, so far away, so inaccessible, it leaves him gasping for air constantly yet never puts him out of his misery.
He keeps rolling in bed expecting to see him, keeps waking up because he can’t stay asleep without his head over his chest, keeps asking about his schedule as he wakes up only to realize he’s either alone or it’s not Roman in the room with him. Food has no taste, daylight has no real light or warmth, his entire being craves the physical touch he so severely dreaded at the end. To go untouched for so long is what makes him rot, to endure the lack of proximity with his lover is what syphons all of his energy. If he could just get one kiss, one caress, he could make it through a few more days without crumbling. He would remember what it’s like to be alive. But Roman won’t ever touch him again. They’ll probably never even see each other again. It’s all over.

𖦹

It’s getting to a point where he misses waking up before the sunrise to go to the spa before a photoshoot. Though that craving did end up allowing him to go take a shower for the first time in God knows how long.

He forced himself to get undressed even if he didn’t want to, and when he started to panic he masturbated instead of seeking comfort, which did feel so familiar it actually calmed him down.
Now he’s back in bed, in clean clothes and with clean hair, appeased by the moment he imagined having with Roman in the shower. Because of it he manages to sleep without waking up for longer than usual, though the waking up is a bit violent as he dreamt he was back home and didn’t expect to be in Wayne Manor when he opened his eyes.

Bruce comes in as he’s sobbing uncontrollably into a pillow, puts a plastic bag with a handful of baby carrots in it on the nightstand and leaves without saying a word.

Soon after—or at least it feels like soon after—Barbara comes in.

“Hey. Would you like some company?”

He doesn’t answer, keeps his back turned on her and his face against his pillow.

“If you want to be alone, just say so. I won’t be mad. Otherwise I’m gonna stay by your side, okay?”

He stays quiet. He won’t fall for something like this, even if she doesn’t get mad now she’ll bring it back up during an argument later, so it’s best to simply try to calm down and stay composed while she’s there.

It isn’t fun to have an audience while he’s losing his shit, especially since Roman never wanted him to cry like this except for when they were alone at home, he’s just breaking rules that he lived by for years, even if those rules don’t apply, even if there is no structure or directive in his life anymore. Not only that but it’s humiliating too, he’s tarnishing Roman’s reputation by being such a mess, everyone here already thought badly of him but now it’s worse, now they blame him for Jason’s state as if it wasn’t Jason’s fault. Roman isn’t at fault, he never is, Jason is the one to have failed, to have let the objectification get to him and to have allowed himself to have this horrific downfall. Roman is the one that kept trying when Jason gave up, not the other way around, but everyone here acts like Roman was the one in the wrong and the one that betrayed and hurt Jason.

“Is he doing okay?” he asks in between sniffles and sobs, still with his back turned on her. It’s been a while since he wanted to ask, he just never dared to before now.

“What do you mean?”

“Is he happy? Are you all leaving him be?”

“Well, I… I don’t know about his happiness, but yes we are leaving him be.”

He finally turns around to look her in the eyes. “Do you promise..?”

She frowns, bites her lip. “… sure, yes, I promise.”

“Thank you,” he breathes out, rolling back to his initial position.

They keep silent for a while, until Jason calms and his stomach growls. “Can I eat..?” he asks by habit since he’s not being handed the food.

“Yeah, of course.”

So he rolls back and grabs the baby carrots and just holds the plastic bag for a minute to be sure he’s allowed to eat them.

He takes his time, eats in tiny bites while staring at the wall in front of him. Normally after eating he’d have something else to do, he’s still expecting to be reminded of his schedule while he chews, but nothing. All he has to do is keep waiting, keep suffering.

“Your room is really empty,” Barbara starts after a few more minutes of silence. “You want me to bring you something next time? Books, plants, or like some working out stuff?”

“I’m fine,” he answers shyly. “I don’t need anything more.”

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem, it can’t be good to stay in here with only a tv.”

“I— I don’t— I… if you want, I…” He grimaces anxiously, chews at his lower lip while fidgeting with the plastic bag. “You don’t need to bother yourself…”

“You’re allowed to say no, Jason. It‘s no bother and I do want to help you, but you can tell me no, I won’t get mad.”

“I’m not… I’m sorry,” he blurts out by habit. He doesn’t like this, he doesn’t like that she’s offering something, that she says she wants to help him, it’s not her job to make his ‘life’ better, he doesn’t want to be a burden, he doesn’t want to be hard to manage.
He can give a hard time to Bruce because he’s the one that kidnapped him, but everyone else is… they are accomplices but… it’s different, they’re not insulting Roman or confronting him about his so called drug use, they’re not… they’re not cruel like Bruce. They just sit by him while he loses his mind, like Roman used to do. There’s familiarity in that, in having someone stay composed and silent while he breaks apart, and even if Bruce does the same it doesn’t feel as calm and trivial, it instead feels humiliating—like his tears are proving something false, a wrong opinion of Roman, of himself, of the goodbyes he made and is now forced to renounce. Bruce is keeping him in a life he isn’t meant to have, forcing him to give Roman a bad name by ruining all of his work in mere weeks.

“It’s okay, I didn’t mean to stress you out.” She offers him a warm, reassuring smile. “I’ll bring you some basic stuff ‘cause it’ll be no problem or effort, but I won’t make a big thing out of it.”

Afraid of digging himself into a hole, he just nods compliantly while keeping his head down.

Once again she leaves while he sleeps, which happens a little while later as the anxiety has him tossing and turning for a bit and since the energy he got from eating fed his restlessness.

When he wakes up in the evening, he soon is joined by Dick who hands him a bag of celery and settles on the chair next to the bed.

As Jason takes the bag he notices chalk on Dick’s clothes. It brings out a strange feeling in him, one that he fails at burying.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, did the mistake to put my chalk away after showering so now my clean clothes are stained too,” Dick explains since Jason is staring very obviously. “The fun part about staying here is honestly easy access to a trapeze, I don’t know how I’ll do when I get back to Blüdhaven, I’ll have to get used to the walk to the training centre all over again.”

The feeling expands, doesn’t only exist in his chest anymore. Instead it reaches through every part of him, down to all of his extremities.
He pinches his lips together, his brows furrowing.
Something inside of him is still alive and he doesn’t like it.

“You okay? Should I— I’m sorry, is that not a subject you wanted to hear about? I know you did hoop as a kid, I remember that, your hoop is still in the gym by the way, and— wait, sorry, no, I… sorry, I probably shouldn’t be saying this, my bad.” Dick ends with an apologetic grimace, worried he mentioned something that’s about to destroy the relative peacefulness Harley was able to create since she came.

Jason remembers that vividly. Visiting a school he was allowed in after hours because a teacher took pity on him, hanging out with the theatre kids who practiced in the evening for their plays and meeting a girl that did aerials who showed him some, but never being able to pursue it because he didn’t have the strength or resources for it. Or at least he thought, because then he got adopted by Bruce Wayne and received a hoop as a gift, which got installed in the same gymnasium Dick’s flying trapeze was in and he was finally able to eat enough to feed his muscles and then get in the air comfortably…
That’s actually what made him bond with Dick who was initially very distant with him when they first met.

Now he thinks back on it and a life he thought he had buried years ago comes back as if it was never gone, and it makes him feel sick with disgust that he should think fondly of a past he did not share with Roman.

It was on purpose, that he forgot how much he enjoyed being in the air, especially since he always believed he lost his wings when he died.
The place Roman gave him in the sky, as a star next to the sun, was enough to keep an old passion buried, he didn’t need wings, he didn’t need anything but to believe in his lover and the plan he had for him. But now that that’s gone, now that he has fallen again, he…

He wishes he was still truly alive so he might try flying again. In reality he’ll never deserve it and he doesn’t want to, he’s worthless and no effort should be made, he should not try to find a way to alleviate his pain when all he should do is suffer.

It’s a longing he’ll have to kill again, a longing he’s currently doing his best to smother already before it gets out of hand. Dick cannot revive something like that in him, he cannot let himself be distracted from his suffering. He owes Roman everything, he cannot betray him further by reconnecting with an element from a past he swore he was done with.

Therefore he pries his gaze off Dick’s chalk stained shirt and forces himself to put on a movie without saying anything.

He never put on a movie that fast, that thoughtlessly, all that he cares about is to remind himself of his one life that mattered, the only life he should think about.

Dick doesn’t dare ask a single thing as they watch, paralyzed, worried he messed things up by mentioning aerials and Jason’s childhood, stays quiet and waits until it’s over and Jason falls asleep to run to Bruce to tell him they have to ask Harley to come back just in case he caused something really bad since she’s the only one that can seriously help.

𖦹

After the tormented night and morning Jason had, he struggles remembering who would be knocking on his door instead of just coming in. He shyly invites whoever it is in when the voice asks for permission, only remembers her last visit when he sees Harley.

“Were you sleeping?“

He shakes his head.

“Okay, good, I didn’t wanna interrupt.” She smiles. “Can I sit down on the chair?”

He nods shyly. “You don’t have to ask…”

“I know, but I prefer asking anyway,” she replies as she sits down. “So how have you been?”

“I… I’m fine, I’m… I’m fine.”

“Have you been resting well?”

“I mean… I haven’t rested well since I’ve been here…”

“Right, wrong question. How has your rest been lately?”

“I don’t know, I’m… I think the effects of stopping my medication are less intense now…”

“So you’ve been less nauseous, right?”

He nods. “And I don’t shiver as much…” He chews at the skin behind his lip. “… can I have a cigarette, please?”

“Sure.” She hands him one and an ashtray, lights it for him. “That’s great news, by the way. You must have more energy too now, then.”

“Yeah, but it just makes sleeping harder…”

“That’s fine. You can always find an activity to do to tire you out. The more you stay in bed awake the more it’ll be hard to sleep.”

“I don’t want to do an activity, I don’t— I don’t deserve it.”

“Then do something you don’t want to do.”

He frowns, considers her.

“You don’t like walking, so why not do that? You won’t enjoy it, therefore you won’t break your suffering streak, and you’ll get to toss and turn less in bed. Vary your pain a little.”

He can’t… he can’t really argue with that.

The thought of varying his suffering does bring an image to mind; the blisters and bruises he’d get from doing hoop. Eventually he did form callouses on his hands and his body got used to the metal bar, but at first he’d get dark and painful bruises from it and his hands would tear open after a training session. He hasn’t done it in so long he’d have to go through that pain again, not only that but the soreness would be familiar and the discomfort of the bruises too, it might—

He crushes that thought. How selfish is he to find loopholes so he might get back to something he used to love when he doesn’t deserve the slightest bit of happiness.

“Where did your mind just go?”

He looks back at Harley. “Nowhere, I— I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay. You just looked very bothered for a moment, if you want to talk about it that’s what I’m here for.”

After hesitantly glancing from his hands to her a few times, the words spill out despite his barriers. “Dick came by yesterday with chalk on his clothes and he talked about trapeze and my… a hoop I used before…”

She stays quiet, lets him continue.

“I just… I don’t want to remember that. I don’t want to remember something other than Roman…”

“Because you miss it?”

A grimace of guilt draws itself on his face.

“But if nothing matters and everything is worthless now, why would it change something whether you try it again or not? Nothing counts in purgatory.”

“It’s not— it wouldn’t be fair to him, I left that life behind, I don’t want to go back to it, I don’t… I don’t want to betray him even more…”

“To be completely honest with you, even if it might hurt to hear, I do not think he cares anymore. The note did say to do what you will with your life, didn’t it? He won’t care whether you have fun or not, your suffering and joy don’t mean anything to him anymore.”

“But what if that changes..?” he asks hopefully, with tears welling up in his eyes. “What if I suffer enough and he takes me back..?”

“Do you think you’ll be able to go back to the life you had with him?”

“I— maybe, if he… I mean, I didn’t think I could do it at first and I did it anyway, he makes me strong and better, he…” Not at the end, he didn’t. “I… I mean, I fucked up eventually, but maybe… maybe things will be different, maybe I just need to purge the bad and when I’ll have suffered enough I’ll go back to being good…”

“That’s not how people work, Jason.”

“But I’m not a person, I’m a— I was a star, I just need to get fixed, I just need to scrub myself clean and then I’ll be as good as new.”

“I don’t think you really believe that. I think you know deep down that your star days are over, and I know it’s hard to accept, you have to grieve it, I get that, but you are a human being and you are here because Roman did not want to bother himself anymore. If he really wanted you back he wouldn’t have sent you that note.”

There’s nothing he can find to say to that. He knows she’s right, he knows there’s no way back home. Roman does not want him back and there’s no way he’d even know what Jason is doing, so nothing really truly matters. But he still can’t bring himself to be okay with the simple longing for something Roman didn’t show him. Whether Roman knows or not, he himself will know and he can’t bear doing that to him. So he has to crush that longing once more despite having nothing to distract him this time, now aware that his hoop is still here, that he’s in the same place as it is, that he could just go to it whenever he wants.

“What you do now is your own choice. And believe me I know it’s hard, but you’ll learn eventually.”

“….. what’s the point?”

“Do you really want Bruce to decide everything for you now? What you eat, where you go, what you do? Roman isn’t there to choose for you anymore, if you don’t want someone else to take over you have to do it yourself.”

Oh. That’s…. He doesn’t like that at all. He doesn’t want Bruce to make the choices Roman used to make for him. That is betraying Roman in a way, letting another man choose such things for him.

“Bruce would be glad to let you make certain choices, like what you eat in a day. He doesn’t wanna control you, he just wanna help, so you shouldn’t be scared to ask for stuff. Y’know, he lets you keep the tv because he doesn’t have the heart to take it from you even if he knows it’s not helping.”

He can’t help but doubt that, though he doesn’t want to argue with her. She is still making a point, and maybe he should at least try to decide what he eats so Bruce doesn’t, since he himself knows his diet better than anyone here and he doesn’t want Bruce to take over as the authoritative figure in his life. That way he can still belong to Roman in a sense, keep obeying him through the knowledge he has of him and what he wanted from him. If they were still together, Roman would want him to stay in control as they stayed apart, so… so he can act like Roman still cares, he can act like there’s still a point in doing an effort, in protecting himself and defying others’ rules.

“So why don’t we go down to the kitchen and grab you a snack, on your own terms?”

“… okay.” Roman would rather he feed himself than he let Bruce ‘take care’ of him, and he is reassured by having Harley’s company. He doesn’t feel at ease in here, he would in fact much rather be accompanied by someone like her than go alone especially for the first time. She knows what it’s like to be hurt by others, surely she won’t let Bruce hurt him—not that it’s her responsibility and he is the only one that should be impacted by such things, but… it’s just more reassuring to be with her, that’s all.

It isn’t as hard to get up and walk anymore but he still hugs the wall as he gets out of his room, Harley matching his pace without making him feel like he’s dragging behind or like she’s following him.

“If you’re up to it, we can go outside to eat too,” she suggests when they’re in the elevator.

“Bruce isn’t gonna let me,” Jason replies anxiously.

“Of course he will. If you’re with me he won’t try to stop you.”

“But— But what if he grabs me? What if he locks me up?”

“I promise you he won’t,” she assures as they leave the elevator. “We’re just gonna go sit in the garden and eat, there’s no reason he’d try to keep you in here.”

“I dunno, I…”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do it today if it makes you anxious. We’re already going to the kitchen, no need to add more to it.”

“Okay,” he sighs in relief. “Thank you. Sorry,” he adds by nervous habit.

“We should try it someday though. I’ll have a talk with Bruce to make sure he knows not to constrain you too much. But you do have to remember you’re on suicide watch, you won’t be left alone if you roam around, but you will be given space as long as you don’t try anything.“

Right… they don’t want him to kill himself. Which he’d understand if it was for the mess, but… he’d do it well, he’d do it in the bathtub of an unused bathroom and he’d slit his wrists or stab himself, so there would be almost nothing to clean up. It’s still a hassle and he’d still feel bad, but it’s the best he could do. If killing himself mattered, but at this point he just… he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have the energy to steal a knife, hide to a bathroom and put an end to his ‘life’. It’s too much effort.

They make it to the kitchen and despite being too lazy to kill himself his eyes immediately dart toward the knives.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard… maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so much effort…

“Do you want to make a salad? I think there’s everything you need here,” Harley starts, looking in the fridge. “Yup, should be good. If you want, of course.”

He hasn’t been in a kitchen in a while. His eyes move from the knives to the counter, to the oven, to the island, to the fridge, to the cupboards, to the pantry.

What has Roman been eating lately, he wonders. He’d love to cook him something again, to show he’s not completely useless, like he did years ago. Waiting for him to come home, spending all day preparing him an elaborate dinner…
Now he’s just going to make a bland salad for himself.

It feels wrong to grab things and set them up. Those are not his things, this is not his home. But Harley encourages and helps him and he doesn’t want to be mean, doesn’t want to give up just because he’s tired and not in the mood. It does make him uncomfortable, to be helped in the kitchen especially when he’s making something for himself, it’s hard to stay quiet about it. He doesn’t want to be mean, he doesn’t know how to interpret what’s going on, he doesn’t know anything anymore.

She cuts up the ingredients for him, he doesn’t insist, doesn’t try to grab a knife. He takes care of assembling everything and soon he has a bowl of lettuce, bell peppers, cucumbers and shredded carrots.

“Do you want to eat here or in your bedroom?”

He freezes. Has no idea what to answer. What’s the right thing to say? Does he actually have a preference? He was just planning on following her, not— not choosing himself where to eat. Normally he eats in the dining room but he doesn’t know if that’s the right thing here.

She stays quiet, doesn’t make the decision for him even if he’s not saying anything. She’s just waiting for him to answer.

“I don’t— I don’t know,” he chokes out. “I’m sorry, I don’t know…”

“It’s okay. What’re you in the mood for?”

“Nothing, I… I have no idea…”

“Then just say one randomly,” she tells him with a nice comforting smile.

“The… is…” He stammers for a second, his heart racing. “Is the… is the dining room okay..?”

“Yeah of course. Let’s go, then!”

Okay, that— that didn’t go badly. Things are fine, he didn’t say the wrong thing. He’s not in trouble.

He takes a breath, walks with her to the dining room.

It’s not very comfortable—again, this isn’t his home—but it’s the normal place to eat at and Roman doesn’t like him eating in bed, so… he’s here now. For once he’s doing something correctly.

… he thinks. Hopes.

Harley keeps him company while he eats. She talks about random stuff he struggles focusing on, she doesn’t ask him personal questions, doesn’t bring up anything private. She keeps the conversation light and doesn’t try to get him to talk too, which he’s thankful for. She’s simply filling the silence until he’s done, then accompanies him to the bedroom again.

She keeps him company for a while, and it is comforting, like when Barbara is here. When he ends up falling asleep it’s a lot more relaxed than when Bruce, Dick or Alfred are there, he gives in to the exhaustion with much less struggle.

Chapter Text

Standing at his door, Jason does not dare open it. He’s still in his bedroom, it’s the middle of the night and he just dreamt about his hoop. He wants to go, but he’s afraid of leaving his room and he’s torn since he doesn’t want to betray Roman. Therefore he just stands there, staring at the knob in the darkness, his tired legs struggling to hold him up.

Technically the hoop would hurt, and he wouldn’t enjoy it because surely he wouldn’t manage to do the simplest of things anymore. So it would be a way to vary his suffering. And maybe if he had ever told Roman, Roman would’ve had him keep doing it. It’s beautiful and graceful, and a talent not everyone has, a way to show him off and put him under the spotlight even more.

Does he deserve that spotlight? Not anymore. That’s not the point, though. The point is that maybe Roman wouldn’t be opposed to him doing hoop. Or at least wouldn’t have been opposed to it before. It’s too late now, he shouldn’t do anything that might be beautiful anymore, he doesn’t have the worth to sustain it.

But… he misses performing. He really does. He misses acting, and doing an aerial number is similar in a way. It’s putting on a show. And Roman doesn’t care what he does anymore, does he? He wouldn’t have left him passed out in an alley in a city filled with people who know him and desire him if he still cared. So he could do it. Technically he could do it.

Still, he can’t. Won’t. Loyalty is all he has left, even if it’s for someone who doesn’t care about him anymore.

He’s trying to beat that longing Dick revived in him to death, yet he’s incapable of walking back to bed. He can’t convince himself to go back to sleep. He’ll either just have another nightmare or he’ll dream about hoop anyway, there’s no point in trying to sleep. His legs hurt, the exhaustion is uncomfortable, but it’s a way to suffer.

For hours he stays in place, staring at the door. It lasts so long morning comes and Alfred walks in, almost bumps into him because he didn’t expect him to be there.

“Are you alright?”

Broken from his trance, the exhaustion that’s been accumulating hits him like a truck. He crumbles and blacks out for a moment, opens his eyes with a pained grunt and a difficulty breathing, back in bed.

Alfred is listening to his heartbeat with a stethoscope, he stays still, concentrating on not suffocating.

“What happened?” the butler asks once he’s done with the stethoscope. “Why were you standing there? How long have you been standing there? Are you alright? How do you feel?”

“Sorry,” he whines by habit, closing his eyes again. “I’m tired, I’m just… I’ll get ready soon, please just gimme a minute, I’ll be fine, I won’t… I won’t fuck up…”

“You don’t have to get ready for anything, you can stay in bed.”

Oh..? It’s a rest day, then. Cool. It’s good it happened today of all days then. It’s not too bad either, his heart flutters like that sometimes and struggling to breathe in is even more common, he stopped worrying about it a while ago, so he’ll be fine to go back to work tomorrow. Plus, being in this state will earn him a special cigarette, which he’s pretty sure he hasn’t had in a while, so really this is perfect.

Fuck, he can’t wait to have his special cigarette. It’s gonna be amazing, he’ll feel so much better once he gets it and he’ll have mind blowing sex with Roman for the first time in so long, he’s so fucking excited. That’s all for tomorrow, though, for today he just has to sleep enough to do….

What is his schedule of tomorrow?

… it doesn’t really matter. Roman will remind him in the morning and he’ll just have to get dressed with the clothes laid out for him and then he’ll go wherever he’s taken.

He hopes it’s a movie. Roman did get him a role in a horror movie, right? He hopes it’ll be more fun than the last one he made. Last time there was an actor that was a bit too excited of his being on set, kept asking weird intrusive questions. It was annoying, made the ambience while working a lot less pleasant than it could’ve been. But that’s okay. It’s over now and he’ll get to try again, meet new people, make Roman proud.

𖦹

“Jason, please stop,” Bruce begs anxiously, not wanting to physically hold him back but afraid of letting his rage go unrestrained.

Jason ignores him, smashes the lamp on the floor. “Let me go back! Just let me go back!”

Bruce is lucky he was there when Jason woke up, since Jason forgot about his downfall and still believed to be with Roman, now possessed by a fit of grief turned into rage.

“I wanna go back, let him kill me!”

The oldest has no choice but to grab him when Jason reaches for a piece of the broken lightbulb, holding his wrists down as the youngest thrashes and cries.

Alfred is out doing the groceries, Barbara is stuck in traffic and Dick is training, Bruce is the only one right now that can be here and try to calm him down.

Jason tires himself out quickly, eventually melts and sobs, leaning against Bruce because he simply does not have the strength to hold himself up. “Why don’t you just let me die,” he cries tiredly. “I can’t do this, please just let me die…”

The lump in Bruce’s throat stops him from speaking, he’s frozen by his own fear and grief, wishing this was easier, wishing there was something he could do to fix this.

As Batman he’s been going after Roman a lot more, but there’s nothing he can really do except inconvenience him. Roman knows how to cover his tracks and he pays all the right people to keep his place in the city, even Batman cannot find ways to have him be thrown in jail for good for all he’s done.
It’s things like these that make his belief in Justice waver, situations where someone he loves loses everything to someone who will never pay the price. Can he really change something? The worse already happened, the aftermath cannot be stopped or avoided. Roman has made millions by abusing and exploiting Jason, the public thinks Red Diamond has been kidnapped and killed by rabid fans, and Jason is stuck here unwilling to pick the pieces of himself off the floor.
How many times is his son going to be taken from him? How many times will he have to let the villain go free because there’s nothing to be done? Bringing Jason into the light, using him as a witness to incarcerate Roman for his crimes would be impossible and simply unsurvivable for the youngest. He needs peace and tranquility, and made Barbara promise that they’d leave his abuser alone. They have to focus on the victim and not the perpetrator, and not just for a day or two. For maybe their entire lives. And that’s hard for Bruce. Dick and Barbara seem to accept that much more easily than he does. His fists ache to seek Justice, he knows he might lose control if he were to ever be face to face with Roman ever again. Clark stopped him from killing Joker. This time he might not be there to stop him from killing Roman. And then what? Jason would never forgive him, it might only make him ‘love’ Roman even more.

He looks at Jason now as he lowers him to the floor so he might rest a little. He looks so small, so frail, shivering and sobbing against him because he has no strength to push him away.

How many times has he looked like this because of Roman? And now he’s putting him through the same despair. Having him helpless and unable to push himself away when he so very clearly wants to. It doesn’t matter that he’s doing this to save him, to stop him from killing himself with a piece of broken lamp, Jason will still see him as the villain and Roman as the hero.

“Jason,” he tries softly, forcing the words past the lump. “I’m sorry.” That’s all he manages to say. Many more words live in his chest but they won’t come up. They can’t. Jason doesn’t need to hear about his guilt and he clearly couldn’t care less about his love; dread and a sense of defeat silence him. It’s useless to try and speak to him, Jason won’t listen. Why would he? After all that’s happened, he can’t blame the boy for seeing no value in his words.

Like Harley said, all he can do is keep giving him a safe place to live in while he gets better, better enough to move out because this place isn’t good for him.

Therefore, he simply waits while Jason cries until someone else arrives so he can let go and clean this place up while Jason is kept busy.

It takes a while, and every second serves to worsen his guilt. Jason keeps begging for death in between sniffles, keeps crying, doesn’t fight the hold on his wrists. Bruce feels like his son’s jailer. Like he’s no better than Sionis because he’s ignoring his wants. Logic ceases to exist, the fact that he’s doing this for his own good doesn’t matter. It simply seems that he’s bound to feel like the villain whenever he’s with Jason. There’s no getting around it.

Finally, after an interminable amount of time, someone comes in.

“Oh god, is everything okay? What happened?” Barbara asks as she opens the door.

Bruce sighs in relief. “Can you take him somewhere else? Be careful, he’s not— he’s not doing well.”

She puts down a bag of stuff she brought over and comes closer. “Sure, yeah.”

Jason looks up at her, stares as she hands out her hand.

“We can just go sit in the corridor if you want,” she tells him softly.

Bruce lets go of his wrists, he doesn’t grab Barbara’s hand but he does follow her outside without a word.

In he corridor he just sits in a little ball and cries into his arms, angry he’s too tired to keep trying to kill himself, despaired by the realization that he’ll never see Roman again.

In the bedroom, Bruce stays kneeling for a moment, breathing in and out despite his painfully tight chest while he stares at the ground.
He can’t stay still for long, he has to clean up quickly so Jason will have access to his bedroom again, but he needs this little moment before. He needs to simply gather himself in silence for a second. To think. To give his guilt the time to seep into every inch of himself. Then he can start cleaning up.

Since he’s thorough it does take a little while, but Jason doesn’t give Barbara any trouble for the whole time it takes. He stays still, head buried in his arms, not even looking around him once.

“You can come back in but I’ll have to install a new lamp,” Bruce declares when he’s done.

“Would you like to go back in bed?” Barbara asks Jason. “It’s probably more comfortable than the floor, right?”

Seeing it as a direction, Jason sighs softly and pushes himself off the floor, wipes his tears and gets back in bed. He’s empty now, he feels completely hollow, all he can think of doing is what others tell him to do.

While Bruce goes to fetch what he needs and starts to install a lamp on the wall—one Jason won’t be able to take off and smash on the ground—Barbara shows the youngest what she brought him.

“I brought you a new edition of Frankenstein, I’m pretty sure you didn’t have that one already. And I also brought a Jane Austen collection and a Virginia Wolfe collection.”

He looks at her blankly, looks at what she takes out of the bag.

“I also brought you some colouring stuff and crayons, I know it seems juvenile but it did help me after my surgery so I thought maybe it’d help you pass the time too.”

Unless he’s told to, he’s never going to use that. There’s no point in it, and he’s not recovering from being shot in the spine, he doesn’t need to pass the time as he recovers, he doesn’t want to disrespect her like that by comparing their misery.

“I also found where your cheetah is, if you want I can add the broadcast of her enclosure to the tv so you can watch it.” She reaches into the bag. “And I also got you a plush.”

He looks at it with tears coming up.

He does miss Sarah. A lot. He never said goodbye to her, he didn’t manage to visit her for his last weeks as a star because he just didn’t have the energy to do anything.

Even if he’s embarrassed, he grabs the plushie and stares at it fondly. She was that small too once, though much softer. She used to love being held and cuddled with, even as she grew she still liked him to hold her—which he could only do sitting eventually because he didn’t have the strength to carry her for more than a minute.

“She is doing well, I talked with the people that are taking care of her and she’s in good health, I thought that might be nice for you to hear.”

He bites his lip, keeps his eyes fixed on the plushie. “Are they socializing her..?”

“Yeah, they said she’s almost always with someone.” She doesn’t bring up the fact that they told her she is very lonely and not that active compared to others of her age, wanting to avoid causing him to feel guilty or worried. She is fine and healthy, she just clearly cared for Jason a lot and is not handling the separation with ease.

He nods, glad. “Can I look at her now, please?”

“Sure, it’ll just take me a few minutes to set it up.”

As Bruce and now Barbara too accommodate Jason’s room a little bit more, Dick is still downstairs in the gymnasium, training.

He stopped doing trapeze after Jason died, only tried again a few years later because he was haunted by the need to fly. But even if Jason was back, trapeze was different, and he never managed to get back into it like he used to. Now it’s particularly hard, and he spends most of his time simply standing on the platform, staring at the net below. When he does swing, he cannot do anything complicated or advanced. His heart isn’t in it, and the more he fails the more he gets frustrated, which makes it even harder to perform. That doesn’t stop him from spending most of his days here, trapeze has been his go-to when he needed to clear his mind when he was a kid and it’s still an instinct, and with all that’s happening lately he really needs to clear his mind.

Harley told him to try, to keep trying, to reconnect with himself so he doesn’t lose track of who he is because he’s too busy trying to help Jason. It’s hard, it makes him feel selfish, but he’s pushing himself because he doesn’t want to disappoint her.

So he grabs the trapeze and swings again, freezes once he’s inverted.

What now?

What’s the point?

He loses his momentum quickly, keeps hanging by the back of his knees and sighs.

He has no inspiration, out of all he knows nothing speaks to him anymore.

Is Jason okay? Is he lonely right now, does he want to have some company? Is Dick being a horrible person for training in here instead of being by his side?

At least he hasn’t been here in too long. He’s been here since eight and now it’s—

He looks at the clock for the first time in a while.

—it’s two in the afternoon?

Wait no, the clock must be broken. There’s no way he’s been here for so long.

He lets himself fall in the net, then gets down and runs to grab his phone.

“Shit.”

His heart begins to race, he starts to imagine the worst case scenarios possible.

What if no one else visited Jason today yet and Jason found something to harm himself with? What if he’s dead because he wasn’t looking after him? What if his little brother has horribly injured himself just because he was left alone for too long?

The fear carries him to Jason’s bedroom, where he comes in panting and red with panic, causing Barbara, Bruce and Jason to look at him and frown.

“Dick? Are you okay?” Barbara asks first.

“I—“ he pants, looking at everyone, the rush persisting and making it hard to calm down immediately despite seeing his little brother is safe. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to barge in.” He notices Jason is staring at him, but not to make eye contact. Looking down, he realizes he’s still wearing his grips and gaiters, and that his clothes are stained with chalk. “I’m sorry, I’ll come back later.”

Even when he’s gone Jason keeps staring towards the doorframe, fists tight and jaw clenched.

Bruce and Barbara share a worried and hesitant glance, unsure if they should let him stay fixated or not. He is finally calm, has stopped crying for a bit, they don’t want to set him off again. Is it really better to leave him alone, though? Maybe let him spiral and have another outburst?

After another agreeing glance, Barbara gently tries to grab Jason’s attention back. “I’m almost done, now.”

He ignores her. She and Bruce share yet another glance.

“Is there something wrong?” The fact that they don’t understand why he’s acting like this worries them more, outbursts are harder to deal with and avoid in the future when they don’t know what caused one.

“Do you think he hates me?” Jason croaks, lured by Barbara’s sweet tone and barely aware he’s speaking out loud.

Neither answers, not certain if he’s speaking about Dick or Roman.

He falls silent again, himself not certain of who he’s talking about.
Does Roman hate him? If so, is it really so bad of him to want something he wasn’t shown by him?
Does Dick hate him? Is that why he’s tormenting him with something he shouldn’t want?

He shouldn’t be yearning. He shouldn’t be wanting anything at all. He said things he didn’t mean to Roman when he was angry before, maybe Roman didn’t really mean that he doesn’t care anymore, maybe he just said it without thinking.

Though… days had passed and he wrote it down and sent Micheal… that wasn’t very impulsive. Not only that but Roman isn’t impulsive in general. Every action, every word, every little thing is always calculated. Even when they had disagreements, even when angry, Roman was always in control. If he lost control Jason would’ve been dead within the first year of their relationship.

Roman does not care about him anymore. That whole speech he did years ago has lost its meaning. Jason is not a star, he lost all potential, Roman cannot care for something with no worth. It’s not his fault, Jason understands and knew from the start he’d eventually lose it all. He just thought his life would be amongst the things lost, not only the figurative sense of it. But even then, surely his suffering still has worth, right? To be tormented like he is would amuse Roman if he was witnessing the scene, wouldn’t it? Or is even his pain irrelevant with no beauty?

Phrased like that, it does…

Roman is incapable of caring for ugly things. Jason is not only worthless but ugly too. His suffering cannot save him. Nothing can.

He bursts into tears again, despair quick to grab him and suffocate him. This time though, there is no anger, he doesn’t have a tremor in his hand urging him to drag something sharp down his wrists. There is only the crushing shame of his own body and face, of the loss of everything that made him who he’s been those past years.

Quickly, he covers his face with his hands and does his best to hide under the blankets, so very aware of his own disgusting rotten flesh all of a sudden. He has no idea why anyone is capable of looking at him, being in the same room as him, why anyone could put up with him like they do when he has absolutely nothing to offer.
When he was beautiful, people would pay to see him cry and suffer, but now? Now people would pay to never have to see him again. If he was to be abandoned in an alley again he would have nothing to fear, he would be left alone and untouched until he could finally die.

This is tiring, to break down so often, like years of held back tears finally catch up to him, like all the sorrows he swallowed are forced back out, his barriers falling apart without Roman there to hold them for him.

Years of training and experience, all gone because the sun doesn’t shine on him anymore. The character of Red Diamond mauled beyond recognition over one nervous breakdown. All of it gone in a flash. He cannot maintain the appearance of who he was for even a minute, how pathetic is that? Without Roman he’s nothing, without the sun he can’t shine in the slightest. He’s just collapsing onto himself like a dying star—which is exactly what he is now, except he never might get to actually die.

Barbara keeps him company until he calms down, but Bruce leaves the second he’s done installing the light just to go stand in the batcave and stare at the case he’s been trying to build on Sionis.

“Is he asleep?” Dick asks shyly when he comes back, peeking his head in the room.

“I don’t know,” Barbara answers, looking over the youngest’s covered body.

Dick bites his lip, takes a few breaths. “Do you think he’ll be fine if I take over? If he’s just asleep I can keep an eye on him, you can go grab a bite, get some water.”

“Are you sure? You seem shaken today, it’s okay if you go rest, I can stay here, I really don’t mind.”

“I, uh… maybe you’re right, maybe it’s not a good idea. I don’t think he’ll want to see me…”

“He can stay,” Jason croaks at Barbara.

She leans forward, frowning, struggling to hear him when he has so many blankets over his head. “What?”

“He can stay,” the youngest repeats a bit more loudly.

Barbara looks at Dick, the two of them surprised.
Slowly, giving his brother the time to change his mind, Dick steps forward until he reaches the chair. “Are you sure?”

“Mhmh…”

“Alright, then,” he breathes out hesitantly, sitting down.

A long and heavy silence takes place. Jason’s pain weighs the air around him, the situation itself crushingly dreadful. Hope is scarce, guilt takes too much space to let any other emotion prevail. Days don’t feel like days, time feels like wait. The room is empty and full at the same time, the familiarity of grief mixes badly with the abnormal presence of what they’re grieving. Usually the absence takes the space, but in this case the presence causes the absence. Their little brother, hurt and brainwashed, a dead sense of self but a living body, exuding nothing but pain for which they are all responsible.
If only they hadn’t believed him, if only they weren’t scared of making the same mistakes Bruce did, if only they had seen beyond their own selfish want for something to be simple, if only they had trusted their gut. But Jason was a good liar and kept rejecting them, kept acting like they were strangers, and when his career blossomed into something even greater it was simply… it was easier to believe that maybe Jason had found his calling. He surely wasn’t going to be happy with them, maybe he really was happy with someone else no matter how strange it seemed to them. In the end he wasn’t, he needed help, needed a family, and they all failed to reach a hand out in time. Not that they didn’t try, he just simply refused to reach back, to let himself be pulled out. That’s not his fault, though, he was being manipulated, abused, it was up to them to grab him anyway and take him someplace safe where he could’ve started healing sooner.

Is it too late now? Is it all lost? Have they failed to save those closest to them yet again? Is that a price they’ll have to keep paying?

“How does it feel like..?” Jason breaks the silence with a hoarse question, staying still under the covers.

“What do you mean?” Dick asks back, feeling like he’s the one addressed.

“Flying. Does it feel good..?”

“I… I don’t really feel like I’m flying lately…”

“… why..?”

“I’m just… I don’t feel light enough.” Should he actually be honest? Is this bad? But he doesn’t want to lie to his brother. He doesn’t want to dismiss him. “But Harley encourages me to do it so I keep trying.”

“Why? What’s the point?”

“I miss it. I want to fly again, so… if others believe in me, I owe it to myself to not give up.”

A beat of silence. “… would you still do it if no one wanted you to..?”

“Yeah. I’ve only ever stopped in the past because I couldn’t keep going, but… I’d never let someone else do that choice for me.”

Another beat of silence. “… what if the sun itself didn’t want you to do it..?”

Dick frowns, puzzled by the question. “I mean… how would I even know that?”

Jason falls completely silent.

Would Roman hate him doing hoop again? Does the sun care about things it doesn’t touch? The sun has better things to do than to fixate on one fallen star.

He’s being selfish again, isn’t he? Putting words in Roman’s mouth like that, assuming things about him when he actually doesn’t know anything. He’s just a stupid blow up doll, he doesn’t have the brain others have, he’s only good for pleasing others and now he’s not even capable of doing that, so what the hell does he know? Only that Roman would be angry at him for being so stupid again. For not having learned his lesson.

Stupid, stupid bitch that he is. Beyond useless, beyond stupid. There’s no words for what he is now. Just… an empty headed selfish and rotten toy.

No matter what he does though, it’ll be selfish. Either he stops himself because of words he’s forcing in Roman’s mouth, or he gives in because he has no control over himself without his sun.

“I’m tired,” he lets out. “I want to sleep now, please…”

“Alright, sure, we’ll let you sleep,” Barbara replies softly.

Soon Jason is left alone in his room, once Dick and Barbara make sure there’s no remnants of broken lamp or screws or anything else that could be used by the youngest to hurt himself.

Alone, Jason tosses and turns, exhausted yet wide awake.

Even if he was to get back in the air, hoop requires grace and beauty. He doesn’t have that anymore.

But maybe… maybe he could get it back, right? At least he could try…

He pushes himself up, walks to the bathroom.

He looks tired, morose, colourless. But he doesn’t have wrinkles, his skin is a bit rough though. Still, hopefully it’s nothing a few products can’t fix, right?

After taking his clothes off, he stares at his body from every angle possible.

The weight loss he suffered is a lot more dramatic than he thought it was. He doesn’t have defined abs anymore, his ribs show more than his chest, his arms don’t look clean cut, his thighs don’t have the curves they used to.

He spends a while just staring at himself, analyzing every flaw and thinking of ways to get better.

Maybe he’ll never manage to be as pretty as he used to be, but he can still improve on what he looks like now. He just has to take it seriously, he has to stop destroying Roman’s work to have made him look the way he did.

He’s going to stop rotting. He’s going to stop spending all of his time in bed. He cannot let himself become ugly on top of everything else.

This whole wallowing phase ends now.

Chapter Text

It lasts three days. He burns out quickly, spends the next in bed, too exhausted to stand. What’s even the point? He’s not going to get back to how he used to be, he has no lover or audience to please, and he’s never doing hoop again. What was he even thinking, trying to be pretty, to ease his suffering? He deserves to rot, that’s the whole point of this.

𖦹

Once he’s done washing himself thoroughly and doing his whole night routine, he waits until it’s past eleven to sneak out of his room.

He makes his way to the gymnasium, keeps looking over his shoulder.

Once inside, he just stands in front of his hoop, stares at it.

It’s small, Bruce bought it when he was a kid so it’s definitely not something he could fit comfortably into now as an adult. Good thing he’s not trying to get in, simply fantasizing about it.

He stays there until the exhaustion has him feeling faint, sneaks back to his room and falls asleep the second he gets in bed.

𖦹

“Does fake blood stain a lot?” Dick asks as they rewatch one of Red’s movies.

Too busy crying uncontrollably, Jason just shrugs and keeps staring at the screen.

𖦹

He doesn’t talk to Harley about the hoop when she comes visit. He doesn’t talk about it with anyone.
No one mentions his more intense fluctuating moods, how he’ll spend one day trying to work out and maintain his routine and the next rotting in bed. One day he begs Bruce to force him into a routine because he can’t do it himself and the next he screams at him for having simply walked in his room. He goes from having tea with Alfred to threatening to kill himself if they don’t let him go back to Roman in a matter of minutes. The only people he’s relatively stable around are Barbara and Harley.

𖦹

Barbara and Dick keep him company while he watches the feed from Sarah’s enclosure.

He misses her so much, how soft and warm she was, how she’d get spurts of energy out of nowhere and start running around like crazy for a few minutes.
She doesn’t seem to be doing that anymore, she seems very mellow now, but Barbara told him she’s being tested for allergies because of a minor reaction to something in her food, which is why she seems more tired.

Her new enclose is very nice, and she is indeed almost always accompanied by someone, though she’s not as cuddly as he remembers her to be.
He hopes she’ll feel better soon and get back to her old self, it makes him sad to see she hasn’t fully settled in her new life yet.

“Why Sarah?” Dick asks him after a moment.

“I named her after Sarah Bernhardt. The actress,” Jason answers softly. “She had a cheetah too.”

“She’s the first actress that went international, right?”

He nods. “She reinvented acting as we know it. She was, and still is, the greatest star.”

“She had more than just a cheetah, didn’t she? Like turtles and an alligator and a lot of dogs?” Barbara asks.

“Yeah, she loved animals. She was a vegetarian too, after they were forced to eat the zoo animals during the war.”

“Isn’t there a book you really like that was written based on her? Like as a play for her?”

“La Dame Aux Camélias, yeah. Alexandre Dumas fils wrote it for her, but she didn’t get to play Marguerite when it first went on stage. It’s one of the greatest love stories ever written.”

Remembering the story is about a prostitute who dies and that Sarah Bernhardt herself was an unwilling prostitute turned actress, Barbara and Dick both hesitate to keep talking about it. They read it years ago because Jason gushed about it a lot, they thought he was too young to read such a thing but they couldn’t deny that it was in fact a very good book.

Jason too doesn’t talk about it more, steering clear from such stories, avoiding romances especially those that end in tragedy because his heart simply cannot bear it. He would give anything to have lived such a story with Roman instead of this messy and ugly false end, and he tries not to think about it as much as he can.

Feeling the need for a subject change, Barbara mentions that she’s hungry and they have snacks so why not eat a little, which works and has Jason focus on something else before he can spiral about his ruined romance.

𖦹

Today Bruce has asked Harley if she could analyze and mediate his daily visit to see Jason so she can tell him what he does wrong and how he can be better at interacting with his son. Jason never yells or snaps at anyone like he does with him, he doesn’t want to cause Jason to be so angry all the time and the anger starts to really get to him.

When the youngest sees the two of them come in his room, he frowns, confused, then assumes he’s in trouble. Why would Harley bring Bruce if not to have him be reprimanded for something? Maybe she told him something and now he’s angry at him.

Would she do that? Would she hurt him like that? No, definitely not. But… why is he in trouble then?

“I’m sorry,” he lets out to get ahead of the punishment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’ll stop, I’ll be better.”

“Watcha talking about?”

“I— I don’t know, I’m just— I’m sorry…” There’s a million things he could’ve done or said that might result in punishment, literally not one thing he has done since he’s been here would’ve been left uncorrected by Roman.

“Do you think you’re in trouble?”

He looks at Harley, teary eyed, and nods.

“Oh, no, no, you’re not in any trouble, I promise. Everythin’s fine, I just couldn’t come at any other time today so we’re both here this morning.”

He looks at her, then at Bruce, attentive to any signs that he might still be in danger.

“I’m just here to do the same thing I do every day,” Bruce assures weakly. “I’m not going to do anything else.”

Still, Jason keeps staring at him, sitting and curled up against the headboard, mostly fixed on the oldest’s hands so he can anticipate a hit.
Since Bruce is the only one that doesn’t let him smoke in bed, he doesn’t ask for anything, keeps watching him in silence as he places a plastic container of assorted vegetables on the nightstand, then goes to draw the curtains.

The sight of the sun in the morning has Jason sob as usual, the shallow mockery of his lover’s warmth flooding his room and his emotions.

“I’m sorry but you need sunlight,” Bruce reminds him as non-confrontationally as he can.

“That’s not sunlight,” Jason cries out. “Get it out, please just get it out, I don’t want it..!”

Bruce looks over at Harley for guidance, brows furrowed and lips pinched in a pained grimace.

“If that’s not sunlight, what is?” she asks softly.

“I wanna go back home…”

“I’m sorry but you can’t.”

Because he’s incapable of getting angry at her, he turns to Bruce and throws a pillow at him. “It’s your fault, you took me away from him!”

“I found you in an alley, I didn’t take you from him,” the oldest defends himself sadly. “If I hadn’t found you, someone worse might have, you could’ve… you could’ve been…” He stops there. Every day he thinks about what could’ve happened if he hadn’t found Jason, if a malevolent person found him instead.

“I could’ve been saved by someone instead of kidnapped,” Jason finishes for him. “They would’ve taken me back home.”

“Jason, I don’t think that’s what would’ve happened…”

He squints angrily, glaring at Bruce. “Even then, whatever they would’ve done to me would be better than spending a minute with you,” he says just to insult him, which seems to work because Bruce clenches his jaw and looks away. “I’d rather be stuck with rabid fans who try to recreate my films and—“

“I think he gets it,” Harley interrupts. “Bruce if you’re done here, could you give me and Jay a moment?”

With reddened eyes, Bruce nods and walks out, not saying another word.

Harley closes the door and sits on the chair. “Are you like this with him every morning?”

He shrugs.

“Why does he make you so angry?”

“He acts like he owns me, like he knows better than me,” he answers coldly.

“I don’t think that’s how he acts at all. I think he’s just clumsy with the way he cares about you.”

“He doesn’t care about me.”

“You just made him cry, Jason, I think that’s a pretty good indicator that he cares.”

“I didn’t make him cry, he’s just trying to manipulate me.”

“Trying to manipulate you for what?”

“So he can make me his good little toy soldier again.”

“Is that really what you think?”

“What else would he want from me? What else am I good for but to obey and serve? I’m not gonna make this easy for him, I’m not gonna just roll over and let myself be used like that.”

“That’s not true, Jaybird. Bruce loves you, he still sees you as his son. He just wants you to be happy and rediscover who you are beyond your past stardom. Believe me, he talked to me about it and I can tell when people lie to me. He doesn’t want you to be a soldier, he wants you to be a person.”

After thinking about it for a second, Jason replies: “then he’s more stupid than I thought. I’m not a person and I never will be.”

“I know right now it’s hard to think beyond what you desperately want to be real, but I gotta tell you, things are gonna change whether you like it or not. They already have, and they’re gonna keep changing forever. The way you’re feeling right now won’t last forever. I know because I used to be the same. So trust me, don’t close all the doors. You’re lucky Bruce is willing to stick around no matter what, not everyone does that.”

He stays quiet. That isn’t something he wants to hear at all, especially from her. If Dick said it, if Bruce or Alfred said it, he’d just dismiss it as a lie. But coming from Harley? There’s a weight in those words that wouldn’t be there otherwise.
He doesn’t want to be where she’s been either, he doesn’t think it’s anything like that and it pains him that it’s the way she sees it. She actually suffered, she overcame abuse, he just… he just fucked up his own life by not being good enough, it’s nothing similar. He knows what his relationship with Roman can look like to some people, but… that isn’t what it is—was. He deserved to be hit, and he needed the guidance and directions. How he is now only proves that; he doesn’t know what to do with himself if he’s not being given orders, if he’s not being constantly corrected.

“I’m gonna let you think about that for a bit, okay?” She gets up, smiles softly at him. “Don’t just dismiss your thoughts and feelings. They’re there for a reason.”

Two parts of himself fight as he’s left alone, frozen in place by his inner turmoil.

It’s going to be a hard day, but it’s important that he goes through it and that he’s given time to think without others around, which is why Harley leaves now.
Who does need someone to talk to right now is Bruce, especially since she finally understood something.

“Is he alright?” Bruce asks the second he sees her come in the living room, his eyes still red, elbows against his knees.

“I’d keep a close eye on him today, but yes he should be fine.” She sits down on the couch in front of him.

“So… what did I do wrong? What can I do to make it better next time..?”

“Honestly? You’re doing it right, you just have to keep taking the hits and stay calm around him.”

“But— then why..? Does he just hate me? Is there nothing I can do?”

“I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to understand, not to get defensive. Can you do that?”

He nods, not without frowning, anticipating something bad, afraid of letting his emotions get the better of him.

“You and Roman have certain similarities. You’re both the same age, you’re rich, and Jason has given his life to the both of you. There was a time where he saw your word as law, same as he did with Roman. He lost himself in his devotion to you, for example he used to love school but if you had told him to drop it he would have. He’s loyal to a fault. But you hurt him in a way he couldn’t forgive because he wasn’t the only one hurt. That gave him an excuse to hate you. Roman hasn’t done that. He’s still loyal. But he’s also angry and hurt, he just can’t accept that those feelings are towards Roman, so he takes them out on you. He hates you because you allowed him to, he cannot let himself hate Roman because he didn’t allow him to do the same with him. There will be a time where he realizes that and he’ll stop misdirecting his current anger at you, but for now you’re the only person he can blame besides himself. He needs that, he needs an enemy. I’m sorry he chose you, I’m sorry you have to see your son turn against you again, but until he understands that Roman is the villain, he’ll keep being hostile towards you. I know it’s a lot to ask and there’s nothing that will make this easier, but if you want him to stop seeing you as a threat you have to stay passive and take the hits without ever snapping back. He’ll get it one day and he’ll regret it, but that change cannot be forced. It’s a rough pass, probably the hardest one, but it won’t last forever. I can promise you that. I was the same, remember? I blamed you for everything for a while too and look at us now.” She offers a comforting smile.

Bruce does not manage to say a word. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything but defensive arguments simply because he cannot come to terms with that yet. That Jason sees him as a version of Roman he can hate. That they’re in the same category of men in his mind.

“Y’know, it might help when he’ll move with Barbara, he’ll realize he’s still angry without you around,” she adds after a thoughtful moment.

He looks at her with the most desolate expression.

“I know it’s hard, Bruce, I am sorry for the way things are going, but the anger is good. Every emotion has benefits and this one will probably be very important for his healing. Y’know, after what Joker did to Babs I was just terrified of him, I didn’t know what to do, I was scared of gettin’ out of line, of him doing the same to me, but then he killed Jason and that’s when the anger took over and allowed me to leave. Anger has a purpose for him too, like it did for you and everyone else. It’s the part of you that realizes an injustice and that no one deserves to be treated like that, it’s the part that makes you act. It would be more concerning if he wasn’t angry at all.”

Bruce bites the inside of his cheeks, looks back down at his hands.
He knows he deserves it, that Jason has a right to hate him, that the anger isn’t completely misdirected, that some of it is definitely rightful. But to have his anger towards Roman be directed at him too because in Jason’s mind they’re similar, that’s just… it hurts. There’s no pretty way to say it, it simply hurts, it doesn’t feel like he’ll ever get over that pain, the way his heart tightens and twists in his ribcage, how something seems to prickle it; it feels permanent.

𖦹

Harley and Dick are talking while doing gymnastics in the training area when they hear screaming. The two of them rush out, follow the sounds and soon find Jason held down by Alfred in the kitchen, a knife on the floor and a shattered mug next to it.

Harley hurries to help Alfred, holds Jason instead of him, while Dick does his best to grab the knife and put it in the sink so it’s further away from Jason.

“We were just making tea like usual,” Alfred explains in his panic, short of breath. “I turned around for a second, I’m— I’m sorry, I—“

Harley notices the blood. It’s not a lot, from what she can see Jason barely managed to graze himself before he was stopped. “It’s fine, everyone leave please, I got this.

At that moment Bruce comes in running too, Dick and Alfred have to convince him to leave while Harley focuses entirely on Jason.

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” she tells the youngest. “You just gotta take a breath, can you do that for me? Just breathe in and out.”

He keeps sobbing, begging to be let back home. “I can’t do this anymore, please, I can’t..!”

“That’s okay, we’ll figure it out. For now I just need you to breathe in and out.”

It takes him a few tries, his lungs ache and struggle taking in air, he keeps sniffling and his racing heart urges him to keep hyperventilating. But Harley stays patient and he keeps trying because he’s too distraught to disobey, and eventually he manages to breathe again.

“There you go,” she encourages, tentatively loosening her grip. “Now we’re gonna go to the bathroom.”
Since he’s in no shape to walk, she grabs him and carries him bridal style to the closest bathroom.

She sits him on the counter, grabs a first aid kit from the cabinet while he just sobs softly and sniffles, so exhausted he can’t do anything but follow whatever happens like a good little doll.

While she disinfects and bandages him up she only says gentle praises and encouragements, doesn’t try to ask him what happened yet. He managed to calm down, she won’t stress him out again on purpose.

She also dries his tears with a small towel, takes a few deep breaths with him to make sure he keeps focusing on that, holds his hands very gently and lightly to share some warmth and proximity that doesn’t restrain or hurt.

“Do you want to go sleep?” she asks when she notices he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.

He nods weakly.

“Alright, let’s get you in bed then. Do you want to walk or not?”

He shrugs lazily. “We’re gonna go back home now, right..?”

“No, we’re staying here. But that’s okay, everything’s good here too. You’re gonna be just fine,” she assures, grabbing him again and carrying him out of the bathroom. “You can count on me, birdie.”

He doesn’t protest like he would if it was anyone else carrying him back to bed. He trusts her, and so he doesn’t fight. If she says he’s good here too, then it can’t be as bad as he thought. He was just being dramatic like usual, that’s all.

By the time they make it to his bedroom he is fast asleep, she tucks him carefully and stays by his side to make sure he’s alright.

He talks in his sleep, which is why no one stays with him when he’s not awake; they can’t bear hearing the things he says. It’s mostly pleads addressed to Roman, declarations of love, asking to be brought back, saying how much he’s missed him, complaining about his schedule, and other similar things. Sometimes it takes a darker turn—as it does right now—where he starts pleading to not be touched, to “please stop, it hurts” while he tosses around under the covers.

“It’s okay, Jason,” she tries to soothe. “You’re safe.”

But he keeps mumbling desperate pleads, at some point cries out hoarsely before going back to pleading even more brokenly.

She resorts to grabbing his hand—gently—which does calm him down after a few seconds.
Every time she touches him she is very careful, she knows what it’s like to be touch starved and terrified of contact at the same time, and even then Joker was never physically affectionate with her, whereas Jason was constantly with Roman and they were practically always touching each other. He needs contact, after ten years of it he is appeased by it, but only in the right moments. The most important is that the touch is never possessive, which can’t always be the case as seen earlier when he had to be held down so he wouldn’t kill himself, but for his own well being they have to disregard his fear so he’ll at least keep breathing. When it’s to calm him down, the contact needs to be caring, soft, calm, and not from just anyone. She doubts he’ll be okay with men touching him anytime soon, no matter who it is. She has been doing some exercises with him and Barbara so they get used to each other as to facilitate their eventual living together, she hasn’t started doing the same with Dick yet because she doesn’t want to push too much. It is a plan though, maybe when he’ll have moved out so he’s in a more stable environment, but for now it’s still too soon, too raw.

𖦹

Since Jason seems to be at his peak of how well he can be here, Harley decides it’s time to take the steps to move him to Barbara’s place. She’s there right now and with her to go over the entire apartment, installing locks on every cabinet, making sure nothing sharp is easily accessible and that he can’t access rooms in which there are computers and other things he could use to contact Roman.

It ends up being three days of work, they’re thorough and test absolutely everything.
Since it’s in the Clock Tower, there’s quite a lot of space, so Jason will still have his own room, and there’s a gymnasium too in which they’ve installed a hoop because everyone knows Jason sometimes visits it in the manor—there’s security cameras all over the place and Harley convinced Bruce to never intervene unless Jason actually tries something, which he never has in those nights—this one is new, freshly taped and the right size for an adult. The Oracle room is locked down, the living room clear of technology beyond a tv like that in Jason’s current room, there are no phones or computers lying around for the exception of a cellphone with no SIM card and no access to any apps beyond one for music so he can process certain feelings with a crutch.

When everything is ready, they end up testing everything for one more day with Dick’s help, just to be sure.

After that, Harley goes to Jason to ask him. She knows he’ll say yes and he’ll be glad to move, but she wants to make sure he knows they actually care whether he says yes or no.

“Move..?” he echoes with disbelief.

“Mhmh! It’ll just be you and Babs. I’ll still come just as often of course, and if you want, everyone else can come visit too from time to time.”

“Is Bruce…. Does Bruce know..?”

“Yes, he’s okay with it. He won’t try to keep you here.”

“And I can— I can go today?”

“Or you can sleep on it, it’s your choice.”

“I— I’m…” He’s scared of making the wrong choice. Surely she wouldn’t set him up like this, right? But he doesn’t… he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. What if it makes Bruce angry? What if Bruce forbids him from moving elsewhere because he chose the wrong answer? Bruce has already stolen him away, locking him down, forcing him to become someone he’s not…. He wants to get out now, but he’s scared of saying that. He’s scared it’s a trap. “I don’t wanna get in trouble…”

“You won’t. If you want to leave now we can. Do you want to leave now?”

He looks at her anxiously, does the smallest nod while pinching his lips together.

“Okay, great, let’s leave today, then,” she replies enthusiastically. “How are your energy levels right now?”

“I dunno, I’m… it’s like usual, I guess…”

She nods. “Well all you need to do is take what you want, the rest I’ll take care of, and get in the car. It’s as easy as that.”

“No one— no one’s gonna stop me..?”

“Nope. Everyone’s okay with it, you have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

As they get ready he needs constant reassurance, flinches and steps back when he sees Bruce in the corridor. But the oldest doesn’t grab him or scream at him, instead he lets him go without a word, only a nod, and soon Jason is about to go outside, holding only his Sarah plushie and water bottle.

Stepping outside is overwhelming, if he hadn’t done it as an exercise with Harley a few times before he would’ve crumbled immediately.

By habit, he waits at the car for the door to be opened for him, looking at the vehicle with not exactly disdain but certainly a visible discomfort.

He hasn’t been in a car that doesn’t look like it belongs in a museum or show in ten years, this looks nothing like the limousine or vintage cars he’s been taking during his whole relationship with Roman.

Assuming he’s too tired to pull open the door, Harley does it for him once she finishes loading the bags in the trunk.

Barbara is already set up at the wheel, since it takes a certain prep time to get there and they didn’t want to make Jason wait. Her car is a Wayne Enterprise car designed to be driven without legs, so she can keep her full independence despite her disability.

“Come on in,” she encourages since Jason just stares at the seats.

This… this is weird. Strange. It’s not the kind of car he’s used to, and Roman isn’t with him. When’s the last time he’s been in a car without Roman? Or without it being the purpose to go to Roman?

“I— I don’t think I can do this, I… I’m sorry, I just— I don’t think I can,” he lets out very weakly, his voice shaking. Roman hated it when he said that, but he can’t help it.

“Why not?” Harley asks him.

“I just… I dunno, I don’t… I can’t get in this car, I can’t… it’s not the right car, it’s not…”

“What’s not right about it?”

“…. It’s not Roman’s car…”

“But it’s Babs’ car. We like Babs, don’t we? We’re safe with her.”

He nods hesitantly.

“Come on, I’ll get in with you, it’s gonna be okay.” She holds out her hand, he stares at it for a moment before grabbing it.

They get in, him first, and immediately the entire air feels weird, light in a nauseating way, too bright and almost tingly.

“We have to let go for just a second so we can put on the seatbelts,” Harley tells him.

He frowns, turns to her.

He hasn’t worn a seatbelt in years, he hasn’t… he doesn’t want to be tied down in a car that isn’t even Roman’s, he doesn’t want to be stuck in here and he doesn’t want to let go of Harley, he…

“I can’t do this,” he cries. “I can’t do it, I wanna go back home, please…”

“It’s okay, no seatbelts, then, it’s alright. It won’t be too long a ride, once we’re there it’ll all be better.” The important part is that he is in the car, it’s unwise to push or force him. This is already a big step, and being in the backseat of the safest car known to man with Barbara driving won’t be that much of a risk without seatbelts.

“Are we good to go?” Barbara asks just to make sure.

“Yep.”

And so the car starts, and just the sound of the engine has him grimace and sob harder.

Despite the fear and discomfort about going back into the city, he can’t stop himself from looking outside the window. He has to see it, see if it’s still the same.

He looks at every billboard they pass by once they leave Wayne Manor, worried he’s going to see something about his downfall, about how ugly and unwanted he’s become, but so far nothing. Not a single thing about him.

The world has moved on already it seems.

…. He has no idea how to feel about it.

But then they pass by another billboard and he gasps—there are still things about him out there. It’s a perfume ad, he remembers the day they shot it, he remembers he had a really bad headache because Roman hit him, and after it they had a lunch with his business associates.

It has him even more confused, feeling even more torn.
On one hand he’s happy, the world doesn’t see him as he is now, they still see him as who he used to be and clearly Roman still makes money off his work, but… there’s something else inside him, something…. It just brings out his exhaustion about all of it, reminds him why he was so disgusted by touch at one point. The way he lays down in the ad, looking into the camera seductively yet innocently, what he’s wearing, what… what people think about when they see it…

His skin feels rotten. Dirty.

Without a thought he takes his hand out of Harley’s, scared of staining her. Then he realizes he just withdrew from touch, which he isn’t allowed to do. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I—“

“It’s alright, I’m not angry. I’m glad you took it away if that what you wanted, there’s no reason to be scared.”

He curls up on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible.

None of this is right, it’s all fucked, he’s fucked, he can’t believe the world kept going and yet stayed the same, he can’t believe he’s still here in the same city as the ghost he used to be again.

For the rest of the ride he stays like this, so entrapped in his own pain he doesn’t realize the car has stopped until Harley opens his door.

“We’re here,” she declares softly. “Take your time if you want, there’s no rush.”

He looks up, sniffles. They’re in a spacious garage now, he recognizes it. He hasn’t been here often, but the lack of familiarity appeases him. There’s not overflowing memories like at Wayne Manor, only faint images of a few that are easy to swat away.

He gets out of the car, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

“Are you okay doing a little tour?”

He swallows, sniffles again then nods.

“Okay great, Babs will show you around while I put your stuff away.”

It’s already so different than when he was brought to Wayne Manor, he’s much calmer than he was in the car as he starts to follow Barbara.

“Now for your own safety there are a lot of locked doors, I’ll tell you right now which you can open and which you can’t so it doesn’t take you by surprise,” Barbara explains as they make it to the elevator. “For starters, this ground floor won’t be accessible. You’ll have access to the gym which is right above, and the top floor, but the garage and unused floors will be locked.”

Being made aware of it does have him panic less, and that he isn’t held here by a man has him avoid a complete breakdown.

They stop at the gym, he freezes when he sees a hoop.

“You can use anything you want in here, if you decide to use the lyra there is a knot that stops you from pulling it higher than a few feet for your own safety. Please keep the mat under too, and there’s a picture showing how to do the knot at the point if you forgot. As for the other things, there’s no heavy weights, nothing too intense, but we can add more eventually. If you want to train I would prefer you tell me but I don’t mind you coming here alone. And just so you know, there are security cameras everywhere except the bedrooms and bathroom.”

They get back in the elevator, his heart is beating fast and hard, his hands sweaty.

Next up is the penthouse, where the apartment is. The ride is a bit long, the Clock Tower is tall and the gymnasium isn’t right under the living quarters, but she gives him a cigarette and reassures him for the time they spend in the elevator since he’s nervous and being in a metal box doesn’t help.

The apartment is more colourful than he remembers it, it’s humble and clean, not the luxury he’s used to by now just because the furniture doesn’t scream ‘billionaire house’ and instead ‘cozy home’.

“There are locks on every cabinet in the kitchen, if you want to cook or make something you have to ask me first so I can make sure you stay safe. The door to my Oracle room is always locked, if I’m in there and you need something just knock and I’ll answer. My bedroom is never locked, whenever you need something you can come ask me, the living room is always open too. The tv is like at the manor, you can only play movies and broadcasts that have been downloaded, nothing else. The bathroom is there, you have a whole shelf just for you with your products, towels, toothbrush and hairbrush, don’t be shy to grab whatever you want from there, it’s all yours.” And finally they make it to his bedroom. “This is your space, no one’s gonna come in without permission unless it’s an emergency. If you want to add things like posters, plants, more books, you can, just ask me and I’ll get those for you. And right here you have a phone, it doesn’t have a number or internet, you can’t download any apps, it’s just for music.”

The room itself is a lot more reassuring that the one at the manor; it’s smaller and the door doesn’t give directly to his bed, there’s even curtains around the bed here for some privacy and it’s in the corner, which makes it look like a little nook. There’s a nightstand next to it, and closer to the door is a desk with a chair. A fern rests in the corner next to the big window, there’s an armchair alongside it and a small bookcase. The lighting makes it a perfect reading spot, plus there’s a lamp too for when it gets dark. It makes the sunlight appear less aggressive, less fake, gives it a purpose other than mockery again.
The closet is open, shows a variety of clothes inside—mostly sweaters and hoodies, other comfortable pieces instead of what he used to wear as a star—and a drawer chest in which he guesses are more clothes.

“I’ll let you get accustomed, you can sleep, there’s an ashtray on the nightstand.” She smiles at him warmly, then leaves the bedroom.

Exhausted by his day, he gets in bed, putting his cigarette out before laying down.

The bed is smaller, but the sheets are silk like those he’s used to, there’s a lot of pillows and an extra blanket in which he gladly wraps himself, quickly dozing off.

Chapter Text

Living with Barbara is incomparable to living in Wayne Manor. He adapts much more quickly, showers more easily and sleeps better, he eats more and leaves his room often.

It’s not perfect, far from it, he’s still miserable and messy, and just because he showers sometimes doesn’t mean he’s calm the entire time or does it regularly. But he’s a lot less on edge, and the fact that the place is smaller and emptier allows him to walk around without fearing being attacked. He realizes just how stressed he was from living with men now that there’s none around, and he can’t help but be embarrassed about it. For his entire stardom he spent his days surrounded by men and now he’s scared of them for some reason. It’s pathetic, Roman would never let him live that down.

Most of his days are spent either in bed sobbing as he listens to music that reminds him of Roman or their relationship, or watching Sarah on the tv in the living room. He doesn’t watch his movies as often, mostly does it when he feels like he’s doing too well and wants to get back to being truly miserable.
When he has energy he sometimes helps Barbara prepare snacks or salads, and enjoys just drinking tea with her especially when he feels nauseous.
They talk from time to time, but the person he’s most talkative with is Harley. Since he didn’t grow up with her it doesn’t feel as wrong to open up, and she just… she understands him. It feels so weird and good to not have to justify everything he says or does, to never have to defend his thoughts in any way, to not be judged for every little thing.

Sleeping with his back against the wall, though it isn’t as reassuring as sleeping with his head on Roman’s chest, is helpful and helps him do longer nights before interruptions.
Sometimes he gets heavy nightmares and wakes up panicking, and there’s two ways he’s been reacting to that panic so far. The first is to hide in a corner, terrified, anticipating assault, the second is running to the kitchen to find something to kill himself with.
Because Barbara has the feed from the security cameras on display in her Oracle room, she can intervene and help calm him down for the latter reaction, but since he hides in his room when he gets scared instead of suicidal she can’t see it and therefore cannot come to him.

After a month of settling, Dick comes to visit—not without Jason giving his okay.

When he hears him arrive he stays in his bedroom with the door closed, ashamed and anxious, unsure of how to act. He listens to Dick and Barbara talk, biting at his lip and fidgeting with his fingers. They don’t talk about him, they talk about what they’ve been doing lately and how they’re doing in general.

Then, he hears Barbara approach his door so he backs up quickly, goes to his desk and acts like he’s been colouring the stupid thing with the stupid crayons like a baby in case she comes in without knocking.

“Jay?” she starts from the other side of the door, not opening it. “Dick is here, if you want to join us you can, if not no worry. We won’t be coming in your room so you can stay in there if you want to be alone.”

He doesn’t answer. Just stares at the door, confused.

She’s always so nice and lenient with him, it makes it so hard for him to know what he’s actually supposed to do. Harley says he should try making more choices, Barbara gives him more freedom for that, but he doesn’t like making choices, he doesn’t want to, it’s hard and he doesn’t know anything, he needs Roman to decide.
‘Roman isn’t there to choose for you anymore, it’s up to you to figure out what you want now’ Harley told him when he mentioned his difficulty, and since she said that killing himself isn’t an option he’s forced to actually figure shit out. They won’t let him die and they force him to have no strict set of rules, and now he has no idea if he’s actually supposed to leave his room or not. What’s expected of him? What do they want him to do? Do they want him to come or stay away? Will they get mad at him for staying in his room? Will they get mad at him for leaving it? Is he going to be punished either way?

For a while he’s frozen in place, exhausting himself by trying to understand what he’s supposed to do, what his directions are. He tries to imagine what Roman would want, torn between the rule to socialize and the expectation to keep his past family at a certain distance, he tries to replay in his head what Barbara said so he can overanalyze her tone and hopefully find a clue in it, but nothing works, nothing gives him a definitive answer.

He ends up spending the entirety of Dick’s visit doing nothing, Barbara tells him from the other side of the door that he’s leaving but doesn’t tell him to come say goodbye or stay away and be quiet, so he stays paralyzed again.

A few minutes later, Barbara comes back at his door, knocks. “Can I come in?”

“Yes,” he replies anxiously, apprehending what she’s going to say.

“I just wanted to check in.” She comes near the desk, her hands down, her tone light, showing no indication that she’s angry.

Still, Jason assumes he’s in trouble. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what you wanted, I… I wasn’t sure where to go, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Did you want to see Dick?”

“I dunno, I just wanted to be good, I’m sorry…”

“Alright, let’s try it like this. Would you have been happy if I asked you to join us or if I asked you to stay in your room?”

He squints, thoughtful. “I….. I think…. I think maybe a bit of both..?”

“Okay, well you can start doing that. Ask yourself what you would prefer being asked to do and then do it. Next time he comes you can try it out.”

“O-Okay.”

𖦹

Dick comes back two days later, and this time, after some pacing in his room, Jason manages to peek his head out.

Not wanting to put him on the spot, Dick and Barbara act like they don’t notice, letting him come to them by choice.

After observing them for a while, finally the youngest decides to step out and tentatively approach them.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re joining us,” Barbara greets him encouragingly while he makes his way to her and Dick shuffles back on the couch to give him some space.

“It’s good to see you again,” Dick says once Jason is standing a bit behind Barbara. Upon seeing him it’s obvious the move has helped a lot; Jason’s cheeks have actual colour, he seems more awake and rested, and he doesn’t look as thin and malnourished. He’s still thin, but it’s clear he’s been eating more and moving more, enough for his starving body to hang on to some nutrients.

Jason stays quiet, stares at him. It’s been a bit since he’s seen a man, and now there’s one in the space he feels almost comfortable in, it’s a little strange, a little stressful. But at least it’s Dick, who has not shown any behaviour justifying Jason’s fear, and Barbara is there too so he can flirt with the possibility that nothing horrible is about to happen.

“How have you been?”

He keeps staring for a moment until he remembers he’s supposed to answer for himself. “Good, thank you,” he blurts out by habit, then turns to Barbara. “Can I have a cigarette, please..?”

“Sure, here you go.”

“Thank you.”

She waits until he takes a first long drag before speaking again. “Dick and I were thinking of going down in the gym later, you can come if you’d rather do that than stay here.”

“What— what do you want me to do..?”

She turns more towards him. “What would you like me to ask of you?”

“I… I dunno…”

“Well, you have some time to think about it, we’re still just talking,” she assures with a soft smile. “Would you like to put on Sarah’s broadcast for now?”

He considers her, then nods.
At first he heads to the couch, but hesitates upon seeing Dick there. He hasn’t shared a couch with someone other than Roman in… ever, and he doesn’t want to sit with someone else. He doesn’t think he’s ever been on a couch without having sex in years, so he prefers to go in the armchair where he’s sure to be left alone, and grabs the remote to put on the live feed.

Sarah is currently eating, he’s immediately fully concentrated, wanting to make sure she eats everything. He doesn’t listen to Barbara and Dick speak, he barely even realizes they’re having a conversation, all he cares about now is that his cheetah is healthy.

She does look better, her allergy tests are done, she eats with more vigour and he has seen her get more spurts of energy those past two weeks. That too is a factor that has helped him rest a bit better and eat more, to know she doesn’t feel abandoned and depressed because of him saves him from trying to be miserable like her so he’s sure that it’s just.

When she’s done eating someone comes to play with her, it’s the same woman as usual, her greying hair in a tight bun, wearing thick cargo pants, smiling so genuinely he’s always enchanted by it. Roman would consider her old and ugly; she has wrinkles, she doesn’t wear makeup and doesn’t dress like a billionaire, but Jason finds her so beautiful. That she’s so comfortable in her humanity and so happy, the way she interacts with Sarah with love and attention, he could not have asked for someone better to take care of his cheetah. She’s clearly passionate, and it’s obvious Sarah likes her, it’s probably the only thing that makes him happy nowadays.

Barbara points towards Jason with her chin so Dick can see his little brother smile for the first time since his breakup with Roman. Barbara has seen him smile a few times already and it’s always been while watching Sarah, but Dick never saw it yet and he has been very hopeless about his brother’s recovery, so this is quite a reassuring sight for him.

So reassuring in fact Dick’s eyes start to burn and to avoid disturbing Jason he excuses himself to the bathroom to calm down.

He never thought he’d see Jason smile again, especially so soon, so it… it got to him, that’s all.

He presses the back of his hand against his mouth and holds his breath to get ahold of the tears, afraid that his own emotions might trigger something in Jason.

Jason who does notice that Dick moved and is a bit more alert, just in case, but still remains mesmerized enough by Sarah and her caretaker to not analyze what’s going on.

“You okay?” Barbara mouths at Dick when he comes back a few minutes later, to which he replies with a nod.

The youngest watches Dick approach and makes sure he sits on the couch before focusing back on the tv.

An hour and a half passes, Jason focused on the screen and the two others focused on him, until Sarah lays down for a nap which allows Barbara to bring up the gym again.

“So are you coming or not?” she asks Jason once the tv is off.

“O-Okay, yes,” he replies on a whim.

“Cool.” She smiles brightly. “Let’s go then.”

In the elevator, he’s pressed up in a corner behind Barbara, his heart racing and eyes fixed on Dick’s hands.
Then, in the gym, he anxiously steps out, already regretting to have come along. He hasn’t come down here yet, not since the tour, but he has been dreaming about it constantly. Often, after waking up he’d stretch, slowly getting back the flexibility he lost during his stay at Wayne Manor, so now that he’s in here, he fears he won’t be able to resist at least touching the hoop.

He follows them to the mat, fidgeting, biting at his lip.

“If you wanna stretch too you’re welcome to do it,” Dick tells him as he sits down.

Jason looks back at Barbara.

“Go ahead if you want,” she encourages.

So he sits down too, goes in his straddle like Dick and starts to do leg lifts, a bit further away, a bit shyly.

He doesn’t know why he’s doing it, he can’t really help it, but he’s been yearning nonstop day and night and now that he’s here, he… he has no control over himself.

It’s hard, he used to do those much more easily before but his muscles took quite a hit when he suddenly stopped eating and working out. At least it means he gets warm more quickly, so he can actually go to stretching because he prefers that especially with an audience.

He goes into his lunge, getting ready for his front splits, works both sides, then goes into his butterfly, knees completely on the ground and able to put his forehead down too.
Since he became extremely flexible after a few years—enough to qualify as a beginner contortionist—he is still quite flexible now.

When he’s ready he goes into his splits with no problems, can lean down and back, which earns him a “woah” from Dick.

To impress someone with his flexibility causes a rush to flow through his body.

“I didn’t know you were that flexible, that’s crazy,” Dick keeps going since Jason seems to respond well to it, genuinely surprised by it. “You’ll do well in the hoop, that’s for sure.”

Excitement starts to tingle his extremities, his mind failing to hang on to any reason why he shouldn’t go back in the air. Now all he cares about is proving he can still be beautiful and graceful, proving that there’s still something worth looking at.

When he starts to get too eager he gets up, hurries to the hoop, but freezes right before touching it and looks back at them.

“Go ahead, it’s yours. You can use it any time.”

He stares at Barbara, eyes bright, waiting for another confirmation just in case he misheard.

“Go on.”

With a short, electrified breath, he faces the hoop again, puts a hand on it.

A wave of life washes over him, his hand gripping the metal tightly, his heart pumping something other than dread and misery in his veins, his legs buzzing with energy.

He stays in place, simply getting used to the overwhelming feeling before he can actually act on it. It’s been too long since he felt like this, its first effect is paralysis.

But eventually the paralysis fades and he’s able to move, able to put his other hand, give himself a little boost so he can spin as he hooks one knee in.

Blood rushes through his veins, he brings in his other leg to sit in it and just closes his eyes, taking a deep, profound breath.

The air fills his lungs with ease, there’s no tightness, no burning, no weight pushing down on his chest. His feet don’t touch the ground, he’s in the air, he’s light, he’s where he’s supposed to be.

He lets go of one hand, leans back and tilts his body to go into his mermaid. What helped him get this move was imagining himself saluting a crowd below him, and that’s what he imagines now, being Roman’s Diamond, his star, flying and welcoming the crowd, all eyes on him, himself still young and beautiful.

But the magic breaks as his grip falters and he’s forced to sit back up before his arm gives out.

He isn’t with Roman, he isn’t a star anymore. There’s no point in—

“That looked really good, I can’t believe you got it first try after so long,” Dick exclaims.

He straightens a leg below him, easily reaching the mat, to stop spinning so he can look Dick in the eyes. “… really..?”

“Yeah, really. That was flawless.”

He pinches his lips together to hold back a smile.

“I’m a bit jealous, I haven’t managed to get back into it so easily,” Dick chuckles a bit dryly.

So even now he’s still better than Dick? He’s the real actor and the real aerialist?

He gives himself another spin, then starts to walk into the air to slide into his back balance.

This one is a bit harder to find, it hurts badly and he doesn’t remember the exact spot where he’s most comfortable, it takes him a few adjustments before he finds it again.
He puts one foot at the top of the hoop, bends the other under him, his foot almost touching the back of his head. Then, he brings it up so both feet touch the bar, and spreads his legs, going into his russian split. There he can let go with his hands, he takes a moment to breathe and close his eyes again to simply enjoy the feeling. This pose doesn’t require strength, he can relax, he doesn’t need to worry about not having a good enough grip.

Then, he turns towards his right leg, going into a front split instead so he can grab his calf. Again he stays there for a moment, until the spinning gets to his head and he needs to get down.

That’s something he’ll have to get used to again, which is a bit frustrating. He gets dizzy easily now, he knows that, but he’s been spinning very slowly and thought maybe because he’s at ease in the hoop he wouldn’t get dizzy.

He gets down for a moment, waits off the lightheadedness.
A good trick is looking at one’s feet while jumping, but that wouldn’t be pretty so he doesn’t do it. It’s already embarrassing enough that he needs a little break after barely two minutes in the air, he’s not going to start jumping.

He is glad that he was able to actually do something, even if it was super basic, that his lack of strength doesn’t fully stop him. It definitely limits him, he’d like to climb on top of the hoop, try his straddle, the meat hook, other ways to do splits, but he doesn’t want to risk falling in front of an audience. What matters right now is to prove he still has worth, prove he can still be pretty, so he’ll just have to train and condition himself when he’s alone.

The second he feels better he gets back in it, but is caught off guard by one of his sudden irregular heartbeat that pairs up with a sudden difficulty breathing.

Used to it, he stays seated in the hoop and avoids moving, a hand pressed over his heart and his eyes closed so he can concentrate fully on breathing.

“Is your heart hurting?” Barbara asks, easily recognizing the signs by now.
He doesn’t answer, too busy focusing, so she comes over with his water bottle. “Why don’t you get down for a minute, drink a little and wait ‘till it stops?”

He opens his eyes, looks at her, lets out a displeased whine while getting down.

“There you go.”

He grabs the water bottle but doesn’t drink from it, the air is too shallow and he can’t afford to skip a second of trying to breathe right now.

“Are you struggling breathing too?”

He nods reluctantly. He hates when it happens, it’s annoying and it tires him out, he knows he’ll have to go to bed when this little episode is over with.

“It’s gonna be fine, just tell me if you can’t breathe at all.”

He nods again. He knows how this goes, it doesn’t scare him, only inconveniences him. The only time they cause panic is when he gets them while sleeping because he wakes up with a shot of adrenaline, but even then he manages to calm down and wait it off.

Dick stands back, having witnessed those a few times but understanding Barbara has it under control and therefore refraining from coming closer no matter how badly he wants to offer help.

It’s only normal, after the amount of drugs that were in his system when Bruce picked him up it was certain long term consequences were going to take place. At least now he’s not experiencing withdrawal anymore—which Jason simply claimed was side effects of stopping his anxiety medication—but his mood swings are definitely worsened by cravings, though from Barbara’s account it seems even those are a lot less violent since he moved in with her. It does make sense, his anger has always been very restrained around women and without Bruce to spew all his resentment at he’s forced to broaden his range of emotions. When Barbara updates them she mostly reports fits of anxiety and depressive states, and when he does get angry it’s always very broad and never focused, a bit as if he’s showing symptoms of anger without displaying it’s full extent or focusing it on anything—Harley’s theory is that without Bruce around he’s afraid of where his anger might point and so he does his best to withhold it from himself. He’s not ready yet, to be angry at Roman, to realize he was used and betrayed by him, he still needs time to process it all. Turning on the one person who’s convinced him could put up with him isn’t easy, undoing a decade of manipulation, drugging, gaslighting and physical abuse won’t just take a couple of weeks.
Harley has also prepared them—or did and still does her best to prepare them—for the possibility that Jason might never let himself acknowledge the pain Roman has caused him and will keep seeing him as a good lover and will keep thinking back fondly of his stardom, but that doesn’t mean he’ll never get better and never heal. It might make it harder and limit the extent to which he’ll heal, but he can still have a relatively good life in the aftermath. He just needs a supportive environment, and luckily for him he has that.

Speaking of supportive, as Jason’s episode quells, Barbara has him drink some water and helps him get up, reassures him and encourages him as they get to the elevator so he doesn’t crash and have a breakdown because of his short-lived enjoyment of life and its sudden end.

Dick stays back, trusting she has it all under control and well aware his presence is making his brother nervous.

Barbara waits until the youngest is asleep before joining Dick back in the gymnasium to confirm that Jason is fine and just needs to rest a little bit.

“I can’t believe he actually did it,” Dick exclaims in a breath.

“I know, I’m so proud of him.”

He nods in agreement. “He must’ve been imagining going back to it a lot ‘cause he just did all that without doubting the moves. Going back to it after, like, fifteen years, so easily? That takes a monstrous amount of visualization.”

“I mean, we’ve all seen the security footage of him staring at his old hoop back at the manor for hours, he must’ve been creating whole sequences in his head. Probably has been since he saw you walked in his room with chalk on your clothes.”

“Yeah… I guess I panicked for no reason, right? Maybe this’ll be the one thing that saves him.”

They both look at the lyra.

“Maybe,” Barbara replies thoughtfully.

𖦹

That night, as Barbara assists Bruce on his wild goose chase with Sionis in her Oracle room, Jason knocks at her door.

“Hang on, B,” she says over the comms as she changes her screens. She goes to the door, opens it. “Is everything alright?”

Jason looks down, nods.

“Are you sure? What is it?”

“I— I’m sorry for bothering you, I just… can I go in the gym..? Please?”

She considers him attentively. “How long have you slept before you woke up?”

“I don’t know, maybe… maybe five hours..?”

“How is your heart?”

“Fine, I think…”

“And your breathing?”

“Fine too, I think…”

“Alright, but eat before and bring your water, okay? I’ll keep a close eye on you through the cameras to make sure you stay safe.”

“O-Okay, thank you.”

“And remember to listen to your body. Taking breaks is what’s gonna help you the most.”

He nods obediently.

Once she gets back to work he goes in the kitchen to grab a bag of baby carrots from the fridge and eat them, struggling a bit since the only thing on his mind is the hoop. Nevertheless he finishes the pre-made portion, can finally grab his bottle and go down to the gym.

Because Barbara is looking at the security feed, he can’t bring himself to do conditioning exercises, but he did warm up in advance in his room because he knew he wouldn’t do it here. He’s already tired, but stretching feels good and his body aches for the metal bar, he cannot even imagine going back to bed before doing a little bit tonight.

The entire time he’s been working out in his room he’s been imagining sequences, trying to remember what he learned as a kid, so that he’d be sure to have something pretty to show now that he’s getting on the hoop.

He goes into his mermaid again, grips the hoop with his one hand still on the bar as tightly as he can.

The first few minutes always hurt the most, his hands getting used to the hardness of the metal and roughness of the tape around it, and with a weak grip it’s even more painful.
It’s fine because he’s used to pain, it doesn’t bother him, but he wishes this was still as easy as it used to be. After giving off the impression that everything was effortless for years, to visibly struggle in front of someone other than Roman makes his skin crawl. He’s already been feeling that to various degrees those past weeks, but it’s much more pronounced now that he does something intended as a performance.

With no one around to encourage him, he quickly loses his motivation and stops, especially as he starts thinking of Roman.

Is he actually allowed to do this? Why would Barbara get to decide instead of Roman? Why is he letting himself do something he wants to do? Why is he not suffering instead?

He hurries to get down the hoop, kneels on the floor and holds back tears the best he can.

They’re not tears of sadness—that’s why he wants to hold it all in.

It’s just— it’s not fair. It’s not fair! Why does he have to stop himself from doing something he enjoys? It’s not fair, he deserves something nice after all that pain, he deserves something good! Roman would bring him to Broadway, buy him extravagant things, have entire museums closed for a day so they could go through it at their own pace and without being disturbed, he got him a damn cheetah for god’s sake! And now he’s not allowed to do this? Why? Why shouldn’t he get to do this? Why can’t he make him proud by doing this?

He hurries back up to his room, pacing in the elevator and then running to his room, grabbing the phone and putting the wireless headphones over his ears, quickly putting on his music.

The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives starts to play and he immediately bursts into tears, the anger shifting into grief and therefore finally allowed to come out.

He followed Roman thoughtlessly, became everything he wanted, ten years of putting himself aside for him, making peace with what he could never be. Roman took him in when he was nothing and made him everything, the sun, whom he loved, made him shine. But without him there is no light, he cannot shine on his own.

Without him he is nothing, and therefore he needs to stop trying to be something. With no spark he has no worth. This is the end of the story.

Chapter Text

“Do you wanna come down in the gym?”

He stays still, back turned on Barbara, wrapped in his blankets. “No.”

“What about watching Sarah?”

“No.”

“…. We could watch one of your movies.”

“They’re not mine.”

“Would you like talking about how you feel with me or Harley?”

“I’m not feeling anything.”

“That’s something worth talking about, then.”

“Why would I talk about it? What’s it gonna do? Talking won’t make me good enough, it won’t bring me back to him, it won’t make me fuckable again, it won’t change anything.”

“Jason, that isn’t the point of your life. There’s other things to do, things you enjoy and don’t burn out from.”

“That’s what I enjoyed. Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean I don’t.”

“If you liked it so much why did you burn out? Why are you afraid of men, why are you afraid of touch?”

“… because I’m not good enough.”

Barbara sighs lightly. “I know this is gonna fall on deaf ears, but you are enough, Jay. I know it’s been a problem since you’ve been a little kid, I know you always felt out of place, but I swear you are enough, you always have been. Why do you think we’re all trying to help you? Why we all dropped everything the second Bruce called us? Why we’ve been missing sleep and get woken up by nightmares constantly ever since you died, even after you came back? We all love you so much, you’ve never had to prove yourself to us, because you’ve been enough from the start. Do you know why none of us went to you after you came back? Because we were terrified of making you hate us. And I regret it, we all do, we should’ve done something, we should’ve pushed anyway, we just… we thought you knew. We thought you knew we loved you. But that’s our mistake. We didn’t say it enough and we didn’t show it when it mattered most. I’m sorry for that. But I’m saying it now, okay? I love you, you’ve always been family, and I won’t give up on you nor will I ever think you’re not good enough. Maybe you think the only way you could ever be wanted anymore is through sex, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to show you that’s not true. You are wanted as a human being, by me, by Dick, by Alfred, by Bruce, by Harley, by everyone in this family. So… I’m gonna leave you be now because I get what it feels like to be tired and feel defeated by life, I know you probably just want to go back to staring at the wall, but please just… try to understand what I’m saying. Try to let yourself believe you’re more than what you’ve been told to believe.”

He does his best to hold back his tears until she leaves the room, sobs into his pillow to make sure she doesn’t hear.

This would be such a nice thing to believe in, but he’s not allowed to. He has seven years of experience backing up the fact that no one could ever like him as anything more than a piece of meat.

𖦹

“Things weren’t conflicting like this with Roman,” he admits to Harley when she finally gets him to talk.

“Is that so?”

He shrugs, still lying in his bed facing the wall. “Everything was the same. No one tried to break the mold.”

“I would say the mold broke when Roman left you, and now we’re all just trying to help you fit into a place with no mold.”

“You all want me to get back to who I was before I got with Roman. That’s a mold too.”

Harley pauses to think about it. “You’re right, we’re all looking through you to find something familiar and we shouldn’t be doing that. You shouldn’t be pressured into finding your way back to a self you’ve moved on from, I’m sorry. What we should all focus on is helping you become whoever you want to become.”

“I don’t want to become anyone else. I want to go back.”

“But you can’t. And if that was really true, then you wouldn’t be conflicted, right?”

“… it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?”

He sighs. “I dunno, I’m tired, I’m sick of talking…” At this point the only thing that could get him out of bed is a special cigarette and he’s never going to get one of those ever again. He would do anything for one except ask because he’s afraid they’ll tell him the same thing Bruce says about them, and he can’t try to make one himself because he doesn’t know what was actually in them.

“You’re tired because you’ve been staying in bed for three days, getting out will help you actually sleep.”

“So what? So I can get more nightmares?”

“What kind of nightmares are you getting?”

“Just… regular ones…”

In reality, he’s been having a lot of fucked up nightmares he could never talk about because of how disgusting it makes him feel. He avoids thinking about it even in thought but sometimes it catches him by surprise anyway and he really hates it.
Even if he doesn’t consider those people family anymore it’s still— it still doesn’t mean he wants them to be involved in what he used to be, and it freaks him out especially when it gets his body to react no matter how small and brief the sensation is.

He has other nightmares too, which at this point he prefers; nightmares of being ugly in public, nightmares of working despite being unable to, nightmares of Roman hating him instead of being indifferent, nightmares of his films happening in real life, nightmares of failing in front of his audience. But even those nightmares he can’t talk about, because he’s afraid it might prove something.

“Can you describe one to me?”

“…. Roman didn’t like me talking about my nightmares.”

“Well I’m not Roman, am I?”

He stays quiet.

“I’m not gonna force you to talk but I am gonna entice you to leave your bed. It’s important you get up and do something.”

“Since you’re not Roman you can’t make me do anything,” he mumbles.

“I’m not interested in using the same techniques as him to get you to do stuff. I just want you to realize it is worth it to get out of bed.” She pauses briefly. “You barely tried hoop again but Barbara said you seemed to really enjoy it. So why’d you stop? Don’t you miss it?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“That’s all that matters.”

He frowns, bites his lip.

“You know, for me aerial hammock helped a lot. It’s a good way to express yourself, it’s a good way to get yourself to move again, if you want to do aerials then do it because I promise you it’ll clear your head of a lot of bad thoughts.”

That does grab his attention.

If it can help get rid of his gross thoughts and nightmares, then…

… but he’s so tired. And without Roman, he… he has no point in doing anything.

“Y’know,” Harley starts, “we could work on a little sequence together and then show Dick. I’m sure he’d be impressed, he already told me about how amazed he was that you didn’t forget everything, surely he’d be even more impressed if next time he sees you you have a full sequence ready.”

Finally, he turns around in his bed to look at her, a tiny spark in his eyes. “Do you really think so..?”

She smiles. “I know so.”
Jason’s only motivation is to prove himself, as it always has been, and of course proving himself to his older brother will always be a desperate need even if he claims that he doesn’t see Dick as a brother anymore.

The conflict can easily be read in his traits, but he ends up giving in.

Barbara is surprised to see Jason accompany Harley in the kitchen, stays quiet in fear of saying something that’ll ruin Harley’s work.

“We’re gonna go in the gym to work on a little sequence,” the psychiatrist announces. “First we gotta fuel up, though.” She turns to Jason. “I’ll take care of preparing the protein shakes, you can go freshen up, okay?”

He nods, walks off to the bathroom.

“Thank you,” Barbara says lowly to Harley so he won’t hear.

“It’s my pleasure to help,” she replies in the same tone. “I’m gonna stay till tonight ‘cause I gotta talk to the whole fam, I’ll use your comms for a minute, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s no problem.”

“Okay cool. And don’t worry it’s nothing bad, Jay just made me realize something a bit important about how we’re treating him. I mean… we’re all wishing for him to go back to the Jason we know, even I’m kinda doing that, and that won’t help him. We gotta let him heal and turn into whoever he feels most comfortable being, not trying to lure him back into acting in a way we’re familiar with.”

Barbara considers her, thinks about it. “… oh. Oh. That… that’s a really good point. I can’t believe I didn’t realize that.”

“Me neither, he’s the one that pointed it out. It’s gonna be hard but we gotta let him change. He’s not gonna be the Jason we used to know and that’s okay, what matters is that he gets better and more comfortable with who he is.”

The younger woman nods. “You’re right, that is gonna be hard, but… in the end I really do just want him to be happy, so… yeah, I’ll try to stay mindful of that.”

In the bathroom, Jason is staring at his naked body, cupping his chest.
He still has more weight to gain, he can barely grab himself, and he needs to work out regularly too so he doesn’t get chubby instead of muscular.
He also trails his hands up and down his waist, to make sure it’s still there, that no matter what else he loses at least his basic shape remains the same.

Everyone loved his waist, fans who met him in real life often would point it out in the first seconds because they never expected him to actually have such a pronounced hourglass figure especially for a man. In films he’d be grabbed there often with a lot of emphasis on it, and in movies he’d be made to wear clothes that accentuated it even more. When he wore corsets it’d be even more attention-grabbing, so of course Roman loved to make him wear those for social gatherings just to get the most comments possible on it. The corsets also made his chest appear bigger, squeezing everything under and therefore accentuating it quite a lot, and at first he didn’t mind how it made people struggle with eye contact but the last social gatherings he attended definitely contributed a lot to his breakdown, how people would so rarely look him in the eyes he could actually count the amount of times he made eye contact in a night in a room with hundreds of people. No, they were all too busy looking at his mouth, his chest, his waist, his legs, and when they did look him in the eyes it was always to feel the pleasure they felt watching him looking directly at the camera but in person. It was never to create a connection, never to see him as an equal. Only ever an object.

His skin starts crawling, he wants to cover himself up. But he ignores it, forces himself to act unbothered.

He even forces a smile, starts to grope himself more aggressively.

You like that, he tells himself. You were made for that. Why would you have a body that looks like that if it wasn’t meant to be used? Why do you think you’re not feeling well now? Why do you think you’re so catatonic? It’s because you haven’t been fucked in too long. You’re falling apart because you’re not serving your purpose. You’re wasting yourself. You had more to give, Roman said so, and Roman knows best. You should’ve listened to him. Now look at you. Unusable, pathetic, old.

Go, perform. See if it gets you your spark back, you stupid and useless bitch.

𖦹

Harley doesn’t bring up the time it took for Jason to get ready. She stays positive and only speaks of aerials, nothing else.

Barbara stays with them when they drink their protein shake, but she doesn’t come down in the gym with them. She doesn’t want to overwhelm Jason.

“I’ve been told you’re super flexible,” the psychiatrist starts when they’re on the gym mat downstairs. “But you gotta make sure you have the muscles to handle it otherwise you might injure yourself. Believe me, as someone who’s hyper mobile that shit can happen really easily. I can show you my routine if you want.”

“I already have a routine,” he replies softly.

“Oh, perfect then, let’s do it.”

“I— you’re gonna do it with me?”

“Yeah, it’s always more fun to warm up with someone else, right?”

He thinks back on all the times he warmed up and worked out alongside Roman compared to all the times he was alone while doing it.
Roman would focus on strength, and Jason would just focus on his shape, and whenever they’d be working out in the same room it would end up with them fucking on a workout bench. There was something very pleasant about it, he’d forget how hungry and tired he was for a little bit, all hot and bothered and so high on the pleasure, sometimes he’d be lucky and they’d do it near the mirror so he could admire Roman as he got fucked, looking at him, sweaty and arms bare, ramming into him with so much power, it was… it was so fucking good.
“I— I guess, yeah,” he answers after a few seconds.

It’s a bit weird and uncomfortable to do his routine with someone else, he starts shyly and with his head down, the only reason he’s doing it at all being that he’s with Harley and he knows she won’t do or say anything to him that would make this feel worse.

“So didya have personal training sessions or something else?”

“I met with a few people to design the best routine, but once that was done I never saw them again. Except the physio, for when I had injuries.”

“Did that happen often?”

“Not too much, I was careful.”

“What kind of injuries did you get? That might be important for hoop.”

“Just a few dislocations, mostly in my hips, once or twice it was my shoulders. I pulled my hamstrings a few times too. I, uh, I think one of my films actually kept the scene where my shoulder dislocated, it was the best shot and it didn’t show, so… yeah.”

Harley keeps her outrage for herself. “You got injured during films mostly, then?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I mean… doing it over and over again for days, sometimes without enough warmup, it was hard, but… worth it, ‘cause the fans loved it. But yeah with Roman I don’t think it ever happened, or if it did I don’t remember…”

“Is it because he was more mindful?”

Jason shakes his head with a faint smile on his lips. “No, I think it’s just… I was way more relaxed with him. So it was easier to do stuff, y’know? With him it’s always so warm and good, I…” His stare becomes distant.

“Well that’s good then, and as long as you listen to your body and don’t push when it hurts you should be good on the hoop,” Harley says to bring him back before he spirals. “Don’t be afraid to say anything, I’m here to help. I saved a few ideas for a sequence because honestly I’m super excited about it, but if there’s moves you don’t like or that are too painful to do so soon then tell me and we’ll look for other stuff.”

“O-Okay…”

Since it has been reported that he responds very well to praise and enjoys impressing people, she makes sure to keep him in a good mood by encouraging him a lot and being vocal about how impressed she is with him throughout their warm up.

After all, he only knows he did a good job if the audience reacts positively or if Roman tells him, otherwise he has no idea. He needs feedback for everything, and though after a while he started to understand what got good reactions and what got lukewarm ones, he still relies heavily on an outside perspective. Even at his peak his view of himself was distorted, and Roman kept helping him with his opinions and thoughts, so now that he has no one to approve of every single thing he does and says he desperately needs to be encouraged and complimented when he tries to do something.

“Okay, conditioning time,” Harley exclaims softly when they’re done with the warmup. “I looked up some exercises so I can help you.”

“I— I’m not…” He’s uncomfortable saying he’s uncomfortable, the words won’t leave his mouth.

“What is it?”

“I don’t— nothing, it’s nothing, sorry…”

“It’s okay. Are you too tired?”

He shakes his head.

“Do you… do you just not like conditioning?”

“It’s just… it’s not pretty…”

“Oh. Well I can look away, and since I’m with you Babs doesn’t need to watch through the cams. But it is important you do them, it’ll help you build the strength you need to do it correctly.”

“Okay, I… if no one watches, I can do it…”

“Great! Do you remember some or do you want me to show you what I saved?”

“You can— you can show me…”

“Okay, great.” She pulls out her phone, opens her camera roll and clicks on the screen recorded video of conditioning exercises for the lyra.

After carefully analyzing it, Jason is ready to try, and so Harley turns her back on him and waits until he’s done.

It’s hard, it’s a bit discouraging, but right now the urge to perform is so overwhelming he doesn’t give up. He does his shoulder shrugs, tries his straddle—which he doesn’t have the strength to get into without pushing his feet against the bar—goes into his back balance, tries to do the meat hook but fails, and ends on his front balance.
He takes a few seconds to pant with a hand over his heart so he can tell if it’s fluttering, before telling Harley he’s done.

“Okay so I was revisiting my notes and what I saved and I am so excited to be doing this and see you perfect it. So I was thinking, you go into a sit, then mermaid, you take your top leg out, pull it towards yourself in a split if that’s comfy, then bend your leg and slip into a cradle, hang out for a second then grab the hoop and go back to sitting. That’s the start I had in mind, we can try just that for now. And without a spin, we can practice those at the end so you don’t get nauseous during.”

He nods, takes a deep breath and focuses.

He puts both hands at the top of the hoop with his back turned on it, jumps and sits in it. He’d get in more prettily but it’s the best way to get in without causing the hoop to spin, and he is quite tired already, he’s afraid of doing too much and his grip failing him when it matters most.

Speaking of grip, he readjusts it for a second before letting go of one hand and going into his mermaid. Slowly and gracefully, he takes out the top leg, grabs it, but feels the hand still on the hoop start slipping and so is forced to sit back in.

“Fuck,” he hisses lowly through a tight jaw.

“What happened? Is it your grip?”

“I think I need chalk…”

“Oh! There is some here, lemme go grab it.”

He watches her fetch it, anger swarming in his chest. He should be good, he should be perfect, it’s humiliating that he struggles over something so simple.

“Got it!” She runs back to him. “Here.”

“Thank you.” He dips one hand in the bag then rubs it against his palms.

“Remember we can take breaks, the warmup was pretty intense already, so take it easy, we have no deadline.”

The nod he accords her is simply out of politeness, he has no intention of taking it easy.
He grabs the top again, adjusts his grip, then goes into his mermaid again.

It is easier, the chalk helps, he manages to bring his top leg out and hold it into a split, but only for a few seconds. Before his grip tires out he lets go of his leg, bends it and slides into his cradle so he doesn’t have to hold himself with his hands. The cradle isn’t too uncomfortable, he’s hooked with one knee and his back leaned against the hoop, head tilted back so he has some more security in this pose.

While he stays there he rolls his wrists subtly, already aching, kept going by Harley’s enthusiastic praises.

Then he reaches up, one hand on each side of the spanset, comes out of the hoop and straightens his legs, one on the lower bar and the other out of it. He brings his other leg in gracefully, finding himself back in the sitting position.

Harley claps while smiling brightly. “That was great! You’re really a natural, I can’t believe this is just your third time in fifteen years.”

He holds back a shy smile.

“For now we can just keep practicing that, so your grip gets used to it again, ‘cause I was thinking of going on the top part next.”

For the following fifteen minutes that’s exactly what they do, but Jason’s heart tires and starts to flutter eventually, forcing him to get down.

“It’s alright, it’s okay, it’ll get used to it with practice,” she soothes as he fights frustrated tears. “Come here, let’s take a break.”

He sits next to her on the floor, lips pinched together, fists closed tightly.

She gently puts a hand over his, which immediately sways him. It doesn’t wash away the anger but it appeases him enough to relax and avoid starting to struggle breathing too.

“Do you want to lay down?”
He looks at her lap with wide pupils, she follows his gaze, smiles softly. “Yes, come on,” she encourages as she taps her lap. “You can relax, come here.”

He doesn’t protest. The longing is too strong, it blinds him, he cannot resist it. He’s too tired, too distracted by his feelings, to ignore a warmth and softness he thought he’d never get again.

“There you go,” she keeps encouraging as he lays down his head on her lap. “Just breathe and relax, everything’s fine.”

In a matter of seconds he is completely out, which surprises Harley. Sure he was tired but she anticipated more struggling, more conflict. Yet there he is, seeming to be sound asleep already.

She takes his pulse by putting her fingers on his wrist. It’s still irregular but it is slower, calmer.

It seems she just discovered a very relevant coping technique.

𖦹

Jason sleeps until nightfall, and when he wakes up Harley convinces him to go eat and rest some more instead of getting back in the hoop.

He’s subdued, very calm, relaxed. When they’re upstairs he eats and drinks what he’s given without protest, breathes much more deeply and easily than usual.

His touch starvation is much more severe than she thought it was, it’s not only a craving but a genuine need, that’s why he can’t sleep, barely eats, barely has energy. He’s fed by contact, not just calmed by it.

She sets him up with Sarah’s broadcast and a heating pad for the soreness in the living room once they’re done eating, and goes to Barbara in her Oracle room.

While they wait for Dick, Bruce and Alfred to connect to the group comms, Harley talks to Barbara about Jason’s touch starvation situation, and they start discussing ways to adapt their routine to allow Jason to stop sleeping alone and have more easy access to physical touch than he does right now.

“I have too many nightmares at night, I don’t wanna risk it.”

“Then the best way is to let him do his nights alone and in the morning or afternoon he can sleep accompanied.”

“Yeah, I think that’s best.”

“Okay, perfect, we’ll test it out tomorrow, I’ll come to make sure—“

“Hey,” Dick’s voice interrupts her. “Sorry it took me a minute to log in.”

“It’s all good. Harley’s here too by the way.”

“Oh, hi Harley. Is everything fine?”

“Yeah, just had a little realization I need to share with the class.”

“Okay, is it— is it a good or bad realization?”

“Well it’s good I realized it, but it is gonna be hard I think to do better.”

“What—“

“I’m here. Alfred too.”

“Okay perfect, we’re all on then,” Barbara says. “Harley, take it away.”

She explains what she already explained to Barbara, makes sure they understand even if they don’t like it.

“So what are we supposed to do?” Dick asks.

“Let him choose how he wants to be and support him in that choice.”

“But— I mean— what if he… I dunno, what if he changes too much? What if he moves on from us?”

“Then that’ll be his choice. You can’t force him to stay if he one day is independent enough to leave. It’s his life, we’re just making sure he stays alive and heals enough to make his own choices.”

“But—“

“I know it’s not fun to hear, but the goal is to help him find happiness again. Not to force him into a life he doesn’t want.“

Dick takes a moment to think about it, focuses on his breathing. “Okay… but I can still see him now, right?”

“Of course. We’re even working on a little something to show you, I’ll talk to you about it more next time I see you.”

“Okay,” he replies a bit curiously.

“Bruce, Alfred, can I hear from you now? Your silence is worrying.”

“I will comply with whatever helps the boy,” Alfred declares, though his voice strained, a hint of pain in it he cannot hide.

“Alright, good, thank you. And Bruce?”

A few beats pass before he answers. “I won’t force him to do anything.”

“Good, so it’s agreed. We all get to know him as he is now and help him grow. I’ll let you get to your hero business now, if you need to talk I’m always there, as usual. Thank you all for understanding.”

On that she disconnects, checks up on Jason before leaving. She has a meeting with Harvey tonight, since she offers her services as a therapist to villains and reformed villains, so she can’t stay longer. If she had no clients tonight she would’ve spent it here to give some more company and attention to the youngest, but that’ll have to be another night.

Jason spends a while on the couch, at some point accepts that he might sleep here until morning, but then a loud gunshot outside changes his mind. The living room feels too open, he starts to feel too vulnerable, so he goes in his bedroom, hanging onto the heating pad tightly.

Despite the small disturbance he does sleep better than the nights before, enough that he has energy to shower when he wakes up the next day.

One of the hard parts of showering is after, when he’s alone in his room with no clothes laid out for him. It’s one of the main reasons he struggles actually showering; he has no idea what to wear afterwards.

It happened from time to time, that he had to choose his clothes because Roman wasn’t with him, but he had rules and knew what his lover would want him to wear. But here? Here there’s no clothes Roman would approve of, and no guidelines to respect.

He paces in his room, trying hard to figure out what to wear, and as he does, he hears Harley come in the apartment. That adds some pressure; he has to be ready for the guest, but still not enough to get him to choose anything.

He doesn’t hear Barbara which means she’s still asleep, and soon there’s a few very shy knocks on the door.

“Are you awake?”

“Yes,” he answers.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

“Oh— are you sure I can come in? I can come back once you’re dressed.”

He shrugs. His towel is wrapped around his chest to hide his imperfections, and he is used to being naked in front of others, he doesn’t really have a problem with Harley seeing him like this. “I don’t know what to wear.”

As to not make him uncomfortable, she quickly gets rid of her brief surprise. “Okay, well first of all I’m proud of you for showering, I know that’s a lot of energy, so I’m really proud,” she tells him genuinely. “As for getting dressed, try to think of your plans for the day. What do you think you’ll be doing?”

He looks at her, then at his wardrobe. “I dunno, like usual, I guess? Sleeping, sitting in the couch… go in the gym if I’m allowed…”

“Alright, and would you prefer to go to the gym right now or later in the day?”

“I— I dunno, it depends on what you want…”

“What would you rather be asked to do?”

“… I am feeling a bit awake right now so… I wouldn’t mind going in the gym…..”

“Okay, great! That’s what I want too, so you can dress to do physical exercise. While you do that I’ll go prepare us a little something to eat, alright?”

He nods. “Alright.”

While she’s gone, he finds himself struggling a lot less. There’s not many options, not like back home, and he has one guideline to follow, which allows him to get dressed in a timely fashion for once.

But as he leaves his room and sees Harley making food in the kitchen, he’s hit by a wave of weird discomfort.

Usually he’s the one in the kitchen while Roman is still in the bedroom, he absolutely hates how it feels right now to have turned the tables in some way.

“I— I need to help, let me make the food, please,” he urges anxiously while hurrying over.

“Okay yeah sure, I just finished cutting everything so go ahead, you can take care of the rest.”
Harley did her homework, she looked at every interview ‘Red’ has ever done during his career, looked at his socials, read as many articles as she could find, so she wouldn’t have to guess too much and would be able to anticipate certain triggers. One of the most common things that was talked about was cooking, so it makes sense that he gets troubled when others make food for him especially in front of him. It’s best to let him do it, to stand back and only lend assistance if he requires it.

“Will I be allowed to cook again one day?” Jason asks once he finishes up.

“You are allowed to cook, just under surveillance.”

His eyes brighten. “Really? Can I— can I make bread? I can— I can prepare lunch too, and dinner, and—“

“I can look at what we have here, sure. But let’s eat first, okay?”

He nods, settles on the stool at the island once she does the same.

The entire time he eats he’s thinking about what he could make, tries to remember his recipes. “I think I’ll need my cookbooks, maybe,” he admits. “I haven’t cooked in so long, I… I’m not sure I remember much by heart…”

“That’s okay. Do you know the name of the cookbooks you had?”

He squints, thinking hard. “No, but I could recognize them if I saw them.”

“We can look online together after we’re done eating, then.”

He nods happily. “Thank you.”

The fruit salad tastes better than usual, it’s easier to chew, to swallow. He still eats slowly by habit, and leaves a few bites in his plate no matter how hungry he is—he’s only allowed to finish entirely when Roman says so, which is never in front of other people. But right now eating feels less like a chore than usual.

“They were fancy, I remember that,” he says as Harley looks on her phone. “One was artisanal bread, there was one of sea food, one of entrées, one of cocktails and cocktail foods…”

“Let’s take it one at a time, birdie.”

“Right, sorry.”

“It’s alright, no need to apologize, I love the enthusiasm, I’m super glad you’re excited about this.”

They take a little while, Harley is very careful with her phone, never letting Jason grab it and mindful of what’s on the screen, and after a few minutes they find almost all of his cookbooks plus a few others she’ll be ordering for him.

He’s excited, not yet realizing he won’t be cooking for Roman, and with that burst of energy he goes down with Harley in the gym to put it to good use.

Beforehand Harley does leave a note to Barbara so she knows where they are, and soon after they’re downstairs, doing the warmup.

“For moments when you’re too tired, I got you some weights and grip trainers that you can keep in your bedroom. Right now they’re in a bag near the entrance, I’ll try to remember to put them in your room before I leave. For now, though, any bruises or blisters yet?”

“My skin did damage a bit, but I haven’t done enough yet to get blisters I think. I do have a bruise on my thigh, though.”

“Alright, we’ll put on some ice afterwards then.”

Sadly the training does not last long, barely after the conditioning he gets heart palpitations and gets short of breath, forcing him to take a break.

“That’s okay, let’s just wait ‘till it’s over, we can try again after if you’re not too tired. Here have some water, sit down, everything’s gonna be fine.”

“I don’t like this,” he whines. “I’m sick of it, I don’t even get why, I don’t get it…”

“Well you haven’t been living in a very healthy way for years, your body isn’t indestructible.”

“But I didn’t get those for years, it started when—“ When he started taking the special cigarettes more frequently. “When… when I stopped my medication… it’s just the side effects, that’s all, right? That’s all it is, it’ll stop eventually, right?”

“I’m not gonna give you false hope, okay? It will get less frequent and intense the healthier you get, but things like these are usually long term. It’s gonna suck, but eventually, if you take care of yourself, you’re gonna get way better and you’ll probably be able to do full sequences at some point.”

With teary eyes, he looks at her, then down at himself. “Didn’t I give enough already..?” he mumbles. “I have to have that taken from me too..?”

“I’m sorry, Jason, I know it’s hard, but it will get better, I promise. It won’t be taken from you, I’ll make sure of that.”

He puts his face into his hands, incapable of keeping the tears in.

“You will be able to fly,” she assures with confidence. “You will get better enough to do this, you will get to have this one thing.”

He has a hard time believing her. Right now it feels like he won’t be able to do anything, he won’t ever get to be pretty or graceful, he won’t get to upstage Dick. He won’t get to do anything ever again.

𖦹

“Yes, that’s it, now just sit aaaand yes! That was the best one yet! How are your wrists doing?”

He stays seated in the hoop, fighting off a smile. “They hurt a lot…”

“Alright, let’s end on a good note then, okay? You must be hungry too, I know I am.” She hands him his water bottle as he gets down.

“Thanks.”

Despite the little crisis earlier, things are a lot better now, and they can end for the first time because of something other than his heart or lungs struggling to function.
It makes Harley very enthusiastic because so far Jason never ended a session in a good mood, she is so glad he agreed to keep going instead of stopping earlier, this will be such a good progress for him, it makes her heart all warm and light with pride.

Back upstairs, Barbara is up and eating her breakfast, her face lighting up when she sees how well Jason seems to be doing. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey,” Harley replies. “I’ll just go put this stuff in your room, okay?” she tells Jason who nods.

“How did it go?”

“Good,” he tells Barbara, walking up to the counter.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

He washes his hands with cold water, today having done enough to get blisters, and then grabs the ice from the fridge to hold against where it hurts most on his legs once he settles in the living room.

He puts on Sarah’s broadcast, not having dared to grab something to eat since he didn’t get told explicitly to eat.

Quickly he starts to fight off a wave of fatigue, his body deeming it has done enough today even if it’s not even noon yet.
He can’t help but think back on how much work he used to be able to do before, and compare it to how he is now, which quickly dampens his mood.

“Jay?”

He turns towards Harley.

“Did you eat?”

He shakes his head.

“Did you want to help making a salad or are you too tired?”

“I’m… I’m really tired…”

“Do you want to sleep? You can eat after.”

He nods.

“If you want, Barbara can come sit and you can lay on her lap. Does that sound good?”

After looking down and biting his lip, he nods shyly.

“Good, perfect, okay.”

But as Barbara approaches the couch, he rethinks his answer. “Wait, I— it’s just for… for normal sleeping, right..? You won’t— you won’t do anything to me..?”

“No, of course not. Why?”

“Just… y’know… couches aren’t really for lounging, they’re just… people don’t get on couches with me just to sit,” he admits with his eyes down.

“Well I want to get on a couch with you just to sit, I promise. But only if you want. If you’d rather sleep alone that’s fine too.”

“No, I— I don’t want to sleep alone, I…” He swallows, chews at his lip. “I don’t want to sleep alone.”

“Alright. Then I’ll sit next to you, you get comfortable, and I won’t touch you. I promise.”

He considers her lengthily. “Okay.” Like with Harley, the urge for physical proximity is simply too strong to resist when it’s offered, no matter how scared and worried he is.

He watches Barbara come near the couch, prop herself from her wheelchair to the cushion, and the second she gives him an okay he lays down, curled up, his heart racing but calming down so quickly as the warmth envelops him.

“I won’t put my hands on you, I promise,” she soothes, taking the throw blanket and putting it over him. “You’re safe here, you can sleep.”

And he quickly is, the softness and innocent intimacy bringing a smile to Barbara’s face.

“I know we’re not supposed to force him back into who we used to know him as,” she says in a hushed whisper to Harley, “but I feel like he’s a kid again and he got tired after a long patrol. I know he changed but… some parts of him are still the same, aren’t they?” She looks down at him, takes a long, comfortable breath. “Despite everything, it’s still him.”

Chapter Text

“How does that make you feel?”

“…. Jealous.”

“Why?”

“Because he— he goes through ten years of actual torture and can get back to it like it’s nothing, and I can’t even do an invert without panicking.”

“That’s an exaggeration, Dick. He didn’t get back to it like it was nothing, and you know that. He’s been working hard lately and he has his struggles, just like you.”

“But I’m not supposed to struggle. I’m the one that’s supposed to be the model, the one that has it all together, the one that helps, not the one that needs help.”

“Dick, listen to me. There are no ‘supposed to’ in life. Do you understand that? You are not ‘supposed’ to be anything. You are a human being with multiple sides to you, with contradictory thoughts and feelings like everyone else. You are a person, not a model or an idea, not a symbol or a finished story. You are still growing, you are still learning, you are still living. And living comes with difficulties, even for people who seem to have it all figured out. You are already doing better than you were at first. You’ve already made a lot of progress. It’s why I told Jason that he could perform something for you. Because you know how hard it is, you know how much work he’ll have put into just one little number, you know how rewarding it will be to have a final product to show. You know how healing that can be.”

He looks at her, doing his best to take in all that she’s saying.

“If he saw you doing trapeze he would get jealous too. You’re brothers, comparing yourself is what you do, but brothers inspire each other too. You only got back on a trapeze when you knew Jason was alive. You started doing flips again because Tim wanted you to show him how. You did your first pirouette in years because Damian challenged you to do it. There’s a pattern in there that you can’t afford to overlook. You do things for each other. You are motivated by each other. If Jason can fly again so can you.”

𖦹

“Alright, I’m ready, show me.”

Jason, wearing something Harley made for him, grabs the top of the hoop, gives himself a spin and starts his sequence.

Getting to this point was not easy, it took three months of mood swings, breakdowns, determined hope and optimism to reach this stage of comfort in the hoop, enough to show it to Dick. Not every day did he train, he had his fair share of trouble believing in himself and in his right to do something with his body that wasn’t for the purpose of fattening Roman’s bank account, many times did he give up, cry, had heart palpitations and difficulty breathing while practicing, but Harley and Barbara kept encouraging him, kept reminding him of how hoop has always called to him, and carried him through those long weeks of pain and despair.

Today, he is stronger, much more at ease, the sequence is only two minutes and smooth so he doesn’t strain his heart. He flows between each move, takes his time, each transition delicate and reflexively enticing. After seven years of moving his body only in ways others could desire, to find himself performing again brings those habits he was too exhausted for back to life, but for the first time the point of it isn’t to arouse. It only is because it’s the way his body moves by default now, but there’s no purpose to it, he is focused only on grace, not on being fuckable.

Treating the lyra like a partner, he does not see himself as alone in the air. Its cold, harsh and painful nature reminds him of Roman, he is the one working around it, never the other way around. His body adapts and learns to merge with something that will not be bent or broken, there is a safety in that, a familiarity in being held up and trusting in something that leaves him with countless bruises and aches. The pain isn’t bad; it’s proof that he’s alive, that he’s doing something with himself, bruises are not all he receives from it. If he flinched away or let go he would fall, he would never stay in the air, he has to trust it and in return it will allow him to fly. He finds romance in that.

Again it all comes down to devotion, doesn’t it? Surrendering to something stronger than he, learning from it, growing alongside it, changing constantly so he might fit in its unyielding form, wanting to be one with it knowing he will always be the soft, damageable one.

The metal bar he hangs onto does not suffer no matter what he does; whether he falls or tears open his palms, whether he bangs his head or hits his legs, it remains the same, he is the only one changed by it, affected by it. No matter the injuries he gets the hoop will not reflect them.

But there is one thing he can change about it; touch warms the metal. The longer he is in it, the less cold it will become.

Roman did not care for his pain, but after enough time, he cared for something inside him. He stopped avoiding small contacts when it was just the two of them, he stopped pushing him away to sleep. He warmed up to Jason. Because Jason was the first person to have ever stayed long enough to cause change. He hanged on, he adapted, he put up with the pain because he knew it was worth it, and that effort did something.

But in the end he still let go. He couldn’t hang on anymore; the bruises turned into open wounds, the blisters turned into burns, the pain became too much. Surely Roman didn’t stay warm, and Jason has fallen so far down he cannot even reach him anymore.

Right now though, right now he hangs on, refuses to let go again. He doesn’t care how new bruises appear on top of old ones, he doesn’t care about the way his palms are going numb or the tightness in his chest. He is flying, he is still in a romance, he still has something worth admiring.

At first he thought aerials were disrespecting Roman and everything he’s done for him, but then he understood it was the only way to keep their relationship alive. The only way to keep the strict routine and physical discomfort while still loving it. The only way to make sure not all of Roman’s work goes to waste.

In hurting himself to perform—in enjoying hurting himself to perform—he honours what Roman has done for him. He wears his love for him on his skin, he carries his adoration for him over his chest and shoulders, he endures his exhaustion like he’s endured everything before simply because his heart is what has carried him through it all already. He is still alive because he still loves Roman, his heart beats solely for him.

It’s why he hasn’t been able to cook; though his books have arrived a while ago now he never managed to follow through a recipe. Every time he would realize the food he’s making wouldn’t make it to Roman, he would give up, burst into tears and hide away in his room, wishing for death.

The lyra is all he can do anymore. That’s all he has left. The only piece of Roman he can still taste.

The music comes to an end, he flows into his last pose.

His audience claps and cheers, and he feels in his element. Instinctively he waits for someone to say ‘cut’ before he remembers he isn’t on a film set.

He gets down, walks to his audience with a professional smile, awaiting feedback.

Out of nowhere Dick approaches him a bit abruptly, he flinches back, causing Dick to step back. “Sorry, my bad, sorry.”

He looks at him, frowning.

“I had the urge to hug you, I’m sorry, I’m just so proud and happy but I won’t touch you, I’m sorry. That was so good, I can’t believe it, I’m so proud of you.”

“What was good about it?” he asks curiously.

You didn’t smile the entire time, and are you sure you kept your toes pointed? he can hear Roman say. You’re rusty, Red. The audience will see that.

“Everything was perfect, there was not one move that looked hard, and your transitions were really fluid. You looked like you were dancing with the hoop, not on it. And all of that in only three months, I’m really like… wow.”

Okay. It’s not as detailed as Roman would express his criticism, but it’s better than just ‘it was good’. “And what about the bad?”

“There wasn’t any, genuinely, it was perfect.”

He tries not to grimace. He hates it when people say that. There’s always something to do better, there’s always a flaw, Roman wouldn’t keep that from him, he’d help him improve.
Before getting frustrated, he turns to Barbara.

“I honestly have no words. I can’t believe you did all that, you have to give me a minute to get my thoughts in order before I can offer you valid criticism.”

He can’t believe he did that good, but the familiarity of people being blown away by his talent balances out the disappointment of Dick’s comments.

Finally he turns to Harley, who has given him points to improve since the start, trusting she has something to say.

“I only have one note; you were a bit off center in your back balance, but you recovered well so I’m pretty sure only I noticed it. That was a good little improv moment, but we will work on that a little more.”

He nods dutifully. “Thank you.”

Barbara and Dick look at Harley, a bit taken aback, which Jason notices.

“You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” he says. “I’m not a child, I know you all think I’m fragile, but I’ve been criticized my whole life, I know how to take it well. I want to improve myself, empty compliments won’t do that.”

Harley smiles proudly at him. They’ve been working on expressing himself clearly, though he is still a bit hostile and confrontational he has gotten a lot better at it.

“I’m a celebrity,” he keeps going, high on the happiness of having performed, “I’ve been criticized in every way possible, if you think you’re going to hurt me with only a comment then you clearly don’t know me at all.”

“Okay, Jason, that’s good, a little aggressive,” Harley cuts in. “Take a step back, assess your feelings, okay? There’s no need to get frustrated. You did good, they’re proud of you, and not everyone looks for flaws. Maybe they truly did believe you were perfect, and that’s their point of view, you don’t have to change it.”

Considering her, he takes a deep breath and pinches his lips together. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just remember you can’t expect everyone to look at you the same way.”

He turns back to Dick—but mostly Barbara. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

The more present and healthy he has gotten, the more he has gotten back to his Red mannerisms. It’s how he’s behaved for seven years—just like how he moves it has become the default state of his existence, and since he’s not borderline catatonic anymore he has space for a personality again.

“It’s okay,” they both say to differing degrees of uneasiness. Barbara is a bit more used to it, but she still dislikes it, whereas Dick has rarely seen Jason lately so he is much more surprised by his behaviour.

Jason looks back at Roman for approval, to see how badly he messed up, but doesn’t see him. “Where—“

Oh.

Right.

“Why don’t you guys go upstairs? Jay and I have a few exercises to do, we’ll join you after.”

He blinks and suddenly it’s just him and Harley in the gym. “Do you think he would’ve liked it?” he asks her in a weak unassured voice.

“I think it doesn’t matter,” Harley responds softly but truthfully. “You were happy, doing this makes you happy. You like it, that’s all that matters.”

He exhales sorrowfully, sitting down on the ground.

She sits down with him.

“I… I had a dream last night where… where we got married… I know it’s weird, I never thought about it before, but… do you think he would’ve married me if I had been better? Do you think we could’ve been a family like that..?”

“Honestly? No. I don’t think he’d get married for any reason other than to make sure his children weren’t bastards if he decided to have any.”

He smiles faintly. That does sound like Roman. “Maybe if I had been a woman, he’d—“

“He’d have killed you immediately. If a woman had caused the trouble you caused him at first he would not have let her live no matter what.”

That’s… that’s a truth he does not want to think of more.

They both stay quiet for a while.

“Crashing after a performance is normal,” the psychiatrist starts, wanting to say it while she has the opportunity to do so, “we talked about it already, we’re gonna make sure you feel as good as you can for the next few days. You remember the plans we made, don’t you? Now we’re gonna go eat a good salad with sauce because it’s a special occasion, and then we’ll watch Sarah. That’s the immediate plan. You’re already starting to deflate so let’s get to it now, okay?”

“I wish he was here,” he whines as he gets up.

“I know,” Harley empathizes, giving him his water bottle so he can drink a little. “You told me you might like company as you got changed. Would you still like that?”

After a small consideration, he nods.

“Okay, let’s go get changed then.”

They go up in his room, he changes into clothes he already laid out in advance while Harley avoids looking at him but not deliberately enough to have him get self conscious.

“I, uh… I don’t think I want to be alone tonight,” he admits softly after pulling his head through his hoodie.

“That’s fine. I’ll stay with you.”

It’s not just that he performed today for the first time in months and without Roman around, it’s also that it’s the beginning of autumn and that time of the year always has him more emotional than usual. The air of change overwhelms him, the memories take him by surprise, he’s afraid of sleeping alone tonight. To be fair he’s afraid of sleeping alone every night, but the fear is actually intense enough today to reach out.

This September will be the first in years that he will not go to the orchard with Roman. In his dream last night they actually got married there, and he’s scared of the dreams and nightmares becoming worse and worse as the nights go by. He’s afraid of losing control like he has when he first got brought to the manor, he’s afraid of being that erratic and depressed again, he’s afraid of losing the slight beauty he gained back those past months, he’s afraid of not being able to keep doing lyra and therefore letting his relationship with Roman die.

Later, he’s on the couch with Harley and Barbara, with Dick sitting in the armchair, all eating while watching Sarah’s broadcast.

They talk to him a lot, encourage him, mention how they’re proud of him, and the praise does appease him a little now that he changed and they’re somewhere else. The overall fan response is positive, no one is hating on what he did, so his performance was indeed good. Still to be worked on, but good enough to warrant acclaim and not the opposite.

“How are the bruises?” Dick asks lightheartedly, familiar with the marks left by aerials and wanting to use this sudden good mood to bond with his brother.

“Good. They remind me of Roman, it’s nice.”

Dick freezes, not having expected that reply at all and greatly disturbed by it, but luckily for him both Barbara and Harley are used to him saying such things by now and fill the awkward silence very quickly.

“At least you’re not getting blisters anymore,” Barbara says.

“Yes, those were annoying. But now with the callouses my hands aren’t soft anymore…”

“I mean, yeah they are, just not right under your fingers, but that’s not a problem,” Harley tells him.

He looks down at his hands, examining them.

It’s been so long since he’s had a manicure and it shows, so long since he took proper care of his body. He does his best, but without Roman around his best is very limited and hard to reach. “Do you think we could go to a spa one day?”

“We talked about this already, Jason,” Barbara reminds him. “It’s too dangerous, you could be recognized.”

“But would people really recognize me now? I don’t look the same at all, I don’t think they would…”

“That’s because you have body and facial dysmorphia, you see yourself differently than what you actually look like. But believe me, you are recognizable,” Harley tells him.

He sighs softly. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to see what others see. It’s scary, to not know what he looks like, he’s sick of always being told he isn’t what he thinks he is yet never seeing anything differently.

He looks back at Sarah on the screen. She’s tired, she’s laying her head on her caretaker’s lap, eyes still open but breathing slowly, calmly.

It has him relax, reminds him how tired he is.

He leans his head against Harley’s shoulder, takes a long, deep breath and reaches for Barbara’s hand. She takes it in hers, holding him gently.

He did well today. All things considered, he thinks he did well.

He’s warm, he’s not warm when he did bad.

So he did well.

𖦹

“I think you were right.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I… I’ll show you.”

Dick leads Harley excitedly to the gymnasium in Wayne Manor, climbs on the flying trapeze platform, brings the trapeze over with the rope.

“Are you watching?”

“Yup!”

He takes a deep breath, holding the trapeze, then jumps.

He cuts through the air, goes into his invert with ease and without panic, hanging only by his knees, then grabs the bar again and lifts himself up so his pelvis is against the trapeze, rolls forward, keeps swinging. Then he does a pirouette with a big smile on his face.

It doesn’t end there, he does a diamidov—going in his pike and then twirling to face the other way. He does it again and again, until he tires himself out.

He disembarks the trapeze by flipping off of it, bounces in the net, and finally gets down.

“What? The? Fuck?” Harley exclaims. “That was incredible!” She claps and jumps up and down, jumps on him to give him a hug when he’s in front of her.

He chuckles shyly, his heart racing and still smiling from ear to ear. “I guess I just… it’s not fair to fly when others are buried, if no one else is allowed to fly but… if he can, I can too.”

“That’s what I’m talking about! Let’s fucking go!” She gives him a high five when he pulls back. “I am so fucking proud of you, Dickie, you don’t even know.” She grabs him again and squeezes him. “I told you you were able to get back to stuff like that, didn’t I? It’s in your blood, no matter what happens you’ll always find your way back to it. Fuck, I’m so happy for you.”

He lets out a happy exhale. “I want to see Jason more. I want to do this with him.”

𖦹

Jason being more sensitive in autumn can go two ways as Harley starts to do something therapy exercises to facilitate familiarity between him and Dick.

Luckily, it goes the good way instead of the disastrous way. Like when they were young, the only reason they manage to bond again is because of their shared love for aerials. Jason is more vulnerable, therefore more open, and with Harley mediating he stays open instead of shutting down.

They take it slow too, she makes sure Jason’s boundaries are never forced or pushed, makes sure his voice is actually heard. If he looks uncomfortable they stop, if he flinches or grimaces they take a break.

The most tricky part is the couch. Jason has agreed to try, but even with Harley between them Jason starts to panic when Dick simply approaches the couch.

“You know he’s not gonna do anything to you, Jay.“

“I know,” he replies whiningly. “I’m sorry, I just…” The bad disgusting thoughts swarm him whenever he’s on there and Dick comes forward. It makes him want to throw up, he hates it and it scares him, he’s terrified that he’s the one who wants it not Dick.

“It’s alright, we’re not going to keep trying today. We’ll do something else, okay?”

Biting his lip and anxiously glancing around, he nods.

“We’re gonna go back in the gym, is that fine?”

“Yes,” he mumbles.

With Dick around, the gym became the safe space for the youngest, it feels less intimate, more work-like and it gives them an easy subject to go to when they hit a wall in a conversation.

The second they’re there he goes in his hoop, just because he’s more comfortable there, and to get rid of the gross thoughts he had he starts to spin as fast as he can.

Harley doesn’t interrupt, she sees it as a good coping mechanism, she’d rather he get in his hoop and make himself nauseous than he try to force every drawer open in the kitchen looking for a knife.

He still hasn’t mentioned his disgusting thoughts, he’s too ashamed and petrified of the possibility that it means he’s become the depraved person that most of his fans were. He doesn’t want to be like them, he doesn’t want to fantasize about the things they do, he doesn’t want to think about things like these. They’re scary and he doesn’t enjoy it but the thoughts are there anyway, normal people don’t imagine that kind of stuff at all, he didn’t imagine that kind of stuff at all when he was with Roman.

He slows down when he can’t take it anymore, his head spinning as his body comes to a halt, closing his eyes while he catches his breath.

“Do you want a ginger candy?” Dick offers.

Jason doesn’t answer, too preoccupied by trying to control his nausea to even think of speaking. Now the important part is that he doesn’t throw up, but what’s good about it is that he’s so focused on the discomfort he has no more space in his brain to have gross thoughts.

They leave him alone until he recovers, though he’ll probably be mildly nauseous for the rest of the day after maybe twenty minutes he manages to move again.

“If you keep practicing spinning like that you’ll be able to do the tornado in like a week,” Dick says encouragingly.

“It’ll be longer than that,” Jason replies blankly.

“I— yeah, I mean… yeah, probably, I was just trying to, y’know, make conversation.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m the one that exaggerated…”

A silence takes over the room. They don’t know what to say to each other, Jason’s learned go-to sentences are not things that are appropriate to say in this setting, he doesn’t know how to speak to people when it’s not about the content he used to make as Red, and Dick is constantly worried about saying the wrong thing and triggering his little brother.

Harley doesn’t intervene because it’s important they figure it out on their own, avoiding awkwardness is impossible and it builds comfort to overcome it and keep going anyway.

“You’re getting better quickly at spinning, that’s what I meant to say,” Dick tries again a few seconds later.

“Thank you,” Jason replies a bit hesitantly.

“Y’know….. if you want to just do that, we don’t have to push. We can just hang out here, we don’t have to do more. I’m happy just being here with you, and I’m scared you’ll start to hate me if we keep trying other things.”

Taken aback by the sincerity, the youngest looks over at Harley for guidance.
He doesn’t know what he wants, Roman isn’t there to tell him, though he does enjoy speaking to Dick about aerials he knows he’ll never be comfortable with him the way he is with Harley or Barbara, he doesn’t know what’s best, what he’s supposed to say, what he’s supposed to want. He’s tired and nervous and he has more gross thoughts lately, it isn’t fun, he doesn’t like it, but since when does that matter? If Dick wants to be closer then he has no right to stop him. But if Dick doesn’t want to be closer, then… does that mean he did bad? He’s not likeable at all anymore? No one ever gave up on befriending him before…

He doesn’t know how to be more approachable without Roman, without the structure of work, of being a star, he doesn’t know how to be friendly when he’s constantly nervous and afraid, it’s been so long since he felt so terrified all the time and even then Roman was there to help, now he has to do it by himself, he has to somehow maintain his lifestyle in a completely different life.

“We take it at your own pace, Jay,” Harley tells him.

That’s not the answer he’s looking for. He needs an order, he needs guidance, he doesn’t need lenience or compassion.

He should be dreaming about the orchard right now, he should be teasing Roman about it, he’s not supposed to be here, he’s not supposed to be with them.

“I wanna go home,” he admits tearfully. “I don’t know anything, I don’t want anything else, I just wanna be home…”

“You can’t go home, Jason. This is where you live now.”

“But I don’t want to live here, I wanna go back, please, I… you can tell him, I got better, I even have a new act for the fans, you know him, you can tell him—“

“I’m not going to do that. It’s over between you and him, there’s no point in trying to go back, you have to move forward.”

Incapable of directing his anger at her, he storms off instead of lashing out, taking the elevator back to his room where he slams the door and throws himself on his bed.

He grabs his headphones, through a tearful vision searches for a song, clicks on Me and My Husband by Mitski, and lets it all out.

Chapter Text

Incapable of sleeping, Jason is in the armchair in his room looking out the window when Dick wearing his Nightwing costume comes into his room without knocking.

“Oh, you’re already awake, perfect,” the oldest says, an edge to his voice as if nervous.

Jason’s heart starts to race, he doesn’t understand what’s going on and he was lost in thought, imagining himself in a car driving through the streets with Roman under the moonlight, and now something is clearly wrong and he’s terrified of what that is.

“We gotta leave the Clock Tower, I’m sorry, I gotta take you to the manor, Barbara pissed off some bad guys and we want to make sure you’re not here if this place gets compromised.”

He stays quiet. Stares at Dick.

“I’d bring you to my place but we don’t have time to make it safe for you and I live in a block, other people might see you. And Harley’s busy right now so I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to do with me, and I’m gonna have to bring you to the manor. But when this place is safe again we’ll bring you back here, I promise. And if you just follow me and get in the car with me, then I won’t have to touch you. So please just come along, I don’t want to scare you.”

Jason obeys simply because it’s his instinct and when he’s that nervous all he can do is latch onto any form of guidance that’s offered to him.

“You can bring Sarah if it’ll help you stay calm.”

He does, grabbing his plushie and fidgeting with it, following Dick to the elevator, starting to dissociate.

“Babs said you have difficulty with cars,” Dick says as they get to the garage, “so I took one of Bruce’s fancy cars to help.”

But Jason doesn’t care. Doesn’t see the car, doesn’t comprehend what’s being said to him. He takes his orders, follows them, his mind elsewhere.

“Okay, here you go. I won’t force you to put on the seatbelt, I know you don’t like that either. You’re on the backseat and I’ll drive carefully so it shouldn’t be too dangerous.”

Just a minute ago he was fantasizing about being in a car at night, which makes this feel even more unreal. He looks outside the window absently, not taking in a single sight. Even billboards with his face on it he doesn’t notice.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, you’ll be back to living with Babs in no time. This is just to make sure you’re safe.”

It feels as though no time has passed, he is soon back in the room in the manor he used to stay in, and immediately he starts to wonder if he ever even left. Maybe he just made up everything else, maybe it was all just a very vivid and very long dream.

𖦹

“The Halloween Ball is tonight,” Bruce exclaims in the morning, pacing in the batcave. “He can’t stay here for this, we can’t—“

“He’ll stay in his room, Alfred will guard it,” Dick replies. “And we’ll do our plan exactly how we said it, this doesn’t change anything.”

“This changes everything. They were basically in a symbiotic relationship, he’ll know Sionis is there when he arrives, and Sionis will know too. How do we protect him? How do we make sure Jason doesn’t do anything stupid? What if he freaks out, what if—“

“You’re the one freaking out right now, B. And you’ll be in here tonight, watching the cameras, if Jason leaves his room you’ll know.”

“But then what? What if he leaves, makes a scene, what if people hear him? We should put him under tonight, he can stay in the cave, I’ll monitor him, I’ll keep him asleep, it’s the safest solution.”

“Are you kidding? You want to drug him? It’s just going to make everything worse, he’ll never forgive us.”

“But he’ll be alive and unaware that he was in the same place as Sionis. He’ll hate me, but he’ll go back to healing with Barbara. I’m fine with that.”

“He’ll hate me too, I’m the one who brought him here and I’m not just gonna give up. I won’t let you drug him.”

“It’s sedation, for his own good. And I don’t want to do it either, I just don’t see a better alternative.”

“The better alternative is to have him stay in his bedroom, he can watch Sarah to pass the time, he won’t know Roman is there.”

“Yes he will. He’ll feel it, they both will. People don’t spend ten years glued to each other and not feel each other’s presence. And simply by deduction should he be able to figure it out, he himself was a guest for the past seven years, he knows Roman comes here every year.”

“He still hasn’t stopped dissociating since last night, I don’t think he’ll be conscious enough for that.”

“But there’s no certainty. It’s better to sedate him.”

“It’ll be worse after. Sure he might spend a bad night here but we won’t have completely broken his trust. He had no independence, no say in anything, for a whole decade. Sedating him will trigger the shit out of him.”

“It’s better than risking his life letting him be conscious in the same space as Sionis.”

For a while they keep arguing about it. They’d call Harley but she’s still busy; Harvey has a crisis and doesn’t have anyone but her right now, she has to stay with him until he gets better. They’d also call Alfred but Alfred is with Jason to make sure he’s okay and won’t panic if he eventually stops dissociating.

𖦹

The plan for tonight is simple; Roman has been invited for the sole purpose of Bruce accessing what’s on his phone and for that he needs to stay in the batcave. Dick will host, Bruce will surveil Roman and wait for the batcomputer to download the data from the phone, and hopefully they’ll get some incriminating evidence.
Normally Barbara would be there to help but she’s busy with her own case and currently compromised Clock Tower, Alfred will be busy guarding Jason’s bedroom door and Harley is still with Harvey so she cannot lend a hand with Jason.

Alfred got on Dick’s side about whether or not to sedate Jason, which is why the youngest is still in his room, awake and conscious, though still wildly dissociated.

Tim will be there too, with Dick to maintain appearances at the Ball.

The noise outside as the press and guests start to arrive triggers Jason’s instinct to put on a show.

Alone in his room, with a distant stare, he straightens up and adopts a humble smile.

“He’s very sick, he couldn’t brave the crowd tonight,” Dick tells the guests when they ask where Bruce is. “I’m the host for tonight, I hope you’ll enjoy having me.”

The guests take it well, they’ve always loved Dick so they’re glad this means they get to hear more from him tonight, but it doesn’t fully erase their disappointment with Bruce’s absence.

“Sionis’s car just pulled in. Be alert, Alfred,” Bruce says into the comms they all share.

“Will do.”

Minutes later, Roman walks in with someone else, a twenty-something young man all dolled up and quiet, which immediately grabs him a lot of attention. Soon the fellow guests learn this is a model from the agency Roman started after Red’s death, the man going by Ruby and introduced as “a boy who isn’t scared of doing what needs to be done so he has what he wants.”

Ruby gets compared a lot to Red, no one finds him to be the beauty or charming person Red was, and when Dick sees him his heart shatters for both him and Jason.
Either that model knows what he got himself into and is stuck there, or he doesn’t know yet. Every event Roman brings along a different model, says he simply brings his favourites to give them opportunities, but he never gets into a committed relationship with them like he did with Red. At least that probably means he’s less cruel to them, as he attributes less time to one in particular, but it’s clear he uses his position to get models and aspiring models to sleep with him, and surely he does not care to respect anyone’s boundaries once he gets them in his bed.
No one has managed to fully replace Red, but it’s imperative Jason never finds out that Roman brings other people to events with him.

It’s hard for Dick to be civil with the Crime Lord, especially since Sionis taunts him with his smile and little knowing comments that sound innocent to everyone around but are so fucking disrespectful and maddening to hear for them. He acts grieved and sad about Red’s demise, speaks fondly of him whenever someone brings him up, talks about how glad he is that they got him Justice at the very least and how those rabid fans will never hurt a soul ever again.

People inquire about Chloe too, her presence very much expected here, but Dick has to announce in front of a smug Roman that she hasn’t been able to come here tonight because she’s already grieving enough, to remember Red and a friend’s son is too much for her all at once.

All of those absences make the Ball feel much more irrelevant; Red, the biggest subject, Chloe, the life of the party, and Bruce, the esteemed host, all gone and missed greatly.
Ruby is an underwhelming substitute for Red, he’s not as entertainingly suggestive and doesn’t have the same chemistry with Sionis—they don’t move in sync, they don’t exchange playful whispers, they don’t captivate an audience simply with the way they look at each other.
Dick is a fine host, he’s charming and funny, does his duties very well, but since he’s the one taking care of everything he has less time to socialize with everyone. He’s busy overlooking everything, and Tim, though a nice social boy, isn’t the flirt or entertainer Dick is.

Upstairs, in his bedroom, Jason is pacing around, heart fluttering and adrenaline rushing through his veins, though he has no idea why. A gut feeling has him restless, the noise downstairs has his extremities tingle.

He changes into the best looking clothes he can find in the room, quietly, but he isn’t presentable at all. He cannot go mingle looking like this.

He goes in the bathroom, looks for makeup, but finds nothing. All he can do is wash his face and apply some lip balm.

It’s not enough. He can’t be seen like this. Everyone downstairs is waiting for him.

Why did Roman not have him get ready in advance? Why have him get ready in a place where he cannot prepare anything? Is this a challenge? A way to show how effortlessly beautiful he is? But that’s not true anymore. They won’t even recognize him, will they? He doesn’t even recognize himself anymore.

Still, he has to get ready. It’ll be Roman’s choice whether or not he’s to be shown to the crowd.

Below the ground level, Bruce seethes simply at the sight of Sionis. The fact that he’s down here and Dick is the one hosting is because they all know he won’t control himself if he’s in the same room as the Crime Lord. He will break Roman’s teeth like porcelain, he will tear his entire body apart for what he’s done to his son. No one deserves to be free after the atrocities he’s committed, and right now it takes him everything not to go upstairs to give in to his rage.

For hours he follows Roman through the cameras, eyes fixed on him.

But, a few minutes after the speech, all lights go off.

The backup generator has had problems lately, Bruce has to hurry to start it manually, his heart pounding as his gut tightens with a bad feeling, rushing in the complete darkness to restore power in the manor.

Upstairs, Jason is driven by his instincts, and as the crowd exclaims loudly, he breaks the window in the bathroom and jumps out.

Upon landing, his right ankle cracks loudly, he cries out in pain, but stands despite it, limping quickly towards the garden.

Near the pillar him and Roman have developed a habit of taking a smoke break at, stands his lover, alone, looking around.

As they make eye contact, the lights turn back on.

The forced shut down has the batcomputer lock, Bruce has to go through the security checks before he can access the cameras again. “C’mon, c’mon..!”

Jason tries to speak, but not a sound comes out of his mouth. He falls to his knees, the pain of his leg barely reaching him. In front of him is the sun, the most wonderful sight in the world, it is so overwhelming he cannot breathe, cannot look away, cannot do anything but pray that he might taste his warmth again.

“Red,” Roman says while looking him up and down, casually, as if no history stands between them. “Is that how you dress now?” He approaches. “And is that really your face or is that a Halloween mask? My, my, what a poor surprise. You look like a cadaver.”

“I lost him,” Bruce cries into the comms as he finally gets the feed back on.

“I can’t do it without you,” Jason sobs pathetically, finding his voice only slightly. “I can’t do it, I can’t live without you, I’m sorry, please, I…” He crawls up to him, kneels at his feet, but dares not touch him. “Please kill me, please, I don’t want to live without you, please, I love you, I’m sorry, please..!”

“I don’t think he’s inside anymore, Dick do you have eyes on him?”
“No, maybe he went outside?”
“Where’s Jason? Alfred, check on Jason.”
“…… He’s not in his room anymore. I— the bathroom window is broken, I…. I don’t see him.”

“You’re not mine to kill anymore, Red. You lost your worth, I don’t want to kill an insignificant little whore. You took that from me, you became something not worth the effort, you robbed me of your life. For that, your punishment is to live as the defective toy you’ve become. I won’t give you the easy way out, you are not the star I made and devoted myself to.”

“No,” Jason lets out in a shaky breath. “No, please, I— I have a new act, I’m still— I can still perform..!”

The oldest laughs. “And what act is that? The act of aging poorly?”

“No, I… I started doing aerials again, I’m getting better, I’m still— I’m still a star, please, Roman, please…”

“Why do you not have your piercing anymore, then?”

“I—“ He chokes on his words, falls silent.

“You were a star, Red. The greatest kind, the most beautiful one. But you threw it all away. You disregarded my judgement, ignored my efforts, and now look at you.”

“Step back,” Dick shouts as he comes outside, careful to have closed the door first. “Step the fuck away from him.”

“With pleasure,” Roman tells Dick. “This is quite a pathetic show, I don’t know how you can endure it.”

“Shut up. I swear to God if you keep talking I’m gonna kill you.”

“Sure you will.”

“I’m serious. I don’t care about the code, I don’t care about having blood on my hands. The only reason I’m not putting an end to your miserable life right now is because I don’t want to make Jason hate me, because for some reason he still doesn’t see you as the piece of shit that you really are.”

The glacial stare and rigidity in his words show Roman that Dick is telling the truth, that if the circumstances were different this would be a death match.
He chuckles while Jason keeps pleading weakly, nailed in place by the loss he’s forced to go through. “If I were you I’d give up on him.” He reaches in his breast pocket, getting Jason to unintentionally let out a loud pleading whimper. “There’s better people to kill for.” He throws the pack of cigarettes at Jason, forcing Dick to run towards him to take them away and therefore allowing Roman to get back inside without a hiccup.

Jason starts screaming like he’s getting murdered, Dick has no choice but to hold him down and put a hand over his mouth to make sure no one hears him, kicking the cigarettes away. “Alfred, come help me, please, I— I need help..!”

“Uh, guys?” Tim’s voice comes in. “Guys, Bruce just got upstairs. He looks mad, I think he’s gonna—“

They hear everyone inside exclaiming in surprise, then they hear Tim trying to calm down Bruce and convince him to leave. In the background there’s a lot of overlapping chatter, a lot of gasps and hushed comments.

Dick, sickened by guilt as he holds his little brother down in a way he must’ve been held down a thousand times before so people could have their way with him, doesn’t have the capacity to worry about what happened inside at the moment.

It feels like he’s waiting for hours for Alfred, as Jason cries and writhes under him and he has no choice but to keep holding him in place, until finally he’s lended a hand and Alfred comes and sedates Jason because at this point there’s no other way to get him to safety.

As Jason’s body grows limp, Dick’s tears come up, he stands back, hand over his mouth, doing his best to control himself because he feels on the edge of falling apart.

Alfred takes care of bringing the boy inside the batcave via a hidden door outside, leaving Dick to carry the cigarettes as he follows with guilt trying to trip him at every step.

Neither of them utter a word as Jason is laid down on a bed, the two of them convinced this is their fault and too ashamed to speak.
If only Alfred had heard Jason break the window over everyone screaming as the lights went out, and if only Dick had listened to Bruce and let him sedate Jason, then this wouldn’t have happened.

Alfred examines the youngest, since he broke and jumped down a window there is a chance he’s injured, finds his elbow to be swollen and bleeding, and his ankle to be broken. While he takes care of that, Dick sets the cigarettes down on the desk and simply cries by Jason’s side.

Tonight was an absolute disaster.

𖦹

Bruce punching Roman at the Halloween Ball becomes a very popular subject amongst the citizens of Gotham.
Since Bruce has given no justification for it, most people take Roman’s side, and Roman himself has greatly enjoyed the attention and sympathy all of this has brought him. People’s opinions are changing on Bruce, all of the philanthropy does not matter anymore, he’s now a brute, someone who gives in to the temptation of violence, a short-tempered entitled billionaire. Employees start to talk about encounters with Wayne that left a sour taste in their mouth, suddenly he’s rude and doesn’t listen to others, and quickly rumours get out of control. Apparently there’s a weird love affair going on involving one of Roman’s models, or maybe actually the affair was with Red and now that he’s dead Bruce has lost the plot, but actually the truth is that it’s a money thing, something with their companies and a contract, but what if……..
It never ends. But Bruce doesn’t care about that. He’s glad he punched Sionis, he would do it again if he went back in time knowing what it would cause. He heard everything through the comms when Dick went outside, and the way Roman acted and what he was saying made him livid, still does whenever he thinks back on it. Someone needed to do something, to show they weren’t just going to take it and do nothing.
Roman is lucky Tim was there because he otherwise would’ve ended up at the very least in the same kind of body cast Bruce put Joker in after Jason’s death. To have punched him in the face only once leaves Bruce aching, the single impact unsatisfactory. Jason will not be avenged as long as Roman is still free to roam around.
Jason who can’t even roam his own room right now, having reached a new level of catatonic state. He doesn’t react to anything, not people, not sound, not touch, nothing. He stares at the ceiling when he’s awake, and he cries and screams when he sleeps. They tried everything; they put on his movies, lyra videos, Sarah’s broadcast, his most listened to songs, they tried talking to him about every subject they could think of, but nothing has him snap out of it. It isn’t like he’s ignoring them, it’s more like he’s completely checked out, like he’s so deep into his own head he’s genuinely unaware of what’s happening around him.

Harley says they just have to wait, that he’ll come back on his own eventually.

He stays at the manor because it’s easier to make sure there’s always someone with him and people can take relays intravenously feeding him instead of Barbara having to manage it all on her own, and the simple air in the manor since the Ball is barely breathable. Bruce is cold towards Dick and Alfred, there’s barely a word spoken between them, everything is electric, as if the tiniest little sound could trigger a massive shock—everyone is on edge, guilty, full of regret.

Bruce does not blame Dick or Alfred, not really, but to have warned them about the dangers and then be ignored therefore resulting in exactly what he said would happen happening, angers him too much to talk it out. He understands why they didn’t want to sedate Jason, he himself didn’t want to do it and maybe that’s why he let himself be convinced, he understands their hope and trust in Jason, but things derailed anyway, didn’t they? The worse happened. Their job was to keep Jason safe, and they failed at that. Jason broke his foot and fractured his elbow to crawl back to Roman only to be insulted and looked down on, which has completely shattered him. It’s hard to believe things will get better when they look so hopeless right now, he struggles imagining a future where Jason manages to live at least a little bit with a mind of his own.

The night of the Halloween Ball was the perfect storm to destroy Jason, as if the whole world lined up perfectly so Jason might lose the last bit of sanity he had left. What if he does get better only for something like this to happen again? It feels as though the universe itself is against him. But he’s just a boy, he’s… sure he’s a grown man now, but he’ll always just be a boy to Bruce. A bright, hopeful boy with so much to give, yet constantly dimmed down by the horrors around him. He was warm and beaming with light when Bruce found him, full of energy and dedication, wanting nothing more than to better other people’s lives, to illuminate Gotham with all the love he had to offer. A tiny little sun in the making, he was. Even when he came back, Bruce was blinded by his fire, burned by it, and reacted by instinct simply because he was too afraid to allow Jason to grow up. He tried to force Jason back into what he was instead of looking at the man he became and accepting he wasn’t there for that transition. He couldn’t accept that his son had to grow up without him, he couldn’t accept that he had failed that badly. That he wasn’t there for him as he changed. He couldn’t look past his guilt, couldn’t see Jason was still growing and changing right in front of him, asking to be let back home. His eyes, accustomed to darkness since his son’s death, could not look straight at the sun and see what needed to be seen.

Now there’s nothing blinding him as he looks at Jason. No light, no fire, nothing bright. A burnt out match, a dying star, beyond its flickering stage, is all he can see anymore.

And it’s all his fault. If only he had been more careful, if only he had been a better father, then… then Jason would still have something left to give. Not everything would’ve been taken from him like this.

𖦹

The Diamond Agency is booming. Models kill themselves over their work, trying to achieve the perfection Red Diamond achieved, and throw themselves at Roman’s feet for opportunities in the business. Roman has to pay quite a lot of money to make sure his models’ frequent visits to the hospital are kept quiet, every new employee has to sign an NDA so they don’t speak of what happens behind the curtains—whether it be Roman’s own conduct or the models sabotaging each other (or directly fighting with such conviction the fights rarely end before one person stops moving).

On the surface, Roman is glad, and Bruce hitting him has only brought more business his way, but… something is missing. Red is missing. If only that stupid bitch hadn’t changed beyond recognition, hadn’t lost his spark, then at least Roman could’ve killed him and have his closure. Surely he wouldn’t miss him then, if the relationship ended the way it was supposed to.

None of those vapid and weak models fill the space Red left. They all can’t handle anything long enough, they all whine and complain so much, ending up at the hospital because they’re ’starving’ or ‘burning out’ in weeks while it took Red seven years to get tired. Like Ruby for example, who has fainted for the fifth time this week and is now at the hospital. It’s pathetic. Red never ended up at the hospital, if he had big troubles he’d handle them and cope, not crash out. It wasn’t Red at the end of their relationship, that’s why it failed, that’s why he failed, he lost sense of who he was, became a frail mess and therefore had to be thrown out like the common trash he turned into.

Knowing Red is being such a burden to his enemy does lighten his mood, to know he has caused enough damage to have Wayne break character in front of a crowd has him feeling quite proud of himself. When he threw Jason out he had no idea who would put their hands on him first and he couldn’t care less, but now that he sees this outcome he’s glad Wayne was the one to find him. Jason’s state has broken the minds of at the very least Wayne and his oldest, and he himself still has all the power over Jason. The dumb thing must be completely broken now, in a worse state than any models under his employ. Rejection does more damage to someone like Red than a head injury or kidney failure does to a normal person, the boy will never recover from it nor will he try to.

He’s as good as dead.

Chapter Text

Dick looks down at the net, heart tight and racing. One hand on the trapeze and one hand on the metal bar on the platform, he prepares himself to jump, but changes his mind at the last minute and simply lets go of the trapeze. It swings forward, he stays standing there. It swings back towards him, he stays standing there. It swings forward again, he stays standing there. It swings back towards him again, he starts to cry.

𖦹

Alfred comes into Jason’s room with the boy’s favourite tea, sets it down on the nightstand. He opens his mouth to speak to him, to tell him he got it at the exact same grocery store Jason used to steal it from as a kid, but not a word comes out. He sits by his side for the entire afternoon, the tea quickly growing cold, and leaves with it as the sky outside darkens. As the tea spills down the drain, so do his tears.

𖦹

Barbara exhausts herself training harder and making the Clock Tower safer. Sore and brain overwhelmed by fog, she keeps working anyway so that she can next time be there to defend Jason and keep him safe in her home. Her sorrow is far, the anger taking too much space to let it come closer, but sometimes in the middle of the night it finds her anyway.

𖦹

Bruce spends hours each night stalking Sionis, keeps a list of all his employees and keeps trying to interrogate them but they stay silent. Even the ones who end up in the hospital refuse to say why they’re there. They seem afraid of him, afraid of Batman, more than they are afraid of what sent them in the hospital in the first place, which he easily deduces is Roman’s techniques to get others to achieve so called perfection—whether that be a beating, starving or whatever else sick twisted games he forces others to play in. Of course with Red’s legacy it’s easy to build a business around it, easy to manipulate young ambitious people into throwing their lives away to the man that made the Red Diamond; it’s the perfect cage to trap new victims for Sionis now that his star is gone. An unlimited supply of naive people willing to go through hell if it means they can be like Red.

“I can protect you,” he tells Ruby, moonlight flooding the hospital room.

“From what?”

“Sionis.”

“Are you kidding me? He’s the one that’s giving me everything I could ever dream of. Why would anyone think I’d need protection? Why do you even care about this, don’t you have criminals to beat up?”

It always goes like that. He’s sick of it. He didn’t even get anything from Roman’s phone at the Halloween Ball, he has absolutely nothing to build a case. Nothing to give Jason some Justice.

When he gets back to the cave at the end of the night he relives his frustration in the training room until he completely exhausts himself, until his knuckles bleed and his muscles are beyond the point of burning.

As the anger is forced to fade and leave place to what’s behind it, he forces himself to keep it buried.

He has no right to be sad. He has no right to grieve what he has caused to be lost.

𖦹

Winter passes by slowly. The days drag on endlessly, the nights overstay their welcome. Silence fills the manor, the cold seeps through the walls like spectres, all the death in the season promised rebirth seeming like a mockery, like it’s taunting them. Flowers will bloom again, birds will sing again, trees will keep growing, this is all just a simple phase, not an end.

There’s still a future left for the world. But not for everyone in it.

“I can do my own stunts,” Jason told Roman one day of filming.

“That doesn’t mean you should, Red.”

“This one isn’t even dangerous, I’ll land on a mat, it’s useless to bring in the double.”

“It’s my decision to make, and I don’t want you to risk it. You’re not doing acrobatics ever again. That’s final.”

Jason sighed softly. “Fine, fine. Sorry.”

Roman never liked him doing anything remotely similar to what he used to do as a vigilante. He wanted a clear cut between then and now, didn’t want Jason to remember he could still do what he used to do. There was no beauty, no grace in vigilantism. Red Diamond does not do anything that isn’t elegant. Red Diamond does not do stunts. Red Diamond is not Red Hood.

So he didn’t do the stunts in the movie. He let the stunt double that Roman complained about do it for him.

And Roman was right because everything was always so perfect in the audience’s eyes. Maybe that would’ve been different if he did do his own stunts. He learned to trust Roman’s judgment a while ago, he doesn’t question it anymore. He just thought it’d be fun to do the falling stunt but he’s never going to ask again, it’s not worth it, he doesn’t want to get Roman angry with him over something so irrelevant like that.

“You know you’ll have me think you’re starting to miss your old life,” Roman told him that same night as they got ready for bed.

“What? No, never,” Jason was quick to defend, honest. “I would never want to go back to that. I promise. I really just thought it’d be fun, I hadn’t seen it as anything like what I used to do.”

His lover looked into his eyes, searching for a sigh of dishonesty. “Good, then.”

“I don’t want to go back to that,” he insisted because he could still feel some hostility in the air. “I hated being a vigilante, and I don’t want to be anywhere near the people I used to be close to for any reason other than public image. I’m happy with you, I couldn’t ask for a better life. You made me a star, you’ve given me more than I could ever ask for.” He stepped towards him, took his hands in his, and smiled softly. “A life different than the one you’ve given me is not a life I would want to live.”

Roman smiled back, kissed him.

Everything was so good back then. So simple and warm.

They moved in sync not just in front of a crowd but at home too. They were always connected in some way, it wasn’t just a rehearsed trick for the audience. Their walking pace would sync by itself, where they looked, how they leaned onto each other, how they smiled and every other little movement, always at the same time. Like they were constantly dancing, speaking to each other with their bodies, fitting together perfectly. It was easy to forget it actually was practiced at first, he forgot Roman trained him whether he knew it or not to always follow him, to always let himself be led and flow along with his movements, because at some point it truly did become natural. His entire existence became a flourish on Roman’s life, a perfectly tuned instrument that harmonized with him effortlessly.

Sometimes they did actually dance during events, and Red’s grace and agility supported by Roman’s strength and stability often ended up turning into shows where everyone stopped to watch instead of dancing themselves. They would take over the dance floor, the only time Jason was ever allowed to do anything close to acrobatics. He had to outshine everyone, therefore he learned hard routines and demanding moves, always giving a show with more flair than anyone could ever expect, always surpassing expectations. He did enjoy it, especially since he only ever danced with Roman, but they did it so rarely as to keep the novelty of it. Roman didn’t want people to get used to it, to start seeing it as normal. It was always a surprise and never upon request, Jason himself didn’t know whether he’d be dancing or not until Roman would invite him along.

He should’ve told Roman about aerials. It would’ve been so perfect, he could’ve stood out even more by doing lyra as a specialty, if it had been incorporated in his content or even turned into live shows. He just didn’t think of it, he had buried that passion so deep and to move on from the past meant he moved on from that too, he never allowed himself to yearn but he should’ve because Roman would’ve loved it for sure.
It would’ve been hard but so worth it, he could’ve elevated his star status quite literally with it.

Above the crowd, flying, shining brightly…

Though perhaps Roman would’ve been jealous of all the bruises, and maybe wouldn’t have enjoyed the blisters turning into callouses on his palms, but that wouldn’t have been deal breakers. The bruises are only because Roman wanted to always decide where Jason was hurt, so to have no complete control over it might have irked him at first, and the callouses could’ve been hidden, softened, concealed. It could’ve all worked out, and it could’ve made Roman so happy.

Red, a star, literally up in the air, above everyone else. Roman never would’ve gotten enough of it, and honestly neither would Jason. Doing something a bit more artistic than getting fucked raw in all kinds of positions would have been refreshing, not that he didn’t enjoy porn, just that it’s nice to diversify and explore more ways to make content that don’t rely solely on selling sex. It would’ve brought in more kinds of people, fans with different interests, and therefore more money and fame.

Maybe that would’ve given him an opportunity to branch out into more practices, like silks which he always wanted to try. He just never had the chance to before, but maybe Roman would have given him that. Maybe it would’ve unlocked so many doors, maybe it would’ve made Roman care about him more.

“Red, you know how much I hate repeating myself. Come on now.”

“I know, I’m sorry, just… I’ll be good in five minutes, I just need five minutes.” It was a hard day, and Roman was rough with him, he was struggling at the end of it. It was hard to remember Roman cared.

“That’s ridiculous. Just get yourself together already.”

He took in a deep breath, held it in, then let it out. Then did it again.
Roman gave him three chances, but as he failed to regain control over himself after three breaths, his lover slapped the discomfort out of him.

“Get back to work.”

And he did, since he had no other choice. But then at night, Roman held him and kissed him and touched him in all the right places, once again making it all so very worth it. Some days he needed to be pushed, the content he made requiring him to look tired or distressed from time to time, Roman only ever did it for his work, and it always served its purpose. His expressions always got a lot of attention, he’d be praised profusely on them whenever he met people familiar with his work.

“The face you make in the love letter picture? It keeps me up at night, if you know what I mean,” a wealthy fan once told him at an event, then turning towards Roman. “You’re a lucky man, Sionis.”

Roman looked back at him, smiling. “I am, aren’t I?”

He smiled in return, leaned in, parting his lips and playfully starting to make out with him as many curious eyes started to focus on them. He always loved it when Roman called himself lucky for having him, nothing made him feel like a prized possession more than that. To have questioned that so much, to have seen himself as lucky but wondering if Roman was lucky too, and then to be told so freely that he’s not the only one made happy by this relationship had his heart get so full of joy. It transpired in how they kissed, and of course their audience never got enough of it. They were used to seeing Red kissing sloppily, drooling, while in pain or crying in films, and seriously in videos he did with Roman, but not while smiling and playful, not with that kind of passion. Though his suffering is what made him successful, to see him be happy and frisky is what got people to stay interested for so long. It got them to not feel guilty in the slightest because clearly the star behind those hardcore scenes enjoyed his life and loved his manager greatly, so there was nothing wrong with getting off to his content.

There was a couple of years where even behind closed doors Jason kept selling the lie. He himself was genuinely happy most of the time and believed he had grown to enjoy certain parts of the job and became indifferent towards porn. That was before he made too many movies playing basically the same overly sexualized character, when he was still taking pleasure in the art of filmmaking. There was no pattern yet, and when it made itself known he managed to ignore it for a bit. But eventually his true feelings came to the surface, slowly, creeping up and up and up, taking over his mind.

He never liked it. He never wanted any of it. He never asked Roman to make him a star, to give him all of that. He just wanted a quiet, calm life with someone who wouldn’t abandon him. He just wanted to be loved.

Despite it, he stands by what he said. Though the life Roman has given him was not the one he envisioned for himself, a different one than that is not one he would want to live. He is Red Diamond, whether he likes it or not. He cannot be anyone else ever again. There’s no point in it. He has to be Red, as long as he lives he has to be Red.

Chapter Text

Dick jumps and lets out a short shout, startled out of his mind when Jason’s bedroom door opens just as he was about to open it. With everything so electric and everyone so on edge it’s easy to feel jumpy, and never in those past months has that happened.

“Oh, good,” Jason says upon seeing him. “Could you help me please? I can’t seem to find my clothes and I don’t want to keep borrowing from others.”

Dick stammers a lot, incapable of pushing a word out. Since October Jason has been catatonic, laying in bed staring at the ceiling, not speaking, not looking at them or what they showed him, not doing anything. And now he’s there, standing up straight, smiling softly and speaking softly, asking about clothes.

What is going on?

“I’m sorry if I offended, I just meant that I feel like I’m inconveniencing you by borrowing clothes, I think it would be better if I had my own, that’s all.”

Dick keeps stammering, staring at him, until finally he manages to push out “what are you doing out of bed?”

“About that… I am so sorry for the inconvenience, but I’m all better now. I won’t cause any problems anymore, I’ll stay out of your hair. Thank you for all of the kindness, for taking care of me, it was very gracious of you all.”

Okay, genuinely, what the fuck is happening? “Jason, you’re—“

“Please, I’m more comfortable being called Red.”

“I— what?”

“I understand I’ve been quite a mess lately, but I’m fine now. I admit I’ve lost the plot a little bit,” he smiles apologetically, “but I just don’t like being apart from Roman for so long. It makes me very anxious, and without my medication things have derailed, but really all is well now.”

Dick starts to stammer again. This is… overwhelming. He has no idea how to deal with this. But— “you know what? I’m bad with clothes stuff, why don’t I call Harley and she’ll help you with that?”

“Oh..? I know what I need, though, there’s no need to bother someone else.”

“No, really, I think she’ll be better for that, trust me.”

Jason considers him for a second. “… alright…”

“Great, so yeah, lemme just…” Dick takes his phone out, quickly clicks on Harley’s number while Jason keeps smiling politely, patiently waiting. “Hey,” he says when she picks up. “Uhhh… there’s, uh…. Jason needs some assistance with clothes and I, uh, I thought you’d be a better help than me.” A pause. “Yeah, he’s… he’s up.”

Jason looks down, ashamed.

“Okay, thanks, great, thank you.” He hangs up, looks back at his brother. “She’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

The youngest nods. “Are you sure she wasn’t bothered?”

“No, not at all. I think she’s glad you’re… awake.” He squints. “How are you feeling by the way? I mean… why are you up, what happened?”

“I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough, and I’d rather not be so out of my mind when Roman comes back for me.”

“When—“ Dick stops himself. He’s scared of setting him off, scared of saying anything, whether it be agreeing or reminding him of their reality. “I… are you hungry?”

“Well… I should probably gain back some weight, so I can make something, sure.”

“I don’t think— I— actually we should wait for Harley. So, uh, so she doesn’t feel left out.”

“Oh, alright, sure. Should we wait for her downstairs? Prepare some tea or—“

“I think it’s better if we wait in your room. I just… I think it’s best if we take it easy.”

“Okay,” the youngest replies a bit hesitantly. His legs are pretty tired just from standing, and he is a guest here, he’s not going to insist on trivial things.

They go in his bedroom, he sits at the desk. “Do you happen to have any cigarettes?”

“No, sorry. I can go get you some, though.”

“Oh, that’s very kind, I’d really appreciate it.”

“You’re okay being on your own for two minutes?”

“Of course.”

Dick considers him thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll be right back then.”

The second he’s out of the bedroom he grimaces, weirded out and confused and so very nervous.
He jogs downstairs to the cigarette reserve they have for Jason, then comes back quickly, his mind racing and making up all kinds of scenarios about what Jason might be doing to himself right now.

But when he comes back Jason is just sitting with his hands on his lap, like nothing is weird or wrong or strange or stressful.

“Here you go,” he says, lighting it for him.

“Thank you,” Jason replies still with a polite smile.

“So, uh, how are you feeling..?”

“I’m fine, really. And I’ll never be able to apologize enough for all the trouble I’ve caused, I am truly ashamed.”

“You don’t have to apologize, like, at all, that’s what family is for, you don’t have to be ashamed.”

Jason’s nose scrunches up, his brows furrowing.

“What? Are you okay? What is it?”

“Nothing, I don’t want to insult you especially since you’ve been so kind, it’s simply…. Roman is my family.”

“He’s your— but he—“ Again, he stops himself. He’s going to wait for Harley for stuff like that. He already fucked up enough at the Halloween Ball, he won’t fuck up again now.

Jason doesn’t insist but doesn’t take it back either. If he wasn’t a guest here and didn’t rely on their hospitality he would tell Dick to please move on and get over the past, but he doesn’t want to risk offending him.

Dick stares at him, trying to make sense of the situation, while the youngest focuses on his cigarette.

What is happening? Like, genuinely, what is going on? Why is Jason acting like— like Red after a four month long coma? Especially considering what put him into that coma? Why is he so relaxed and… still in ‘love’ with Roman like that?

Since Jason isn’t looking at him, he texts Harley to please hurry. This is freaking him out, he has no idea how to handle it and all he sees when he looks at his brother is that this is all his fault.
All of the progress he could’ve made this winter didn’t happen because Dick cared more about Jason’s opinion of him than Jason’s actual well being. And now Jason is… stuck in character..?
He hopes Harley will be there soon.

“Could you tell me the date, please?” Jason asks after a couple of minutes.

“I, uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea, I think we should wait for Harley.”

The youngest doesn’t insist despite wanting to. He’s not stupid, he knows Dick called Harley because he thinks he’s fragile and needs a professional, but really he’s fine. He would be a mess if Roman abandoned him but Roman is going to come back for him so there’s nothing to be concerned about.

They stay quiet until Harley arrives, simply because Jason doesn’t dare press one of his hosts and Dick is terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When she comes in, Dick perks up and sighs in relief. “Hey.”

“Hi, where’s— oh, hi, Jay. You look… surprisingly calm.” She smiles at him, turns to Dick. “I can take it from here, thanks for calling me.”

“Okay, should I— should I tell everyone?”

“Why don’t you go drink some water, take a moment for yourself first? I’ll take care of telling the others, just take it easy.”

Dick nods and leaves, well aware he must look very rattled right now and not opposed to taking a moment to get his thoughts in order.

“So, Jason—“

“Please, call me Red.”

She tilts her head. “Why?”

“I haven’t been Jason in years, I go by Red.”

“… oh.” Interesting. “So you’re… you’re a star again, is that it?”

“Yes.”

“So why are you here?”

“I’m waiting for Roman to come get me.”

“Why would he come get you? He broke up with you.”

“No, he gave me a lesson. I learned. Now he’ll come get me.”

“And how do you know that?”

“He told me.”

“When?”

“At the Halloween Ball.”

She takes a deep breath. “Okay, well, why were you completely catatonic in bed after?”

“He didn’t take me back right away, and I do have a tendency to react dramatically to things… I am sorry about that, but it won’t happen again. I’m better now, I know he’ll come for me.”

“Jason,” she sighs softly, kneeling down in front of him. “He’s not coming for you. He didn’t say anything about coming for you at the Halloween Ball. Your brain is reinventing what happened because it’s too hard to acknowledge the truth, but you can’t stay in denial like this.”

His hopeful expression does not change in the slightest. “He wouldn’t abandon me. He cares about me. I’m his diamond, his star.”

Okay. Maybe she should be careful, just for now, since he just woke up. She doesn’t want to shock him too much, but she can’t encourage his delusion either. “Why don’t we focus on what we can do now? Dick said you needed help with clothes.”

“Yes, I would like to have my own. I don’t like borrowing from others.”

“Great well we can arrange that pretty easily.”

He smiles. “Perfect, I can make you a list of what I need and where to get the pieces.”

That’s exactly what he does once she fetches him a pen and paper, writing down the basics of what Roman had him wear as well as he can remember.

“Oh. Those are all pretty expensive brands, right?” Harley asks when he gives her the list.

“Roman could afford it easily, if Bruce can’t, then…” he drags out and goes silent, a bit smugly.

Seeing him… flaunt about wealth is weird. That is in fact the character of Red, not Jason. “I’m sure Bruce will be happy to buy those for you, I’m simply asking because, well, do you really want to wear stuff like that?”

“Yes, of course. I’m not used to wearing such ill fitting clothes,” he says, looking down at himself, “I’d be more comfortable in clothes like those I have back home, especially since they’ll be my own.”

“If they’ll really help then fine. I’ll give the list to Bruce.” She folds it and puts it in her pocket. “Can you tell me a bit about how you’ve lived those past few months? I’m curious to know what you think about it.”

He diverts his gaze to the butt of his dead cigarette in the ashtray. “I’m embarrassed about it. That was no way to behave.”

“It was pretty normal considering what happened. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He scoffs. “Maybe for other people, but I shouldn’t have lost it the way I did. I should be better than that.”

“That’s no way to talk about yourself.”

“But it’s true. No wonder Roman left me here longer, he knows I have to get back to perfection before I can get back to him.”

“No matter how hard you work to get back to how you were before, Roman will not take you back. You’re going to kill yourself over a man that doesn’t value your life.”

“If he doesn’t value my life why should I care if I kill myself over him? He’s the one that gave my life value in the first place, none of you know how badly I was doing before he took me in, none of you know what it’s like to be a ghost out of his grave. Bruce killed Jason. Roman brought Red to life.”

“Then tell me. Tell me how you were before him, tell me why and how Bruce killed you.”

“That’s not the point, that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that I get back to my old self so not all of this was for nothing.”

“Jason. I’ve been there before, I know exactly what it’s like to think that someone you devoted your entire life to cares about you enough to come back once you’re not useful anymore, and I know that this kind of person never does come back, never changes or—“

“Don’t you dare compare Roman to him. He is nothing like that, and I have not gone through anything remotely similar to what you’ve gone through. I lo— I— I care about him, and he cares about me, I am happy with him, genuinely, I’ve never been that happy with anyone else and every single thing that could be perceived as ‘bad’ I deserved, not like you. So don’t compare them, don’t compare us, because it isn’t the same thing at all.”

Though he wouldn’t dare get mad at her, there is a glacial look in his eyes that shows that this is his limit; that he will defend Roman at the risk of being hostile towards her even if he doesn’t want to. His loyalty knows no bounds, his devotion inexhaustible. He will not let even Harley speak of him this way.

She understands where he’s coming from, she knows it’s a truth that’s hard to hear, but she’s not going to back down. She can’t be too confrontational, she has to resist the urge to be straightforward and call out Roman on everything he’s done, she knows at this stage Jason’s head is too buried in the sand to acknowledge the truth yet.

“So what now, then?” she asks to divert the conversation towards something more constructive. It’s important to figure out what he thinks has to happen.

“Now I train and get back to working on myself.”

“How?”

“I have to practice my cooking, eat better, work out, polish my new act, and it’s going to be quite easy without actual work, I’ll have so much time for all of it I’m sure I’ll be out of here quickly.”

She doesn’t really want to discourage him from doing those things on a base level, but she’ll have to curb his obsession and make sure he doesn’t make himself sick doing all of that, especially since he thinks it’ll allow him to get back to Roman. “Would you like to get back to Bab’s place for that?”

“No, it’s alright. Roman knows I’m here, and I am more used to a big place like this, I wouldn’t want to burden Barbara with unnecessary work.”

“That’s not really good reasons. You were more comfortable there, are you sure you don’t want to go back?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Not wanting to ignore his say, she doesn’t insist. “Alright. If you change your mind don’t be afraid to say so, okay?”

He shrugs. “Okay, sure.” He pauses. “Will I be allowed to leave my room or are you all going to run after me and lock me in here?”

“You’re free to walk around but you will be kept under watch. You came here begging to die, I’m not ready to have you roam without supervision.”

“I told you, I’m better now, I was just being dramatic before and I am sorry about that.”

“What exactly do you mean by dramatic? Because from everyone else’s point of view you reacted exactly like someone in your situation would.”

“How many times are people going to try having that conversation with me?” he sighs heavily. “I’m not explaining myself for this. No matter what you think I am, I know what’s real and I don’t care if you see me as some trapped animal because I know that’s not what I am.”

She frowns. “Who tried to have that conversation with you before?”

“It’s not important.”

“Then why did you bring it up?”

“Because it’s annoying, I’m sick of people choosing to see something else than what I am just to be different, I’m a star, I’m the finest meat on the menu, I’m the impossible standard. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Wow, alright. This is going to be a fucking challenge.

𖦹

Bruce makes it a priority to avoid Jason as much as possible, terrified of simply existing in the same room as him now that he’s awake. The guilt and simple fear that Jason loathes him keeps him away, he’s well aware Jason will never even be okay with his existence, and with what Harley explained about him being stuck in character and denial he thinks it’s just best to not cross his path.

He wants to, God only knows how much he wants to be with him like they used to be, but he doesn’t dare to.

Except that this morning, quite early, they meet in the kitchen by accident.

Jason does not flinch. Does not get mad or scared.

He just… smiles. Smiles like he smiled at him whenever they saw each other at public events.

Bruce freezes. Stares at him.

Jason squints, looks away, back to his bottled water he was taking from the fridge. But since Bruce keeps staring at him he starts to get worried he’s about to be yelled at, so he decides to justify himself. “I’m simply grabbing some water, I’m going to go work out, I’m not looking for knives or anything.”

The oldest keeps still and silent, and so Jason decides to just leave and get back to his things since this is getting weird.

Such an occurrence happens again a few days later, late at night they pass by each other in a corridor, Jason still offers him the same smile and Bruce still freezes.

The third time it happens is when Bruce finally manages to say something. “You— you’re— you’re looking better.”

“Thank you. I’m glad it shows.” He looks down at himself, smiling genuinely. “No matter what Harley says, I know I’ll be out of here soon enough.”

Next thing both of them know, Bruce starts crying.

“Uh…. Sorry..? It’s just… I have to get back home eventually,” the youngest says hesitantly.

“Hey, what’s—“

Upon seeing Dick come in the kitchen too, Bruce hurries to leave.

“Okay..? What happened here?”

“I have no idea,” Jason replies, pouring his smoothie into a glass. “You know how he is, though.”

Dick frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Jason looks away coyly. “You know… I don’t enjoy speaking ill of people, but he is a bit… unstable.”

Speaking with Jason lately is hard and not just because of the guilt. He adamantly refuses to drop the act, to stop pretending that he’s still Red Diamond, which makes him even less approachable than he was before the happenings at the Halloween Ball. Dick just doesn’t have a choice because Harley said they should not isolate him right now and should try to include him in their lives so he might feel at home here, and with Bruce not managing to do that Dick feels the responsibility falls mostly onto him, but this is… it’s painful.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for the bedroom and the clothes and the products, but,” he shrugs, “he is not someone who has much control over himself.”

“I mean… with everything going on, everyone’s a little bit on edge, I think it’s normal…”

Genuinely confused, Jason’s brows furrow as he looks back at Dick. “What’s going on?”

“Y-You, what— what you’re going through, what—“

The youngest rolls his eyes and sighs. “This again? I’m fine now, I’m sorry for how I was before but I will be out of your hair soon, I promise, I won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“That’s not what the problem is, we don’t—“ He clenches his jaw, searches for the right words. “We’re not excited for you to leave, that’s not what’s hard about this.”

“Then— no, never mind, this doesn’t matter in the end. I have things to do today, I’d rather focus on that.” He walks off with his smoothie, without according Dick another glance.

Dick pinches his lips together, sighs.

He has no idea how to interact with him. During social gatherings it was easier because they were both playing a role and it was under the guise of public appearances, but on some random Tuesday morning? With no one around, no guests, no event, no nothing? He’s not supposed to encourage Jason’s delusions, though they are supposed to let him choose who he wants to be they can’t let him lie to himself like this, it’s a hard line to walk, a hard position to be in.

Despite how difficult he finds this to be and how guilt keeps pressing down on his chest, he stays available and near the kitchen, knowing Jason will come back to cook himself lunch once he’s done working out. They don’t stop him from using the kitchen, they just surveil him and unlock the cabinets with the needed tools for him and stand back, making sure he does nothing bad to himself as he makes food. So far he hasn’t tried anything, though he does get frustrated a lot because he never makes anything meeting his own standards, constantly complaining about how he’s out of practice and needs to work on his presentation so he can offer Roman meals worthy to be eaten by him, which is hell to listen to.

Jason acting ‘put-together’ is a lot more unnerving than when he was messy and all over the place, it feels like they just lost all the progress he made even if now he’s actually eating, showering and doing physical exercise every day. Before at least he seemed human, now he’s acting like a self-erasing robot.

A few hours later the youngest comes searching for Dick, whom he finds easily. “I would like to use the kitchen.”

The oldest of the two nods and gets up, hides how he dreads this part. “What are you gonna make?”

“Pasta with chicken and eggs.”

“Sounds good.”

“Probably won’t be…”

Dick unlocks the right cabinets and drawers for him, tries to be encouraging but Jason is set on hating whatever he makes.

“You don’t have the standards of a refined man, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jason, literally nothing you ever made has tasted bad.”

“You eat fast food. Why should I care about your opinion?”

“You used to love fast food too.”

“Yes and I used to believe in heroes and villains, things change.”

“Jason—“

“Please stop calling me that. My name is Red.”

Dick swallows a sigh. “I’m just saying you’re being too hard on yourself.”

“How do you think I’ve achieved the level of fame and success I have? Do you really believe I could be perfect by settling for mediocre things?”

It takes everything out of Dick to not start ripping his own hair out. “No one’s asking you to be perfect..!”

“Roman is.”

“He left you, he doesn’t ask that of you now!”

“It’s okay if you’re jealous, I mean, everyone thought you’d be the great star and look at you now. Still stuck here, living in Bruce’s shadow, known only in Gotham and only because you’re Bruce’s son. I’d be jealous too if I were you.”

Dick stammers, gives up. He’s about to start crying, he hates how mean Jason is and how fucking blind he is, hates that him being emotional will only make Jason feel justified even if that’s not at all what his held back tears mean.

They don’t exchange another word after that, though Jason keeps reprimanding himself and complaining about how badly he’s doing under his breath.

When he’s finished he goes to eat alone in the dining room while Dick washes the dishes for him, disappointed in himself for having made such an ordinary meal.

Chapter Text

Sarah is not doing well. Apparently she switched caretakers a few months ago because the usual woman’s son is in the hospital, and his cheetah has still not adapted to the change yet.

He watches her whenever he’s in his room, missing cuddling with her and visiting her in the middle of the night to watch her sleep, Micheal joining him in the winter, the two of them standing silently as she rested happily.

It pains him to see her like this, he wishes he could go see her, tell her he’s sorry and everything will be fine in the end, but he can’t go there and she wouldn’t understand a word he says anyway. Not only that but in her mind she surely thinks he abandoned her—which he did—so… would she even be happy to see him? Or would she bite him? Or worse, ignore him? Is it even his place anymore to try and bring her comfort? Is it better if he just stays away?

He massages his foot as he keeps staring at her through the screen.

Though he was comatose while his foot healed, it still hurts now that the cast is off, and lyra definitely doesn’t help. He sees it as karma for what he’s done to Sarah, he deserves this pain for what she’s forced to go through. If only he had been better, if he hadn’t failed so badly, she’d still be happy at home with him.

“Do you want me to get you some heat or ice?”

He looks at Barbara. He forgot she was there too. “No thanks.”

“Are you sure? If it hurts it’s better to take care of it correctly.”

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt that much.”

He feels her stare at him for a moment, but acts like he doesn’t.

“…. You know if you don’t take care of yourself you’ll never get better.”

He sighs. “I am getting better, this is nothing, it won’t stop me from being perfect.”

She looks at him again. He keeps ignoring it.

It’s easy to know they all hang out with him out of necessity and not by pleasure anymore. They liked him better when he was a poor little thing with a broken mind, but now that he remembers he’s a fucking star they let themselves be bothered by jealousy instead of being happy for him. Behaving like a victim supported their narrative of Roman being a bad person, they hate that he doesn’t act in a way that supports that anymore. He’d confront them about it if he wasn’t so tired, it’s really hard to work and occupy his days again without a special cigarette to give him a boost—he asked to be given those Roman handed him at the Ball but they refused, said that even if they tested them for something unsavoury and it came up clean they still threw them away.

Thinking back on that he tries not to get angry about it again, since they not only proved there was nothing wrong in the special cigarettes but also took them away from him when clearly Roman gave him those to help him get better.
Obviously they want him to be miserable but they could at least be subtle about it.

“Hey, guys,” Harley says as she comes in. “Sorry for not knocking, the tea is hot and I need to put it down quickly.” She hurries to set the mugs down on the nightstand and smiles at Jason. “How are you feeling?”

“Same as every time you ask.”

“Y’know, I’ve heard you tell Dick you were sick of being here earlier. That’s not very ‘I’m fine’ behaviour.”

“I am fine, as fine as I can be here. I’m sorry for having been rude, I already apologized to Dick, I just feel trapped here and I don’t like being away from Roman for so long,” he explains like he’s explained a thousand times before, so fucking tired of it.

“I’m not saying that to get you to stop complaining, I’m saying that to get you to stop lying. It’s okay if you’re not fine, no one’s gonna get mad or upset.”

“I am not lying, I am fine, why is it so hard to believe?”

“Because your ‘fine’ revolves all around the belief that Roman will come back for you, which he won’t.”

“Yes he will.”

Every day Harley debates whether or not she should have him listen to the recordings of the Halloween Ball and the news showing Roman bringing other people to events. It would force Jason to acknowledge the truth but in literally the worst way possible, she doesn’t want him to feel that kind of pain, she’d like that just for once he’d get a realization that doesn’t shatter his entire worldview.
This is all starting to really weigh on her, she feels awful for not having been there at the Ball, for not having some magic wand she can wave around to fix it all, for not having an easy way out to give Jason. She’s the most experienced person that could help him and yet he’s going through the same difficulties she went through when she was completely alone. “Jason, I—“

“I’m going back in the gym,” the youngest declares coldly, storming off.

𖦹

“Thanks,” he says as Alfred gives him a cup of tea, settling down together at the dinner table.

“How is your heart doing?”

“Better, the palpitations stopped.”

“Good.”

Alfred stares at him for a long moment, Jason stays quiet.

“You know, when you go for walks in the garden you could ask for some company. I’m sure we’d all love to walk with you.”

“It’s fine, I prefer walking alone.”

Another silence. “We all… we all have so much to say to you, my boy. If you’d give us a chance, we—“

“I’m sorry, but if this were true you’d have said those things to me a while ago. There’s nothing new to say, and I’m sure what weighs on your heart pertains to the person I used to be, not the person I am now, so I’d rather we avoid such conversations.”

An even longer and heavier silence.

Jason sips his tea, doesn’t make eye contact with Alfred who is still staring at him.

“What have you done with your rosary..? Do you still have it?”

Now he does make eye contact, brows furrowed slightly. “I gave it back to the church I got it from.”

“What?”

“I gave it back,” he repeats without a hint of emotion. “I came to say goodbye here, then I went to say goodbye at the church. Since then I’ve only ever been Red, I left Jason behind for good, like you all should.”

He watches Alfred’s expression decompose, until tears well up in his eyes.

Alfred leaves the table, and Jason sighs.

Why do people keep crying when they speak to him? Surely he’s not being that rude, he is careful to stay nice since they’re his hosts, therefore it’s them that are all being emotionally unstable and projecting whatever issues they have onto him.

For a moment he has some peace, he drinks his tea in a comfortable silence, alone with his thoughts and excited about the day Roman will come back to get him.

He’s gaining back muscle, his skin is healing, his hair is curling by itself again, all that he might need to train once he is home is his body, since he can’t really partake in the physical activities he used to do every day as a porn star, but he’s sure Roman will be glad to help him get back to that level.

“Did you just make Alfred cry?”

He turns, sees Dick walk in the dining room. “I didn’t mean to, I apologize.”

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, I simply answered a question, I didn’t insult him.”

“What was the question?”

“He asked me what I did with the rosary. I said I gave it back to the church, that’s it.”

Dick looks at him, eyes wide. “You what?”

“Why is that such a big deal? Why does it matter?”

“I— are you— you know what? You can be mean to me, you can act like Red with me, but with Alfred? Are you kidding me? Don’t you remember everything he did for you? How much he cared for you?”

“I am not acting like Red, I am Red.”

“Seriously? That’s what you’re taking away from what I just said?”

“Listen, I really didn’t mean to be hurtful. I gave the rosary back so I could move on, so I wouldn’t feel tied to my past. It was important for me, I’m sorry if it makes you sad or angry but it was necessary. But next time one of you asks me a question like this I’ll know it’s better to lie since you all believe I’m such a despicable person for doing what’s necessary to survive a life like the one I had,” he slips up, using too truthful wording, but not realizing it. It really was about survival, he could not have made it this far if he hadn’t said his goodbyes, but he’s so fed up right now he doesn’t realize how transparent he’s just been.

“Survive?”

“Yes, survive, do you think it was easy? Being two people at once? That’s why I buried the past, Jason could not have survived stardom but Red was born for it, that’s why I put it all behind me, god,” he lets out a frustrated sigh and gets up. “Being with someone like Roman doesn’t come without sacrifices. And I’d do it all the same way if I started over again.” On that he storms out, heart beating hard and fast in his chest.

It’s like they misinterpret everything on purpose, it’s so fucking tiring. It’s not that he wanted to become Red, it’s that he had no choice. It was the only way Roman would ever care for him. And he’s glad he did that, he’s glad he gave up on the past because clearly people who don’t do that become irrational and delusional.

𖦹

After looking for Bruce all over the manor, Jason has to resort to going down in the batcave. He doesn’t want to go down there, he’s scared of being trapped, or of giving off the impression that he wants to become a vigilante again, but he needs to talk to Bruce about his upcoming anniversary.

He’s about to call out for him when he gets distracted by what’s on the Batcomputer screen.

At first he just sees Roman. The sight floods him with a happy warmth, he smiles lovingly. But then something else catches his eye. Someone else.

Why is… why is Roman letting some random guy hold him by the bicep like that..? Why—

Is that his plus-one?

No, no, no, it’s— it’s fine. It’d be unfair of Jason to expect Roman to be lonely for almost a whole year. Roman needs companionship, it’s normal, it’s not even— it’s not even like this is the first time this happened. Roman would have sex with others when Jason was too depressed or injured at the start of their relationship. It’s not that Roman doesn’t like him, it’s just that he needs intercourse regularly.

This isn’t betrayal.

Jason takes a deep breath, calms down.

No matter how it hurts, it isn’t betrayal.

Roman will still come back for him.

“Excuse me, Bruce,” he finally calls out.

His host jumps, turns all the screens off and scrambles off his chair. “Jason? What— what— why are you here? Did you— are you—“

“I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to speak about my anniversary.”

“What?”

“My anniversary, it’s coming up, and obviously that’s when Roman will come pick me up. So I wanted to talk logistics.”

“You’re—“ Bruce looks back at the turned off screens for a second. “Jason—“

“Yes, I saw, no I don’t care,” the youngest decides to put it out there so hopefully Bruce will start communicating like a normal person. “I’ve made a living out of sleeping with other people, I think he’s allowed to bring a plus one to events when I’m unavailable.”

For a moment, Bruce stares at him, confused, shocked, and Jason lets him have this moment without adding anything because he’s used to those weird silences at this point.

“Why do you want to talk about your anniversary,” the oldest finally asks, his voice cracked and unassured.

“Because obviously that’s when Roman will come pick me up and I want to make sure you’ll all treat him decently and let me leave with him.”

“I— have you talked to Harley about this..?”

“This is your place, I figured I’d best speak to you about it.”

Again, Bruce stares at him for a moment, having no idea what to say. “I— I think you should talk to Harley about this first.”

“Why? She doesn’t even think Roman will be there, it’s useless to ask her.”

“She would know, wouldn’t she..? Why don’t you believe her..?”

Jason sighs loudly. “You know what? I know you register everything, I know you have what he said to me at the Ball on that computer of yours, so play it, he literally tells me he’ll come back for me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea—“

“Play it,” Jason demands loudly.

But Bruce stays still.

“Fine, I’ll do it myself then.” He walks towards the desk, goes to turn it back on but Bruce finally complies.

“I’ll do it, just please, let me do it.”

The youngest rolls his eyes, steps back.

The second the screens turn back on Bruce hurries to close all the windows before Jason can see them, not wanting him to see all the research he’s been doing on Roman to find something that can be used against him.

Reluctantly but afraid of what Jason will resort to so he’ll be listened to, the oldest pulls up the audio and visual recording of when Jason and Roman were in the garden.

Jason starts off with his arms crossed, confident, but the more the recording advances the more his expression turns grim. “You tampered with it,” he accuses Bruce as it still plays. “It was edited, modified, it—“

“No, that’s what really happened. I’m sorry, I—“

“Why do you keep lying to me?! I fucking hate you, I can’t wait until I’m out of this fucking hellhole!” On that he runs out, hurries to hide in his room so he can be left alone as Roman’s fake voice echoes in his head.
As if Roman would ever say such things to him, as if Roman would just abandon him like that.

It’s fucking stupid, the lengths they’ll go to just to break him, he can’t believe they’d ever stoop so low. They’re the most pathetic people he’s ever met, more pathetic than his disgusting fans, more pathetic than those who think they have a chance with him, more pathetic than anyone else that’s ever dared to speak badly of Roman.

But of course as any other time he’s a bit more emotional he cannot be left alone, they just have to disturb him, Bruce coming in running, out of breath. “I’m sorry,” he pants.

“Leave me alone! I can’t fucking be here anymore, I can’t stand your fucking lies!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t leave you alone right now, I’m sorry, I can— I can call someone else, I can call Harley, I—“

“I don’t want someone else! Why are you so obsessed with me, why are you doing this to me?! Haven’t I given you enough, didn’t I give you my life already?! Why do you need to take this from me too, why can’t you just let me be happy?! Why was I not enough for you,” his voice starts to crack, decreasing in anger and intensity, showing what’s really underneath as he’s hit by the same wave of self awareness he was hit by when he broke down with Roman, “why didn’t you come back for me..?”

Bruce freezes, watches Jason’s eyes become wet and red, his arms lowering, his tone softening.

“Why didn’t you come back for me?” he asks again brokenly. “I thought you loved me. But you just— you left… and now look at me…”

They both look down at his body, lumps in their throats.

“… I’m just rotten meat now…”

“Jason,” Bruce breathes out painfully. “I’m sorry, I…”

“You had your chance,” the youngest says, closing back up. “It’s too late now. You made your choice and I made mine. But I will not be left behind again, I will not be treated like an expendable toy. Just because you didn’t come for me doesn’t mean he won’t.” He turns back around, looks out the window. “I’m a star,” he says more to himself than to Bruce. “I will not be forgotten again.”

𖦹

At five in the morning on the day of his stardom anniversary, Jason is ready by the door, heart racing excitedly in his chest.

He gained back enough muscle and weight, he’s good at lyra enough to show off, he’s ready to go back to work.
He hasn’t packed anything, but he does have his hoop with him since it’s the only thing he has here that’s worth bringing back home.
Because it’s heavy he holds it as it rests against the floor, stays standing in front of the door.

He thought of re-taping his lyra in red instead of black before today, but then realized it wouldn’t look good if he were to wear red too; it’d be too much and would take the attention off of him.
Maybe Roman will get him a gold hoop and they won’t tape it, though he’ll have to get used to that difference before showing it to others.

He’s so excited, that’s definitely why his heart is racing and his hands are shaking.

Roman is going to come for him. There is no doubt about it.

He’s not going to get left behind again.

“Poor thing, did you think I had left without you?” Roman asked him a bit condescendingly as he tried to hold back his panicked tears.

“I just— I thought— I’m sorry, I lost sight of you for too long and I— I dunno, I started spiralling, I’m sorry, I—“

“It’s alright, doll. I’m with you now. I didn’t leave you.” Roman stroked his cheek so gently, so lovingly. “I wouldn’t leave my little diamond behind.”

He tries not to think of the arm candy he saw Roman with on the batcomputer screen.

“You know I’d never betray you, dear. I’m not like the other men in your life.”

At six o’clock his foot is already very painful to stand on. He shifts his weight on the other.

“Come on, I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that badly. It’s simply a little ache, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

No one intervenes, no one even passes by the entrance. This is the only way he’s going to understand the truth.

When noon comes around, he does not get asked about his lunch. He stays alone, at the door, standing, waiting.

“If you’re not patient, good things will be rushed. Relax, enjoy it, don’t spoil it by being too eager.”

Roman likes to make him wait. To have him get all worked up, to force him to stay composed. So it’s normal that he’s not there yet.

The more he waits the better it’ll feel to see him.

His foot is really starting to hurt.

“Stop complaining about the pain, if I hear you mention it again you’re sleeping in the basement.”

Roman is going to come for him. Roman cares about him. He… he cares about him. He has to.

“Sometimes you act like you want to be replaced. Come on, get up. I won’t ask again.”

He forces himself to smile through the pain, ignore how his eyes are burning.

The sun isn’t shining brightly outside. It’s going down in the sky.

Maybe Roman knows he’s already dressed up, though he’s definitely not wearing something as special as the years before.

“You’re not going outside looking like this, Red. You’re not street trash anymore.”

Or it could be traffic. Sionis Manor is in the city, Wayne Manor is not. So… it could just be traffic. Or a rogue blew up a building and it’s fucking it all up.

Roman is… Roman is coming for him.

“I’m not coming to get you, Red, this is your work whether I’m here or not, if the director is too handsy just remind him who you belong to. I’m busy, I can’t come unless it’s actually serious.”

It’s starting to get dark outside. At that time he’s normally getting ready with Roman.

Maybe… maybe he got the date wrong. It’s not like he was in charge of his schedule, like he remembers every date for every celebration. As he’s shown countless times already he’s quite disorganized without Roman.

Therefore he doesn’t get crushed by despair as more time passes. As the first hour of the celebration starts.

Roman’ll be there… won’t he..?

It’s not too late. Maybe it’s really just not today, maybe he was wrong about the date.

Because surely Roman will… Roman will come back for him…

He cannot be abandoned again, he cannot be left behind, he can’t… he won’t survive it. After giving everything he had to Roman, he… he needs to be cared for even if he knows it’s selfish, he just… he needs Roman, he needs Roman to come for him.

All of those years, it was an unspoken truth; Roman would kill him when he’d have nothing left to give. Roman did not kill him, therefore it’s not over yet.

“You’re not mine to kill anymore, Red. You lost your worth, I don’t want to kill an insignificant little whore. You took that from me, you became something not worth the effort, you robbed me of your life. For that, your punishment is to live as the defective toy you’ve become. I won’t give you the easy way out, you are not the star I made and devoted myself to.”

But Roman didn’t really say that. He couldn’t. Not after everything. Roman understood, Roman gave him a lesson. Jason learned. He’ll be good now, he won’t fail again.

Hours pass.

It is completely silent in the manor, but not in his head.

Memories keep swarming his mind, as warmth slowly leaves his body.

“People who let love dictate what they do are weak.”

That was never about him. Roman has not been insulting him since the start. For him it’s more than love, it’s devotion. Roman respected that of him.

…. Right..?

“You’re a stupid and useless bitch.”

Is he… is he coming for him..?

“Jason?” A voice coming not from his own head startles him. He turns his head. “Jason, it’s midnight.”

He looks at Harley, eyes wet and burning. “I— I think I got the date wrong,” he chokes out.

She shakes her head softly. “It was today. Your party is now a memorial, he did it without you. I’m sorry.”

Slowly, his expression deteriorates, turns into a grimace as tears finally pour.

Roman didn’t come for him.

He lets go of his hoop. It clatters loudly against the floor, but he doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear anything but an intense ringing.

Crumbling, he grabs Harley for safety. Throws himself in her arms, hoping to vanish.

She puts her arms around him, holds him closely and tightly.

She’s not warm like Roman. Nothing is. Not inside a coffin. And that’s what he’s inside of now.

His body—his coffin. His heart—his cadaver.

Awake, stuck, screaming in it, but he can’t dig his way out, and no one will save him.

Roman left him.

Chapter Text

The Winner Takes It All blasts through the speakers in Jason’s room while Harley and Barbara eat together, a defeated air over both of them.

Jason moved back here after the whole anniversary thing—he didn’t ask but they deemed it better to bring him back here and he is more comfortable here than he was at the manor, and it’s not like he opposed it when they moved him.
Whenever he speaks to them he just asks them why they didn’t tell him, why they let him hope, even though they tried repeatedly to make him understand his reality. He doesn’t let himself be touched, doesn’t do anything but cry and listen to the same three songs all day, sometimes on speakers and sometimes with headphones.

He hasn’t spoken to Bruce, Dick or Alfred since, barely spoke a word to Barbara. Harley is the person he talks to the most and it really is just to ask her why she didn’t tell him Roman wouldn’t come.

They invited Jason to eat with them but he refused, and has since been playing his music at max volume with his bedroom door closed.

“It wakes me up at night sometimes, it startles the shit out of me,” Barbara tells Harley. “I don’t think he’s doing it on purpose, though, I think he’s not even aware of how loud it is.”

Harley nods. “I definitely don’t think it’s malicious either. He’d be playing something else otherwise. I think it could be a cry for help, he wants to be listened to, but he doesn’t communicate, so… I dunno, I’m…” She sighs. “I can’t get him to talk about it.” She pauses. “I can’t really tell you to sleep with earplugs or to pad your walls ‘cause you do need to hear if he’s in distress, so… I’m sorry, I wish there was a solution for that.”

“Well it’s gonna stop at some point, right? And it is better than waking up from nightmares…”

They exchange a dejected look.

“I’ll go check up on him again before I go,” Harley says when they’re finished.

But in his room, he doesn’t answer her, keeps staring ahead with tears streaming down his face.

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” she says over the music. “You don’t have to be scared, I’m here to listen.”

Nothing. Not even a look this time.

“Okay, well I’ll be back tomorrow, and Barbara is always there if you decide to talk.” She offers him a gentle smile and leaves, shakes her head to Barbara before she even asks if he said something.

That night, Barbara works while faintly hearing the same song play.

“How is he?” Bruce asks weakly when they connect on the comms.

“No change.”

A guilty silence takes place, before everyone disconnects.

Barbara sighs, leans her face into her hands.

It’s hard to have hope at this point. Roman completely destroyed Jason, even now that they’re so very clearly broken up the Crime Lord’s hold on him is infrangible. Sure Harley made it out, but… she had anger to carry her through, and she wanted to move on. Jason is incapable of being angry at Roman even now, and has done nothing but refusing to see his life as anything else than a property of Roman.

He doesn’t even smoke anymore, not that she knows why but it’s because he wants to feel the craving and longing as deeply as he can, he wants to make sure his body knows it is missing something crucial and never feels appeased ever again.

Bruce and Dick only connect over the comms when they need something—which they rarely do. They’re all very keen on working separately, still struggling with blame and guilt since the Ball, too tense around each other to speak like they used to even for work purposes.
Dick doesn’t even open up to Harley anymore, he doesn’t feel like he has a right to even if ever night he has nightmares about holding down Jason the way he did the night of the Ball, about how he cannot get his brother’s terrified expression out of his mind, about what Roman said about him. He wishes he had killed Roman there and then. He should’ve done it. Roman will never see the inside of a prison, he’ll never suffer for what he’s done, and Bruce punching him only made people like him more. The only real way to make sure Roman stops hurting people and does not have the capacity to hurt Jason any further is to kill him. This isn’t even just about revenge, it’s about preventing other horrible things from happening. Roman will never stop hurting others, his whole agency is built on people’s suffering, every week a model of his ends up at the hospital, this cannot go on, whether he hurts Jason again or not.

For those past months he’s been thinking about it in a concrete manner. Considering the possibilities, the consequences, how he’d do it, how he’d accept whatever would come after. Often he’s found himself stalking the Crime Lord at night, but something has always stopped him from actually taking action.

He’s just… the only consequence he cannot bear is that Jason would never forgive him for it. He can already imagine the pure hatred in his brother’s eyes, his refusal to ever speak or even look at him ever again, how he would carry that hate forever and never allow Dick to explain himself. He wants to have a relationship with his brother again, he cannot believe he keeps getting chances but fails every time to come in his life as real family, he won’t ruin it another time.

But… someone needs to do something about Roman. Bruce won’t do it, Barbara’s too busy taking care of Jason and so is Harley, Tim won’t do it either, so… if falls to him. Only he can do something to make sure Justice is served.

𖦹

Jason is once again blasting the same song on repeat, and Barbara once again has no idea whether it’s him asking for attention or wanting to drown out the rest of the world so he can be alone with his thoughts.

Worried since she already feels on thin ice with him, she doesn’t dare intrude. She would give it a try if she didn’t think he hated her, it’s too important right now that he doesn’t see everyone as an enemy especially not the person he’s living with. She has to stay at the very least neutral in his mind because otherwise he’d refuse to eat 24/7 and would be too hostile for his own good.

She does some chores and naps for a little while—it’s a lot easier to sleep when the music is already playing—and later prepares some simple food for Jason with a side of vitamin gummies.
She waits until the music stops to bring it to him, also bringing a blanket because Jason’s only other words are complaints about being cold.

As she comes in he looks over at her, she smiles softly and approaches, putting the plate of celery and carrots on the nightstand, and the folded blanket on the foot of the bed.

“Do you have some water left?” She shakes his bottle. It’s half full. “I’ll go refill it while I’m here, okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, simply watches her leave the room, curled up in his bed, adding the new blanket to his mountain over himself once she’s gone.

His body is overheating but inside he’s still so constantly cold, no amount of layers he puts on manage to warm him up. Without Roman, he’s just… he’s cold. All the time. There’s no sun anymore, no heat, no nothing. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t died of hypothermia already.

When Barbara comes back, she puts his bottle on the nightstand and looks him over. “Do you want me to stay?”

She takes it as a ‘no’ when he starts to play his music again, and so she leaves him alone despite every inch of her telling her to stay by his side. For him the breakup only now became official, and it’s normal if he wants a lot of time by himself where he can process what happened, she really doesn’t want to intrude but she also wants him to know she’s always going to be by his side.

If only he’d communicate more clearly, but… obviously it’s going to be hard for him to do that, more than it’s already been. It’s not like he’s been listened to those past ten years so of course communication is a struggle, even more so now that he’s heartbroken and dealing with the aftermath of an abusive relationship.
It shatters her to see him like this, she keeps thinking about how much has been taken from him, how it could have all been avoided only if they had not been so scared of going to him after he came back. One single action could’ve changed everything, lending a hand could’ve saved him. But because they didn’t, Jason is suffering, has suffered, and never will fully heal from all of this. He’ll always carry that pain with him, the trauma will never leave him. He already had enough before, he didn’t need this hell on top of everything else, he didn’t deserve to live tragedy after tragedy. What he went through as a kid was already too much, but then his death, everything that happened as he came back, dealing with another mother’s death, his showdown with Bruce, then getting stuck in a relationship with Roman and it becoming public, being turned into a porn star against his will, the cocaine addiction he’s still in denial about… it never ends. The list is too long, the suffering too great, and besides staying by his side when it’s all done already, they cannot do a single thing about it.

Not Bruce, not Dick, not Tim, not her are able to find enough on Roman to have him convicted, to have Justice served. They can’t use Jason either, they can’t do that to him and he would never even say a word against Roman, plus they have no proof that his career as a porn star was exploitation and abuse. Jason himself would never call it that, when Bruce tried to tell him when Jason was still in the thick of it Jason just laughed at him and told him he was taking the title of his films too seriously. When they tried again once he ended up here, he didn’t laugh but said the same thing. His opinion on that is not budging, at least not for a long while, and even if it does she doubts Jason would ever admit it.

She lets out a long, deep sigh.

This is hopeless.

𖦹

“How is he?”

“He’s still sick. I have no idea how he got it, and it’s making him a bit delirious.”

“Do you need assistance?”

“For now it’s manageable.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Harley is helping out too, we’re good. Adding more stimuli will make it worse.”

A beat of silence. “Understood.” Then the small beep of disconnection.

Later, when she’s done with her work for the night, she goes to check up on Jason before going to bed.

“I can’t be sick,” the youngest whines nasally. “I can’t be sick, I have to work…”

“You don’t have to work anymore, you can rest, okay? There’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”

“No, you don’t get it, I can’t be sick, he’ll be angry, he doesn’t want me to be sick, I can’t,” he sniffles, “I can’t miss work, I can’t take time off.”

“You’re not missing any work, Jason. There’s nothing on your schedule. You can take some medication and go to sleep, okay?”

He relaxes a little bit. “You have my medication? For my head?”

Assuming he means normal medication for a headache, she nods. “Yeah, here, you can take two.” It’s not the first time he’s reacted like that, he’s been sick for the past two days and whenever she offers him medicine he reacts like that, she thinks it’s simply because he has very bad headaches and gets eager to have some relief.

“Two?” He grabs the pills she’s handing him, swallows them after straightening up enough to take a sip of water with them. “I haven’t had those in years,” he mumbles as he lays back down.

He keeps saying that, it worries Barbara since she gave him some yesterday and the day before, his delirium seeming to be quite intense and confusing him a lot. Harley will be there in the day, maybe she’ll have better luck helping Jason stay connected at least a little bit to reality, for now Barbara can’t do much but make sure he falls asleep before she herself goes to bed.

Since Jason is sick he doesn’t play music anymore, so she gets to fall asleep more quickly and actually stay asleep longer than usual.

Harley is careful when she gets to the Clock Tower, aware Barbara is catching up on her sleep and that Jason needs to rest a lot, she doesn’t make a noise as she puts some food, drinks and meds away before settling in the living room, careful to listen so if Jason gets a coughing fit or simply starts crying she’ll be able to immediately hear and intervene.

It happens to some people; that they get so determined and focused they don’t get sick, which is probably what has happened to Jason for the entirety of his career. He was too busy to fall ill, he simply did not have the option to catch something, and now that it’s all over his body is making up for years of being stuck in a mold by falling apart. What should be a simple cold is currently nailing him in bed and having him incapable of doing the slightest effort whether it be mental or physical. Years of held back exhaustion and of being overworked are now coming to haunt him and kick him when he’s already down.

What worries her most is his difficulty breathing, since now he has a stuffy nose on top so if he gets an asthma attack while he’s sick it could get very serious, especially considering how exhausted he already is.

At first she takes the silence as good news—it means he’s asleep—but after a couple of hours she starts to worry and decides to go check on him. She’s careful to be quiet, approaches slowly as to not wake him up if he is asleep, and makes sure he’s still breathing before she herself takes a breath.

She stays for a minute just to be sure, then leaves him alone once she’s appeased enough to do so. But barely half an hour after that she hears him have a coughing fit, which has her hurry back in his room to help him straighten up and relax enough to breathe.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she soothes as tears stream down his face. “I know it’s not fun, but it’s gonna pass, trust me.”

She gives him some water once his fit stops, encourages him to drink since he‘s a bit reluctant.

“He’s punishing me,” he croaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “He’s— he’s doing this to me…. He hates me, doesn’t he..?”

“I don’t think he has the power to make you sick like that.”

“You don’t— you don’t know what he’s capable of, he…” He sniffles, clears his throat. “He wants me to suffer…”

“This isn’t of his doing, he doesn’t have power over you anymore. This is just your body being incredibly tired.”

“I wouldn’t be sick if he didn’t want me to get sick,” Jason keeps crying. “He didn’t let me get sick for— for seven years and now I’m…” Talking is too painful, he can’t keep it up anymore, instead lets out a long pained whine and throws himself in a little ball, resigned.

How unfair it is that Roman can keep playing with him like this but he himself will never be able to taste his warmth ever again, Roman can just keep punishing him while so far apart and he does deserve it but… it hurts, it hurts so much and he misses him so badly, every part of him aches for his lover— his— his ex-lover.

He bursts into even more tears.

Never did he think he’d ever see Roman this way. Their relationship was supposed to end with Roman killing him, that’s how this was supposed to go, he never was meant to live past the end and yet… there he is, unable to breathe, unable to speak, hurting in every way possible, struggling to keep his eyes open and just so fucking weak and helpless and alive.

What if Roman keeps him sick like this forever? He hates this, he doesn’t want this, he wants to be fine and at home in the warmth of his lover’s embrace, why can’t he have something he wants for once in his godforsaken life? He just wants to breathe unencumbered for once, is that really so selfish? Why is it punishment-worthy of him to desire something? To wish for something simple? Why does Roman hate him so much?

He can’t do this, he can’t live like this, dead and alive at the same time, he can’t… he can’t do this.

𖦹

Jason’s sickness shows no sign of going away, and it’s having him get more and more delirious. He’s burning out from being ill, it’s exhausting him when he’s already at the end of his rope, but luckily Harley and Barbara have not caught whatever he has therefore they can keep taking care of him. They are tired too, Jason isn’t particularly easy to manage—not that they blame him for it. In his mind he’s being punished, and he believes he deserves it while still thinking it’s unfair, which is quite the mix for someone who is currently not even aware of where he is.

At least he takes his medicine, which does help with his stuffed nose and has him fall asleep more quickly, but it doesn’t alleviate him enough to curb his delirium.
With a fever this high they also make sure he eats and drinks enough, it’s not as hard as it could be, most of the time he’s too tired to be difficult so he drinks his soup and water without a fuss, though he does need some light encouragement.

Every night Barbara shares how he’s doing with Bruce, Dick and Alfred, and every night they disconnect right after they hear he’s doing just as badly. Sometimes they offer to come help but they all know it’ll only make things worse. Jason can barely handle a coughing fit, if Bruce were to show up he’d lose whatever’s left of his mind.

Therefore, Harley and Barbara alternate between taking care of him, doing their best to make him feel better since this sickness is starting to feel quite terminal.

Chapter Text

By some miracle, Jason wakes up one day able to breathe through his nose. It’s minimal, but enough to be noticed.

From that day on, he finally starts to get a little bit better. After six weeks of being bedridden and practically paralyzed by his illness, he quickly starts to overflow with energy, which is spent as anxiety and random bursts of tears.

Though the sickness is slowly going away, his frequent asthma attacks do not. The damage that drugs have done to his respiratory system must’ve been worsened dramatically by his sickness, which is most likely permanent.
When he understands that, he starts to beg to be put out of his misery but panics whenever he’s approached because only Roman’s allowed to kill him. He just begs them to give him a knife and let him do it since they refuse to call Roman, and cries while begging them to step away from him whenever they try to get close so they can give him food, water, medicine or to change his blankets.

Eventually though things calm, he settles back in a more morose stare after a good week of being hyper and manic, depression taking back over him quickly.

One year has passed since he’s been kicked out, and they’re back to square one. Or maybe not, since it’s even worse now. Still, it’s better than anything else that could’ve happened. At least Bruce found him in the streets first, at least no one else laid a hand on him since his breakup, at least he’s surrounded by people who will never give up on his healing, at least his sickness didn’t kill him, at least Roman didn’t give him false hope at the Ball.

Healing takes time. Being stuck in an abusive relationship for a decade, being fed lies after lies, having his own bodily autonomy ripped away from him, the power taken from the word no, Jason won’t get past that fully no matter how long he spends recovering. And that’s okay. The only important thing is that he finds some kind of peace and comfort with the life he now has, the life he can make for himself. Harley herself still gets triggered, she still has nightmares, she still has bad days. But she’s happy, she has people she loves and learned to be her own person. There’s hope for Jason too.

𖦹

He eats and showers, gets out of bed to watch Sarah. Not everyday, and it took him a while to get there, but each is a small victory whenever it happens.

He cries a lot, and feels immensely guilty about Sarah’s state.

She isn’t doing well at all.

He’d like to visit her. To go see her, and… and maybe one day she could live with him again. He just… he misses her, and he knows how to take care of her. He knows he could help her feel better, he knows she’s just homesick like him, she just can’t adapt to this new life with those new people and this new place. But if they were together, then… then maybe things would be better.

It takes him months to dare voice that want. And when he does he immediately apologizes for being selfish and goes to hide in his bedroom.

That night, Barbara mentions that when everyone checks in. “But I have so much on my plate, I don’t think I have time to arrange that anytime soon,” she adds. “If it’s even possible…”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Bruce replies before disconnecting.

𖦹

Weeks pass. Things don’t seem like they’re moving, everything feels the same, but the progress is there nonetheless.

Jason is still heartbroken, but he is doing better than he was when he first came back here. They’re tiny baby steps, and might not look like much to people who don’t know what he went through, but to Barbara and Harley who see him slowly pick himself back up piece by piece without realizing it, it feels like a greater accomplishment than getting a man on the moon. They can’t voice that pride, Jason doesn’t realize he’s doing better and might get worse if he were made aware of it, but whenever he accomplishes something the two women are sure to celebrate quietly once they’re out of sight.

But one day that mundane streak is broken for Jason as he’s announced something he would have never dared hope for.

“Bruce has arranged a visit at the shelter for you.”

He looks at Barbara, frowning, thinking he misunderstood. “What?”

“Bruce managed to arrange a visit to see Sarah, you can go see her if you want. No one’s gonna say a word, and he said if you want to go back he can arrange that too. I know cars are hard for you so if you don’t want to that’s fine too, it’s just… you said you’d like to see her again, so this is your chance.”

A certain air of life sparks in his eyes, one that has not been there in a long time. “I— I—“ He stammers for a while, experiencing a lot of emotions all at once and struggling to latch onto one. “Bruce did that?”

“Yes, I mentioned it and he decided to arrange it for you.”

“Why..?”

“He loves you, Jay. He just wants you to be happy.”

“But— But… Bruce?”

“Yes, Bruce. He still sees you as his son, he never stopped, of course he’d do something like that for you.”

Jason squints in disbelief.

“He will be there in person, just to make sure things run smoothly, but no one’s gonna force you to interact with him. You’ll be there to see Sarah, he doesn’t expect anything from you, neither do I.”

He takes a moment to absorb the information, quickly forgets about the Bruce thing, focuses back on the sheer joy he feels upon the thought of seeing Sarah again. “When can I see her?”

“Whenever you feel like it.”

“Can— Can we go now? I— please, let me see her today, please, I’ll—“

“It’s okay. We can go today, but can you get ready first? I’ll call Bruce in the meantime, alright?”

He nods, heart racing, and runs to his bedroom.

𖦹

At the shelter, Jason fidgets anxiously with his coat.

The ride over was hard to go through, he was nauseous the entire time and cried for most of it, which was hell because the shelter is outside of Gotham and therefore quite a way from the Clock Tower. But he’s here now, and though he’s shaking because he hasn’t been in a place other than a residence in an eternity, he cannot wait to see Sarah.

He has no idea what’s been said for his coming here to go unsaid, to stay private, but he doesn’t care about that right now. He just wants to see his cheetah.

They go inside the facility, and at the reception stands Bruce, talking with an employee.

Bruce turns back, looks at him, but stays quiet as if waiting for him to say the first word.

He doesn’t. His throat is tight, he doesn’t feel safe, he wants to go home, he doesn’t like this new place and the stranger, but he needs to see Sarah.

Barbara speaks for him. Asks to be shown to the right enclosure.

The walk over seems interminable. They pass by corridors, and end up back outside behind the building where there’s many enclosures.

They keep walking.

Bruce stayed back, it’s just Jason, Barbara and the employee. No one else is around.

The closer they get the more lighthearted Jason feels. His extremities are tingling, his lungs struggling to hold any air in them. Every step he thinks he’s about to stumble and fall.

But he makes it.

“She’s not very active, usually she stays under the big rock if she doesn’t come to you,” the employee says as she opens the first door to the enclosure. “Are you sure you’re okay going in alone?”

He nods, steps forward.

“Alright, here you go.”

Inside the enclosure, his eyes start scanning the place.

It’s large, lush, warm. It’s a bit worn down, but there’s nothing to really complain about.

He walks in the direction of the big rock.

Hears a meow.

“Sarah?” he calls out weakly.

A louder meow.

“Sarah,” he says again as he sees her trot up to him, clearly tired and unwell but going as fast as she can, and so does he, hurrying over to her despite his tired legs and empty lungs.

She jumps in his arms, causing him to fall as he can’t support her weight, and she starts to nuzzle against him while purring loudly.

“I’m sorry,” he cries softly into her warm fur, holding her tightly. “I’m so sorry for leaving you…”

She’s not as soft as he remembers, and her purring sounds a bit pained, which has his heart tighten with guilt.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you like this, I shouldn’t have abandoned you without saying goodbye, I… I thought I was doing the right thing and I just… I was so tired, I couldn’t— I couldn’t do it anymore… but I’ll take care of you now, okay? I’m not… I’m not leaving you again.”

For a long while he cries while keeping his face against her fur, since Roman isn’t there to tell him not to do that he can give her as much love as he wants.

Holding her, feeling her weight over him, fills him with a sense of peace and comfort he hasn’t felt since everything went to shit. It feels like he’s back home and it reminds him that Roman wasn’t the only good thing in his life. Roman gave him Sarah, the greatest gift in the world, and Jason loves her so deeply that he starts to feel bad for having been obsessed with dying.

If he died, who would’ve made sure Sarah would be fine? He thought this place would do that but she’s still sick now, so… who would’ve come to see her and hopefully heal her? No one. He’s had her since she was a baby, he knows how to take care of her, how to get her to eat and exercise when she doesn’t want to. Cheetahs get sick easily, it happened a few times that he had to nurse her back to health, and even with the vet and trainer he was the one doing the most and helping the most. They have a bond, and he can’t believe he was about to take himself away from her like that, to leave her alone in a world so harsh and cruel. No, if she has to live through this change then so does he. He doesn’t get to take the easy way out and leave her by herself like this.

He stays in there for so long that the employee comes to check on him—Barbara would but the terrain in the enclosure isn’t wheelchair friendly.

“Is everything alright?”

“She prefers rabbit meat,” he says to the employee. “If you hide her medicine in it she’ll eat it without a fuss. And walk her around, she’s comfortable with a leash, bring her along inside, have her not just stay in her enclosure twenty-four seven. If you drink with her she’s more likely to drink too, and she really likes having her head massaged gently, it helps her fall asleep.” The entire time he keeps his eyes on his cheetah, who is currently sleeping on top of him. “She likes it when you run with her too, I think she likes how she always wins in races. And she doesn’t mind crowds, she enjoys smaller ones but she does get overwhelmed in big ones after a while, but that shouldn’t stop you from having more than one person at a time in here. And she likes being carried when she’s asleep. She prefers younger people, I think by now you probably know she’s at best neutral with older men. And she really likes being talked to, you can read books to her when she’s feeling restless.”

“O-Okay, can you repeat that all when we’re back at reception so I can write it down?”

“Sure. For now, can I stay here? She’s resting, I don’t want to wake her up.”

“Yeah, of course. You, uh, you don’t need a key to get out, just make sure the enclosure is closed safely when you leave it, I have to make my rounds right now.”

Soon after he’s once again alone with Sarah, making sure she stays comfortably asleep, well aware of how hard that can be when sick.

Really, now that he feels at home again he realizes just how empty he was before. He knew a big part of himself was missing but he didn’t realize how big it was, how much space it took.
He is so glad he finds that with her too, so glad that he has not lost himself so much he cannot reconnect to her again. He was scared of that, of her hating him, of their bond being broken, but… it’s still there. It’s all still there. All the love and comfort and joy, it didn’t disappear. There’s still a piece of the sun in the sky, one ray of light meant for them, and he refuses the forget that again—he might not be living for Roman anymore but Roman gave him something else to be alive for besides him.

It’s starting to get overwhelmingly hot for him, between the heated enclosure and Sarah, but all that does is bring a smile to his face. He’s been so unbearably cold lately, he never thought he’d ever be warm again, and now he is, sweating in his coat, his cheeks burning, his heart pumping actual blood through his veins again.

For him time stops existing, he doesn’t think about anything but the present, about reuniting with Sarah. Though she is sick he knows she’ll be fine, he’ll make sure of that. He himself was deathly ill a few weeks ago, if he got better she will too.
He’d be content if they stayed like this forever, the last thing he wants right now is to move, but after a while she wakes herself up by coughing and he quickly does his best to help her, soothing her gently, trying to have her relax.

“I had those too, it’s okay, it’ll pass,” he tells her, stroking her back. “They suck a lot, I know.”

She meows at him in between coughs, getting up, which allows him to also get back on his feet. Since he was told she prefers it under her rock, he helps her get back there, makes sure she settles down comfortably once her fit is over.

He waits until she falls back asleep to leave—if she wasn’t sick he’d ask her to come with since she doesn’t need a leash to follow him—and though he knows he’ll come back here as often as he can his heart is tight as he exits the enclosure. He wouldn’t leave probably ever if he could, but he wants to make sure the employees here have the right information so Sarah will get better as quickly as possible. He definitely didn’t give much information in his email when he asked them to come pick her up, he remembers how hard it was to put together one single sentence, he didn’t have the mental capacity to include details. Luckily he does now, so he’ll make sure to give as much information as he can.

“You said we could come back, right?” he asks Barbara who waited at the gate.

“Yes, any time and as often as you’d like.”

“So we can come back tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

He squints thoughtfully. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why am I allowed to come here?”

“Why wouldn’t you be allowed to come here?”

“I’m supposed to be dead, aren’t I? And… why would anyone do something like this for me? None of you even like me.”

“I— well— okay, first things first, yeah in the public eye you are… dead,” she says a bit hesitantly even if they had that conversation often those past weeks, “which is why Bruce is paying for discretion and will make sure any security camera footage of you will be deleted. Secondly, we’re doing this for you because you deserve it. We do like you, and we all want you to be happy.”

“Then… but…” He falls silent. He’s confused, but he won’t insist, afraid of getting into an argument and having the privilege of seeing Sarah get taken from him.

They make their way back inside, to the reception, he fidgets with his hands the entire time.

What if she lied? What if this is some kind of punishment; bringing him to see Sarah, promising they can do it again only to forbid him once they’re away from here?

“You’re not gonna keep me away from her, right?” he asks weakly, the employee not back at reception yet. “I— I know I haven’t been that good lately, but I’m— I’m gonna try harder if you let me see her again, I’m not gonna fuck up or—“

“I promise you we won’t keep you away from her. Any time you want to come here we come here,” Barbara assures him.

He turns towards Bruce. “Please don’t play with me like this,” he begs tearfully. “I’m so sick of games like these, please, just… just let me have this one thing, please…”

“I— I am, I am letting you have this, I’m not playing— I’m not playing games, I promise,” Bruce lets out with some difficulty. “I would never take that away from you.”

For an interminable amount of time, Jason stares at Bruce directly in his eyes, like he’s perusing through his entire being searching for the truth.

Bruce doesn’t have that sadistic glimmer in his eyes like Roman. There’s no barrier between his body and heart, he doesn’t need to be by his side for years to know him. But that honesty throws off Jason. He does not believe in purity of want anymore, nothing people give is free of expectations, something always has to be given in return. Only Roman spoiled him simply for the fun of it, and even then Jason was giving him his entire life to earn nicer treatment. But Bruce? What could Bruce possibly want in return? Jason gave him his life before already and that wasn’t enough, so what could possibly be given back right now for the gift of seeing Sarah again? What could he ever have to offer to Bruce?

“I don’t have anything to give you,” he lets out softly. “I don’t… I don’t have anything anymore…”

“I don’t want you to give me something in return.”

Jason scoffs dryly, incredulous. “Then what’s the point of doing this?”

“There isn’t a ‘point’, there isn’t a plan, I’m just… I’m trying to help you, that’s all.”

“But help me to do what?”

“I don’t know, I just want to help you so you feel better.”

“Why?”

“Because I— because I care about you a lot.”

“Why do you keep lying to me?”

“I’m not, I swear to you I’m not lying. I care, I always have, and I want to do the right thing this time.”

Once again, Jason stares at him, trying to understand the meaning of this.

Before he can even think of something to reply to that, the employee comes back. “Oh, good, you’re all back here.” She goes to the computer at the desk and turns to the youngest. “Can you repeat all you’ve said earlier, please?”

Jason struggles prying his gaze off of Bruce, swallows and takes a deep breath before starting to list Sarah’s preferences and quirks.

While he does that, Barbara and Bruce communicate in silence.

“What am I supposed to tell him?” he asks her, desperate.

“I don’t know, I think you just have to give it time. He doesn’t trust me yet, so it’s gonna take a while, all we can do is be patient.”

Bruce sighs quietly, looks at Jason who currently has his back turned on him.

He would give everything and anything to alleviate his son’s pain, there’s not a thing he wouldn’t do for him. But Jason refuses to believe it. Bruce can’t really blame him for that, but… he doesn’t know how to prove it. How to prove that he does love him, that he does want him to be happy. Of course Jason will end up trusting Barbara again, he’ll get on good terms with Dick and Alfred too for sure, because none of them messed up like he did. None of them abandoned and hurt Jason like Bruce has. No matter what he does, his son will never let him back in his life, he’s certain of it. But that won’t stop him from giving him everything anyway. He’s not doing this for himself, he’s doing this for Jason, he said the truth when he told Jason there is no plan, he isn’t attempting to do anything, he’s not trying to get something out of this. All he wants to do is help whether or not Jason thanks him for it.

“And don’t forget, she likes people, but she doesn’t really enjoy attention from older men,” Jason finishes, makes sure the employee wrote it all.

Bruce grimaces, uncomfortable at hearing that. Jason would’ve never let Roman lay a hand on his cheetah, though he knows Jason changed a lot he can still be sure of that, so why would Sarah dislike older men? Did she witness Jason’s treatment or simply felt that Roman wasn’t a good person? He remembers the few times he’s met her she was indifferent towards him too, so surely she must’ve seen some things to dislike older men in general, but not enough to have her react in a traumatized manner. Her behaviour has always been different, she always loved Jason’s actual friends, never seemed that happy with anyone else. Her and Jason must be very in tune, which explains why she’s been doing badly since their separation, even with the woman caretaker who was with her for a bit; she never got as active as other cheetahs her age. Now things might change for the best though, reuniting them might help them both finally actually heal.

Soon, Jason reluctantly leaves with Barbara, Bruce staying to make sure there’ll be no trace of Jason here.

In the car, Jason cries silently while looking out the window, promises to himself that he’ll get better enough to take care of Sarah. If they don’t let him see her again he will fight until they do, he’ll run away and walk all the way to the shelter if that’s what it takes.

His sole purpose now is to make sure she lives happily.

Chapter Text

Every single day, Bruce, Barbara and Jason are at the shelter.
Jason for the most part ignores Bruce, goes straight to see his cheetah, helps feed her and give her medicine, and only he manages to get her to walk around.

Bruce and Barbara watch him through the security cameras, often rendered voiceless by all the emotions it brings them to see Jason heal himself by healing Sarah.
Because she’s sick and he wants to carry her, he starts working out again. Before, when he was a porn star, he wasn’t allowed to get past a certain level of strength, but now that the point of his body isn’t to be desired anymore, now that it’s simply meant to aid his cheetah, he doesn’t limit himself to certain weights.
He still has his fair share of breakdowns about it, Roman’s voice echoing in his head reprimanding him for trying to be strong enough to save others, calling him a liar for having promised never to be a vigilante again when now he’s training like one and taking care of another life, and sometimes he gives in and abandons his efforts—until he sees Sarah again and remembers why he’s doing this. Then he trains when they get back home, and eats more, and Harley helps him deal with the guilt and self loathing that comes with it.

“I was thinking,” Harley starts one day as they finish training together, “since Sarah likes crowds, we could go together in her enclosure.”

Jason looks at her, interested in the idea. “We who?”

“Anyone you want.”

“Well… Barbara can’t get in the enclosure with her wheelchair…”

“If we’re enough, I’m sure we can help her get past the roots and difficult terrain.”

He pauses, thinks about it. “Or we could just bring Sarah outside of her enclosure. She’s doing well enough for that now.”

“That… is a very good point.”

“So next time you can come with, and I’ll bring Sarah out.”

“What about Bruce? Would you prefer he stay at the reception like usual?”

“I— I don’t know. Why? Did he say something?”

“No, I’m sure he’s content staying back, I was just asking for Sarah’s sake.”

“Oh. Well… I dunno…” He keeps his gaze low, unsure of what to think.

“If you don’t want Bruce to be there, that’s okay, no one’s gonna get mad.”

“I just— I don’t get him, I don’t understand what he wants from me…”

“He doesn’t want anything from you, he’s just there to make sure things run smoothly.”

“Everyone wants something from me. Especially men. And he… he just wants things I can’t give him, that’s how it’s always been, I… I’ll never be good enough for him so I don’t get why he keeps trying to make me give him things when we both know he’ll be disappointed.”

She considers him. “Let’s sit down for a moment, okay? I wanna talk about this.”

He complies a bit hesitantly, the two sitting down on the mat face to face.

“Yes, relationships are transactional, but not in the way you think. It’s not about actual payment or about giving and receiving what you think is fair. Relationships are transactional in the way that it’s beneficial for everyone involved without having to think about it. I’m friends with people who make me happy, and they’re friends with me because I make them happy. We give each other support and love without measuring every ounce of it to make sure we don’t ‘give’ more than we ‘take’. I help my friends because I want to help them, because shared joy is a double joy and shared sorrow is half a sorrow. For a while you spent time only with people who believed that everything was about money and power, but not everyone is like this. Here, and most places, people want to be with others because they believe in sharing joy and sorrow. There is no concept of being good enough, there is no notion of disappointment in a person for what they’re able to give. Not with any of us. Bruce is giving you the opportunity to see Sarah every day because he wants you to be happy, he wants to help alleviate your sorrow. There is no payment needed for that. No scales to balance. I know you understand that and I know you share those values because you would not be helping Sarah get better otherwise, since she could never repay you in the way you think you have to repay others.”

He takes a second to answer. “I just… I just want her to be happy, of course I don’t expect her to pay me back for it.”

Harley smiles at him. “Exactly.”

…….. Oh.

Oh.

“Oh my god,” he lets out breathlessly. “But— But why? Why me? After— after everything..?”

“That’s what family is for. They welcome you back with open arms no matter what.”

“But… they didn’t. Not when I first came back.”

“They tried. Misunderstandings still happen. Usually not to that scale, but they do happen. But believe me the love was there. It always was. That’s why it was so hard, that’s why they were afraid of reaching out for you. Rejection only hurts when you really want something, they were afraid you’d cut ties with them for good if they came too close.”

He stares at his hands pensively. “It’s… it’s too late now…”

“That’s okay. They won’t stop trying, they won’t stop giving, and they won’t ever expect anything in return. They know you changed, no one’s asking you to be who you used to be. If you really want them out of your life, they will listen even if it’s gonna be the hardest thing they’d ever have to do. But if you don’t mind them staying around, they’ll happily stand by your side.”

For a moment they’re both quiet, Jason struggling to wrap his head around all of that information.

“Jason. No one is forcing you to do anything, no one is asking you to put a name to how you see those currently around you. You focus on Sarah because it’s what brings you joy, and that’s it. And maybe one day you’ll be doing well enough to move out to your own place, maybe be able to live with her because I’m sure that can be arranged. You get to have your own life now, no one’s gonna try to control what you do. It’s up to you, and it is gonna be scary and hard, but you’ll see in the end it’ll be so worth it.”

𖦹

Bruce seems nervous too. It’s the first time Jason really realizes it. It makes the power imbalance feel less… intense. Bruce isn’t a big unbreakable monument of authority and control, he’s a human being who gets nervous walking to an enclosure because he never made that walk with Jason before.

It gives Jason strength to say “I’ll go see if she’s up to it,” once they get to the gate, to which Harley replies “okie doke” and Barbara says “take your time, no worries.”

“Sarah,” he calls once he’s in.

She comes running, her energy levels increasing practically every day.

“Hey, easy,” he chuckles as she jumps on him—he is getting a bit stronger but not nearly strong enough to carry her yet. Apparently because of bad nutrition and all the stress he’s been under, his bones are pretty weak, he already sprained his wrist twice because of Sarah despite the calcium supplements Harley gives him, so he’s careful now when she jumps on him to not try and catch her. Instead he tries to simply go down slowly since it’s impossible to stay up when she pounces on him like that.

He lets her release some energy and affection before bringing her out, plays with her for a couple of minutes just so she’ll be more comfortable and calm once she’ll be surrounded by other people.

She gets even more excited when he takes out the leash, which he uses simply so she won’t climb on Barbara, securing the harness first and then putting the leash on.
It’s not a diamond leash, it’s a simple one just strong enough to hold her but definitely not the quality either of them are used to.

“I know you’re a refined lady but we have to do with this one,” he tells her as she starts to nip at it. “You’ll get used to it in a minute or two, I promise.”

When he brings her out of her enclosure, everyone smiles at her but no one tries to immediately touch her. They’re all very aware that Sarah is basically an extension of Jason, they make sure to respect her and let her come to them first.

“She’s even more adorable than I remembered,” Bruce says, having been given some phrases to say by Harley to facilitate communication with Jason.

“She’s still a bit sick but yes even then she’s quite a cutie,” Jason replies, crouching to pet her. “Aren’t you, baby? You— oh, no, no, come on, don’t do that,” he soothes as she tries to get out of her harness.

“Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s just very, uh… well, y’know, she’s been living in luxury since she was a cub, she is well aware of the difference between a cheap leash and a couple thousands dollars leash. She doesn’t really settle for anything less than what she’s used to, I think that’s why she’s struggling here too. Out of the two of us she was definitely enjoying the money more than me.” He smiles at her. “She’s a Princess and she knows it.”

He doesn’t keep her out too long mostly because of the harness, she does get less annoyed after a few minutes but he doesn’t want to push her so he brings her back before she starts to show the slightest sign of being overwhelmed.

As they get back to Barbara’s place he thinks back on something peculiar; Sarah was not completely indifferent towards Bruce. She seemed a bit shy with him but wasn’t opposed to seeking some attention from him, which is weird because she never behaved like that with a man of that age before. He supposes it’s a good sign, supposes she’d know if he had any bad intentions and so doesn’t feel uncomfortable around him, but it’s a bit weird to Jason. It can’t be because she misses Roman and so looks for whatever’s closest; Roman literally never touched her, barely looked at her, referred to her as ‘the cat’ because he kept forgetting her name. So it’s because… she likes Bruce? Why, though? She never cared for him before, so what changed?

He sighs, looks outside the window.

They pass by a billboard with his face on it, he bursts into tears before he can even think about it.

𖦹

The next time he goes to see Sarah, the cheap leash has disappeared from the box in front of her enclosure. Instead there’s a fancy one that looks a lot like one Jason used to have for her.

He looks back at Bruce, shyly, confused, but stays quiet.

“I, uh, I tried to find the same I remembered you having but I think it was custom made,” Bruce tells him, his voice soft, hesitant, “so I settled for that one for now. If you prefer another you can tell me, I can— I can get you a different one too.”

“I think she’ll like this one.” It’s a bit weird to talk to Bruce, he prefers ignoring him just so he can avoid his stomach fluttering and chest tightening, but he can’t really ignore him now.
To avoid speaking further he goes in the enclosure immediately, and luckily Bruce doesn’t try to hold him back by saying something else.

Sarah does like it, when he puts it on her after helping her spend some energy she doesn’t make a fuss, which may seem like a small thing but the fact that she’s comfortable makes Jason so happy for her. It might be too late for him to overcome what’s happened this past year and a half but it’s not too late for her, she still has a chance at being herself, she still has personality and taste. She didn’t lose everything, and that makes him feel hope for the first time in probably a lifetime.

He brings her out, she starts off close to him but quickly socializes, again more with Bruce than what Jason would expect.

Bruce is very gentle, barely dares touch her, keeps looking over at Jason to make sure it’s fine when he does so little as show her his hand so she can sniff it.

“So she really does feel the difference in the harness?” Harley asks, genuinely impressed by it.

Jason nods, smiling softly. “She knows her worth.”

“That’s crazy, I love that of her. Bud and Lou couldn’t tell the difference between a rotten chicken and a three course meal from a five star restaurant.”

He chuckles softly while keeping his eyes on his cheetah.

It’s a bit hard for them to know when he’s genuinely amused by something while around them; his Red mannerisms are still very much present, therefore it’s hard to tell if he’s simply trying to be polite or if he’s actually enjoying the moment. Obviously he likes being around Sarah, but does that joy extend to them? He’s not particularly open about his feelings either, and Harley doesn’t want to tell him to stop faking if he isn’t—or even if he is, since it’s a survival mechanism he developed and he won’t understand she’s saying that for his own good and not because he’s in trouble for it.

With time things like these should get easier to see, of course at the moment Jason has more important things to deal with, so Harley won’t press him on that for now. She’ll simply make sure he doesn’t hurt himself over trying to be polite, which hasn’t happened yet.

For that it’s not every day that Jason brings out Sarah, because Harley knows he won’t be able to say no if they ask every day to have her come out. She makes sure Jason has his alone time with his cheetah too especially on days where he’s struggling a bit more, and that he doesn’t always have to interact with Bruce either since usually he gets more conflicted emotionally afterwards. It’s good and should happen, but not every time, not enough that Jason starts avoiding seeing his cat because he doesn’t want complicated feelings. This has to remain a safe space he wants to go to, and Bruce does understand—just the fact that Jason looks at him without insulting him or looking down on him is enough, he’s terrified of breaking the peace they managed to create and so never insists to interact with his son. Instead, when he’s not with Jason, he follows the employee around to ask her as much as he can about cheetahs and Sarah’s enclosure and care, because maybe one day he’ll be able to make a home for his son and his son’s cheetah, allowing them to live together because it’s clear that this will be the only long term liveable situation for the both of them. Sure they are getting better, but not enough to live by themselves. Harley pointed that out; Jason’s suicidal ideation goes down a lot after he sees Sarah, and Sarah herself eats more and takes better care of herself when Jason is there. They need each other, and coming here everyday won’t work forever. They need to settle.

𖦹

“Is Dick busy?” Jason hesitantly asks Harley one afternoon, after having spent three hours in the bathroom.

“A little bit, but if you want to see him I’m sure he has time for it.”

Jason nods shyly. “Could he..? Please?”

“Sure, I’ll ask him. When would you like him to come over?”

“Soon, if he can…”

“Alright, I’ll text him right now.”

“Thank you. Sorry.”

“No worries, I don’t mind and I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

After that, Jason hurries to go in his room and sits down into a corner with his headphones.

He hopes they won’t come get him for dinner. He hopes they’ll let him correct his mistake and lose the weight he gained. They act like he’s not overeating but he just spent so long analyzing every bit of himself and he’s fairly certain Roman wouldn’t approve of it, but since there’s no way to be sure he’d rather be too small than too big.

“You have so much potential beauty, Red, it kills me to see you eat like this, it’s like you want to sabotage yourself.”

He takes off his headphones to not appear rude despite knowing it’s just in his head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles just like he did then. “I’m trying… I just want to be strong enough to hold Sarah…”

“Your cat? That’s ridiculous. Your appearance is all that matters, do you understand me?”

He nods, eyes closed tightly to try and hold back his tears.

“You dumb fucking bitch.”

He flinches, expecting a hit, but nothing comes.

It’s just Roman’s voice in his head, he isn’t really here, but Jason would give anything to feel the sting of his anger again. Or just to see him even. Yet all he gets is an echo in his ears, and never when he needs it most. There’s nothing when he’s struggling to fall asleep, when he gets scared in the shower or while changing clothes. He is always completely alone when he needs Roman most. Roman only comes to him for corrections in his behaviour, not to reassure him or offer support.

So far, Jason has been hiding it well. He’s pretty certain no one knows, which is good because it’d be humiliating if they were aware that sometimes he hallucinates his ex lover’s voice. It’s a bit hard to hide when he hears him while around others, he’s constantly terrified of being found out, but he dares hope that since no one tells him about it it means that no one knows. It also helps that Roman gives him small corrections like “don’t slouch, straighten up” and “stop grimacing” and “stop walking like an ogre” instead of things that require an answer—even if Jason knows Roman isn’t really there he can’t bring himself to ignore him.

He wishes he could hide his anxiety that well but he’s a pack of nerves and everyone knows it—whatever softness he managed to give in to before the Ball he cannot handle anymore, not now that his breakup with Roman is official, and so he has absolutely no way to calm down when he’s freaking out. Physical touch is the only thing besides his medication that can regulate his anxiety and he has neither anymore. It’s summer and he’s constantly cold anyway, it’s not as violent as when he got sick but it’s still there enough to affect him every single day and even when asleep.
He sleeps with a hot water bag and a lot of blankets and pillows but it can’t mimic the human warmth and proximity he got so used to, it can’t mimic Roman’s heartbeat and slowly moving chest as he breathes.

This is torture. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, he doesn’t know what to want, what to think. Is he allowed to focus on Sarah so much? Maybe he shouldn’t, but… he can’t let her suffer. He can help, he should help. Right? He’s the only one that should suffer, she doesn’t deserve to be in pain, she never asked for any of this and he’s the one that abandoned her in the first place therefore it’s his own responsibility to make sure she’s okay.

… right?

He doesn’t have any rules anymore. Who is he without guidance? Who is he without someone to blindly listen to? What does he have to do when he has nothing to do?

Fuck, he misses Roman so much, he just… he has no idea what to do anymore…

If he hadn’t freaked out he’d still be home, or at least if he had stayed a star as he crumbled he’d be dead, but… but now he has to figure it out. Now he has to be responsible for himself because Sarah will hurt otherwise. If it wasn’t for her he definitely wouldn’t be doing all of this. Ruining his body by working out and eating too much, doing just the slightest efforts to stay alive.
Sometimes he asks himself if… if maybe others could take care of Sarah so he could finally get his own ending. But that’s selfish, isn’t it? Not only that but he’d be going against Roman’s word too. This is his punishment for having failed him. He doesn’t deserve the easy way out, the end he always believed in, instead he deserves this messy, incomprehensible fake life.

At least he has Sarah to devote himself to, but… it isn’t the same thing. It’s hard to be the one to make plans, to help another, to stand, while he himself has no one to follow. He doesn’t know how to be anything else than an object anymore, how is he supposed to take care of another life?

Still, he can’t bring himself to abandon her again. No matter how badly he wants to kill himself, he can’t help but be thankful the knives are locked away.

𖦹

A knock on his door startles him out of his deep reflective state.

“Jay? Dick is here.”

He picks himself off the floor, walks to his door and opens it just enough to peak his head out. “Can you come in, please?” he asks when he makes eye contact with Dick.

“Hi, yeah, sure. Are you sure, though?”

Jason nods, opens his door some more to invite him in.

The oldest of the two hesitantly steps forward, careful to keep his distance and seem as passive as possible.

Jason takes a deep breath, his heart racing, and closes the door. He doesn’t want to be in a bedroom with a man, but he’s scared Harley will get mad if she hears him question Dick about certain things.

“Do you want me to sit or stand anywhere specific?” Dick asks, clearly thrown off. They haven’t seen each other since Jason was stuck in character, and now months later, out of nowhere, he requests his presence and invites him in his bedroom.

The youngest shrugs, goes to curl up on the sofa back to the window. “Can I ask you some questions?”

Dick ends up sitting at the desk, it’s on the wall opposite to the sofa and next to the door so he can leave quickly if Jason asks him to. “Sure, yeah.”

“You’re strong, right?”

“I… yeah, I am.”

“Could you lift up to 140 pounds?”

“… why?”

“I just…” Jason looks down, ashamed. “I would like to be able to carry Sarah, but working out is making me too big. You’re strong and you’re still a relatively appropriate size, so… I wondered what your secret is.”

“My… wait, what?”

“I’m not allowed to gain too much weight,” Jason explains a bit desperately, ready to admit anything to make Dick understand how important this is to him. “I was never allowed to get too strong, I’m already going against that, so I just don’t want to go against the rules about my appearance too…”

“I— okay, maybe we should get Harley for this, I don’t know how to—“

“No! Please, don’t, please,” the youngest begs. “I don’t want her to get mad at me, I just… please just tell me, please…”

The amount of ‘please’s gets Dick to comply, uncomfortable and really not wanting to break his brother’s trust. “Okay, it’s okay, I won’t tell, I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t really— I don’t really have a secret, I think it’s just genetics or something, it’s probably also the aerial training, y’know?”

Tears quickly start to burn in Jason’s eyes.

“But— but it’s fine, you’re not getting too big, there’s no such thing as too big, and you’re literally still so small, and you’re allowed to get bigger so you can hold your cat, it’s not a problem, no one’s gonna get mad.”

Jason leans his face into his hands to hide his tears and silence his sobs, does his best to hold back yet incapable to do so.

“Jay, shit, sorry, uh, I, uh… I’m sorry, I’m… I don’t know what to tell you, I’m so sorry, I’m not equipped for that, I know eating is hard for you, I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you something that’ll make you feel better but, like, you need to eat and it’s good you’re working out, I’m happy you’re doing that, you shouldn’t be afraid of it.” Dick grimaces with guilt, has no idea what to say to help. “You don’t have to worry, no one’s gonna judge you no matter what you look like.”

“You don’t get it,” the youngest lets out, his voice strained. “I need to be judged, I need it, I need it to be pretty…”

“You don’t, that doesn’t make sense,” he remembers something Harley told him once, “all you ‘have to’ do is exist. There’s no right or wrong way to do that. You don’t have to do or be anything specific.”

Jason looks up at Dick, grimacing almost in disgust. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Well— no, it’s… it’s not ridiculous, it’s the truth.”

“Not for me.”

“Of course for you.”

“No, I’m not— I’m not like everyone else—“

Dick immediately starts to fear having made Jason switch back to character.

“—I’m not a person like all of you, I’m nothing if I’m not worth being used, so… so I won’t get stronger, I won’t do anything, I get it and I just forgot for a moment but it’s fine, I’m… I’m done. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“No, no, no, wait, that’s not at all the point I was trying to make, I’m… fuck, sorry, I’m… can we backtrack, please?“ He tries to get his thoughts in order, to figure out how to fix this situation he just caused. “I’m sure we can figure something out, I mean… you want to be a certain weight, you wanna look a certain way, that’s fine, you just have to be careful about it, but… we could train together, I— we can practice aerials together again, that was fun, right? You’ll build strength but you won’t get bulky, you can at least give it a shot, right?” Is this selfish? Is he being an awful person right now? But aerials helped Jason before, maybe they’ll help again. Jason will gain muscle and see he can still be beautiful and graceful.

And maybe it works because there’s a tame glimmer in Jason’s eyes all of a sudden. “But what if I get too big anyway..?”

“You can lose muscle, you already have. If you really hate it no one’s gonna force you to keep doing it.”

They stare at each other for a moment. Jason is torn in two, Dick helplessly hopeful.

Then, after a long moment, the youngest utters a shy “okay.”

Chapter Text

Dick knows being happy at how easy it is to convince Jason is wrong considering why Jason is that way, but this time it’s for a good cause since getting back in the air is actually helping. It isn’t a cure all, definitely not, but as Dick hoped it does show Jason that strength and grace are not opposites.

He doesn’t tell Harley how he managed to convince Jason to get back to his hoop, as long as Jason does eat and move his body he won’t risk breaking his trust. He has a chance at bonding with him, he’ll do everything he can to do it right this time.

𖦹

Another update on Jason from Barbara. “He’s doing better, Dick came by today and they spent two hours in the gym together.”

Another update that does not appease Alfred.

Why do they need updates in the first place? Why are they all nervous to hear the state of their boy? Why is their boy confined in a home with locks on the cabinets? Because of an evil man. Because once again Jason has been the victim of the vile whims of an unrestrained criminal. No matter how well Jason gets, he still has something horrible to heal from. Someone toyed with him, broke his mind, someone who will never be brought to Justice.

It keeps Alfred awake at night.

He knows all of them are itching to take drastic measures, and the more time passes the more he worries they’ll stain their hands with blood. It’s time to act, his hands are already stained, theirs are not.

He will do it so they don’t have to.

An important thing is that he has to do it quick, no matter how much he wants to take his time. He cannot allow the Crime Lord even a second where he can save himself or be saved by someone else.

If he could he’d take him somewhere, do it slowly, tell him off for all he’s done to Jason, but that is not a luxury he can afford. Not if he wants to see results, and in this situation results are all that matters.

𖦹

Jason feels weird today. So weird he doesn’t manage to stay in the car, they have to turn back and go home instead of seeing Sarah.

Smothered by guilt, he keeps crying even if Barbara assures him that Bruce will still pay his cat a visit so she doesn’t feel abandoned.

She ends up calling for backup, and soon Dick is there too, not having called Harley because she feels bad always asking her for help. If this turns into a crisis then she will call the psychiatrist, but for now she hopes Dick and herself will be enough to handle this.

“She’s gonna die,” he sobs. “I feel it, I’m… something’s wrong, I need to be there..!”

But Barbara doesn’t want to risk it. He got an asthma attack in the car and then got sick, and he could barely stand when he got out of the car. They’re not going to do over an hour of road while he’s in that state. “I’m sure she’s fine, we saw her yesterday and she was doing great, wasn’t she?“

But that doesn’t calm him down.

“Bruce will call us when he’s with her, everything is gonna be fine.”

He’s incapable of believing that. His gut is telling him that something is wrong, and he knows it’s not just his regular anxiety. Something bad is going to happen today, he is sure of it, and the fact that no one else feels it convinces him it’s about Sarah. They can’t feel it because they’re not connected to her, but he is and he knows she’s in danger.

Barbara and Dick keep trying to reassure him and calm him down, but nothing works—not until finally Bruce video calls and Jason grabs the phone and holds onto it dearly, watching Sarah in her enclosure. “Is she okay? What’s her temperature? What did she eat today?”

Bruce gets him an answer for every question he asks, stays patient and listens, gives every angle Jason requests of his cheetah, seeing this as his opportunity to show he’s trustworthy. How Sarah reacts to him has him a bit hopeful, since she’s basically approving of his being around her then maybe Jason will do the same. If not he’ll accept it, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t dream of holding his son close to his chest and spend hours like this apologizing for everything.

“No, don’t pet her like this, go behind her ears.”

He also follows Jason’s instructions on how to pet Sarah to the letter, and though she seems to enjoy the attention he still makes sure to stay on the lookout for any signs that she wants to be left alone.
Surprisingly she’s very cuddly, more than she’s ever been with him. She’s already been quite nice to him lately, and maybe today she misses Jason so she lets out her affection on whoever’s closest, and Bruce is far from complaining.

“Has she been brushed yet? Her fur looks a bit matted.”

“I don’t know, but I can brush her now.”

“Yes, please do.”

Jason is too preoccupied by his gut feeling to worry about interacting with Bruce in such a manner, but the strangeness of it does not pass unnoticed by Dick and Barbara.
The only thing that has been consistent in Jason’s behaviour since he reentered their lives is how messy and inconsistent he is in his behaviour. He went through a lot of phases, his feelings about Bruce especially, but never would they have expected him to be bossy with him, at least not so early on. Yet here they are; Jason dictating every single one of Bruce’s moves while anxiously fidgeting with his hoodie string and pacing in a circle in his room.

It’s a good thing probably, that he’s capable of acting like this, since it means he trusts Bruce to care for Sarah. The alternative scenario would be him freaking out about Bruce being there with her, which could have happened and honestly is what Barbara initially feared would happen.

Maybe Jason has been getting even better than they thought, despite his current episode of paranoid anxiety. He’s not reacting to it in the worst way possible, which is progress. It’s also progress when he decides to sit down instead of lashing out, allowing himself to calm down a little as he slowly understands that Sarah is in no danger.

He’s still anxious, he’s short of breath and fidgets a lot and is very very concentrated on the screen, but he’s more composed than he would’ve been a few weeks ago—meaning he hasn’t thrown anything yet and hasn’t tried to kill himself as soon as they got home.

They stay with him because it’s the first time he’s holding a phone with internet access so they want to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid with it, and they stay quiet about it in case he hasn’t realized that. For now he’s probably only able to think about his cheetah, on his bad feeling that hopefully has no truth to it. Of course it’d be easy to dismiss Jason’s fear and see him as simply erratic and unstable, but Barbara doesn’t want to ignore what is clearly more than just a regular panic attack—though she doesn’t want to encourage it either. She asked Bruce if he could stay the whole day and he said yes, just to be sure, just so they can do their best to avoid another tragedy.

Since Jason’s energy levels stay high he starts to pace again, and after a while Barbara and Dick convince him to go down in the gym so he can spend some energy in ways other than stressing.

Dick holds up the phone so he can look at the screen while moving around in the hoop, but Jason barely does anything before settling in his man in the moon pose and grabbing the device so he can hold it himself and not miss a second of it.

“I can keep holding it for you, I think it’s important you do some exercise.”

Jason anxiously bites his lip, hesitant to give back the phone but nervous about consequences.

Dick understands that, proposes a compromise. “I can set up a tripod if you prefer. But please give exercise a bigger try, okay? At least for a couple of minutes.”

Incapable of saying no, the youngest complies and forces himself to move around a little bit while staring at the screen once it’s set up on the tripod Dick got from a corner in the room.

It’s hard because he’s distracted and with Bruce on the other end of the call plus Dick and Barbara watching he feels like he has to put on a show. He can’t do anything he struggles with and can’t do anything that stops him from looking at the screen, which doesn’t give him a lot left to do.

For a little bit he hangs upside down on the top bar, but with his heart beating like that he can’t stay as long as he would’ve liked.

Lightheaded, he takes a small break, drinks the water he’s handed and gets back in the hoop before he’s asked so they won’t get mad or impatient with him, ignoring the light fluttering his heart is doing.

Sarah looks fine and is acting fine, Bruce is following instructions, but the bad feeling won’t go away. His entire body is telling him that something bad is going to happen and he doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t know how to prevent it. Not only that but no one believes him, no one else can feel the weird stillness in the air, so they’re having him do hoop instead of listening to him.

That’s okay. He’s used to it. Roman had him work through bad feelings too, the worse one probably being the day his first social media manager confessed feelings to him. And he made it through that without himself or Roman getting hurt. Well… Roman definitely was annoyed and inconvenienced, but besides Mark, no one was physically hurt. Jason does still carry that day with him, still gets nightmares about it, but all in all it ended fine. So maybe today will end fine too. Maybe he’s just being dramatic.

Yes, that’s it. He’s just being dramatic. Like always. He’s just going to perform and then go to bed and tomorrow everything will be fine.

For a second, Jason visibly relaxes, and both Dick and Barbara relax a little bit too.

But then, next thing any of them know, Jason collapses.

𖦹

Alfred couldn’t resist using his fists first, but now doesn’t have time to gloat, or to feel the hollow victory. He confirms his kill and gets out of there immediately.

𖦹

It takes hours to get Jason to wake up. His heartbeat is dangerously slow and irregular, he stops breathing a few times for worrying amounts of time, and when he does wake up he’s incapable of putting together a coherent sentence.

“Jason?”

They can’t get him to focus his eyes either, and quickly he starts choking again as he can’t suck in a breath.

Thankfully they have an inhaler for him now, which they use, but it doesn’t make him more lucid.

“Can you focus on my fingers?”

He mumbles, says some half Spanish half English words, mixing up syllables, eyes still glossy and incapable of landing anywhere.

“Nod if you can understand me.”

He doesn’t.

At least when he fainted he fell from the lower bar and onto the mattress, so there’s no risk of actual injury on top of whatever’s happening. Was it a seizure? Was his bad feeling him anticipating it without knowing what it was? He never had a seizure before though, so why would it happen now when he never had one in the past year, not even at his worst moments health-wise? Has he ever had seizures before, when he was still with Roman? How has that never come up when he was talking about his anxiety and stuff? He used to threaten Bruce with his own medical problems, he definitely would’ve weaponized his seizures if he had any. Or maybe he never knew he had them, maybe it was never named or Roman kept that information from him.

For now all they can do is monitor him, Bruce very reluctantly staying back in case Jason comes to and demands to see his cheetah—that and Sarah must’ve felt something because she’s been acting a bit off since Jason fainted so it’s better to monitor her as well just to be sure.

“Should we call Dr. Thompkins?” Dick asks Barbara.

“I… yeah I think I we should.”

Last time she came by so Jason could get an inhaler, and the entire time Jason was very suspicious of her and uncomfortable whenever she approached him, not only that but he never answered any of her questions, he kept quiet no matter how many times they told him he could say the truth and no one would get mad. They’re lucky Leslie deals with victims of abuse regularly and knows how to navigate such situations, and though Jason never complied he never got angry or defensive either, nor did he try to stop Barbara and Harley from answering in his stead so Leslie could have enough information to prescribe him the right medication.
Since Jason is out of it maybe the doctor’s presence won’t make it worse, and maybe she’ll just see that Jason was dehydrated or hungry and all he needs to get better is to eat and drink more and that there’s nothing else wrong with him because he already has enough to deal with.

Dick takes care of calling her, she answers the second time and tells them she’s with a client, she’ll finish up with them and leave her daughter in charge while she comes over.

While they wait, Jason keeps going in and out of consciousness, never once gets lucid enough to respond or communicate in any way. It’s really worrying, but Dick and Barbara don’t talk about it, keeping their worst fears to themselves.

It’s easy to spiral, easy to look at him and think that there’s no way this isn’t really serious and life-threatening, easy to take the blame for it.

Later, when Leslie arrives, Dick goes down to let her in and bring her to Jason’s bedroom, explaining to her in more details what happened.
Once they’re all together Barbara gives more info and specifics since she’s been living with Jason for a bit and knows a lot about his episodes, mentions that it looked like a seizure but he never mentioned those before so she’s not sure if that is what it was.

They both anxiously watch the doctor then examine Jason, only talking to update Bruce who is losing his mind as well.

“I know you won’t like this,” she starts after interminable minutes of suspense, “but I’d like him to stay in my clinic at least for tonight so I can monitor him and examine him further. I am equipped for it, he won’t be in danger, I know how to deal with clients like these if he does start to process his surroundings again.”

𖦹

“I won’t make it tonight,” Bruce tells Alfred after calling home. “I have to stay at the shelter.”

“Why?”

“I’m keeping an eye on Sarah. Jason had a seizure today, she’s been restless since, Jason would never forgive me if I left her alone.”

“A seizure?” Alfred echoes, heart racing.

“He’s at Dr. Thompkins’ clinic for tonight, she wants to keep an eye on him. We don’t know what happened, he was already unwell since he woke up, he was panicking and sick, and then this afternoon he had what Leslie confirmed to be a seizure.”

The afternoon..? “At what time did he have it exactly?”

“One thirteen in the afternoon.”

The butler freezes. “What?”

“Why? What is it?“

“I…” He swallows dryly. “I shot Sionis at one thirteen in the afternoon.”

A big silence takes place. “You what?”

“I won’t apologize for it. Either you or Dick would’ve done it sooner or later, I figured it was best if I passed to action instead of you.”

Bruce stammers, struggling to articulate and doing his best not to be explosive because the cheetah that was currently napping on his lap has got up and stepped backwards the second she sensed his anger.

Obviously Jason felt it, he spend years as an extension of Roman, the bad feeling he was getting wasn’t about Sarah, he misattributed it to her because he probably never thought Roman could be in danger—or he thought that connection was severed.
Jason was always very sensitive, it shouldn’t be a surprise that his own body shut down as someone he depended on so much died, even if they haven’t been together or even seen each other in months. Such a heavy connection is not lost so quickly, especially not to Jason who stayed hooked all this time.

“You realize if he had been higher up in the air he could’ve broke something? Or worse, he could’ve missed the mat and hit his head? And even then, what if he dies now? What if he dies because his body simply decides to give up now?”

“I had no idea he was in the air, even less that he’d have a seizure, I’m—“

“His health is too fragile, he’s in no state to have more stress added onto him, he’s—“ He glances at Sarah, falls silent as he sees how scared she is. “I can’t do this right now, Alfred. We’ll talk about this when I get back.” He hangs up, takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself.

Jason will get better, he has to, and when he does, he can’t see Sarah be afraid of Bruce. She’s a part of him, he can’t let her be like this and not do his best to help—abandoning her would be abandoning Jason.

And maybe, just maybe, that by helping Sarah calm down and feel better right now it will make Jason get better too.

𖦹

Jason spends three weeks under observation before Leslie thinks it’s safe to have him go back to Barbara’s place.
During that time, she has noticed quite a few notable behaviours that she has not shared with his caretakers. What was the most worth of notice was that he seems to be hearing a voice from time to time, he does interact with it but never did he do anything to himself or his surroundings because of it. She tried bringing it up and he seemed very ashamed and embarrassed, when she insisted a little he cried and begged her to not tell anyone which she will respect because it’s important he knows he has rights and confidentiality with her. He didn’t say what kind of voice it is but based on how he interacts with it she’d guess it’s Roman’s voice.

He hasn’t been made aware of Roman’s passing, of Bruce buying the Diamond Agency afterwards, of anything related to that; they’re not actively lying to him, they simply don’t bring it up because it would do nothing good for now. Maybe one day he’ll be in the right state of mind for it but at the moment he needs a mundane routine and support, nothing else.

The first time he sees Bruce after it he immediately asks about Sarah, and in his immense gratitude to know Bruce stayed with her for a night and came every day afterwards he offers the oldest a genuine smile and thanks that Bruce spends the following days tearing up to whenever he thinks about it.

And though Jason slowly settles back into a liveable rhythm, there is an emptiness within him since his seizure not even Sarah can fill.

At least lyra helps a little bit, it reminds him of Roman enough to appease the heavy void in his chest and stomach.

His heartbreak becomes softer, more desperate, he lashes out very little, is a lot more subdued. He doesn’t really talk anymore, he has no idea why, the person he speaks to the most is Roman’s voice he hears in his head and even then he can’t always talk to him since he’s not always by himself.
He does cry often, most of the time when he’s doing lyra. Dick thinks it’s because he’s afraid since his seizure, but it’s just because he can’t stop thinking about Roman and there’s no way to think about him in a way that doesn’t end in tears.

Dr. Thompkins comes to visit him from time to time, he doesn’t like it even if she’s nice and doesn’t tell anyone about the voice, he just doesn’t feel comfortable around doctors. She gets that, she keeps her distances when she’s not listening to his heartbeat or his breathing, she doesn’t touch him unnecessarily, and she never mocks him for crying during the majority of her visits. Still, he never manages to relax around her, stresses out all day when he learns she’s coming to see him.

He hasn’t gotten another seizure, which instead of reassuring everyone they all seem more nervous, like they expect one to happen when they let their guard down and therefore they never do.

There’s a pile of mats under his lyra now and baby proofing on every sharp corner in the apartment so if he falls again he won’t get hurt, and whenever he gets dizzy or tired they immediately rush to him and overwhelm him with questions. He really doesn’t like it but he stays quiet, and simply finds his peace when he’s alone with Sarah in her enclosure.

He guesses this is his life now; a void inside him, a constant sadness, a cheetah over an hour away, and people who smother him trying to help.

Chapter Text

The doorbell ringing arouses Jason and Sarah from their afternoon nap in the sun. His cat runs to the door first, he smiles and follows her.

He opens the door after looking through the peephole, welcomes Barbara inside.

“There was a sale on the gluten free cookies you like so I got you two packs instead of one,” she tells him, grocery bags hung on her wheelchair.

“That’s nice, thank you.”

Today marks his thirty fifth birthday, but neither him nor Barbara acknowledge it. He doesn’t want to confront the fact that he’s aging, he doesn’t want to celebrate himself, he doesn’t want to have anyone else even remember that he has birthdays. So no one will bring it up.

“So how have you been today?” she asks as they put the groceries away together.

“Fine. A bit tired.”

“What about Sarah? She seems in a great mood.”

He looks at her running in circles around the place and smiles again. “She just had a nap so of course now she’s ready to perform.”

“Oh that reminds me, Dick finished taping the aluminum hoop, so he’ll bring it over when he comes by. Though if you’re too tired you don’t have to try it out today.”

“I’ll be alright, I’m not that tired.”

“Okay, then. Just be careful not to push yourself too much.”

He nods compliantly. “Sarah?”

She stops and perks up.

“Hup,” he says while pointing at the hoop hanging from the ceiling.

She chirps, gives herself a boost, and jumps through the lyra, then comes running over to him.

“That was good.” He pats her affectionately, turning to Barbara. “I think she’s excited for Dick to come over.”

Barbara doesn’t say anything, but she knows that means Jason is excited too; he’s been looking forward to this new hoop for a bit now.
The aluminum hoop is a lot less heavy, it doesn’t hold a spin the way steel ones do, so it’ll be easier for Sarah to line herself up and jump through when Jason is on it. They’ve been working on that for a while now, Jason doing figures in the air while Sarah jumps through, and a hoop that doesn’t spin as much will facilitate it a lot. The aluminum hoop they got also has two tabs instead of one, which means it’s held by two spansets, making it more stable for contortion moves. Jason will be able to do figures that require more flexibility without wobbling around in his steel hoop with only one point of attachment.

“I look forward to seeing your next show,” Barbara encourages.

Jason has indeed started giving little shows to scratch the itch for performance; after having spent so much time acting and being in the spotlight he grew so accustomed to it he craves it even now. With Dick and Harley’s help he puts together acts, Dick participating sometimes too but never enough to steal the attention as Jason cannot handle that. His audience usually consists of Bruce, Alfred, Barbara, Harley, Dick when he’s not participating, and Steph and Cass who have slowly been reentering his life now that he’s stable enough to interact with more people. Sometimes Tim comes along but they haven’t found a rhythm yet and Jason doesn’t feel comfortable performing in front of him, afraid that he’s going to steal his acts and do them better and therefore get all of the attention for himself. Damian too, though they get along relatively well, Jason struggles to see anyone younger than him as something other than a threat. Harley says it’s important he doesn’t avoid the two of them entirely, it’s okay if he doesn’t want to see them often but he can’t block them out if the only reason he has for it is insecurity, so she encourages him to see them from time to time and is always there to make sure it goes well and to talk about it afterwards.

The hardest part for Jason besides his insecurity about being older, is that being confronted with people who get to study and go to school and live their own lives forces him to grieve a past he wants to be disconnected from. He never got to finish high school, he never got to pursue further education and get a career he wanted, so seeing others get that when he couldn’t has him spiral quite a lot. It’s never enough to have him genuinely resent Roman, but sometimes he does start arguing with the voice he hears until it puts him back in his place and reminds him he was never meant for a classic normal life, that he was always meant for something better than that. His greatest tool isn’t his brain, it’s his body, education would’ve done nothing for him like porn has. Even now he uses his body more than he uses his brain. And that’s okay. He just was never meant to have the life he thought he wanted as a child.

After he finishes putting the groceries away with Barbara they sit at the table and go over what he needs for the next supply run.
He himself doesn’t leave this house and he doesn’t use delivery systems. He’s quite content here, on the outskirts of Gotham with no neighbours, a giant enclosure connected to the house so Sarah can go inside or outside whenever she wants, with such space and high ceilings that he can perform in his own living room, the first floor an open floor plan with no walls, and the second floor more intimate; with his bedroom and his own bathroom, plus a little reading nook.
Barbara or Harley bring him his groceries, there is never just men in the house when people come, they are always accompanied by a woman.
He has a cellphone for emergencies, but usually he only uses his landline. There’s no TV because when they tried installing one he only rewatched his old movies and fell into a very dreadful depression as it called to the void inside him and made him addicted to the pain of witnessing his past glory. He doesn’t want anything to do with the outside world, though it is true he misses performing for large audiences and receiving massive feedback and criticism because at least then he knew he was desired and knew what he had to improve. Still, most of the time he’s had enough of being so connected to the world all the time and is much more comfortable apart, able to concentrate on Sarah.

“I’m almost out of my night serum, and Sarah’s eye drops expire soon. She hasn’t needed them in a while but I think it’s better to restock just in case.”

“Alright, noted. What about food? Anything special you’d like? Or just something different?”

“No, the same as usual is fine.”

Barbara doesn’t insist. Jason eats the same things every week, he’s used to it and doesn’t really crave anything else, food doesn’t bring him joy like it used to so many years ago. He has no need for elaborate meals, and with the void constantly living within him he has no desire to get back into cooking.

“And are you okay with your laundry and dishes? Is there anything you need help with?”

“No, I’m alright.” In fact he finds it soothing to do house chores, it reminds him of his early days with Roman and it gives him something to do while listening to music.

He looks out through the glass wall giving view of Sarah’s enclosure and lets out a quiet sigh. The sun is shining brightly, it’s warm and beautiful, yet it does not seem to touch him.

Feeling the void grow inside him, he gets up and says “I’m getting a headache, I’ll just go in my room for a minute.”

Barbara doesn’t try to hold him back, lets him go upstairs, watches Sarah calm down and follow him as she senses something is wrong.

“No, it’s alright, you can go run downstairs,” he tells his cat who comes in the bedroom with him. “I’m fine, I don’t need company.”

But she settles on the bed before he can and chirps at him.

“It’s fine, I’m just…” He starts tearing up. “I dunno, I’m just tired, I miss him…” He gets in bed, lets himself fall on his back. “I just really miss him,” he cries softly as Sarah climbs on top of his chest, both his hands over his eyes. “I don’t want them to think I’m ungrateful, but… I miss home… I miss Roman…”

This kind of thing happens often, no matter how much time passes the grief remains just as present in his life. He’s sick of this pain, it hurts so much to think Roman probably forgot entirely about him now, and though Jason does want him to be happy, part of him still yearns to be desired at least a little bit by the person he cares about the most.

Sometimes he fantasizes about Roman coming here and them simply reuniting, but he knows that’ll never happen. Roman isn’t coming back for him, especially not now. His aerial skills won’t redeem him for all he’s done to his lover, for lying to him and forcing him to witness his fall from stardom after all the effort he put into it. Roman deserves better than that.

Like the disgustingly selfish person that he is, he still hopes that at the very least Roman hasn’t settled with anyone else, that he only has flings but no real relationship. It’s awful of Jason to wish that, and he berates himself for it everyday, yet it doesn’t stop him from hoping. His own hypocrisy disgusts him, he who made a living out of sleeping with others in front of his lover and is now hoping that his lover still stays loyal to him even if they’re not together anymore and haven’t seen each other in years.

He breaks into another wave of sobs as he imagines Roman living with someone else.

Sarah starts purring, putting all her weight over him.

“Do you remember when I used to believe in love?” he asks her. “When I thought it was enough?” He sniffles and sighs. “Maybe it’s just that… mine wasn’t enough… maybe if I loved him more, maybe if I loved him the right way he would’ve— he……. But then who would’ve taken care of you..?” He sighs again, wipes his tears even if they keep coming. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to abandon you, I promise. It’s just… Roman and I had a silent agreement, y’know..? Since before you were born. And he just… I just… I failed…”

If Sarah could understand English she’d find Jason very repetitive. He keeps talking about it, torn between wanting his ending and wanting to assure Sarah’s good health, but as always this episode ends after a little while and Jason calms because he simply has no choice, eventually he runs out of tears and tires himself out, and Sarah’s body weight on top of him keeps him calm and relaxed as he picks himself back up. No matter what he does, he’s here now and he’s in charge of his cat’s health; this is the life he has and because another life would be impacted by his demise he has no choice but to accept it and carry on.

Therefore he composes himself, erases the signs of his sorrow from his face, and goes back downstairs. “Sorry, I know I disappeared for a while.”

“No worries,” Barbara responds with a warm smile. “I’ve been catching up on my reading. Is your head better?”

He frowns. “My..? Oh. Right. Yes, it’s better.” He absently pats Sarah’s head. “I’m…” He glances at Barbara’s hand. “Can we do some decompressing..? Please?”

“Sure. Where do you want to do it?”

“At the— at the dinner table is fine. If it’s okay.”

“Of course.” She wheels herself to the dinner table, Jason coming too.

He sits at his usual place and reaches out a hand.

“Just the hand?”

He nods before leaning his head against his arm on top of the table.

She gently grabs him by the hand, allowing Jason to take a deep breath. The void is still very much present but human contact helps, it soothes the ache in a way even Sarah’s warmth and weight can’t.

Today is hard, even if he doesn’t acknowledge his birthday and avoids looking at the calendar part of him still knows that he’s ignoring something that weighs heavy in his heart.

He’s ashamed to ask for physical touch, he misses how simple it used to be with Roman and he knows everyone sees him as fragile and weak which doesn’t help, but he needs contact, he needs a buffer especially since he doesn’t smoke anymore. Sure he uses nicotine patches still to this day but they don’t calm him down enough. So right now he just needs some decompression time as they came to call it to be sure he’s going to be fine when Dick and Harley come over. He wants to try the aluminum hoop, he doesn’t want to feel like shit all day like he used to the months following his seizure. He is better now, he doesn’t want to go back the tiny steps he managed to take in a handful of years.

It’s embarrassing, his entire existence is, his seeming habit of dying every fifteen years and yet to never fully pass over and stay dead; he wishes his parkour through life wasn’t so chaotically filled with the highest highs and lowest lows. Dirty street kid, magic-filled hero, corpse, dirty street teen, mindless drone with repressed emotions, vengeful ghost, broken mess, lost ghost, stay at home boyfriend, sudden porn star, movie star, massive celebrity, ghost, broken mess again, delusional, catatonic, delusional again, the most broken mess he’s been, completely lost and beyond saving, still alive for some reason, cheetah caretaker, and whatever he is now; some heartbroken ghost who clings on to aspects of his stardom so he can convince himself that he still has some kind of worth and can keep the suicidal thoughts at arm’s length most of the time. He’s been a ghost more than he’s been anything else, and though Roman saved him for a while he shot him back into that state at the end—not that Jason didn’t deserve it, he still very much believes that he deserved to be abandoned for betraying Roman like he has.

If it weren’t for Sarah he wouldn’t still be there, that’s for certain. He’s been taking care of her since she was a cub, no one knows her like he does and they have a bond, if he died she wouldn’t be doing well like she is right now, she might not even survive.

At least the air isn’t so heavy right now. At least he gets to feel a bit of warmth instead of the absence of it. Shame is simply the price to pay for that small relief.

◌

By the time Dick and Harley arrive, Jason is able to feel the excitement he had about his new hoop. Though he can’t beat Sarah; she’s once again running all over the place because she knows when Dick is here she gets all the exercise she needs.

He tries not to seem impatient, takes his time to say goodbye to Barbara and to welcome in his new guests, but they must know anyway because they immediately start talking about the hoop before he even brings it up.

“It’s super light, here, hold it,” Dick says, handing it to him.

It’s still in its protective sleeve, Jason grabs it and despite being warned of its weight he still struggles adjusting to it, used to his steel lyra that weighs a lot more than that. He smiles softly. “It is very light.”

“Right? And sorry for the time it took me to tape it, I wanted it to be perfect so I kept starting over,” Dick adds when Jason peeks inside the sleeve. He’s been so nervous making sure the tape was laid out perfectly, aware that though Jason has changed and calmed about such things he’s still very much a perfectionist especially when it comes to his aerials.

And Jason can’t complain because he is grateful that Dick put that much effort into it despite feeling bad about it. “Thank you, though I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t bad, it was actually a fun way to occupy my hands while doing passive work.”

The youngest offers a polite smile, slightly reassured.

“Sorry to be the boring one, but did you eat already today?” Harley cuts in.

“A little bit, with Barbara.”

“If it was only a little bit, maybe we should all eat something before we start our warm up, right?”

He nods, compliant. She is right, he has to eat a little bit more if he wants to perform well, but it still feels contradictory to eat before a performance.

It helps to not be the only one eating, and he knows they eat more than him on purpose. They must’ve noticed he only eats a third of what they eat simply by habit, and though Harley and him had many conversations about it he still finds it hard to eat more. It’s not that he even thinks about it anymore, his brain does it by itself; he takes one bite for every five bites others take. On good days he’ll finish his plate but most of the time he leaves a few bites, which get put in the compost afterwards.

Today he’s not feeling that well, so he eats the bare minimum to not get faint or nauseous while he trains.

He’s never forced to do anything here. Harley says they all trust him, that no one can make him take care of himself besides himself. It’s strange, it’s still a concept he struggles with, and the lack of structure and rules is probably the hardest thing he’s had to adapt to. Becoming a porn star was easier than unbecoming one, and he knows at that time he used to miss simpler days of staying home and cooking but now he misses the days filled with work and energy, he misses the cameras and the ringing and interviews and parties, he misses everything he used to hate.

His shows are filmed, but he keeps forgetting they’re not posted, he always expects to hear feedback, to hear the fan response, and only after a few days does he realize that the videos stayed private.

It’s weird to not have every aspect of his life under a microscope, to have an audience shrink so much, to be disconnected from the rest of the world. The peace that comes with it is very difficult to come to terms with even if he does enjoy it.
He definitely still is under a microscope, but it’s so vastly different than what he’s used to that he doesn’t really experience it in any similar way. Every day he has visits to make sure he’s fine, he gets asked if he eats and if he sleeps, how he’s feeling, and he still has regular doctor visits to make sure his body isn’t about to fall apart. He’s still scrutinized, only now they just want to make sure he doesn’t die, they don’t care about his physical appearance or attitude in the slightest.

It’s hard to please people who say that they just want him to be happy, but he tries his best to give them just that.

Once they’re done eating, they start to warm up together.
Jason came to very much enjoy this, though at first he was reserved and anxious with time he got used to doing exercise with people other than Roman. It makes the void less unbearable, to have company during an activity that usually has him think a lot especially since he’s excited to go in the air.

Dick and Harley talk a lot too but they never expect or demand for him to talk more, they don’t leave long awkward pauses for him to fill and they don’t look at him expecting an answer to everything they say. He’s able to focus on his stretching while still being distracted enough to not get lost in thought. It’s a nice balance they struck, one that took a while but was worth the effort.

Once Jason is ready to get in the air, he switches out his hoops and puts the steel one against the wall. Harley who takes care of the rigging, sets it at the height of his stomach so he can come down easily for the time it takes to get used to the new equipment.

Eager and with a held back smile, Jason gets in.

Sarah does a happy little anticipating dance, stomping her feet and circling the hoop, waiting to be told to jump through it.
To prevent her from jumping too soon, Dick starts to play with her and give her ground commands so she can do something other than wait.

Meanwhile, Jason does every split trick he knows, doing easiest to hardest to familiarize himself with the hoop.
It’s a lot more stable because of the two points of attachment, and it’s a bit smaller than his other one so he can do contortions more comfortably.

The lack of wobbling has him even more excited, he spends less energy on worrying so he can go fully into his poses, plus the size of the lyra allows him to really push against it to go at the max of his flexibility.

As usual he receives a lot of encouragement, and just enough corrections to make the praise feel genuine.

“Can we pull it higher, please?” he asks as he gets down.

“To your usual height?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alrighty.”

Once the knot is secure, Jason grabs the bottom of the hoop and goes in his straddle before hooking his knees onto it. “I’m going to make her jump,” he tells Dick so he knows he can stop occupying Sarah.

Because he feels bad calling her attention with snaps, claps or clicking noises since that was used on him often and he always felt weird about it, he only says her name and does nothing else when he wants her to focus on him. It works, especially since she knows why she’s being called right now, and once she’s ready to jump he gives her the command.

As always, there’s a burst of warmth and a rush that traverses through him as Sarah jumps through while he’s hanging onto it. Carried by it, he lets his body flow into a sequence, remembering that life is a lot more beautiful than he thinks, finding his way back to the truest parts of himself.

Diamonds cannot be unmade. Sure he’s chipped and damaged, but he isn’t completely devoid of light. There’s still something inside him that’s alive and shining, it’s just covered in dried blood and mud but it’s there nonetheless.

If only he had gotten back to this earlier he could’ve performed on stage, but…

Well, right now it doesn’t matter. Right now he’s in the zone, he isn’t thinking about anything but the next movement he’s going to do.

He does have to improvise when he moves onto the top bar for his sequence, since there’s not just one spanset at the middle but two on each side, but he adapts without too much difficulty, stays focused and keeps following the flow he’s carried by.

He asks Sarah to jump a few times, she delivers every single one and the feeling it brings him never loses its intensity.

When he finishes his sequence, he stays in his final pose for a moment, catching his breath and basking in the comfort. Then he gracefully gets down, gives a treat to Sarah while Harley and Dick compliment him.

“I’ll have to work on your next costume quicker than I thought,” the psychiatrist tells him with a big smile.

For the rest of the day they work on a new sequence, Harley doing the pulling and Dick filming so Jason can see what he has to improve.

When the training comes to an end, Harley proposes that Dick accompanies Jason to feed Sarah while she prepares their own dinner, and though it’s unusual, Jason isn’t too scared to agree.

Jason fetches Sarah’s meal from the fridge and goes outside with her and Dick following.

“Do you mind if I talk to you about something?” Dick says once they’re alone in the outdoor enclosure.

The youngest frowns, a bit nervous. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing bad, I’d just like to get something off my chest. About when we were kids.”

A moment of silence. “… okay.” If it weren’t for hours of training, Jason probably wouldn’t be able to hear whatever Dick wants to say to him. But he’s tired in a good way, warm and mostly appeased, so he’s confident enough to hear him out.

“I, uh… I’m sorry, for having been cold and distant with you at first. And just straight up mean. I… I didn’t know how to feel with Bruce just taking in another kid right after I left and I took it out on you, I was stupid and I just… you were so nice and shy and you just wanted to be my friend and I thought… I don’t know why it made me so angry, in my head you were proof that Bruce didn’t love me as anything other than a sidekick so… it was easier to take it out on you than on him. And I’m so sorry for that, I regret it everyday, if I had been there, if I hadn’t kept you at arm’s length for so long, if I had been nice to you since the start, then… I’m sorry. I just…. I need you to know that I’m sorry and I know I should’ve done better, if I had, then… then things would be easier, they wouldn’t have… they wouldn’t have gone down the way they have.”

For a few seconds, Jason stares at Dick, still frowning. This is definitely not what he expected, he never thought Dick felt guilty about such a thing simply because he himself was never mad at Dick for it. “I don’t blame you for the past,” he lets out a bit hesitantly. “I never thought anything like that was your fault, you… you had things to do, people to save, and I was just the new kid, I get it. I’m not angry about you living your life, I don’t think anything was your fault…. And you were nice to me eventually, I don’t think there was anything you could’ve done differently.” He can’t believe Dick still thinks about such a thing.

And Dick can’t believe Jason doesn’t hate him for it. “But I let you get hurt, I—“

“You didn’t let me get hurt,” Jason interrupts, confused. “You were already more than I ever thought I’d have, I never thought you had to protect me or anything like that. You taught me a lot of things anyway, why would I have expected more from you?”

“Because you’re my little brother and I should’ve loved you from the start.”

“I— I don’t think that’s how it works. And I’m not… I… I don’t know. I don’t know what to tell you, I’m sorry you feel bad for something like this, I never even thought anything remotely similar. You didn’t let me down when we were kids.”

“But I did, though, I did let you down, I treated you like shit and you should hate me for it.”

“What? No, I… why would you want me to hate you? You’re the one who taught me most of what I know in aerials, you gave me the mantle of Robin, you even let me come along for some missions. I am grateful for that, for what you’ve given me in my past life. I’m another person now but I don’t take what you did for granted, and I don’t resent you for acting like what I’m pretty sure every older sibling acts like.”

Dick falls silent. He kinda hoped for a fight, for Jason to scream at him and tell him that he was a bad brother, so that his guilt might be justified and acknowledged. But instead he’s forced to consider the possibility that he might not be as horrible as he thought he was.

And then, Jason adds the killing blow: “I could not have asked for a better brother.”

But the emotion and openness of the moment is hard to deal with, and Jason decides to walk away, afraid of his own feelings and those of Dick.

“Everything alright?” Harley asks when he walks inside.

“Just gonna— I’m just gonna go change,” he croaks out awkwardly before hurrying upstairs.

“So you’ve lied to me for years about this too,” Roman’s voice echoes in his ears.

Jason closes his bedroom door. “I didn’t lie, I… I don’t know, I don’t know anything, I’m sorry…”

“You said you were done with that life.”

“I am, I just… he doesn’t deserve to think such things, I was just… I just wanted to be nice, I’m sorry, I… I shouldn’t have been honest…”

“You shouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place.”

“So what am I supposed to do? I’m not the Jason they knew anymore and I’m not a star either, so what’s left? I’m trying so hard to make this work but I just… I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m doing, I just wanna take care of Sarah and fly, that’s it, I’m sick of complications…”

“You’re such a stupid fucking bitch, it’s pathetic.”

He bites his lip, holds back tears.
His hands are closed tightly, his body tight, he tries to hold on to the warmth and happiness he had mere minutes ago.

He’s well aware that he’s oscillating between personalities, that he can’t latch onto one identity and stick to it. He himself has no idea who he is, he tries to just go with the flow and not obsess over himself as to avoid nervous breakdowns, but right now he’s torn to a point where he can’t ignore it. By addressing their past brotherhood, Dick forced him into a position where Jason had no choice but to admit he even remembers those days, which is something Roman never wanted him to do. The past is past, but now his days with Roman are part of the past too and Jason has no idea what string to follow anymore. Roman left him, his ex-family came back. What is he supposed to do?

He misses being told what to do, what to think. It was easier to exist when he had a persona crafted for him. Without it he’s overflowing with emotions and contradictions and humanity and it’s so exhausting.

What was the right way to respond to Dick? What should he have said instead? He doesn’t want Dick to feel bad about the past like that, he never was angry at him for how they were, he never blamed him not even when he came back and devoted himself to vengeance. And it must’ve been weighing heavy on Dick if even after all these years he still feels the need to apologize, so why should Jason respond in a way other than to try and alleviate his sorrow?

“Jason?” Harley’s voice startles him. “Dinner is ready, would you like to come down or do you prefer eating alone in your room?”

He swallows, rubs his eyes. “I— I don’t know.”

“Can I come in?”

“I dunno…”

“Alright, I’m gonna come in, but if you want me to leave tell me, I won’t get mad.”

He looks at her with the most desolate expression when she comes in, sat on the floor in the middle of his room. “I don’t know what to do, who to be,” he lets out weakly.

“That’s okay. No one really knows that either. It’s confusing, but it’s not a problem. Do you remember what we say about things like these?”

He nods. “This situation is uncomfortable but not dangerous…”

“There you go. It’s normal to be uncomfortable, you don’t have to hide that. What really matters right now is that you eat, so we can focus on that. That’s the next step to take, you don’t have to look back or ahead of that.” She holds out a hand. “I’ll stay over tonight if you want me to.”

He rubs his eyes again with one hand, grabbing Harley’s with the other. “Okay…”

When he gets down and helps Harley bring the food to the table, he avoids looking at Dick, unsure of how to behave, who to be.

He keeps internally reminding himself that this situation is in uncomfortable but not dangerous, that the only thing he needs to do right now is eat so he’ll keep the strength he needs to fly.

As he eats he realizes just how hungry he was, it’s still something he struggles with since he’s so used to starving it can take him hours to realize it, and it still surprises him when eating helps him feel better.
He regains some energy and eventually is well enough to risk a glance at Dick, and sees that he has reddened eyes as if he cried earlier.

Moved by guilt, he tries to get himself to offer some contact to help, to show he’s sorry, but he doesn’t manage to do it.

For the rest of dinner he attempts to convince himself to do it, but he can’t get himself to reach for him. At least not until it’s time for Dick to leave, and finally Jason puts out a slightly trembling hand, whole body tense.

Dick looks at him, confused. “Are— are you sure..?” He hasn’t touched him since the Halloween Ball, he’s still haunted by that night, and never has Jason sought out physical contact from him.

But the youngest nods, keeps his hand out.

Dick slowly reaches back, but doesn’t dare grab his hand or even touch him in the slightest, leaving Jason to do the final effort.

Jason doesn’t hold him, simply puts his hand against his, not ready yet to hold or be held by a man. After all this is the first time he willingly touches a man in… way too long.

“I— I was never angry at my brother… and that still stands today… but if you need to hear it, I… I forgive you.”

“…… brother..?”

He nods shyly. “Brother.”

The evening seems clearer, the air lighter. Dick pinches his lips into a smile, does his best to hold back his feelings as to not overwhelm Jason.

And on that night, they separate as brothers, without a grudge and without any resentment. Things might take time, but brothers will always find their way back to each other. It’s why the sun rises every morning.

Chapter Text

The show he puts on with his aluminum hoop earns him quite a lot of praise once it’s over. His face glistens, his chest is heaving, but he’s glowing with joy and pride as he receives his hard-earned feedback.

He knows he did well when neither Bruce nor Alfred can say anything because they’re too busy getting ahold of their tears, looking at him like he’s the greatest performer they’ve ever seen. They’re biting down on their lips, hands closed tightly, clearly with so many things that they want to say yet unable to utter their praise yet. Knowing them, it’ll be the next time they see each other that they’ll go back on the performance move by move, saying how amazed they were by everything.

Sarah gets her fair share of applause as well, though she gets treats instead of flowers.

Basking in the high, Jason stays in his costume and makeup for a while, happily staying closer to his Red persona without completely losing himself in it either. He just feels light and confident, like Red was, all of the hard work he put into this act made it look effortless and that’s what his stardom was all about. Only this time there’s no sexual comments, no weird looks, only platonic admiration. It’s refreshing.

But that feeling doesn’t last forever. Once everyone but Harley leaves, when he’s taking off his makeup and getting changed, he sobs and counts his bruises, asking Harley if she thinks Roman would’ve been proud, if he was pretty enough to be loved for more than a few hours, if he didn’t look too old or bulky or ugly.

Harley stays by his side and helps him out, reassures him and makes sure that his current mood doesn’t turn into a crisis. It happens after every show, they have a good safety net at this point and things rarely escalate anymore, but it pains Harley every time to see Jason stay so deluded about his relationship with Roman. Often she has the urge to tell him the truth, that Roman was an abusive piece of shit who is now thankfully six feet under, but saying that would only make things worse. Jason doesn’t think Roman will come back for him anymore, doesn’t believe they’ll ever see each other again, so there’s no danger in avoiding telling him of the Crime Lord’s death.

It’s hard for him to regulate his emotions, so he’ll spend the next few days resting, with no visitors except Harley. Performing takes a lot out of him, physically and emotionally, so they’ve found out it’s best to limit his social interactions afterwards. Sometimes it takes him three days, sometimes a week, there’s no set recovery time, Jason takes as much as he needs with only support and no judgement.

This time he’s ready for visits after six days, and the first that always comes is Barbara. They take a little stroll outside together then they read on the couch for a few hours, comfortable and content.

A few days later it’s Steph and Cass who come over, and with them they do a bit of gardening because Steph got into it and persuaded Jason to give it a shot.

“This is harder than lyra,” Jason complains lightheartedly.

“You’ve just been gardening for less time than you’ve been doing hoop, that’s why,” Steph replies with an encouraging smile. “It’ll get better with time.”

He looks at his dirt-covered hands. “Hm.” He takes a second to think. “I’ve only fake gardened before, I knew it was harder than it seemed, but… I dunno. And apparently the issue with those pictures actually got some people into gardening,” he says a bit sadly, pained as he thinks back on his stardom but not moved to tears like he would’ve been a few years back. “I wonder if they struggled with it that much too.” Then he adds to himself “probably not.”

“Y‘know, it took me like a year to get anything to grow. Progress is progress, no matter how long it takes.”

Jason sighs wistfully.
He feels Cass move next to him, looks at her slowly put her hand over his. She’s always very careful to not take him by surprise, to let herself and her intentions known with him since she usually moves like a ghost by habit.

The contact appeases him a little, but regret and longing weigh heavy in his heart at the moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to ruin the mood.”

Cass taps on his hands gently while Steph reassures him with words. “You know you’re allowed to speak about it. You don’t have to keep it all in.”

“It’s nothing, I’m just being dramatic. I’m just… I am grateful for everything you’re all doing for me, I am. I’m sorry I struggle showing it correctly, I…”

“We know you are, it’s okay, and we’re happy to help. No need to apologize.”

He takes a deep breath, Cass squeezes his hand slightly. “It’s just… it’s hard, y’know..? Even after years I’m still… I wish it was easier for me…”

“I’m pretty sure this wouldn’t be easier for anyone, it’s all big life stuff, change is always hard.” She looks over the patch of dirt, a wide smile appears on her face when she sees a little sprout. “But no matter how long it takes, we always find a way to grow,” she adds, pointing at it.

A shy burst of pride warms Jason’s cheeks.

The three of them stare at the sprout, joy painted on their faces, a pleasant fulfillment in their hearts.

Things are getting better. This is proof of that.

◌

Only Harley is aware of what Jason is doing. She gets him what he needs, keeps the secrets, helps him hide his new things from everyone when they come over and helps him practice.

It takes him a few months to be ready, he demotivates easily and gets frustrated over his slow progress frequently, but he prevails nonetheless and when the time comes Harley sends out the invites.

On the day of the surprise, Harley helps him manage his stress and excitement while they set up everything and he does the final preparations. Organizing such a thing does have his perfectionism spike, he obsesses over the smallest things no matter how many times Harley tries to tell him it doesn’t matter and no one will care. He just needs everything to be perfect and to go well, every detail has to fit into each other, leaving no place for a mistake.

Because of that Harley makes sure everyone is prepared and knows what’s coming, reminds the younger ones to not monopolize the conversation and for everyone to not talk about school or work as to not trigger Jason. This is a big step and it all came from Jason, it’s important that he learns his own ideas and doing them can go well, he has the capacity to make choices and to want things and those choices and things have the potential to be enjoyable.

The order of who arrives first and at what time is planned too, Barbara arrives, then Steph and Cass, third arrival is Dick and after that Tim, ending with Bruce, Alfred and Damian. There’s about ten minutes between each arrival to make sure Jason has time to regulate and isn’t overwhelmed by a sudden crowd since he’s never had everyone over all at once before.

He’s all dressed up, Sarah is wearing her harness with a big pink bow on it, and all of his guests adhered to the dress code. It’s not too fancy, but it isn’t casual either, not gala level but still a special occasion.

The first course Jason presents sets the mood for the rest of lunch; genuine enthusiasm and joy upon seeing him cook again keeps the air light and pleasant. Jason hasn’t done more than cook an egg in years, usually his meals are very easily prepared and require only to be set on the stove or in the oven, and though Harley said he made food no one expected it to be such a big thing. They thought he’d work his way up to it, start with something simple, but they should’ve known Jason never does things halfway.

All of the vegetables used are ones he grew himself, and when Steph guesses it and everyone learns that it makes a few of them quite emotional.

Bruce is the one that fights tears the most; after all the last time he was at a dinner table with Jason his son was drugged out of his mind, bruised and in desperate need of help, and now Jason is gleaming, happy, invited them all by choice and presenting what he made from his own garden, what he grew, what he cultivated, what he took care of for months, and is now sharing it with them, with him.

Meanwhile, Damian is petting Sarah, concentrated more on her than on anything else as he always is when he comes here. It’s not that he doesn’t care, he and Jason lived together for a while with the League, Jason took care of him with Talia, but he has difficulty empathizing since he saw how strong and intelligent Jason is, he still struggles wrapping his head around the fact that someone was able to take all of that power away from his brother. He’s been through enough therapy to know he can’t blame Jason for his downfall, but he still finds it hard to understand despite he himself having manipulated Jason often as a kid to get extra minutes of training and studying, and to get meals he cooked instead of the servants. He knows Jason is passionate and empathetic, fully ready to bend over backwards to please others while acting like that’s not what he’s doing at all, but to do that for some random criminal? That’s where Damian gets lost. And right now with half the table on the verge of tears, he prefers to distract himself to avoid saying something insensitive.

Tim, feeling that he doesn’t really have a right to be here, focuses on the cat too. He has no idea why he’s even been invited, he knows Jason is still a bit suspicious of him and overall uncomfortable around him, and he knows it’s not his place to feel the kinds of things Bruce, Dick, Barbara and Alfred are feeling right now. He never got to really meet Jason, he met his ghost, Bruce’s image of him, but they never got to share brotherhood together like he did with Dick and Damian. He admired Jason, but when Jason came back he saw him as an enemy and then immediately disappeared once his whole revenge plan failed, and Tim had to once again live with the lack of a presence in the family. He is happy for Jason now, seeing him do so well after years of work, but he doesn’t feel like he’s part of Jason’s family. He’s on the side, probably an afterthought, surely only invited because Jason didn’t want to appear impolite. Which is fine, he doesn’t expect Jason to bond with him at this point, it’s probably too late for that.

Sarah enjoys the attention, though she never stays far from Jason for long especially today. She circles back to him every few minutes, and every time he pets her affectionately, helped by her presence to stay calm. This is hard for him, he’s overwhelmed, anxious, shy and excited, he wants to make sure everything goes well and everyone has a good time so much he forgets to breathe sometimes.

Harley gives him little reminders that don’t draw attention as often as she can, but she can’t catch every time he holds his breath and starts to panic because someone blinked in a way that he interprets as pure hatred for everything he’s done today and who he is as a person.
Thankfully none of those little moments get out of control, Jason is doing remarkably well and his desperation to have things be perfect is the glue keeping him together. He simply refuses to be the cause of what he’s dreading, and so he decides that even if everyone hates him right now he’ll keep acting like he has no idea and will simply fall apart once he’s alone.

It’s also a choice for Jason to not acknowledge how emotional certain guests are, if he did he’d be even more overwhelmed and would feel guilty and responsible, so it’s easier to simply act like he doesn’t notice. It’s fine when he gets people to cry over his shows because that simply means he performed well, but to make people cry because he’s cooking for the first time in years feels too big and personal. He knows he’s come a long way but he still feels bad doing better without Roman, and he has grown attached to the void who slowly takes less and less place inside his chest, his suffering has always been such a big part of his identity he gets scared when he feels too happy, he doesn’t want to be doing too well therefore he doesn’t want to see just how big his progress is by seeing others be moved by it.

A progress he doesn’t really think about anymore is physical touch with Dick, which is something he’s grown very accustomed to in not as much time as he thought it would take. Practicing aerials made it easier, Dick being able to touch him to help him into certain poses has helped them get closer a lot, but no one other than Harley has seen them share some contact yet, which means that when Jason puts his hand on Dick’s shoulder as he sets down his plate and Dick replies by touching his hand to thank him, everyone else stares, unsure that they really saw what happened correctly.

Jason, currently focused on bringing the plates over, doesn’t immediately notice, but Dick does and smiles shyly without saying a word. He doesn’t want to put Jason on the spot by acknowledging it out loud, surely it would make his brother uncomfortable and might even trigger him; Dick saying that yes he’s allowed to touch Jason now, especially phrasing it as some kind of accomplishment. Jason’s physical affection isn’t a prize to be won, it isn’t something to flaunt, it’s simply a symbol of comfort that Dick is very keen on cherishing and handling correctly.

When their host sits down after distributing everyone’s food, he finally notices that his guests are confused, but he’s not sure why. “Is something wrong?” he asks a bit hesitantly, his heart racing and getting back up, ready to fix whatever problem there is.

Tim turns towards Sarah. Damian feels too close to being blunt and he knows that’s not what’s needed right now, so he turns towards Sarah too. Bruce opens his mouth to answer but he’s scared of saying the wrong thing.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Barbara replies upon seeing everyone else struggling. “Everything’s perfect, you can sit back down.”

He looks around the table, confused, decides to keep acting. “O-Okay.” He takes a breath, puts his smile back on, and explains what this next dish is. He’s used to acting even when afraid or uncomfortable, he’s pretty sure no matter how long it’s been this is a habit he won’t ever get rid of and he’s very glad of that in moments like these.

For a little bit Harley is the person who leads the conversation, she does her best to have everyone get back to the rhythm they had earlier to ease Jason’s anxiety. Dick puts as many efforts, really not wanting Jason’s trust to be broken or to make him feel like it was a mistake to get better, but he’s not a professional like Harley and he doesn’t know Jason as well as she does so he lets her take the lead.

It takes a moment, Jason’s anxiety is very much persisting, but upon seeing how uneasy he is it does force the others to gather their composure and move on so they don’t ruin all of his efforts for this lunch.

For the third course he does get very nervous, since people got weird as he served the second one, so this time he seeks even more contact from the people he’s fine touching, not yet realizing that’s exactly why his guests acted weird in the first place.

He squeezes Harley’s hand, same with Barbara’s and Dick’s, takes a deep breath and carries on. By instinct he keeps glancing at the head of the table, but the seat is empty. He wanted it that way, only Roman is allowed to eat there, he doesn’t want anyone at that place not even himself, but when he’s performing and uncomfortable and unsure of what to do he still finds himself searching for guidance from his manager.

“You’ve acted in worse situations than these, don’t disappoint me,” he hears Roman say.

He nods dutifully. He won’t mess this up, it’s true he’s performed under worse conditions and for once he’s not being ignored as he feels nervous, he’s actually getting some emotional support. He has no reason to fail.

The entire meal contains five courses, all vegan for Damian, he prepared it all this morning except for a few things that had to rest overnight like the bread, and though it is hard to cook and see what he made be eaten by people who are not Roman, the void isn’t heavy enough to have him cry while there’s still people around. He’s been preparing for this for a little while, he knew Roman wouldn’t be there, he was prepared for it, so it’s not a big deal.

It’s just… it feels like a big deal, but he knew what was going to happen.

Everything is fine. He can keep acting.

He also serves everything by himself as he always does, he’s the one that made it therefore he’s the one that presents and shares it, he always hated when other people handled the food he made before he gave it to them. It’s been disclosed in advance to his guests so they wouldn’t insist on helping him but they still offered simply because they couldn’t resist, though they didn’t ask again once Jason politely declined.

But Dick quietly offers a second time since Jason grabs his hand again, to which Jason offers a small smile and a gentle “no thank you.” It feels more like when Dick offers to spot him for certain moves in aerials, not like he’s pushing and ignoring a previous ‘no’ so Jason doesn’t get stressed by it, even appreciates being asked. Not only are they brothers but they are both aerialists, things are different between them than they are with others. Jason doesn’t interpret their contact like he would with someone else, sure he still gets gross thoughts sometimes and he’s not always secure with his own feelings towards his relationship with Dick, but they are close nonetheless.

Dick has been avoiding talking about how well things are going with Jason not only to keep Jason’s trust but also because it simply feels wrong to talk about it. He knows Bruce would take it as quite a hit even if he’d be happy at the same time, same for Alfred, so it’d be weird to share it even if Jason didn’t mind. Of course the others suspected things were going remarkably well upon seeing Dick do heavily complicated things on the trapeze again, but no one asked for the same reasons Dick never told.

By the time everyone has finished lunch, things have gone back to a more comfortable and relaxed tone, though some questions still hang in the air silently, wanting to be asked but never will be. Jason clears the table, serves the non-alcoholic drinks he made and for quite a bit they simply talk around the dinner table.

In that moment Jason feels quite proud, he arranged this whole lunch party and though there’s been hiccups it was never actual problems, and now people are simply speaking and smiling which means they made it through the hardest part. Eating is always a challenge, especially when there’s so many people present, but no one commented on how he ate and how much, nor did they comment on each other’s eating habits, they all enjoyed the food and now they’re enjoying the mocktail while conversing. They made it to the conclusion without disasters.

Sarah does get the zoomies at some point so Jason brings her in her outside enclosure to avoid her knocking something over inside, and as he turns around, Damian is there, behind him. He jumps, puts a hand over his heart and lets out a short breath. “I didn’t know you followed me, sorry.”

“Can I stay here with her? I don’t want to stay sitting while I digest.”

“Uh, sure, of course. Her toys are in the box as usual.”

Damian nods, Jason smiles politely and starts to walk away.

“Jason?”

He turns around. “Yes?”

“I don’t want to say this in front of everyone else, so I’m going to say it now. Today was fun. I’m glad we’re a family again.” He looks down. “I missed you.”

A shy, genuine smile replaces the polite one. “I, uh… I missed you too.”

They don’t look each other in the eye.

“You went back to Talia for a while, right..?”

Damian nods.

“How is she?”

“She’s been worried about you a lot. I’ve had to talk her out of coming to Gotham and pulling you out quite a few times.”

Jason chuckles softly. “I appreciate that, thank you.”

Damian slowly looks back at him. “Maybe… maybe I should’ve let her…”

“Well I guess I would have preferred being with her than with Bruce at first…”

“No, I mean when you were with Sionis.”

Hearing his name has his heart tighten. “I didn’t need help back then. Though… I know you all think I did, I understand why you’d have that impression, but really I was happy. One day you’ll meet someone and you’ll understand.”

“So if I were to end up in a relationship like yours you’d be fine with it?” Damian asks a bit provocatively.

An unwilling grimace appears on Jason’s face. “Well— no, not… not like mine, no, it’s… it was different with me.”

“Why?”

“It just was.”

Damian considers him, tries to hold off his confrontational habits. “It’s simply that I remember your face when you’d tell me stories about love, you wanted a Prince Charming, and I’m sure you could’ve gotten one, so… I don’t understand. And I don’t think I ever will.”

Jason takes a breath. “I know. None of you will understand, I’ve made peace with that.”

“… but..?”

“But what? There’s no buts, you don’t understand some of my choices, that’s alright, it’s not like I understand some of yours. I’m not angry about it.”

Not wanting to turn this into an argument, Damian acquiesces despite the urge to push. “Fair enough.” It really gets to him to see someone he always looked up to be so blind. To remember Jason make heart eyes whenever he’d start talking about Mr. Darcy or any romantic fictional character, to hear him talk about how high his standards are for love and it’s why he’d never end up in a relationship because no one in real life is that dreamy and he refuses to settle, to grow up alongside someone who so clearly knew what they wanted only to end up in the situation he did is so… mind boggling. Frustrating. He talked Talia out of killing Sionis and taking Jason back home because he thought surely it couldn’t be that bad, surely they only had the smallest crumbs of information and couldn’t act like they knew what was going on, surely Jason wouldn’t let someone do all of that to him and therefore fame was a choice, surely no one could destroy his brother like that. He sees how wrong he was now, and he knows none of this would have happened if only Jason never left home in the first place, if only Talia had talked him out of his revenge. They could’ve went to Bruce together, they could’ve been a real and full family since the start, and he would’ve been the only one to manipulate Jason for his own personal gain. The amount of Jason’s famous sandwiches and mac’n cheese he could’ve eaten over the years and the amount of missions he could’ve been on with Bruce because Jason vouched for him is incalculable, but instead of doing that Jason was being manipulated into selling his body to fatten a criminal’s wallet.

“You should call her soon,” Damian ends up saying before Jason leaves. “She really wants to hear from you.”

Jason hasn’t dared do that yet because he was too ashamed and thought maybe Talia wouldn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but now he might give it a shot if Damian says that she would appreciate it. “I will,” he replies.

Back inside, he excuses Damian’s and his short absence as he settles at the table. Things haven’t derailed when he wasn’t there, everyone is still smiling and now including him in the conversation again, nothing seems to be wrong.

In the afternoon, people start to leave, though they would stay longer it’s been agreed upon that they need to give Jason time to recuperate and not overwhelm him by staying too long. Jason says his farewells to each guest, very much feeling the tiredness starting to take over and glad that everyone leaves now so they can end on a good note.

Harley is the last to leave, makes sure he’s okay mentally and assures that she’ll be there if he needs her to come back for some support.

Because he has the task to call Talia he can’t immediately unwind, his head has decided to take it as work and therefore he cannot end his day when he still has something to do.

He walks to his landline, sees a tiny scrap of paper folded next to the dresser. He grabs it, looks at it. It’s Talia’s number. Damian must’ve left it there and Jason is very glad because only now does he realize he doesn’t know it by heart anymore.

He holds the phone for a second, staring at the number. His heart is racing, his mouth dry, but his freeze response has been beaten out of him a while ago, so he dials it despite.

The phone barely has time to ring once. “Jason?”

“I— hi, how— how did you know—“

“Damian told me you might call. Oh, my little Icarus, how are you feeling? You must allow me to come see you, do you know how cruel it is to keep your own mother in the dark like you have?”

A surge of warmth and familiarity wash over him, suddenly he’s sixteen again being scolded by Talia for running off, the nickname especially bringing him back to those days. “I’m sorry,” he lets out, suddenly on the verge of tears. “I didn’t— I thought you might hate me, I thought…”

“Hate you? You think I would hate you? That’s it, I’m coming over now, I must wring this nonsense out of you in person.”

“Talia, I—“

“It’s alright, I’ll stay on the line until I’m there.”

Even more warmth floods him. All the times Roman refused to stay on the phone while he was crying and desperate for comfort have left him particularly sensitive to such a gentle display of care. “O-Okay.”

“Have you been eating well? How about sleep? You know your father and brothers are awful at giving reports, it’s like they’re afraid of clarity.” In the background he can hear her move, walking fast and giving orders to her men.

“Yes, I— I have been eating and sleeping fine, I’m… I’m fine.”

“Do you still get those awful night terrors?”

“Well, not— not like those I used to, I don’t think.”

“What does that mean?”

“I still get nightmares but it’s not like… it’s not like it used to be.”

“Well are they still night terrors?”

“I guess some of them are… but they’re not as frequent…”

“Poor thing, alright I’m getting on the jet now, I’ll be there soon.”

“You don’t have to,” he croaks out shyly, feeling a bit guilty.

“Of course I do. I shouldn’t have stayed away this long, I shouldn’t have trusted the world to take care of you, now I’m going to rectify that mistake.”

◌

Sarah is a bit agitated from the noise outside, but that agitation turns into excitement when she sees someone new coming in that Jason clearly likes.

Talia runs to her son, grabbing him and pulling him in without a word, her head over his, her arms around him.
After years of convincing himself that she hated him for forgetting all that she taught him, Jason simply disappears into her embrace, turns back into that young teen that ran off to do stupid things every few nights and yet that would always be welcomed back with open arms.

He hasn’t felt that connected to his past self in so long, as if he realizes only now he hasn’t died again since he was fifteen. Talia still feels like a mother despite all this time, maybe because he never said goodbye to her. He just… lied to himself, telling himself she wanted to do nothing with him anymore so it wasn’t even worth trying to contact her again, so he never really tried to separate himself from her emotionally, all he did was assume that’s what happened. He never had to see her as Red, he never had to act in front of her, she hasn’t been anything else other than a mother in his life. Maybe that’s why he feels no resistance towards her and her closeness.

For the first time ever he actually has the time to realize just how much he regrets leaving the home he found with her and Damian. All the things he missed out on, the life he could’ve had if he had listened to the only person in the world who never saw him as a weapon to yield or an object to sell. He would have had his dream education, and he could’ve had a career he knows he’s ill-suited for and doesn’t deserve, but… he could’ve at least tried to make something out of it for at least a moment.

On a whim, he opens his mouth to tell her he wants to go back to his studies, but Roman’s hand around his throat stops him. The only thing he has that’s worth working on is his body, not his mind.

He’s never going to study again.

Chapter Text

He revises his notes for the quiz while drinking tea with Alfred. He’s glad he can do this with him because for a little while he felt strange around Alfred for no reason, almost suspicious, and it made him feel really guilty. The feeling has calmed now, it’s not as overwhelming as it used to be, just more like an itch now that he manages to ignore most of the time.

As for the quiz, he didn’t even have the chance to admit how badly he missed studying, the second Talia learned he wasn’t doing that anymore she very easily convinced him to try again, practically gave him no choice—and for once Jason appreciated that. Because he’s legally dead and all that he can’t officially get a diploma, but because of that it means he can study whatever he wants without following the linear process of learning given by the government. He tried to finish high school but he didn’t manage no matter how hard he tried, so he moved onto specific subjects like literature and human sciences.

It’s not everyday that he manages to study, and he doesn’t manage to do it alone because Roman’s voice gets too loud in his head and paralyzes him, his progress is slow and he really struggles using his head but like the lyra, now that he has the opportunity to do it he simply cannot resist it. Talia helps a lot too because no matter how badly he does she keeps believing in his academic capacity just as much as she used to when he was young. She simply refuses to be swayed by his difficulties like he is, she never gets angry or impatient, she never stops trusting him. She keeps comparing him to Icarus but says that he gets to have a second chance, and before that nickname was more of a warning; Talia saw where Jason’s ambitions might lead him and did her best to tell him, and now the nickname is more than simply a warning. He flew too close to the sun, he has fallen, burned, broke, what she feared would happen happened because Jason never had to limit himself before. Growing up poor meant the limits were set for him, indulgence was never an option, and romance never felt like a possibility for him. So he found a flame and threw himself in because he simply never learned his own limits, and that naivety allowed someone evil to manipulate him into slowly turning into ashes.

But eventually, as he gets better, Talia starts to call him her little Phoenix instead. She sees him rise even when he doesn’t realize it, she sees him fly and come alive once more, his nervous breakdowns a lot less frequent now that his mind is stimulated so much.

Rediscovering his love for algebra and literal analysis are things he never dared dream experience again, though he does feel constantly guilty about it. The voice in his head makes sure to berate him for what he’s doing, often sabotages him by giving him answers he knows are false, yet because he’s incapable of disobeying Roman he writes down the wrong thing and doubts what he thought was right was actually right. He needs to prove Roman right by being stupid and empty-headed, but he wants to prove Talia right by doing his best. He used to have a lot of potential, he used to really enjoy school and learning, but that was before he learned that the only thing he had that had worth was his body. And sure some people have beauty and brains, but that isn’t who he is.

Eventually he burns out. He convinces himself he truly cannot do it, and enters a new depressive episode. He doesn’t have energy to do anything anymore, not even lyra, he fails to find joy in anything.

It gets so bad that he starts begging to see his movies again, they have to take his cellphone away before he uses it to self harm, and only Talia manages to make him eat.
It lasts a few weeks until Dick decides to try something, comes over one evening when he knows no one else is there, and brings a laptop to Jason.

“Is it my movies..?” Jason croaks tearfully when Dick puts the laptop on his lap.

“It’s your favourite one,” Dick replies, hitting the space bar.

Immediately, an upbeat song starts to play, getting Jason to frown. “That’s—“

“Just watch it.”

“Dick, I can’t…” Yet he doesn’t stop the movie. He could if he wanted to, but…

Legally Blonde was his favourite movie along with Pride & Prejudice when he was a kid. He’d watch it before every exam to motivate himself, every time someone would be surprised by his good grades or his acrobatic talents he’d always reply “what, like it’s hard?” with a little proud smirk. That movie is what convinced him he could seek higher education, it’s what made him believe in himself and push himself in his studies. And now for the first time in like, two decades, he’s seeing this movie again and he doesn’t have the heart to stop it. He watches Elle Woods get her hopes up only to get dumped, he sees her get depressed and he sees her be underestimated because of her looks, he sees her overcome adversity, assault, while staying true to herself with her beloved pet that’s always by her side, he sees her grow and prove herself and he sees himself in her even more than he used to.

Throughout the movie Dick watches Jason’s face light up and tears come up, and he knows this risk was worth it. He didn’t tell anyone because he was scared they’d try to stop him, but he knew it was going to work. He was still a bit nervous but in his heart he knew Jason would respond well. He saw the difference in his brother as kids, Jason would actually learn tricks more easily when he had just watched Legally Blonde compared to when it had been a while—and even then that was nothing compared to when he hadn’t seen it yet. Dick would see Jason struggle to get a move for months and then say “what, like it’s hard?” the second he’d get it and Dick would congratulate him, and Jason did have a lot of pink equipment because of the movie. He even taped his hoop pink once and asked Bruce for a chihuahua, which Bruce did agree to but only once Jason would be grown enough to take care of one and then, well… Jason never grew up to that age, at least not at home.

At the end of the movie, Jason rubs his eyes and looks at Dick. “Can you help me study?”

◌

Harley is prepared to see Jason still in bed, incapable of getting up to do the simplest thing, when she comes in the next morning. Yet, as she opens the door she sees Jason on his hoop, answering Dick’s school-related questions while doing drills in the air.

The two are so into it they don’t realize she’s there yet, and for a moment she just stares, confused but glad to see Jason doing better.

She finally understands what happened for him to be like this when he gets mad he gave a wrong answer and Dick replies “did Elle get angry when she made mistakes? No. You’re still getting a great score, so go easy on yourself,” and it actually works, Jason takes a deep breath and relaxes instead of clinging onto his failure.

“Hey, boys,” Harley greets now so she doesn’t startle them, doesn’t want to get settled without Jason’s knowledge.

“Oh, hey, what— wait, what time is it?” Dick asks.

“It’s nine in the morning.”

“Already?” He turns back to Jason. “Okay, yeah, let’s take a break, what do you say?”

Jason nods and gets down, his cheeks pink with effort and slight embarrassment. “Hi.”

“How long have you been training?”

He looks back at his brother. “Since, uh… I dunno, like, last night? We took a few breaks but…… sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize, I think that’s great.” She smiles and puts the things she brought on the table. “We’ll take the day easy then, make sure you don’t exert yourself.”

“I’ll go shower and change,” he declares softly before going upstairs.

“You made him watch Legally Blonde?” Harley asks Dick once it’s just the two of them on the ground floor.

“Before you say anything, it worked so remember that before you get angry,” Dick is quick to defend.

“I’m not angry, though I wish you’d have told me so I could’ve helped in case things went wrong.”

“I was scared you’d try and stop me, I knew it was gonna work, I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Alright, I mean, I get it. But just so you know, if something like that happens again I won’t try to stop you so let me know, okay?”

Dick considers her thoughtfully for a moment, before agreeing. “Okay.”

Upstairs, after his shower and a mild asthma attack, Jason peruses his clothing, regretting his loyalty to red and black. He wishes he had more colours, more light things, at least one item that’s pink, but when he did his wardrobe he never thought he’d experience the desire to have fun with his style ever again so he didn’t dare ask for anything other than what he’s been accustomed to those past years.

Used to getting dressed in things he doesn’t want to wear, he simply throws on something simple before going downstairs.

Now that he’s not super focused anymore he does feel the exhaustion, so he goes straight to the table and sits, head over his arms.

“Did you have breakfast yet?” Harley asks.

“We ate throughout the night but we didn’t eat like, an actual meal yet,” Dick answers.

“Jay, did you feel like something specific?”

He shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Is fruit salad okay? Then you can rest a little.”

“Mh-kay.”

◌

“Do you think I’ve made the world a worse place with my work?” Jason asks absently, having been lost in thought for a while now.

Bruce frowns, looks back at him. He was just passing through to make sure the smoke detectors and heating system were fine, he didn’t think Jason would engage in such a conversation especially since Harley is there, she’s just in the bathroom right now.

“I mean… I know people got into porn because of me. I know people believed that there was a good life to have in it, I made people think it was enjoyable. I spread dangerous lies and no one ever questioned it. How many people are suffering or have suffered because of me..?”

For a moment, Bruce hesitates to speak, unsure if Jason is actually seeking an answer from him. “I started a support program,” he ends up admitting, “for people who resort to doing things they don’t want to do and for people who want to get out of the porn industry. It helps a few people, maybe some that were influenced by what you used to do. But I don’t think it was your fault, you didn’t really choose that life, if people have suffered it isn’t on you.”

Jason considers him, appeased by the knowledge that such a program exists, but far from guiltless still. “I lied and kept up the act, whether it was my choice or not I still did it. I thought… if I did it, no one else would have to, and I could handle it especially since I did it for someone I care about, but not everyone had the chance and support I had. I barely had to work at all, so many people were in charge of every technicality and detail, I only had to show up and just that was hard. Yet people thought it was effortless and I let them believe that.” He sighs, struggling to breathe with the weight over his chest. “Not only that but the type of content I made…” he adds under his breath.

Though Bruce avoided seeing as much content from Red as possible, he still heard about it and every time it made his stomach churn. He knows Jason experienced and witnessed bad things as a kid, which made him very uncomfortable with touch already and around men in general, so of course certain themes he was forced to portray in a way that made it seem enjoyable and not as serious and vile as it really is is something that must weigh heavily on his conscience. The thing that surprises him is that Jason is choosing to talk to him about it, and though things are going well they definitely aren’t to a point where neither of them would be comfortable with such a subject.

“I’m a bad person, aren’t I?” Jason looks up at him, almost pleadingly, like Bruce is the only one that could forgive him.

“No, you’re—“ Bruce pinches his lips together, searching for the right words. “You’re not a bad person,” he assures, walking up to him carefully. “You didn’t have a choice, and you did your best. You’re not the one that forced others to do things they didn’t want, you’re not responsible for doing what you had to do to survive.”

“Would you say the same thing to someone else? Or are you just saying it because it’s me?”

“I’d say it to anyone who went through what you went through. No one deserves to live the way you used to.”

Thinking about that quickly has Jason tear up, he hides his face in his hands and lets out the most pained “I miss him.”

Luckily Harley comes back at that moment so she can deal with Jason’s contradictory feelings and nostalgia about his past, letting Bruce avoid making things worse by saying the wrong thing.

She closes the magazine and pushes it aside, one she brought so Jason could peruse new clothes without using a phone. She easily guesses he started to think about the models in it, which then had him thinking of his own past career and it snowballed from there. She knew it was risky to give him the magazine but he’s been doing well enough that she believed he could handle it, and he did have time to circle a few things he liked before he got emotional. Not only that but right now it’s not an outburst, it’s pretty tame instead of explosive, he’s not angry he’s just sad and though it isn’t fun it’s still progress.

While she comforts him she asks Bruce to make some tea for him since it helps calm him down and gives him an easy task so he can focus on something else, Bruce who does so quickly and dutifully like Jason’s life depends on it.

“If I’m a bad person doesn’t that mean he’s a bad person too?” Jason weeps in between sniffles, head in his hands. “I don’t want him to get in trouble, I don’t want him to be bad…”

That reminds Bruce of when he first brought Jason home after his breakup with Sionis, when Jason thought he was dead and about to be judged, convinced he was going to Hell for what he had done in his life. Then too he had asked that Roman be spared, that he wasn’t bad and didn’t deserve to suffer, and to hear him keep that same perception of the person who has ruined his life gets to Bruce quite a lot.

“I know he did bad things but that doesn’t mean he’s bad,” Jason justifies, unaware that this applies to him a thousand times more than it does Roman.

“That’s not what we’re gonna focus on, Jaybird, okay? We’re talking about you right now.”

He looks at her, then at Bruce who’s bringing over the tea before quickly hiding his face in shame. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright. Do you want some alone time?”

“I don’t— I dunno, I’m sorry, I… I’m trying to be better, I’m sorry…”

“No one’s asking you to be better, okay? There’s no pressure to do anything.”

Jason peeks at Bruce, as if waiting for him to confirm that. Sure things are a lot more stable with the two of them compared to the beginning, but Jason still very much believes he has a certain act to maintain around Bruce to avoid punishment. Usually when Bruce is there he does his best to stay composed and avoids being dramatic in front of him, but he’s been feeling very emotional lately and it’s so hard to control what goes on inside him, he can’t hold back his tears and he’s terrified of what Bruce is going to say to him for it.

“I can leave if you want,” Bruce proposes as he steps back to a safe distance.

Sarah climbs over Jason’s lap, he buries his face in her fur and just takes a moment to himself without saying anything so he can put his thoughts in order.
Harley keeps her hand over his back and Bruce hovers awkwardly, wanting to come closer but afraid of making things worse.

“I’m sorry,” Jason says again once he calms down, sniffling and wiping his tears as he straightens up. “I’m just… I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” Though he doesn’t look Bruce in the eye it’s clear his apology is directed at him, not at Harley.

“It’s fine, you’re allowed to cry,” he responds, hoping he sounds genuine and sincere, very worried about triggering the youngest. “I’m not going to get angry, I promise, I’m never going to be angry at you.”

“…. You’re always angry at me…”

“Why would you think that?”

“You almost never come and when you do you don’t— you don’t talk to me, you don’t look at me, you… you only like me when I perform, right..? You only smile when I do my shows but— but if I’m not performing you’re angry with me. And I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to cry, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“What? Can I—“ He approaches. “Can I sit down?” He does so anyway. “Listen, Jason, that isn’t at all why I keep my distance, it’s not anger, I don’t only like you when you’re performing, I’m…” He bites his lip, looks for the right words. “I thought you didn’t want me around, so I stay away. For you.” He takes a short breath. “Jason, none of this is anger, I am so proud of you and I love you, I…” He stops. Doesn’t feel capable of saying more, already feels like he said too much.

But Harley looks at him and mouths at him to keep going, doing a sneaky encouraging gesture so Jason doesn’t see.

Bruce stammers a bit, trying to keep going though hesitant about it. “I have a hard time saying it because I feel like you’ll never want to hear that from me but I… I care about you, so much, and I just… you loom so large in my heart that I get very scared of doing things the wrong way with you. I don’t want to ruin this chance that you’ve given me, I… I try to be careful because I don’t want to lose you again…”

Jason frowns, staring at Bruce.

“I’m sorry I made you think I was angry with you. That isn’t the case, never has been and never will be. I promise. I— I love you and I just want to do this right. I’m sorry.”

For a bit there’s a silence and no one really knows what to expect, and Jason proves why they’re uncertain by suddenly getting up and walking off, quickly hurrying to his bedroom without a word and with Sarah at his heel.

Upstairs, they hear the door slam, then a second later it reopens and they hear Jason cry out “sorry, it was an accident, I’m sorry” before he closes the door again, softly this time.

Bruce looks over at Harley, his expression asking a thousand questions, desperate for her to explain what he did wrong.

“I’ll give him a minute and then I’ll go talk to him,” she says. “I don’t think you messed up, I think he just struggles with change and has to reevaluate his perception of you.”

He sighs, leans into his hands.

“Hey, I think you did good,” she reassures. “He just needs some time, like he always does. He’ll come around, you’ll see.”

“What if he doesn’t..? I’ve been waiting for five years, I…”

“Well it did take you five years to tell him what you’ve just told him. Maybe if you said you loved him sooner, then you’d be closer already.”

“I didn’t think he’d want to hear it…”

“I get that, at first we weren’t sure if he’d want something to do with us as he got better, but at some point you gotta understand he lets you come here multiple times a week, he cooked for you, he performs for you, that usually means he doesn’t hate you.”

A beat of silence. “He said he’d rather have his films happen to him in real life than spend a moment with me and I know that was at first, when he was in withdrawal and just got out of his relationship, but… he still said that. And I keep thinking about it and it keeps breaking my heart every time…”

“I remember, and I understand, that was particularly cruel, but… you know he didn’t mean it, right? And you know his anger was misdirected, it wasn’t you he was angry at, it was Roman.”

He nods sorrowfully. “Because in his head we’re the same type of person…”

“He knows there’s big differences between you now. He’s not really angry anymore, and though that does concern me a bit he is living a good life. I’m not gonna ask you to forget the things he used to say to you, but I am asking you to listen to what he’s saying now.”

Looking back at her, he takes a deep breath. “Why is it so easy for all of you..?”

“It isn’t. You’re just particularly repressed.” She smiles. “It’ll be easier eventually, I promise.”

Later, when she goes to see Jason in his room, she first assures him she’s not there because he slammed his door, then brings up Bruce.

“I’d rather he be angry with me,” he admits shyly.

“Why?”

“Because then that means… it means I don’t have to feel bad he forgave me for the way I used to be… then it’s right, he should be angry at me and if he’s not, I’m… I dunno, it’s wrong…”

“I’m not sure I understand, can you explain?”

“It’s… I feel bad if he’s not angry with me… he should be angry, I mean, I messed up so much and I was rude and I made his life so hard, he shouldn’t forgive that. I— I need him to be angry.”

“You don’t need an angry man in the house, Jay. You never have.”

“But I do, I need someone who sees my mistakes, I need someone who doesn’t forgive everything, I need someone who gets angry.”

“You need food, water, clothing, a roof over your head. You’re used to having an angry man in the house but it’s not what kept you alive, it’s something you can very comfortably live without.”

“I’m already comfortable enough, aren’t I..? I don’t want to be surrounded by people who just pity me, I—“

“Pity you? Who do you think is pitying you?”

“……. all of you….”

“We don’t pity you, Jason. We don’t see you as some poor helpless victim, all you’ve done those past years has been to prove to us how strong and resilient you are. Sure we get sad sometimes but it’s not pity, we don’t think you’re weak or below us.”

He considers her hesitantly. “Then why do you all act like I’m fragile..?”

“Is that how you see it?”

“It’s just that… you’re always all so careful around me, you don’t talk to me about how you all feel, you act like nurses, not like… family,” he says the last word very softly, almost mumbling it while looking down at his hands. “I was under a level of scrutiny you couldn’t imagine for a decade, people would tell me their weirdest fantasies and I had to smile and nod, I had to constantly choose every word I said, calculate every glance, I can handle you all having thoughts and feelings in front of me…”

“Alright, that’s a good point, but we’re careful around you because we just want you to be happy and a lot of subjects are hard for you, but if you really want to we can let loose a bit more.”

He shrugs lazily.

“For now though can we go back to the subject of Bruce? I think maybe you should try apologizing, then maybe you won’t feel as bad.”

“I don’t want to stop feeling bad, and I can’t just acknowledge the way I was to him and whether or not I apologize I’ll feel like shit anyway and he’ll still use it against me if I do another mistake.”

“I’m not telling you that you have to apologize and I’m not saying that you have to do it today, but I am asking you to think about it, okay?”

“… I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Jay.”

“I know, I just— I’m sorry I’m so bad at this, I… I know how to apologize, I know I’m being selfish and mean by retaining an apology to him, but I… I’m sorry, I’m being bad and I want— I want to be good, I swear, I want to be good—“

“You’re not getting into any trouble. You’re not being ‘bad’ you’re just being human, everything is fine, I promise. You can think about it, you can take your time, there’s no deadline.” She smiles at him reassuringly. “No one is getting angry, no one is getting punished. You’re safe.”

He looks at her, a hand over Sarah’s head. “I’m safe,” he echoes softly.

“That’s right. Now Bruce is done here, so if you prefer staying alone in your room we can both go, I know Talia is coming later to see you but if you need me to come back just call and I’ll be right there, okay?”

Nodding, he keeps his eyes on his cheetah. “… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

She pauses to consider him. “Is this a casual thank you or should I be worried?”

A faint smile cracks his lips. “It’s a normal thank you, I promise.” He makes eye contact. “I haven’t been trying to perfect my pasta making skills just to give up now that I’m so close.”

She returns his smile. “Good.” She pauses briefly. “I love you, we all do. I’ll see you tomorrow, birdie.”

When Harley comes back in the dining room, Bruce perks up, looking at her, awaiting an update.

“He’ll talk to you soon, you’ll both be fine,” she assures.

“Are you sure..?”

“Yup.” She smiles. “Come on. Let’s give him some alone time before his mom arrives.”

Bruce looks towards the stairs before following Harley out.

Chapter Text

Injuries happen, it’s a normal part of being an aerialist and Jason has always been careful as to avoid them as much as possible. Still, it’s hard for him to know and respect his own limits, to understand when he’s pushing himself too far, so the injuries can be quite frequent nonetheless.

As it happens again, his family makes sure to visit him a lot so he doesn’t get bored and doesn’t spiral, Dick, Harley and Barbara sleep over on nights where they have the time, and everyone makes sure Jason still moves and doesn’t simply wallow or worse keeps pushing himself despite the pain.

Often he brings up the times he kept filming while injured to justify why they should let him do more and it’s a hard conversation to navigate because everyone wants to tell him how fucked up and inhumane that was to have him work under such conditions but they can never phrase it as truthfully as they want to. If they insult how he was treated then that means they’re insulting Roman and right now they need Jason to stay open to their suggestions and support so that they might help him to get better quickly, they can’t start going on and on about how horrible it is to live the way he has during his stardom.

“It’s only some back pain, I’ve filmed with a dislocated shoulder once,” he complains for the millionth time as he gets forced to sit instead of helping set the table.

Tim silently sets the cutlery down, refraining from saying a word. He knows he’s here because today Harley is short handed, his presence hasn’t been requested by Jason so he’s careful to show that he knows his place when he comes here. He’s a guest that helps out but not a family member.

“Your ‘back pain’ is stopping you from standing for more than a couple of minutes, Jay, it’s not smart to ignore it.”

“Good thing I’m not supposed to be smart then,” he mumbles so Harley who’s in the kitchen can’t hear him.

To that Tim can’t help but look at him and open his mouth, though stops himself in time.

Jason catches it anyway, squints. “What?”

“Nothing.” He bites his lip. “Pink suits you.”

Jason squints more for a second, but decides to not push. “Thank you.”

Tim takes a breath, glad he didn’t fuck this up, grateful that Jason wants to keep the peace too.

Soon after, Harley comes with the food, sets it all down.

“I could’ve helped.”

“Jay…”

He considers her, then looks down at his plate. “Sorry.”

“You’re helping by taking it easy. When you’ll get better we can cook together again.”

He nods. “I’m sorry, I’ll do better.”

“I’m not asking you to do better, I’m just asking you to be nice to yourself. You’re not in trouble.”

After a quick ashamed glance towards Tim, he straightens up and nods. “Thank you for the food.”

“You’re welcome. This one was fun, I might do it more often.” She takes a bite. “Oh and it’s really fucking good too.”

Jason grimaces.

“Sorry, no swearing, my bad. I’m not angry, I’m very happy, promise.”

He takes a breath, relaxes.

As usual, they eat and Jason follows slowly, doesn’t finish his plate.

By habit he gets up when everyone’s done, winces and is quickly urged to sit back down and let them take care of clearing the table.

“Gimme a second, I’ll get you some ice, okay? Did you want to move to the armchair first?”

“I’m… yeah, okay.”

“Alright, let’s go.” She escorts him to the armchair in the living room, helps him sit down slowly.

Jason chuckles humourlessly as he grunts, struggling to settle comfortably.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s humiliating, it’s graceless and I just… I dunno, I’m tired, sorry.”

“I get that, okay. I’ll go get your ice.”

When she comes back with it, Jason is encouraging Sarah to come up on his lap.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“She wants to cuddle.”

“I’d rather you go on the couch then so she doesn’t have to lay on top of you.”

“…. Okay.”

Meanwhile, Tim loads the dishwasher, minding his own business.

It’s a bit hard, usually there’s more people around when he comes by so he doesn’t get noticed as much as he does today, and he can exchange glances with others when Jason says something they all have to stay quiet about but right now Harley is occupied and he’s alone, so he does his best to hold back.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to Jason seeing himself as unintelligent, he remembers all the tests with perfect grades staying up on the fridge when he moved in Wayne Manor, all the books and textbooks Jason had in his room, the desk he had that was so neat yet overpacked with stuff he was studying, and of course the way Dick and Bruce spoke of him—the rare times they did—where they always mentioned his potential and abilities.
Sometimes they’d call Tim Jason by accident, and he quickly noticed it was more frequent when he was talking positively of school or when he brought home good grades. Therefore, to see him be like this now, no matter how much time has passed and how many things changed since then, Tim struggles to look at him the way he looks at himself. Sure Jason had a particularly low low, and yes technically all he went through has caused some trouble with his brain, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid, it doesn’t mean he’s not meant to be smart, and that’s something Tim would love to say to him but he’s convinced it’s not his place to have such a conversation with him.

Therefore he just fetches Jason’s inhaler when he’s asked, then the nicotine patches, and then he cleans around while Harley does the laundry and Jason complains because he’s not allowed to help.

“I can at least—“

“No, you stay where you are and rest, birdie.”

“But—“

“If you’re bored I’m sure Tim can take a moment and do something with you.”

“I—“ He grunts lightly. “I’m fine, I’ll just keep reading.”

“Go, he needs to do something else,” Harley tells Tim lowly, aware that they’re minutes away from a breakdown. She’d go herself but Jason isn’t comfortable with other people doing chores for him especially when it comes to his clothes and his room so she’d rather take care of that and give Tim a chance to get closer to Jason.

“He hates me,” Tim protests in a whisper.

“He doesn’t hate you, he’s just a bit standoffish because you’re younger than him and you got to grow up with Bruce, but he likes you otherwise he wouldn’t let you come in here.”

“But how can you know that? What if he’s just being polite?”

“Is Sarah nice to you?”

“Y-Yeah, but what’s—“

“And he lets you pet her?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t have anything to—“

“He only lets friends and family near her. He likes you. Go talk to him.”

“But—“

“Go talk to him,” she insists. “He won’t kill you.”

Tim bites his lip, swallows a sigh and resigns. He tentatively walks to the living room, keeps a safe distance from Jason as to not stress him out. “What, uh… what’re you reading?”

Jason lets out a soft exhale through his nose, puts his book down and looks at Tim. “Something about art.”

“What’s it called?”

“… Great Women Artists.”

“Cool.”

Silence.

“So, uh…”

“You don’t have to do this,” Jason interrupts.

“Do what?”

“Force yourself.”

“I’m not forcing myself, I’m… I’m doing an effort but I’m not forcing anything. Unless— unless you feel forced, if that’s the case I’m sorry, I can leave if you prefer.”

“I don’t prefer that you leave, please just be honest with me, I know you’re not here by choice and it’s alright, I don’t want to force anyone to do anything…”

“You’re not forcing me. Like, at all. I like coming here, I like helping out. I just know we’re not very close so I try to stay out of the way, that’s it. So… are we good..?”

“I— I guess, yeah…” Jason looks down at Sarah. “You know I, uh… Harley says I have to be more open, so… I’m sorry, for being impersonal, for keeping you at a distance, I guess I just… this is hard, y’know..? Everyone thinks you’re— well, it’s… you came after me and I just… I… nevermind.”

“No, what is it? I mean, what are you talking about?”

He hesitantly looks at him. “I’m not used to having good competition. With Roman, I… I was the best, I wasn’t really threatened by others, but here… here it’s different. So… I guess I just… I dunno… I’m sorry.”

Confused, unsure of what to say, Tim looks towards the laundry room where Harley is, but the door is closed and he doesn’t want to call for her. Then he looks back at Jason, fidgeting with his hands. “I spent my whole life looking up to you, y’know? I mean… you and Dick were my idols and if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have amounted up to anything. And at first I did see it as a competition, I thought I had to surpass you and Dick but I never did because I learned I just had to surpass myself. So it’s not like… it’s not like being in the public eye, there’s no fighting for attention and recognition. Bruce loves you because you’re you, and he loves me because I’m me. Does that make sense..? I dunno, I mean that’s how my therapist put it and it helped me a lot to see it that way so… yeah.” He scratches behind his head, diverting his gaze, convinced he went too far and overstepped boundaries and now unsure of what to do.

Jason doesn’t reply, he stays quiet and looks at his cheetah, gives no sign whether he understood what Tim tried to say or whether he got super offended by it.

“Sorry, maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut, I know it’s not my place to say that stuff to you…”

The problem is that Jason can’t bring himself to be more open, at least not to Tim. There’s a blockage in his throat, he’s well aware of the space between them no matter how hard he tries to include Tim because Harley tells him it’s worth it. And he knows if the situation was different he and Tim could be friends, brothers even, but it’s hard to do that with what they currently have. He’s not comfortable enough to share his vulnerabilities, his skin crawls already because of what he admitted and he simply cannot handle doing more.

His silence is interpreted by Tim as a confirmation that Jason doesn’t want anything to do with him, it’s hard to see it as anything else and so Tim pinches his lips together, nods and looks down. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your hair now.”

From the corner of his eye, Jason looks at Tim walk away, wanting to say something but incapable of doing so, biting the inside of his cheeks as he redirects his attention to his cat so he can manage his guilt a bit more easily.

The only thing he says to Tim afterwards is a shy ‘thank you’ before he leaves, remaining at the very least polite despite his earlier behaviour.

“Did something happen with Tim?”

He looks at Harley, frowns sadly. “I— I don’t know, I’m sorry, I… I don’t know how to talk to him, I tried to be open, but… I dunno…”

“It’s okay, you’re not in any trouble. I’m just curious because he’s convinced you hate him and I wanted to know what happened.”

“I don’t— I don’t hate him…”

“I know you don’t, but that’s what he thinks and I’m sure you can talk it out, right? I think that’d be important.”

“But what am I supposed to say to him? I tried already to be honest and… I dunno… maybe I said something wrong…”

“Well what did you say?”

“I just… I told him that I’m not used to competition, that with Roman I didn’t really worry because I knew no one could do what I did, but here it’s… different. But maybe he didn’t like that, maybe…” He shrugs. “I dunno.”

“This isn’t a competition, though.”

“That’s what you all say, he said that— that Bruce loves me for me and he loves him for him, but… does he? If I stop trying am I really worth it? I don’t have a final product to show, I don’t— I don’t have a perfect self to make the risk worth it, the—“

“The risk? What risk?”

“Caring about me.”

“You think that’s a risk? Why?”

“Because it takes a lot of effort and energy to have me around, so… so it’s a risk. I’m a risk.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know, I— I’m hard to love, hard to care for, I’m dramatic and I have mood swings and I overreact and I lie and I act like a kid, people don’t like that, people don’t stick around because of that, they don’t think I’m worth the effort or the risk and that’s fine, I mean I get it, so…”

“If Roman had told you the sky was actually red would you have believed him?”

“Yes,” he says without thinking. “I mean… he doesn’t lie and I’m always wrong, so… yes, I would.”

“Alright, see, I know we’ve had this conversation often before and you’re hurt right now so I’ll try not to be too redundant, but not everything Roman told you was an indisputable fact. Some of them were opinions or outright lies because yes he did lie to you.”

“But—“

“Jason. You are easy to love. You always have been. Just because some people didn’t think that doesn’t erase the fact that it’s a truth for others, and the people who don’t think that aren’t the people you listen to. Caring about you isn’t a risk, we’re not losing anything by caring about you, okay?”

He stays quiet, staring at his hands.

“Jason, it’s important that you tell me that you understand what I’m saying to you right now.”

“… Roman said I was worth the risk.”

“I don’t care what Roman said, you’re not together anymore, you’re here now and you’re surrounded by people who love you and don’t think you’re a risk.”

“I don’t mind that he changed his mind at the end, I—“

“I know it’s fall and that’s why you’re kinda nostalgic right now but—“ She stops herself, catches it before she goes too far.

She can’t stop Jason from talking about it no matter how sick she is of hearing about Roman. Jason needs to get it out of his system, he needs to feel heard, she can’t dismiss him.

She takes a deep breath, calms down. “I’m sorry. Go on.”

She herself took years to stop reminiscing about Joker, even when she was healing and realized how much of a piece of shit he was, she knows how important it is to be listened to and how worse it gets because of dismissal, Jason will probably never not miss Roman but if he shares his feelings they won’t overwhelm him as much, won’t stick to his ribs and slowly rot, turning him angry and bitter about the wrong things.

Therefore, she spends the rest of the day listening to him talk, doing her best to reason with him without making him feel like he has to defend his past.

By speaking Jason does realize some fucked up things and Harley notices it even when he tries to play it off as nothing, like when he recounts a time he dropped the star act for a brief moment because someone had just tried to grope him at a party and even then he made his way to an isolated place first to have a very repressed panic attack that lasted five seconds, and Roman’s response to that was to not let him eat that night as punishment.
It’s a good process they’ve been seeing over the years, Jason doesn’t excuse all of Roman’s actions as genuinely and ardently as he used to, a part of him has slowly been realizing that he doesn’t deserve such cruelty even if another part of him still believes it.

As Harley told Bruce already the only thing worrying her is that he doesn’t really show anger anymore. He probably eventually noticed his anger was directed at Roman and has been suppressing it since then instead of allowing himself to feel it, and without anger he can’t really acknowledge just how serious the injustices he lived through were which results in him still believing he’s in ‘love’ with Roman despite having moments where he struggles defending him. Not only that but suppressing anger doesn’t make it go away, he just loses control over it and will direct it towards himself, which then causes him to injure himself by pushing and refusing to rest.
She does her best to incite healthy rises of anger but fundamentally the change has to come from him, she can’t force it.

At the very least he’s living a pleasant life now, probably the best one he could have had after everything that’s happened. His asthma attacks aren’t too bad, his heart problems mild, he’s able to do aerials, he’s with his cheetah and is surrounded by people who love him. Plus, Talia has got him to study again, which is a big thing for him, so really as long as he remains happy here she knows he will keep healing by himself.

But still it… it bugs her that he’s not angry. He deserves to be angry, to have that dam break. Roman’s power over him should not still constrain him like it does, Jason shouldn’t be forbidden from having certain emotions, barriers that were built for him so he wouldn’t be human should be broken down. Yet Jason builds barriers around the barriers to make sure they stand, convinced that they were gifts he should cherish for the rest of his life.

Harley recognizes herself in that, and it frustrates her that she can’t give him her own healing journey so he doesn’t have to go through it. She worries, about how he is when he’s alone, she knows how hard solitude can be and when she’s here she does try to give him enough physical contact to fuel him but he’s always so starved anyways when she comes back, and that kind of craving can lead to nervous breakdowns which then can lead to self harm and she doesn’t want to inspect him or make him feel like he’s being scrutinized but she gets so scared for him sometimes. There’s nothing she wants more than for him to be happy and not relapse, but she doesn’t have control over that. Sure she can help but she doesn’t get to hold off all the bad for him so he can finally rest for real.

She just wants him to feel fulfilled, to not feel this gaping void, to not feel like he lost so much.

◌

“Easy,” Jason coaxes at Sarah as she rubs against his legs, trying to pour himself some hot water without spilling it.

She chirps at him, he looks at her and smiles.

“We can go settle in a second, I promise.”

They do so, he grunts in pain as he sits down, puts his free hand over his lower back to soothe the pain while his cat settles over his legs.

“This is getting really annoying,” he mumbles before taking a sip of his tea. “I mean, I filmed through so many injuries, I filmed while sleep deprived, I worked despite feeling like I was being hunted for sport and now I have a mild back pain and suddenly I can’t do anything anymore? It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” He sighs. “Sorry. I’m not angry, I’m just tired and bored. I’m used to being tired and busy, but you know that.” He smiles at her. “You got used to the quiet life quickly, I kinda envy you.”

She chirps again, rolls into a more comfortable position.

“I know it’s been years but I still feel like I’m adapting. I mean I still get nervous about schedules while you run and sleep all the same. And I know everyone already thinks I’m a mess so… I dunno… what do you think, do you have any advice?”

She blinks slowly at him.

“Right. Just be cute and perfect. Well I tried that already, didn’t I? I’m too old for that now.” He stares ahead blankly, his mind quickly drifting away. “I’m… too old…”

As usual when he thinks about that he dissociates for a fairly long period, his tea slowly getting cold and eyes losing spark, a dread filling his chest.
Sarah climbs over him but he doesn’t react, he is now stuck, paralyzed, far too aware of his aging body, his prolonged life.

Over time he got better, less erratic, but over time he also got older and when he remembers that it feels like his soul gets punched out of his body every time. He tried a few times, to ask Bruce for Botox but the shame kept the words down, and now with Talia he wants to ask her for Lazarus Water and he knows she’d say yes, he knows she would give it to him but for some reason he just can’t seem to ask her and it doesn’t just feel like shame. It’s only that… well she once told him “aging is a privilege, it was taken from you once, do not let it be taken from you twice” because he was very suicidal at first and needed to be talked out of doing something drastic quite frequently. So it feels disrespectful, it feels like he truly gave up on every lesson she taught him and he doesn’t want to hurt her like that.

Thinking about that now, his body moves by itself and seeks a comfort instinctively.

Without a plan or a thought, still outside of his own body, he gets up and goes to the landline, dials his mother’s number.

She answers before the first ring even has the time to finish.

“I feel like doing something stupid,” he tells her like he must’ve done a thousand times already. “Can you come over and stop me?”

She stays on the line with him until she arrives. He sits on the floor while he waits, not really realizing that he moved from the couch yet.

“I’m sorry,” he keeps apologizing.

“It’s alright, son,” she keeps reassuring. “I’ll be right there.”

Sarah nudges him. “I think I’m just tired.”

“That’s alright. We’ll take a nap.”

“I just… I can’t believe this is it. I get— I don’t get to have a do over, I don’t get to try again knowing what I know now, I’ve lost it all and I’ll never get it back, I’ll just keep getting older and then I’ll die and my life will have been completely wasted and it’s just— it’s not fair..! Why didn’t I get to have a childhood, why didn’t I get to finish school, why didn’t I get to grow up and have my dream job? What is so wrong with me that I don’t deserve those things? And then I— I think maybe I found my place with Roman and he never asks me what I want, what I think but I don’t care because at least he doesn’t leave me but in the end he leaves me anyways and now I’ll never get back everything I sacrificed for him, things he didn’t even realize or care about and I just have to live with cut off limbs forever and age and rot and I miss him like he’s the parts of me that are missing and I don’t know what to do with myself and I’m trying to be good for all of you but I don’t know how and I’m hurt and I’m exhausted and I’m bored and I’m scared and I’m— I’m…” He falls silent.

“I’m almost there, Jason,” Talia says softly. “I’m almost there, I’m coming for you, I’m not going to leave you.”

When she arrives, Sarah hurries to lead her to Jason, and quickly Talia gets on the floor and pulls him in, wrapping her arms around him as he sobs against her chest, his hands grasping at her shirt like a child.

Like she did when he was but a boy, she soothes him in Arabic, her voice calming and gentle, finding the right words more easily in her native tongue.

Jason loses his rigidity, eventually the storm subsides, and so she starts to sing until he falls asleep, just like before.

She is no stranger to Jason’s misery, and she isn’t rendered helpless by it anymore. She knows how to take care of her son, how to offer him help he will accept. He always seemed surprised of the way he caved in with her, never understanding that a mother simply knows these kinds of things, knows how to love her children if only she is willing to learn how her children need love. She put in the effort to understand him, to know him, until they spoke the same language, until she could love him in a way he understood and knew.

Such a language does not require words. It is built of actions and tells, Jason runs hot, she needs to be unaffected by flames, she stands by his side and doesn’t withdraw from the heat, and when he steps back and looks at her she is never burned. That is how he knows she loves him.

She brings him to bed once he’s sound asleep, Sarah following, her and the cat settling by his side.

What he said about sacrifice has her heart ache and her mind race, she grieves what he has lost, what could’ve been, so much she considers bringing him home and bathing him in the Lazarus pit so he might start over. But she doesn’t, she’s afraid of him growing addicted to it like her father has, she doesn’t want him to lose himself in the pit because he keeps going in.
She does hope Jason never asks her, because despite her fear she knows she would say yes if only he said a word. She cannot bear telling him no, and she would too love to get back the time they have lost. But it wouldn’t be a real solution, and his fear of aging would only get worse if he could avoid it over and over again, that she is well aware of.

No matter how much it pains her, the best way for him to move forward is to keep living with those sacrifices. At least speaking long term because right now the easier solution definitely seems like the best one.

If only she could simply reverse time instead of defying it, she could allow Jason to stop missing the axe that cut him down into pieces.

Chapter Text

Jason looks up from his notebook for a second, glances at Damian and Talia, smiles.

He’s glad he called Talia during his little crisis, they got to talk a lot and he feels lighter now, knowing she doesn’t ever flinch away from him now matter how explosive he gets. He feels much calmer, less empty, and he is glad to remember more Arabic than he thought because Talia rarely gives her most valuable lessons in a language other than it.

To remember her saying that aging is a privilege and to hear her actually say it is very different, especially since she lectured him about that for a couple of hours.
He’s not so dreadful now, and he sees her with her wrinkles and her white hairs and he does truly think that she’s beautiful, like he does with everyone else, it’s just hard to think that maybe he doesn’t look so horrible as he keeps getting older than he ever thought he’d be. All his life he lived by rules that only applied to him, the eyes of an audience isn’t really something he can hide from, the universe itself counts his mistakes and balances his life accordingly. He’s constantly afraid of punishment and consequences, he tries his best to do everything perfectly but he’s himself so he rarely manages to do so. Aging and being deemed unattractive, has been considered one of the worst things he could do while he was a star, it feels impossible to keep living without the impression that he’s breaking such a massive rule, it’s terrifying to have no way to stop it, to carry on and act like he doesn’t expect something horrible to happen because he dares live another day. Talia did alleviate that fear, but he knows it’s not permanent and she can’t spend her life reassuring him that he’s allowed to get older.

Right now though, right now he feels good. Talia asked Damian to come too so they might spend time like they used to, and though Damian is a lot calmer than he used to be there’s a safe sense of familiarity that keeps Jason’s spirits high.
He remembers when Damian was small and would constantly show off whatever new skill he learned lately, demanding Jason’s undivided attention for his demonstrations, explaining what he was doing and expecting encouragements afterwards, which Jason did give. He would train a lot too while Jason studied, and he would study while Jason trained, and whenever Jason would leave to go to a mentor away from home Damian would try to keep him by doing long demonstrations, showing almost everything he knew so Jason would stay longer—though he never admitted that’s what he was doing out loud.
Damian was very lonely, he was surrounded by adults devoted to the league only, Jason was closest in age and the only one that did something other than train or study with him, so separation was hard especially when Jason left for good. For a while Damian resented him for it, but now no hard feelings remain. Jason went through enough tribulation that proved he should’ve stayed home, Damian will not twist the knife by telling him that clearly he was never meant to leave.

They make eye contact when Damian feels observed, and they share their own version of a smile, a subtle blink of acknowledgment that they often did when they couldn’t talk to each other as kids, whether it be because they were doing their hours of meditation, their homework or had just gotten scolded. Doing that makes them both smile, but ashamed of it they both look down at the same time and hope the other didn’t see it.

It’s just nice to know that not all was lost.

Later, when it’s time for Sarah to eat, Damian takes care of it so Jason doesn’t have to get up.

“You know I raised you to be careful with your body,” Talia tells him. “Pushing yourself too hard is never good. You must take breaks more often.”

“I’m fine, everyone just freaks out whenever I move but it doesn’t even hurt that badly.”

“If I recall correctly, you woke up this morning because of the pain. Mild pain does not have that effect.”

“Yes but I’ve had worse, I’m fine.” He never brings up what kind of ‘worse’ he had in his stardom when Talia is around. Being with her makes him too aware of the mistreatment and he really doesn’t want her to confront him about it or worse go kill Roman for whatever Jason would admit.

“Worse does not turn something bad into something good. I’m certain we’ve talked about this many times before.”

Jason looks outside, where Damian is feeding Sarah. “I know…“

“I’m not saying this because I’m angry or because I’m disappointed, I’m saying this because I worry for you.”

“You don’t have to worry, I’m fine.”

“You weren’t fine last night.”

His eyes trail down to his hands, his cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry about that, I just get dramatic sometimes.”

“I haven’t acquired the most competent drama teacher for you when you lived with me only so you can now forget what dramatic means.”

“I—“ He makes eye contact, closes his mouth.

“You were in crisis. There’s nothing dramatic about that.”

He doesn’t dare argue with her. It’s conflicting, he trusts and believes her and when she uses such a tone with such confidence he has a really hard time brushing it off and clinging onto the notions Roman taught him. To have only known her as her son and not as Red Diamond really makes it hard to dismiss what she says like he does with mostly Bruce.

She keeps lecturing him and he keeps quiet, having no defence against her motherly authority and unable to justify himself—at this point barely wanting to. He wants to believe her, he wants to feel her warmth envelop him without always having to resist it at least a little, it’s just so hard, he cannot stop living for Roman’s approval and wishing to stay loyal despite everything. He hopes and worries at the same time that he’ll never be able to find something as fulfilling as his relationship with Roman was, that he’ll always keep this void inside him and never move on. It’s simply that he sees all those people come every day and do their best to connect with him and make him happy and he wishes he allowed himself to see them as family, but that would mean he’d move on from the family he and Roman were and he can’t handle the guilt of that. He spent ten years dedicating himself, mind, soul and body, to Roman, so to let that go, to admit that it’s really completely over, it’s… it feels impossible. No matter how it ended he cannot forget everything he has done for him. If it weren’t for their relationship he never would’ve even lived this far, and he wouldn’t have Sarah, and every moment of happiness he had while they were together was because of his lover. Yet, things he has now are because of this new would-be family; a comfortable house, a quiet life, his lyra, Sarah since they got separated, and he does have moments of happiness with them now.

He’s never going back to Roman, he knows that. It’s over for good, has been for years. But to him that doesn’t mean he has to cut ties with what used to be, there’s not really a way to do that without cutting himself off too. Just because he’s not Red Diamond anymore doesn’t mean that his Red habits and mannerisms left, he’s well aware that he still acts like him and talks like him most of the time, and that person was created by Roman. It was a gift from Roman. A second chance, a second life. And sure this family is giving that to him too without making him pay with his body but… being aware of it and thinking about it all the time doesn’t fix the problem, it just makes him feel really bad about it. They’re sacrificing time and money for him, they don’t ask for anything in return and sure he’s afraid they’ll ask for payment eventually or worse they’ll just throw him out, but for now they’re giving him things that he spent years believing only Roman would want to give him. So often does he hear Roman tell him “no one could endure you but me” and every time the people he’s currently surrounded by endure him he feels like he’s on the edge of being abandoned, yet they keep coming back and keep enduring and he never knows what to expect anymore.

Things were much simpler before; doing badly meant punishment, and doing well meant praise. He only worried of being abandoned at the start of their relationship but once he became a real star he stopped fearing a lot of things. Here he doesn’t get punished and he gets praised for the strangest things, and he’s always afraid of having the rug pulled out from under him. He misses the simplicity of everything being picked out for him including his own emotions, especially after nights like last night. To be human is exhausting enough, to be seen as human is just unfair. Sure the pressure of being an object was hard but at least no one but Roman saw him fall apart—well, his body guard Micheal saw him break down a few times and so did his first two social media managers. That didn’t matter though, because they’re all dead and they didn’t care. Maybe Micheal did a little but he never said a word, never really acknowledged Jason’s humanness in those moments. He’d just look at him, assess his state and then he’d look away. No one tried to take him away, no one tried to get him to talk about his feelings—he does his best to forget about Mark’s confession because even now it gets to him way too much, especially considering it’s another confession that had him lose everything—he had no parents or siblings, he was just a thing and he was perfect then. Perfection is a lot more easy to abide by than humanity, the rules feel safe and they’re a good guidance, whereas humanity has no limits or boundaries, it’s messy and unclear and confusing.

…. He misses the pain and anguish he used to feel then. He knows it was hard, but he just misses it. He was young, desirable, at his peak, and he should’ve enjoyed it more when he had it all. Stardom is something he took for granted even at his best, it was hard to realize he had so much when technically everything was Roman’s property, including the money he made from his work. All of his things were bought by Roman, he never had his own money and never shopped by himself, so it was hard for his brain to understand that those things he had were really his. Roman did remind him that everything given could be taken away too so of course it didn’t make it easier, but now that Jason has none of those belongings anymore he realizes that they were his and he misses having them. At this point they’re probably all in a landfill somewhere, there’s no way Roman kept them especially after all this time.

There’s one thing he really misses having; a royal portrait he had made of Sarah, it was such a beautiful painting and the memory of receiving it is such a pleasant one, whenever he thinks about it too much he starts crying.

He looks over at Damian who’s outside currently playing with Sarah.

“Jason, are you not listening to me?”

“Mh?” He looks back at Talia. “Sorry, I… I spaced out, I’m sorry…”

“You know your ears are there so you can listen to your mother.”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again…”

Talia considers him, her head slightly tilted to the side. “It’s alright, little phoenix. Why don’t you tell me what you were thinking about?”

“Nothing important, I’m sorry.”

“If it isn’t important surely you can share it then. Come on, I won’t get angry, son, you know that.” She puts a hand over his. “You can talk to me. Please talk to me.”

His brows furrow sadly, he glances at her before staring down at their hands. “I was just thinking about— about some things I used to have…”

“Like what?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s gone now…”

“I’d like to know anyway, Jason.”

He looks at her again, hesitates for a moment. “I used to have a painting of Sarah. Like a medieval painting of royals, but it was her on a chair. It was really beautiful and…” He swallows, tries not to start crying. “I dunno, I miss it. But it’s gone now, Roman wouldn’t have kept it, so… I’m sorry, I’ll stop thinking about it.”

“Describe it more,” she requests encouragingly.

“I…” He bites the inside of his cheeks. “It wasn’t a humanized version of her, it was just her on a throne, it was all red and gold and it really did look like her, it had her exact pattern, it…” He starts tearing up despite his attempts not to. “Sorry, I’m…”

“Come,” his mother soothes, nudging her chair closer so she can hold him. “You don’t have to hold back. I’m here for you.”

◌

In Wayne Manor, Damian reluctantly clicks on a house tour video of Red Diamond on YouTube. He immediately mutes it, pauses it and goes frame by frame to find what he wants. He grimaces the entire time, glad to have been away while this whole thing happened. Though maybe if he had been there and knew how dire the situation really was he could’ve done something to avoid it dragging on and ending the way it did.

He barely recognizes his brother in the frames, all caked up to hide his true face, wearing a fake smile and clothes that Damian might have once bet Jason would never wear, and he’s not interested in hearing his voice or seeing him move, already bothered enough by Jason’s tone and mannerisms nowadays that he doesn’t want to see when it was even worse. Jason’s voice used to be low, and he used to move in ways that would make it hard to notice him despite his size, and now Jason’s voice is higher, more melodic and soft, and he flows in his body all the time, even when he cries or gets angry. It’s only annoying because Damian has a very rigid perception of all his close ones and hates when they stray from the rules he made for them in his head; Jason is strong, silent and big, he likes classic literature, opera, metal and really strange underground bands no one ever heard of, he doesn’t settle and he’s highly intelligent, he’s determined and creative, he plays into people’s poor analysis of his character to protect himself and hide his vulnerabilities—like pretending he’s impulsive when he literally doesn’t do anything without extensively planning it beforehand. Jason isn’t allowed to be weak-willed, to avoid reading romance, to see himself as stupid, to devote himself to the wrong person. He’s not allowed to act soft and to be vulnerable and scared, to let people see him broken. By breaking these rules Jason makes it very hard for Damian to stay patient with him, and though in therapy he’d be told it’s a good opportunity to work on his own rigidity he fails to see the positive in such a situation.

With all of that in mind, he gets to work a bit bitterly once he finds what he needs in the video, does his best to let go of his resentment so it doesn’t stain his canvas.

Jason is allowed to fail, just like everyone else. He’s allowed to be human and to have weaknesses be exploited. He didn’t let all of that happen to him, he didn’t choose to ruin his life. Jason is still Damian’s brother, he’s allowed to change, he’s not a bad person for having left. He did what he thought needed to be done, brought upon himself his own downfall without realizing it. It isn’t his fault. Things can be rebuilt and repaired, Jason can still change. Nothing is set in stone. Mistakes can be corrected, reality can be altered, just like a painting.

Damian loosens up a bit, his brush flowing more comfortably against the canvas.

He wants to do nice things for his brother. It isn’t a sign of weakness to do things for others, especially someone that is currently very vulnerable. He isn’t ashamed about finding joy in putting time and effort into things he does for family. He isn’t afraid of people seeing that he cares.

He’s not angry at Jason. Truly. He’s angry at the world for making Jason think he had to leave, and for putting him in a situation that made him believe he had no home to go back to. It’s just easier to blame the person instead of the circumstances, and though Jason has his faults he is not the one that fucked up.

“Oh, hey, I didn’t know you were here.”

Damian turns around, glares at Tim. Though he’s been working on himself for years now, being interrupted while he creates is still the thing that makes him unreasonably angry the most.

“Sorry, I just needed a paintbrush for a case. Can I borrow one?”

The cadet bites the inside of his cheeks, takes hold of his anger before it takes control, and breathes out. “Depends which one.”

Tim approaches to select one, by doing so sees the paused video on the tablet. “Why are you watching that?”

“Reference.”

He takes a second to look at the image. “You’re recreating a painting he used to have?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He misses it. I’ll redo it better for him.”

Tim nods. “That’s nice.” Bites his lip and thinks for a moment. “Can I do something to help?”

“Why?”

“I want to do something nice for him too.”

“Why?”

“I just do, why are you so pressed about it?”

“You want him to like you.”

The older brother rolls his eyes. “I don’t want him to like me, I just also don’t want him to hate me.”

“You’re jealous because you’re the person he’s least close to.”

“No, that’s not it, I don’t care I just don’t want him to keep hating my guts, that’s it.”

“Because you like him and you want him to like you.”

“I— alright fine, so what? He’s fine being your brother and you’re the most insufferable person on earth, why can’t I at least be someone he doesn’t mind the company of?”

“You’re awkward and nerdy, and you don’t even try to speak to him. I wouldn’t like you either if I was him.”

Tim’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenches. “Fine, then, fuck you.” He yanks the paintbrush from Damian’s hand and storms off, which of course angers Damian who runs after him, which then evolves into a fight.

Their screaming and wresting quickly draws attention especially as they chase each other through the manor, Alfred thankfully getting involved before things go too far.

It takes quite a lot of effort to get them to settle down, and a lot of time to get them to talk. For a while they just insult each other and push each other, refusing to cooperate and tell Alfred why they’re fighting.

Eventually Alfred understands they’re going nowhere so he lets them go, Damian going back to his art studio with his paintbrush and Tim coming with him to find one somewhere else. Sometimes they just need some time apart and then they’ll come back to each other and work it out, it’s useless to push when they’re both still angry.

As it’s just him and Tim he does try to ask again what their dispute was about but he only receives an aggrieved “nothing” as an answer.

When they find a paintbrush, Tim grabs it, turns around to walk away but stops himself.

“Do you…” He hesitates. “Do you know if there’s something I can do to make Jason hate me less..?”

“Why would you believe he hates you?”

“Because he literally does.”

“I think you simply have to spend more time with him. That’s what we all did, and it was hard for all of us at first.”

Tim sighs, well aware that won’t work with him. He already tried to bond with Jason and it failed, maybe it’s just doomed but he’s incapable of giving up. He’ll figure out this puzzle too.

◌

He gives himself three tries. Last time was his first try, now he’s going to try a second time—if Jason allows him—and if he fails on his third attempt he will accept that he’s basically just a cleaner in Jason’s life, there to help with the dishes on the days he’s allowed to come by. He just can’t let Damian be right so easily, he can’t prove him right by giving up.

So today he accompanies Dick and Barbara to Jason’s place, riding with them so they can give him advice.

“But I feel bad just seeing him, I don’t wanna make him uncomfortable.”

“You don’t make him uncomfortable, things are just a bit weird but it’s not a lost cause,” Dick replies. “And if he really didn’t want to see you he wouldn’t have said okay quickly when we asked him over the phone if you could come.”

“Maybe he feels forced.”

“If he felt forced he would’ve paused for a really long time and then he would’ve said ‘okay, yes, okay, sure’ like he always does when we suggest something he doesn’t wanna do.”

Tim sighs, looks out the window. “I don’t have a base with him like you all do, maybe it’s too late.”

“That literally makes no sense. Why would it be too late?” Barbara asks.

“I dunno, maybe it just is.”

“Y’know we didn’t get along at first, I was mean to him and we still ended up bonding over circus stuff, you just need something to talk about.”

“But I have nothing to talk to him about. Literally everything we have in common is this family and in his head I’m not even part of it.”

“That’s just what you’re assuming, he never said anything like that.”

“He doesn’t have to.”

“Y’know maybe he feels your hopelessness and interprets it as you not wanting to be family.”

“I wouldn’t feel hopeless if he didn’t give off the vibe that he hates me.”

“Not to be mean but you’re treating him a bit unfairly. He invites you into his home, he lets you get close to him and Sarah whom he adores, and he’s like super traumatized, obviously it’s hard for him to let people know him as he is, it’s your job to walk through the door he opened for you, that’s what we all did and it’s why he’s more open with us.”

“Yeah but what if I push wrong or too much? What if I just trigger him?”

“Then you take a step back and try again if he lets you.”

“So… I just take the risk?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

◌

“I’ll take care of the dishes, go talk to him,” Barbara whispers as she nudges Tim.

He looks outside, where Jason is peacefully sitting under a tree with Sarah over his lap. “I can’t right now, he’s like meditating or something.”

“Just ask him if you can join him.”

“What if he doesn’t say no but wants to?”

“What if you spend the entire day avoiding him and accidentally make things worse? Go see him.”

After sighing, Tim complies and makes his way outside, fidgeting nervously with his hands.

He doesn’t try to be quiet as he approaches Jason, clears his throat lightly as to not startle him. “Hey,” he greets shyly once he’s close enough for a conversation but still far enough as to not scare him. “Can I sit down too?”

Jason looks at him and nods.

There’s a few seconds of awkward silence after Tim settles on the ground. “I heard your back’s better.”

“Mhmh.”

“…… Listen, I just wanna apologize for last time, if I said something that made you uncomfortable or something, I was just trying to help, I didn’t intend to come off as rude.”

“You didn’t do anything that requires an apology. I’m the one who was rude, I’m sorry for that.”

“What? No you weren’t… you don’t have to apologize, you weren’t rude, I’m the one that overstepped boundaries.”

Jason looks at him, frowning. “Boundaries?”

For some reason, Tim’s brain decides to interpret that as Jason not knowing what boundaries mean because he’s nervous and unfamiliar with him and maybe a bit stupid because he actually starts to explain the definition of boundary as if Jason only ever knew the life he lived with Roman and hasn’t had a life before or after, as if all he ever learned was what Roman explicitly taught him.

“I know what boundary means,” Jason lets out a bit sheepishly, looking down, not insulted per se but hurt and embarrassed that someone would assume he doesn’t know what a boundary is. He knows they have a low opinion of him, he didn’t think it was that low.

Shame and guilt bloom through the younger one, immediately he tries to backtrack on his mistake and recover it into an explanation of what he thinks Jason’s boundaries are so he doesn’t look like a complete asshole. But Jason doesn’t look like he’s listening to him anymore, he’s staring at the ground with an absent expression, obviously really fucking hurt by Tim assuming he doesn’t know the meaning of a word because he used to be exploited for his body.

“Sorry,” Tim lets out as he gets up and quickly walks away, scared of making things worse, overridden by remorse. “I think one of you guys have to go see him, I fucked it up and I dunno, I think maybe he’s gonna start crying or something,” he tells Dick and Barbara, a bit panicked, once he gets back to them.

“Why, what happened?”

“I was trying to apologize for last time and he acted confused when I said ‘boundaries’ so like an idiot I thought it meant he didn’t know what that word was so I explained it to him….”

“… oh.” The two eldest look at Jason outside, then at each other.

“I’ll go see him,” Barbara declares.

Tim passes a hand through his hair, lets out a nervous breath. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, we all mess up from time to time,” Dick comforts, feeling bad for his two brothers.

“Do you all really think I’m that stupid?” Jason asks Barbara when he hears her approach, on the verge of tears. “I mean… I know I am, but… is it really that bad..?”

“No one thinks you’re stupid, Jay. Tim over-explains when he’s nervous, he didn’t mean to insult you.”

“I know I’m just an expired blow up doll,” he sobs, “but I… I’m really trying, I thought… I thought I was trying…”

“We’re not going to revert to that mindset, okay? You’re a human being and you are trying, no one thinks you’re stupid. It was just a misunderstanding.”

“He knows no matter what I do he’ll always be better than me, right..? He’s younger and—“

“Jason. That hierarchy you make up in your head isn’t real and no one else lives by it. You’re not at the bottom and no one’s at the top, no one’s inherently better than anyone else. Do you remember all the conversations we had about this? I don’t mind having another one but it’s important you recall good things when you’re feeling like this.”

Indoors, Tim chews at his lower lip while looking at Barbara and Jason, not hearing their conversation which makes him imagine the worst.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Dick tells him. “Y’know there was a point where I thought he’d never want to see me again and now I come here almost every day and we’re on super good terms.”

“Yeah ‘cause you already knew each other.”

“That didn’t matter to him, he all saw us as strangers at first.”

“But he didn’t really, that’s the whole thing. I’m an actual stranger, and worse I’m the replacement for who he was in his past life. I’m like, a full on threat.”

“I think you’re just approaching things wrong.”

“Yeah, obviously,” Tim replies dejectedly, angry at himself.

“Okay well you just gotta try something different. Don’t try to have a heart to heart with him, lay a base first. Next time just apologize and then move on, don’t try to explain yourself, and make boring small talk instead. It’ll show you’re safe to be around.”

“If he ever lets me approach him ever again…”

“If he let Bruce stay in his life I think he’ll let you stay too.”

◌

Today is his last attempt. He feels bad enough, he doesn’t want to harass Jason when clearly they’re not meant to know each other. If he doesn’t fuck up today he’ll see it as a sign that he should keep trying, and if he does fuck up he’ll get the message and leave Jason be, will only lend a hand when he’s asked and won’t divert from his task.

He’s accompanying Dick and Barbara again, surprised that Jason even said yes to that, and apparently his back is healed now so he should be in a lighter mood in general which should make it easier for Tim to talk to him without triggering him.

Once there, he tries to evaluate first how uncomfortable Jason is around him. Since he doesn’t need help for everything he’s actually doing the chores with them, and it takes maybe the fraction of a second for Tim to see he’s favouring Barbara and Dick, though he doesn’t ignore his existence entirely as he stays near his older siblings.

Only Barbara goes with Jason in his bedroom upstairs, she’s helping him decorate for a sleepover with Cass and Steph tonight, and while that happens Dick and Tim prepare the kitchen so they can cook snacks and make non-alcoholic drinks once the two others come back.

“He asked you how you were, that’s a good sign,” Dick encourages.

“Ah yes the person who’s incapable of being impolite has been polite, truly unprecedented.”

“C’mon, man, don’t be such a fatalist.”

“I’m just saying, him asking one question in reply to me asking how he’s doing isn’t a sign of anything.”

“And I’m just saying, have some faith in him.”

“It’s not him I don’t have faith in, it’s our ability to talk without me saying something stupid.”

“He’s not a kid, he’s mature and understanding, I don’t think he’ll cut you off so easily.”

“Yeah but he holds grudges.”

“I don’t think he does anymore.”

“Okay then he’ll force himself to keep me around and I’ll be the bad guy.”

“Dude, I think you have to talk about this in therapy, you’re kinda forcing Jay to stay a victim by perceiving all that stuff like you do.”

“I mean, isn’t he a victim? Shouldn’t I be careful around him?”

“Yeah but he’s a person, he’s not just his victimhood, you don’t have to walk on eggshells around him you just have to stay mindful of his triggers.”

“Yeah but he’s triggered by everything, I don’t know how to talk to him.”

“That’s not true, he’s—“ He hears Jason and Barbara coming downstairs. “Just watch, do like me, you’ll see it’s really not that bad.” He turns towards Jason when he walks in the kitchen, smiles. “Hey, by the way it’s supposed to rain Wednesday and if you’re up for it I thought we could set up your hoop outside for some added drama.”

Jason’s face lights up. “I’d like that.”

“Cool, it’s a date, then.”

A second of pensive silence, Jason thinking about it. “I won’t get in trouble, right..?”

“For going out in the rain?”

He nods.

“No, you won’t. We’ll stay careful and we’ll go inside if we get cold, and if we get sick anyway then that’s not gonna be a problem, we’ll just take care of ourselves until we get better.”

Jason considers him. “Alright.”

As they prepare the amuse-bouches, Tim studies the way Dick and Barbara interact with Jason while doing his best staying out of their way.

Jason, used to scrutiny, notices but acts like he doesn’t, simply reverts to making sure all of his movements and wording are perfect. He keeps a light smile on his face, is overly aware of every inch of his body, his heart beating a bit fast but not at a point where he starts getting palpitations. He can handle this, whatever he’s being evaluated on he can pass.

There is a bit of an uncomfortable air whenever Jason measures ingredients, he’s always so careful to get the exact amount needed so he can calculate the calories as accurately as possible, he insists on making the portions and looks at them to make sure they don’t add anything when they mix ingredients, and though they’ve had conversations about it before it’s hard to navigate without Harley there so for today they stay quiet about it. Aerials have helped encourage him to eat more, he doesn’t over restricts but he still stresses about food which isn’t really good.

As they put together some snacks, Jason looks at Barbara who nods at him, and then turns to Tim. “I’ve heard you enjoy photography. Do you still pursue it?”

Tim frowns, looks around. “Who, me?”

“Mhmh.”

“Uhh… yeah, I do. Just as a hobby, though.”

Jason smiles at him. “That’s nice.” He turns to Barbara again for some guidance. “What… what kind of subject do you photograph?”

“I, uh, I like photographing places mostly.”

“What kinds of places?”

“Any place where a ray or beam of light hits.”

“That’s very poetic.”

“It…” He looks at Dick who silently encourages him to keep going. “It actually started as a, uh, therapy exercise about finding the light in unexpected places.”

“I didn’t know you were a romantic.”

“Wh— what’s the, I mean, what’s the connection?”

“Well there’s nothing more romantic than sunlight, especially amongst shadows,” Jason replies with a hint of pain, his brows furrowing, his jaw tightened.

“O-Oh… uh… I didn’t see it that way, to be honest,” he lets out hesitantly.

“How would you see such a thing, then? Isn’t romance everything beautiful and hopeful?”

“I… guess..?”

“You don’t have to agree with me, I am genuinely asking.”

“I mean, I just… I don’t…” He stops. This feels like he’s walking around landmines, and he has no idea why it’s Jason who’s trying to converse with him instead of the other way around.

Jason tilts his head, attentive, waits for the rest.

“I just… I don’t think I see romance the way you do, maybe..?”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to.” Jason offers a polite smile. “None of you see it like I do. But I knew someone who did, he—“ He turns to Barbara. “How is he, by the way?”

“Who?”

“Jack.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s doing very well.”

His polite smile turns into a genuinely happy one. “I’m glad.” He turns back to Tim. “Have you ever met him?”

“Uh, y-yeah, I have.”

“Really? He’s very nice, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he really is,” Tim replies, refraining from mentioning that Bruce hired him as a photographer for the Diamond Agency.

Though it’s obvious Jason is relying on his Red habits to converse, they do not comment on it; progress is progress and right now he’s making conversation with Tim, and eventually he won’t need to act like Red as much with him and he’ll be able to be himself more comfortably. For now he just needs a little help from old habits, which isn’t inherently bad. He manages to have an interesting conversation about cameras, though he doesn’t remember as much about photography as he used to it’s still enough knowledge to entertain his guests for a bit, and as conversations normally go eventually their subject changes and they manage to speak without major hiccups until Steph and Cass arrive.

“Did I— was that a success?” Tim asks Dick and Barbara once they’re in the car.

“Yeah, I think that definitely was.”

Tim smiles, looks out the window. Though he does feel a bit bad that Jason was the one to finally break the ice, he’s very glad that happened because now it means he can keep trying.

They might be friends, even brothers, one day after all.

Chapter Text

The sleepover is fun, Jason, Cass and Steph eat, drink and play games together, they talk a lot too and watch Legally Blonde together, they look at the sunset and comfort Jason as he gets emotional over it, and eventually they go in his bedroom and settle in the blanket fort, where they talk some more.

“How many chances does someone deserve before they must be abandoned?” Jason asks as he stares at the blanket ceiling, lying down on his back.

“Depends what the person did, I guess,” Steph replies. “And if they mean to hurt or not.”

For a moment, silence floats in the air. It isn’t uncomfortable, though Jason’s uncertainty can be felt alongside it.

“…… do you really believe Bruce doesn’t resent me..? That he doesn’t hate me for what I’ve done..?”

“Jay,” Steph starts, turning towards him, “Bruce is far from hating you, he adores you. I can’t even count the amount of times he cried in front of us over you, and you know how rare him crying in front of people is. He’s always trying to figure out ways to connect with you, and he always asks us how you’re doing after we see you. There is not a bone is his body that harbours any kind of negative feeling towards you, I can promise you that.”

Gentle tears start to flow down the sides of his face. “What if he doesn’t know all I’ve done..?”

Cass puts a hand over his, squeezes lightly.

“He’d forgive you no matter what, I’m sure of it.”

This isn’t their first sleepover, and every time the night comes their conversations become more existential, sad, contemplative, which isn’t bad, it’s actually very therapeutic and brings them closer. Steph and Cass are happy to be safe enough for Jason to confide in them, to ask them questions that weigh heavy on his heart and soul, and sometimes it’s them who ask about their life and how they’ve lived. So, despite their conversation taking a gloomier turn, they are comfortable and happy, close to each other in every sense and simply open to one another without shame or fear.

Jason, constantly tormented by his memories of Mark, does not dare speak of him yet, but keeping what happened to himself starts to feel like he’s constantly choking and gasping for air. He’s afraid that they’ll all abandon him if he admits what he’s done, that they’ll take everything from him and leave him to rot, but to withhold the fact that he killed someone over a confession, over a word he didn’t want to hear, feels wrong when he’s being treated like he’s only ever been the one to have suffered.
What happened then, he managed to overcome until Cali confessed feelings for him. But receiving another confession from someone he thought different brought all that shit back to the surface and he knows he killed before but… Mark wasn’t a criminal, and hadn’t even tried yet to touch him. He just… brought up what he thought was in the special cigarettes after admitting his feelings and Jason got scared, he didn’t mean to kill him, he didn’t realize he shoved the knife in his lung and…

He should’ve just called Roman. If he did, Roman would’ve definitely killed Mark but at least it wouldn’t have been Jason’s fault, and then he wouldn’t feel like such a disgusting person for making these people believe he was only ever on the receiving end of violence.

But Bruce fought him over killing before. Hurt him over it. What if Bruce hits him again? What if… what if he’s just meant to be beaten, what if he can’t escape it, what if this time there won’t even be care behind the punches? Roman only ever hurt him to better him, punishments were meant to teach a lesson. What if Bruce hits him simply to hurt him? Of course he’d deserve it, but… he’s still scared. He doesn’t want— he doesn’t want to be hit anymore. It’s been too long, he’d have to get used to it all over again and he doesn’t think he could do that. He doesn’t think he has the strength for that anymore.

“I think you should talk to him,” Steph suggests softly, her hand in his hair. “I think you should let him explain to you how much you mean to him until it finally clicks that he’s saying the truth.”

There’s some more silence, he’s calmed by Cass’s breaths, his head over her stomach, still holding one of her hands, stopped from spiralling no matter how afraid he feels.

“You know the program he started, for people who want to get out of the industry? There’s a few blocks of apartments for those people, it’s free and all appliances included, and it’s really nice, I’ve been a couple of times to help out. Bruce goes by every day, and he’s the one who fixes things when they break, and he’s the one who brings them cake for their birthdays and who sets up parties for special occasions. One of the girls just hit her one year sober mark and he organized the celebration, he was so proud of her and so happy, and you know what he told me? He said that there’s nothing he wishes more than to give you a moment like this too. I probably shouldn’t say but he has a bunch of stuff pre-organized for you in case one day you let him celebrate you, no matter what it’s for. He just wants to help you and uplift you, there is nothing you could have done that would change his mind. Some of the people who come for the program have done bad things, and Bruce welcomes them all the same. So no matter what you think you’ve done that is unforgivable, Bruce, and all of us for that matter, will love you all the same.”

◌

Harley looks at Jason, frowns. “Are you sure?”

He nods. “I am.”

“Okay, well I’m sure he’ll be super happy about that, but obvi you can change your mind whenever, and if you don’t wanna be alone with him anymore you can call me and I’ll be there right away.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

She takes his hand, smiles. “I’m really proud of you. I hope you know that.”

His cheeks flush, his gaze lowers.

He’d be lying if he said he isn’t nervous, but after his conversation with Steph and Cass last night he simply cannot bear lying any longer.

He will admit it all to Bruce, and Bruce will decide his fate.

◌

The knock on his door has him jump, Sarah, sensing his stress, stays close to him, ready to defend him.

He goes to the door, opens it and quickly steps back to put a safe distance between himself and Bruce without either giving off the impression that he’s trying to insult him.

“Please, come in,” he invites politely, a slight tremor in his voice.

Bruce slowly walks in, and, having expected Jason to be nervous, he takes off his hoodie and holds it so he has something soft and non threatening in his hands. He sees this was a good idea as he quickly notices Jason keeps an eye on his fists, which does have him feel bad but he doesn’t let that show. He returns his son’s politeness, sits when he’s offered to and only talks of surface level things, letting Jason choose the real subject.

Fidgeting, the youngest sits as far away from Bruce as he can without appearing rude, avoiding eye contact, and silence swallows the room for a minute or two.

Bruce, accustomed to quiet, doesn’t try to speak first especially as he sees that Jason is trying to muster the courage to say something. He doesn’t want to ruin it, he doesn’t want to accidentally interrupt him.

“I… I heard that your program is working well,” the youngest finally pushes out.

“Yes, it is.” He offers a reassuring smile, his own heart racing. He’s well aware that this is a gigantic step, for Jason to not only consent to being alone here with a man but for that man to be Bruce too. He desperately wants this to go well, and he has no idea what to expect, he is terrified of everything that could go wrong yet painfully hopeful that all will be fixed this very afternoon.

“That’s good…” He chews at his lip, pets Sarah absently. “I…” This is hard. The last time he admitted something he did wrong was when he tried to get Roman to kill him, and now he doesn’t want to be hurt, he… “I think I’d like to live…”

Hearing that takes everything out of Bruce to resist bursting into tears. He never thought he’d ever hear him say such a thing in his entire life.

“… and I think I found love outside of Roman and it… it’s good and… you’ve all given me things I couldn’t have ever thought I wanted…” He takes a moment to breathe, to keep his thoughts in order, to gather the courage to say what he has to say. “But I don’t deserve any of it.”

Bruce clears his throat before attempting to speak. “That’s not—“ He clears it again, swallows. “That’s not true, you do deserve it. Jason, you deserve every good thing in the world.”

“I…” He keeps his mouth open, tries to say it.

He killed someone, someone who didn’t do anything wrong. With his own hands, in his home. He killed someone for having feelings for him, for telling him something Bruce told him.

What if… what if admitting it makes it real? Makes what was in the special cigarettes something bad, something from his past. As long as he keeps Mark buried he can act like Bruce was delusional or a liar, but if he’s been told by two people who would definitely know, then…

He can’t do this.

“I’m sorry for having wasted your time,” he blurts out before running upstairs, Sarah following him closely.

“Jason—“

But the youngest is gone, and Bruce stays planted there, confused, worried.

Should he go after him? Or would that just terrify him and set them back? But he can’t leave this conversation like this, he can’t drop that.

For a bit he stays in place, trying to figure out what the best approach would be.

As time passes he gets more and more afraid of currently overstaying his welcome, and so finally he decides to write a note saying ‘I would be glad to come back. Please ask me to come back” and then reluctantly leaves.

◌

Jason struggles getting out of bed, even Dick doesn’t manage to make him go outside to do hoop in the rain like they planned. It’s not one of his usual depressive episodes; he’s more scared than usual, has so many nightmares he barely manages to sleep and so becomes so exhausted he simply doesn’t have the strength to leave his bed.

The day Damian finishes his painting, he is convinced that he will be the one to fix Jason’s mood by gifting it to him. He comes over with his mother, the painting wrapped in a large blanket, and goes to see him in his bedroom.

Jason frowns when he sees him, tired eyes curiously fixed on the large rectangular object Damian is holding.
Before Damian unveils his work though, Talia sits on Jason’s bed and checks up on him, taking his temperature with the back of her hand, then, finding it unsatisfactory, helps him sit up against her so she can instead press his forehead against her cheek.

“How much have you been sleeping?”

He shrugs with almost no energy, leans against her shoulder. Her being here does comfort him; she isn’t as harsh as Bruce, surely she wouldn’t let him rot if he gets abandoned because of what he’s done in the past. If the truth comes out, if he vomits out his faults, and Bruce throws him out, Talia would surely bring him to his old home, far away from Gotham and all its cursed memories, right?

If he had the strength to speak he’d ask her, but sitting up took everything he had already.

“Now might I do my reveal? I think you’ll be quite pleased with it.”

With a racing heart, Jason hums, his brows furrowed and breaths shallow. He’s not in the mood for surprises but he doesn’t have the heart to turn down Damian.

Therefore he watches his little brother take the blanket off, and at first he frowns even more, not understanding what’s happening, thinking maybe he’s not actually awake right now.

“I remade the painting of Sarah you used to have,” the youngest explains since Jason just stares at it as if confused.

“You,” he breathes out hoarsely. “You did that for me..?”

“Yes. Do you not like it?”

“No, I—“ Tears come up. “I do, I…” He puts a hand over his mouth, presses hard to muffle his desperate gasp for air.

He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

He wants to go home, he needs to go back home, he misses Roman, he…

Talia pulls him in and holds him against her chest to help him calm down, while Damian does his best to not be angry.

Jason is allowed to be messy and emotional, even if Damian would’ve preferred him not to react that way. But Jason was supposed to smile and thank him, he was supposed to get out of bed and go outside with him and Sarah and they were supposed to have a nice brother moment together. This was supposed to single him out as the best brother and he was supposed to show Jason that every good thing he used to have can be remade without him having to suffer for it. Now his expectations have been crushed and it takes him everything to not lash out because of it.

He can feel his anger rises despite his attempts to rationalize it, and so storms out before he says something he’ll regret.
Jason flinches when the door gets slammed, his tears multiplying, anchoring Talia here with his sorrow.

She doesn’t mind, only she wishes she could speak with Damian too, but Jason needs to be comforted first. She expected him to shed tears over the painting, but his current state doesn’t resemble that of what she thought he’d be like, and she knows him, she can tell he is holding back something that seeps into every moment, something that haunts him.

Therefore, she does her motherly duty to stay by his side, helps him calm down.

She gets up and turns around the painting to face the wall when he requests it in a tearful sob, then gets back to him, cradling him some more.

“I can tell something is weighing on you, son. You know you can tell your mother anything,” she coaxes.

He knows he has more chances of not being hurt if he admits what happened to Talia. But what if he deserves to be hurt? What if he deserves to be beaten by Bruce for what he’s done?

“It’s alright, my phoenix. You can talk to me.”

But he can’t. The words don’t come out no matter how hard he tries. He’s not ready yet.

◌

“It’s not that I want to say it,” he says softly, laid on his bed, hands over his eyes.

“I find that hard to believe considering how you keep trying to do it,” Roman’s voice replies.

“I just… I’m sorry, I… I just can’t stop thinking about it…”

“You didn’t think about it for six years.”

“Yeah but then— then Cali confessed and…” He bites his lip. “I miss you so much,” he cries out desperately.

A deep sigh resonates in his ears. “You’re the one who betrayed me.”

“But you’re the one who didn’t kill me…”

“Oh so it’s my fault, now, is it? Next you’re going to say that everything wrong in the world is because of me too.”

“No, I—“ He sobs. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I—“

“You know what? Tell them all what happened. Maybe they’ll finally put you out of your misery.”

“Roman—“

“No, do it. You haven’t had a beating in too long, it’s making you particularly stupid.”

He sobs harder, burrows his face in his pillows.

“Look at yourself, Jason. You’re old, broken, completely useless. Haunted by the dumbest shit in the world.“ Another sigh. “It’s pathetic, I’m ashamed to have ever known you.”

“I’m sorry, I— I’ll make it right this— this time, I promise,” he sniffles and cries pathetically.

“We’ll see.”

◌

Here he is again, alone with Bruce, staring at his fists instead of his face, sitting far from him while he gathers the courage to get closer.
He locked Sarah in his bedroom for her own good, so that if he gets beaten she won’t be hurt too because she tried to protect him.

“Go ahead. Say it,” Roman’s voice resonates loudly in his ears. “Get it over with.”

“I’m sorry for last time,” he chokes out, fidgeting with his hands. “I hope it wasn’t— I hope it wasn’t too big an inconvenience…” He pinches his lips together, swallows. “I…” He makes eye contact for a brief second, looks back down at Bruce’s fists. “I’m ready to accept whatever happens now, I wasn’t ready last time… it’s just— I haven’t been hit in so long and I’m afraid, but— but that doesn’t matter. I’m sorry… I—“

Bruce who has refrained from saying anything so far to let his son speak now cannot hold his tongue. “Why would you be hit?”

“Because I— because I did something wrong that you’ve already… you’ve already hurt me for, so… so I know this won’t end well for me but I’m fine with that now, I just… I…”

“Jason, I’m not going to hit you no matter what you tell me,” the oldest assures, brows furrowed, leaned forward on his seat.

“It’s okay if you do, I’m ready now, it’s just… it’s hard for me because it’s been so long but— but I won’t try to get away, I won’t fight back, I promise.”

Bruce’s mouth hangs open, unable to find the right reply to that, thinking and feeling so many things at the same time none of it manages to come out.

“So… I, uh…. I… I… I had a social media manager, my— my first one, in the first year that I was a— a star and…” The lump in his throat makes it hard to speak. His voice is hoarse, his tongue pasty, feeling tight and constricted in his entire body. “And after the first livestream Roman gave me my first— my first special cigarette…” He keeps his watery eyes fixed on Bruce’s fists, unable to look any higher. “The next day, I… I ended up being alone with Mark and he… he confessed feelings for me and we were alone at home and I got so scared of him so I— I grabbed a knife in the kitchen to defend myself because I thought he’d try to take me away and do— do things to me and I should’ve called Roman, I know that, I should’ve called for help but I didn’t think of it at the time and then he— he approached me and he brought up the special cigarettes and he— and I was terrified so when he tried to say what he thought was in them I— I— I don’t know, I panicked, I moved without thinking and I— I stabbed him in— in the lung and I froze and I waited for Roman to come home, I waited hours just— just looking at the body because I thought he might get up and hurt me and I was so scared and I know it doesn’t make it right, I know I deserve bad things for it because he didn’t even lay a hand on me, he hadn’t done anything real yet, I just— I just didn’t want to hear him say the word and I didn’t even tell Roman about that because I’m just so ashamed and I’m so sorry, I’m—“ He’s cut off by his own voice breaking and coming back in a sob, no more words able to come out of his mouth. He puts a hand over it, tries to get ahold of his breathing, but now that the truth is out he has absolutely no control over anything at all. He didn’t mean to vomit all of this like that, he doesn’t want Bruce to think that he was making excuses, originally he planned to just admit what he said without context because what would context do? Make what was in the special cigarettes real? If he had just killed Mark out of malice and not desperation then at least he could just take his beating without his heart racing the way it is right now, he wouldn’t have anything to feel nauseous about because now it starts to feel like he admitted that he’s always known and that he willingly chose not to acknowledge it because he’s a coward and a horrible person who has no right to act the way he does because at the end of the day he has no principles strong enough to stand by when an authority figure tells him to do something.

It’s not silent, though no word is spoken for a while Jason’s heart and mind make so much noise he’s convinced Bruce can hear his every thought.

“You’re being dramatic about the cigarettes again,” Roman’s voice echoes in his ears over the blood rushing loudly. “I thought we were past this.”

His eyes can’t focus, everything is blurry, he can’t see anything and he’s so fucking scared and ashamed and in pain and fuck if he had called Roman then none of this would be happening, he wouldn’t have had to bring up the special cigarettes ever again.

What happens now? He’ll get beat up and then what? Then he’ll have to acknowledge what was in— what the truth is?

But Roman wouldn’t have done that to him. It’s something else. It has to be something else. It can’t—

A hand squeezes his hand. He flinches, his heart doubling in speed. He’s starting to get palpitations, and the air starts to feel thin and stiff, he might actually die if he gets hit while having an asthma attack and heart palpitations at the same time.

Why does he even get asthma attacks and heart palpitations? What kind of substance could have that effect on him if he did enough, if he went through a binge?

He knows the answer. He knows that he knows. But he can’t— he can’t say it, he can’t acknowledge it.

Roman wouldn’t have done that to him.

No hits are coming. Instead, his inhaler is being put in his hands.

Maybe Bruce wants him to be more lucid while he beats him, or just wants to make sure he doesn’t die during.

He struggles with it, has to try a couple of times before he manages to actually take the medication. Once he does, Bruce takes the inhaler and puts it on the low table before grabbing both his hands and squeezing them.

His vision gets a bit clearer, the air can circulate into his lungs again, and only now does he realize Bruce is speaking to him while kneeling at his feet. “I don’t— I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he croaks in between sniffles and sobs. “I’m sorry, I…” He hates that Bruce is lower than him. He’s the one that should be on the floor, not— not the other way around, but he’s paralyzed, incapable of moving away no matter how wrong this feels. He’s forced to stay planted there until he’s not deafened by the blood rushing in his ears anymore.

“Jason?” Bruce asks when he makes eye contact. “Jason, I’m sorry for touching you, but I can’t— I can’t let go of you, I need you to understand that I love you, I’m not going to hurt you so please…” He squeezes some more, his own heart racing too, his entire body aching. “You’re safe with me, I won’t hurt you. I— I won’t hit you, I won’t punish you for anything you’ve done. It’s alright, I understand. I’m not angry.” He looks at him, tries to show as much openness as he can so his son may see he is nothing but honest. “Jason, I am not angry and I will not hurt you.”

“You can’t— you can’t expect me to believe that,” he replies weakly. “You can hurt me, I’m— I’m ready…”

“Jason—“

“Just— Just do it, please, I deserve it,” the youngest pleads hoarsely, guiding Bruce’s hands to his throat. “Just please get it over with, please…” He’s terrified, shaking, having a man’s hands on him like this—Bruce’s hands—but he won’t fight, he won’t resist. He has this coming. He tasted Bruce’s anger before, and sure that’s what killed him, what sent him in the arms of Roman, but that’s fine because when it comes down to it what he wants does not matter. He’s careful about his own anger, deep down he knows he resents Bruce for having allowed him to get far from him and close to Roman, and he is angry that Roman took all of his sacrifices for granted, but those feelings are buried deeper than the truth about the special cigarettes. Anger is not his emotion to have. He is thankful and compliant, he can be sad and peeved but never angry, never vengeful, never betrayed. He loves or he ignores, but he never hates. He can’t. If he does, everything will come undone. Too much will pour out and he’s afraid of how that’ll happen, he’s afraid of the parts of himself that might come back to life.

But instead of punishing him, of making sure he remembers his place, Bruce brings his hands up and cradles his face. He cradles him so softly it’s almost sickening, the fatherly love he’s been craving and yearning for years now burning his cheeks, and it hurts, it’s too much, it’s too late, but…

But the pain doesn’t stay long. Once it melts through the layers he hid under for years, it reaches the little boy that’s still there despite it all, that still needs it like he needs oxygen.

He considers him for a moment through his teary eyes, Bruce staring back with a gaze so gentle it keeps all the layers away.

“……. do you… do you really still love me..?”

“I’ve never stopped, Jason. Not even for a second.”

Jason presses Bruce’s hands against his cheeks to feel them more. “And you still— do you still care about me..?”

“Of course I do. I always have.”

“So— so you’re gonna hit me now, right..? And it’s— it’s gonna make everything better, it’s—“

“Jason, please listen to me. I am not going to hurt you. I don’t— I don’t believe in that, I won’t hit you, ever. I know you said that— that he used to hurt you to make you better but I’m not like this, I won’t lay a hand on you like that ever and I’m sorry I’ve done it before, I’m sorry we fought before, there’s not a day that passes by without me regretting it, I… I don’t ever want to cause you pain ever again, I just want you to feel safe, so please believe me when I tell you that I do not want to hurt you, okay..?”

Jason stares at him, warm tears flowing down his flushed face. He can read Bruce too easily which makes him feel like he can’t read him at all, words like these hard to believe no matter how long it’s been since he’s heard their contraries. But being hit is ritualistic, when he offers himself up for a beating he needs to get it otherwise his brain won’t manage to move on, he’ll stay stuck and start to spiral because what if he’s not worth the effort of raising a hand? What if he’s not worth touching anymore?

Bruce is touching him right now, though. And it’s gentle, it has no prickly attachments, nothing bad lingering behind, waiting for an opportunity. He likes being touched like that. It hasn’t been Bruce since his rebirth—since neither of his rebirths. But he really does like it.

“I— I think I need you to… to hit me, but… but I really want you to hold me…”

There is not even a second spent to make that choice, Bruce takes him in his arms like he should’ve done years ago, starting to think that maybe he’s dreaming because never has he thought he’d ever get to give Jason the love he failed to give him before.

Against his chest, Jason can hear Bruce’s heartbeat. It’s erratic, intense, like his own. It’s genuine. Real. Weirdly the fact that it’s that chaotic grounds him. Bruce is afraid too, Bruce isn’t unshakable or unbreakable, he gets scared too, his heart gets crazy too.

Upon feeling Jason calm down, Bruce calms down too, both their hearts slowing down enough so they can think more freely.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it more?” the oldest asks after a moment.

“Ye— no, I— I don’t think I can..?”

“Why?”

“I don’t… I don’t want to think about it,” he lets out anxiously.

Bruce takes a breath. “Okay. I won’t force you.”

That’s… that’s something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing. Harley, Dick and Barbara say it a lot to him, whenever he manages to say that he doesn’t want to do something, but it’s still words that shake him a lot and coming from Bruce it’s even worse. Not that it’s a bad feeling, it just makes him a bit overwhelmed, especially considering that Bruce was quite forceful about the subject of special cigarettes at first. “Thank you,” he utters weakly, feeling the need to. He doesn’t feel in danger right now, but he prefers staying polite anyway, instincts too deeply rooted in him to overlook even if he knows there’d be no consequences for his silence.

Bruce lightly squeezes him, does his best not to crush him with all the love he has for him. His face in Jason’s hair, he can smell his shampoo, vanilla unobstructed by the scent of nicotine. He doesn’t have any gel or spray in it, his hair is all natural, like his skin that doesn’t glisten, that isn’t glittery, like it used to be when he was a celebrity. Jason is comfortable in his real skin once more and Bruce gets to be there to see it, gets to hold him and feel his humanity he tried to hard to be rid of. He knows it’s not easy still, he knows his boy, his son, struggles a lot with personhood even now, but Jason lets himself be seen and touched as he is and that is more than Bruce ever thought would happen.

He used to think Jason would never get better. Not because he thought lowly of him, simply because he himself couldn’t imagine how things could stop hurting so badly. And now here they are, Jason in his own home, living despite it all, finding joy despite it all, and letting Bruce back in.

He sees now that he was wrong. That things can be mended after all. He wishes he had known earlier, maybe then he would’ve dared more and Jason would’ve suffered less. Yet he still gets to have this moment, even after every wrong thing he’s done, and a big part of him thinks he doesn’t deserve it but he can’t bear letting go. They both need this, and while he definitely could deprive himself of his own needs, he could never do it to Jason.

He ignores his guilt and keeps hanging on. He won’t make the same mistakes again, he won’t let go again. Never, ever again.

Chapter Text

The conversation around the table is lively, all looked over by Damian’s painting hanging on the wall. They don’t walk on eggshells around Jason anymore, at least they try not to, which brings him a lot of joy. He’s a lot less worried about perfection when he sees everyone at the table as family and not as guests he needs to impress. He’s still a bit nervous about things going well but he doesn’t have to force himself to swallow every bite, he actually gets to enjoy the food he made.

His smile is gleaming, his eyes sparkling with life.

Bruce asked if they could celebrate him. Jason asked what he had that could be celebrated and the reply was a simple and honest “everything.” Therefore today they simply celebrate it all without necessarily putting words to it. His home is decorated, everyone is dressed up including Sarah, and Bruce brought a cake.

Jason hasn’t eaten cake in over a decade, he’s a bit worried when it’s brought out, he very well knows Roman would never approve.

He asks if he can be the one to cut the cake, they let him, and so he starts to serve everyone.
They all request bigger parts once he positions the knife, which appeases his anxiety about his own part. Not one of them is afraid of coming across as gluttonous or impolite, they just want a lot of cake and there’s nothing wrong with that, so maybe it’s okay if he gives himself more than a crumb too.

He serves himself last, putting on his plate a thin slice. There isn’t a single comment passed about it, though most of them laugh when he grimaces after taking a bite.

“It’s really sweet,” he lets out after swallowing, nose scrunched up and lips pursed, a hand over his mouth.

“If you don’t like it I can run and get another one,” Bruce suggests.

“No, no, it’s good, I just… I’m not used to things this sweet, sorry.” He grabs his glass of water, takes a lot of small sips.

“Really I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure everything else will be just as sweet, it’s alright.”

Before Bruce keeps insisting, Harley gives him a look so he understands to stop. He is doing good with boundaries but his eagerness to make sure Jason enjoys everything can make him a bit insistent sometimes, as he’s just shown.
He catches it, stops himself. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jason replies with a gentle smile. With Harley he’s been working on stopping apologizing all the time and taking the blame for everything, he looks at her to make sure this is a moment he can avoid saying ‘sorry’ and bites his tongue when she smiles and nods at him. It’s hard, he feels bad, but he already said sorry and he knows it’s annoying when he keeps saying it. “I think I just have to get used to eating sugar again.” He takes another bite, grimaces again and washes it down with water.

“Don’t force yourself, Jay,” Barbara reminds him since obviously he’s not enjoying this. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I do want to, I want to enjoy this like everyone else.”

He gets so determined to like it that he stops worrying about the calories for a moment, but the more he eats the more he dislikes it. The only flavour he ever got in dishes were with fish or salads, never anything with sugar, it’s really overwhelming and he can’t bear it at all after a few bites.
He enviously watches his family eat the cake without worry or disgust, wishing he could fit in at least with this. It’s hard to be alienated in things that should be easy, he does his best to not let it get to him and use the tools Harley told him to use but it’s hard when it’s about a piece of cake. The fact that it should be insignificant is what makes it so difficult, even embarrassing.
The Red part of him should be glad he’s not tempted by cake, but the human part of him yearns so deeply to connect and find some ounce of normalcy that he gets crushed by this little thing.

But in the end he’s not the only one overwhelmed by the dessert, because Dick and Steph—who took the biggest parts—don’t manage to finish their pieces either. It appeases him a little. Not fully, but enough to stop staring at his plate with disdain.

Barbara quickly notices that his mood has changed, having gotten very used to the smallest shifts after having lived with him for a couple of years. She grabs his hand and smiles comfortingly at him, he lays his head over her shoulder which allows her to kiss the top of his head.

He closes his eyes and brings her hand to his cheek, presses it against himself with a soft exhale. After a few minutes of decompressing he manages to join back in the conversation, though he isn’t fully back in it until the table is cleared and they start playing some games.

He became quite good at uno, when they first started playing it he was offended that everyone would avoid making him draw any cards—especially when they piled up and everyone would add a plus card, whoever was at the turn before him would end it so it wouldn’t make it to him and they’d draw cards instead of him, even if they had a plus card they could’ve added—but when he voiced that feeling to Steph once, she told him to use it instead of protesting it. She said that’s what they’d all do in his place, and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of tricking people since they’re the ones choosing to sabotage themselves.

Jason’s preferred seating when playing uno is between Bruce and Dick, since they always take every hit for him and set him up for the win, and he acts like he doesn’t do it on purpose but he exchanges a little smirk with Steph as they settle and get distributed the cards.

He acts nervous when plus cards start to get piled up, and as always Bruce draws sixteen cards instead of adding his own plus four.
Jason holds back an amused smile, apologizes to Bruce innocently, and keeps playing.

“I know what you’re doing,” Damian says when Jason leaves the table briefly to take Sarah outside since she starts running around, having followed him.

“Hm?” Jason turns around to look at him.

“Whenever we play games, you use father and Dick to win.” He pauses briefly. “It’s a good strategy, though I’m surprised of your employing it.”

“O-Oh, I mean… it was suggested to me, I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Do you… do you think I should stop..?”

“No.” Damian smiles. “It’s amusing to see them sabotage themselves because they’re afraid of hurting your feelings.” It reminds him of the games they used to play on their mother’s men. It’s a nice memory.

Jason shyly returns his smile, the same memories coming to him. “You can join in if you want.”

“I’d like that.”

When they get back to the table, Jason requests another round of uno. This time he sits between Damian and Bruce, Dick bites his tongue and doesn’t complain despite wanting to.

During this round, Bruce and Damian silently battle each other, Damian purposefully targeting Jason and Bruce trying his best to take every blow. Eventually they stack reverse cards around Jason, until Damian gets the final word and causes Jason to draw a dozen cards. But before he can grab them, Damian makes an offer.

“My car was soiled by Ace and I do not want to clean it myself.”

“I’ll do it,” Dick quickly proposes.

Damian smiles. “Fine.” He takes back the plus card, instead puts a reverse one so the turn goes to Barbara instead of Jason.

The second the game finishes, Bruce requests a private audience with Damian, but Jason shyly requests that no one wanders off to argue especially over a game. Bruce assures him that isn’t why, insists on speaking to Damian apart from everyone. Damian refuses and Jason starts to feel bad so he goes with Bruce instead.

“I knew he was going to do that, we used to do things like that to Talia’s guards before. We were just messing around, I’m sorry, I didn’t think it’d make you this upset,” he explains sincerely once it’s the two of them.

Now it’s Bruce who feels bad, realizing he maybe just ruined something Jason has reconnected to, not only that but the fact that he managed to be lightheartedly mischievous, playing his own secret game with Damian… it’s an insane progress he never thought about before.

Upon being met with silence, Jason assumes he’s in trouble and so starts to explain himself more. “It wasn’t anything bad, and I didn’t think it was bad today either… we’d just— sometimes we’d just pretend to fight and injure each other to see who they thought was Talia’s favourite, y’know like who’d they first go to, or we’d pretend they caught us sneaking somewhere to see if they’d tell on us, but… it was stuff like that, nothing bad or serious, but— I’m sorry, we just wanted to play around again but it won’t happen again—“

“No, no, I’m sorry, Jay, I thought he was using you, but if you’re just playing together then don’t let me stop you, okay? I’m happy you’re doing this, I’m the one that’s sorry for having misread the situation.”

Jason tilts his head slightly to the side, confused. “I… really..? You’re not angry..?”

“No, on the contrary. I’m really happy you’re doing this, I promise.”

He considers him, eyes searching for the slightest ounce of dishonesty.

It still throws Bruce off a little bit, the intensity of his son’s gaze when he’s trying to figure out if he’s being lied to is something he needs to get used to. It’s undressing, like Jason activates a mode that allows him to look straight into his brain, and despite knowing he’s honest and wouldn’t lie to his son he worries that he’ll come across as dishonest and trigger fear in his boy or another bad thing that will set them back.

But as always, Jason sees nothing but truth and so allows himself to relax and believe him. Still, he flinches when Damian runs up to them, some instincts staying no matter how many times he’s proven that he won’t be hurt here.

“Come,” the youngest demands of his brother. “Stephanie is asking questions.” He grabs him by the wrist and starts to lead him away.

Jason smiles apologetically at Bruce and follows the tug on his arm, an excitement he hasn’t felt in a long time rushing through his veins.

When’s the last time he had an accomplice? Someone to play around with like that? It’s childish but he’s really excited about it, he hasn’t harmlessly schemed in more than a lifetime, it feels like, and Roman’s voice isn’t even screaming in his head for it.

As he walks with Damian, it seems they both get smaller, like they’re shedding the years and returning to a teen and a kid roaming the halls looking for things to do.

They get to Steph, go in a corner and inform her of the game, invite her to participate.

It’s how it should’ve been: Jason and Damian coming together in this family and making alliances with some siblings to torture the rest.

Excitement buzzes through Jason’s entire body. They haven’t even done anything yet but he’s so unused to this feeling that it overwhelms him entirely. He has a big smile on his face, sparks in his eyes, and isn’t being called stupid or juvenile for being excited over something small which only serves to expand his good mood.

With their alliance formed, they choose Tim as their next target. Stephanie keeps him distracted while Damian puts a keychain Cass made for Jason in his pocket, and then he gives Jason the signal.

“Has anyone seen my key for the lockbox?” he asks innocently after feigning looking around.

Quickly everyone helps him search, which he gets surprised by. Again, he’s so used to being dismissed or mocked for things like these, he was nervous about their reaction but instead of calling him dumb and messy and disorganized, they just start to look with him.

“It’s the one with the wooden cheetah,” he adds. “The one Cass made.”

With that knowledge, soon the keychain is recognized as it peaks out of Tim’s pocket, and once he’s made aware of it Tim frowns, takes it out, stammers for a moment. “I didn’t— I didn’t take it.” His eyes stop on everyone, he squints suspiciously when they land on Damian. “Did you—“ He stops. He doesn’t want to get angry, to get aggressive. He worked too hard to be on good terms with Jason, he can’t ruin it. So he takes a deep breath, turns back to Jason and gives him the key. “I didn’t steal it.”

“I know,” Jason replies with a playful smile, taking the key and causing Tim’s brows to furrow even more.

The three accomplices share a look before Jason goes to the lockbox and takes out Sarah’s favourite treats.
The second she recognizes the click she comes running, he crouches to her level, kisses her forehead and gives her a treat, then locks the box before she can try to dive in like she already has once or twice, and puts the key back to its original place.

An air of confusion floats around the room, yet not a question is asked while the celebrations continue. They do try to decode him for a bit but he doesn’t give anything away.

It’s fun to tease this way, to play coy in a manner that just serves to be fun and confusing, nothing else. He hasn’t felt like that in a long, long time.

𖤓

By the end of the day he is tired but happy, the party having went even better than he could’ve hoped. He says goodbye to his family, exchanges mischievous little smiles with his accomplices, all but Harley and Barbara who stay to help for the cleanup.

“I have some good prank ideas if you’re interested,” Harley says as they do the dishes. “We can workshop that someday.”

“Do you think it was too far..?”

“Not at all. It was funny, honestly I wasn’t sure it was that.”

“Was it a thing too, the bit in uno with Damian?” Barbara asks.

“I can’t confirm nor deny that,” he responds with a smile.

Once all is in order, they settle on the couch, him between them and Sarah on her own armchair next to them.

He grabs Harley’s hand as he lays his head over Barbara’s shoulder, looking at Sarah, and he realizes something.

A few years ago, everything seemed so hopeless. He was a raw nerve, away from his cat, living in an apartment that had locks over everything so he couldn’t kill himself. Most of his energy was spent crying and yearning, a single memory from his past with Roman felt like it had the power to kill him. At that time in his life he never thought he could ever get better—he didn’t even want that. All he wanted then was to put an end to his suffering, and he believed the only way to achieve that was to die. Never did he ever think that it would be the opposite; that keeping on living would be the real cure. Not that he’s always good and happy, nor has he stopped missing Roman, but days like these make every breath he regretted suddenly worth it.

Only now does he understand Bruce replying “everything” when he asked him what he had that was worth celebrating.

Life, despite all of its flaws and heartaches, is the most special occasion. And love, well love is what makes it special.

Here, there is no shortage of it. He is alive, he loves and is loved, and that is worth everything.