Work Text:
Considering that Bruce was ruler of the dead and Dick was death incarnate, Jason had honestly expected Bruce to send Dick after him sooner.
He couldn’t tell how long it had been; time didn’t mean much down here, but he had been clawing his way out of Hell ever since he heard the news.
Bruce wasn’t his birth father, and somewhere out there, he still had a mother. She was half-human, that much he knew. Whether he’d ever find her, or if she’d even want to be found, was another question entirely.
He’d tried to escape countless times. Every attempt ended the same: death, and then the slow, burning drag back to Bruce’s House. Each return forced him to face that same unyielding expression, carved in stone, and it only deepened his need to leave.
Still, he left behind people he cared about. Alfred was always at Bruce’s side but quietly slipping Jason the help he needed when he could. Damian, Bruce’s true son, was still very young at the time, always following Jason around and idolizing him. Jason couldn’t bear that sad little face each time he rose from the waters, newly dead again.
And then there was Tim, always waiting when he returned, always ready with some wry comment or surprisingly useful piece of advice. Jason met it, of course, with biting sarcasm, but every time he made it back to the surface, he found himself actually trying one of Tim’s suggestions, usually involving stabbing something in the eye.
But back to Dick. Everything always came back to Dick, of course. He was Bruce’s favorite, excellent at his job, seemingly never wrong, and admired by everyone. Great at his job and easy to be around. In the House of Hades, that was hard to come by. It wasn’t just that everyone admired him; there was something almost otherworldly about him, beautiful in a way that made the heart catch.
When Jason heard the toll that told him Dick had arrived in Elysium, he froze. Twin blades in his hands, Dick looked ready for a fight, and yet Jason found himself caught off guard by how stunning he was in the soft glow of Elysium. He should have been more worried about the fight than how beautiful Dick looked.
Jason took a careful step forward, eyes locked on the twin blades. Every instinct screamed to attack, to run, to test himself against the death incarnate before him. And yet, something about the way Dick moved — the calm precision in his stance — made Jason pause.
Dick’s gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t smirk or sneer, didn’t offer any reassurance. He just watched, like the inevitable shadow waiting at the edge of the light. Jason’s chest tightened. He should be afraid. He should be angry. Instead, his heart betrayed him, skipping at the faint curve of Dick’s lips, the soft glow of his eyes in Elysium’s light.
“You weren’t supposed to get this far,” Dick said, voice even, carrying the weight of inevitability.
Jason grinned, sharp and defiant. “And you weren’t supposed to look like that while holding a weapon at me.”
Dick rolled his eyes, the gesture familiar and exasperating, like he always did when Jason ran his mouth. Jason smirked back, but then the reality of why Dick was here hit him. Dick mimicked his expression, shoulders suddenly tense. His weapon was still in his hands.
“You are here to drag me back, aren’t you?” Jason said, grabbing his sword, ready to deflect whatever Dick threw at him. “Always following Bruce’s orders.”
Dick’s frown turned to anger, eyebrows drawing together. “Is that really what you think of me, Jay?”
Suddenly, the shades his father had sent to stop him began to close in around them. Dick’s anger flickered playful, and with a flash of his twin blades, he went straight into the fight. Shades surged from the shadows, writhing toward them like smoke made solid. Jason swung his sword instinctively, slicing through one, then another. Sparks of blue energy scattered where steel met ghostly form.
Dick moved beside him, twin blades flashing with a fluid grace that made Jason’s chest ache in a way he didn’t want to admit. Every strike Dick made was precise, deliberate, a shadow striking at the exact moment it was needed. Jason could match his pace, but he couldn’t match the inevitability behind each movement.
“You’re slower than I expected,” Dick said, his voice calm but threaded with amusement. “I thought you’d at least try to make this interesting.”
“Slow? Me?” Jason ducked under a swipe, rolling to land behind Dick, sword poised. “I’m a blur. You’re just… terrifyingly perfect.”
Dick didn’t look back. His twin blades sliced a path between Jason and a cluster of shades, their ethereal forms collapsing under his control. “Perfect, huh? Maybe I just don’t like letting people get away.”
Jason’s grin faltered, just for a moment, as he watched Dick’s expression that unreadable, impossible calm, the faint curve of lips that hinted at something… more. Dick was more upset than he thought he would be. They were suddenly alone again, the last of his shades taken out by Dick.
Jason swung, barely deflecting a blade Dick had flicked toward him, and had to take a step back, heart racing. Fighting Dick was one thing. However, Dick's upset was something else. They both knew that Dick could easily take him out.
“You know,” Jason said, breathing hard, “for someone whose entire job is death incarnate, you really aren’t all doom and gloom.”
Dick’s eyes flicked to him, a brief spark of something teasing. “I think you have enough doom and gloom for the both of us.” He suddenly puts his weapons away, sighing. “You didn’t even say goodbye. Did you even think of me?”
“I have done nothing but think of you.” It was too honest, but the look in Dick’s eyes made him desperate to reassure him. “I was hoping when you did come home, and see me gone, that you would understand. That I could not keep living this lie.”
“But it’s where you belong. You belong with us; we are a family.” Dick’s eyes are suddenly filled with so much pain that Jason has to take a step back.
“We are not family. If you are not here to kill me and force me back, why are you here then?” Jason was suddenly filled with anger, because if there was one thing he knew, it was that they were not family.
He had never felt anything like family to Dick.
Dick’s voice was barely more than a breath. “I told myself I wouldn’t come after you,” he said, eyes tracing Jason’s face like it was the only thing left alive down here. “But you never make it easy, do you? I should’ve let you go… but I never could.”
Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and Dick was gone.
Jason didn’t survive the next fight; his mind was too focused on Dick. It took him longer to drag himself out of the pool of Styx. Tim chirped from a distance, in a half-mocking voice.
“I’d tell you to be more careful, but clearly death’s the only one keeping up with you.”