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The sound of steady water droplets echoed throughout the room. Jason was leaning his body against the sink, head ducked down as he tried to clear his head. His heart was inexplicably pounding in his rib cage as he relived the dream he had 5 minutes ago:
"Oh hey, why are you here?" Dream Jason cooed to a baby about 2 years old with his softer voice.
He had found the baby sitting down by the windowsill—now the place itself looked nothing like his apartment, judging from how bright the sunlight seeped through the dreamy white vitrage, but he knew he was at his own place.
After slowly making his way to the baby, he kneeled down to get to its level, "what are you doing here, big guy?"
The child was busy playing with the lightweight fabric, its golden hair reflected the light, its skin soft with subtle rosiness, and its eyes were in the same shade of blue as his. Although Dream Jason couldn’t tell if it was a girl or a boy.
With both of them still situated by the windowsill, Jason knew even in his subconscious the area was off-limits.
"Let’s play in my bedroom, yeah?" He grunted as he lifted it.
Moments later, they stepped foot inside the single bedroom, and Dream Jason carefully put the baby down to the bed.
He placed himself on the ground, sat down with his legs crossed, and rested his chin by the edge of the bed as he observed the baby. While scanning that innocent little face, a tiny bit of his consciousness wondered who it was, whose child it was, and why was it there. Jason had suspected that it was probably some poor kid he encountered years ago, but the baby itself didn't show any visible wounds, nor did it seem to be starving. It was as perfectly healthy as a child could be.
Dream Jason had his eyes glued on the baby as if it would be gone if he blinked. Then he softly put his fingers on its head, slowly stroking it. After awhile, it yawned. He chuckled lightly, "getting sleepy, huh? Off to the stars, love. I'll watch out for you. Won't go anywhere."
He couldn’t classify it as a nightmare—if the dream emitted a scent, if it were a color, it would have felt like home, which is the exact opposite of nightmare. But it scared Jason nonetheless.
Perhaps it's the fact that his usual dreams were always so violent, something he had done in real life where the ending was always his enemies going down. Perhaps it's the fact that he was accustomed to nightmares, the same recurring one about his death. Or perhaps he never expected his subconscious to make him experience a life so safe and so secure that it frightened him more than the eerie face of his dying enemies.
After a good few minutes of lost in his own thoughts, Jason pulled himself back together. He washed his face with the cold winter water then headed back to his room. He sat in the darkness watching the quiet dawn, surrendering to insomnia.
One night later, and Jason caught himself in the same situation.
This time, he was playing hide and seek with a boy, slightly bigger than the previous one. The kid was dressed in an emerald green t-shirt under denim overalls. The gleeful sound of a child giggling filled the space and triggered warmth in a spot deep inside Jason's mind.
This time too, he didn't know who the boy was and why he was there. But Dream Jason shrugged it off. He chose to enjoy the happiness and the sheer beauty of letting himself live.
He caught the kid eventually, playfully swinging him around in his arms as more joyful giggles exploded. As Dream Jason kissed the boy's cheek, he muttered, "thank you, Jason."
This time, it made Jason's heart pounding harder after waking up with ragged breathing.
One day later, Jason was standing on a rooftop, ready to bust a crime leader who organized a trafficking operation underground. He had gathered intels, mapped the spots he needed to avoid and to strike, and laid out the evacuation route and exit plan—everything is some kind of a muscle memory, really.
He blended with the night, quietly spying on the shitbag. And when the target was a few steps towards the bull's eye, Jason swung down, setting his plan in motion. Of course, he was instantly greeted with violence—thugs were shooting him down, but Jason was more than happy to take them out easily. After he ensured that the coast was clear, he planted a few of his hot bullets into the culprit's sternum and rushed to a parked truck just before the driver could escape.
The driver suffered the same fate as his boss, but was quick to succumb to his injury. Jason paid no mind to him as he busted the lock open to free the victims.
How he was surprised once it was all revealed—his intels only told him that there were about 6 unfortunate boys, the kind like who he was before Bruce took him under his care. All arranged to be "shipped" to Cambodia. What they didn't tell him was that they were all aged under 7.
"You're all safe, come on out," but the kids were beyond frightened seeing Jason in his red mask. Not one of them moved an inch, if anything, they curled in fear. ”Come on guys, you're not safe here!" Jason desperately plead, to no avail.
Fuck it.
"You all can trust me." He said as he removed his mask, baring his face to the kids. He waved his hand to signal them to come out and thankfully, they did.
As the last kid was hopping down the vehicle, a thud on the ground was heard, and Jason was quick to aim his guns to the source of the sound.
"Whoa, whoa, it's me!"
"Dick?" Jason let out an exasperated sigh. "Fuck, thought you were someone else."
"Sorry. Why the bare face?" Dick gestured his hand around his own head to emphasize what he meant.
"The kids wouldn't move, figured they might've been scared seeing someone dressed like a killer."
Dick scoffed lightly, "right. I'll take it from here though, great job."
"Thanks, man," Jason patted Dick's shoulder before putting the mask on again, "hey, I got a question."
"Shoot."
Jason gnawed on his words for awhile, "you ever had a dream where there was a kid in it?”
The other man just hummed in affirmation as he tried to direct the kids to safety while they wait for GCPD to arrive. "What about it?"
"Nah, I got a few dreams of it, felt strange though.”
"Don't be. A good friend of mine from the circus ever told me that if a kid visited you in your dreams—well, they're actually spirits of children, coming down to earth to feel the love they didn't get to feel. So in a sense, they came to you for that." There was a certain softness in Dick's gaze.
A sound of loud scowl escaped through Jason's mouth, "me? Of all people?" A beat. "You believe that?"
Now it was Dick's turn to pat Jason's shoulder, without saying any word, before he walked away with the kids since the authorities had arrived.
Babies. Watch my spot for me, will ya?