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Jason didn’t like the escape room. It was set up to look like the inside of a warehouse. A timer with bright red numbers hung above the door, counting down the minutes until their time in the room was over. He wondered if the place intentionally left the floor dusty to add to the warehouse look, or if the thin layer of dirt was due to a poor cleaning crew.
As soon as the lock had engaged, Dick had set to work on the word puzzle by the door. It’d been on a small 3X5 index card and stuffed in an envelope with a big number 1 on its side. Jason had merely stood still for a moment as he adjusted to the room’s theme.
It wasn’t that he was scared of warehouses. No, he’d ventured into many before and taken out the criminals hiding in them. What was getting to Jason was that those bright red numbers, paired with the fake crates stacked around the room, reminded him of a specific warehouse. The warehouse he’d died in.
He’d be fine. He knew he would. Along with pit madness, he sometimes experienced flashbacks. He’d learned years ago that he needed to brush off the memories as quick as they came. With a roll of his shoulders he let the past fall away and stepped further into the room.
Dick had already solved the first puzzle, which lead him to a crate, when Jason approached him. The golden boy was knelt, staring at a set of pictures carved into the side of the crate.
“What do you think this means, Jaybird?” Dick encouraged the second bird to join in on the puzzle solving.
Jason only sparred the pictures a glance before rolling his eyes. The pictures were a sequence of a bat, a man, and a green painted question mark. He’d hate to tell Tim –or to hear what Damian was telling him in the other escape room –but maybe the bat from hell was right. Not even five minutes had passed since he and Dick were locked in the room and they were already onto their third puzzle. Or they would be if Jason would answer the cerulean eyes gazing up at him.
There was desperation in those eyes and Jason knew that Dick must have already solved the puzzle. The older bird was just grasping at straws to get Jason to interact with him. It’d been like that for two days. Ever since Jason had told him that they were brothers and nothing more.
If Dick wasn’t staring awkwardly at the ground then he was taking every little opportunity he could just to get Jason to talk to him…and Jason knew it…and he didn’t like it. It felt like he was surrounded by glass and Dick was trying to sneak through it barefoot, trying to inch himself closer to the other bird without just grabbing a pair of shoes and marching right up to him.
“It’s Batman and Riddler,” Jason finally spoke and he watched as Dick’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
“Right,” Dick breathed. “But what does it mean? The last puzzle pointed to this crate but where does the crate point to?”
Jason raised a brow. He seriously hoped he was right and Goldie was only acting dumb, because if he seriously hadn’t spotted the array of newspaper clippings on the far wall –covered in green question marks –then something was seriously wrong with him.
The red bird nodded towards the newspapers. “How about try looking over there, Dickhead?”
“Hehe, right,” Dick rubbed at his neck for a second before standing from his knelt position and moving towards the newspapers.
Jason hung back, just behind the other man, as Dick’s eyes scanned over the clippings.
“There!” Dick exclaimed and pointed at a clipping near the ceiling. The headline read, ‘Batman Hits the Books,” and was accompanied by a picture of Batman battling the Riddler in Gotham Library. Some of the article’s words were highlighted green, but the article was too high up for the duo to see what the words were.
“Hold this steady?” Dick requested and Jason watched as he reached up to grab the newspaper clipping off the wall. He reached up with his left hand, his right helping him keep his balance by resting on the wall. His eyes crinkled, his mouth twisted into a grimace.
Jason watched as Dick momentarily drew his left arm back down slightly before reaching up again. He didn’t reach the clipping, which should have been accessible to him had he managed to get his arm raised all the way.
Dick caught him staring and probably noticed the crease in his brow. The blue bird gave a forced laugh and switched arms so he was now supporting himself with his left hand and reaching up with his right.
“I must have slept wrong last night,” Dick tried to brush the event off. “Got a crick in my shoulder.”
Jason’s frown deepened. Dick was lying. He could always tell when Dick was lying.
“You can barely raise your left arm above your shoulder,” Jason stated flatly. “That’s not just a crick.”
Dick shrugged and swiped the newspaper clipping off the wall.
“It’s nothing, Little Wing,” the blue bird tried to assure as he jumped from the ladder and landed gracefully beside Jason.
“Like hell its nothing,” Jason argued. “Last night B called you a liability. Timmy was following you around like you were his baby chick. Your shoulder’s the reason, isn’t it?”
Dick’s face hardened into an impassive slate. “I said it’s nothing. Just drop it and let’s figure out this puzzle.”
“Fuck that shit! It ain’t nothing if B’s wishing I was out on patrol instead of you. What the hell happened?”
Dick sighed heavily. “You know what happened.”
Jason’s brow furrowed, “What…”
“It’s not that hard to figure out. It’s even easier than these puzzles,” Dick was staring down at the news clipping, refusing to look at Jason. “It happened right before you disappeared.”
Jason froze as the sound of a gunshot rang through his skull. He’d spent weeks beating himself up over that night. He’d spent months checking the news for any evidence that Nightwing had survived.
Initially, after he’d come down from his episode of pit madness, he’d been proud of himself that he hadn’t shot Dick any place more crucial. Getting shot in the shoulder hurt like a bitch, but it was a hell of a lot better than taking a bullet to the heart or head. Still, he’d shot him in the left shoulder...in the same shoulder a thug had shot Dick only weeks before. He’d ripped open a still healing wound.
A wave of guilt washed over Jason as the weight of Dick’s words settled on him. Sure, he hadn’t killed Dick, but that didn’t change the fact that it’d been his bullet that’d lead to Dick’s current circumstance.
The second robin swallowed hard. A lump had formed in his throat. The guilt that’d settled in his stomach had begun to twist as anger gnawed at him.
He was angry at himself for having shot Dick in the first place…
…He was angry at Tim for not telling him how bad off Nightwing really was…
…He was angry at Bruce for letting Dick out on patrol…
…He was angry at Alfred for letting Bruce put Nightwing on patrol…
…He was angry at Damian for not ripping into him for hurting Grayson the moment he’d arrived back at the manor…
…but, most of all, he was angry that he had to wait until now to find out that he was the reason Nightwing was a liability. Dick should have been able to tell him. When they’d spoken the first time about Dick’s required sabbatical from the police force –which Jason was now more than sure he caused –Dick should have felt like he could tell Jason the truth about it.
“It’s my fault,” Jason breathed as he took an unconscious step away from Dick.
He’d hurt Dick before when under the influence of the pit. He’d given him bruises, cuts, and a concussion. He’d threatened to shoot him or stab him several times, but he’d never actually gone through with it until that night half a year ago. It looked like one slip up was all it took, though. One night was all it took for the Red Hood to completely ruin Nightwing’s life.
“No,” Dick had dropped the clipping on top of a nearby crate. “No, Jay, it’s not. It’s my fault.”
Jason was shaking his head as two warm, tanned hands found their way to his cheeks.
“I could have killed you. I fucking shot you! How’s that not my fault?” Jason roughly removed Dick’s hands from his face. He couldn’t bring himself to drop those hands, however. It was the first time he’d touched Dick since coming back to Gotham and having his soft flesh beneath his own was comforting. He was being greedy. He should let Dick go and move on. Walk away from the conversation. Finish the puzzles. Get out of the room. He couldn’t, though, because as much as he wanted to push Dick away he wanted to pull him closer even more.
He wanted to fall to his knees and beg to be forgiven. To find the Flash and demand that he find a way to take him back in time so he could fix his fucking mistake.
“Jason,” Dick gripped Jason’s hands as tightly as the other man was gripping his, “this is why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d blame yourself. It’s not your fault. Not entirely. Yes, you shot me, but I pushed you to it. I knew you were suffering from pit madness when I went after you. Roy had warned me, but I still pursued you. I knew you’d be angry when I interrupted your interrogation. I knew I’d have you feeling like a cornered animal. But I had to go after you. You hadn’t been answering my calls and I needed to talk to you. I kept seeing your pained expression when you found me with Rose. I wanted to fix everything….” Dick broke off for a second to steady his voice. “I wanted to fix everything so fucking much that I went after you even though I knew you weren’t in your right mind. I put myself in your way, knowing you were in a state where you were more an exposed nerve than the man I’d fallen in love with.”
“How many times has Bruce told you that the pit’s lingering effects aren’t an excuse for my behavior?” Jason questioned. This time he really did let go of Dick’s hands.
“He’s wrong.”
“I use to think that,” Jason’s chuckle was without humor. “It was easy to justify the little bruises and scrapes I gave you when my eyes were Lazarus green. Bruises and scrapes are nothing compared to a gunshot wound. I used to tell myself that you could take it. That the little injuries I gave you didn’t matter because you’d dealt with worse and it wasn’t like I was doing anything fatal. Even in my pit induced state I’d always think, ‘This is Dick. You can’t hurt him.’ That night….that night, Dickie…That night I wasn’t thinking I couldn’t hurt you at all. You want to know what went through my brain right before I shot you?”
“What?” Dick’s voice wavered with false confidence.
“That you were in my fucking way.”
Dick shook his head. “It doesn’t…it doesn’t mater. You weren't prepared for an attack that strong. You hadn’t been that far under the Lazarus’s effects since you first showed back up in Gotham. It was too strong of an episode for you to battle. The hand that was holding your gun might have been yours, Jay, but I was looking into your eyes when your finger pulled the trigger and what I saw was green. You weren’t there, behind your eyes. Only the pit. It wasn’t you that shot me. It was the pit.”
“No,” Jason shook his head. He pivoted violently on his feet, going back to the wall of news clippings. He pulled three off the wall and tossed them at Dick’s feet. “It was me! The Red Hood…the Pit…Jason Todd…they’re all me. You can’t separate them anymore.”
Dick stepped over the articles about kills the Red Hood had made and reached out a hand for Jason. “I can separate them because I know you better than the media or Bruce ever could. And even if the lines between your identities are blurred, it doesn’t matter. That’s what happens when you fall in love, Little Wing. You accept the person, flaws and all. I love you. Every part of you. It’s why I didn’t want to tell you about why I’m leaving the Police force. I love you so much that I don’t want you to blame yourself.”
Jason leaned against a stack of crates, leaving Dick’s outstretched arms empty. He didn’t say anything for a while. He only stared at Dick, watching as the older bird’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. Watching how Dick slowly lowered his arms and folded them around himself.
“I love you, Jay,” Dick sighed. “And whether or not you think my shoulder is your fault or not, I’m never going to blame you for it. It’s not your fault that I went out on patrol before fully healing and it’s not your fault that it probably lead to why my shoulder never healed properly. The Police Force…that was a long time coming. I was slipping at work. Falling asleep in the patrol car and half-assing my case reports. Gordon just used my shoulder as an excuse to get rid of me without telling me that I was being a sucky cop.”
Jason let out a slow breath. Both he and Dick were silent for a while before he stated, “We’re a pretty fucked up pair.”
Dick gave a laugh and for the first time in months it was actually a real one. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
“You know,” Jason reached into his jacket and withdrew his mostly empty pack of cigarettes. He pulled the last one out of the carton and lit it with his red lighter. He took a moment to take a deep drag from the stick before continuing his thought. “You know, the first time I told you that I loved you I had hoped you’d take my words wrong and think I meant as a brother. I never saw you as a brother though. I knew the moment I met you that you were someone that I wanted to spend the rest of my life avoiding.”
Dick snorted. “Avoiding?”
“Yeah, because love gets you nowhere and I fell in love with you the moment I saw your baby blues.”
Dick hummed. “I thought you were annoying when we first met. Remember how I kept pushing you away?”
“Yeah?” Jason took another drag from his cigarette.
“It was a lie. When you died, it hurt.”
“Coming back wasn’t a joyride either,” the younger man joked.
Dick cracked a smile…a real one.
“You said you never saw me as a brother,” Dick continued after another few moments of silence. There was a soft, comfortable element to the air around them. Like their blowout over Dick’s shoulder was the storm they needed to move on. “Maybe that’s because we were never meant to be brothers. I can’t be your brother, Jason. These last two days…I’ve tried. I’ve tried really fucking hard, but I can’t do it. Every time I see you, I want to kiss you. I want to hold you and be held by you. I want to cuddle up on the couch and critique lousy movies with you. I want what we had before I ruined it. I can’t ask you to forgive me, I don’t deserve it, and I understand why you don’t want to go back to being us, but I…”
“I never said that I didn’t want it,” Jason interrupted. “And I told you…I already forgave you for Rose.”
“Do you want it?” Dick questioned hesitantly. “Because, if you don’t, that’s alright. I can’t be your brother, but maybe I can be your friend. I just want to be able to talk to you without pretending to be something we aren’t.”
“Dickie,” his name was a breath coming from Jason’s lips. “I do want it. I want us, but we broke each other. I’m already a mess. The last year is proof that there’s something really fucking wrong with me.”
“Its proof that there’s something wrong with both of us, but we did better when we were together then when we were apart.”
“You seriously want to start this again, don’t you?” Jason scoffed. “I don’t know if that makes you suicidal or insane. Maybe both.”
“Maybe it just makes me hopeful. We can learn from our mistakes.”
“You always have been the more optimistic one.”
“I’m told its part of my charm.”
“Most of the time. Sometimes it can get real fucking annoying.”
Dick's face dropped.
“Not right now,” Jason corrected. “Just sometimes.”
“So, what do you say, Jaybird? Are we us again?”
The red bird took a long drag from his cigarette. He held the stick in front of him, watching the glowing tip and the smoke that he blew out of his mouth. There was a chance he was going to regret his next words, but he might regret it more if he never said them.
“Yeah. I guess we are.”
Dick full out grinned and Jason found himself with the other man’s arms wrapped around his neck. He about dropped his cigarette from surprise when Dick launched himself at him.
“Jaybird,” Dick breathed into his neck and Jason shivered at the feeling of the older bird's breath ghosting across his skin. “Thank you. I swear I’ll never screw up like that again. I love you.”
Jason didn’t return the sentiment. He still loved Dick but he’d admitted to his feelings long ago and they went almost a year without being returned. Up until that day, Dick hadn’t told him that he’d loved him at all and despite Jason feeling the same way, he couldn’t bring himself to say those word aloud. It’d take him sometime. He needed to get used to being with Dick again. This time they’d do it right though.
“Just so we’re clear,” Jason spoke up but not with the three words Dick wanted to hear, “So we don’t fuck this up again, we’re in a closed, official relationship.”
Dick pulled away from Jason to nod. “Yeah. We are.”
“Good.”
“Good,” Dick agreed.
The two stood there for a few moments, with Jason half holding Dick, before Jason caught the numbers on the timer above the door. Their time was out. He glanced at his watch and realized that they’d been in the room for nearly forty-five minutes. Yet, there’d been no sound indicating that the door had unlocked and the woman from earlier hadn’t come to remove them from the room.
“Well, fuck,” Jason wrapped an arm around Dick tighter so he could puff on his cigarette again.
“What?” the blue bird inquired.
“We’re out of time.”
Dick pulled away from Jason to look at the clock. “Hehe, I guess we are. Looks like we’re buying Timmy and Dami hot chocolate.”
“Fuck that,” Jason laughed. “Those little shitheads cheated.”
Dick raised a brow.
“Oh, come on Dickie. We’ve been in here for almost an hour. You can’t tell me the lovely owners of this place wouldn’t have come to chase us out by now.”
“Damn it,” Dick cursed and then laughed. “We’ve been set up.”
“We’ve been set up,” Jason agreed and then louder, for he knew that Tim had to have managed to hack into the building's sound system as well as their locks, said, “Okay Timmy, we’ve made up. You can let us out now.”
“Awe, but it’s so cute watching you two be all lovey dovy,” Tim’s voice cracked through the sound system.
“Actually, I find it to be quite sickening,” Damian added his two cents.
“Fuck off, demonspawn!” Jason stated.
“Open the door, Tim,” Dick requested.
There was an audible click as the lock on the door disengaged.
Jason slipped his arm around Dick’s shoulders as they approached the door. He guessed there were worse ways this outing could have ended. Being with Dick again was going to be different and there was still a lot they needed to talk about, not to mention trust would have to be earned back, but for now all that mattered was that he once again had Dick in his arms.
“Come on, you two,” Dick instructed as they passed by Tim and Damian at the front counter. “Hot chocolate’s on us.”