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The white Ford truck hit the barrier at 6:07 pm.
Jason received the call from Mercy General at 11:23 pm, right as he was settling in for the night.
Really, what an offensive time to be calling him. He nearly didn’t pick up the phone, especially as he saw it was an unrecognized number flashing on the screen. The last thing he needed was some Karen with no sense of boundaries wanting to bitch about the work done on her Prius, or some loud and annoying spam call to ruin the soft relaxing end to his day. Tomorrow was Jason’s day off, and he was determined to actually enjoy it - his shop was in good hands, he had a new book he’d been excited to get the jump at, a big bathtub with candles and his favourite chocolates calling his name. Now that was something he was willing to answer.
So it was with the grace of his deep, deep, heart that Jason sighed, set aside the freshly made cup of tea on his bedside table and pressed answer.
“Yeah? What’s up-”
“Is this Mr. Jason Todd?”
A stranger’s voice, but that was what Jason expected. “Speaking. Who’s this?”
“Hi, Mr. Todd. I’m calling from Mercy General Hospital. You’re listed as the emergency contact for a Richard Grayson. Mr. Grayson was brought in with severe injur-”
Saliva caught in Jason’s throat, half-choking him and cutting off the hasty inhale. The nurse on the phone continued speaking to no avail - Jason stopped listening after she said that damned, damned, name.
Mr. Grayson.
Dick.
“-commended you arriv-”
Cutting the nurse off, Jason barked into the phone, "You said Mercy? I’ll be there in an hour.” If there was a reply, Jason didn’t hear before he hung up, already grabbing his boots and jacket. Suddenly it didn’t matter that it was below zero outside, that he’d spent the commute home cursing every driver for not knowing how to drive in the few centimeters of snow they managed to get, that he was in his ratty sweats that never left his house. Keys in hand Jason luckily remembered to at least lock his front door before bolting to his car.
Because even more than anything else, it did not matter that he hadn’t heard Dick’s name in years. Hadn’t spoken to him in longer.
(Thought about him every day.)
There had to be some kind of sick sense of irony that over 9 years after he signed the divorce papers, all it took was one single phone call and Jason was rushing right back to Dick’s side.
“So that’s it. That’s all you have to say to me.”
Anger didn’t even begin to describe the screeching, clawing thing inside of Jason. The beast that turned feral at one wrong touch, growing and growing until raised hackles and bared teeth were the least of his worries. But Jason wasn’t facing off with another predator, an enemy, or even an unknown.
He glared across the ravaged street at Dick, his husband.
Fires were scattered throughout the wreckage. Overturned and shattered cars, windows of businesses turned into jagged pieces, a toppled streetlight, debris everywhere. Up above, search lights from helicopters swung through the scene, bathing the two of them in blinding holy light then a split second later dousing them back into the sobering night. Jason readjusted the grip on his gun without his hand shaking. It felt odd to have pride in his steadiness at this moment. A moment that had him facing off with a bloodied, bruised Nightwing. For the first time in a long time, the brewing hostility in their stances was real.
“What else is there. You stated your piece, and you know where I stand. I don’t see another option.” Dick’s voice stayed firm, steady, unmoving. Dead. Like any emotion had been sucked out the second Jason pulled the trigger. The fact that the trigger hadn’t been the one on his gun wasn’t the point.
All it took was four measly words.
“You’re just like him.”
And the war began.
Truth was, Jason didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean the words as they left his mouth, didn’t mean it when he called Dick out for keeping impossible standards, wasn’t trying to accuse Dick of sabotaging him so everything became Jason’s fault. Twisted Jason into the evil Dick seemed to treat him as. Fuck inevitability, fuck destiny, they were supposed to be living proof that they could break from the molds people expected of them. It wasn’t enough, it’d never be enough - or so Jason yelled at Dick. Watched as each layer of blame settled on Dick until he became cold and stiff; the only sign he was present was found in his eyes: a burning inferno ready to snap up the nearest target. Jason.
They were hurt. They were stupid.
Words were flung that were never supposed to exist. Fears that had no foundation. Old worries swept up into fury until Jason didn’t even know what he saying. He just knew he was hurting Dick.
That was his goal. Hit where it hurt.
Believe that Dick hit back just as hard.
The rings on their fingers only added to the ammunition. Knowing each other as deeply as a decade-long romantic relationship (on top of a longer platonic, though not always positive, one) only meant they also knew where to aim each barbed word. Dick attacked Jason’s insecurities with stunning precision. Jason severed any sense of heartfelt connection with people Dick had. Weird how outside resentments could simmer for so long without dying, despite being starved, dehydrated, and hunted by their attempts to heal each other through love.
“I’m done. The sight of you disgusts me. Fuck the fuck off until I never have to see you again.”
“Oh I promise, the only time you’d ever be in the same room as me again would be against my will. At least I kept my vows,” Dick spit out. He didn’t move, and Jason knew he wouldn’t. Dick was staking his place in the ground just as Jason was abandoning it.
So he ran. Slipped away into the lingering smoke before the clean-up crew could arrive.
He had Dick’s blood to wash off of his hands and face. Several hours and kilometers removed from their disastrous end, Jason watched as the last remnants of his heart trickled down the drain. The water ran red, then pink, then clear. At least tears blended in with the weak pressure of the showerhead, as silent as they were. And if Jason kept himself from blinking for as long as he could, hoping to see a tinge of pink reappear as some kind of proof that all was not lost, then there was no one around to know. No one witnessed the death of his hope.
His love stayed the same.
A few weeks later, divorce papers arrived at his doorstep.
Jason signed them.
What else was he supposed to do?
He gave up sitting on the waiting room chairs almost immediately. The cushions were soft, and the back actually supported his aching spine, with armrests at the perfect height to rest his elbows on. Even the width of the seat was big enough for Jason’s hips and thighs to be comfortably spread on, his feet extended out in front of him. In any other place he’d enjoy the good furniture design. Hell, somewhere in his mind he made a note to ask where they got them from, thinking it might be a nice addition to the waiting area of his mechanic’s shop. Maybe his customers would be less bitchy about having to wait then.
But those words kept puncturing through every reasonable thought Jason tried to have. There was no escaping what happened.
An old bridge, a speeding vehicle, hazy conditions.
A good Samaritan.
Three battered cars piled at the curve after they lost control, and despite the various pieces littering the snowy lanes, the actual damage was quite minimal to the drivers and passengers. Something that Dick must have determined as he went car to car checking on each person for injuries, his phone held between shoulder and ear, his voice clear and firm as he responded to every question from the 911 operator while comforting the panicked people. His hand was warm on their shoulders as he reassured them that everything was OK, and that emergency services would be there in due time. Of course, thanks to the weather, there was going to be a delay.
And of course Dick was walking back to where he’d parked his own car to grab the Batman themed Band-Aids he kept in his glove compartment, when a white Ford truck lost traction on the ice and slammed into Dick. Then hit the barrier, together.
“…severe hypothermia from being submerged in the water… unresponsive to initial attempts at CPR… several ribs broken, possible spinal injury… fractured skull… internal bleeding… coded on the table…”
Jason paced back and forth. It’d taken him 2 hours to reach the small hospital despite his urgency. Even so, Dick was still in surgery when he arrived, and it was only thanks to the stern charge nurse putting her foot down that Jason was able to stop his spiraling mind for long enough to hear the important information.
The first thing he could choke out among the whirlpool of things to be pissed off about was how it took so damn long for them to call him.
Nurse Evans pushed him down into the waiting room chair. Her graying blonde hair slicked back into a tight bun showed she meant business, but her gentle tone proved her business was caring for other people - something Jason needed a little of. “The ice covering the river was too thin for the trucks to get close to where they went in. That’s a good thing,” she said, squeezing Jason’s shoulder until he looked up at her, his shaking knee stilled. “That means he didn’t receive any more severe injuries from breaking through the ice. Plus, he broke through on his own when he dragged the driver up out of the water. Rescuers got there as quickly as they safely could.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jason was sure he could see one of the EMS staff being treated by another nurse. She was shivering, her hair almost dry, towels swaddling her. Dark eyes kept flickering in Jason’s direction and he could tell she would have something to say. Something that would further grate on his fragile nerves.
There would be at least another hour before they could allow Jason to see Dick.
He was grateful that Nurse Evans allowed him to keep his nervous pacing in the otherwise empty room. Everyone else had already been cleared to go home hours earlier, their injuries more immediately treatable, even the driver of the truck that Dick had fished out before losing consciousness and slipping back into the water.
Around the room, posters informing folks of the symptoms of various diseases gave an attempt to put colour on the cream walls. Old magazines scattered on one of the side tables, a few children’s toys in a bin next to it. A vase of fresh flowers sat on the nurse’s station where Nurse Evans and her co-worker sat, typing away on soft keys. Overhead the lights tinged the room in a nauseatingly light teal. No matter how many times Jason had been in hospitals or medical bays in his past, the purgatory of waiting never lessened. Any sense of gratitude that the visits had slowed in the past year was swiftly killed by this one, wretched, instance. All the patience Jason had grown into as he reached his 40s was vaporizing the longer he stared at the fake smiling face on those damn posters.
Fuck it. It was some stupid hour of the night that wasn’t worth remembering, and Jason had enough of unspoken words.
Stalking over to the other side, Jason walked right up to the EMS woman sitting in the furthest chair possible.
“You’re the one who pulled him out.”
She gulped. Maybe from the fear at Jason’s deep, accusatory tone, maybe from the memories of all the horrors she’s seen in this world. Her mouth opened, then closed. Jason respected her solid gaze while she gathered her courage and spoke.
“Yes. And,” she paused, long enough that she should’ve blinked but didn’t. Not like Jason could be any more unnerved than he already was. “He asked if I was the one he told his… ‘last words’ to. I think they were for… you.”
The only sign that Jason’s knees hit the floor was the fact that he now had to tilt his chin up to keep that all-too-important eye contact.
He wanted to know. He didn’t want to know. Would it be about him?- No, it’s been a decade, Dick wouldn’t think of him while dying- you’re here. You’re his emergency contact.
You shouldn’t be anymore. He should’ve changed it, years ago.
Why didn’t he?
“What…” Jason couldn’t finish the question.
“He said-” she grabbed one of Jason’s hands, squeezing tight as she leaned in- “ ‘Tell Jason I’m sorry. I love him. I forgive him, and-’ ” Choking, her chest stuttered on the final words. “ ‘-please beg him to forgive me one last time.’ ”
Jason’s mind went blank again. He picked up on her reassurances that Dick was going to be OK, that she knew the doctors here and that he was in safe hands. That Dick might have lost consciousness in that ambulance after he finished speaking, but he’d be able to wake up in a warm hospital bed with his loved one at his side. Clueing back in thanks to the sharp bite of her nail in his palm, Jason tried to gather himself, perhaps a little uselessly.
With the way she looked at him, it was alright. She’d seen people fall apart before, in many many different ways. So had Jason. It just felt a little strange to be on the other side of things for once.
He laughed. The sound rang hollow. “We’re not even- we’re divorced. Have been for years, I haven’t even seen him, spoken to him in- I don’t know why he’d-”
She squeezed Jason’s hand to bring his attention back to the forefront. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here, and I can bet this is where he wants you to be. Breathe. Come on.”
Guiding Jason into the chair next to her, she held onto Jason’s hand as he regained the rhythm of his breath he didn’t realize he’d lost. Several long minutes passed with only distant beeping and those soft keys clacking as the nurses carefully did not look in their direction. Jason stared forwards, seeing nothing, believing everything.
“What’s your name?” He finally asked when their hands no longer felt clammy to hold.
“Hanna,” she replied. “You can call me Hanna.”
Turning to Hanna, Jason gave her a short nod. “Jason.”
A short laugh jumped from Hanna’s mouth. “I think I managed to figure that one out, thanks.”
Another stretch of silence slowly reached its end as muffled footsteps grew closer to the waiting room.
“No, thank you,” Jason said, already standing to meet the doctor about to enter.
“Family of Richard Grayson?” The gruff older doctor called, somewhat pointlessly since really, no one else was here, but Jason was too tired to care. It was time. Whatever waited behind those doors, the one the doctor came in through, would change his life.
Another laugh broke through Hanna, still sitting in her chair.
Jason almost didn’t turn around. He did anyways.
“It’s… kind of really fucking romantic.”
“What is?” Jason asked. What could an ex-husband in critical condition, almost dying, have to do with romance?
Hanna smiled, wide and hopeful, sending a clear glance at the calendar and clock hanging by the nurse’s station. “You reunited with your true love on Valentine’s Day. How… beautiful.”
There was no need to ask how she figured out what Dick was to Jason.
He just had a feeling she knew.
In a weird way, it felt right that Jason reunited with Dick in the dead of night. That’s where they’ve spent their lives, where they found themselves, where they found each other. Became who they were meant to be - with stars above their heads and darkness all around, they thrived. Their first kiss, their first night together, even their proposal, with Jason down on one knee and the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on them both, all were encased in night’s embrace. What a dream that midnight was, when Jason believed they’d have forever.
Things changed.
He couldn’t find any words left to say.
Holding onto the rail at the foot of Dick’s bed, Jason lifted his hung head to stare at Dick’s pale face. Tubes protruded from various veins and orifices, so much gauze wrapped around Dick it was a miracle his chest kept rising. A miracle Jason watched with envy. How easy (how hard) Dick had it. That same moon’s light reached across the room from the window next to the bed, but this was different. Jason lost his trust in the moon’s promises.
“This is…” He faltered. “You goddamn- why would you- I can’t-” He tripped. Stumbled. Fell over himself. Why was this so difficult.
It was in the night, too, that Jason lost Dick. Now it had to make sense that he’d find him again.
Dick slept through Jason’s fumbling. The doctor had informed Jason of every injury, of the long recovery Dick had ahead of him, and all the roadblocks they might face. They. Because the doctor made one very clear, very obvious assumption that Jason was realizing he hadn’t questioned himself on even once since his phone rang earlier that evening.
Looking at the shifting shadows on Dick’s face, Jason traced through all the visual differences that time had wrought upon him. Deepened wrinkles, a new scar along his cheek, a peppering of salt at his temples. But his jawline was just as sharp, and plumps lips were just as inviting as the many times Jason took up their temptation to get a taste for himself. He could remember with such slick detail how each kiss used to linger on his mouth for days.
Perhaps it was the ghost of those lips pressing against Jason’s that finally loosened his mouth and let the floodgates open.
“I hate- hate seeing you like this. You know that? It’s why I put down the mask in the first place. How could you- how dare you force me to watch you end up here, again, as if you haven’t spent your life throwing yourself at Death’s feet and laughing when he steps over you. One of these goddamn days you won’t skip out of his grasp. I told you before and I’ll tell you again. Fuck you for bringing me here.” As if Dick was the real reason Jason was standing in his hospital room, listening to the steady beating of his heart monitor. Jason needed someone to blame. Why not his ex-husband? More questions swirled in his head, an ache throbbing behind his left eye as stress ran rampant through him. “Why are you even in the States?” Why are you this close? “Last I heard you were gallivanting across Europe. Busy getting as far the fuck away from me as possible,” Jason scoffed. “You should’ve stayed wherever you dragged yourself off to.” Hypocritical? Maybe. (Definitely.) Jason didn’t care.
No response. Typical.
A sudden ripple of exhaustion tore into Jason and he had a singular bare moment to step over to the nearby chair before he was falling into it with a heavy thud. Jason’s head dropped into his waiting hands, and he let out a long, long sigh.
“Every… time. Every time I think I escape you I come right back around.” He admitted. He confessed. The truth slipped out easier at three in the morning than it did at three in the afternoon, but it did not taste any sweeter for it. Because it didn’t matter how many times Jason thought he’d finally given up on Dick Grayson.
He never wanted to do it in the first place.
That final mission… it wasn’t supposed to happen. Jason had dropped the Red Hood mask 0n purpose, got out of the vicious game, put down the weapons. One too many reasons to quit had built up; the decision was tough, but with Dick at his side, supporting him, Jason found other ways to save people and help his communities. He was thriving and he luckily managed to avoid vigilante-level disasters for awhile. But then one day Dick approached him- still deep in the nightlife, still proudly wearing the blue bird across his chest- with a request lingering in the back of his throat. When his husband looked at him with that strength and courage Jason married him for, he said yes.
Look where it got them.
What a mess.
At least the chair in Dick’s room was the same as the one in the waiting room, nice and big and comfy.
Jason closed his eyes. He was nowhere near sleeping, but he could let himself drift. Let himself pretend to be separated from all of this, like he was anywhere but here, biding his time waiting for a half-dead man to wake up and face the consequences of not letting go.
They were too damned old for this.
“You stupid… stupid… man.” Jason didn’t know which of the two of them he meant. Probably both.
It had to say something that the nurse took one look at Jason when she came in to check on Dick, and left only to bring Jason a cup of tea and a blanket.
“I don’t-”
“Yes, you do,” she replied, draping the blanket around Jason’s shoulders. Patting Jason’s back, he thought that might be everything, a moment of care and humanity that he likely needed, but the nurse had more to give. “That tea’s only going to warm you up for so long. I hear it lasts longer when you hold another person’s hand.”
“Do you meddle in everyone’s lives?” Jason asked sharply.
“Tsk, that’s what I’m paid for, isn’t it?”
She left swiftly after that, surely to pass along the gossip of the divorcee with the short temper to the other nurses of the floor. If Jason had to guess, the whispers of his sorry self had already reached the other floors as well. By morning, the whole hospital would know about him.
And, Jason had to admit, she had a point. The tea lasted 20 minutes at most.
Dick’s hand was indeed warmer to hold. Even through the thick layer of bandages.
“I’m getting too old for hospital chairs. They’ll have to admit me next for back pains,” Jason said, his eyes closing as he leaned back in his seat, Dick’s arm stretched out so he could still cradle it close. This one didn’t have any tubes to be careful of, thankfully.
He didn’t expect anything. He’d been speaking to himself for half the night trying to keep his sanity. Had probably hallucinated parts of it.
So when Dick spoke, Jason almost forgot to listen.
It was soft. So very, very soft.
“I’ll make sure… to tell them… to put you in a different room.”
The smile on Dick’s face was weak, his eyes squinting in the moonlight as his head turned to the side to gaze over at Jason.
That voice.
Like an arrow true to its mark, it shot straight through Jason’s heart. His head snapped down to stare wide-eyed at the freshly awakened Dick. Too many thoughts scrambled Jason’s brain, too many things to say, too many accusations to make, too many brutal truths needing unearthing. He probably should’ve started off kind. Or at least temperate. The man was in a hospital bed, for crying out loud, and had brushed closely enough to death that Jason almost joined him from the sheer shock and worry his heart had gone through in the past several hours.
But that consideration wasn’t what ended up slipping out of Jason’s mouth.
“A decade and you’re still doing your best to get rid of me.”
Jason saw how the hard wince sent rivulets of pain down Dick’s body.
Chastising Dick, Jason stepped up to the edge of the bed, fiddling about with the medical equipment in order to find the remote for the morphine drip. “Don’t you dare play martyr, you’re too old for that anyhow. You have a good amount of morphine at your disposal- use it. You’re allowed to,” Jason spoke without returning the widening gaze. This was too many words at once, like he was trying to fit several years of talking into one conversation. The feeling he kept coming to was something like being skinned alive- bare, revealing, unquestionably raw. “Nothing ever changes with you, does it.”
“Nope,” Dick responded with a breathy sigh. “Still the same jackass you once loved.”
What was Jason supposed to say to that? Instead, he pressed the remote into Dick’s hand, then searched around for the call button. May as well get some medically trained eyes on him now that he was talking and causing problems in Jason’s psyche again. Clearly he couldn’t be suffering too much if that was the case.
Dick continued. “Middle age suits you, you look… well. Happier.”
“Stop projecting onto me,” Jason said, sneaking a look out the corner of his eye. Dick still had that dopey grin on his face. OK, maybe he was more out of it than Jason hoped.
“Jay, I-”
“Ah, Mr. Grayson! How are we feeling?”
Saved by the nurse. Jason backed off, letting Dick’s attention be swallowed up by Nurse Evans’ straightforward questions. A sudden, but welcome, reprieve, as it allowed Jason to step out of the room for a moment and try to catch his breath.
Dick was alive.
Dick was alive.
Everything hit him at once.
The first sob broke through Jason, bucking his chest like an angry bull, forcing him to bite on his white-knuckled fist in a desperate attempt to keep some part of him together. Anger masquerading as his guilt and self-hatred screamed at him to leave. Get out, run away, this was nothing but a giant mistake, one in a list of many when it came to Dick fuckin’ Grayson. Somehow Jason’s mind hadn’t yet tired of running in circles all night long, because it continued, with a sharpness that sobered him of any further crying.
Jason was still mad at Dick.
Nothing had been truly resolved. Time heals wounds, yes, but not all of them. Their anger, their hurt had come from somewhere, and left scars. That would need attention, care, and consideration. Jason hadn’t forgotten the things that had torn them apart in the first place, and keeping that pain would be the easiest thing in the world. As he let history wash over him, Jason realized one last crucial thing.
He already had a plan to fix it.
Maybe not all of it- after all, it takes two to tango and the same two to turn a dancefloor into a battlefield. Having Dick’s input, and willingness, was a vital step in going anywhere from here, so Jason couldn’t profess to have the future laid out perfectly and unyieldingly. He did know, however, exactly where his attention, care, and consideration would fit in like jagged puzzle pieces. Making the picture of the two of them together might not be as hard as it seemed.
A bundle of sheets slapped against his torso, his hands automatically coming up to catch them.
“Wha-” Jason hadn’t seen Nurse Evans leave, nor return, in all his turmoil.
“His vitals look good. Rest will be important- for both of you. I suggest you dress up that couch before I put you on a gurney and make you.” Her no-nonsense tone was refreshing. She couldn’t be more than a few years older than Dick, and strangely reminded Jason of Babs. “We’ll be back to check on him in a few hours. Until then…”
Jason didn’t need- nor want- more prodding. He nodded, stepping back into the room and closing the door behind him. One sole sliver of adrenaline churned him onwards, giving the courage to make eye contact with Dick, who was settled down onto his pillows.
“How’s your head?”
“No complaints yet.” The automatic response, a joke that followed them from the past into the present, lit a tiny tendril in Jason’s core. Memory, resemblance, hope, excitement, love. Call it what you will, Jason was no idiot.
He recognized the seed it was. Now, it was time to plant it.
“Good.”
Dragging the couch over, Jason set it up so that it was parallel to Dick’s bed, just close enough for him to bridge the gap and grab onto Dick’s hand. Fresh sheets covered the cushions and a blanket draped over Jason’s body; his shoes kicked off to the side, his jacket long hung elsewhere. Comfort snuck up on Jason, but he didn’t let it engulf him entirely until he witnessed Dick’s body relax into slumber, his chest rising and falling, oh so very alive.
In the morning, Jason will jolt up, suddenly awake, breaths heaving, to see Dick staring at him with wide, horror-filled eyes. Dick will get close enough to hyperventilating that the nurses will have to rush in and calm him down lest he pop any of his various stitches. The last vestiges of the dreams of a sweetened past will slip away from Jason who won’t know what to do with himself once the two of them are left alone again.
Dick will swallow once, then ask, “Are you real?”
Jason will say, honestly, “Unfortunately yes.”
Dick will break into giggles that look equal parts painful and manic, until Jason has to step up to his side and push him down into the mattress, calming him down to only mild levels of hysteria.
He will know exactly what Dick will be thinking.
“No, not a hallucination, not drugs either, although you’re on some pretty intense ones. Just me. In the flesh.”
“You’re… here.”
Jason will swallow down his rising heart. “You asked me to be.”
At Dick’s confusion, he’ll clarify, “Apparently I’m listed as your emergency contact.”
Dick will go quiet, pull in on himself, and stutter out a single sighed, “Oh.”
Time will pass.
Gradually more words will be spoken, more will be revealed. The day will be filled with tests and check-ins and clear instructions on the road to recovery.
Jason will be included in those plans. He’ll have a place in Dick’s future, at his side.
And as the sun will set, Jason will admit to exactly how deeply and sincerely scared he was.
Dick will say, as the stars begin to rise and night envelops their little piece of this world, “I’m very, very glad I never stopped loving you.”
Finally, Jason will, at last, smile.
“You know, there are better ways of getting me to spend Valentine’s with you than being hit with a car and almost drowning. Happy Valentine’s day, Dickie.”
Dick will laugh. It’s the most beautiful sound Jason’s heard in a long, long time.