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He can act as tough as he wants, but Roy knows him better. He knows most of his anger comes from a sense of abandonment, of a deep-rooted feeling that he is not wanted or loved. He knows that he wakes up early in the mornings to feed the feral cat on the fire escape, and that he often visits his elderly neighbor just to gossip, because they are both lonely. He knows that he donates both money and time to different charities and projects around Crime Alley, and that he pets every single dog that allows him. He knows the working girls and the street kids know him by name, and that they might even know he is the Red Hood, but that Jason doesn't care either way. He knows he doesn't kill anymore, and he knows it's not because he changed his morals. The point is, he knows many things about Jason Todd, and that's why he loves him so much. Because he is an honest-to-God lovable kid.
So when Roy realizes that Jason likes to borrow the surnames of every single one of Dick's fake identities, he also knows why. Jason is a soft-hearted kid, sure, but he isn't doing that out of brotherly love. No, Roy has seen how he looks at Dick when he thinks no one is looking. That kid is in love.
The next time Jason needs a new fake ID, he offers to make it for him, and when Jason agrees, he gets to work. He only meant to tease him a bit, so he took an old identity of Dick that he had discarded, John Knightley, and made him the husband of Jason's new identity: Jason Knightley. Flustered and blushing, Jason whined about making him a new solid ID. But this one was solid, had paper trails tying him to Dick's and everything; shared bank accounts, shared address, they are even each other's emergency contacts! And it wasn't like they would stay in Newcastle too long, either way. They just needed to watch over their mark a little bit, get the info they needed, and then get out. Easy peasy.
The explosion came out of nowhere, and so did the fire, and as the ceiling fell, he lost sight of Jason.
No matter how much he tried to dig him out, he couldn't reach him, and when the firemen came, they removed him from the scene and sent him to a hospital for smoke inhalation.
It's 8 PM on a Friday, and Dick has just gotten back home from the precinct and is debating whether or not to have dinner before going on patrol, when he hears it. In his office, there is a phone ringing, which is curious, because Dick has his phone in his hand right now. He goes to check and realizes that the sound is from an old burner phone he never got rid of, and that had just ended deep into a drawer, never to be seen again. That it had any battery at all was nothing short of a miracle, but by the time he reached it, it stopped ringing.
He doesn't recognize the number, but the area code comes from the UK, so out of pure curiosity, he plugs the phone into a charger and goes to look for some cereal. It's not been 15 minutes when the burner rings again, he picks it up, and a calm male voice says, 'Hello, Mr. Knightley?' He does a quick run over the people who know that name and have that phone, but as far as he knows, there should be none. He says yes, either way, willing to see how far this goes. 'I'm Nurse Haynsworth, calling you from The Royal Victoria Infirmary, regarding your husband.' He moves back to his office and turns on his laptop, quickly searching the name and finding a hospital in Newcastle upon Tyne in the UK. 'There was an explosion, and your husband was caught in it. As his next of kin, we require your presence, Sir.' He does not have a husband.
Did someone steal his fake identity? "I'm sorry, my husband?" If so, then how and why do they have this number? 'Your husband, Jason Knightly? I'm sorry, is this not John Knightley?' In the background, he hears the busy sounds of a hospital, people moving here and there in a hurry, "Yes, yes, it is. It's just.. sorry, I think I'm in shock. Is he okay?" The nurse is getting suspicious, but Dick wants to get to the bottom of this. He starts searching for flights to Newcastle. It's 10 hours away, best-case scenario. The name doesn't ring any bells, except— 'Your presence is required in the Hospital, Sir. Can you get here quickly?' Except the name Jason + Explosion + Far away leave a very bad taste in his mouth. God, did he had to be called Jason? His heart is beating fast, he feels nauseous. Not many details on the patient, just who and where. That means the patient is in danger. "Is he okay?" His breathing is laboured, desperate. "Can I talk to him?" The sounds in the background of the phone call become louder, but he can't make them out due to the ringing in his ears 'I'm sorry, Sir. He hasn't regained consciousness.' His voice is grave, and Dick feels cold in all his limbs.
He isn't even sure that this is his Jason, yet he says he will be there and hangs up. He tries calling all the numbers he has available for Jason, but none of them pick up. He asks Oracle to track him, but Babs says he found footage of Jay leaving Gotham. He calls Roy. If Jason went international, he went with Roy. While the phone connects, Dick starts packing a quick bag. 'Dick?' He is coughing. There is a lot of noise wherever Roy is.
"Where is he?" He doesn't mean to be so curt, but he feels so on edge, he doesn't have time for platitudes.
'Wha— Dick? I don't know, there was an—' It's Jason. It's his Little Wing.
He hangs up and calls Wally. 'Halloo—'
"I need a favor. My apartment. It's urgent." He hasn't finished speaking when he feels the wind pick up, even though he is indoors, and then Wally is there.
And there must be something on his face, because Wally only asks, "Where to?" And then they're off. He doesn't like to use his friend like this, but there is little else on his mind but the broken, burnt corpse of his little brother, covered in a yellow cape, and an entire ocean away, not that different from a galaxy away, alone and calling for him. Far away, where Dick can't reach him. Wally deposits him behind some building, and as soon as his feet touch the floor, he takes off running towards the Emergency Room doors, with Wally right behind him.
He reaches the help desk and almost crashes into it in his hurry, "Jason Knightley! Where is he?!" His hands are trembling, and the attendant gives him the stink eye, and he honestly doesn't have the fucking—
A warm hand on his shoulder makes him pause, and Wally says, "Sorry about that. Is Jason Knightley here? We received a call." Walls is really good at improvising and at keeping his cool, but the situation is serious. Urgent. Dick tells them that he's Jason's husband, which makes Wally raise his eyebrows in surprise. The nurse tells them the room number, that visitation hours are over, and that they have to come when the sun rises. It's 1 AM, but even if it weren't, Dick is going nowhere until he sees Jason Todd. He is about to rip this civilian nurse's head off when another nurse shows up and calls his name. His fake name.
"Mr. Knightly? I'm Nurse Haynsworth. I believe we talked on the phone. You got here rather quickly." He got there in 5 minutes, thanks to Wally. The nurse smiles at him, but it quickly dies when he sees his probably bloodshot eyes and feels his murderous aura. "He is awake now, Sir. He stabilized rather quickly." The pit. He's about to demand to see him when—
"Excuse me, Jason Knightly! Is he here?!" They all turn to find another red-headed man on the help desk. Roy Harper has burns on his arms and soot all over his clothes and skin, his red hair wild and singed. Wally offers him his shoulder and asks if he is okay. Roy insists that he is, even though it's obvious he is not, so when they reach Jason's door, Dick turns to both of them seriously and says, "Husband privileges," then closes the door behind him.
He hears Roy complain and Wally drag him back to the ER to get medical attention.
It was a gas leak, out of all fucking things. It hadn't even been anything case-related. Criminal? Yes. But not the type of crime vigilantes investigate, but the type that the City Councils should take on. It was a crime to have outdated gas pipes leaking in the basement of your bar and going up in flames and causing an explosion when one of your workers goes out for a smoke, after all. The explosion sent Jason flying, and he lost consciousness.
He is expecting Roy to get there any second now, so when he is told that they got in contact with his husband and that he should be here any second, he blanks out.
He stares blankly at the nurse.
Jason's face is clear of pain, but it still has some soot on it. His chest is rising and falling without issue, and his vitals are stable. The beeping of his heart monitor is rhythmical in sound and steady, like music to Dick's ears. Oh, and he is faking being asleep. He smiles at Jason's feeble attempt at deceiving him and holds his hand. He holds it gently, feeling his strong pulse for a moment, then intertwines their fingers and squeezes his hand. Jason stops faking then and opens his eyes, "Dickie?" he murmurs, but Dick shakes his head no.
"Did you forget the name of your husband, Jay?" He says teasingly. He is alive, and well, and awake, and possibly unharmed already, if the pit is good for anything. He's alive, he repeats like a mantra. He's alive.
"Are you mad?" He doesn't say anything more about it at all, offers no excuse, doesn't seem to regret it either. The pretty red blush on his cheeks is telling enough, though. He wants to see it more.
"Not for the reasons that you think." He brings Jason's hand to his lips and kisses it softly, then presses his forehead on it. He is tired. A million different scenarios popped up in his head as he made his way to Jason; worst-case scenarios where he lost him and all the will to live, with him, were the most prominent. To have him here, alive, and blushing; faking sleep to get out of a scolding— well, it's refreshing, yes. But he's still tired.
"You're falling asleep, Dickhead. Get in here." He raises the covers in invitation. The bed is flimsy and small, barely big enough for Jason, and the nurse will certainly not appreciate it— he gets in anyway, wraps his arms around Jason, and brings him as close to him as he can, using the small space as an excuse. He doesn't sleep, neither of them do, but he feels better. He wants to explore more of that blush, though, of the trembling of his hand as he kisses them, of the sigh he lets out as Dick hugs him; he thinks there is much more hidden there for him, if he takes the time to look for it. He wants to dig deeper, peel every layer of Jason, until he has nothing left to hide from him.
Husband, he thinks. Husband, huh.
Soon, Wally and Roy will get there, and they'll have to think of an excuse to get Jason out of here and then burn their fake identities, but right now. He can stay here with Jason on his arms, the rhythmic beating of his heart on his ears.