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The alley reeked. Surprisingly not just the usual Gotham cocktail mix of piss and rain and rotting rubbish, but of the smell of blood that cut through everything else and settled heavy in the back of Jason’s throat. Blood. Was it his blood? Other people’s blood? It didn’t really matter anymore. It all smelled the same after a while.
“not so tough now, huh?”
Jason let his head loll to the side, his mask dragging against wet concrete. The impact sent a dull, dragging throb up through his skull, his vision flickering at the edges like a faulty lightbulb struggling to stay on.
Well fuck.
A boot slammed hard into his ribs, the force of it knocking the breath clean out of him. Something shifted under the impact, a sharp grinding crack that sent a flare of pain tearing through his side.
That dragged a sound out of him, something caught halfway between a grunt and a laugh.
“Yeah.” he rasped, his voice shredded thin from too much blood and not enough air. “There it is.”
He catalogued the damage distantly. One rib, maybe two? Possibly worse, that will be a dick to clean up later, but nothing he hadn’t already experienced.
Nothing he hadn’t already died from.
Jason’s grin sharpened as he turned his head to the attackers.
“C’mon.” he muttered forcing his arm to move, to push against the ground even as it trembled under his own weight. “That all you got?”
Maybe going out sick wasn’t his best idea.
Immediately after he finished that thought, another hit followed. A fist this time, slamming hard into his helmet.
What kind of an idiot hits a helmet with his bare fist? Gotham idiots, that’s who.
His head snapped back and the world tilting violently before slamming into place again. Somewhere in the haze he is pretty sure he heard a crack.
Even though the guy who has hit him had staggered off, stringing curses as he clutched his hand.
There were still too many of them.
He had known that going in.
He had walked into it anyway.
And he was doing good, great even!
Until they called for backup from King Kong himself.
Could Jason have left?
Yeah.
Especially after the injuries he got on jobs earlier?
Oh definitely.
But did he? No.
Because sometimes you need days like this, where the pain could remind you that you’re alive and breathing.
He’ll take them down when he is done having his time and isn’t feeling like he is about to vomit his guts up.
For now, let em think he is down.
“Boss said don’t kill him.” someone muttered nearby. “He want’s him brought back in the end to teach him a lesson of fuckin’ up so many gigs.”
So original.
“Tell your boss.” Jason smirked up at them. “He can suck it.”
Another hit followed his words, then another, each one driving him further into the haze that was already threatening to swallow him whole.
Jeez okay- time to wrap this up.
But before he could something shifted.
It was subtle, the kind of thing most people wouldn’t notice, but Jason had never been most people. It crawled up his spine, that old instinct flaring to life whether he wanted it to or not, something sharp and electric settling at the base of his skull.
Someone else was here.
Someone familiar.
The man holding him tensed as a sound rang out alerting them that somebody was there.
“What the hell??-“
They didn’t get to finish their sentence before a shape dropped from above, moving with a kind of controlled ease that made something in Jason’s chest twist tight before he could stop it. The impact was clean and efficient, the kind of takedown Jason had seen a hundred times before, the kind he had once tried to copy and live up to.
The alley shifted in seconds. The men who had been crowding him scattered, retreating into the dark like they had never been there at all.
Jason sagged as the grip on him disappeared, his knees hitting the ground hard. Pain flared up through his legs dragging a quiet hiss from between his teeth.
Maybe he let them go harder than he should have.
As for the other issue.
He didn’t look up.
Didn’t need to.
He already knew who was there.
Especially from the way those boots landed infront of him.
“Red Hood.”
The voice was steady, the work voice, or atleast that’s what Jason calls it.
“You’re coming with me.”
Jason huffed out a laugh.
Of course.
“Little late for the hero entrance.” Jason muttered, he shifted trying to push himself up but his arm gave out halfway through and he dropped back down with a sharp exhale. “Ah fuck.”
There was a pause. It was small and barely noticeable, but Jason caught it anyway.
“…You’ve been busy,” Nightwing said after a moment. The words were neutral, but there was something tight under them. “Too busy by the looks of it.”
Jason turned his head slightly, spitting blood onto the pavement beside Nightwing’s boots.
“Yeah no shit, somebodies gotta clean up what you and the bats won’t.” he said. “You gonna write me up for it or just skip to the part where you try to drag me in?”
Nightwing stepped closer.
“You’re hurt.” Nightwing said.
Jason let out a dry laugh.
“Yeah again, no shit.”
He forced himself up onto one elbow again, his ribs screamed in protest and his lungs stuttered but he pushed through it anyway.
His face felt unbearably warm as the sickness swallowed him even more, he could tell this would put him out of commission for a bit.
“Didn’t realize you got a promotion to detective rather than golden boy.”
Nightwing didn’t react to his words. He didn’t snap back or fire off something sharp in return. He just kept watching him.
“I’m not here to fight you.” he said. “Just come quietly.”
Jason laughed again.
Did that line ever work?
“Yeah.” he said. “That’s not happening.”
He tried to stand.
But his legs buckled immediately, the world tilting sharply beneath him.
“Ah fuck!-“
And then it didn’t.
A hand caught him.
And Jason froze.
For a split second the alley vanished. The smell of blood and rot was replaced by warm air and open sky, by the rush of wind across rooftops and the sound of laughter.
A hand grabbing his cape before he could fall.
A voice in his ear lightly scolding him with a slight laugh.
“Careful Little Wing!”
Jason’s breath hitched, sharp and involuntary as frustration filled his lungs.
The grip on him tightened.
“…Easy.” Nightwing said, softer now compared to before. “Don’t move.”
Jason’s head snapped up.
And everything went to hell.
Because the mask had cracked.
He hadn’t noticed before. Too busy getting his face beaten in. But now it was obvious, a jagged fracture splitting through the red helmet, cutting across the eye to down to his mouth. The material had shifted just enough that part of his face showed through.
And Nightwing went completely still.
You know that’s probably how he was able to spit blood on the ground now that he thought about it.
Jason saw it happen in real time. Saw the exact moment the recognition hit, slow and creeping like Dick’s brain was trying to reject it before it could settle.
His gaze caught on the exposed skin, on the shape of Jason’s jaw, the familiar line of his mouth.
“…no.” Dick whispered.
Jason felt something sharp twist in his chest and he couldn’t stop the cruel smirk that spread across his face.
“What’s wrong, cat got your tongue Dickie?”
The hand on him loosened just slightly like holding on too tight might break something.
“…Jason?” Dick said, quieter now like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to say it.
Jason’s lip curled, anger rising fast enough to smother anything else before it could take hold.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost” he dragging himself, standing to face Dick. “Oh wait!”
Dick flinched.
Not Nightwing.
Dick.
Jason saw it clearly, the shift and the mask melting off.
“You’re dead.” Dick said.
Jason snorted.
“News to me, thought the old man would have filled you in on the fact that didn’t stick.”
Dick shook his head slowly like he could undo it if he just refused hard enough.
“No.” he said. “No, we buried you!”
Jason’s jaw tightened and he spoke to Dick like he was dumb.
“Yeah.” he said. “Don’t next time, cremate. Or if you must, buy a cheaper coffin easier to claw out of.”
Rain started to pick up again, tapping against the metal bins and running in thin streams down the alley walls.
Dick took a step back, then another, like he didn’t trust himself to stand too close.
“This isn’t real.” he said under his breath. “It can’t be.”
Jason let out a sharp bark of a laugh.
“God, you always do that!” he snapped.
Dick looked up.
“What?”
“Act like if something doesn’t fit your neat little world, it just doesn’t exist.” Jason said. “Must be nice, is that why you didn’t come to my funeral?”
Dick’s hands curled into fists.
“You don’t get to-“
“What?” Jason cut in. “Talk? Breathe? Exist? Not just be some forgotten memory you can push away move on from?”
“Jason-“
“Don’t.”
The word came out harsher than he intended but he didn’t take them back.
The rain filled the silence between them, steady and unrelenting like Gotham herself was crying.
After a moment Dick dragged a hand over his face smearing water and something else Jason didn’t want to think about across his skin.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
There was something raw and broken in his tone as he spoke to him.
“Got older.” Jason said flatly like it was the most obvious thing in the world before smirking again. “You should try it sometime!”
Dick exhaled shakily.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
Silence stretched again.
Jason shifted his weight slightly, biting back a hiss as pain flared through his side. His ribs protested and his lungs stuttering before he forced them back into rhythm with a groan.
Dick noticed immediately.
“You need help.” he said stepping forward again.
Jason stiffened.
“No.”
“Jason-“
“I said no.”
Dick hesitated but he didn’t back off completely.
“You’re bleeding out…” he said.
Jason let out a laugh.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Dick flinched hard enough that it looked like Jason’s words physically hit him.
Good.
“You think this is a joke?” Dick asked his voice tightening with anguish.
Jason shook his head slightly.
“No.” he said. “Jokes are funny, this is just pathetic.”
Dick’s jaw clenched.
“You died.” he said. “And now you’re back like this. You expect me to just- what? Accept it?”
Jason tilted his head.
“I don’t expect anything from you. Because I already know what that’ll get me.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
Jason barked out a laugh at him.
“Why?” he shot back. “So you can understand? So you can pretend this is something you can fix? Here comes golden boy Grayson to the rescue again!”
Dick stepped closer again, his movements careful like he was approaching a feral stray cat about to pounce or run off.
“I’m not trying to fix you.” he said. “I just need to understand.”
Jason snarled at him.
“You don’t get to understand.” he said. “You lost that right a long time ago.”
Dick’s expression tightened, and if Jason looked close enough he could have sworn he saw tears bubbling in his eyes.
When had he taken off his mask?
“That’s not fair.”
Jason shrugged.
“Didn’t say it was.”
Dick’s breathing picked up, rough and uneven.
“You think I didn’t love you?” he demanded. “You think I didn’t mourn you?”
“The new Robin isn’t really cutting you any favours.” Jason cut in.
And Dick went silent.
Jason watched him for a moment, his gaze sharp despite the haze creeping in at the edges of his vision.
“Sure moved on from my death fast didn’t you?” Jason continued. “It’s not like you wanted me there in the first place.”
Dick shook his head.
“That’s not how it was Jason!”
“Funny.” Jason muttered. “Sure didn’t seem like it from my perspective.”
Dick’s hands trembled slightly.
“I- I didn’t hate you! I was angry at Bruce and shouldn’t have taken it out on you but!-“
“Yeah.” Jason said. “I’ve heard all this before you don’t need to repeat.”
The word hung between them like something heavy and unavoidable.
Dick’s gaze dropped for a second.
“It never felt the same after you left.” he said.
Jason blinked, thrown off.
“What?”
Dick let out a hollow breath.
“After you died.” he said, his voice rough and wobbly. “Everything just stopped.”
Jason’s chest tightened but he pushed it down immediately.
Maybe because he was finally getting told somebody mourned him, that he wasn’t completely forgotten.
“Not my problem.”
Dick looked up at him.
“You’re just a kid.” he said.
Jason’s jaw clenched.
“Was just a kid.” he corrected.
Dick swallowed.
“You were my baby brother and I loved you.” he said quietly. “I still do, because no matter what you’re still my little brother. And I want to protect you, where I failed to before.”
Jason laughed sharply and bitter.
“You don’t get to protect me.” he said.
Dick nodded slowly.
“I know.”
That threw Jason off more than anything else had so far.
“But I still want to.” Dick added.
Jason looked away.
“…That’s a you problem.”
“Yeah.” Dick said. “It is.”
The rain lightened slightly turning into a steady background noise instead of a harsh downpour.
Jason shifted again, his body threatening to give out under him.
Dick stepped forward instinctively.
Jason’s eyes snapped up.
“I said don’t.”
Dick froze, hands half raised.
“…just let me help, little wing please.” he said.
But Jason shook his head.
“No.”
“Why not?”
Jason exhaled slowly, his chest tight.
“Because you won’t like what you’re helping.” he said.
Dick frowned.
“I don’t care.”
Jason shook his head and looked away with furrowed eyebrows.
“Yeah.” he said. “You will.”
Silence settled between them again.
Then Jason took a step back.
Then another.
Dick’s chest tightened visibly as he took a step forward and reached.
“Don’t.” he said.
Jason paused and looked at him.
“…Don’t what?”
“Don’t walk away…I can’t lose you again. I can’t lose my baby brother when u just got him back.”
Jason looked at him properly then, taking in the tension in his posture, the way his hands trembled slightly, the way tears had started falling down his eyes.
“…You don’t get to ask that.” Jason said quietly.
Dick swallowed, lowering his hand and going back to standing normally, no longer reaching out.
“…I know.”
Jason nodded once then turned.
“Jay-“
“I mean it.” Jason said not looking back. “Don’t follow me.”
Dick didn’t move.
Didn’t chase him.
Didn’t try to stop him.
He just stood there in the alley, rain soaking through him, watching Jason walk away like something he wasn’t allowed to reach for anymore. Like his baby brother was in a completely different world he couldn’t reach anymore.
And Jason didn’t look back.
Because if he did…
He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep going.