Chapter Text
It happened after another fight with Bruce. The Joker escaped again and Jason had again asked to kill the fucker. But like the moral compass he is, Bruce yelled at him. Like Willis.
Jason couldn't take it anymore. He drove to his safe house that he hoped knew no one knew about. Today was it. He could feel it itching at his skin–his mind. He heard his phone ringing once he'd entered the apartment. Dick, probably worried about him–especially after today. Although it might be risky to answer it, the safe house was on the opposite side of Gotham from where the Bats were cleaning the Joker's mess. Even if they noticed something was wrong they wouldn't get there in time.
“Hey little wing I know you aren't happy about the Joker…but we put him back in Arkham so you don't have to think about that.”
“...awesome,” He started filling his bathtub with clear water it would be red soon, knife in the other hand. “Listen Dick, I'm just gonna take a shower ‘nd clean up–I'll talk to you in the morning.” Lier
“Ok! See you la–” Dick was immediately interrupted by Jason ending the call.
Besides his jacket he kept most of his clothes on as he sunk into the cold water, no point in pretending.
He raised the knife to his wrist prepared to slice it multiple times. Skin was bitchy that way, when he was out fighting crime a knife could touch his skin once and he'd bleed, but when he wanted to do it himself he had to move it back and forth again and again.
Once he finally got it bleeding he set the knife down and closed his eyes. How long had it been since he'd last slept? He sighed, sinking into the warming water; maybe if he pretended he was in his bed, it wouldn't hurt as bad.
He wouldn't hear the door unlock, wouldn't feel the shaking hands checking his wrist and his neck for any sign of life, wouldn't smell the food Alfred made to try and cheer them up, wouldn't see his family bury him a second time.
Because Jason Peter Todd was dead, just as he wanted.