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Red Hood has been working with the Bats for a little over a year. Sort of. There's still tension there, still unspoken grievances and loud arguments. But he's been playing by their rules, mostly following orders. It's far from perfect, but Jason thought it was going okay. He'd even given Bruce a gift when the man's birthday had rolled around. It wasn't much, just some cufflinks decorated with sigils Jason learnt when staying with the All-Caste that he'd tossed at Bruce during patrol. He'd left a note explaining what they were, the sigils there to ward off the Untitled and, if the wearer had some innate magic, warn them. Sure, Jason was pretty sure he'd killed them all, but they were slippery fuckers. Useful or not, Jason had tried.
He doesn't know if Bruce ever wore them, he never really expected him to.
When Jason's birthday is coming up, he doesn't think much of it. There won't be a celebration, at most a couple of them might mention it on patrol. Jason doesn't expect anything. He let's himself hope, though, despite knowing better. It's not gifts he's hoping for, just acknowledgement, a passing comment or something. ‘Oh, Red Hood's here, happy birthday, anyway-’. Anything. It's not that he's not used to spending it alone, because of his own actions or someone else's, but it'd be nice to be remembered for once. Jason has actually been trying harder, this time, letting himself want the connection after so long denying it. He got them gifts around Christmas, when things were even more tentative, he was fairly punctual when it came to birthdays. Trying. Just trying.
He gets himself cake, like usual. Nothing much, just something to have after tea. It's a habit now, sort of, even though it's not been that many years since he came out of the pit. He does the same on Christmas, gets himself something just for the sake of it. Jason spent so long going without even the most basic things, he's allowed to have this. He doesn't think much of it when he doesn't hear from the Bats during the day, that's normal. Jason doesn't want to hope too much, refuses to imagine anything more than acknowledgement. That'll just get him hurt.
Because no matter what he hopes will happen, he knows it's unlikely they'll remember.
Patrol starts off normal, Jason slips out his window and starts scanning the streets of Crime Alley. When he hears Oracle checking in to confirm who's out, he chimes in at the end like usual. They seem to know what order to speak in, somehow. Jason just doesn't bother guessing. He doesn't really care about speaking over them, but it'd make Oracle's job harder and she'd probably get snappy with him. Or maybe he's just imagining it. Either could be true.
He drops down to spook someone dragging a woman into an alley, zipping back up once she confirms she's okay. Jason didn't even have to do much, they practically pissed themselves when he appeared. That's when he gets the call.
“Hood, you're needed at Tricorner,” Oracle's voice comes over the communicator. Jason bites back a sigh. The other end of the city, lovely.
“On it, it'll take me a moment though,” he says, rushing to where he'd left his bike. Sue him, he thought he'd have a nice patrol where he cam fly across the rooftops instead of weave through traffic. His bike is great for that, though, so it's not really an issue. What is an issue, though, is whatever is happening on the smaller island.
“Just be as fast as possible,” the comm link cuts off at that, letting Jason focus on driving. At least he wears a helmet.
Zipping down the still busy roads will never get old. Cars honk tentatively at him, like they realise who he is halfway through. Jason manages to make it through the Narrows before Oracle comes back.
“Hood where are you?” she sounds worried, sort of. A little irritated, but who can blame her.
“Just entering Downtown, traffic isn't exactly quiet and I don't really want to cause an accident,” he tries not to sound too rude, he really does. Jason isn't sure he manages.
“Get there soon.”
Sure, let him just teleport over there, that's something he can do.
Jason leans forward further and pushes his bike as fast as he can on these roads. Which isn't much faster than he was already going.
When Jason gets to Tricorner docks, he's expecting a shootout or something. Not cultists. Or the remains of them, anyway. Oracle directs him to a warehouse, because of course it is, and he stumbles slightly at the wall of magic he senses when he goes to step in. The All-Blades flare in his chest. On the floor is a large chalk circle, not a pentagram or anything like that, just a circle with small symbols curving along both sides of the line and larger ones in the centre. It's white. Black candles sit in-between the outer symbols, they aren't lit, but they're partially melted. People in large robes are strewn across the warehouse, still lying in dried puddles of blood. Jason can't see them well enough to know what killed them, but he can definitely make an educated guess.
Before he can voice this guess, however, Bruce speaks.
“Do you know what happened?” he asks, voice low and tense. Is he implying Jason did this? He's not even been to Tricorner recently.
“What?” he asks, baffled. Bruce points and- huh. That does look like a headshot. Sort of. It's definitely a puncture wound.
“Do you know what happened?” Bruce asks again. Jason scowls.
“No, Bruce, I don't. I hadn’t considered coming down here until Oracle called me in. In fact, I don't even know who these guys are, it's pretty obvious that their summoning worked though,” Jason sneers. Okay, Bruce might have had a reason to suspect him a while ago, but Jason's been trying his damn hardest here. Give him some credit, it's literally his birthday.
“How do you know that?” Bruce is even more suspicious, which, what? How can he not feel it, Jason isn't even that sensitive to magic and it's still overpowering. That might just be the innate evil it seems to have, though.
“It's obvious,” Jason gestures to the air around them. “Can you not feel it?”
“No,” Bruce's eyes narrow behind the cowl. “I can't ‘feel it’”
“It's literally the most powerful presence here, kind of nauseating actually. Pretty sure whatever they summoned fucked off after playing with them though,” Jason decides to be nice and just tell Bruce what he's thinking for once, it's his birthday and he wants a nice-ish night. Arguing with Bruce would ruin it. Maybe he should get himself another gift for that.
“Hn.”
Eloquent as ever, Bruce.
— —
Jason ends up poking around the warehouse with Batman's eyes drilling holes into him. Nothing much is uncovered, Jason doesn't recognise the symbols and can't identify what the magic is aside from vaguely evil. He can't tell if any of the cultists had any magical ability, partly because they're dead and partly because of the sheer presence whatever they summoned had. This is not the way he wanted to spend his birthday patrol.
At least he isn't getting shot at.
Bruce finally speaks, rattling of the estimated time of death, then, because he just has to ruin it, he asks:
“Where were you then, Hood."
“Probably in my safe house,” he snaps. He can't believe Bruce is pulling this. “Maybe heading home from patrol. Nowhere near here, that's for sure.”
“Hn,” Bruce grunts, because of course he does. “Oracle.”
“On it,” he hears over the comm. There's a moment of silence. “Cameras were down around Tricorner, I can't see the cultists either so it was probably them.”
Jason sighs.
“Check around the Alley,” Bruce says, cold as ever.
“On it.”
Jason uses his helmet to snap photos of the scene. Some of the symbols look almost familiar, but he can't make any sense of them. The silence is thick and heavy, filled with accusation and resentment. Jason wishes he'd never gone out tonight. It's his birthday, dammit, he wanted a nice evening. Bruce hasn't even acknowledged it, he's been too busy accusing Jason of murder when he knows Jason's been trying. What else is he meant to do? He's doing his fucking best here. It doesn't help that the Bats don't give him many opportunities to work with them. Jason gets it, he does, but surely they understand by now that he wants to do better. That he really is trying.
“Hood was in the Alley at the time,” Oracle says, before moving to another channel.
Bruce grunts again, still eyeing Jason suspiciously. His gaze burns.
“Let me see your helmet footage.”
“What?”
“The camera footage can be faked or it could be someone else. Come to the cave and let me see your helmet footage.”
Bruce is serious, isn't he?
Jason knows he's a stubborn asshole, but seriously.
He wants to fight back, to argue, to not let Bruce order him around. Jason almost does, opens his mouth to say something scathing. But he wants to try. He does. It's his birthday, he wants it to be good. At least as good as it can be after this. He sighs heavily.
“Fine.”
Bruce looks surprised for a moment, but quickly schools his face. The large, overdramatic cape flares out behind him when he stalks away, leaving Jason to hurry after him.
This is going to suck.
— —
After a long, tense, and completely silent journey, in which Jason had to take the Batmobile, they arrive at the Cave. No one speaks, the bats don't make a sound, all he can hear is the faint hum of the computers. Jason takes off his helmet, glaring at Bruce. His jaw is clenched, teeth pressing together harshly. He won't ruin it. He won't. Jason is trying. Jason wants this to be over so he can spend the rest of his birthday alone. Any hope of it being even vaguely acknowledged is gone, he wants to go home and maybe get himself another gift along the way. He's earnt it, after this.
Bruce scans through the footage carefully, leaving Jason to stew in his own thoughts.
He can't blame them, not really. Sure, he had his reasons before, but he still fucked up. Even if he'd felt betrayed, abandoned, left behind, it was his fault they can't trust him. They'd said as much. Well, not those exact words, but he could tell they believed it. It was glaringly obvious. He can't blame them, any of them, but it still sucks. Maybe he just needs to try harder, prove himself in some way, then they'll acknowledge him outside of the Red Hood mask. Figuratively, at least. He doesn't expect them to drop by his flat, but maybe they'll ask how his day went on patrol, like they do with eachother.
Bruce grunts again, standing up and handing Jason's helmet over. He'll have to check for bugs or tampering later.
“It's clear. You can go now,” he says, not looking Jason in the eye. He knows he fucked up, he's just too damn proud to say it. Jason wants to make him apologise. He doesn't.
“Told you,” he rolls his eyes and puts the helmet back on, feeling infinitely more secure with it covering his face. Jason never realises how much he hates the thought of them being able to read him until he takes it off. “My bike is still at Tricorner.”
The other side of the city. Again.
“I'll get Nightwing to bring it up soon,” Bruce says, typing away.
Jason just breaths steadily for a moment and goes to the training mats. May as well do something whilst he waits.
— —
It takes an annoyingly long time for Dick to get there. Jason knows he was probably busy, but it still sucked to be alone with Bruce in the cave. Neither of them had spoken again, but the silence was far from comfortable.
“Got your bike, Hood!” Dick calls, smiling at him. Jason likes when he does that, it makes him feel like maybe things are getting better.
“Thanks, Dick,” he says shortly, nodding. He wanted it to come out more genuine, but he's tired and wants to leave. It seems like he can never get his tone right, anyway. Dick's smile wavers slightly.
“Got anything to do tonight?” he asks, sounding almost unsure of himself. Jason smiles a little, hidden by the helmet. Maybe his work hasn't been for nothing, after all.
“Just a regular patrol, might get myself a gift,” he shrugs. Jason shouldn't have said it, if they didn't want to bring it up then they didn't have to. Whatever, Dick will just halfheartedly wish him a happy birthday and Jason will leave. Things may be close to okay, but if Dick isn't there yet then Jason won't force him to say anything.
“What for?” Is what comes out of Dick's mouth. He seems genuinely confused. Like he doesn't know.
Oh.
He doesn't know.
Doesn't remember.
Jason doesn't know what to feel about that.
He shrugs again, ignoring the ache in his chest. It doesn't matter. It doesn't.
“For surviving Bruce's interrogation, obviously,” he says. Hopefully it came across as a lighthearted joke. Dick laughs slightly, patting him on the shoulder. His touch is warm.
“Makes sense, hope he wasn't too Batman about it,” now it's Jason's turn to laugh. It comes out a little too stiff. He ignores it. Dick looks at him for a moment, searching. But Jason has his helmet, Dick can't see his face. He doesn't say anything.
Before Jason can leave, someone comes down the stairs into the Cave.
“Duke?” Dick asks, confused. Jason honestly forgot the teenager was staying in the Manor, he seemed to go between there and somewhere else. They haven't spoken all that much, but it had been Duke's birthday recently, so Jason had pulled him aside when he was on patrol. The gift hadn't been much, Jason had decided to just bake cookies, not knowing Duke well enough to buy anything. He'd also included a small sun pendant with the same sigils as Bruce's cufflinks. He wasn't sure how the magic would interfere with Duke's abilities and had worried about it being a terrible gift. Hence the cookies. Duke had looked at the pendent for a moment, but taken it anyway. As he walked towards them, Jason could see him wearing it on a leather cord around his neck.
“I know I should be in bed or whatever,” Duke started, and, yeah, he probably should be, considering he's usually dayshift. “But Alfred mentioned Jason was down here and I didn't know when I'd next catch him.”
He turns to Jason and holds out a gift bag. Which, what?
Duke falters a little when Jason doesn't move.
“Wait, shit, did I get the day wrong?” he asks.
“No,” Jason says slowly. He takes the bag carefully, scared he'll drop it. “Not unless this is a Christmas present.”
Humour. The best defense mechanism. See, Jason is having a very normal reaction here. There is no ache in his chest and his throat definitely doesn't feel like there's a lump in it.
“No, it's definitely a birthday present,” Duke laughs. “I don't really know you, but you got me stuff, so it's only polite to get you something. Don't blame me if it sucks though.”
Jason opens the bag slowly to reveal a plastic bag with brownies in and a Red Hood themed lighter. That's actually really funny. He'd laugh is his chest didn't feel so tight.
“Wait, what?” Dick says. Then he pauses. “Oh fuck.”
He looks sad, Jason wants to help, to say it doesn't matter. Duke looks between the two and makes a confused sound. Jason clears his throat slightly.
“It's fine, Dick, don't worry about it,” he says, and he means it, he does. It would've been nice if Dick had remembered, but Jason knew he was hoping too much. It isn't important, it's just a birthday. This, however, doesn't seem to be the right thing to say.
“Of course it matters! I know when your birthday is, Jason, I just-” he groans into his hands. “I forgot today's date.”
Dick looks up at him, asking Jason to believe him, to forgive him. Jason finds that he does.
“It's okay, Dick, I promise. It's not a big deal.”
“Wait, when you said you were buying yourself a gift earlier,” Dick's face falls and he reaches a hand out hesitantly.
“Okay, that was because of Bruce. I already did what I normally do before patrol.”
Duke is still looking between them, probably unsure of what to say.
“Thanks, Duke,” Jason says, his throat still feels tight. His eyes burn a little. He laughs slightly and pulls out the lighter, trying to make things less tense. “Did you really get me merch of myself?”
“Thought you'd find it funny,” Duke smiles, still somewhat awkward. “So, uh, I'll see you around?”
“Sure, I'll let you know how the brownies taste,” Jason confirms. They didn't have a particularly good start, but apparently Duke is at least somewhat forgiving. To be fair, Jason is hard to get along with, he knows that.
“I'll have you know I made them myself,” Duke retorts, still smiling, as he heads towards the stairs. “Oh, also you really need to tell me what's going on with the pendant. I know it's good magic, but I have no clue what it does.”
“Sure, I'll explain it next time I see you.”
When Duke leaves, Jason turns back to Dick, who still looks guilty.
“I really am sorry,” Dick says quietly.
“And it really is okay,” Jason replies. He shifts to hold the bag, lighter tucked back into it, in one hand and opens his other arm up. Dick likes physical comfort, sometimes at least. Jason is almost immediately being hugged. His arm comes to wrap loosely around Dick and Jason lets himself relax a little into it.
This is nice. Dick is warm and solid against him, it loosens the band around his chest and lessens the ache of being forgotten, just a bit. His eyes sting and Jason is so glad he's wearing his helmet.
“Is there still time?” Dick asks, pulling away. Jason mourns the loss for a moment before shining that thought away. He did that for Dick, not for himself. It doesn't matter if he wanted to hold on just a little longer, to feel like maybe he could belong just a moment more. Jason has to earn it. He hasn't yet. Sure, he can bond a little with Duke, but he hasn't hurt the teenager as much as he's hurt Dick. Jason has to try more, before he can earn Dick's affection.
“Time for what?” he asks, voice thankfully not betraying him.
“To get you something, obviously.”
“You don't need to do that, it's fine.”
“I want to,” Dick says resolutely, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like it makes sense for him to want to get Jason a gift. Like Jason deserves it. “What else did you get, I don't want to repeat anything.”
Jason considers lying, he does, but he doesn't. He does have friends, but he honestly isn't sure he even told them his birthday, he doesn't expect them to remember if he did. Besides, contact is sparse at best, they're all busy. It's fine.
“Uh, I got myself cake like usual, and Duke just gave me brownies and a lighter,” it sounds sad when he says it outloud. Jason doesn't think it's that sad, he doesn't care about it. It's not a big deal. Dick looks sad though. “I don't really do much for it, don't think I've actually told anyone when it is in ages.”
He doesn't actually know if anyone asked, but he doubts he did either. Again, they're all busy, himself included. Fighting the Untitled and stuff doesn't leave room for talks about birthdays. He thinks he told Artemis and Bizzaro, maybe, when they found him eating cake in his room. But then they were gone.
“Oh,” Dick slumps a little. “Well, let's go then.”
Jason lets Dick lead him to his bike, Dick's sat just behind it. His bike is apparently remote controlled. Jason's jealous.
“What would you like, Jay?” Dick asks, so genuine that the ache grows even deeper, but also feels like it's being fixed slowly.
Before Jason can think of an answer, Bruce appears.
“What's going on?” he asks, sounding as bland as usual, but Jason thinks he's genuinely curious.
“Uh,” Dick stands there for a moment. Fuck, he's going to say it. Jason doesn't need Bruce to remember, he doesn't. “I'm taking Jay somewhere for his birthday.”
“Oh, right,” Bruce thankfully doesn't seem surprised. “Happy Birthday, Jason.”
Somehow that hurts more. Bruce knew. He just doesn't care. Jason doesn't need gifts, doesn't even want them, but Bruce knew and he'd still interrogated him like Jason hasn't been trying his hardest.
He nods in response, not trusting himself to speak. Whether it's because he'd yell or cry, Jason doesn't know. Either way, it'd ruin everything. He should be grateful Bruce even remembered. Should be grateful he even bothered to say something to him, even if it only happened after Dick mentioned it. Jason doesn't even care, it shouldn't hurt.
He gets on his bike and gestures for Dick to follow. Dick, thank fuck, does, and they zip out of the Cave towards the city.
— —
Dick ends up buying them Batburger. Jason hadn't trusted himself to speak for most of the journey, but ended up telling Dick to choose where they go. Dick seemed happy enough with that and just paid for Jason's meal. They sit on a rooftop in the Alley, not touching, but not distant.
“Thanks,” Jason says, as he unwraps his burger.
“It's your birthday,” Dick says with a soft smile, like it mattered. Like doing this for Jason wasn't a big deal.
“Still.”
Dick's smile turns sad for a moment.
“Happy Birthday, Jay.”