Archive of Our Own

There was something about this job that kept the thrill abiding. It was a dark life, for sure, and no one in their full mind should pursue it no matter the excuses.

Dick was pushed toward it. Bruce was tricked into it. And Jason… well, Jason had just accepted it because at that time it had seemed like the only bright choice left in his life.

Being Robin gives me magic.

And looked what it did to him.

Dick’s mind wandered as he stood in front of David Becker’s grave. FBI. Head of Cyber Division. Nightwing’s informant. 4 years old of friendship and alliance. Dead.

Drawing his eyes after the line of numbers carved on the tombstone, Dick wondered what had driven David to become a federal agent. Their alliance had been purely professional, and Dick had kept his respect to this noble man by containing his instinct to study his past. Of course, David had lied very far from the conception of vigilantism, and perhaps if he had survived, he would have never been one of them either. Still, Dick questioned himself why David had chosen this path, only to receive this ending.

Dick could still feel David’s blood soaking through the lines of his skin, could still see the eyes he had given him when holding tight to his neck where a bullet had punched through. The moment Dick hopelessly held David’s body and tried to pick up what was left of his fading life, it had taken him back to that night so many years ago, when the circus lights contoured on the hollow bodies of his parents and rubbed in the harmony of the desperate 9 years old child’s cry.

He wondered if this was what Bruce felt when somebody died around him. He wondered if Bruce saw his parents too when watching a body fell down, and wondered if this was what drove him to his absurdly prime standards of performance.

The funeral had been quiet, and awkward. None of David’s people knew Dick, none of them knew Dick was the person behind the black and blue and the very same person David had taken three bullets for.

Dick drove back to his apartment with a fuzz in his head and a tingle in his limbs. He got home thinking less of David and more of the 6 feet hole he was lying inside. He thought of how many times he had had to do this, saying goodbyes to the people that were supposed to stay with him until they sent him to the other side, not the other way around.  

“You got back early.”

Dick jerked his head out of the frizz ball of musing. He hadn’t realized Jason was right in front of his eyes, hadn’t noticed how long he had been standing at the doorway.

“Yeah,” He breathed, tugging the tie loose and taking off his jacket. “I don’t feel like I have the right to stay longer than anyone.”

Jason didn’t say, he just stared. For a moment, he had Dick nervous.

He was searching for something, a crack, a breach on Dick’s mask of emotion, so he could dig further, could rip it apart and just ask. “What’s wrong?”

Dick dug his head down and broke the tension. He couldn’t bare himself being exposed, especially at this moment. He didn’t want to be questioned on his behavior. Thinking about death like this, when Jason was the one fighting his way out of his own grave half alive, it felt shameless. It felt wrong.

Dick fled to the bedroom, tugging at his clothes with a smile to cover his naked self in front of Jason’s judging eyes.

This was what funerals did to him. Not just the despair of losing someone, but the impact it left on the living ones. Sorrow was an adaptive feeling, and Dick had been too open to break free from its range.

Jason followed him. He had smelt something wrong on Dick. His furrowed brows foretold a simmering anger.

Dick didn’t know what he did wrong, and that was the worst feeling. Jason had always been hard to read. His varied feelings drawn a puzzling line on a chart Dick could only record.   

“What’s wrong?” Dick asked. He knew Jason wouldn’t answer. He wouldn’t when Dick put it out like Jason was bothering him.

Jason leaned on the door, looked away and pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. He stood like that for a while before a huff pushed out of his lungs, and left.

Dinner was half an hour of eyes gazing and tensing muteness. Dick flicked around his food with appetite gone. Jason seemed less than amused with his attitude but stayed silent.

Dick felt guilty for turning their dinner bitter. He got up first, tried to ignore the way Jason watched after his half empty plate with a frown.

To their both surprise, since Jason abruptly moved in after a serious injury that he wanted to keep off the family’s radar, their live together had been surprisingly easy. They didn’t fight as regular as they thought they would. Dick’s life circled around his daytime job at the station and his Nightwing duty at night, cracking cases and going places occasionally. Jason’s job lessened and simplified to quickie missions, cleaning the house and watching the place in days that Dick went away.  

This in sync lifestyle hadn’t been expected, at least not to Dick. Nearly a year ago, Jason had appeared at Dick’s doorstep, covered in blood and nearly unconscious, refusing to go to hospital or anywhere Bruce might have a hold on. Dick’s calculation had been five weeks until he fully healed. But then three weeks soon escalated into 3 months, 6 months, and then a year had passed with Jason’s belongings fitted into corners of Dick’s apartment like they had always belonged there.

Dick never asked why he stayed. Part of him was afraid he might set the wrong move. He just got Jason’s back into his life, they were in better terms than Dick could ever imagined since Jason came back with the red helmet and an AK over his shoulder, stamping his foot soles on all the rules and trainings Bruce had passed to them.

Maybe it was selfish, keeping Jason all for his own like a dirty little secret. But Jason was… Jason. After all what he had been through, Dick couldn’t let him slip out of his grasp again.

“Jason,” Dick called, back facing the eyes he knew were on him. It took every ounce of courage in him to hesitantly turn back.   

“Don’t ever take a bullet for me.”

It might sound harsh. It might sound arrogant. But after David, it kept him thinking. Being in the same room, sharing an apartment together like right now couldn’t change the visions flashing in Dick’s head over and over again like a kaleidoscope since getting home from the funeral. Green grass and crimson roses. Grey sky and new brown dirt. A coffin lowered down, Jason’s name engraved on the stone.

Years ago, he had died without Dick’s knowledge. Some time later, he dashed back into their life, lively and angry, lonely and damaged. And then one year ago, he came to Dick’s doorstep wearing the shape of the 15 years old ghost left at the exploded warehouse.  

Dick couldn’t lose him now. He couldn’t lose him forever.

Jason stared back at him. The clever blue in his eyes fogged up with confusion. Doubt washed over his face, cracked the ever focus line of his lips.

He must think Dick was crazy. Dick wouldn’t blame him if he did.

A huff was punched out. Jason laughed a short sound that was more confused than amused. “What are you talking about?”

Dick stood frozen by the sink. Jason looked at him like he had lost his mind. He sat on the chair next by their dinner in stained sweatpants and loose t-shirt, but all Dick saw was a stranger in military gear and a red helmet.

The day he came back raining carnages down Gotham’s underworld, wrecking Bruce’s morals and writing his new story with the lead sentence of what had happened that day at the warehouse, Dick had soon learnt to slowly lay the conceited boy who once wrapped in the green and yellow of his youth among the red and blue memories they had scarcely marked, and watched them burn into ashes.

This Jason, as sane and sober from the Pit, couldn’t be the same little Robin who once looked at Dick with heated ears and unnerving eyes.

This Jason who had fired hatred at Dick like the bullets from his guns aiming for his flesh and bone, sometimes wandered in Dick’s apartment dragging the memories they both should have buried away.   

Dick found himself embarrassed, thinking this Jason would ever sacrifice a piece of himself for his life.

Jason must think he had gone crazy when Dick laughed to himself and ran out of his own apartment.

After what Dick had said the other night, Jason had set a watchful eye on his every move. Dick felt embarrassed to even admit what his heart had spoken louder than his mind the other night. He tried to act as if nothing had happened, and prayed to god Jason was a little more forgiving to forget.

Unfortunate for him, mercy was never one of Jason’s strong assets. Dick, caught in his hopeless sense, had chosen work over facing him.  

David Becker might have died investigating a county case, but the BPD didn’t seem to take the event as gravely as they should. Dick had learnt to accept this city had always had more to deal with than a misfortune demise of a federal agent, no matter how big the case was, or how drastic it could guide more influence from the feds.

Their ignorance only did more harm than good, and more job for Dick than any other combined. If the way Amy was looking at him after catching Dick nosed down the twelfth unsolved file in the paper room spoke more of pity than worry, Dick couldn’t blame her.

“Grayson, I know it’s useless trying to get through your thick skull. But you better drop whatever mess you’re digging up before it catches your ass.”

Dick knew this was her way of showing her worry. No matter how hard she masked it behind the tough act, Dick had been a detective for too long to miss out the signs.

“Becker was FBI for 8 years. He came here and risked his own life reviving a case we had given up since 2013. I believe he had a reason.”

“And that same reason has driven him to his own grave. Why can’t you see you’re risking your own life nosing down this shit?” Amy sighed. She looked tired. She hadn’t look tired before she caught him in the paper room, but now she did. “Kid, you’ve got to let it go. Your curiosity is gonna to get you killed like it has killed Becker. You must know it by now, this city isn’t the type of place you can cape up and save the day. It isn’t that simple, and I wish that nutjob in black and blue can see it too.”

Dick tried to laugh it off. “You know me, Amy.”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t.” She looked at him, turning stern. “Honestly, you scare me sometimes. I can’t understand your head. I was once foolish enough to fall for your airhead act, but I’ve been your partner long enough to see through the faces at times. You keep a lot up your sleeves, I know you do.”

“Wow, is it going to rain today or I’m hearing this wrong?”

Amy groaned, rolled her eyes and simply gave up. “You better drop it, you hear me? You’re no good to me dead.”

Dick waved her off with a toothy smile that didn’t last long after her shadow left the floor.

It was about 6:30 when Amy found him at his desk again. Dick wished she hadn’t caught him dozing off by the screen of his computer, but the disapproving look she gave him prove it all.

“You have a guest.”

Dick frowned, taking a look at his watch before washing a hand over his face. David’s case was leading somewhere, but the track was slow and information was too much. He might have to ask Babs for support.

He was about to leave for the door when Amy suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Her face held a gravity that challenged even her boss.

“Be careful. He looks suspicious.”

“He?”

“He said he knows you. But I don’t trust him.”

Dick held no doubt in her instinct. Amy wasn’t just a good cop in term of moral, she was the only one with decent training and a practical pack of skills in this whole department.

They got out together with Amy trailing behind his back like a protective mother watching on her son’s first steps. Whatever mute description Amy had given him on his guest, Dick clearly didn’t expect to see Jason sitting by the bench with arms on his knees, tapping his foot down the floor and facing the reception desk with a blind eye, a biker helmet sat next to him.   

He sat up the moment he turned his head and took in Dick and Amy’s present. Dick lost his word, tongued tied when the receptionist looked at Jason with unnerving eyes.

Amy glanced at him. She stepped out from behind Dick’s shoulder.

“Well, do you know him?”

“Yes‒Yes, he’s my brother.”

Jason’s brows dragged down when he caught the words. Amy turned to look at Dick, doubt painted on her face.

“Brother?” She asked. “You guys don’t look alike.”

“That’s because he’s not.” Jason said. The gruffness in his voice chewed between rage and frustration. He looked angry. He looked displeased. Dick didn’t know what to do if his temper actually burst into rampage.

Jason was the one documented dead and was openly hunted alive for his vigilant attire standing in a police department and dragging all the attention onto him like he owned it. It was absurd that Dick seemed like the only one who cared enough to panic.

Amy looked at him like she demanded answer. At the same time, Jason looked like he was ready to bare his teeth to the rest of the station. Dick was too tired to make out who he should answer first, or which kind of answer either was expecting from him.

The decision was rush, but Dick’s mind was awake enough from the sleep haze to tell Jason was always more of an erratic element to be put first.

“Amy,” Dick sighed. “Can you cover the last shift for me?”

Amy glared back and forth between him and Jason like a hawk. She quirked her eyebrow up, didn’t seem to be pleased with Dick’s reaction.

“Alright then.” She finally decided. If Dick openly exhaled, she didn’t care enough to make a reaction. “Take a day break, you need it. I’ll talk to Chief later.”

She patted his back before leaving. Jason watched them in silent. Dick thanked the holy spirit for at least letting him heave a sigh before Jason stepped closer.

“She’s your partner?”

Dick nodded, swallowed. “Yeah.”

“She’s protective of you.”

Dick almost laughed. “I’d hardly say so. But she’s a good person, and a good cop.”

Jason punched his hand down his pocket, pushed his tongue on his cheek and looked around.

“Why are you here, Jason?”

He shrugged. “I just got back from work, thought I should give you a lift.”

Dick tried not to act scandalous. It wasn’t like Jason to be considerate. Lately, he had been acting strange, more observant and wary. He had Dick on his nerves just being in a same space.

Jason didn’t waste time waiting for Dick’s reaction. He threw the helmet at Dick’s hands, pulling his keys out, twirling them on his finger.

“Come on. We’ll get take out today.”

Dick hesitantly touched the helmet and watched Jason opened the door. Outside, his Harley Davidson parked proudly right next to the pavement, looking sleek as if it had just driven itself out of a showroom, dragging a second look pass their shoulder of every man walking by.

Living with Jason for more or less a year, Dick knew too well how much Jason loved his vehicles. This supposedly fierce vigilante might take the lives of the bad on the streets as lightly as a feather, but could pretty much spend half of his lifetime rambling about automobiles, motorcycles and their engines.  

Behind their backs, Dick’s colleagues were giving them the attention a low budget romcom in a late Saturday night deserved.

Needless to say, there would be a whole new pack of unfolded jokes and rumors about him after today. Dick’s appearance in the Blud department had always been a sore sight and a fresh entertainment to the people in it so far.

“What’s wrong Grayson, leaving so soon? Booty call?”

“What about me? You break my damn heart.”

They laughed with each other, made whistling sounds and eyed down that one particular part of Dick’s body. Dick knew they did, even with his back to them most of the time they were staring, he knew where those unchaste eyes landed.

Jason’s face darkened. The handle he held squealed hopeless sounds under the force of his merciless grip. In a blink of an eye, Dick bolt out the door, dragging the red rampage rising from Jason’s core out of the station.

Jason wrung his arm free once they got on the street, looking at Dick like he asked for blood.

“What the hell was that?”

Dick bit his lips, getting some distance between them. “It’s nothing. You shouldn’t mind that, they say shit sometimes.”

“And you let them? Those guys were staring at you like your worth nothing more than an Alley hooker.”

Dick hastily got a hand on Jason’s chest when he stomped his feet back toward the station with God knew what kind of intention in mind.  

“Jason!” Dick struggled to jump in front of him. “Jason, you can’t make a mess at my work. This is a police station.”

“So? You act like half of them aren’t taking dirty money from local gangs. I don’t know if you’re either naïve or fucking stupid to not realize how fucking fucked up this is.”

“That’s exactly my cover Jason. I’m supposed to not know enough, that’s only why they’ve kept me around for this long. This job has given valuable access to multiple cases and resources that I wouldn’t be able to find on my own. I can’t lose it, not like this, and especially not now.”

Jason finally stopped. He looked at Dick with disappointment pasted on his face. It made Dick cringe. He was used to Jason being angry, not this.

For a moment all Dick could see was himself back in the Cave with Bruce looking down on him, the cowl planted on his head and the air cold around him.

Jason snared a sound that jerked Dick out of his own head. He pulled on Dick’s hand and dragged him to his bike, not saying a single word but taking the helmet out of Dick’s hold. The brush of his hands on Dick’s chin was gentle, despite his raved act before.

Maybe he wasn’t even that angry at Dick. Maybe this was what was wrong with Dick. He had sunk in Bruce’s laws too deep for so long, the bar was set too high. Now freed to the surface, he still couldn’t shake himself off the exalted ideals he imagined people put on him.

“You okay?” Jason asked. His voice didn’t hold much fire as it had just a moment ago.

Dick bathed in his attention with bewilderment. “Yes,” He swallowed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve been acting strange, since the funeral.”

Dick looked back at Jason and wished he was joking. All he took in was how unusually off age Jason seemed wearing an earnest look on his handsome face.

Dick tore his eyes away, trying to get his heart beat back to the rhythm. He didn’t remember himself acting different. He didn’t remember himself acting strange. If anyone, it should be Jason who had been behaving abnormally.

His phone went off. By the sound, the weighted air between them loosened. Jason took a step back. Dick hadn’t realized how close they were.

“This’s Grayson.”

“It’s Babs. About what you’ve texted me, I’ve got something. Are you still interested?”

“What I’ve texted you?”

“Uh, yeah? David Becker, cybersecurity breach, NSA?”

Dick stood frozen for a second. He honestly couldn’t recall texting Babs and calling for help. “Sorry, what do you have for me?”

“Good news and bad news. Good news, I found the guy, code name Texas, he has been hunting down the pass key for the NSA’s code A classification encrypted program since someone in the division anonymously released it out to the network in 2013. Bad news, this guy is good, and he has a team with him. Most crucially, he’s fled the country.”

“Crap. Can you detect him within a day?”

Babs laughed. “Relax, Dick. I’ve already got his move. Lucky for us, he only made it overseas a couple days ago, so the tract is still new. He’s in Beijing, China. But like I said, he’s with a team, professional one. These guys have spent years trying to get the pass code in hand, they’re not going to be an easy game. We’ll catch the jet first thing tomorrow.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. I’m not belittling your cyber-tech skills, but some of these guys are world class malware coders. You might need a hand from someone with a little more… skills.”

“That’s settled then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hung up, huffing. Finally, he was getting close. David could have his justice and the NSA may finally have back what they had mindlessly lost and sacrificed a Federal agent for.

Next to him, Jason stared with a blank attitude.

“That’s the first smile I’ve seen on you since yesterday.”

Dick froze. “No, it’s not. I go to work smiling every day.”

“No, that’s acting. But this, you seem earnest. What’s got you all happy?”

Dick lost his word. He didn’t even realize the crook of his lips had gone up into a smile.

Jason only huffed when Dick stood dumbfounded for too long. He climbed up on his bike, shook his head, grabbed for his own helmet, and pulled on Dick’s hand.

“Hop on.”

Dick listened to his words like a puppy.

Climbing up on his bike and squeezed in the warmth of Jason’s broad back, Dick felt nostalgic of how big Jason had turned up to be, how much time they had missed, and how big the gap between them had opened into a sea. Everyday passing by brought him to the feeling just like right now, dejected and down, facing the man Jason had formed so well to be after all the things he had gone through, and still continued going through at night when soft whimpers and shaken shoulders kept peace away from his sleep.

Jason had been a closed book since the day he came back into his life. Each day spending together, Dick found himself flipping through another forbidden pages of him, finding answers for the questions he didn’t ask, and more questions for the answers he craved.  

Dick watched the streets they zoomed through, blurry lines of life and strangers. Like a sullen oil canvas abandoned in a lighted corner of a museum, the scene kept him thinking and thinking. Dick swam in his thoughts, drowned in poor memories of the older days as he felt Jason’s fingers lightly danced on his hand, pulling him closer.  

In the end, Dick forgot to tell Jason about him going to China. Worse, he only realized it now when staring down at the ringing phone. He had set it on silence throughout the whole mission, only turning it back on when getting back to the hotel. 7 missed calls lined up on each other, Jason’s name branded on each of them, along with the current one on the calling screen.

Dick stared down the phone, swallowed before hesitantly picking it up.

“Hello?”

“This line is internationally connected. Where are you?”

Dick turned on his heels, looking out at the window of Beijing in lights and night. “China.”

Jason stayed quiet. Dick swallowed down a lump in his throat. It must be only morning in Blüdhaven, Dick wondered if Jason had stayed up all night calling him. That seemed unlikely, but it was good for Dick’s imagination.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just‒” Dick stopped, didn’t know how to explain. He couldn’t say he had just forgotten to tell him. In the end, they weren’t that talkative about each other’s business. The closest they had ever got of being intimate to each other’s job was patching up wounds and lending hands at certain difficult times.

Jason was probably just calling to make sure he was still alive.

“Look, I’ll come back once the job is done. If something goes wrong‒”

“Dick?” Babs poked her head in behind the door. “Are you done yet? You need see this.”

“Hang on, I’m coming.”

“You’re with someone?”

“What? Oh, that’s Babs. She’s helping me on this case. God knows I can’t speed it up without her.”

“So you guys went to China together and didn’t tell anyone. Sounds a hell lot like eloping to me.”

“Hey, she’s helping me with David’s case and if there is even a single chance I can find the end of rope that he’s died for, I’ll take it.”

“So that’s it. It’s still about him. All the fusses for a dead man.”

“What are you talking about. David was my friend. He died doing this, he died saving‒” Dick bit on his tongue. He talked too much. Jason didn’t need to hear this much.

Jason stayed silent again. With each drop of their conversation like this, Dick found fell in the void of his own mind. After what he had haphazardly slipped off, he wondered what must be in Jason’s head right now.

“Forget about it.” Was all Jason curtly said before hanging up.

Staring down the phone, Dick hopelessly watched himself reflected on the black screen.

He didn’t know if Jason was mad, if he was, he didn’t sound like it. And if he was, Dick didn’t know why. Part of him wished Jason was mad at him. Anger showed that he cared, even just the slightest.  

Dick sighed and turned on his heels. He hadn’t expected Babs peeking her head through the door again, watching him with blinking eyes.

“Babs!” Dick whined tiredly.

“I know, I know. Sorry, but you really need to see this.”

Dick sighed and followed her to the study. “What do you have?”

“A move. This is outside of our prediction. Seems like our buddy Texas decided to bring the pass key out of his society group. 3 minutes ago, he sneaked out of his hotel room and got a cab. I’ve got license plate and surveillance footage. According to his path and the map description, looks like our target is moving to the Capital Museum. Traffic and route map calculation shows we have 20 minutes before he reaches his destination. Our jet should be able to make it in 5.”

“Do you think he has the pass code with him?”

“Possibly. We’ve watched him all night. His team so far has had a possession of the pass key for over 4 days, yet they haven’t made a move on it. Maybe he’s looking for consult?”

Dick hummed. “Texas is the leader, he’d have told his crew if planning this. He’s left them back. He’s going solo.”

“Maybe the pass code is too valuable to be shared in the end.”

“Maybe, or maybe he has other reasons. If Texas really meant to flee with the passcode, he would have gone to the airport instead of the museum. He’s meeting someone.”

“A client.”

Dick nodded.

“But why would they go to China in the end? They came here to keep passcode safely theirs and now Texas is selling it to someone else? Why not doing it right in the US the moment he had the passcode in hand? Why coming with the team all the way here?”

“He’s more invisible out of the States, my bet is that his team is to bit time until the next tracers arrive. The race for the key has been savage, whoever get their hands on it would be everyone’s target. China is half a world away, and it’s where all the possible highest bidders cluster in.”

Babs bit her lips. She laid back on the chair and turned up to look at Dick.

“This is getting flimsy. If there’s a client, there would be an army. We’re not ready for this.”

“There’s no time for backup now. I’ll go get the jet.”

“Dick.” Babs grabbed on his wrist, pulling him back. “Tell me this isn’t a vendetta.”

“It’s not.” Dick snapped. He looked at Babs’s reaction and faltered. “I’m sorry. It’s just‒ I need this. Please, let me get the jet.”

For a moment, everything was out in review. Babs eyed him like she wanted to flay him open for a clue. This was what terrible working in the line full of egoistic detectives, it turned life into an aberrant game of pretense and lie.

Babs finally let go, even when she seemed reluctantly to.

“Be careful.” She said.

That was all Dick could ask for.

Mission didn’t end well.

Dick cursed when he missed the key hole three times and dropped the key at the fourth try. Coming back with a broken arm, three cracked ribs, a missing teeth and a black eye was embarrassing enough that Dick did his best to refuse Babs’ offer to take him home.

Balancing the stack of papers and envelopes on his good hand, Dick groaned when lowering down to pick up the key, and was on the fifth attempt with the door when Jason sprang it open, jointing him up by surprise.

“Hi.” Dick sheepishly greeted, awkwardly shifting on his legs when Jason scanned him from top to toes.

Jason looked as if he was punched in the face. Wide eyes and mouth agape, he didn’t even put effort in hiding how surprised he looked.

Dick must look worse than he thought he did.

“Get inside.” Jason barked out, dragging Dick in.

Dick fumbled to follow his steps. The stack of document on his hand fell down the shiny wooden floor. Dick asked himself if his absence in the apartment had driven Jason to be a clean freak. Only until Dick hissed out in pain for his wounded ribs, did Jason abruptly let go.

Jason swallowed loudly and closed their distance, wide blue eyes staring at Dick the whole time. He stepped until all Dick could feel was his radiant heat and flavored scent.

Jason had always smelled exactly how Dick didn’t expect him to. Like burned coal and cool mint when he was clean at home, musky and strong after working out, and sometimes a whip of metallic gun power blasted on his skin after a night out. He smelled like a man. He smelled like a story, like the mixed alcohol he downed occasionally.

Dick remembered he used to smell different. Sweeter. Younger. Less like a grown up.

Dick openly shivered when Jason’s hand ran on his waist, tugged at his shirt, and pulled it up. The bruise that took over two third of his side had turned dark and yellow, a mess of broken blood veins and ripped muscles blooming under his skin like spoiled ink.

He bit his lip when Jason caressed his fingers over the wound. Calloused skin drew gentle lines that danced on the border line of their relationship.

Jason only looked down on the mixed color bruise, head hung low for their height difference. His brows knitted together, nose crunched. He reacted as if he was the one who wore the wound. “What happened?”

“Hired assassins. Turned out a lot of dark names also want what I was looking for.”

Jason tested the ribs with a light press. He frowned harder when Dick made a punch out noise and leaned away. Jason’s hand got his back, palmed down the lower curve and kept them close together.

“Jason…” Dick whispered, trying to catch Jason’s roaming hand. “Hurts.”

Suddenly, Dick was up in air. It was so fast, so much of a shock that when himself was sat down the kitchen island, Dick was still struggling to process what just happened.

“Stay still.” Jason said non too gently.

He left the thin space they shared and made a tour to the fridge. He came back seconds later, an ice pack in hand.

“You don’t need to. I already‒”

Dick gasped and shook violently when Jason pressed the cold pack right onto his side. He twisted his fingers into Jason’s shirt, toes curled and shoulder hunched. The cold sipped through his skin, burning.

He felt Jason’s warmth wrapped around him, more tingling that the bite of the ice on his skin. Jason’s hand palmed down his lower back, big and reassuring. Dick felt small and naked bathed in his unwanted attention.

Slowly laying his head down Jason’s chest, Dick listened to the healthy rhythm of his heart. His skin felt numb, and so did his brain. Jason’s hand moved up, toying with the end of Dick’s nape, twirling his hair. Baked in this bumbling feeling, they held onto each other, and let the silence did the talking.

The rest of the week of Dick’s healing process had felt like a vivid fever dream. Jason reacted violently every time Dick mentioned patrol or stake out. On his own behave, Dick swallowed down the thought of arguing and instead moved everything left of David’s case to the living room and the coffee table. Despite Jason’s disapproving attitude every time he caught him working over the night trying to fill up reports, he hadn’t made a single comment so far.

Dick was just dozing off in front of his laptop and next to a mug of cool Earl Grey when he jerked up by the feel of a hand on his cheek. Dick sucked in a breath, blinking a few times at the sight of Jason’s staggered look in front of his eyes.

Jason froze at Dick’s reaction. Sweat rolled off his forehead, blinking under the dim moonlight crawling pass their window. Dick stared at the teal blue in his eyes, wondering if he was hallucinating if he saw them glowed.

Up this close, so close, Dick realized again and again how well Jason had grown. How those fine lines on his face now blended in so well together. His nose got higher than when he was just a kid, even the small bump on it seemed charming. He had gotten so handsome while he was away.    

Dick could watch him all day and drowned in these thoughts, but Jason was looking at him the same way he had looked at him these past days, unsure and hesitant. He acted as if Dick was a fading ghost made out of his unsought delusion.

“You’re back.” Dick licked his lips. He licked them again when he noticed the way Jason’s eyes followed his darting tongue.

“Yeah.” Jason pulled back finally. “Job went well I guess.” He looked down at the cold mug of tea on the table, scattered around were papers and notebooks, pens and flash drives. “Have you eaten anything all night?”

“Well…” Dick shrugged. He knew he couldn’t lie, not with Jason living under the same roof and being the only person actually touched the kitchen.

Jason sighed. He looked down on the mat like giving up. He was still in his jacket, his hood rested on the couch just a couple steps away.   

He acted worried, and that scared Dick. There were boundaries they drew, iron walls they grew since the moment Dick realized Jason didn’t have any intention of moving out soon after his recovery. It helped simplify things Dick shouldn’t have needed to put restraints on.

The less they talked, the less they knew. The less they shared, the less they had to lose when things crashed and burnt.

Dick wasn’t foolish enough to believe a future when the day Jason left him behind wouldn’t come. He knew he couldn’t stop the closure they had formed together from where their differences collided.

One day he would wake up knowing Jason wouldn’t be outside doing pushups in the living room, breakfast wasn’t ready and coffee didn’t simmer and season the air. One day he would be able to come back to Gotham with a light shoulder and head held high, knowing he had got nothing to hide and no guilt weighing down his chest anymore.

Jason was never meant to be his little secret forever, and neither should he be.

“You should eat.” Jason got up, dragging himself toward the kitchen. Dick watched after him, taking too long to notice the trickle of blood following his steps.

“Jason!” Dick sprang to his feet, almost tripped over himself when blood forcibly rushed to his head, blinding his vision temporary. “You’re bleeding!”

Jason looked as if he was about to dash over and catch something falling down. He seemed stunned for a moment, before gazing down his jacket. A rip tore a pinch size on the arm of his jacket apart, through the hole, blood oozed out and dribbled down the floor.

“Ah fuck.” Jason swore. “Sorry, I’ll clean that later.”

“What are you saying? Let me see that.” He didn’t wait for Jason’s approval and took the jacket off for him.

“It’s just a nick. Lucky hit, no bullet inside.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, my back hurt like hell.”

Dick sighed. “Take your armor off.”

Jason clicked his tongue, looking away. He acted annoyed but didn’t tell Dick to fuck off, and for that, Dick appreciated. He used to be less corporative, much harder to handle. It used to be a dream, touching Jason’s wounded skin like an archeologist digging through the skeleton of a thousand years old civilization.

There was a time when he acted furry of being revealed, running out of the house in the middle of the night because a shout had cracked and escaped through the nightmares. Dick never asked what he saw when his eyes closed, the ghouls from the past, dark dirt and the grave, green pit and cotton lungs, or the shadow of an open ground, where good memories clustered and burst into flame once the time bomb clocked out.

That vulnerable time felt just like yesterday. And even until today, Dick still asked himself over and over again watching Jason peeling off different layers of skin to cover these cuts and burns he had collected through time, is it okay for me to stay, is it okay to look at you naked?

Is it okay to love?   

Trailing down the purple and blue bruises that spilled on thick muscles of Jason’s chest, Dick knew he was crossing lines, playing games with the close future.

“I thought you said tonight went well?”

Jason only grunted. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“Jason.” Dick hissed. He hoped Jason understand the drag of his brows meant he didn’t take that joke lightly.

Dick went to get the aid kit. Everything clicked in like a primer lesson, needle and bandage, pain killer and alcohol. Alfred taught him how to do first aid at the age of 9, Bruce taught him how to patch himself up at the age of 12. Growing up in the Manor, maturing up in the Cave, Dick learnt how to do surgery on a grape in the kitchen, master the locations and names of each bone in his body after countless times of damaging them and watching them scanned in the med bay. At the age of 18, living by himself, torn between responsibility as Nightwing, and duty as a law enforcer, Dick learned by himself some wounds were just better slept off than to be dealt with.   

That lifestyle was unhealthy, but things had changed since he founded Jason. Dick couldn’t remember the last time he passed out feverish on the couch, shivering in tattered uniform and waking up not being able to recall half of the things had happened the night before. The only last thing he remembered of waking up these days, was memory of Jason’s stone figure watching him on bare feet in the middle of the room.

Dick jointed when a hand pressed at his cheek. Jason looked down on him, his face twisted into a form Dick couldn’t recognize.

“What’s in your head?”

Many things. “Nothing.” Dick smiled.

“You were spacing out.”

“I’m just… thinking.” Dick wrapped the final round of bandage around Jason’s bicep then cut the cloth. The wound should be fine if Jason stopped doing heavy lifting for a week or so.

“You’ve been thinking a lot lately. Does patching me up reminds you of Becker?”`

Dick stared dumbfounded at Jason. “N‒ No… God, no. Why would you bring him into this?”

“Because a lot of things seem to circle around him lately.”

The words struck him. Dick’s heart skipped before his mind worked out. “How can you say that? David was my friend.”

“No. He was your informant, someone you’d have barely contacted if things didn’t turn into shit and those federal assholes didn’t need some informal help. But he died, and you acted like you’ve lost a part of yourself.”

“All the shits you’ve put yourself through the past month for him, it’s ridiculous. This isn’t about you mourning for Becker, this is about you feeling guilty. You’re doing this not because Becker was important to you, you’re doing this because he died, and he died saving you.”

Jason spat each word out like they were poison on his tongue. He bit and exploded, eyes glowing green from what was left of the Pit inside him. Dick stood helpless letting each sentence sink through his skin and bite his bones, consuming his lungs and eating his organs.

It hurt, knowing Jason was right in the cruelest way, knowing someone’s death didn’t mean as much as it should in comparison to the sin you had achieved.

Jason’s jaw went slack. He suddenly looked as pale as a ghost.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I‒ I didn’t mean to. I just…”

He spluttered and shook. It was an odd scene to watch, this vulnerable side of an iron man.

“Jason,” Dick reached out, taking in his large shaken hand. A part of him craved to hug Jason, but a part of him knew he wasn’t allowed to. “It’s okay. What happened tonight?”    

“No, it’s not okay. Don’t… don’t deny yourself to cover my mess.”

“Jason,” Dick pressing hands tighter around Jason’s. “What happened?”

Jason swallowed. Dick watched his Adam apple popped a few times before Jason’s looked away like hiding himself.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. But someday you’re going to have to open up to let someone in, because this,” He poked at Jason’s chest, where his heart lied. “This’s got limits of itself. Keep pushing those limits and one day you might explode, or worse, you might implode. Bundling things up is never a good way to heal, it’ll just add more into the wound.”

Jason scoffed. “You’re one to talk.”

“I’m speaking this from experience. I don’t want you to be me. I want you to be better. You are better, you just have to let yourself accept it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Jason smirked. He acted half-heartedly when subjected like this danced around his own benefits. Dick didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that Jason had gotten used to this disregard of care, or the fact that he thought he deserved it.

Bruce would never see, would never allow himself to see this side of Jason, this side that was still very much the boy he had taken out of Crime Alley on impulse. Jason had come back different, too different that it probably stung too much for Bruce to even call him their Jason again.

Dick wasn’t Bruce. He was ready to peel off his own skin patching on the bleeding holes Jason had come back with. And if life after death was more frightening than resting ingenuously under 6 feet ground, Dick was greedy enough to spend his life honeying speeches and dreams, so he could have Jason stayed.

“Then I’ll make you.” Dick smirked. He looked up into Jason and watched his pupils blown. “I’ll do until you’re just as much of a bighead as Damian.”

Jason knocked his head backward and laughed. Dick’s chest jingled by the warm sound. He realized Jason looked breathtaking when carefree. He wanted Jason to always look like this.

He didn’t get when Jason had wormed a hand down the small of his back, but the light push of it urged him to fell closer to Jason’s heated chest. It felt good, sinking in everything of Jason like it was where he belonged, too good that as scandalous as this might seem, Dick let himself be ignorant.

“You say the prettiest shit, Dickie. But I’m a lot to deal with. I do shit. I talk shit, you of all should know that.”

“You’re not as bad as you act like. You just need someone patient enough to see through the anger and understand.”

“And what if I can’t find that someone?”

“Then I’m willing to stay here until they find you.”

Moments like this answered why Dick drew lines in this shared life. Jason’s slow smile shadowed down on him, tepid and sweet like the last light casting down Gotham before sundown. This shade of him, Dick wanted it to be exclusive, only to him. And wasn’t that dangerous. These sentimental moments they shared fed on Dick’s greed to monopolize Jason.

Jason suddenly leaned down, down and down until their lips touched. Dick’s heart skipped.

The kiss was everything one could never expect from Jason. A light touch of the lips. A shy dart of the tongue. It was short and gentle, almost as skittish as asking for permission.

Dick stood frozen with Jason’s palm spread on his back. He felt Jason’s heartbeat on his hands, a loud rhythm of life hammering through muscles and scars.

On the wall, the clock was ticking. Outside, a loud clash of someone broke a glass and a curse followed behind. The night was coming to an end, but if time was just a cassette played on an old radio player, he would choose to replay this moment over and over again.

“You know, I can never tell what would happen talking with you.” Jason whispered down his neck. Dick sucked in a breath when Jason sucked a hard bite right down his jawline. “You’re supposed to be mad at me, not giving me therapy talk like this.”

Jason’s other hand left the kitchen counter and gripped on Dick’s waist, pulling him flushed to his naked chest. The sudden skin contact shocked Dick.

“If you keep letting me do this every time, I might get the wrong idea.”

What kind of wrong idea? Dick didn’t dare to ask.

This wasn’t their first kiss, but it should be their last. This ugly habit they grew from the nutrition of desolation, bloomed solidly after time and climbed through the iron fences their conscience built like poison ivy.

In the end, they were just lost stars floating in the abyss, finding each other unwittingly. Together they drifted, two parallel paths they went. Coming too close, they would clash. An explosion, a flash of light and fire, cracked love and half-hearted bond, shared kisses and wanton eyes, but that would be all. Like matches burning to the end, after the moment, they felt further from each other, drifting away, never meeting again.

It was nice to shine, it was nice to let go. But Dick rather hold back and be close just like now, toying with the boundaries and playing house, rather than crash and never meet again.  

“Can I be with you tonight? I just want to sleep.”

He kept asking for permission, he kept asking for help. Dick couldn’t say no, he had never been able to, not to him, not to Jason.

“Of course.”

Jason carried him to the bedroom, and as the door shut, they watched these lines between them fade again.

“So that is it for Becker’s case, right?”

Dick threw a punch. It landed right and knocked the thief of his feet. His body had been caged in the limited space of his apartment for too long, it felt nice heating every muscle up again. His bones could probably take some casual patrols. And if they couldn’t, well, Dick had been on bench too long to care anyway.  

“Yeah, that should be it. I’ve already finished my report, dropped some notification for the feds. It should be a closed case in their bank by now.”

Babs was probably done with her part of cleaning what was left in the network. David’s job had always been humongous, but helping solve the case he had left behind before leaving this world was the least thing Dick could do to sleep easier at night.

“You know, when you first asked for my help in this, I was worried.”

“About what?”

“About you. Your head was… somewhere else. You’re usually energetic, that’s what makes you so special when being next to Bruce. But the whole time in Beijing, you were drowning. You were so exhausted it was obvious to see. The only reason I agreed to do this till the end was because you seemed so desperate to finish it on your own.”

Dick didn’t talk back. He couldn’t if he wanted to. Years of knowing each other had given Babs the ability to read through the roles he dressed on.

“But that was back then. I’m glad for you now. You seem… well taken care of.”

Dick frowned. “What do you mean?”

There was a beat of silence. Long enough for Dick to climb up on a roof and watched the sky.

“I came by your place the other day. You weren’t there, Jason opened the door.”

Dick froze. Shaking, he ripped the bud off his ear to check if their link was private.

“That‒ You came to my place?”

“You left some of your files on the jet. I came to give them back to you. You were probably at the station at that time, Jason had looked like he was expecting someone else.”

Dick bit his tongue. A million excuses skimmed through his head, and a million times they all sounded utterly stupid to believe.

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not like that.”

“Dick, he went answering the door half naked holding a milk carton. I don’t need to think, I know.”

“Know what? There’s nothing to know about.”

“You’re acting ridiculous. Stop testing me, I’m just relieved you finally let someone into your life again.”

“So… you’re not gonna ask why?”

Babs scoffed. “You’re so oblivious it hurts to watch. This is probably better for you to figure on your own, but listen. That guilt of yours, it’s eating you alive. You need to let it go, or at least, let someone take it off for you. Jason is probably not the best choice, but at least he’s there, and he’s willing.”

Willing? No, Dick trapped him into it. He had first come to Dick for recovery, a safe place to rest and heal until he could kick and roar again because Dick was a city away from where the Bat’s darkness invaded. But instead, Dick bounded him to his life playing games they both knew they shouldn’t.

Soon enough, Jason would find this shared space of them too suffocating to stay. But until then, Dick cherished every moment he got home knowing Jason still wander around somewhere in his apartment, moving things, cleaning stuff, leaving his mark of existence into the coffer of memories Dick collected while waiting for the end.

“It’s good to know you have someone watching after for. I used to believe I could do it, but we both know how that ended.” Babs kept a second of silence. She was thinking, remembering. Dick wished he could be there with her.

“You’re always my special someone, Babs.”

“And you’re always mine too, Boy Wonder. But I’m always going to be the right person that came at the wrong time. If now is the right time, don’t hesitate. Jason is different. He’s broken in a different way than me. But maybe his pieces will fit yours.”

“I hope so. God, I hope so, but this is‒” Dick watched the sky, saw the stars, and suddenly wanted to cry. “He wouldn’t. That’s not like him. It’s cliché enough that he’s stayed until now. I can’t ask for more.”

“Oh Dick, I wish I can explain. But this isn’t really my place to say. You just have to trust me.”

“I always trust you.”

“Then that should do. I should get going. But remember what I say. Goodnight Boy Wonder.”

“Goodnight, Babs.”

Dick watched the city in lights when the link shut cold.

If night was Gotham’s criminal golden time, Metrolpolis’ was broad daylight, then the prime hours for lawbreakers in Bludhaven was the clash of day and night, the last few hours between sun down and lights on.

He jumped down on a fire escape watching a damp alley, listening to the goons of a local gang snickering after a lost lady in knee skirt.

This sort of situation happened all the times, and pretty much all of them wore the same patterns. Work ended late, company uniform, an alley that was a new found short cut to the rented apartment. She was pretty, fiery red hair and pale freckled skin just like Babs. But Babs was, well, Babs, those goons would probably lose their teeth before they even got a hand on her.

Dick jumped down the alley.

“Lady, it would be better if you turn around and walk a different path than this one.” He pulled out his escrimas. “You should consider that every day from now on.”

If the movies made people think fighting was all the same, just throwing punches and heading first to the fight. It was terribly wrong. Every body was unique, in shape, size, structure. Different people took the same hit differently.

Body analysis was a prime art in real life combat, was what Dick had learnt by himself through time. Unlike Jason who loved the art of violence displayed by his own hands, Dick customized each fight with his own signature. Fight right, then it wasn’t only safer, but also cleaner.

The first one came over, above 6 feet, built like a bear with a belly that signaled the overuse of alcohol. Wrestling in sheer strength would only put Dick down the ground and send him home tattered. Guys like him put too much power on the upper half, a simple kick in the knee sent him down like a sawed tree.

There was another one, thinner, shorter. He would only charge out this boldly after watching his oversized friend came down like a lock with a weapon hidden somewhere behind his back. A gun would take distance, a knife required close combat.

Dick slid down the ground and kicked him in the stomach before he could even pull whatever behind his back out.

Two went down, three more to go. The show went on.

Jason dropped down from nowhere when the last goon hit the ground. Dick felt sweat sprayed on his skin, glistering cold when meeting the night temperature.

He felt oddly satisfied. His muscles screamed of joy getting a decent work out after such a long time. If he had anything to complain, it would be the swelling shock of cold wind against the fading heat on his skin.

“You seem fine tonight.” Jason walked over. He didn’t pop open his helmet. That was probably a good call, they were still out on the street.

“Yeah, I feel great.”

Dick couldn’t tell, but he had a feeling Jason was smiling back.

Jason had been acting… strange. He had acted strange before, since David and all, but now, he was even stranger. He acted caring, doing odd things that would probably urge people to mistake their relationship.

Dick wondered what he was trying to gain, pouring this much effort out.  

“You’re done yet?”

“Probably. There’s nothing for tonight.”

Since Jason moved to Bludhaven, Dick had refused to let him put on the same display of power he had put on Gotham. Bludhaven was no Gotham, it was Dick’s city, Nightwing’s territory.

Lucky for him, Jason hadn’t made a complain about it, but the news of the appearance of Red Hood here had spread fast and steady over the year. Crime rate had gone significant low, most leftover criminals of Gotham that had refuged here chose to lay low or pack up and leave again.

They were terrified of Jason so much that it made a drastic different in such a small time. After all, Nightwing had always been just more or less an outlaw enforcer, beating them up, sending them to prison, hoping they have learnt the lesson.

Red Hood was a completely opposite case. He was the bloody punisher, one that did things even Batman couldn’t.

“You’re coming back?”

“I think so. Still early enough for a late dinner, I guess.”

“Wrap this up then. My bike’s just by the corner.”

Dick blinked. His mouth hung open. “You‒ You’d drive me back?”

Jason turned on his heels. He looked at Dick and said nothing for a minute.

“Got a problem?”

“No… No, I guess.”

Jason didn’t say much, he just stared. Dick felt naked, vulnerable under his watching gaze without the ability to know, to read what was on Jason’s mind.

He read people, that was what he did. Facial expression, body language, anything.

Standing in front of Jason like this made him felt uneasy.

He followed Jason steps. Jason had handed his palm out like wanting Dick to take it, but that was just too much. Dick walked pass him and chose to ignore the way Jason stood frozen behind.

This game, Dick could play, but he had limits. Jason couldn’t walk him around acting gentle and kind like handling out a bone.

“Nightwing!”

Dick could only catch a call.

It was too fast, and suddenly the world was spinning. Jason’s body crashed on his. A loud bang rung the air.

From afar, birds flew off into the inky sky.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yes, you have been bitching about it the last two hour. Can’t you just stitch me up in peac-Motherfucker!”

Dick pulled the bandage extra tight and watched Jason bit his teeth and gripped on the kitchen counter like he wanted to rip it off.

He stayed quiet when Jason wrung his arm free, threw his shirt down the floor, and knocked down the whole bottle of whiskey that Dick had mindlessly pulled out to sterilize the wound.

The hole was small, nothing too major. Small bullet, medium firepower, stereotype for cheap easy to get pistols. Jason would live, he had taken way worse before, a week without weight lifting wouldn’t kill him. But it wasn’t fair, Dick was scared shitless that the panic clogged his airway and made him felt dizzy.

The moment the shotgun fired, he had seen David again. Everything scrolled back to the past like a rewind tape.

Dick threw the blood soaked cloth down the sink with frustration and left the kitchen. He tore and stretched the collar of the uniform, suddenly felt strangled in his own suit.

“You’re going to rip it apart if keep doing that.”

“Shut up.”

He stomped into the bedroom, wriggling in the suit on every step. Peeling it off had never felt more relieving and painful at the same time. Stood naked in the cold room, Dick wondered what the hell he was doing, staring down the bundle of black and blue stained by Jason’s blood.

By the door, Jason pinned his eyes on him like asking for questions. He didn’t say a word, but god, he was thinking out loud.

Dick sucked in a breath, bit his lips, and squeezed his eyes. “Just give me a minute. I need to be alone.”

“For what? Why are you mad at me in first place? I saved your fucking life.”

“Jason, go away.”

Jason huffed. His lips crooked up mockingly.

“What? Not so open now? You’re the one who gives shit talk about letting people in, when all you’re good at is pushing everyone away.”

“You jumped out at bullet point! What is wrong with you?”

Jason turned red. He stomped over furiously.

“What is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you ! I saved your damn life. If I weren’t there that goon would have shot your head off because you didn’t have the guts to finish them in the first place.”

It was Dick’s fault to turn on his back. It was his fault to not check on the enemies. If the bullets were out and meant to be his, it was his wrong doing, not Jason’s.

“I don’t need a protector. I don't need another‒”

David appeared in his mind again, the same way he had in his dreams in the last month. He died, but he never left. Bits of him still lingered in Dick’s life like a torturous reminder of his failure, one that had cost a man his life.

Jason punched out a laugh. Sarcasm and anger coated his voice like burning acid. “Look at your face. You’re thinking of him again, aren’t you? It’s always gonna be about Becker, right? Always gonna be that dead man that turns you into a living ghost these days.” His mouth crooked up but his brows dragged down. Tormented by his own words, Jason looked torn and betrayed. “Tell me, was he ever really just a friend?”

The words struck him. Dick stumbled back, trying to collect a comeback.

“I’m done talking. You just took half a clip, you probably have a concussion.”

“Fuck you!” Jason screamed. He suddenly dashed over, went for Dick’s neck. His fist swallowed Dick’s windpipe that set him on full alarm. His eyes glowed green, his fist went veiny. Strange enough, the grip on Dick’s throat felt too loose in comparison with his boiling rage.

“I saved your goddamn life not so you can think of another man. You’re the one who put your ass out on display in spandex. If weren’t for my armor, if I didn’t jump out… you think it’s all gonna be it? He took a bullet for you, but so did I.”

“I don’t need you taking bullets for me.”

“Fuck you, I’d jump head first to a train for you if I must.”

They stared at each other in astonishment, feet rooted down the floor as time halted. Jason lit fire in his eyes, lavishing Dick’s soul, forcing him to see. All at once, the world was spinning.

Dick felt dizzy. He felt lost, right in this surreal veracity they were trapped in.

“Why?” Dick whispered. Broken words felt off the tip of his tongue. “Why would you do that?”

The hand on his neck dropped. Jason’s face twisted into wrinkled lines, sorrow feature.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

A millions reason went through Dick’s head, flashes from the past and memories of the present. But then Jason’s face right in front of him spoke of something else. Something alien about this wrecked pain he put on that set Dick’s off his mind.

He answered Dick with a question that carried the weight of their one year blurry relationship. It should feel airy, it should be easy, yet it ached like millions broken pieces of the iron walls Dick manually built to protect their bond, all coming down on him, crushing him alive.

He didn’t want to crash. He didn’t want to let go.   

“I can’t lose you.” Dick whispered.

“What?”

“I can’t lose you. You‒ You’ve gone before, and once was enough. I finally have you back, I finally be able to make it right. I can’t let you die saving me. I can’t let you be another David.”

The world spun, his hands went up, covering his blurry vision of where he was floating in this reality. His knees shook, his lungs tightened, thinking about all those time they had lost when Jason were just Robin, and those memories they had collected in the last year.

He didn’t want it all to end, didn’t want to look at Jason from afar one day and know they used to have something.

It suddenly took too much to stand. Jason let him slid down the floor, shivering. And if his tears paint dark spots down the matt, he didn’t make a comment.

Dick felt dying. He felt like closing his eyes, tugging his knees into his chest and hiding his head down in between. Just like that, he could escape from existence, kept on falling in a chasm where no one could find.

“Dick.”

Dick curled himself together even tighter. He felt embarrassed. He felt like disappearing.

“Dick, come on.” Jason called again. Dick could feel him squatting down right in front of him, leaning in so close. “Look at me, please.”

“No.”

“You can’t push me away, Dick. Not in this life, not forever. I won’t let you.”

Jason pulled at Dick’s hands, unfolding them despite Dick’s refusal.

“Look at me, Dick. Look at me.” Jason didn’t wait for an answer, he didn’t wait for Dick to move. He went on and grabbed Dick’s chin, pulling his face up until all he could see and feel was Jason’s gentle smile and familiar warm breath.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not.”

“So this is sweat coming out from your eyes? Okay then, are you that afraid of losing me that your eyes are sweating?”

Dick wanted to hit Jason. He bit his lips and nodded.

Jason’s reply came out as a big smile and a warm exhale. He looked happy, gosh he looked so happy he was practically radiating in the dark room.

“Dick, have you ever considered that I’m afraid of losing you too?”

Dick looked up at his eyes. They spoke honestly, they spoke love. They terrified him.

“What?”

“You’re a pain in the ass, Dickie. You always think too much, you always think for others too. You just can’t let me love you like a normal person, do you?”

“Because you don‒”

“That’s the thing, Dick. You always jump around and treat me like a time bomb. You never listen. You don't let me explain. You just can’t let me treat you anything more than what I’ve given you when I first came back half insane. In your head, I’ve been nothing more than just the angry Red Hood and the broken dead boy you never really get to know.”

The first time in his life, Dick had ever seen Jason so open. Everything of him, his simmering pain, his genuine desperation, his fierce love, it was all out and revealed. He wasn’t just speaking with his mouth, he was speaking with his whole body.

“No,” Dick whisper, openly shivered when Jason’s hands came up, holding his face tenderly. “You are… you are so much more. I miss the young you that I’ve lost, and sometimes, just sometimes, I’m scared of the Red Hood you’ve come back as. But this you is who I love, this present you is someone I finally get to know. I’ve fallen for you, no one else.”

Jason smiled again. Dick didn’t know why he was shaking, why he still felt like disappearing yet craved for Jason to never let go of him.

All those walls and fences they have built in the last year, all the lines they had drew out in order not to get hurt, or worse, not to hurt the other. Tonight, they all fumbling apart, their dynasty of aegis and solitary.

“It’s time, Dickie. It’s time for you to finally let the ones you love, love you back.” Jason’s thumbed ran over his bottom lip, caressing.

Dick’s guts flared up fire. Everything inside felt like bursting. He wrapped himself around Jason, letting his embrace carry him to solace.

“I love you.”

Jason held him, tighter and tighter.

“Me too, Dickie. Me too, since I was fifteen.”

They spent the night holding each other. Outside, the moon casted down, contouring on the bounded heart. Inside, they took each others hand climbing through the debris of their crumbled walls citadel.

“You look better.”

Amy fixed her coat and dropped a smile while walking along. Dick for once learnt she could look soft and adoring smiling like this.

“Did I look worse before?”

“Yes. But you seem happier now, less… devourable.”

Dick laughed. “Devourable?”

“Why do you think those fuckers in this place suddenly stop making fun of you? You were pretty and lonely, that made you an easy target. But now, you just look pretty… prettier if I might say, and that set people off. As your long-term partner, I can tell someone is taking well care of you.”

Dick swallowed. Of course Amy would figure it out.

“I didn’t know you care.”

Amy laughed. “You know too much that you don’t know shit, Grayson. But don’t worry, it’s about time you stop thinking too much. You’re young, enjoy it while you still can.”

Dick loosened his collar. He thought about Jason, thought about how they had spent the last couple of days wrestling in bed, making love so furiously as if making up for the lost time. The hickeys Jason left on him suddenly flared up in flame underneath the layer of his uniform.

He gulped. “I think I’m enjoying it too much.”

Amy stared, and abruptly, she was staring for too long. Dick immediately slapped at the spot where her eyes landed on his neck, blushing fervidly.

Amy huffed and chuckled. “Youngsters.”

Jason was already sitting on the bench, waiting by the door when they got out of the office. He tapped his feet down the floor, entwining his fingers together as the receptionist trying to get used to the sight of size taking over the space. Jason was a large man. He came back tall and big and crazingly bulk it made Dick’s stomach clenched thinking about his body last night above him.

“Your not‒brother is here again.” Amy said with a quirk of eyebrow.

Around them, Dick’s colleagues stared at Jason but didn’t make a comment. They probably learnt Jason’s second appearance here after a while meant their relationship ran deeper than whatever flimsy image they had in the first place, and it was way better to stay away rather than get into possible trouble with a man looking as daring Jason.

In a city ruled by crime, the cops knew their limits.

Jason looked up and saw them. The first moment he smiled, Dick knew he was never going to get used to this gentle side of him.

Amy turned to look at him. Her eyes dashed back and forth before looking away with a smirk.

“I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dick answered quickly with a brush crept up, burning his whole face and ears. He pulled Jason out of the door swiftly with him casually waving off at Amy with a cocky smile.

They didn’t even get to the bike when Jason’s hands were all over Dick, turning him back and close. His fingers crawled up Dick’s neck, brushing over the left over hickey of their morning round. Dick shivered when the image rushed to his mind.

They were out on the open street, but Jason didn’t seem to care. And perhaps, perhaps this was what Dick had been too blind to figure out. Perhaps this was what Babs meant when she begged him to trust her.

Jason’s bravery and compassion. They were fiery, fanatical. They swallowed Dick up and held him down, swore to never let him go.

Dick had thought he could be an anchor to tie Jason back into this life, but maybe Jason was his anchor to stay in this reality.

Jason put the helmet on him, pulled him onto the bike, and kicked started the bike to life. Dick curled his arms around his waist, felt Jason’s gloved fingers brushed over his skin.

He laid his head on Jason’s back, watching the street turned blurry. For once, he felt happy. He felt sated, like never before.

“Let’s go home.”