Chapter Text
The security measures in Arkham Asylum were the highest in the world. That's why the big bad Red Hood belonged there. He is too mentally unstable for Blackgate; also, too many inmates there want him dead. Logically, Arkham was the best option.
Well, the best option under the worst options.
When the Red Hood was captured and was instructed to the asylum, it had been a hard day for the Bats. Batman was lost in the time stream, and everyone assumed he was dead. With that knowledge, the Bats broke down. Nightwing, also known as Dick Grayson, became the new Batman. But Jason, also known as Red Hood, decided he'd be a better Batman. A Batman with guns, apparently.
That was the last straw for Dick. He had to deal with his father figure dying and tried so hard to keep the family together. He couldn't also deal with his psychotic brother lashing out. Dick assumed it was a form of coping with Bruce's death, but there was no way Dick was ready to deal with that.
So here was, on his way to the Red Hood's cell in Arkham, to check on him.
Because, yes, Dick did have enough of his brother's behavior, but he wasn't going to give up on him.
"Arkham has the best therapist for you, Jason," Dick argued way back.
"It's the best for you; I'm just trying to help you," Dick said.
Of course, Jason wouldn't accept Dick's arguments.
That's probably the reason why Jason stopped talking, ever since he was in Arkham.
Jason had gone completely mute, wouldn't talk to anyone, not even when he was alone. And Dick would know, since Jason is being monitored 24/7.
But Dick wouldn't just give up. No, he came back every week, with a box of Alfred's cookies and a new book. In an attempt to make Jason stay more comfortable for him. Jason accepted both the cookies and the book, every single week, but would refuse to talk.
The therapists said that a lot of people stopped talking when a loved one would die. Dick doesn't think that fits Jason though. After all, Dick didn't think he and Bruce had such a good father-son relationship.
But then again, a lot of things didn't make any sense when it was about Jason. So there Dick was, with a box full of Alfred's cookies and a new book recommended from Alfred, on his way to Jason's cell.
The guard let Nightwing in and closed the door behind him, so the two vigilantes could have some privacy. There Jason was laying on his bed, looking at the ceiling, pretending to not hear Dick coming in. Dick put the box and book on the floor beside his bed and sat beside Jason, on the way too small bed.
"This week's book is Emma. Alfred said since you liked Pride and Prejudice, you might as well like that," Dick attempted to start a conversation, like always.
Jason turned around, giving Dick his back. Great. He didn't want to talk.
"You can't give me the silent treatment for much longer, Jason. Come on. It's not fair," Dick argued.
"Look, I'm trying really hard to make everything work. I'm sorry that things are the way you are, but you're not here as a prisoner but as a patient," Dick took a big breath trying to keep calm. But he couldn't do it, he was trying his best and it wasn't fair. So he took another big breath and decided to be cruel. He didn't care, as long as it worked.
"If you wanna get out of here, I recommend you talk to your therapists because if this whole silent act goes on, you'll probably never get out. And guess what? I couldn't care less. It'd be just one thing to worry less about!" At this point, Dick was screaming his lungs out.
And he waited, waited for any sign of Jason. Without success. Great. Jason was going to play that game, guess what, Dick could play it too.
He got up and was on his way back out when he heard a tapping.
... --- .-. .-. - --
"Sorry," Jason said by tapping on the wall.
And Dick sighed. Finally, a sign after all these weeks, so apparently long speeches did actually wonders.
... --- .-. .-. - --
"Sorry," Jason tapped again.
"It's okay, little wing," Dick said softly.
"Why aren't you speaking to me?" He asked next.
... --- .-. .-. - --
"Sorry," Jason just tapped again, and Dick could swear he heard silent sobbing, but as he was trying to walk back to Jason, he tapped again.
--. —
"Go," Jason tapped.
--. — --. — --. — --. —
"Go, go, go, go," Jason tapped furiously, the sobbing now loud and clear.
So that's what Dick did. He left Jason alone, with his thoughts.
As Dick left, the oppressive silence of Arkham's confinement seemed to amplify Jason's quiet sobs.
The weight of regret settled on Dick's shoulders, a burden he wasn't sure he could bear.
Closing the steel door behind him, he unwittingly left Jason alone in the shadows, trapped in a silence that echoed louder than words.