Chapter Text
When Jason heard the door open, his first thought was to panic.
It frustrated him but it had been a habit of his since he had first heard of Robin, the Golden Boy of the hero society. He thought he’d trained himself out of it but it seemed like dying and coming back to life in one of the most traumatizing ways imaginable had brought it back.
He grit his teeth in frustration and hid in the shadows of the room, the door in open view for him to study his older brother the older man.
The door of the cramped, crappy Bludhaven apartment opened and in walked a very haggard-looking Dick Grayson. It wasn’t very obvious if you weren’t looking, if you hadn’t known him, but Jason had been observing Dick his whole life, even before he’d met him.
Dick had been his hero, the most inspirational person in his life, and Dick had taken that and thrown it in the dirt.
(The dirt that Jason had clawed his way out of, scared and wanting his family to wrap him in their comforting warmth only to find that he was replaceable to Batman, to his father, that he didn’t matter to his brother, that his funeral wasn’t worth going to, that he wasn’t worth the time-)
The sharp sounds of keys clattering against the laminate rung out in the eerily silent apartment, tossed carelessly to the side by their owner just like Jason had been. Sighing, Dick shrugged off his jacket, toed off his shoes, and fell into a heap on his lumpy old couch.
It would have been a sorry sight to look at had Jason cared enough about Dick. As it was, it made Jason happy to see Dick miserable.
Dick threw an arm over his eyes, covering them, and bent one leg, resting it on the armrest, while the other flopped off of the couch, sighing once again.
Deciding this was the perfect moment, Jason walked out of the shadows, the floorboards creaking under his weight.
Dick lifted his arm slightly to glance at him before returning to his previous pose, casually calling out a “Hey Jason,” as he did so.
Jason had been expecting a lot of things from Dick when he appeared in front of him, shock, disbelief, confusion, happiness, relief, anger, but he wasn’t expecting this. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest, like this was just any other day for him.
(It was like he didn’t care that his dead brother was standing before him, like this was nothing, like he was nothing. Did he really feel nothing for Jason? Was he worth so little that it didn’t matter whether he was alive or dead?)
“You look different than usual,” Dick continued in that same tone, breaking Jason out of his inner musings.
“What?” Jason questioned despite himself, if only out of surprise.
“Normally, you’re in your torn Robin uniform or some casual clothes,” Dick informed him. “Never seen you all grown up. Didn’t realize my brain could be this creative when it wanted.” He said with a self-deprecating smile on his face.
The idea that had started to form in Jason’s head wasn’t a pretty one and some part of him was glad. (The pit madness, he knew, was responsible for that. The green tint to his vision made that obvious enough.)
The other part, the part that he’d thought he’d left buried in that (cold, dark, scary) coffin, was concerned for the older man. It wasn’t as if he wanted to be, it was just that some stupid, insignificant feelings that he should be long over by now were surfacing again and maybe he could shoot those feelings between the eyes?
“Anyways,” Dick sighed for what must have been the millionth time that day as he sat up, not once looking at Jason. “What’re you here for today?”
“I-” Jason didn’t know how to respond, unnerved by his new discovery. Was it guilt that made Dick see him? (Was it grief, a small, traitorously hopeful part of him wondered.)
“You know,” Dick said, not letting Jason think of a response. “I seriously hated you when I first found out about you.”
Jason felt the wind being knocked out of him.
(I seriously hated you when I first found out about you.)
(I seriously hated you.)
(I hated you.)
(Hate.)
Dick hates him. His big hates him. brother, his idol, everything he’d wanted to be when he grew up
“It made me so mad,” Dick pressed the heels of his palms against his closed eyes, elbows resting on his knees and took a deep, shuddering breath. “That Bruce gave away Robin when he had no right to, and I’m sorry. I took it out on you when you never deserved that.” Dick stood up suddenly, staring right at Jason, looking at him, studying him, the white streak through his hair, green-tinted blue eyes, (not the same as Dick’s eyes. Where Dick’s eyes could be compared to a crystal clear ocean, Jason’s were more reminiscent of a swamp or even Gotham’s harbour. It was something he’d always hated, he’d much rather Dick’s eyes than his, much rather Dick than him, just like everyone else that knew the older boy.) the leather jacket, the new height.
Dick absorbed everything about him with such a fervour that it made Jason vaguely uncomfortable (not that Jason would ever admit it to anyone) and Jason almost started shifting his weight from one foot to another before he caught himself.
Looking lost in thought, Dick started to reach for Jason in an oddly vulnerable motion, trying to touch Jason’s face before he flinched back and stopped himself, as if remembering something. (That you’re dead, his brain whispered. That you’re just his hallucination, that you’re not real.)
The Golden Boy cleared his throat, turning around to avoid looking at Jason, walking to the couch and picking up one of the many papers littered on the coffee table. When Jason peered over Dick’s shoulder, his curiosity getting the better of him, he saw the newspaper that had announced his death.
“I, uh,” Dick fumbled a bit, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. “I was gonna try harder when I got back, you know,” He eventually said. “Danny told me about,” Dick cleared his throat and continued. “About you and then I just-” Dick cut himself off as his phone started to vibrate from where it had been abandoned on the table. He walked over, read the caller ID, sighed, and picked up the phone.
“Hey Wally,” Dick sat on the couch, rubbing his forehead with the pads of his free hand’s fingers.
Green took over Jason’s vision for a brief second (Wally had that effect on people, he supposed) before he squashed it down. He debated what exactly he wanted to do, whether it be blowing Dick’s brains out, leaving, or listening to the conversation, see if he could get some useful information out of it, before finally coming to a decision as he heard the acrobat’s words.
“I’m fine, Wally, no, nothing’s- yes, yeah, I’m eating, I promise, I’ll see you tomorrow at the Tower, okay, bye.” He tossed the phone aside on one of the ratty cushions of his couch before rubbing his face with both hands, sighing as he did so.
When Dick turned around to look at Jason, he was met with the cold, empty apartment.