Chapter Text
“Jason,” Peter’s voice rings out in the apartment. Jason came back to it empty. The apartment is trashed. He thinks someone broke in. He realizes that Peter moved out all his clothes, tech, and decorations. It’s barren without him in it. He’s sitting on the bed, waiting, and then he calls out.
“Peter? What’s-”
“Don’t.” Jason walks down the hall, towards his voice, into the living room. “We are done. I’m not kidding. I’ve told you I won’t stay if you kill again,” Peter stares out the open window. Jason’s mind runs, screams. He found out, he found out, he found out. His legs give out, and he lands with a thud.
“I had to,” Jason forces the words out. His throat is closing up. He can feel his lungs tightening in his chest.
“Don’t make excuses.”
“Peter, believe me,” Jason is kneeling on the ground behind him. “I had to,” he whispers. He couldn’t let that man, that monster, live another day. Doesn’t he get it? You can’t save everyone. The words are stuck in Jason’s throat: the explanation, the bodies, the pictures, the why.
“Somehow, I can’t believe that.” The venom in his voice is unnatural.
“Fuck you,” Jason says. Peter can’t even look at him. “What is wrong with you?” He can’t stop his voice from breaking as the sadness seeps in. He’s already gone. Jason feels sick.
“YOU,” Peter turns suddenly and stands directly above Jason, “You’re what’s wrong. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done trying to fix you.” He’s a million miles away from this apartment, and Jason couldn’t reach him if he tried. “Being with you, it’s too much.” His voice is distant, calculated.
“Seriously? That’s what this is about? I told you when we got together, I wouldn’t be changing,” Jason says, tilting his head down. He can’t look him in the eyes. Jason knows he’s in the wrong. He deserves this; he’s ruined his life again. He couldn’t help it. Jason is saying the wrong things, and he knows it if he could explain, if he had a chance to think.
“I was naive. Now, we’re done.” Jason can feel the tears fighting free. He doesn’t feel like a person right now. His life is falling apart in his hands. His words can’t save this now.
“Please. Don’t go. I love you,” His voice is barely audible. “I really love you.”
“Fuck off, Jason, you lie as naturally as you fucking breathe.” Peter is walking away. Don’t leave. Don’t leave. The words repeat in Jason’s head, but he can’t escape his throat. The world feels like it’s caving in. Crumbling in on his head, his throat, he’s suffocating.
“PETER. Fuck.” Peter jumps through the open window. Don’t leave me. “God,” Jason's words turn into quiet sobs, “damnit.” Don’t leave me alone. His thoughts are spiraling, and he can’t ask anyone to help. Jason is on his own, again. He lies back on the ground and realizes the mistake he’s made. The only thing he really cared about just left him. His emotions feel wrong, his body feels wrong, and he needs fifty shots of vodka and meth or something to numb himself before everything hits. It’s already starting to hit, and he needs to rip his heart out.
“Fuck me, fuck you.” He whispers to no one. The tears rolling down his face, stinging those tiny cuts, make him feel far too real. Jason wants to lose himself.
So he does. He walks to the nearest liquor store and wastes the night. Jason chugs shot after shot of straight vodka with no chasers. He sits with the awful burning because it feels better than thinking. It’s a miracle he doesn’t get alcohol poisoning; he can thank the Lazarus pit for that. Jason manages his way through most of a 1.5-liter bottle of shitty vodka. The world is spinning after he started chugging straight from the bottle. The floor is his anchor, and his tears are the sea. He starts crying again and can’t stop until he passes out.
He has been disowned by everyone he ever loved once more. This time, it’s completely his fucking fault.
Peter watched the apartment from afar that night. To make sure Jason didn’t do anything too rash. He crawled back into the window when Jason passed out and checked his breathing and pulse. Peter sat on the couch and watched his ex breathe, doing nothing else, for hours. When the sunlight crept through the window, Peter left.
The next day, Red Hood continues as if nothing happened. Spider-Man is not seen in the city, and Batman no longer works with Red Hood in an official capacity.