Chapter Text
Alone.
Jason never felt so alone. Which didn’t make sense for…someone like him. Solitude is not unrecognizable for him and those who are like him.
He raised himself, for years indeed. No one took care of him, not like he had anyone to. His father was sent to prison, his mother could hardly remember his name while she was on whatever she bought with the money he hardly made. Of course he didn’t earn that money, like everybody else in this messed up city, he would find a way to made it. In constrained ways he wasn’t very proud of.
However, Jason didn’t think anyone could understand him. He was a child who tried to survive. Perhaps it wasn’t justifying things for people like Bruce, but did Jason even need a more proper reasoning at that point? If you asked Jason what would he do if he saw a visibly unhealthy, scared and hungry kid stealing some junk belonged to people who had everything, he’d say he would let the kid get away with it.
Then he met with him. Batman. Bruce Wayne. The man who had everything and nothing at the same time. It was hard for Jason to accept it, but those days, those days were the greatest days of his life. He wasn’t alone. For the first time, he wasn’t. He had people to rely on, this time it was his turn to be taken care of. Another first in his life.
Jason sometimes wished he could just stay in those days, frozen but happy. Forgotten but not alone. Not lonely. Faded but as a son, as a brother. Not as a soldier. Not like everybody had known him as.
Jason Todd. A Good Soldier said the plaque.
And above it, a tornt apart and burnt suit, still covered in his blood and his remains in that glass display. Like it’s a lesson to be learnt, like it’s a consequence of an action and not a tragedy. Like it’s some art to be shown and bragged about and not a child who was taken away from people whom he loved dearly.
Forget and forgive they say.
How could he? How could he forget? How can he forget being beaten to a bloody pulp, blown up and then thrown under the ground with a funeral as a matter of form like a fifteen year old boy wasn’t murdered by the evil himself.
How could he forgive? He killed him. He murdered him, unalived him. In the most terrifying way possible and imaginable. And what did the only man he trusted with his life did? Nothing. He did nothing. He let him, wander around in the wicked streets of this wicked city. To kill more, hurt more. To slaughter more sons and daughters. To fill more graveyards than he already filled.
Wasn’t it enough? Wasn’t the death of the boy he called his son enough for Bruce? How much? How much life should that evil must take until Bruce had enough?
All these thoughts chased after each other in Jason’s mind while he was lying on his bad, crumpled. His green eyes shimmered in the dark, his whole body was buried in the mattress. His wrists were slightly split opened. Not so deep, so he could heal faster and repeat the action. So he could feel his existence. So he could realize that he had someone in the end of the day, himself.
Jason didn’t want to die. Been there, done that. Believe him, it’s no fun.
And God knows Jason had never thought about killing himself.
But a few cuts on the wrists or on his thighs where no one actually could see won’t hurt anyone. Just so he could be fully aware of that he is here and…alive if you want to call it being alive.
His stomach twisted in pain, which made Jason to crumple even more. He needed to eat, like fucking right now, he knew that too.
But he didn’t want to, he wanted to sleep. For 19 hours straight away if that’s possible. Then when he wakes up, he’ll eat. He promised himself.
He heard his phone buzzing, probably more massages from Dick, as his eyelids got heavier and heavier to keep up.
~~~
A few days passed and now him and Dick were in the batcave, cleaning their weapons.
“ What happened to your wrist?” Dick wrinkled his nose like he felt the pain.
Jason knew by now how to cover up his cuts. Even though he didn’t need to put any effort to hide his cuts when he had them on his thighs, he discovered that his wrists were healing a lot faster than his thighs due to him not caring enough to patch the wounds that no one will see and them hurt like dickens when his pants rubbed against his skin.
Therefore Jason had highly creative ways to hide his little secret on his wrists.
First, never wear shirts. Like, ever. You can wear them when your cuts recover, but if they somehow always find their places back on your wrists then say goodbye to shirts.
Second, never bandage both of your wrists. That draws suspicion. Always patch just one of them, if it’s hard to choose just choose the one that looked worse.
Third, be persuasive. Come up with a good excuse, talk about it like it’s nothing and don’t try to hide it or fudge it if someone sees it.
Okay, let’s do it. Jason thought.
“ Dog bit me. Something’s stressing her for a few days. I couldn’t find what it is.”
Dick’s face relaxed and he smiled. “ Maybe it’s because you still didn’t name her.”
“ Her name is dog and it’s a pretty name. What else should I have named her? Haley?” Dick chuckled at his brother’s response.
“ Firstly, Haley is a wonderful name. Secondly, did you change anything in the house or her routine? Maybe that’s why she is stressed.”
“ I mean no, I always take her to walk afternoons, there’s nothing changed in the house either- Oh, but I changed her food with a different brand. You think that’s why?” Lies on top of lies, how good morals you had there Jason.
“ Yeah, that’s why she’s acting out probably. I use vegan dog food for Haley. I’ll text the brand to you.” Dick took a towel and started to dry his escrima sticks.
“ Wow, now I feel bad for Haley.” Jason grinned mockingly.
“ Hey! She really likes them!” Older brother protested and elbowed his younger brother’s arm.
“ You’re a child, Dick.” Jason said, unbothered. But he couldn’t help the corners of his mouth to curve into a soft smile.
After a few minutes of silence, Dick decided to break it. “ I’ve been meaning to tell you, we will have a dinner on sunday in here. Would you like to join us?” Dick said, too focused on Jason’s face expressions.
Jason on the other hand was determined to look nowhere else but his guns. His gentle rubbings to remove the dust on the gun turned into more aggressive moves.
“ With who?” Jason asked, even though he knew the goddamn answer.
“ With everyone?” Dick stated like it was the most obvious thing. “ You know as a family.” He shrugged.
Jason huffed, then put his gun and the dust cloth he was using on the table in front of them. “ Look Dick, I don’t how many times do I have to say this, but those people, are not my family.”
The older one furrowed his eyebrows.
“ What the hell are you talking about again Jason?” The younger one crossed his arms.
“ You are my brother, I care about Barbara and even Damian as well. But the others? Tim, Stephanie, Cassandra and Duke. They are teammates, colleagues or even friends if you want to name it. But they are not my family.”
Now Dick was visibly annoyed. “ Jason, I thought you were having a progress. I thought you finally accepted them.”
“ You assumed that, you never asked me.”Jason rolled his eyes.
“ I thought I didn’t need to! Okay, so you see them as teammates, but what about Alfred, what about Bruce? Don’t tell me that you didn’t forgive him or you didn’t forget-“
Jason’s green eyes shimmered, Are you fucking serious? His face implied.
“ Dick you never had to dig yourself out of your grave, so don’t talk to me about forgiving or forgetting. Okay?” He shouldered Dick and stormed out of the cave.
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He was already feeling regret.
He just missed the Jason he used to know. The one with the greatest, softest smile Dick had ever seen. The one with bright blue eyes that have joy in them.
It was hard to get used to the Jason they had now. The one who rarely ever smiles. The one with green shimmering eyes that now only have anger and mourn in them.