Somewhereintheruins

[somewhereintheruins]

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All my writings.

DC x DP Series

If I could love you I would; A Dead on Main story: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

One Shots DC x DP

DCxDP fanfic idea: Royal Protection Here

One down and…Opps? Here

DC one shots

Starting over Here

[somewhereintheruins]

Starting over

Inspired by Noah Kahan's 'Starting Over'. It's not out yet, but this shit is wrecking me. Have fun guys.

Jason stood, everything in him still. Not in peace, nor in the way a predator stalks unsuspecting prey. Still in the way that the aftermath of a tundra is. A storm just swept through here, but it's quiet now. Doesn't mean it wasn't a site of pure destructive force a moment ago. Just because the storm ran out of energy doesn't mean it's a time for peace. Or reflection.

Sometimes the storm ignores itself, in hopes that makes itself less dangerous to itself and everyone around it. It'll tear everything down, but if you pretend, maybe you can ignore the roar telling you to run, to not be here. To be anywhere but here and now. They say ignorance is bliss. But sometimes ignoring the pain…when the wind goes faster in the hopes to outrun the pain, all the storm does is get stronger.

A stronger storm has no choice but to destroy everything around it and hope that something-someone-may be able to slow it down. Oftentimes, no one is. If anyone is ever willing to try, you'll find that stopping a storm in motion means you'll have to put yourself in a position to get hurt. Most people aren't willing to do that, no matter how much they claim to love the storm. No one wants to get hurt, and the storm doesn't really want to hurt people, but it's in its nature that someone gets hurt.

But when the storm finally runs out of energy, it will remember the people that braved it. And it will remember the people who made the winds go faster. The storm remembers. The tundra will not forget. The wreckage is a reflection of the storm's soul in pain. The gales screamed.

Jason had screamed. He wasn't saying anything. He was quiet. But he had screamed. He was still screaming. Sometimes you don't have to make a sound, sometimes you're screaming anyways.

But sometimes you go quiet, the storm stops rushing away. Why scream when no one is listening? Did you ever make a sound, if no one bothers to even listen? Why does the storm bother to run away from its center? In the end, everyone knows it cannot.

Jason was too tired to run anymore, to pretend that it wasn't his own father that made the gales of wind want to run faster. Jason was the storm, but Bruce was the hot wind fueling him. Sometimes, a storm will take anything, even the reason for its existence to keep going. It will gladly accept the pain, because that means it's still getting something. Anything at all.

Had Jason asked for this? Was this his fault?

Or was he Bruce's greatest fault?

"I…" His voice cracked, that something in him, that stillness, began to seep into his bones, clearing his vision, the green seeped away. "I might be your fault…" His eyes bore into the man he once called his father. He used to call without any longing or hesitation, like he was his to call.

"But…you are my greatest mistake…" Jason could see the wrinkles in Bruce's face, could see the dispoinment etched in every single line, even if Bruce wasn't looking at him with disappointment now, more like with a desperation of a man sensing he was about to lose something, he could still see it, hidden in every single memory Jason had of the man after he had died and had come back.

Yeah, Jason was disapointed too.

Jason didn't doubt that Bruce loved him. He had doubted if it was enough.

He didn't doubt it anymore though.

He knew.

"It's my fault…for believing…for…for hoping that maybe…" Jason was at a lost for words, at a lost of why the revelation came so softly when everything else had come at him so hard, like unpulled punches that had left him half dead and hoping it wasn't actually what Bruce had wanted.

"You make me so angry.." Jason whispered, as he closed his eyes. "I don't like who I am around you."

"You bring out the worst in me. Maybe that's why it's all you can see when you look at me…"

He could feel scarecrows fear toxin pumping in his blood, could feel the joker venom counteracting it.

'Someone who loves you would not do this to you…' Hadn't he just whispered those words a few days ago? To a little girl that still looked at her father with such a keen desperation to be loved even when he made spots of her skin as black as the night itself. Jason swallowed, feeling taunt scar skin.

"Everything I regret has you at the center…every mistake I make somehow comes back to you…" Jason looked away, at the expanse of the city he helped protect, that led him back to the Bat each night. "Everything that haunts me has ties to you." He thought of his grave next to Sheila's. He thought of the crow bar and the jokes he forced himself to laugh at so things wouldn't become awkward. Keeping his temper so that he wouldn't be driven away. Somehow, laughter still followed him, even when nothing was funny.

He thought of broken birds, and the one he had tried to break. He thought of Arkham, he thought of the Joker, still free and laughing. Maybe that's what love looked like…Protection and hopes of rehabilitation, hopes of returning to sanity.

He had always thought Bruce insane for waiting for the Joker to change.

Bruce said he hated the Joker, yet he was always willing to protect the man.

Was he insane for waiting for Bruce and hoping that he would change? How many times did they have to do this dance before Jason realized the results weren't going to change. That you'd have to be insane to think a man like Bruce would change for anyone when he hadn't even hesitated to leave him in a warehouse rigged to blow in favor of saving his murderer?

Would Bruce even understand if Jason tried to speak what was on his mind? Would he even bother? Or would he twist Jason's words to fit what he wanted?

A part of him wanted to just say 'nevermind', tell Bruce he wouldn't understand, cause how could he understand what Jason couldn't? What Jason had no words for?

Jason only knew how to fight, he didn't know how to give up. He certainly didn't have the word to tell his father that their love just wasn't enough. They weren't going to win.

If Bruce won, Jason lost. And when Jason won, Bruce lost. Each win pulling the other away, regardless who won, they both lost-were losing each other. Were losing themselves to their own anger and pain.

What to say, to get through to this man in front of him, that they were never fated to be winners in each others lives.

He could hear the screams of crime alley's people in his soul.

'And yet…I'll still love you anyway, even when you scorn me.'

'Why do I hate myself so much? I must hate myself, if I love you…There really is no other explanation.'

'If this what your love feels like, then I have met people who have hated me far kindly.'

'But I'm getting tired, and one day I won't have the strength to walk back to you.'

"Bruce…"

Sometimes, there are no words for how much goodbye hurts. You just have to call their name and hope they understand. Hope they understand, because you really don't want to speak it out loud. That would make it too real.

But it's human nature to scream.

"We had a good run, didn't we?" Jason, for once, didn't blame Bruce for his silence. Or the stoic face that tried to hide the desperation of a father losing his son all over again. Now, that he was just seeing, instead of just looking, he could finally see the man that had never walked away from that Alley, and had never walked away from that warehouse. Had never walked away from any of the deaths in his life.

In many ways, Jason understood walking away from death, but never leaving it.

How hypocritical was it, that the man that claimed to be the most rational was the most emotionally compromised out of all of them? How sad was it, that a father was still too late to save his son-a son that didn't need saving anymore?

Alfred was gone, there was no one who was going to get through to this man. This man who was all grief, and Jason had learned long ago that you could not negotiate with grief. You could try all you like, but it would not change anything. It took a type of insanity to even try.

Jason had been insane for a very long time. He hadn't needed the pit for that.

He stared at the grave of the man who could have maybe been able to stall what was happening now. He had been able to, all his life.

'Alfred Pennyworth' written in marble, buried in the Wayne family private mausoleum. It had already been 5 years. Five years ago, Jason hadn't even been invited to attend the funeral.

It wasn't surprising, Bruce had a habit of not inviting people who cared for the deceased when he was on the outs with them. He had always been a selfish man with his grief. Always carried the guilt, but always said something to push it onto someone else. He had a penchant for blamings deaths caused by Batman onto his kids.

Jason wondered who he had blamed this time. Jason wondered if Bruce knew how destructive his storm was being. How it tore everything down around them just like Jason's had. A storm was still a storm even if it was wrapped up in the grandeur that was Justice.

Finally, Bruce spoke, no more than a croak, his eyes searched his, confused and hesitating, unsure where to find the words to stop whatever this was. All too often, Bruce was trying to stop Jason, he almost never seemed to ask why Jason kept going. "Jason?" Grief had run him ragged, but it was nothing new for him.

He would survive this too, Jason knew, he always did-it was living that Bruce had a problem with. Maybe it was cruel to do this in front of Alfred's grave, but Jason knew it was the least cruel thing they had done to each other.

That said something didn't it?

Jason sighed, did they know nothing but to destroy each other at their lowest?

"I'm sorry, Bruce." Sorry that Jason had no other words for him, only a quiet that would never respond to Bruce ever again. There was a type of death in never hearing a loved one's voice again. Jason knew it would tear at him to never hear his voice again, only the modulated voice of Red Hood.

It wasn't their fault. It was both of their fault.

"I'm sorry."

He should say something other than sorry, should tell Bruce that he was done, that he wasn't going to try anymore. That he hadn't needed his approval anymore in a long time and he was strong enough not to need him anymore, to walk away even when it tore him in two.

Alfred wasn't here anymore, he wasn't at his grave. Jason wasn't either. No doubt Bruce would continue to try to visit both. But Jason wasn't going to stay to see if he would.

"I'll be fine, Bruce." Eventually, Jason would be fine. He would be good.

"Will you?"

'Let me ask one more time if you'll be fine, so that I don't feel as guilty when I walk away. It won't work…I'll try anyways.'

If Bruce looked slightly freaked out earlier, now he looked downright alarmed. "Jason? Just what are you saying?"

Jason was never really good at staying still.

"Goodbye, Bruce."

Bruce's eyes widened, there was a panic there and Jason felt his heart twist uncomfortably. He hated this. He hated staying even more.

He was going to hurt both of them by staying, he was going to do the same by leaving. But leaving meant one last time, staying meant many more.

Jason was much too tired for that. That endless cycle of pain. Jason had kept trying to start over, but starting over hadn't earased the past. Or its mistakes.

Or its pain.

"Don't go." Bruce whispered, voice quiet, almost too quiet, like even if Jason heard it, he wouldn't listen. "Stay a little while."

Jason could see right through that request for what it was. Knew Bruce needed more time, needed a plan, was scrambling to find a way, to think of some long lost contingency.

He could give him that. Delay the inevitable. Jason knew, no matter how long he gave Bruce, he wouldn't be able to say the words Jason needed to hear the most. What were a few extra minutes?

Jason smiled sadly, "Okay, Bruce," he whispered, "Just a little while, but then I have to go, Bruce."

The pure relief on his face, in another time and place might have made him laugh, but now all it did was make him feel heavy. Perhaps, in another universe, they could have made it. Just not in this one.

So Jason stood, giving his long lost father some time.

He felt the wind, could feel the ground beneath him, and finally he felt the air grow colder as the sun sank and the opportunties of the day slipped away.

He shifted.

"I'm sorry." Bruce's voice croaked out. His voice rushed and slightly panicked. Jason looked to see the man looking at him with a quiet desperation and such an ardent hope that had Jason doubting his own resolution to leave.

But Jason was never really good at staying still.

And those were not the words Jason needed to hear.

He returned Bruce's striken look, just a slight frown on his face really, but Jason knew how to read his father. He could see that Bruce was reaching, trying.

But he was too late, Bruce was always just a smidge too late wasn't he?

Jason was hapless to do anything but smile sadly again, "I know."

'I know you tried.'

'It's not enough', went unsaid.

Bruce must have heard it anyways, because his expression shuttered. Hope dying, desperation rising.

"Jason, please…" Bruce had never looked so…trying… "Tell me what you need me to say."

But how could Jason tell Bruce what even he didn't know? Jason didn't know what words could fix this, if words could fix this.

"I'm sorry, Bruce."

Bruce's eyes closed, knowing that they had both failed each other for the final time. Jason looked over Bruce's shoulder, feeling a quietness within him for the first time in his life. It was an odd thing to feel, but Jason didn't want to let it go.

He wanted…he needed…

Jason reached forth, and hugged his father for the last time. Bruce startled at the motion, but he was quicker than Jason, wrapping him in a vice like grip that told him he would not be letting go anytime soon.

But eventually, Jason knew, he would have to. They couldn't stay here forever. He was always too soft on the people he loved. But all love, must eventually leave the grasp of temporary humans. Didn't mean that Jason would stop searching for it, seeking it out.

They stood like that, Bruce shaking in his arms, grip like steel, and Jason gripping just as tightly, trying to bury himself in his father, trying to lose himself in this moment in hopes that it would last forever. But humans are tempory, and so are their moments of love.

If either felt their shoulders becoming damp, or the other shaking in such a way that belied crying, neither mentioned it. They were both already grieving a decision that hadn't even been made yet.

It was when the sun sank below the ground, that Jason knew he had to go. He moved to pull away, but Bruce resisted, trying to shove Jason's face back into the crook of his neck. Trying to get him to stay.

Bruce had always been better with action than with words. Too bad he had never acted in a way that Jason needed him too.

"I have to leave, Bruce."

"No," he said petulantly, and Jason had to give a huff of amusement in response. Bruce and his childish tantrums.

Then he sighed sadly, because there was no Alfred to make Bruce see reason.

"Crime Alley needs me. You don't"

Bruce grunted in disagreement, "You're my son, I'll always need you."

And if that hadn't nearly destroyed Jason's resolve to leave, nothing could. But it still wasn't what Jason needed to hear.

"No," Jason whispered, "And you need to let me go."

Bruce shook his head stubbornly in a clear no, perhaps deciding that going nonverbal was somehow a better strategy. But Jason was tired of Bruce's silence. It had never gotten him anything useful.

Jason mulled over an argument. A solution that maybe could rectify his mistake of letting his childish urges win. He should have never let Bruce get ahold of him, he knew how difficult it was to get away.

Perhaps blantant honesty then.

He sighed, "You are hurting me." Bruce loosened his hold only slightly and Jason sighed again at this man's stubboness. "You know I didn't mean it that way." Bruce's whole body flinched, and Jason couldn't help but jerk with it. Still, Bruce didn't let go.

Stubborn bastard. Selfish man. Pitiful father.

"You are hurting me. Let me go."

"I can't." Bruce whispered.

"You have too, and you will eventually. No matter how long you hold on to me, I'm going to leave anyways. You're delaying the inevitable, old man."

Bruce retightned his hold, but otherwise didn't say or do anything.

Damn it.

"We can't keep doing this. We're destroying each other and everyone around us. You need to let me go."

"No," Bruce finally spoke, "Please, Jason. Don't go."

Jason hesitated. Because what was he supposed to say to that? He couldn't ignore his own father's pleas.

"Maybe…"Jason whispered, "Maybe this doesn't have to be the end. Maybe we don't have to destroy each other…"

Bruce was still, listening, hoping ardently that his second son, his Robin, would stay, wouldn't leave like everyone else had. Jason could tell, because even when Jason was leaving, he was still his father's son, and he knew this much at least.

"We could change, but we need time to do that. We both need time to work on ourselves, to go to therapy-"

"I can go to therapy."

Jason's silent surprise was evident enough of his lack of faith in his own father.

"Yeah…Maybe."

Bruce shuddered, no doubt knowing where this was going. "You need to let me go first."

"You need to let me heal first, and I can't…" Jason whispered, "Not when you keep hurting me."

"Bruce, you need to let me go."

"Please, just let me go."

Bruce was trembling harder now, his storm growing and Jason knew it was his fault. But he also knew he couldn't be the one to stop the storm. What was at the center, only Bruce could reach, no one else could.

Bruce heaved in a breath of air, breathing in shakily. "Okay. Okay, Jason, I'll let you go, just give me some more time." He all but practically begged his son.

"Okay, Bruce," Jason whispered to the man breaking in his arms, his father. "I can do that."

It was an agony waiting for Bruce to let him go, it was a type of bliss feeling his father's desperation. He was wanted, and wasn't that something?

Why wasn't that enough?

When he finally did, Jason almost didn't let go himself, but he needed to, so he did. Bruce's eyes were puffy, and his gaze bore such a tremendous sadness that Jason hadn't been privy to in a long time. He was used to anger, not to whatever this was.

"Goodbye, Bruce."

Bruce's gaze saddened even more but this time he didn't protest. His voice still came out like the aftermath of torture.

"Goodbye, Jaylad."

And this time, Jason walked away, feeling his father's gaze the entire time he did so. It was a agnozing feeling, it was a hopeful one.

Just maybe…just maybe.

But Jason had to walk alone first, to see if he was capable of walking back. And to see, if maybe, it was worth coming back.

And Bruce had his own storm to temper.

Didn't they all?

[somewhereintheruins]

One down and...Opps?

Danny huffed, looking at the old AC unit in the window and trying to decide if Fenton magic could save its existence. Right as Danny was about to decide that maybe he could save this rusty pathogen-trapper with a good old Fenton upgrade and spit, a cockroach peaked it head out from one the metal crevices.

Danny stared at it, at the beady small eyes, the mandibles chewing on nothing but air and the two freakishly long antennae waving in the air like a drunk ground's director signalling an airplane to land-but instead of an airplane, it was tempting a foot to crash land into the rusty bucket and send it straight out of the apartment and straight down to hell.

"Nope-Nah-I'm good. Not even Fenton magic can save that." He shivered in disgust. He raised his foot in preparation to kick cockroach ass outside his sister's complex window then promptly froze mid-move when Jazz popped into the room.

"What can't be saved by Fenton magic?" She said curiously, then promptly froze when she caught sight of the 2-inch size roach casually chilling on the lost cause of an AC.

"Yeah, no. That has got to go."

"That's what I'm saying!" Danny said, throwing his hands into the air, leg still suspended. He moved to do just that but then suddenly Jazz stretched out her hand.

"-Wait! Make sure no one's under that window before you kick a roach and a whole AC unit at them." Jazz shivered, "No one deserves that."

"But it's right there!" Danny cried out, motioning towards the window that stood adjacent to the AC. To get to the window, Danny would have to sidestep the harbinger of doom to open the window and make sure no one was an unfortunate accidental victim of a roach infested air conditioner-other than himself that was.

Jazz scowled, "You're the one that begged to help me move in so now this is you helping-now you will stick your head out the window and make sure you don't kill anyone while doing so."

Danny groaned, slumping, "Fiinnne..."

Danny didn't bother mentioning that he only did so because she was moving to attend college in one of the most dangerous cities in the entire U.S, maybe even in the world: Gotham city. Danny could have never let his sister take the trip by herself while she scouted out some cheap affordable apartments to stay in. Luckily-and the would be only time he would be grateful for a certain fruitloop's interference-Vlad had finally made himself useful and had just bought an entire building and had put Jazz in charge of renovations. In return, Jazz had chosen the location and she would get an entire floor as her penthouse, she would also be getting paid for her time, of course.

(Danny had no idea how she had done that, but he was willing to bet it was because she was scary when she needed to be...)

Currently they were on the top floor-the 6th floor-and Danny was going around clearing the rooms of heavy and irredeemable items, such as the roach infested AC. This whole place would have to be fumigated. Danny was taking no chances. Besides, it's not like the billionaire Fruitloop would notice any costly charges.

"It's not like we didn't have the perimeters tapped off, or the email sent nearby communities telling everyone we were doing renovations and that we're going to use the window to send things down, or the traffic cones and-did I mention the tape already?-And the fence that's around the entire building!-And the permit and the explicit consent of the building management-which is you-and the owner-who is now Vlad and doesn't care if we throw things outside the window-" Danny grumbled as he turned intangible and slid past the tiny terror and wiggled the rusted window open.

"Honestly, Vlad would be better off burning this place to the ground and starting from scratch...and I don't why you chose Crime Alley of all places to move too. It's literally called Crime Alley for a reason."

Jazz snorted, but other than that she didn't offer much support.

"Gotham U has the top psychology programs in the entire country. Not to mention the clinical shadowing and mentorship program that will lead me to having access to Arkham. I'd have access to the most unique patterns of thinking in the entire world and I'd be able to study it." She grinned widely, eyes flashing green and Danny was reminded that he was not the only person who was ecto-contaminated.

Then she added, "The building's foundation is solid-I checked it out-it just needs some work done. And the people here are in need of a cheap affordable and safe place to live in."

Danny gave his older sister a sideways glance, "Only you would salivate over cracking into a fuitloop's head." Though his core was purring at the idea of his sister creating a much needed safe haven for the people in Crime Alley.

Jazz shot him a look, "Mentally ill."

Danny rolled his eyes and held out his hands in an appeasing gesture.

Leaning out from the now open window, Danny peered below to see that indeed, people had listened to the signs and the posters and the cones and the tape and the fence-and Jazz really had gone overboard with this hadn't she?

"No one's there, Jazz," Danny huffed, waving his hand in an obvious 'see?' gesture. To make an added point Danny leaned over and shouted loudly, "Anyone out there? Just a heads-up but a roach infested AC is about to become real acquainted with gravity!"

When no one answered-and hmmm, wasn't it almost too quiet?-and no one walked by-seriously, that what the fence was for: to keep people out-, Danny turned a smug smile to Jazz, "Guess Gothamites aren't as dumb as you're making them out to be."

Jazz rolled her eyes, "Proper safety precaution isn't calling anyone dumb." She rose a pointed brow at Danny, "And anyways, shouldn't you know the most about how important proper safety precaution is and how people are likely to ignore common sense and willingly and unwittingly place themselves in danger?"

Sticking out his tongue at Jazz, Danny finally reached to his side and slammed his fist into the AC, causing both the roach and the cursed AC to launch out of the window and straight down to their demise.

"Timber!" He yelled, watching his sister shake her head in amusement.

There was a crash from down below and Danny smiled. "One down," he quipped, grinning at his own pun, "many to go."

Suddenly a round of static distorted screeching erupted from below the window and Jazz and Danny shot each other confused glances. Soon however, their glances of confusion swiftly to one's of horror.

"By great golly Batman! He's dead! I can't believe it!" A heavily distorted and mechanical voice rang out.

"What happened?" A deep unhuman voice growled out in return.

"He got crushed-"Another burst of static-"by an AC unit of all things! This is amazing!"

Jazz and Danny could only look at each other with matching twin looks of growing horror and dismay.

"Danny!" Jazz screeched, "You said there was no one there!"

"I did-AND!-There was tape! And A whole ass fence!-"Danny screeched back, "How was I supposed to know a Gothamite idiot was nearby?!

By the ancients! Why did Jazz always have to be right?!

[somewhereintheruins]

The turns of the seasons are slow, and before you know it, I've lived a thousand lifetimes with you and told a thousand 'love you's' more.

Dead on main

For @iliveforangstpjo who recommended the story and reminded me that I should probably finish the ending. Thanks for the reminder, my guy.

Warning: Some scenes contain making love while reciting poetry. Read at your own risk. But also, it's not detailed, like...at all, so you should be fine. It's more focused on the romance of making love rather than the sexual connotation. The rest of it is fluff and contains all other types of love that are not sexual or romantic. Because there are many more and they are just as important.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Making love is a slow and arduous process. It contains the breathlessness of the lungs, the trembling of the limbs, the incoherent mind and speechless mouth of the one that is worshiped.

For many nights and many moons, Jason lay beneath the slow and ardent love of his King, husband and lover. With each moment of skin pressed against skin, with lips kissing all that lay beneath it, and breathless mumblings of praise and worship, Jason was loved, ardently so.

Danny, a King that was without his Queen for so long, could not bare to leave his lover's side for a moment, laying onto his flesh all that he longed to give to him from all the years that he could not. With the blessing of a certain Ancient of time, time itself had stopped flowing to give Danny enough time to lay all of his words of reverence upon his lover's skin.

Here, everything that was lost was combined into one. One mind, one accord, one flesh.

...

"Danny!" Jason cried out, chest heaving.

Danny hummed lowly in response, enthralled by the sweat that was gracing Jason's bobbing Adam's apple. Danny kissed it and Jason pressed hot flushed skin against Danny's mouth, Jason's fingers clutching onto Danny's shoulders.

Jason mewed and Danny hummed again, peering downward at his blossoming lover, a bessoten expression on his face. "By the Ancients, Jason, you are beautiful." He reached up to cup Jason's flushed face gently, taking in his blown pupils and slightly dazed countenance.

Jason let out a gasp, trembling in his King's hold, at the mercy of years of pent up passion. And by the Ancients, was he enjoying it.

When was the last time someone had touched him so reverently? When was the last time someone had gazed at him with such passion? And when had anyone whispered into his ears sweet poetry he had written over the years as he waited for Jason to return? A long time, and only Danny had ever loved Jason so purely, and with such passion as what he was now laying on Jason.

Right now, right here, Jason didn't give a damn about how much time had passed, he had lost track of it after the first few kisses laid upon his skin had sent his mind into ecstasy. Here, nothing else mattered but Danny, and his soft spoken words.

"Like the stars above, I gaze at you in such reverence..."

Danny kissed his nape, trailing upwards to nip at his ear, each word reverberating throughout Jason's being.

"Your light-a balm to my soul, my core, my everything..." He whispered, and Jason couldn't help the tears that slipped away from him.

Danny kissed each one, his words wrapping Jason in such warmth that he couldn't help but bask in it, "And so you became my soul, my core, my everything..." Danny whispered, his voice a soft croon.

"With each word spoken I am further entranced." And Jason truly was entranced.

"In all that you are, you are mine." Jason shivered in pleasure in the note of possessiveness in Danny's husky growl.

"And in all that I am, I am yours..." Like an oath, Danny uttered the final words that sent Jason into an ecstasy that had him writhing in Danny's hold. Still, Danny crooned words of praise and worship while Jason came back down from the heavens Danny had sent him into.

Slumping into a breathless pile of mashed bones, Jason vaguely was aware of Danny moving to spoon him and interlace their fingers together.

Voice husky in the aftermath of their pleasurable evening, Danny spoke, "Better than the limerick?"

Jason barked out a laugh, "Better than the limerick," he turned to peer over his shoulder at Danny, "Much better than the limerick."

Danny pouted, but he did nothing to refute, merely pressing his face into Jason's back and giggling, "Should have seen your face."

Jason groaned, rolling his eyes, but overall much too tired to do anything else.

They stayed like that for a moment, just basking in each other's presence and taking peace in the closeness of the other. Never again, would either be alone.

"How many poems do you have left..." Jason grumbled out after a while.

Danny hummed, voice slightly hesitant, "I wrote one for each day you were gone..."

20 years...365 days per year...seven thousand, three hundred...

"Oh by the Ancients Danny!"

"Hmmmm," Danny agreed, "We should get started again, we have much to catch up on..."

"Wait!" Jason flinched away, but Danny was already whispering sweet nothings, and his lips grazed just right in that sweet space between Jason's shoulder and neck that made Jason weak in the knees and-Jason was gone.

"And by the way in your eyes, I knew that I was gone, lost in all that was you..."

Jason swooned.

...

"Jason!"

Kitty sprang forth and wrapped Jason in a tight embrace, tears at the corner of her eyes but not quite falling. She cupped Jason's face, turning him so she could peer at him from every angle, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, man, you okay?" Behind her, floated Johnny 13, his face a mask of concern and relief. He approached, not reaching out to hold him like his girlfriend was but it was a pretty close thing.

"Yeah, guys, I'm okay." Jason cleared his suddenly tight throat, "It's so good to see you again."

"Yeah," Johnny snorted, "I'd bet." But his face was still one of relief rather than sarcasm. Then the couple glanced at each other before both their smiles turned lecherous, "Be honest, how long did Danny have Clockwork freeze time for you two love birds?"

Jason felt his face burn, "You!-none of your business!"

Kitty crowed, "So he did!"

Johnny laughed, "Knew it!" He pumped his fist, then paused seriously, "How long?" He floated closer, "I have a bet to win! And I will not be the one to lose to Skulker of all ghosts!"

Flabbergasted, Jason could only stare, feeling every inch of him heat up.

Kitty crooned, moving in closer, "C'mon Jason, don't be shy~ We're all adults."

"Yeah, tell how long y'all two smashed faces."

"3 earth months?" Kitty guessed, a look of anticipation on her face.

Jason, snapping out of his silent mortification, rolled his eyes at the two. He had forgotten how direct ghosts could be. Often times, the living danced around the subject, but the dead had no such qualms.

Jason, now remembering the honest and direct culture of his people, simply directly stated, "6 earth months." It took Jason and Danny six earth months to get through all the poems Danny had written to him after his departure. Needless to say, Jason was well satisfied.

Kitty and Johnny 13 cackled and cheered in satisfaction.

"That's my boy! "Johnny 13 said, slapping Jason's shoulder. "Won me my bet!"

Kitty nodded in agreement, grin wide, "Told you so! I know my boys!"

Rolling his eyes, Jason let himself bask in the relationships he had once lost. It was like he hadn't even left.

"You know..." Jason spoke teasingly and at once, both Johnny and Kitty snapped their attention back to him. He glanced around, seeing the room void of Danny's presence, as he had gone off to some important meeting with Clockwork. Seeing as he wasn't back...

"He wrote poetry..."

A few scandalous sentences next and both Johnny and Kitty were left blushing a bright green. As ghosts were emotional beings, it would never be sex that was scandalous, but artful displays of intimate emotions.

Kitty leaned in, "Tell me more..."

"Yeah..." Johnny leaned in as well as he lit a cigarette, "The others are going to love this."

And so Jason did.

...

"Jason!"

"It's so nice to see you again!" A warm embrace wrapped tightly around him, and Jason couldn't help but bury his face in Jazz's soft hair.

"It's nice to see you again too." He sighed into her hair.

Jazz pulled back, a wide smile on her face, a look of calculation crossed her features and Jason raised an eyebrow. "You're twenty-two now, huh? That's six birthdays we have to catch up on."

"What?" Jason laughed, shaking his head, then squinted in suspicion at her, "What are you guys up to?"

Jazz smiled, a secretive and mischievous glint to her eyes, "Nothing, just planning a welcome home party for my favorite brother-in-law, nothing much." She shrugged, "Just a small gathering of friends and family."

She stepped back, her smile faint, eyes slightly misty, "Our Jason is finally home, is that not worth celebrating?"

Jason's own eyes turned misty, "Yeah," He pulled her into another hug, "Yeah, I guess I can let you throw your party."

Jazz chuckled. "Thanks." Her voice coming muffled from within his hold. Next to him, Danny rubbed his shoulder reassuringly. A silent but welcomed presence.

"Oh thank God!-Cause I just bought all this meat-" A voice boomed out and Jason looked up to see Tucker sauntering in, Sam trailing in behind him, a slightly disgusted look on her face, carrying her own bag in what he assumed to be vegetables of some sort.

"-And let me tell you! The good stuff is expensive!" With a small bang, Tucker relieved himself of the cooler before he swept his arms wide open and made his way towards Jason, sweeping both him and Jazz in a firm embrace.

God, Tucker had gotten tall-6 foot 2 and all lean muscle-and Jason had thought he had had a major growth spurt! "We missed you man, glad you're back." He said, sound muffled from where he had buried himself in Jason's shoulder. "Also, what scent of shampoo are you using because it smells really good..."

"Really? First time you've seen Jason in 6 years and the first thing you ask him is what shampoo he uses?" With a huff, Sam elbowed Tucker aside with a pseudo-false glare, "Not even a 'how are you'?"

Tucker threw his hands out, "I figured he was fine if he was with Danny-" Then his smile turned lecherous, "-Speaking of which, is there any truth to the poetry rumors?"

Next to him, Danny turned into a bright pretty pink and Sam glared at Tucker, before turning an expectant gaze towards Jason, raising a singular eyebrow suggestively. Jason shrugged his shoulder good naturedly, neither denying nor affirming.

"IT"S TRUE." Both of them chorused and Danny's pretty pink turned into a deep red.

"Oh, leave my little brother alone-I think it's romantic! And I also think it's more than enough about what I need to know about my little brother's sex life." Jazz said deadpan.

Tuck plastered a disgusted look on his face.

Danny whined, looking like he was about to sink through the floor to get away from this conversation. "Jazz!"

Sam snickered, before wrapping Jason up in a firm hug, "Welcome home, Jason."

"Glad to be back..." Jason whispered back.

There truly was no place like home.

...

"Ja-'Son!'" And Jason couldn't help but groan a little at the pun before he was groaning at the colossal weight that bore upon him in the form of the 6'9 Jack Fenton. Squeezing him tightly, the famous bear hug of Jack Fenton lifted him off of his feet.

"I brought the cake-yes, dear-I also managed to get a Vegan and Vegetarian cake." He heard a familiar voice consol Sam.

"Hmmm...I think that's enough, Jack," A smaller hand tapped at Jack's arm.

Jason looked to the side to see Maddie looking at her husband with slight chastisement, amusement written all over her features as well. With a pout, Jack let Jason go and Jason wheezed in a breath.

And then suddenly, Jason was wrapped up in the maternal embrace of his mother-in-law. He wrapped his arms around her, and she patted his head, "It's nice to see you again Jason, son." She pulled back, slight concern of her face, "How have you been?" She shot Danny a warning glance, "Has Danny been treating you well?"

Jason let out an amused huff at Danny's panicked appearance and Maddie's firm glare, deciding to spare his husband a scolding and tell her the truth-he could act wronged another day. "He's been a perfect gentleman-so far," He winked at Maddie, "I'll let you know if that changes."

Maddie gave her own amused huff at Danny's pouting figure and Jack puffed out his chest.

"Of course Danno would treat his husband well! He's a Fenton!" He boomed, face full of pride. He slapped a firm hand on Jason's shoulder and Jason lurched forward slightly and Jack beamed. "Welcome home, son!"

Jason smiled, "It's good to be back."

"Well, well, well, look what the ghost dragged in!" That same familiar voice from earlier rang out joyfully and Jason turned to see Val grinning widely at him.

God, was everyone in Amity Park destined to be taller than 6 feet? Even Jazz was just as tall as he was!-And he was 6'1!

Val scooped up Jason in a tight hug, which Jason returned with full force. "How's life ghost boy?"

Jason snorted, "Well, considering I'm a halfa like Danny now, I can say it's definitely half way there."

Val laughed while Maddie and Jack perked up in interest.

"Another Halfa? I told you us Fentons are remarkable! Always beating death and what not!

Jason felt a flood of warmth in being included as a Fenton, his core humming with contentment and joy.

Val grinned at him, no doubt feeling and hearing the vibrations coming from his core. "Nothing I wouldn't expect from Amity Park's other ghost boy!" She said while shooting Danny a teasing grin. Danny rolled his eyes good naturedly, a smile on his lips.

Jason couldn't help the fact that his core purred louder after their exchange, even when they both sent teasing glances in his direction.

...

"Daddy!"

Jason whirled around just in time to catch Ellie as she crashed into his chest.

"Ellie!" He glanced over her hair to see Jazz and Dick standing near Tucker, Sam and Val, and Weston. Sam's and Val's hands entwined together. Jazz looked to be introducing Dick to the party. Dick as usual was pretending that he was fine, but Jason could see that he was nervous to be here.

He sent Jazz a look of thanks, and she gave him a nod. A singular look shared was enough for Jason to ask her to look after his older brother and for her to agree.

With Jason glancing over, Dick caught his eye and for a moment he seemed to freeze-and if Jason did not know his brother as well as he did he might not have noticed. He simply gave his brother a grateful smile and a small wave, knowing from his brother's untensing shoulders that was all that was needed to put him at ease.

And people thought he was the overthinking emotionally constipated brother.

He turned his attention back to Dani and Danny, soaking in their presence and enjoying their endless chatter. He glanced over to see Maddie and Jack chattering themselves with a barely amused and highly exasperated Vlad.

Perhaps he could recommend the same therapist Vlad was seeing to his brother. The lady had worked wonders with the Fruitloop why not with his brother? After all, Dick was way less worse than the Fruitloop was before he started seeing her.

He glanced at Vlad again, who made a point to raise a brow at him and his daughter, before excusing himself and making his way towards them.

Oh boy...

"No 'hello' for me? Dani?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, now go away Fruitloop." But Jason could tell there was no actual heat in it.

Vlad merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He turned his gaze towards Jason, "Glad to see you're doing well, Jason. I was beginning to become worried."

"Just barely?" Jason teased.

"Hmmm," Vlad hummed agreeably, taking a sip of his wine glass-where did he get wine from?-and attempting to hide the small smile overtaking his features. "Indeed."

Then he went serious, placing a hesitant touch on Jason's shoulder-as if he was unsure if his touch would be welcomed-and squeezing gently, "I am actually glad to see you again, whole and well." He paused, a conflicted look on his face, "When you were gone, Danny..." Vlad grimaced, "Let's just say Danny had a hard time. It's good that you're back now."

Jason nodded, his gaze traveling to Danny who was pointedly ignoring the conversation by engaging in one with his parents who had trailed over slowly with Vlad.

"Yeah," he said softly, not knowing what else to say. He cleared his throat. "Thanks Vlad." Then he grinned, changing the topic, "Glad to see you're not a total Fruitloop anymore."

Vlad grimaced, but there was faint amusement in his eyes, "The wonders of a good therapist, I suppose."

"Indeed," Jason echoed and the men shared a commiserating look. After all, both of them had a history of dealing with their emotions in all the worse ways.

Then Vlad pointed a thumb in Dick's direction, "Perhaps a therapist for that one over there?"

Jason smirked, "You noticed?"

Vlad snorted, "He's practically radiating anxiety."

Jason snorted as well, "Yeah, I should probably go talk to him."

Vlad turned an unimpressed look towards him, "Probably?"

Jason sighed, turning towards Danny and letting Dani slip into his husband's hold. He took her without question and Jason left to go talk to his wreck of a brother.

...

"Dick, how are you enjoying the party?"

Dick glanced up, smiled bright and cocky, but his shoulders were tense and Jason knew his brother well enough to know that something was wrong.

"It's great! Everyone has been so welcoming and nice!-and the foods great-and can you believe everyone is so tall? Like, really tall." Dick babbled.

Jason frowned, and Dick flinched, paling slightly. Jason noticed that Dick's hands were slightly shaking.

Dick broke eye contact, looking away, "And I can really tell..." his voice broke, "how much they love you." He stilled then, becoming eerily focused as his gaze slowly rose to meet Jason's once more. "They really love you Jason..."

He took a deep breath, then let it out unevenly, "They're not like...us."

Jason, left speechless at Dick's sudden word vomit, could only look at him, soaking in his words as he did his best to understand what Dick was trying to say.

Was Dick saying that Bruce and the others-Dick too- didn't love him? Ouch...Talk about a punch to the gut.

But well, he had kinda figured, like, he had the scars to prove it. Jason swallowed, feeling the taunt scaring that laid upon his throat. And the years upon years of Jason being shut down while trying to reach out to his family. Or being beat the crap out of just because his methodologies were different. Or because he came back different and Wayne family had decided that different was wrong.

Hell, he had conformed to Bruce's wishes not to kill a man and had still taken the beating of a lifetime. Batman had never hit the Joker, a man he claimed to hate, as hard as he had hit Jason-and Jason was supposed to be his son. Supposed to be...

Never again would Jason cower underneath an outstretched hand, neither would anyone else.

I am not your father Jason. I don't need your teenage rebellion.

Words-screamed words, back and forth, and Jason didn't know who started it, but he always remembered how Bruce responded. How much it had hurt to feel the blows land on his body. He thought that he had deserved it. That he had earned it.

'I am not your responsibility,' he had told Bruce.

And Bruce had said, 'No Jason, you are my fault.'

Bruce viewed Jason as a mistake. Nothing more, nothing less. And there was an 'anger' there, in Jason's heart. For the first time since Jason remembered what it was really like to be loved, wholly, completely, unconditionally, Jason knew, that whatever Bruce called 'love' was more akin to 'hate' than anything else.

Whatever Bruce had for Jason-whatever kind of sick parental 'love' it was- it was conditional-and dangerous. Jason knew that now.

And well, recent events concerning the Joker-and it had never really been about the Joker-had only confirmed Jason's worst fears. Bruce had never loved him. He said that he did but he said it in the same way a husband did after he had just struck his wife, or how a parent said it after they had just done something unforgivable but wanted to be forgiven anyways. Like 'love' could ever be the reason why someone treated another person so horribly.

'I love you' was just what an abuser said in order to keep someone around. It was possessiveness-an unwillingness to lose control-that drove those words out into the open, not actual love. Jason knew that keenly...How many times had he seen the same scenario take place in the alley.

And everyone knew how much of a control freak Bruce was.

It was just...Jason had never acquainted Bruce to be an abuser...He was supposed to be a person of justice...Jason was not supposed to be a victim. Not again. He was strong...He stood on par with Bruce...He was not a little boy standing in front of an angry Willis Todd...He had grown up, he had-he was supposed to be strong...

But that meant nothing when it came to abusive relationships, did it? It didn't matter how physically strong someone was, they could still be abused.

Revelations like these always seem to come from the most quiet places of the soul, the place most unaffected by everything that goes on around it. The truth sinks like stone, striking true like a hammer, but leaving no weight behind, instead, it seems to uplift, leaving a burdened man feeling weightless and free. The truth usually does that.

Jason laughs, relief filling his chest and for the first time, Jason doesn't lie to himself or make excuses for a madman. He didn't have to anymore. He was free.

Free to be Jason. Just Jason, soaring above it all, weightless. And if he falls, he knows his husband would be there to catch him. Jason truly can move on and never look back now. Jason is free.

Dick takes a step back, eyes wide and clearly stunned, not expecting this reaction.

"I know." Jason says, smile broad, "Unlike Bruce and the others," And boy isn't it a relief to just say his name and not feel some sort of convoluted emotions of longing and denial and hurt or some kind of brokenness and self-hatred, "When they say that they love me, they actually mean it."

Dick flinched, devastation written all over his features. "Jason," he says softly, "You have to know that we do love you. You're our brother, and your Bruce's son. I know that we're not the best in terms of letting you know that but it is true that you are loved."

Jason just stared at him, and his mouth opened, and Jason had no idea what he was going to say but he knew there would be no going back after he said this. But that was okay, Jason had no interest in anything other than moving forwards.

The only thing Jason was really sure of was that...He loved himself too much to go back to a situation that was hurting him...Yes, that was right...

After years of hating himself, blaming himself and despising every single thing that he was and had done, Jason was now choosing to love himself. And the most crucial act of love, the most powerful, most loving gesture Jason could ever do for himself, was allowing himself to move on and never look back.

"It does not matter how much you claim to love another person, if all your acts of 'love' only cause harm," Jason said sternly. "I have given Bruce and the Wayne family years of my time, and all I ever wanted was for you to see me, but you let your moralities get in the way of that."

"You turned me into some twisted, convoluted monster that could do no good instead of seeing me as a person. I have reached out many times only to be mocked, beaten bloody and betrayed. I have given you chance after chance despite none of you truly deserving it all because I loved you too much and did not love myself enough to walk away when I first should have." Jason's voice was steady, calm, and despite the confrontation, his heart was only slightly fast and his adrenaline was non-existent.

Jason wasn't scared to lose Dick anymore, or anyone who couldn't love him enough to 'see' him. Not anymore. He had people who loved him, he would not be alone if he lost the last connection to his first life. Jason was ready to move on. He was done.

"I'm done, Dick. I don't have any more chances left to give to people who don't pull their punches even when I do or who will use my emotional vulnerability against me as some sort of fucked up contingency. I don't have the patience left for people who will argue that I'm a horrible, awful person just because I put a bullet in between the eyes of a pedophile or a rapist. I don't have anymore understanding for the people who willingly see me as worse than the people who prey on innocents-on children-just because I kill to protect."

Dick's face had gone deathly pale but Jason plowed on. He was done, and he needed this out. Someone had to hear this, and Dick had to understand, Jason was not going to fix abusive relationships in the name of love. Dick could walk away, but Jason would still be free when he did.

"For years I have bent-conformed myself to your moral system and sacrificed mine, all because you have some superiority complex and think you know better than I do. Like I'm something wayward and broken. But guess what, Dick, your morality isn't better than mine just because you conform your morality to the law and I do not."

Death chose this moment to stir, "You are Queen, you are the law." She whispered.

With that proclamation, Jason felt something like peace wash over him, even as the words that left his mouth told of a past that was anything but peaceful.

But there was nothing more comforting and supportive than a mother's love.

"You, and the rest of the bats have done nothing but shut me out and shame me-treat me like I'm some rogue that needs to be put down-and yet, I have had more of a positive impact in the worst place of Gotham-in the worst place in the world-than the entire Bat-family has ever had on any part of Gotham city."

How could Jason have forgotten that he was chosen to be Death's champion not despite but because of his sense of compassion and morality? Blessed as an honorable Queen because of his sense of righteousness and judgement?

Death had deemed him worthy and now Jason was questioning his worth because a few mortal beings could not comprehend that the world was not black and white and evil deserved to be punished.

He had been sculpted and molded to rule, to punish evil and help good flourish-it was no wonder Crime Alley was beginning to flourish under his rule. Jason was a good Queen after all.

And a few mere mortals-who could never understand life and death as Jason did, could never implement justice and judgment as the Queen of the infinite realms did-were questioning him? Mortals who could barely comprehend their own existence were questioning him?

I am the law that reigns supreme and I was ridiculed and abused by a couple of mortals that thought they were above me just because they did not kill.

Suddenly all of this-Bruce, Alfred, mortality and morality-Jason wanted to laugh at it. This was ridiculous. Jason was the Queen of death, it was completely absurd that he was bending to the will of a few mortal men. He sneered.

"And I will not confuse Bruce's conditional, conforming, oppressive possessiveness as love. That is not love. I know what love is," Jason said, looking to where Danny was happily chatting with Vlad, Dani peeking at him from afar, safe in his lover's arms, "And whatever Bruce has for me is not that."

By the ancients, Jason truly had been blind to think that they had truly loved him.

Dick was looking at him with mute shock now, his form hunched in, eyes sad and weary. Jason took pity on him, "Maybe at one time he did love me-when I was Robin- in his own convoluted," he paused, "not-really-loving way-but even then there were days where I could not feel a shred of care."

"Even now, I cannot feel it..." Then he shrugged. "And what's the point of loving someone if the other person can't feel it?" A rhetorical question. The answer? There was no point in loving someone if it could not be made known and properly expressed. Otherwise, it would seem like it never existed in the first place as the person who was loved would never have felt loved.

Being told that you are loved is vastly different from feeling loved.

The last of Jason's words seemed to snap Dick out of his interrupted mini lecture and he gazed at Jason with the look beyond his age, but there was a sadness and dawning understanding there too. He chuckled dryly, "When did you get so wise Jason?"

Jason shrugged, "Around the same time I grew up-or when I became Queen. You tend to wisen-up when you have a billion or so subjects hanging on your every word." He deadpanned.

Dick blinked, "God, I forgot that you're a Queen, like an actual real life Queen." His brow furrowed, "How'd that even happen?"

Jason raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "How'd you think it happened? I helped overthrow the previous King-who was a tyrant by the way-and then married Danny-the next King by right of conquest-thus becoming the Queen. But before that I was Death's champion, her beloved son."

The unspoken 'Duh' hung between them.

Son? Dick mouthed silently.

"Oh..." Dick said, "Of course." Then he shook his head, "Right, details later..." Then he sighed, slumping, "You're right, Jason..."

"We treated you horribly, always expecting you to change and acting like...well, like entitled assholes." Dick sighed again, gripping the back of his neck in agitation, "What I'm trying to say, Jason, is that we didn't love you the way you needed to be loved and I'm sorry about that. You're right, we judged you and pushed you away yet always expected you to still come back because we told you that we loved you, that we were a family. And yet we never loved you or treated you like a family member."

He gazed apologetically at Jason, "I didn't treat you fairly when you first became Robin and now I'm failing to treat you fairly now by imposing my beliefs and what I feel onto you."

He huffed, "I've been an absolute dick to you, haven't I?"

Jason snorted, then shrugged, at a loss of what to say, because after his spiel he had fully expected Dick to leave, he had expected anger, he hadn't expected understanding, much less an apology from the man. He knew he was owed one, from someone, but he had long since given up that someone would have listened and would have given it to him. He had waited years to be seen, and now, he was getting it when he didn't even quite need it anymore. Not from them, anyways.

"Look, if you never want to see Bruce again, I'll do everything in my power to make sure that you never do-not even as Batman. The others too, just say the word, Jason."

Jason nodded, "I don't ever want to see the man who put my daughter's life at risk ever again. I can't say I will hold back if I do. I am a father before I am anything else. I am not Bruce, I will kill to protect my daughter."

Death stirred again, and Jason could feel a faint wrath dripping from her. There was a promise there. Bruce would most definitely not like whatever death had in store for him.

"If Death doesn't get to him before I do..." Jason said off-handedly, "She's like...super pissed off Bruce put her grandbaby in harm's way. She's already making the Joker regret even existing. I pity Bruce, honestly. His death won't be the least peaceful."

Dick swallowed, searching his face, then nodded firmly, probably deciding it was best for his sanity not to question or think too much about Jason's statement. He reached out to Jason and grasped his shoulder instead, "Whatever you need Jason, I'll do whatever you need."

But what did Jason need?

"I just need you to my brother. Just my brother, nothing more, nothing less."

"As for the others...It will really be up to them, but they have a lot to do in order to gain my trust and my forgiveness. And I will not be changing who I am just to please them. They will either meet me as I am or not at all."

"Also, they will have to gain the approval of my family before I let them back in completely." He gestured widely at Danny and Dani and everyone that stood around them, doing their own thing. "That means everyone at this party." Jason shrugged, "They're rather protective of me...and I couldn't convince them otherwise."

The look of pure unadulterated rage when Danny had seen the scar on Jason's throat was one that had promised violence. It had taken Jason a good minute to calm him down-actually it had taken Jason a good minute to calm every single person who saw the scar-especially when they had figured out who had dealt it. Ghosts were emotional beings and a scar on your throat surrounded by the faint emotional marking of betrayal and shock tended to leave a lot of his fraid members with homicidal tendencies...

Needless to say, Death would not be the only one who would be visiting Bruce when his time came.

Dick smiled then nodded, looking as if a huge weight had fallen off his shoulders, but also looking like he had received a mission that he would do everything in his power to carry out.

"Let's get back to the party, yeah?" Jason offered, "I have a lot of family I'd like to introduce you to."

With that, Jason led Dick back to his waiting husband, scooping his daughter back his arms and purring contentedly when she snuggled in closer. He could feel a new chapter in his life opening, and an old one closing behind him.

"Hey guys, this is my brother, Dick."

"How unfortunate," Vlad said minutely as he took another sip of his wine.

Late to the party as always, Dan glowered at the man, unimpressed and quite capable of holding grudges against people who hurt those he cared about. Dick shrank back. "He looks like a bitch." Jazz elbowed him but he merely turned away with a roll of his eyes.

Dani snorted, "Yeah, he cries a lot."

'See.' Dan gestured silently, 'I was right,' before he turned back to his burger ignoring everyone around him.

"Hey," Dick said in a mild protest, though there was no heat in it and a slightly awkward but wide smile graced his lips.

Danny and Jazz shared an amused glance, Maddie shook her head at their antics and Jack merely boomed out a laugh before slapping a hearty hand on Dick's shoulder, causing him to stumble from the brute force of it.

"Welcome to the family, Dick!"

Jason snickered at the wide eyed startled glance Dick shot his way before sighing as he watched Tuck and Sam narrow their gazes at his brother, then shot narrowed glances at each other.

"Quick question, do you eat meat like a normal person?" Tucker shouted from his spot in front of the grill. Sam scowled. Weston grinned widely, Val rolled her eyes and the rest of the family just let out varying degrees of exasperated sighs.

Above them Kitty and Johnny 13 groaned. "By the ancients, they're worse than us, sometimes..."

"Here we go again..." Danny sighed, and Jason scooped him up into a side hug, leaning heavily against him, feeling a warmth bloom into his chest now that he had his husband and daughter in his arms and had everyone that he loved surrounding him. He pressed a chast kiss against his husband's cheek.

It was good to be home.

"I love you, Danny."

"And I love you, Jason."

The End.

The End of 'If I could love you, I would. (Soulfully, you know I would.)', 'Would you love me as I am, not as you remember me?', 'When I left the past behind...I left you behind too', 'My hands were made to be gentle, even if they are rough around the edges (Even as they pull a trigger now)', 'The wrath of a king pales in comparison to that of a father or that of a husband (If a king can be worthy enough to be compared to a father or a husband)' and 'I will love you through all the changes of the seasons (And with all the small changes in you, I would fall in love. Yes, all over again, I would).'

Thank you for reading to the end.

I plan to have a p.o.v from Dick's side of things, but no guarantees when that will come out. Only that it will, eventually...

[somewhereintheruins]

I will love you through all the changes of the seasons (And with all the small changes in you, I would fall in love. Yes, all over again, I would.)

Dead on main

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here

Part 4 here Part 5 here

The King stood before Jason, his wrath apparent, his cape fluttering behind him, galaxies ending and birthing among the seams of the cloak, his aura commanding and domineering-ruthless in his oppression. His face was a mixture of a King-cold and regal-and that of a father-enraged and incited to vengeful wrath. His pure snow white hair fell over his glowing lazarus green eyes and Jason couldn't help but find himself bewitched by them.

How many times had he dreamt of such a gaze?

Had Danny dreamed of him? Had he too longed for Jason? Or-Jason felt the fire turning into a blaze-combating the coldness of the air, melting the spreading ice-or was Jason just a fool? Waiting for a lover who was waiting for someone else? Who was in love with a memory?

Enraged, Jason met the wrathful King's gaze with his own...Then everything seemed to freeze and it seemed as if time itself stopped.

...

For a moment, pure shock slackened the King's features, he stumbled back slightly, his eyes wide with shock, his frame bone weary-as if weighed down by years of loss and grief. There were signs of defeat in his eyes, but in the moment they had meant Jason's, something stirred to life.

Danny's mouth opened but words seemed to have fled him. He faltered, hope widening his eyes but years of being denied-of being given false hope-had made him jaded. Even as the King hoped, he did not believe. His strength to believe had been robbed from him long ago-the same day Jason had vanished and he had not returned.

"Jason?" The smallest of whispers graced Danny's lips, echoing in the stillness of the warehouse.

Around him, Jason felt the Bats and the Birds stiffen and jerk-saw Dick renew his efforts to stand beside him, to confront whatever threat this was together. But they didn't matter, only the daughter in his arms and the man standing before him mattered.

One small whisper, one hopeful broken smile and just like that, all of Jason's anger-all of his wrath-faded.

Hope-such a fragile thing-such a hard thing to kill.

"Danny." He whispered back, his own voice cradling Danny's name like it was something so precious, something so beloved. And it was, so dearly that Jason loved Danny.

Did Danny still love him?-Could he-would he love Jason again?

"Is it you?"

"Is it really you? Jason?" His voice was fragile, filled with broken hope, like a bird that had fallen and could not trust his own wings, could no longer trust the wind to carry him.

Danny jerked forward, reaching outward towards Jason-hand outstretched before it fell-"Or am I dreaming once more?" He questioned himself.

"Have I truly found you, Jason?"

His gaze moved over Jason, analyzing, trying to find discrepancies, to find the trick, to find the the lie that fooled the ardent hope that eventually led to his heart being broken once more for daring to try again-to hope again. How many times must Danny's heart be broken before he learned not to hope anymore?

Countless. Danny would never stop hoping to find Jason. Even in all the agony, Danny would never stop hoping until he had his Jason in his arms again-For to stop hoping would mean to give up on Jason-and Danny would never give up on Jason.

The more Danny's eyes roamed, the more uncertain-yet at the same time sure that this was his Jason-if just a little different-"You look different..."

And the single whisper seemed to stab Jason in his heart.

"Your eyes look tired" Danny said, but his own eyes carried the same fatigue, didn't they? "Your smile..."He closed his eyes in nostalgic remembrance... "Would you still smile the same way?-At me, could you-would you smile?"

Danny shook his head, eyes going distant, unfocused, "I'm dreaming again-aren't I?" A fragile smile graced his lips, "You're not really here, are you?" A sharp laugh burst from his laugh, full of self-deprecation and grief. "How long must I wait-have I not waited enough?" His voice broke, his form slumping over slightly.

"How long has it been now?" He dragged a hand roughly down his face, defeat evident. "It feels like an eternity..." He whispered, voice ragged as if he had shouted til he had lost his voice. "-I'll wait an eternity-but by the ancients-how much longer..."

Jason closed his eyes, because perhaps the man Danny was waiting for was truly gone. Perhaps Danny was truly waiting for a man that would never return.

"I-" Jason's own voice broke, sounding loud-too loud in the silence of a man waiting for someone that may no longer exist. "I am not the man you are looking for." His voice felt stilted, like blocks tumbling out of his mouth. "I am not the man you fell in love with."

Confusion fell upon Danny-his frame stilling, eyes becoming silent and unreadable. Like a madman unleashed, Jason plowed on, his voice growing louder, his chest pounding in the way that was most familiar, hands clenching, knuckles feeling numb. Jason's grip on Ellie tightened, but he kept the grip gentle-he would bring no harm to his daughter.

His hands didn't need to shake in pain anymore, didn't need to clench in rage, his knuckles didn't need to be roughed up enough to bleed or ache for people who did not appreciate Jason's countless sacrifices to his core values, instead, he would do it for his people-the people of Crime Alley-and his hands, however rough they were, could have a softer purpose when he was with them.

"I am not the Queen you once ruled beside." Death rustled around him, and Danny's eyes caught the sight, his eyes widening as his gaze fell onto Death and his daughter that was wrapped protectively in both Jason's and Death's gentle hands.

"I am not a man that is adored-nor am I kind and gentle like the husband you married." Jason's body trembled, feeling his strength leaving him with each word, his confession robbing him of his composure. He could feel himself cracking-

A son reduced to a soldier-forced to wait for scraps-of love-of acceptance-forced to reduce all that he was to garner approval-humiliated-discarded-left behind-replaced. Lost and forgotten.

"I am not the same man-I am not the love you knew before. My heart is changed-I'm changed-I'm different." He struggled to explain, words failing him, unable to express all the ways that Jason had changed, how he was not the same man that was once loved-so ardently loved and cherished. Jason had changed-he was not the same.

Jason was tired of dreaming-would he only ever find happiness in realities that weren't real? That were left behind in the past? Was Jason's chance of happiness truly left in the past? Could Danny learn to love him again?

Say that you love me-that you want me, only me, not the 'me' that you remember.

"I don't love-I don't think I remember how to love right-I do it wrong-and to be loved-It's been so long-I think I forgot...His voice broke. "I think I'm broken..."

It must be. Why else would everyone think he was not enough?-Something must have been irreparably damaged when he had died that second time. He must have lost something.

The living lost their lives by dying, it wouldn't be incorrect to assume that the dead lost something when they returned.

"Danny-I...His voice went silent, "I am not the man you once adored."

Danny's silence, the incomprehension on his face was too much for Jason, he fumbled, trying to find more words but Jason was tired-and his body was shaky and his head was pounding-making it difficult to think-and he really felt like he needed to throw up.

Still-Jason hoped-Jason still-

But even bloody, broken and barely beating, Jason's heart had always found a way to love people, even when they always eventually let him down. Even when his heart had stopped beating, Jason had still loved.

Could Danny find a way to love Jason? Even in all his brokenness?

"Would-could you fall in love with me again?-Even if I'm different, even with everything that has changed? Would-Could you love me all the same?"

Jason laughed-and even his laugh sounded broken-never hating himself more than he did at this moment. "I know that you've been waiting-Waiting for the man you love-but..." He stole a breath of air, throat feeling tight and lungs feeling as if they were filling with smoke. "I'm different. I am not the man you loved..."

"I've done things..."

Danny tilted his head, a worried expression contributing to his exhausted appearance. "What happened, Jason?" His voice was gentle. Oh-so gentle and Jason had forgotten the last time anyone had spoken to him in such a gentle tone, like words could leave scars if spoken to harshly. Like Jason's heart was worthy of being protected from too harsh words.

He stilled, finally unable to keep the tears at bay, "Hurt people-a lot of people-even people I cared about and...-and I killed a lot of people-they deserved it-but still..." His voice trembled.

"Danny..." He croaked out. "I've done so many things I can't take back-even still..."

Was it selfish to still want someone to love Jason, even after everything he had done?

Even in all his rage and grief at being abandoned, forgotten, of not being chosen or being replaced, Jason had never made it a secret that he just wanted to be loved back.As much as he had loved, not less, or almost, just as much. With every drop of love that Jason's heart had squeezed from his veins, Jason wanted to be loved back, just as much, with just as much devotion and wrath.

"Would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I've done-the things I can't undo? I am not the man you are waiting for-not anymore. Danny, I've changed."

Danny took a step forward, a step closer to Jason, and Jason flinched back as if he had been hit.

"And I forgot-Danny I forgot about you-and I was so angry-so, so angry-and I'm still so angry-Danny!" Jason took in a ragged breath, "Could you really love this? Love me as what I am?"

Danny's eyes flickered with tears, "Oh my Jason, my sweet Jason, what makes you think I can't?"

Something in Jason cracked, and words unbidden ripped from Jason's throat and for a moment his throat felt so raw that he thought a batarang had ripped it open once more.

"Because they couldn't!" The screamed words echoed out in the warehouse and helplessly, Jason looked towards the now long cold body of the Joker.

Because Bruce was Batman, and Batman would always choose to 'save' a rogue rather than save his 'son'.

Jason gestured wordlessly, over towards the silent Bats and Birds who had now learned that struggling was useless. He could feel their gazes on him, tearing into him, judging him, forgetting and replacing him, deeming him unworthy of being a son.

A sob broke through Jason's clenched teeth. He could feel tears dripping down his face, could feel Dani in his arms, could feel the soft reassurance, the unending love that she sent towards him. Could feel Death wrapping herself around him tighter, trying to protect him, to assure that he was loved, that he was enough.

But Jason couldn't quite believe them. It was too good to be true-and Jason didn't deserve good things.

Before him, Dick broke through his shock, despair hunching his figure, "Jason, that's not true! We-" Like a dam, voices of the Bat-family joined the protest.

For the first time that evening, Danny acted on his anger, his gentle features falling from his face and morphing into one of wrath.

"Silence!" His voice bloomed and Dick and the rest of the Bats and Birds winced, groaning as their ears began to bleed and the pressure intensified. Jason vaguely heard Red Robin collapse further, his knees no longer able to keep him upright, Spoiler and Robin followed soon after.

"You have done more than enough." His eyes flickered as he passed an unforgiving gaze upon them, swirling lazarus green irises glowing in response to his rage.

Jason flinched, wondering if soon that gaze would be directed at him as well.

But it was in vain, for the moment Danny looked at him, his gaze softened, eyes sad. "My sweet Jason, what have they done to you?"

Jason gaze fell, unable to accept the kindness directed at him, "Nothing I didn't deserve." It was true, Jason had done just as much as they had done to him.

Danny's voice hardened, "I see." Then something shifted, and a coaxing lilt could be heard. "Jason...you are my Jason, my husband, my Queen, no?"

Jason froze then hung his head, "No, not the one you knew. I...I'm sorry." There was something like defeat spoken alongside those words. But Jason was tired, tired of hoping, tired of waiting around for someone to love him. There was a pattern and it was becoming abundantly clear that the 'Jason that was loved' and the 'Jason' that Jason was, were two different people.

Then Danny sighed and Jason felt like his heart was breaking all over again. "If that's true, could you do something for me?" Danny's voice was soft but firm, ringing out with finality. There would be no dissent allowed, this was a command hidden behind a question.

Jason stomach sank, and he felt like throwing up, but he forced himself to look up, to meet Danny's gaze, and nod in acquiesce.

Danny pointed at Jason, "The crown that was bestowed upon you by the infinite realms and our wedding ring, can you take them off and destroy them, can you sever the last connection between us?"

Jason's heart shattered and he felt Dani gasp in his arms, even Death froze in alarm.

"How could you ask me this?" Jason asked, voice hallow-a mere rasp now-Jason himself felt hollow. He had never thought Danny would ever ask him something like this. Never.

"I had forged those rings with my own hands-mined their metals from meteors from the sky you loved so much, melted them down with the fire of the stars and my own core." Jason felt his despair rising-had Danny truly abandoned him as well? "A symbol of my love for you-'eternal love, forever yours' inscribed with my own blood-my own essence and yours were entwined together to make them!"

Anger flickered, then rose, roaring in Jason's ears. "Do you realize what you have asked me?-The only way to destroy those rings-the crowns-is for one of us to be destroyed. They are eternal, a reflection of us! You ask the impossible of me!"

Danny smiled, "Only my Jason-my husband, my Queen knew the impossibility, knew his ardent devotion to me, yet you claim to be not him?"

"The impossibility of me not loving you anymore...dont' you know that it is impossible?" Danny whispered, but it was as if he had shouted, for everything that was listening came to a stop.

Jason's eyes widened, feeling his chest heaving, feeling his emotions whirling around him-settling into shock-and then softness. Of course, of course...

"Danny." Jason said, his voice reverent-filled with fragile hope, still a smidge of protest made it way past.

Danny shook his head, stepping forward once more, "You ask me to fall in love with you again-" And Danny laughed, tears falling down his face, "As if I had stopped loving you!"

He took another step forward, but this time Jason could not jerk back or find it himself to move away, he was frozen, at the mercy of his lover, his everything, his eternity.

"But if you must know-if you are so uncertain-" Danny's stare was intense, boring into Jason's as if peering into his soul-and perhaps, maybe he was. "I will fall in love with you over and over again-" A determined shine was reflecting off of Danny's eyes and-Jason had never ever seen anything quite so beautiful before.

"-I don't care how, where or when!" Danny took another step forward. Each step forward was like a beat of Jason's heart.

"No matter how long it's been you are mine!" Another step forward and Jason's heart stumbled like a newborn foal. He could feel tears streaming down his face but this time they were not those of despair.

"Don't tell me you're not the same person!" And Danny's voice rang out with such a ferocity that he could feel his core shake with the timber, recognizing Danny's claim-his core called out to Jason's, "The core of you has not changed! You still call out to me!"

And Jason's core responded, like hearts synchronizing, they beat as one.

"You are always my husband," Jason trembled as Danny finally stepped into arm length, so close and yet so far, "-and I've been waiting!"

"Waiting for you!" Danny said firmly, "Only you! Always you!" He cried out, voice hoarse from emotions of longing and unfulfilled yearning. With a shaky hand, Danny cupped Jason's cheek-and never before had Jason felt anything so wonderful, so...

Warm.

"Danny..." He whispered, leaning into his husband's touch, staring into Danny's eyes that were filled with wonder and slight disbelief, as if he still could not believe Jason stood before him.

There was a silence between the two men as they drank each other in, categorizing each new scar-the scars on their hearts and on their bodies that had not been there before-the wary and heaviness that they would now help each other carry-and the grief that had changed them both.

"I am not the same as I was, either, Jason. I've changed as well. Do you find yourself unable to love me?"

"No," Jason shook his head vehemently before he cupped Danny's hand that was holding his face ever so gently, entwining their fingers together and kissing his palm gently, reverently so, "No matter how much you've changed, my love for you will not-I will only fall in love with the little changes in you."

Danny's eyes softened as he let out a small huff of exasperation, "And yet somehow," he raised an eyebrow, "you thought I would not be capable of the same thing." He sighed, "Falling in love with you the first time was not hard-falling in love with you over and over again should not be so hard either."

Then he smiled gently, his eyes full of adoration, "Even now, I am falling in love with you again, my sweet Jason. Telling me you've changed does not change how I feel about you, no matter how long it's been, I will always love you."

Jason swallowed, eyes feeling sore and irritated, but his heart feeling light and so filled with love and pure warmth. With revelation and reverence, Jason stood before Danny. How wonderful it was to be surrounded by the people who loved him. Then and there, Jason felt like he could do anything. Including believing that he was loved.

(Here he stood surrounded by destruction, and yet he had never felt more free. The aftermath of his death surrounded him and Jason had screamed 'I live, I'm alive, I will live' and never before had he screamed so loudly. Jason was alive and the living waited for no one, not even for those that had died.)

"How long has it been?" He whispered, needing to know how long Danny had suffered without him. How long had Danny waited for him? Never again, never again would Danny have to wait so long.

"Twenty years." Danny whispered back, his voice heavy with remembered grief.

Jason closed his eyes. For twenty years Danny had waited for him. For twenty years he had mourned him, remembered him and had sought him out. For twenty years he had never replaced him and now as he stood before him, he accepted and loved him as he was. Now as he stood before him, Danny only ever wanted to help shoulder his burden and love him.

In his arms, Dani shifted, and Jason pressed a kiss on top of her head, wanting to smooth out her hair, but unable to with one arm carrying her and the other in Danny's grasp. Jason never wanted to let go-of either of them. Around him, Death fluttered softly, chirping softly like a mother bird to her chicks.

Jason could finally believe it.

How loved Jason was.

"I love you." He whispered, letting the words and his core express the feeling of pure adoration and devotion he had for this man. For the people that had waited for him and loved him as he was.

Words could not describe the love Jason had for his family. He didn't think they'd ever would. But 'I love you' was a start.

Danny's eyes crinkled softly as tears spilled on his cheeks, "I love you, too, Jason."

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Danny reached out to scoop both Jason and Dani into his arms, pressing a firm kiss on Jason's lips.

With a wiggle, Dani finally let her revulsion shine through, "Nope! You two are not smashing faces with me in the middle-it's been twenty years! You are not-" With an over-exaggerated gag, Dani wiggled free from Jason and stumbled away like a shell-shocked soldier.

"After all I've been through today!-That was probably the worst-most traumatizing experience in my entire life." She shivered in disgust, a look of pure horror plastered over her features.

Danny rolled his eyes, meeting Jason's gaze fondly as they looked at their melodramatic daughter.

Danny giggled, "She gets that from you," he accused playfully.

Jason chuckled, "Probably, I've been known to dramatize things a bit," Then he winked playfully-if only slightly wetly-because it had been such a long time since Jason had felt this at ease and this free to be himself-"But that just makes it all the more fun."

Danny laughed and Jason felt himself falling in love all over again.

Yes, it seems Danny was right. All these changes in one another would not be able to override the love they had for one another. The changes were simply small things that Jason would discover and fall in love with. Again, Jason would fall in love with Danny all over again.

Just like Danny would. All the changes Danny would find, Jason was sure, Danny would no doubt fall in love with each one, no matter how small or big.

Yes, how loved Jason truly was.

Holding Danny tightly against him, Jason let all his walls collapse, felt all his fear leaving him as Danny gave him the courage to believe again. Jason could believe that he was worthy of love, and in Danny's arms, he knew he was loved, ardently so.

Green eyes, the color of swirling lazarus green gazed into his, and Jason could feel himself falling into them, forgetting everything else. Nothing else mattered anymore-

"Before y'all start smooching again, what are we going to do with our Bats and Birds problem?"

Danny blinked owlishly and Jason snapped back to reality. "Uhh" He said dumbly, blinking as he turned to look at the prostrated Batclan.

"Oh, shit, I forgot about those guys." Danny said sheepishly before glancing over at Jason, looking for reassurance, "People you know?"

Jason shrugged, "Acquaintances." (Though from the narrowed look in Danny's eyes he knew the other man didn't quite buy it.) Then he looked over Danny's shoulder to the crumbled Nightwing that was looking at him with sad dejected eyes, tear streaks and snot maring his face.

Dani glanced at him as well, "Ugh!" Then shook her head in disgust. "I am not touching that."

"Well, Dickface over there is my brother."

Dani's face wrinkled, "Ugh-he's crying again-ew!" She shivered in disgust, "He's the grabby type too. I do not need him all over me." Then she turned accusing eyes at Jason, "You just had to give me a snot-faced uncle-didn't you?"

A whimper escaped Dick at the title of 'Uncle' and Dani turned to look at him, squinting slightly, "Is it normal for him to cry this much?"

Jason looked at his snot-faced brother, at his red rimmed eyes, face puffy from crying and overall in a state of mess. "Yeah..."

Jason shrugged, "Yeah, pretty much."

Dick shot him a glare but he couldn't quite make it look fierce or put any heat into the look, not when his face was being smashed into the concrete and not when he looked happy enough to do some of those handstands and backflips he usually did.

Jason shot his husband a glance and Danny flushed, "Oh my ancients-this is not a good first impression with an in-law!" Flustered, Danny waved his hand quickly and Dick finally sprang up with a groan, rolling his shoulders and shaking out his joints before he launched himself at both Danny and Jason and pulled them into a bone crushing hug.

The only reason he had not grabbed Dani was because she had had the foresight to distance herself and dodge his attack.

'Lucky her...' Jason grumbled, internally, as he tried in vain to push his clingy octopus brother away from him and his husband.

Sobbing, Dick clung onto both of them. "Welcome to the family!" He then promptly dissolved into 'I'm so sorry, Jaybird's and 'I love you so much's. Jason blocked him out after the 4th 'I'm sorry'. This was too much emotions for one day, in Jason's opinion.

Danny shot his husband a pinicked glance, but Jason could only shrug as he gave up his struggle to get away. "It'll go by faster if you just let him do whatever he wants." Honestly, Jason was much too tired to fight his brother.

"Oh..." Danny said blankly, patting Dick's shoulder gingerly.

"At least he's not using your shirt to wipe his face."

"And that's exactly why I didn't let him catch me." Dani called from a safe distance of 6 feet.

Danny glanced at her, then back at Jason, "And what should I do with the rest?"

Jason gave them a cool glance, noticing how Dick's hold stiffened slightly, "The Bats and Birds are not allowed in Crime Alley." He shrugged, "Perhaps help them find their way out."

Jason core was much too tired to do anything else besides send Danny and Dani-Death too-emotional feedback of love and warmth and receive it in return. He would trust his husband's judgment in regards to them.

Danny nodded, giving them a cool glance as well, "Very well, one smooth escort out of Crime Alley coming up!" And with a wave of his hand the Bat-Clan soundlessly fell into green portals.

Dick jerked back, eyes wide with panic and alarm, "What-!" He shot Jason a helpless glance, then a slightly pleading one to Danny.

Jason rolled his eyes, "Relax Dickbreath, Danny just teleported them outside of my turf."

"And I made them unable to come back!-Like one of those never ending hallways! If they step into Crime Alley they'll just be spit right back out." Danny said a bit proudly, "They won't be able to enter unless they were invited by one of the Crime Alley's people." Then he shot Jason an appeasing look, "You get total say of course, as this is your haunt. No doubt you'll be able to feel anyone trespassing after your core awakens further."

Jason shot him a tired but grateful look. It was nice to finally be supported, wholly and unconditionally.

"Did you just turn the Bat-Family into vampires?" Dani called from afar, laughing uproariously, "That's hilarious!" Then she paused, "Who calls themselves the Bats anyways?" She paused again, grin going wide, "Goes with the dark and gloomy theme they got going, anyways." She shrugged, "Bats and vampires." She mused.

Dick slumped in relief before an exhausted look crossed his features. "This is not gonna help with the eldritch rumors." Dick muttered tiredly.

Jason shrugged, "Not my problem."

"And oh-by the way," She shot a disgruntled look at her parents, "I'm crashing at Dick's place. No way I'm going home with you two-not when you guys haven't seen each other in twenty years." She gagged, then shivered in horror. "I've been traumatized enough for one day. No thank you!"

Jason didn't quite buy that excuse but he didn't dissent, neither did Danny. They knew when to pick and choose their battles with their daughter. This was not one they would win.

Jason could feel the suspicion and the protective need to investigate Dick radiating off of Ellie's small frame, all of it hidden behind her cheer but practically spoken to him through the communication of their cores. No doubt, Dick could read the suspicion hidden there, but Jason also had no doubt that he'd be using this opportunity to prove himself and win his spot as her favorite uncle.

Dick gave her wide hopeful eyes, and Dani narrowed hers, "But no funny business! You keep your hands to yourself!"

Dick nodded, head bobbing up and down, "Promise! No funny business," he crossed one hand over his heart, the other arm still wrapped around Jason and Danny, mostly Jason but Danny was wrapped around Jason so he really didn't have any other choice but to be trapped in Dick's embrace.

Jason grimaced, "Exactly." Agreeing with Ellie's rule.

At that, Dick shot him a confused glance and Jason found himself no longer willing to entertain his brother. "Get off me, Dickbrain! I've got a whole husband to woo!"

With a look of realization, Dick sprang away, embarrassment coloring his ears red. "Of course, Dani and I will be off right away." Then his smile turned lecherous, "I wouldn't mind having another niece or nephew to look after!" Dani gagged in the background and, vaguely in the corner of his eyes, he could see Danny turning pink.

Jason felt his own cheek growing warm and he growled out menacingly. "Go home, dick-and take care of my daughter or so help me-"

Not that he was really worried, as now that Dani remembered she was reincarnated, and had been visited by Death, thus prompting her core to fully awaken-she know had full range of her usual abilities and could, no doubt, defend herself quite easily even if multiple multiversal threats made themselves known. She was nigh impossible to hurt now, and even if she was, her regenerative abilities would heal her-like they had already healed her now. There was also the fact that the Joker was now dead, making Jason not so hesitant to leave his daughter in the care of Dick.

Dick raised his hands in a placating gesture as he snickered cheekily, "Yup! Yup! Got it! Homemade meals and bedtime at 9! Got it, no need to remind me!" Then his eyes softened as he looked at Jason, "Thank you for trusting me, Little Wing-and thank you for giving me another chance." Then as quick as a flash, the moment was over. "Also, I can tell when you're using 'dick' as an insult."

Jason rolled his eyes, feeling slightly uncomfortable, "Whatever, we'll be back tomorrow morning to pick our daughter up." Then he glanced at Ellie, "We'll send Jazz if something comes up."

Dani rolled her eyes, "20 years. Just send Jazz to come pick me up in a week, don't bother with your excuses." Not that Dani was incapable of taking care of herself, just that Jason was a worrywort. He silently thanked her for amusing him, but Dani merely shrugged in response-probably knowing his need to ensure everyone's safety after such a close call.

Beside him, Danny's pretty pink turned into a deep crimson red and Jason couldn't help gazing at him in adoration.

Dick, coughed, "Right then, we'll be off then-give you love birds some privacy."

Jason grunted, then turned his gaze to the fallen Joker. He'd have to get his men to clean the mess up....

"Just go, I'll take care of everything here." Dick gave him an earnest look, "You deserve a break, Little Wing." Jason shot him a grateful look.

Then Dani piped up, "Don't worry, I'll make sure he does everything the Crime Alley way."

Jason sent his daughter a grateful glance, then shot Dick another glance to make sure Dick got the message to take care of his daughter, before he turned back to his husband. Exhaustion was on the forefront of his mind and all Jason wanted to do was go home and sleep in Danny's embrace.

It had been such a long time...

Tired, exhausted, and drained, Jason buried himself in the arms of the man that had waited for him for twenty years. Finally, after all this time, he finally knew peace.

With another wave of his hand, Danny opened up a portal towards home and both of them stepped through, right back to the rest of everything that Jason had lost. As the portal closed behind them, he heard Dani shout out, "One week! I need my happy reunion with Dad just as much as you do Danny!"

Then the realm with swirling lazarus green welcomed back her Queen and King, quickly rushing to help care for his core. Death chirped a final note of love before she faded into the background, off to carry out her other duties and give her chosen rulers some privacy.

Gently, Danny scooped his lover into his arms, crooning soft words of love and cherishment. It would be a long night, indeed. Not long enough, but it was a start.

Yes, how deeply loved Jason was.

Continuous of 'If I could love you, I would. (Soulfully, you know I would.)', 'Would you love me as I am, not as you remember me?', 'When I left the past behind...I left you behind too', 'My hands were made to be gentle, even if they are rough around the edges (Even as they pull a trigger now)' and, 'The wrath of a king pales in comparison to that of a father or that of a husband (If a king can be worthy enough to be compared to a father or a husband)'

Part 7

[somewhereintheruins]

The wrath of a king pales in comparison to that of a father or that of a husband (If a king can be worthy enough to be compared to a father or a husband)

Dead on main

Author's note: Thank you for your patience and support. I have read every single comment, and seen every single like and follow. I appreciate y'all guys. Anyways, have fun. :)

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here Part 4 here

Death's embrace had been gentle, like that of a mother comforting a struggling child, firm but gentle in the direction she had pulled Jason in. It was warm but dark in her eternal (-it had been eternal-it was supposed to be forever) embrace. Jason knew he was safe here, that no one would ever be able to hurt him again. He could rest, be content and know peace. Here, Jason had rested, tucked away from the troubles of life.

Death had granted him asylum, had taken his hand and had gently led him away into the afterlife. He had felt warmth then something shifted, and Jason stood in a realm of the dead, one of them, and knowing no more pain of life.

Then Death's gentle hands were gone-and while Jason had never truly seen her-Jason could still feel her all around him, gently encouraging him to move on, to find something for himself here in the fields and islands of lazarus green. Jason did not mourn for long, knowing someday, his family would join him here.

It would be later when Jason found out that this was not guaranteed, as only tragic poignant deaths filled with the strong energy of emotion-enough to create and form what Jason was-a ghost-would come to the infinite realms and become one of her people. Death had not delivered Jason to an afterlife like heaven, but to a realm of the dead-somewhere where they lived as the undead. Not everyone met tragic ends, some went peacefully, and moved on completely from their lives. Jason had not truly moved on, Jason's death had merely birthed him a new life. An undead life, but life nonetheless.

So Jason's hope to see his family faded-why would he hope to see them when he knew what that would mean? That they too had met a tragic end? Had experienced what he had? Jason would not hope that on anyone, so he had moved on the best he could.

He had made new friends in the form of Johnny 13 and Kitty, followed them to a sleepy little town called Amity Park and had met the love of his undead life-had met their daughter-and had settled down. Decades had gone by, as time had flowed faster in the realm of the dead, and Jason had fully settled into his role of being a husband, of being a father and eventually, of being a Queen.

Then once again, Jason had lost it all. But this time, there was no gentle guiding hand of death-and the green that had once comforted Jason, that had once been the color of his lover's and daughter's eyes-that had been the color to bring warmth and meaning to Jason's undead life-now had been the thing that had brought him blinding agony and torment. Jason still had no good reason for what had been done to him.

Jason had been resting peacefully before he had been ripped from Death-his kingdom, had mourned losing Death's sanctuary and the peace-the family she had offered him. Without her gentle touch, her gentle guidance, he had been lost and had quickly fallen into anger. The dead know peace, it's the living that have lost it, that are struggling to find it. Jason had lost peace when he had come back to life, he was not dead, he was alive and so the peace of death-and everything she offered him-had too been ripped from him.

He had lost his husband, his daughter, his friends, and his role of being Queen-he had lost his death. Again, Jason had lost his 'life'.

Worst, this time he did not get the privilege of keeping his memory-no, he had lost that too. Again, Jason had lost everything.

And he did not remember it.

He felt it though. Understood, deep down, that he had lost something-someone? And had become so filled with anger and rage and wrath that eventually Jason had lost his sanity, too.

He was a Queen without his kingdom, a husband without his lover, a father without his daughter, a friend without friends, a son without gentle guiding hands, stranded in a strange world that was no longer his. Jason was dead, forced into the world of the living-surrounded by everything he had lost in his first death and consumed by everything he had lost in his second.

Because Jason truly had died a second time when they had revived him-when they had ripped the afterlife from his veins and had killed him again. The living and their selfish thinking that all those that had died wanted to be alive again-they could not understand that you did not have to be alive to live, you just had to move on. And Jason had moved on-only for all of Jason's progress in death to be ripped out of his hands so he could prove himself to useful-again-for people who did not truly want or love him.

Only for all the progress in life to be looked down upon and judged because it did not fit the antiquated moralities of a family that had forgotten him, replaced him and had only ever seen him as a soldier.

A Queen reduced to rags and wrath-forgotten and dismissed-reduced to a mere soldier, a pawn in other people's games. Yes, Jason, twice fold, had lost everything, did that not entitle him to rage? Or had he not earned that yet? How many more times did Jason have to prove his use for his anger to matter? For his pain? How much loss did Jason have to experience before his pain was deemed worthy of rage? The rage filling his chest was far better than the pure agony of loss that Jason had felt.

Did his lack of memory of everything he had lost mitigate the pain he had felt?

Even now, as he held his daughter against his chest, having found someone he had lost, feeling her breath against him, Jason could only instinctively understand that she was his daughter. He could not yet remember-could only feel the grief that losing her had brought him-what almost losing her again had done to him. Jason still could not remember all that he had lost, but he could feel it. Jason would always feel the absence. The grief he had felt of losing...everything.

The grief of almost losing his daughter again.

How much more did Jason stand to lose? Why did Jason had to lose everything? He had not chosen to die the first time. Nor had he chosen to die the second time. Why must those that die lose everything they held dear? Where was the fairness in that? Everyone only cared about the pain the living went through, but no one cared for the pain of the dead. The living lost someone dear to them, but it was the dead that lost everything. Twice, Jason had lost everything. How much more did he stand to lose?

There was a rage that came with that grief. Of having to endure the pain of losing everything. Was there truly nothing Jason was allowed to keep? Was he really unworthy? What had decided that Jason was unworthy of being loved? But there was also a numb emptiness.

As Jason stared at the green that was overtaking the room, in the aftermath of not being chosen over the Joker-again, only one sentiment mattered to him.

'Am I really not enough?'

Because when Jason had chosen his daughter, it had been the easiest decision he had ever made. So what made Jason so different?

'Am I really so unworthy of being loved? Of being picked?'

There was an answer, but Jason wasn't sure he quite liked it. No, he sensed, with a rising despair, that it would destroy him if he ever managed to form the thought.

Some people would never love you as much as you loved them, sometimes not even in the same way, if they even loved you at all.

What was so wrong with Jason-

Something suddenly came to be, and the green light was suddenly accompanied by a 'darkness'. No one else reacted, no one except his daughter, who showed no alarm. Jason could tell that she found the presence comforting, as much as she found his.

Who was this being?

Flashes of a crown-of a crowd-cheers-a throne room with two thrones-a gentle hand holding his-leading him-choosing him to be-

'My son, my Queen. I have finally found you.'

Jason shifted, feeling the subtle darkness in the room coalescing around his and his daughters form. A simple answer, a revelation, a greeting from a mother, the acknowledgment of who he was before he had forgotten-a son, a Queen-was all that was needed to stall Jason's desperate question and block the thoughts that would have destroyed Jason.

It was the feeling of unending unconditional love coming from this being that stunned Jason. Surely, this is what it felt to be loved by a mother?

Jason was...He didn't need to wait around for people to figure out he was worthy-that he was enough! He was loved, wasn't he? He was a son?

He looked down at Dani who was nestling in the arms of her father, surrounded by Death-a mother who protected her children fiercely.

He was a father.

And Jason started to remember...

Flashes of green islands-a beautiful smile-someone holding his hand-the sound of laughter-and the feeling of being love-spiraling castles and-

Only flashes...still only flashes...Jason needed more-he remembered something?

He had forgotten that...-he remembered that Death had chosen him as Queen-as her champion, as her child firstly-always as her child before anything else. He remembered that he reigned over her people as their protector, an equal to their King, his lover. Worthy enough to become Queen, enough to be beloved by his people, chosen as Death's Champion. Loved and cherished as Death's son, chosen as a father, and as a lover.

The only entity that had loved him as her child, and solely as her child-and had guided him gently-even in all his wrath-she had never abandoned or had forgotten him-she had lost him. Just like Ellie had lost him, and just like...Danny...

...?

Danny?

Death...

Jason welcomed her touch, letting her calm his raging and chaotic mind, letting her hang from his shoulders like a cloak-not as colorful as the one he started off with, but just as comfortable-just as dear. It reminded him of Bruce's gentle touch, in the way that Bruce had once pulled him deeper in his embrace, his cloak and the shadows of the night concealing them both.

When Jason had died, he had lost his father's gentle touch and when he had been revived he had lost the maternal touch of Death.

Just how much had Jason lost?

He was the Queen of infinite realms, a chosen child of Death-why did Jason have to lose so much?

Was Jason going to lose Danny too? To forget and lose him was one thing, to remember him and lose him anyways, was another. This time, it would be by choice, this time Jason would have truly lost him.

Now, as the room began to glow in a lazarous green shine, Jason felt Death take his hand again, but this time she did not lead Jason away from everything he had lost-this time...This time she led him back. The question was, would he be welcomed back? He had not been before. He felt her silent apology, felt her mourning his loss like he mourned it himself-like he mourned all that he had lost.

It was nice...to finally have someone willing to stand by his side and mourn with him for all he had lost, rather than mourn him for having changed, for being different. Grief changed people, Death understood that. Jason would not have to doubt Death's understanding. He could feel it.

But...Jason was beginning to become angry. The shock of almost losing his daughter and the fatigue of dealing with the Joker and Batman was wearing off, now anger was coming forth. Anger of having almost lost it all-again!

Anger of being denied his anger for so long, for having lost so much-!

Jason felt Death rise to meet his anger-her own coming forth in response to having lost him and he welcomed it as a balm to his own wrath. It was nice to know someone was just as angry as he was, that someone would not shame this anger and could understand-wanted to understand and wanted to be angry with him. Not against-never against. Death would always be on his side, she had chosen him after all.

Because Bruce was Batman, and Batman would always choose to 'save' a rogue rather than save his 'son'.

A faint scar crossing over his esophagus was answer enough, but Jason had always been a fool when it came to his heart. And his heart had always believed in second chances, hadn't it? He had had a second chance in life, why not in this?

Death had given Jason a second chance.

To be angry, to be wrathful, to be a son, to be loved.

Jason felt as she wrapped protectively around his daughter, around him-her Queen and Princess once again in her reach. With her acknowledgement, Jason felt death once again begin to fill his veins-he was dying-he was coming to death(unlife)? And his core, which had been in a slumber, began to beat, stirring and awakening-and with it, Jason's memories-the ones that had not yet been remembered-all of what had been forgotten-sprang forth.

With each lurching beat, a new memory burst forward, jumbling together in a cacophony of sound, feeling-pure emotions of happiness, sadness, joy, pleasure, anger, love-and green light-visions of a nostalgic past that Jason had been forced to abandon.

The memories of green flashed before his eyes, in what felt to be a small eternity, and time seemed to both slow and speed up-both the present and the past vying for Jason's attention. All the love, the warmth, the years of ruling by the side of his King, of watching over their daughter-all of it bloomed inside of Jason's mind-shattering everything he thought he knew and everything of who he was.

Everything that Jason had lost...Stood surrounding him.

He knew, oh how he knew, with a deep sinking bone despairing feeling, that he would not be getting this back either.

A son reduced to a soldier-forced to wait for scraps-of love-of acceptance-forced to reduce all that he was to garner approval-humiliated-discarded-left behind-replaced. Lost and forgotten.

This time...

Would he lose Danny too now, now when he only just remembered what it felt like to be cherished by him?

The room in the manor that had once been his-now renovated into another memorial, frozen in time as to say he was not allowed back unless he could be the 'Jason' from before-as if the Jason he now was, was unworthy of making space for. Only welcomed if he fit the mold, otherwise thrown out and forgotten.

Would Danny also find him unworthy as he was now? Would he welcome him back or condemn him?

Or...

...had Jason truly been lost?-Or just deemed unworthy from the start? Forgotten because it was easier than to remember and mourn?

'Lost!' Death cried out in agony. She warped around him, fluttering in her distress. 'Never forgotten. Eternally beloved.'

'My child, my son!' In her mournful cries, Jason truly felt what it meant to be remembered. What it was like to be cherished enough to be mourned. To be worthy of being remembered and seen as a son-not a soldier. 'Never a soldier' She affirmed-and Jason felt her anger turn to wrath at the mere thought of it.

Of course, Death would never forget him. She had lost him. A mother would never forget her child, never try to replace her beloved son-nor use him for her own gains or try to conform him-break him into something usable.

'You are my Queen.' Death exclaimed.

A voice, male, echoing from his memories, joined hers. 'You are worthy just as you are.'

Jason's head pounded in his skull, a bead of blood dripping from his nose from the pure onslaught of information and emotional turret that had been rammed into his brain. His core sputtered, fire flickering as death fanned its flames.

A low chuckle-slightly hysterical, slightly cynical-ripped its way out of Jason's throat as he gazed in at the summoning sigil that was spreading across the floor, painted in the blood of the Joker, its green glow familiar.

And Jason remembered why it was familiar.

After all, he had waited so long for this...To remember why he loved this color so dearly, to be loved again by those swirling eyes of lazarus green...

Jason took a step forward then faltered...Took a look around at all the figures that surrounded him, at his brother that stood before him.

Death said he had been lost...that he had not been abandoned, that he was still beloved....but...

If even his own family could not love him as he was now, could Jason really hope that Danny still could? That he would? Or would he too mourn the 'Jason' of the past? Leave Jason behind for prettier memories?

The Joker may be dressed as a fool, but it was Jason that would always be the fool. But what would happen when Jason didn't want to be the fool anymore?

Beside him, Dick snapped his attention to what Jason was now currently sneering at, just in time to see the Joker's blood complete the sigil and the green Lazarus glow to become as bright as the morning sun.

Around them, the Bats and Birds widened their stances, some of them retreating into the shadows, attempting to use whatever darkness was left as a cover. Jason ignored them, they were not important-what they did was of no importance anymore.

It would always be important, how many of their actions had left scars on Jason's heart-left him faltering, doubting the love that had been offered so freely and unconditionally?

Jason was tired of them-tired of everything-and angry. Both angry and tired of being the fool.

Jason was done waiting. Of being the fool hoping to be chosen.

Why did he believe that Batman would choose her?

He had not chosen him.

A faint scar crossing over his esophagus was answer enough, but Jason had always been a fool when it came to his heart. And his heart had always believed in second chances, hadn't it? He had had a second chance in life, why not in this?

Would Danny give him a second chance? Could he?

Jason was a Queen-he should have never been reduced to this!-This waiting!-And begging!-To be chosen, to be loved.

Dick-ever the protective big brother-stood in front of Jason, shielding both Jason and Dani from the eyes of whatever was being summoned-and Jason could tell, from the slight pressure and dread forming in his stomach that this being was powerful-and angry. No doubt, from how pale Dick had gone, that whatever he was feeling was worse than what Jason was feeling-and on a much larger scale.

After all, Jason was a Queen, the wrath of a King was a moot point.

As if he could ever hope to stand in front of the King of the infinite realms-to incur his wrath and survive-only his Queen could incur the King's wrath and survive.

But Jason was the his? Queen-and an angry one at that.

A King could only ever hope to survive after incurring his Queen's wrath.

With a flash of green light, the temperature in the room plummeted, causing Jason's breath to fog in the air. In his arms, Dani's barely awakened core chirped sleepily in response to her other father's presence and Jason's slowly awakening core. Weakly, Jason's core responded back and Dani's slightly tense body began to relax as the temperature lowered to a comfortable cold that both her father and her ice core enjoyed.

Jason's core flickered, fire rising.

"Shit!" With a muffled groan, Dick collapsed to his knees, his head bowed forward as he struggled to remain upright, a hand splayed out, a shaky arm bracing his now shivering body upright. His teeth chattered.

While the beam of light faltering signaled the end of the summoning, it was Dick collapsing to his knees that really indicated the arrival of a powerful figure. A glance around revealed a similar state to the rest of the Bats and Birds-even Batman had had no choice but to bow under the pressure.

Unimpressed, Jason continued to stand tall, the pressure of the King doing little to subjugate the Queen. A Queen never bowed, not even to a King. Not even when the King was displeased with the Queen. Would Danny be displeased with Jason?

Instead, he merely gazed ahead, his eyes slightly cold as he took in the figure in the middle of the sigil-heart cold and numb- and tired.

Say that you love me-that you want me, only me, not the 'me' that you remember.

Wrapped in a cloak painted in the infinite realms stars, stood the man Jason had been dreaming of ever since his second death. So much had changed since then.

Jason was tired of dreaming-would he only ever find happiness in realities that weren't real? That were left behind in the past? Was Jason's chance of happiness truly left in the past? Could Danny learn to love him again?

He could feel a stillness in the air, the air having become quiet as death's King stood in a realm of the living. Jason felt his rage flicker to life as he met the King's wrath with his own.

Jason, a lost husband, a betrayed son and a wrathful father had a lot to say to the King that had lost him.

Jason found, that his wrath-

It was nothing new.

Continuous of 'If I could love you, I would. (Soulfully, you know I would.)', 'Would you love me as I am, not as you remember me?', 'When I left the past behind...I left you behind too', and 'My hands were made to be gentle, even if they are rough around the edges (Even as they pull a trigger now)'

Part 6 Part 7

[somewhereintheruins]

My hands were made to be gentle, even if they are rough around the edges (Even as they pull a trigger now)

Dead on main

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here

Warning: Text contains blood and gore. Seriously, it's the Joker, of course it was gonna get bloody. Nothing too bad tho, in my opinion. Promise. ;)

The Joker had decided it was best to keep out of Crime Alley. Or Jason had assumed so since he had not seen 'cape or grappel' of the Bat since their last conversation. Overall the Bats had left him alone after Jason had banned them from Crime Alley, whether it was as their identities as a vigilante or as a civilian.

Jason should be relieved that they were finally respecting his 'boundaries' but he figured it was less of respect and more of the fact that they didn't want to be shot at. Which for the record, was a good reason to avoid anyone, regardless of how much you wanted to speak to someone.

Jason knew logically, why they would avoid him, but it was his foolish heart that didn't understand. Jason missed his family, even when he knew it was best to be away from them. After all, it was them that had been so careless with him to begin with. But even bloody, broken and barely beating, Jason's heart had always found a way to love people, even when they always eventually let him down. Even when his heart had stopped beating, Jason had still loved.

It was Willis Todd and his step-mother, Catherine Todd, that had been the first to be careless with Jason's heart, then it had been Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Sheila...the list went on. Even still, Jason had still found it in him to love.

Even in all his rage and grief at being abandoned, forgotten, of not being chosen or being replaced, Jason had never made it a secret that he just wanted to be loved back. As much as he had loved, not less, or almost, just as much. With every drop of love that Jason's heart had squeezed from his veins, Jason wanted to be loved back, just as much, with just as much devotion and wrath. Even in all his scathing remarks, Jason had just been vocalizing his pain, whether it was by calling Tim his 'replacement' or by screaming-raging, wordlessly at Bruce whenever he did something that inevitably showed Jason that Bruce would never choose him. Because Bruce was Batman, and Batman would always choose to 'save' a rogue rather than save his 'son'.

Jason understood that now, he had made peace with that now. Some people would never love you as much as you loved them, sometimes not even in the same way, if they even loved you at all. Jason didn't want to normalize that type of 'love' in his life, and he also didn't want to normalize his rage. Fortunately, most of his rage had dissipated the moment he had stopped waiting for the people in his life to see that he-Jason, not Robin, not Jason Todd-Wayne, just Jason, the Red Hood-was still here, if just different.

It was love for others, the desperation to be loved back, that made Jason wait for so long, to stay stuck (in misery and unhappiness and filled with rage), and now it was his love for himself that let him walk away, that let him see that he could have more. He could have peace.

His hands didn't need to shake in pain anymore, didn't need to clench in rage, his knuckles didn't need to be roughed up enough to bleed or ache for people who did not appreciate Jason's countless sacrifices to his core values, instead, he would do it for his people-the people of Crime Alley-and his hands, however rough they were, could have a softer purpose when he was with them.

He hoped to eventually give that same peace to the people of Crime Alley. It would take rough hands to get the job done but Jason had found that his hands were rough enough. It would take an even more gentle hand to keep that peace, but rougher hands had been gentler. Jason had no doubt that his would do just fine. And Jason was willing to do whatever he could to help the people of Crime Alley.

He would not allow the people of Crime Alley to be forgotten, to have their struggles to be overlooked or dismissed like his own had been, whether that had been just as Jason Peter Todd, as a Wayne or as Robin. Red Hood was a moniker for vengeance, but in time, he hoped, the people of Crime Alley would also see it as a symbol of hope. Just like Robin had been for Jason-should have always been-not ever as a soldier. Robin had never been made to be a soldier, even if the people around him had tried to turn him into one.

Robin had once started off on the quest for vengeance, broken and left behind by a world that did not care for his pain, now, in bright colors, he stood for hope. Jason hoped the same for Red Hood. That somehow, someway, Red Hood could be Crime Alley's Robin, even if he stood in less bright colors.

So Jason rallied, both as Jason-his civilian self-and as Red Hood to better the conditions of Crime Alley. He was not naive enough to think he could wipe out crime, but he could control it. He cleaned the drugs on the street, making sure it was safe to consume, made sure no one would sell to kids, then funded programs to help people get off the stuff. He gave people opportunities to make an 'honest' living by working under him and if not-by giving them a recommendation-or sometimes getting them out of Crime Alley all together.

After killing off Black Mask, as well as the other crime lords, Crime Alley was easier to manage, so helping the people directly instead of indirectly was easier now. People trusted him to help them, to give them a second chance-whether that came in the form of a job or as a program to help them get clean or an escape from it all.

Not to mention, Red Hoods infamous rule of never involving children in your crimes, no matter how 'desperate' you were. Jason had killed for less, and after he no longer had to constrain himself to the 'no-kill rule', people were well aware that Red Hood would not hesitate to put a bullet through your brain if you so much as touched or looked at a kid the wrong way. The children knew that, which is why they had slowly come to trust Red Hood as their 'safe' person to come to if something had gone wrong in their lives.

It was the most high honor that had ever been bestowed on Jason. No, he had not cried the first time it had happened. No, it had not reminded Jason of himself when he had been desperate and homeless and living on the streets after the death of his mother.

Red hood's rule also extended to women, even if they were 'working' girls. Anyone who put a hand on a woman would have Red Hood and his men to look forward to. By that, Red Hood's bullets, because Red Hood wasn't going to accept bullshit excuses of a man that used his fists. If a man was below using words, then Red Hood would not bother to use them to reason with him, he would simply put him below the ground. You could not reason with a violent man, hadn't Jason figured that under the outstretched hand of Willis Todd, his own father? Under the outstretched hand of the Joker, crowbar in hand?

Never again would Jason cower underneath an outstretched hand, neither would anyone else. Not if Jason had anything to do with it.

Red Hood was making Crime Alley a safer place, for everyone that lived there, even if the path had to be paved with blood. As long it was no longer the blood of the innocent, with the bodies of children and women lining those paths, Jason would be satisfied. But until then, Red Hood would be there. At the very least making sure they were avenged, that they were not forgotten, or dismissed, that they were mourned properly. Mourned and remembered as the children of Crime Alley, the lost sons and daughters, hope extinguished-but never as a soldier. Never as a soldier.

Jason hoped, with gentle hands, he could guide the children of Crime Alley away from the fate he had ended up with. He would never stop fighting for that.

With rough hands, Red Hood held a gun, fingers taunt around the trigger, barrels facing against men who had lost their humanity and any hope of redemption when they had crossed the line of hurting children and women. With gentle hands, Jason volunteered his spare time at the homeless shelters, handing out supplies, reading to the children and finding purpose in helping those around him.

With the rough hands of Red Hood and the gentle hands of Jason, Crime Alley was slowly becoming better. Everyday, Jason became more and more sure he was doing the right thing, maybe not morally, but the right thing that needed to be done.

"Boss..."

Jason glanced up from his data sheets that were analyzing the steady, if slow decrease, of crime throughout the Alley. Maybe someday, they could actually call it Park Row again...Hah! Jason was kidding, of course, he would never do that. That was for wealthy privileged white folk like the Gotham elite. Like Bruce.

He snorted, focusing back on the man that stood anxiously before him, his face slack with fear and beaded with sweat.

"What happened?" Jason growled out, Red Hood's modulator making his turning his voice into a deeper, more mechanical version of his own. They knew not to disturb him when he was doing paperwork, so it must have been something important. His comm had also been silenced, so whatever it was, was important enough that they had to come disturb him in person.

The man hesitated, swaying on his feet, face pale and his hands trembling slightly, seemingly frozen between indecision, unable to spit out the words on his tongue.

Jason slammed a hand down, breaking the tension, and the stalemate of the fubbling man before him. "Tell me, that's an order!" He barked.

The man snapped out of his haze, "It's the Joker..." He gasped out, "He's in crime Alley. He has a captive-it seems it may be one of the children-"

Jason was already rushing out the door.

"And the Bat? Where is he in all this?" He yelled back.

The man stubbled after him, "He seems to be missing, Boss."

Jason sneered. Batman missing? With another innocent child dragged into the mess that was the Joker's and Batman's never ending game? Not surprising.

"He'll come, he always comes when it's the Joker." Jason mocked. He pushed his way out of the building and made his way towards his bike. "Give me the location."

After the man shakily rattled off the address to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Crime Alley, just barely enough to be considered part of the Alley itself, the pieces began to fall into place. He turned back towards the man, "This child, do they happen to have blue eyes and black hair?"

The man froze, before nodding, if only a little uncertain, "I think so."

Jason sneered. So the Joker wanted to play a little game, didn't he? He would quickly find out that Jason was no longer willing to play those games, no longer willing to wait for vengeance. Red Hood did not need permission from any of the Bats to kill a rogue messing with his people. With children.

Red Hood gunned it down the street, clicking on his comm, a comm that connected him to all the men and women that worked for the Red Hood. "The Joker is in Crime Alley, soon the Bat and his cauldron will be as well. They do not have my permission to retrieve the Joker, nor do they have my permission to enter Crime Alley as a whole. Employ the tactics to delay and stall their invasion into Crime Alley. I'll let you know when it's over."

After a few calls of confirmation, Red Hood clicked off the public comm, going to a more private comm with the higher ups he had elected for situations like these.

"Tell me everything you know." He commanded.

Immediately someone began to raddle off information, their voice slightly tense, no doubt from the stress of the entire situation.

"Joker and his goons got here about 5 minutes ago, set up shop after they dragged in one of the street rats in there with them. Been holding them captive as a bargaining chip. We're in a stalemate, Boss. Been waiting for you."

"I see." Jason gritted his teeth. 5 minutes, 300 seconds too long. Yet not long enough to have planned this on such a large scale. No, the Joker had been planning this ever since his escape from Arkham. Ever since he no doubt heard the rumors of Batman and Red Hood's estrangement and no doubt thought there would be a good 'laugh' poking around at it.

Jason gritted his teeth.

"E.T.A. 7 minutes. I'll be there shortly." Jason hoped that the Joker found this laugh worth it because it would be the last one he would have.

7 minutes later, cut shorter with a few shortcuts and driving like a demon out of hell, Jason arrived to see his men subtly surrounding the warehouse, their faces etched with tension and wariness, stances tense. No one else was out, no doubt his men had cleared everyone else out of the area as was standard protocol.

There were no points of access except for the high windows that Joker no doubt anticipated someone crashing through, and the door that would no doubt be guarded to the teeth.

His comm crackled to life. "The big Bat has been spotted. He seems to be accompanied by Robin, Red Robin, the purple one, and-Fuck! Nightwing!" No doubt the Black Bat was nearby. She just hadn't been spotted. Not his men's fault, even trained vigilantes life himself didn't always manage to spot her in time.

Jason hummed, looked at the warehouse with the window, looked at the front entrance, and thought about the child that was running out of time. The child, whom Jason had spotted with his thermal vision, was curled up in a fetal position, too far away from the doors for that to be an optimal strategy for a quick retrieval. The window would be the better option of the two, it was closer. He made up his mind.

"Let Nightwing slip through."

The comm crackled-"Thank God...I really don't feel like having my ass handed to me by a pretty face, my self esteem is low enough as it is."

Red Hood grunted, but couldn't quite stop the corner of lips from twitching upwards.

A second voice jumped in, "Your comm is still on."

"Shit!"

The comm crackled again then went silent.

Jason crept towards the door, counting the seconds, a grenade in one hand, a gun in the other.

"Nightwing has slipped through! Repeat, Nightwing has slipped through!" Shots sounded over the comm, one of his men yelling, cursing out the 'purple one'. Another one he could faintly hear taunting the 'Robin with anger issues and a big knife' as he called him. All tactics that Red Hood had approved. Was it really petty if they worked?

He clicked his comm, "Everyone stays out, I'll handle this with the Blue bird."

A flash of blue-from his cover, Jason threw the grenade, his throw long but true, aimed at the steel doors and shot a single bullet, piercing the grenade right through the middle and causing an explosion to ripple through the air and smash through those same steel doors. Jason rushed forward, stomping over the mangled bodies of the men that had been guarding the door and firing a quick round of bullets towards those that had not died in the blast. No mercy for the men that worked for Joker. A quick death was mercy enough.

His guns fired off in succession, each bullet flying true, each bullet either maiming or killing, but never grazing. They fell to his feet, their blood rushing to form pools that Jason had to be careful not to slip on. Jason continued forward, never stopping or slowing, his bloody footprints the only evidence he had been there. And the dead bodies, of course.

He heard the Joker's cackles before he saw him, felt the usual rush of disgust at being forced to play in his games, a mere pawn to bring the maniac amusement and entertainment.

That would end today.

"No fair," Joker pouted, dragging the child from where she had laid slumped at his feet. Jason felt himself bristle at the sight of a discarded tire iron that had laid next to her. "You're an early little bird! You were supposed to arrive with Batman! Where is he? Hmmm?" The Joker leered, uncaring for the child that had begun to struggle in his grip, jerking back and forth as she fought her way back to consciousness.

Blue eyes-flashing green?, barely visible from underneath all the bruises, stared back at him in horror, small hands pushed at a green suit that held them in place, shoes squeaking as they scrambled to get away. Blood ran like a river down their face, both from a bloody nose and the gash on their forehead, two black eyes sported the look. Dirty and mangled, but still, the Crime Alley kid still carried herself with a hint of defiance. There was a familiar regal air underneath her unkept appearance.

Jason felt a sliver of pride that the kid had fought so well even when hurt and cowed. Beaten but never broken, those were Crime Alley kids for you. Pride was quickly overtaken by the familiar rage that Jason only ever felt in moments like these. No one fucked with kids, not if he had anything to do with it.

20 steps away.

"A pity," Red Hood snarled, "As Batman is a bit too caught up at the moment, you'll just have to settle for dear ole me." He mocked.

Jason stalked forward.

15 feet.

The Joker cackled, hooted and hollered, "Oh, but that's the greatest joke of them all, isn't it? The Bat might not care enough to show up for you, but he'll definitely show up for me! You see, dear old Batsy always shows up for the Joker!" The Joker wiped away a stray tear, "Hah! What a laugh!"

10 feet.

Above them, a pair of soles shifted, an athletic body prepared to pounce.

The Joker went back to sneering at Red Hood, "You always know exactly how to make me laugh! Hmm, like father, like son, no?"

5 feet.

He recognized the girl, Sarah was her name. He had only one conversation with her but it had been about her name. Even then, Jason had always felt something familiar with her and her blue eyes that stared back at his. Shouldn't they have been swirling green as well? They should be blue too?

'Names Sarah. Parents figured if they named me something pretty and simple, I'd have a pretty simple life-guess it didn't work out the way they wanted it to, huh?' She had run off after that, leaving Jason baffled at the sudden word vomit when the child had been quiet the whole time Jason had passed out water bottles. That had been a few days ago, Jason had yet to see her again, as Red Hood had kept him busy.

But even in all her silence, Jason had recognized she had felt the same familiarity that he had felt. Ellie?

4 feet.

The Joker snapped to attention, "Nuh uh uh!" He tutted, "No ending this game before dear ole' daddy Batsy arrives." He shifted, revealing his trump card. Red Hood stared silently at the clock, the timer attached to tnt, an exact replica to what had led to the death of the second Robin.

The comm crackled to life at that exact moment. "The Big Bat broke through! Repeat, Batman broke containment!"

Jason expected rage, he did not expect a sudden detachment from the entire situation. Suddenly-and if it weren't for the child-Jason would have been utterly uninterested in anything the Joker had planned.

"Thought we could all do with a trip down memory lane, stir up some old feelings and hash some things out." He smiled, but Jason saw no actual light in them, "Wouldn't do for a father and son to be so estranged from each other."

"No, No! It's much more fun when both father and son are in on the fun! The more the merrier, am I right?"

Jason sneered, stretching out his limbs, while in a showful manner, it wouldn't be good for him to be stiff.

Suddenly, the wild card of tonight spoke up, "More the merrier my ass!"

Above them, a faint sound of a grapple catching hold was heard.

Simultaneously, a lot of shit happened all at once.

Sarah sank her teeth into the hand that was holding her in place, eliciting a screeching yowl from the Joker, the vigilante that had been waiting for the right moment, finally crashed through the window, and the bullet that had not even left the barrel went wild as a batarang came crashing into it, sending the bullet away from between the Joker's eyes and into...

Because Bruce was Batman, and Batman would always choose to 'save' a rogue rather than save his 'son'.

Glass landed in shards all around him, the cackling of a madman could be heard and distinctly, he could hear the familiar soundless sound of Batman's footsteps as he once again rushed forward to protect the Joker from the consequences of his actions, somewhere, Nightwing flounced about taking out the goons Red Hood hadn't killed yet but Jason could no longer care about either one of them.

Sarah...Danielle?

Over the chaos of it all, the Joker made eye contact with him. his eyes gleaming with malice. "I told you Batsy would come! He always comes!"

"Now for the grand bit!"

With a cackle, the Joker prepared to launch the bomb into the air, but he paused, a giant grin spreading over his face, "What's this?"

Blood was pooling, the problem was, it wasn't the Joker's, and it wasn't Jason's either. Jason felt his head grow light, felt his heart begin to pound, felt a growing dread begin in his stomach.

He distantly felt himself falling to his knees, why else would the ground be so close?

No.

No. No. No. No. No! No! No! No!

Sarah-Dani-lay sprawled out, like a discarded doll, one arm twisted over her face that was turned to the side, away from Jason, the other arm trapped underneath her, blood pooling around her head.

She wasn't breathing.

Ellie?-Daughter?

No...

"Well, isn't this interesting! Turns out the little birdie that never got to fly caught a stray!" The Joker crooned then tutted, "Poor thing!" Then he slapped his knee and hollard, "That'll teach her not to bite!"

He wiped another mirthful tear from his face, "Oh...You Bats always manage to give me a laugh!"

Smoke must have filled Jason's lungs cause suddenly he couldn't breathe. The whole world moved in slow motion.

Then Jason was moving-fast but not fast enough-lurching forward, pulling the girl into his arms, cradling her still form. Her body was still warm.

Why did he believe that Batman would choose her?

He had not chosen him.

A faint scar crossing over his esophagus was answer enough, but Jason had always been a fool when it came to his heart. And his heart had always believed in second chances, hadn't it? He had had a second chance in life, why not in this?

The helmet-he needed the helmet off! Jason was choking-He couldn't breath-He-

Jason yanked his helmet off, letting it tumble to ground beside him, unregistering where that God awful screaming was coming from-or who was begging-and someone really needed to help them because they sounded so scared-and desperate-and Jason couldn't help Sarah Ellie and whoever was screaming at the same time. He could only focus on her, first her, then whoever was making that God awful noise. Jason had never known a human to ever make a sound like that before, but by God, Jason never wanted to hear it again.

"No! Please! Please! No. No! No! God no, don't do this to me! Please don't do this to me! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Jason wondered what they had done to be so apologetic. They must have done something really awful if they had to beg for forgiveness like that. Jason had heard people that were desperate before, but this was on a whole new level. God-someone should really help that person-Jason had to focus on Sarah!

(He could hear Nightwing attempting to soothe the guy but he must have been doing a terrible job because the guy only seemed to get louder and even more frantic-but Jason couldn't worry about that-he had to help Sarah-Ellie-his daughter?!)

Sarah who wasn't breathing...

He knew, oh how he knew, with a deep sinking bone despairing feeling, that he would not be getting this back either.

Help Sarah? Help Ellie? A flash of swirling green eyes-there had been more than one pair? Hadn't there?

But Sarah couldn't be helped anymore, could she? And whoever was screaming could wait, couldn't they?

Jason looked up, at the Joker who was now madly cackling, who was leaning over the both of them as he taunted Batman and Nightwing, waving the detonator all the while, forcing them back, "Any closer and we all go boom! And wouldn't that be a shame, because that would mean the show ends early-and we wouldn't want that!-We're barely just getting started!"

The Joker reached to brush away the grime from his purple and green suit, a fool with only tragedy in mind-no tall tales of fun or relief. None.

The Joker may be dressed as a fool, but it was Jason that would always be the fool. But what would happen when Jason didn't want to be the fool anymore?

Well, now the man was laughing, and wasn't that weird because there was nothing funny about any of this. They needed serious mental help. Laughter was not meant to sound that broken or hysterical, it was ranging on Joker level of insanity. Jason would recommend several shrinks to him after all of this, he'd follow up after to make sure the guy went, he did not need another rouge with a laughing gimmick on his hands.

The Joker must have heard it too, cause he snapped towards Jason, turning wide delighted eyes back at him, "See!" He pointed, hollering, "He gets the joke! It's funny!" He sprang forward, "I'm glad someone is finally appreciating my jokes."

Did Jason still count as someone?

I'm not a soldier.

Robin had never been made to be a soldier, even if the people around him had tried to turn him into one.

He glanced down at Sarah's limp body, pushing the bloody strands of hair from her pale face. Never again would he see those beautiful blue eyes of hers, married with suspicion but unable to hide the cheeky mischief hidden deep within.

Again, Batman's plan to prioritize life-even a madman's life-even at the expense of others had fallen through. Always at the expense of others.

(B had been Jason's back up plan, but look at how that had fallen through.)

It was nothing new.

Joker slapped his knee, ending down to peer at Jason, "Looks like your son has a better sense of humor than you, Batsy!"

The Joker had won. Again. He would always win this game, wouldn't he?

(Batman had to win everytime, a rogue? Only once. Robin dying was enough proof of that.)

Jason giggled, rough and jagged, "Go bang!"

"What?" Joker tilted his head to the side, a morbidly curious expression on his face, "And he might actually be crazier than me now?"

It didn't matter anymore. None of this mattered.

Even if Jason died a second time, his first death, the death of Robin, would be all that mattered.

"It doesn't matter."

None of this mattered.

The joker brightened, leaning in.

"Isn't that the biggest joke of it all? Not even you matter, not anymore!"

The Joker's face darkened, because while the Joker liked to claim nothing mattered as a way to get away with all the destruction he had wrought, he was still an egotistical bastard at the end of the day, "Of course nothing matters-"

At the very least making sure they were avenged, that they were not forgotten, or dismissed, that they were mourned properly. Mourned and remembered as the children of Crime Alley, the lost sons and daughters, hope extinguished-but never as a soldier. Never as a soldier.

"Then let us all go Bang!"

With a sneer, Jason raised his gun, pulling the trigger and one moment the Joker was sneering back at him, and the next his face no longer had the capacity to sneer, much less ever move again. With a hole in the middle of his eyes, the Joker fell, his body landing heavily to the side, blood pooling beneath him.

After all, his need to see the Joker dead had never been about the Joker, it had only ever been about whether or not Bruce had cared enough to avenge him.

Sarah had gotten the vengeance she deserved.

When Robin died, Red Hood came to life-and Red Hood was not a symbol of justice, he was a symbol of vengeance.

Jason closed his eyes, waiting for it to all end, for the bomb to take them all. To finally end all of Jason's torment. But nothing happened.

That perhaps, was the biggest joke of them all.

Life would continue whether or not the Joker lived. Because the Joker was right, in the grand scheme of things, lives like the Joker's did not matter, and their deaths? Even less.

But that man was sobbing now, and it was really grating on Jason's last nerve-because shouldn't they get the hint and shut the fuck up? Jason had a God damn headache and his bitch ass crying was not making it any easier.

He had to carry Sarah out of here.

"Is he dead yet?"

Jason snapped his head downward, seeing blue eyes squint at him in suspicion.

"What?" He croaked. Sarah?...Ellie, who was Ellie?

Daughter.

"I asked if that motherfucker was dead yet?" Sarah began to wiggle, then stopped, grimacing in pain, holding her side, then switching to clutch at her arm.

"You're alive..." Jason said numbly, head groggy. The world was starting to spin.

"Duh, every girl knows to play as dead as a fish in situations like this. Ain't the first time, won't be the last! You cry like a bitch ass motherfucker by the way."

Jason stared at her, taking in her still warm body, her breaths that were no longer being stilled, and the blood that was pouring from a gash in her arm-where the bullet must have grazed her-where the blood had come from.

Near him, something shifted, and Jason glanced up, only to see Batman, analyzing the splatter of the Joker's brain. Jason didn't have the time or energy to tell him to get the fuck out of Crime Alley. Someone moved closer to him, hovering over him, touching him, but Jason couldn't quite feel it. Nor hear what they were saying, not when he was focusing so much on Sarah.

"Nope," Sarah peered over at the Joker's corpse, "He dead dead. No faking that! Not with a hole that big in his face, gee-Nice shot!"

"Medic," Jason croaked out, shaking himself out of his revelry. "I need a medic!" As gently as he could, he clambered to his feet-someone helped him-probably why he did not collapse-but he didn't know who-couldn't find it in himself to care about that or anything but Sarah-but Sarah merely rolled her eyes in response.

"Oh look at me, first a damsel in distress, now a damned princess in a princess carry. I ain't a doll, I won't break if you jostle me! It's not like I died, I just got shot!"

Then she huffed, "If I was you, I'd be more worried about the tears and snot running down your face! No bueno! Not a good look. Actually, you'd be doing me a huge favor," she pointed at his face, "by cleaning that up."

Something shifted to walk next to him, and Sarah cast her gaze on whatever it was, Jason hadn't really identified-or identified it at all, really-it as a threat so it didn't matter, "What's with the guy in blue?" Then she glanced around, "None of you motherfuckers are allowed in Crime Alley. Get the fuck out. We don't need no bastards like you coming in and rolling in the dirt with us Alley folk, get out! Why you tryna piss me off? First the Joker bastard kidnaps me and now you lot, today can't get any worse." She grumbled, settling in Jason's arms, withdrawing into safety. Then she sprang up, and pointed, and Jason groggily followed it.

Vaguely, Jason could tell he was going into shock. Also, what was Batman still doing here?

"And you," She spat vehemently, "I only got shot cause you were tryna save the Joker! What!? Is my life not as precious as that sociopathic clown!? What you tryna say?! If I wasn't beaten black and blue, shot and needing a blood transfusion, I'd get up and beat some sense into your worthless piece of shit behind, you no good dirty-"

Jason reached up to slap a hand over her mouth. "Not worth it, he doesn't learn, no point in it. Save your energy for something actually important."

Sarah shot him a surprised glance, "Oh, so you mean he special?" Then she gave Batman a sideways glance, "You know what," She said, expression deadpan as she looked him up and down as she appraised him in all his Bat glory, "You might be right." She sneered, "He's not worth it."

"Let's just go home, Dad."

Daughter.

Jason stumbled, looking down at Sarah. Next to him, all around him actually, he heard gasps and murmurs. "Dad?" He whispered back at her.

"Figured you earned it after crying over me like that. We'll talk about it more when we get home, Jason." She winked at him. Though, Jason could see a touch of pink filling her pale cheeks, a shyness in her gaze. A recognition of who he was. From before-where everything had been green.

A flash of memory-green swirling eyes and impish laughter-a mischievous smile-and a deep riveting voice gently chiding both of them. Jason knew those eyes-those were Sarah's?-Dani's?-eyes.

Daughter.

Jason's brained stalled. "Okay," he whispered. "We can do that." He said dumbly. "We can definitely do that."

As long as Jason didn't have to let go of Sarah, he was fine with that. Jason would give the world to make it up to her for having her involved in this mess.

So with gentle hands, Jason cradled his daughter. With rough hands, he protected her from the world. With a trigger he had pulled, he had killed the man that had hurt her.

And in this life, he had found her again.

That was a good start to any in fatherhood, he supposed.

"I'm sorry-" for not getting here in time-for not remembering everything-for leaving you with no idea where I went-for not finding you in time.

Sarah patted his shoulder amicably-"Knew you would find me-you always find me. Let's just go home, yeah?" She coaxed, gently.

"Yeah, time to go home."

He turned towards the Bats that stood before him, surrounding him, his mind a mess, his heart messier.

(Here he stood surrounded by destruction, and yet he had never felt more free. The aftermath of his death surrounded him and Jason had screamed 'I live, I'm alive, I will live' and never before had he screamed so loudly. Jason was alive and the living waited for no one, not even for those that had died.)

"The Bat and his Cauldron are not welcome in Crime Alley." His voice was a mere rasp, but it was loud in the aftermath of what had happened. Next to him, Nightwing flinched.

"Jaybird, please-"

Jason plowed on, "You know why, your moralities are a danger to me and my people. I have sacrificed everything of who I am to maintain the safety of Crime Alley, and yet in a single day, I almost lost something I could never ever hope to replace-a daughter-my daughter because some of you prioritize morality over saving innocent lives." Pressed against him, he felt Sarah shift, looking downward, he pretended not to feel the sudden drops of wetness of his skin or the way her form was now slightly shaking as she clung to him. "I'm not willing to risk that again." He hugged Sarah Dani tighter against him, closing his eyes as he remembered her too still form. "I can't...I'm sorry. I've already lost too much already, I cannot lose her too." Not again.

Jason remembered two pairs of green swirling eyes and a dinner table where a butler stood at attention.

"Jason?"

"I need you out of Crime Alley. And I need it to stay like that."

Before him, the Bat-Family stood defeated, but it was Nightwing who still persisted. Never one to give up even in impossible odds.

"I'm sorry, Jason."

Jason paused to look at him, to look at his brother.

"You were right, Jason. About everything, about this too. I was so caught in the past that I overlooked the present. I overlooked my own brother-and now-now I put your daughter in danger with my own carelessness-I...I'm sorry, Jason. One of the worst mistakes I have ever made was leaving the plaque up, not taking down the memorial, but the one I most deeply regret was letting my brother live with the notion that I didn't love him. For that, I am truly sorry." Then he glanced at Sarah, gaze remorseful, "And I'm sorry, that I almost cost you to lose everything, again."

Say that you love me-that you want me, only me, not the 'me' that you remember.

"You are my brother, I-you must know that I love you, Jaybird."

Jason closed his eyes, too drained to cry another tear.

"Nightwing is not permitted in Crime Alley," and Dick shoulders slumped, head hanging low, finally defeated, "But Dick is always welcomed."

With a jerk, Dick whipped his head back towards Jason, a wide hopeful smile blooming on his face. Jason couldn't help the way a wet laugh made its way out of him at the sight.

With his own slightly choked laugh, Dick sprang forward and wrapped his arm around both Jason and Sarah, much to Sarah's displeasure.

It reminded him of bright exaggerated colors. It felt like the warmth of a black cloak, the smell of leather and the belief that no matter what happened he would be fine.

"Did everyone forget I need medical attention or did you think broken ribs could be solved with hugs and kisses? Get off me, you big fat lug! Does everyone cry like a baby in this family or something? Geez!"

Even so, Jason accepted his brother and his newly found daughter with gentle hands. Even as the ground beneath their feet began to soak in the Joker's blood, igniting the cries of all the dead that had finally been avenged.

-----

In the infinite realms, the King stirs, sensing thousands of his people's tragic deaths being avenged in a singular motion. Oddly enough, the action had not only been fueled with vengeance, but also fierce protection by a revenant, one of his own, for a reincarnation of one of his fraid-his daughter-Ellie-had been in danger. The revenant had protected her. A flash of green rage coiled around him-hadn't Clockwork told him that that universe would be safe for her to reincarnate into? A much needed respite? He had promised her safety.

He had already lost Jason-his core-mate, his lover, his friend, his Queen, he would not tolerate losing his daughter.

Beneath the Joker's corpse, the blood that had spilled from his final wound began to form something, spreading out to create a bubbling glowing green sigil. Only when the sigil was complete, did the green glow as brightly as the sun.

By then, the Bats and Birds had noticed too little, too late.

The King was coming.

And he was not happy.

Continuous of 'If I could love you, I would. (Soulfully, you know I would.)', 'Would you love me as I am, not as you remember me?' and 'When I left the past behind...I left you behind too'

Part 5 here Part 6 here

Part 7 here

[somewhereintheruins]

When I left the past behind...I left you behind too

Dead on main

Part 1 here Part 2 here

Jason was used to the bare minimum. He was used to having his needs dismissed, was used to having his pain dismissed, was used to being dismissed himself. Only his death was ever acknowledged.

His family had acknowledged his death, the devastation that it brought, but his pain? Jason himself? No. Was that not the reason why the memorial still stood tall even when he lived? Taller than Jason had ever stood in life? Why his death had more significance to the Bat-Family than Jason's return ever had? Jason's death had become more important, had more value, had more of an impact than his life had ever had. He was alive but it was his death that kept living on.

Jason knew that, but had refused to acknowledge it, in the hope that if he waited long enough, his family would have seen past what had happened, and finally see him. All of him. Scarred, broken, but healing. The dead didn't heal, they didn't move on (unless it was to the afterlife, something that had been stripped from Jason), didn't get the opportunity to rage or scream or plead. But Jason had, he had screamed, he had been his rage, and he had pleaded, and finally he was moving on, he was healing.

Healing was not a foreign notion to Jason, but usually the injury had not come so quietly, nor was the aftermath so...apathetic, resigned even. Usually, there was screaming, raging, hurling fists and sobbing-begging at times-but this time? With Alfred? It had only been a quiet acceptance. There had been no anger at the revelation, only a quiet defeat. An acknowledgment that all his previous efforts and struggles to be seen, to not be made a fool for hoping, to be loved as a son, were all in vain. There had been no anger, only a certainty that his death would long outlive even him. Even if Jason died a second time, his first death, the death of Robin, would be all that mattered.

After Nightwing had come to confront him and after Jason had said what had needed to be said, had smashed through those too high walls made of guilt and regret, Jason had never felt so...

Never before had Jason felt so...relieved. (Here he stood surrounded by destruction, and yet he had never felt more free. The aftermath of his death surrounded him and Jason had screamed 'I live, I'm alive, I will live' and never before had he screamed so loudly. Jason was alive and the living waited for no one, not even for those that had died.) Relieved that he didn't have to keep waiting. Relieved that he could finally move on. Jason didn't get the opportunity to move on in death, but he could in life. Relieved that he no longer had to be the fool waiting in vain, always waiting. No longer waiting. Only the dead had to wait. He could move on. Jason was not dead, he could move on.

Batman would not kill the Joker. He would forever mourn the Robin he was too late to save. Bruce could not love Jason as a son, he was still mourning the son he had lost. He too had idolized the past, (was stuck in it) he too loved a memory more than he did the Jason that now stood before him. But Jason was no longer willing to wait for Bruce to realize that. He was done. Jason was done waiting.

Screaming, yelling, begging, telling his family outright what he needed, telling them to stop mourning him, to stop idolizing the past-waiting-hadn't worked. So Jason had stopped.

Jason did what any living breathing person did and walked away from his grave. From all that reminded him of his death and demanded he stay as he was, forever frozen in time and left behind by the world of the living. (Yes, Jason had died, but he had clawed his way back to the world of the living and would be damned before anyone dragged him back.)

It had been the most freeing thing that Jason had ever done.

He was no longer being dragged into the past, was no longer the remnants of Robin, trapped in expectation of being someone else, of being someone who no longer existed. He was free to be Jason Peter Todd. Not Robin. Not Jason Peter Todd-Wayne. Not a soldier or an assassin or a Bat. Just Jason Peter Todd, the man who had become Red Hood. And Jason had learned that was more than enough, even if it would never be for Bruce or anyone else.

And Jason Peter Todd, the man who had become Red Hood, wasn't someone that needed approval for vengeance. He was just some poor street alley kid whose mother had died due to a drug overdose and whose father, who had fallen to a life a crime, had been nothing but abusive. A common story in Crime Alley. But hopefully, with Red Hood around, those common stories would become less common.

The Red Hood would be around to make sure no rogues took advantage of desperate people and roped them into their schemes, that the drugs that had taken his mother away from him would not be able to take another parent, and that the abusive scum that hit their wives and children had someone to answer to, had someone to put them in their place. Red Hood, a moniker for vengeance, would make sure that there would be consequences for messing with the people of Crime Alley.

And he had made this known.

Batman would not kill the Joker. But Red Hood would. (He was no longer waiting. Only the dead waited, Jason was not dead.) He would kill any rogue that stepped a single foot in Crime Alley. He would not ask questions, he would not wait for them to redeem themselves (After all, Jason was no longer waiting), he would not wait for them to kill anyone else or ruin anymore lives. He would kill them, point blank shoot them. This went for all rogues and their cronies, not just the Joker.

The Joker was not special, or different from the rest of the Arkham escapees. Not anymore. Jason had merely put him aside because of what he had represented-what him being alive had represented. After all, his need to see the Joker dead had never been about the Joker, it had only ever been about whether or not Bruce had cared enough to avenge him.

A faint scar crossing over his esophagus was answer enough, but Jason had always been a fool when it came to his heart. And his heart had always believed in second chances, hadn't it? He had had a second chance in life, why not in this?

But Jason was no longer waiting for vengeance. For someone Bruce to deem him worthy of vengeance. Never again would he wait. Never again would he wait for the people who didn't even care enough to take down that damn memorial now that he was alive or take down the damned soldier plaque when he had been dead. But then again, they weren't really mourning him, were they? And Robin had been a soldier, even if he had been dressed up in bright colors.

Jason was finally walking away (he had finally lost hope that they would see him), he had stopped waiting. There was nothing to wait for. Jason had been a fool to not have realized this before. His heart often made him a foolish man.

But still, he was foolish enough that he had felt a spark of hope flickering back to life when he his men had reported the sighting of Batman, Red Robin, and Robin on the outskirts of Crime Alley, reportedly waiting for him for the past 30 minutes. They had refused to relay any information to his men, claiming that they needed to talk to him personally. Perhaps, this time, it would be a matter of importance. It's hard to stop hoping, harder when you love them. A part of Jason would always love them, hope that they would see him. But that didn't mean Jason would wait. Jason was done waiting.

His feet landed with a crunch, a choice, since Red Hood could move silently if he wanted to, signaling his arrival.

"Batman." He greeted, tone monotone. Then, "Red Robin, Robin. What business brings you to my alley?"

Red Robin snorted, crossing his arms, "What? No 'Replacement'? Not even a lowly 'Demon Brat'?"

Robin sniffed, "Speak for yourself, peasant, I, for one, quite enjoy being addressed by my proper title."

Red Hood gave them both a cursory glance, not caring for their dispute, "I'm Red Hood, not Robin. You were Robin's replacement, not mine." Jason knew now that he could never be replaced, only a soldier could be replaced. Jason was not a soldier. He was not Robin, not anymore-not ever again.

Both boys stiffened, not on the surface, but Red Hood knew them enough, and was socially adept enough, to know that things had turned awkward. Batman's jaw had even tightened, almost imperceptibly, but Red Hood could care less, he simply repeated himself.

"What business brings you to my alley?" He didn't bother with pleasantries.

Coughing awkwardly, Red Robin stepped forth, "The Joker escaped from arkham a few days ago."

Of course...Of course it would be the Joker that drags the Bat out of his cave. Jason didn't know why he had even begun to hope otherwise. Always the Joker. Batman always chose the Joker. Jason didn't know why...Some things never changed. Bruce would always choose the Joker over Jason. For a second, Jason had hoped...

The first time Bruce comes to see him and it's not even about Jason, it's about the damn Joker.

The Joker may be dressed as a fool, but it was Jason that would always be the fool. But what would happen when Jason didn't want to be the fool anymore?

Jason was done waiting.

"Is that all?"

Red Robin faltered, "We just wanted to give you a heads up..."

"I watch the news." Jason turned to Batman, but the man stayed quiet, scrutinizing him. "If that is everything you wanted to say, I will be on my way. Next time, just leave a message with my men instead of wasting my time." He turned to grapple away.

But before he could, Batman finally spoke, "Will we have to worry about you going after the Joker?"

Mid grapple, Jason let his arm fall before slowly turning back around. Both Red Robin and Robin were tense, ready to spring into action despite what their relaxed forms would tell you, with Red Robin looking more than annoyed with Bruce's lack of diplomacy and Robin giving his father a look of disgust. Seems Jason wasn't the only one that was unappreciative of Bruce's blunt 'strategy'.

Jason waited for the usual anger, the green rage that usually clouded his vision whenever Batman started being a hypocrite, but none came forth. (Why would Jason care about the Joker when he had stopped waiting for Bruce to care about him?) Jason found that he could no longer scrounge up the energy to care about Batman's antiquated sense of morality. Not even a flash of disappointment surfaced, just a feeling of confirmation. Jason, truly, no longer had to wait anymore. Jason no longer cared to wait. And Jason was not dead, he did not have to wait.

"Just like any other rouge, the Joker will not have to worry about the Red Hood unless he steps foot in Crime Alley. I will not go out of my way to kill the Joker, so if you want to keep the Joker alive, keep him out of my Alley. The second he does is the second I put a bullet in between his eyes."

He stopped forward and both Robin and the previous Robin dropped into a fighting stance, wariness maring their features. "But let me make this clear, if the Joker somehow makes it into Crime Alley, that does not automatically give you permission to go chasing after him. Both you and the rogues you protect are not allowed in Crime Alley under any circumstances. Even in your civilian form, you are not welcomed."

Jason continued, tone dismissive and Jason truly felt apathetic (Was this what it felt like to no longer wait? It was the most free Jason had ever felt in a long time), "As far as I am concerned, you do not cancel each other out, you're just two sides of the same coin. You perpetuate the broken system and the rogues take advantage of it. You are not a symbol of justice merely morality that bends to the laws of man."

"Crime Alley has no use for Batman's inadequate sense of morality or his cauldron," Jason swung his gaze to Robin and Red Robin, "So stay out."

"You know the consequences if you do not."

Red Hood didn't wait for Batman's response, merely grappling away. (It'd probably be a grunt or something equally as unimportant or non-communicative, knowing him.)

Jason didn't know why he had even bothered to hope. Some things never changed. (Jason being a fool, or perhaps, his family turning him into a fool.)

Jason's past was one of those things that would not change, but thankfully, Jason himself was not set in stone. Jason knew he could change (Only the dead remained the same, and Jason was not dead. Wasn't that the whole reason why Jason no longer satisfied the Bats? Because he had changed too much for them?), and that he had-and was still changing. He was leaving the past behind and was finally finding peace in that notion, even if that meant he was leaving everyone else who was still stuck there still trying to save Robin, someone who didn't exist anymore and no longer needed saving.

Jason hoped, that someday, they'd be able to join him in the present, but until then, Jason had other things to get done. Crime Alley needed Red Hood, the moniker of vengeance, and Jason was no longer waiting for someone to understand that.

Jason, however, would wait for someone to love him. He would never stop waiting for that, because for some reason, Jason knew, at the very core of his being, that the man with green eyes was waiting for him, not in the past, but in the present, yearning and hoping as much as Jason was, to create a wonderful future together with him.

Jason just had to wait for him. Just not in the past (never in the past, never again), only in the present. Jason would wait for him while he took care of Crime Alley. For a man that could love Jason for who he was, could join him in the present, and wouldn't mind all of Jason's broken but slowly healing pieces.

Someone who wouldn't mind leaving the past behind in order to live in the present with Jason. Jason would wait for that. And that this time, he was sure, he would not be made a fool for waiting or hoping.

Continuous of 'If I could love you, I would (Soulfully, you know I would.)' and 'Would you love me as I am, not as you remember me?'

Part 4 here Part 5 here

Part 6 here Part 7 here

[somewhereintheruins]

Would you love me as I am, not as you remember me?

Dead on Main

Part 1 here

Jason's dreams were his only solace in this world. To dream about a world that was not his, where people accepted him as he was, not what they wanted him to be.

Not as Robin. Not as a soldier. Not as an assassin. Not as Jason Peter Todd-Wayne. After all, Jason Peter Todd-Wayne had died long ago with Robin. Never again would he rise. Just as Jason Peter Todd.

The man that had once been Robin, the man that was now Red hood. A man that fought and killed, had been killed and saved others from what he had so desperately wanted to be saved from. A man that was just as complex as everyone around him yet could not be understood solely because the people around him wanted him to be someone else; were looking for someone else in all the fragments that Jason had painstakingly put back together, piece by broken piece.

Yet still, all his efforts of self-discovery and self-healing were looked down upon and dismissed simply because they did not align with the black and white moralities of a man that never had to sacrifice morality in order to simply survive. Not like Jason had to, not like every single street alley kid or regular Joe that didn't have a billion dollars to their names.

What would you do to eat?

What would you do to feed your children that were slowly dying of starvation. What was morality in the face of life and death? In the face of children dying, would you condemn the thief or would you condemn the man that had thousands of apples but would not spare a single one out of greed for the need to profit?

What is morality compared to survival?

Nothing.

You cannot condemn the thief and laud the murderer. No, it does not matter if the business man hides behind the law and profit. A murderer has a gun and a politician has the law.

Bruce had an antiquated sense of morality.

It was Batman's inability to kill, his need to save rogues and place them into the revolving door that was Arkham, only for them to go on a murdering spree the day they inevitably escaped, that was Batman's gun. It was his antiquated sense of morality that protected the corrupted and condemned the victims, like the laws that protected the business men that poisoned the waters, ground and sky in the name of the economy and free enterprise.

Morality, the law for a morale man, the high ground of never taking a life, was Bruce's back up plan.

Bruce had always had a back up plan. (B had been Jason's back up plan, but look at how that had fallen through.) Always had a back-up plan, a reason not to take life, but unlike Jason, he had the privilege of escaping the consequences by taking off the suit and stepping into the life of a wealthy privileged man. He didn't get to experience the first-hand result of giving a madman another opportunity to finish what he had started. (Batman had to win everytime, a rogue? Only once. Robin dying was enough proof of that.) But Jason had, and still did, just like everyone in Gotham still did.

Uncontrolled men who continued to abuse, traffic, and sexually torment the people around them simply because they were still alive and simply because they knew there would be no permanent punishment.

Batman and his birds didn't kill; they knew that. Parole didn't stick; they would be back next week. The people they abused? Waiting for them to come back, eyes already dead because soon enough the living breathing person behind them would be too. Trafficked, sold off to the highest bidder or shot and dumped in an unknown bay, used and discarded because they weren't seen as people, only play things or a means to an end.

(Everyone he knew would have preferred the latter of the two options. But what options were those really?)

But Jason didn't want that for the people of crime alley. He didn't want them to be continuously at the mercy of a mad man, their only hope hedging on the luck that time didn't run out for them, that Red Hood wasn't too late to save them. Like B had been too late to save him.

Luckily, Jason didn't have an antiquated sense of morality that ruled over him, so the people of Crime Alley would never know what it was like to go through what Jason had to in order to learn that 'morality' was just an excuse not to get your hands dirty.

He didn't want them continually looking over their shoulder knowing that the man who had harmed them was still out there, free and continuing their reign of terror. He didn't want the people who were dead to go unavenged. He at least owes them that. Someone owed them that. Did Jason still count as someone?

If you were too late to save someone, the least you could do was avenge them. Permanently stop the possibility of the rogue hurting another person.

So Jason avenged the dead. He gave the living peace. He understood why it was so crucial for them to have it.

Both were things he had never gotten for himself.

It was why he had started killing at the beginning of his reign as Red Hood and it was why Jason had never truly stopped even when it had upset Batman. Because it was necessary. Jason didn't like killing anymore than anyone else, but he knew it was necessary.

And Jason was tired. Tired of pretending it wasn't. Tired in general, really.

Jason was tired of people expecting him to change to suit other people's pallets and tastes, tired of reforming himself to suit other people's needs. What about him? Didn't his own wants and needs matter too? Or was he just too angry for that to matter? For him to matter? Did anger absolve his pain?

With B it had been Robin, with Talia it had been a perfect assassin, just another type of mindless weapon, a soldier, never just a son. With Alfred it was to be a soldier, someone who gave support without question and never contradicted. Someone to support Batman and help his ward, Bruce. A conditional affection, Jason knew that now. Alfred had never been loyal to him. Had never truly cared. With Dick, it was being a good little brother, even when he hadn't been a good older brother to Jason when he had most needed one. (Didn't matter if he wanted to be a good older brother now. Didn't he knew he was too late? Just like Bruce had been?) With Tim it was being someone who had never fallen.

But Jason had fallen. And he had not gotten up.

He could no longer be what these people wanted him to be. He was not that perfect version, a vision of untouched naivety. Jason had changed, he had grown. Perhaps that is why they still mourned even as he stood across from them. What they wanted him to be was gone. The boy that they had loved had really died that day and had not come back, instead Jason had been the one that had come back. Someone that they actually did not want.

Jason supposed he had been in denial, as well. It was why he didn't immediately correct the incorrect notion that the boy they loved was still in him, somewhere deep down. They would just have to reach him-they could if they tried hard enough! Maybe Jason had wanted to believe that too. He stopped believing it after a while though.

He did suppose that is why he had tried to respect Batman's no kill rule. Why he bent to their whims on morality, gritted his teeth when they gave him looks of pity whenever the Joker was mentioned. Or when they treated him wearily like he was one wrong word or one too-rushed movement from having a raging meltdown.

Not that Jason could blame them.

But who wouldn't snap being surrounded by people who thought you were wrong, that you came back wrong, who thought that everything you did was wrong, who looked down at you and judged your methods, your morals, your 'lifestyle'. Anyone would break being surrounded by people who only ever wanted to change them. Who didn't want them, just the person could warp you into, just the person they remembered you to be. Jason wasn't Robin anymore but that was the problem, wasn't it.

Yes, that was the problem. They mourned 'what could have been', but Jason was still here, he still could be. Just not in the way they wanted him to be. He had grown, he had changed. Why were they so adamant in dragging him back to what could no longer serve him? Why couldn't they love him just as he was? Was he truly unworthy of love and acceptance just as he was? Why did he always have to change, be useful, why did he have to be willing to serve someone for someone to want him?

"Jason."

Jason didn't bother to turn around, knowing already, from the reports of his men, and recognizing the almost silent footsteps, that it was Nightwing that stood behind him.

He knew his men had received his orders that the Bat-Family was no longer welcome in Crime Alley. Only with his explicit permission were they allowed to operate in the alley, which they currently did not have, but his men had also received orders to not engage as only he stood a real chance against them. He didn't need his men to fight a losing battle.

Like the one he had lost. Indeed, Jason had lost his place in the Bat-Family. But it had always been a battle he was going to lose, he just hadn't known it then.

He turned around, "Nightwing, to what do I owe the displeasure?"

Now before him, the vigilante stood, uncertainty hiding underneath his cocky and cheerful mask he had made long ago, when he too, had once been nothing but his anger. (Why couldn't he understand that now it was Jason that needed to be angry?) He held out his hands in a display of peace. A beseeching smile on his face.

Jason merely raised an eyebrow before continuing his careful maintenance of his gear. Right now he was cleaning his set of guns. He didn't bother to put it down. No need to make an unwelcome guest feel welcomed.

"You're not wearing the bat symbol anymore?" His voice was already overly cautious, like he was talking to an easily startled animal.

"No need. I'm not a Bat." I'm not a soldier.

Jason was not a bat. He killed. He sought vengeance. He was the Red Hood. He was not Robin anymore. When Robin died, Red Hood came to life-and Red Hood was not a symbol of justice, he was a symbol of vengeance.

Something shifted in Nightwings demeanor and his shoulders slumped over, defeated.

"Jason…" He said softly, his voice the same tone he would use on frightened civilians or a lost and scared child. "I'm right here, talk to me."

"I'm right here too." I'm not dead, please stop mourning me. I right here. I'm still right here. I'm not dead. I'm right here. But his voice was monotone, like he was simply stating a fact.

"Jason…"

Jason spared him a glance, catching Nightwing's wounded expression.

Jason shook his head, setting down his weapon to give the vigilante his full attention. He crossed his arms, "What are you doing in my alley, Nightwing?"

Nightwing made a wounded sound, before he attempted to cover it up with a joke. "What? No insult? No 'Dickwing'? 'Dickface'? 'Dickbreath'? Nothing?"

Jason began to turn away, dismissing the vigilante from his sight and mind, turning his attention back to polishing the barrel of his gun, a sentence forming to dismiss the vigilante and make it known that he was not welcome in Crime Alley.

"Wait-!" Jason paused, glancing back to see Nightwing's frustrated appearance, one hand gripping the back of his neck, at a loss of what to say. He closed his eyes, breathing out before he raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"I just want to talk." He paused, "You've cut off all other means of communication."

And you'd think that if the ban of the Bat-Family wasn't enough of a hint that Red Hood no longer wanted to communicate with them, that would be. But the Bat-Family was nothing but stubborn. Too bad their stubbornness tended to be more destructive than it was helpful.

Jason leaned back, gesturing for him to continue.

"What Alfred did…I'm sorry, I knew how much you looked up to him."

"Don't be. Alfred was right. I was just a soldier. He didn't do anything but point out the obvious. Honestly, I should thank him for being the only one willing to be honest. It was an eye-opener, really."

Nightwing made an affronted sound, his eyes narrowing, "Jason, you are not a soldier-!"

Jason cut him off, "And yet I took orders like one, and yet I died like one. Just a pawn in someone else's game." He laughed, not caring for Nightwing's grimace or his pain at the mention of his death. It was his death, why should he tiptoe around the reality of what happened to him just because it made other people uncomfortable? He was the one that had died! And yet somehow he still took it better than everyone else in his god forsaken life.

"When I stopped taking orders like a good little soldier-when I stepped out of line-I was questioned, abandoned, left behind. Deemed not useful to keep around."

Nightwing flinched, but his gaze was steady, "That's not true, Jason. And you are not a soldier, Jason. You're my brother."

"And yet you didn't take the plaque down. Where were you when I needed you?"

Nightwing jerked as if Jason had struck him. His mouth opened but no words fell out.

"When I was Robin, you didn't want to have anything to deal with me, not even as a brother. But when I'm standing before you, no longer Robin, now you're thinking about Robin, now you're thinking about the little brother that needed you. But Robin isn't here anymore. The boy you're looking for died, and you're sorry he didn't come back."

Jason barked out a laugh, causing Nightwing to flinch. "Hell, you're not even mourning me anymore, you're just mourning an idolized version of me that probably never actually existed."

Jason laughed again, longer this time. He ignored the fact that it sounded too jagged, too unnatural, too strained to be something that should be coming from him.

Jason shook his head in disapproval as he took in Nightwing's expression, the guilt that lay there, that he couldn't hide. He blamed himself for not being there, just like Bruce blamed himself for not getting there in time. Jason was tired of the guilt, it never got him anything but pitying glances and unsaid words and walls too high to be climbed over.

"Don't feel guilty about not saving me from the Joker, I never blamed you for that. But I can't help thinking-" Jason's voice broke "-that when I actually needed you, you weren't there!-You're still nowhere to be found! I don't need you in the past! I need you here-now-right now!"

His voice began to rise, "But you're still stuck in the past-all of you are! Trying to save Robin when he doesn't need to be saved-He died! He's not coming back! Get over it!" He shouted, his words like thunderous cracks of lightning. Years of pent up frustration suddenly spilling forth. Jason was no longer willing to keep silent, no longer willing to avoid what had to be said.

Jason's chest began to heave. Something in him going silent, resigned. "But I'm still here...I'm still waiting (always waiting), but you've got your head so far up your ass that you can't figure that out can you?"

Jay couldn't take it anymore, "I'm not a soldier-I used to be but not anymore-not ever again-and I'm not dead! But God damn it, I might as well be! Because all you are still treating me like I am! With that God damn memorial you refuse to take down, that damn plaque, and-!

"-And...looking at me! Like I need to be fixed, like I'm some broken thing-!"

Nightwing had gone pale, his face twisted, his stance one of complete and utter defeat, his mask broken. A guilt ridden man.

Jason didn't care.

"This isn't about Alfred. This is about your own guilt that you can't get rid of. This is about refusing to let go of the past and trying to drag me back there with you. All of you just won't let it go and you won't talk about it, either. I feel like I'm suffocating."

"I might as well still be in that coffin, 6-feet underground, still suffocating-god I wish I had never come back!" Jason was ranting now, he knew that, but he just couldn't stop.

Dick made a choked sound, his eyes watering-and Jason might have felt bad if what he had said wasn't the absolute truth. "Don't say that, Jason!" His voice was desperate, pleading, as if Jason had taken a knife and had plunged straight into his heart, twisting it all the while. Maybe he had. Maybe Jason just didn't care anymore. Or maybe Jason just wanted someone else to feel the pain of being unwanted, of not being enough, of not being loved as he was. Why couldn't anyone love him? All of him? What was so wrong with Jason that made him so unlovable?

"Please! Don't ever say that! Jason, please!" Dick staggered towards him, the man now-not the vigilante, absolutely devastated at the words and revelations Jason had laid at his feet.

"Take that back! Please, take it back."

But Jason didn't. He didn't feel like it. In fact, he didn't feel much of anything anymore.

He continued on instead, his voice sounding distant and numb, Jason felt distant and numb, "I don't know why I came back. It's pretty clear to me that none of you want me back. I should have just stayed dead. It would have made it easier on everyone."

Jason's confession seemed to be the final blow and with the last word uttered, Dick crumbled to a heap in front of Jason, his eyes begging for Jason to stop, tears that were held back now flowing freely as he mouthed silent apologies, his voice having abandoned him.

Jason did nothing, not feeling anything. He wondered distantly if he should, but no regret or guilt sprang forward, nor did pleasure or satisfaction, in fact. Instead, the numb feeling that Jason had felt earlier just continued to spread. Jason felt nothing, not even the anger that had so consumed him for such a long time. He wondered why he had hidden behind his anger when this numbness wasn't so bad after all. Jason found that it was easier to just simply not care then it was to care at all. In fact, it was almost freeing.

Something had broken in Jason the moment he had uttered those words. Jason didn't know what or whether or not it was a bad or good thing, but he found he simply didn't care. Why bother anymore?

"I know that The Bat and his cauldron are listening in on this conversation", Jason said as he eyed the earpiece in Nightwing's ear. "Just so there are no misunderstandings I will now clearly state that the Bat and his cauldron-anyone associated with Batman-are no longer welcomed in Crime Alley." He frowned, "If you think there's some information or a case that needs my attention, leave it with one of my men, they will see that it gets to me."

He turned his attention back to Nightwing. "As soon as you can stand on your feet you may see yourself out of my alley." He turned his back on the vigilante, "I will only say this nicely once, next time I'll shoot and ask questions later. Now unless you have business with me-anything actually important to say, you may leave." Say that you love me-that you want me, only me, not the 'me' that you remember. With that he resumed cleaning.

The next time Jason turned around, Nightwing was gone, almost like he had never been there to begin with. Jason found that he couldn't quite bring himself to care. It was nothing new.

What Jason did care about was whether or not the man with those beautiful green eyes, the color he still dreamed about, would love him as the man he had become. Or would he too abandon him for happier memories? For a version of himself that no longer existed? Would he too prefer the boy he had once been over the man he now was?

Could the man learn to love him again? Or was Jason completely hopeless when it came to love?

Jason hoped he could. Because Jason found that those swirling green eyes were the only things he cared about anymore.

Jason didn't have anything left to care about anymore. Didn't have it in him to care anymore. Just the green-eyed man in his dreams was left. Jason really hoped that man could love him back. Because Jason was tired of loving people who didn't love him back.

Then again, Jason was tired in general.

Part 3 here Part 4 here

Part 5 here Part 6 here

Part 7 here

[somewhereintheruins]

If I could love you, I would. (Soulfully, you know I would.)

Dead on Main

Jason doesn't remember anything from before he was resurrected. Doesn't remember anything except his limbs growing weak and the air in his lungs burning-burning! Burning! Burning! And he can't breathe! He can't breathe? Why can't he breathe?!

And then soon after, his skin, his lungs, his eyes are burning and everything is green and everything burns. For a moment he thinks he is still trapped under the debris. For a moment he thinks that his dad-B got there in time to save him. But then the burning doesn't stop-and if B was here wouldn't he tell him everything would be alright? Wouldn't he feel his dad's B's strong arms around him, carrying him to safety, wrapping him in his cloak and warmth-and wouldn't Jason know everything was alright if his dad B was there with him? Wouldn't his dad B save him from this agony?

He remembers the agony of life returning forcefully into a being that had not asked it to return. He remembers the peace death had offered him being ripped from his soul and replaced by callousness, by cruelty-his peace taken from him by the indifference of the living that could not understand that death was kind and life was not-and replaced it by pure uncontrollable burning rage.

His rest had been disturbed-his peace scattered-he was undead with no place to rest-and the dead didn't take kindly to being disturbed. He had no answers to why-no satisfactory answers, anyways, and no peace. No calming whispers, no gentle coaxing, no familiar smell of leather or the touch of a cloak that kept him warm. Where was his dad B?

Just green, rage and pain.

And Talia.

Ready to mold him into a perfect soldier.

Jason could pretend it was the Lazarus waters that had caused his rage, could blame it on Talia's manipulation and schemes-but Jason wasn't one to lie. The Lazarus waters had nothing to do with Jason's rage. No. That was all Jason.

Jason had lost something when Talia had dumped him into those waters.

Something nagged at Jason. Jason had lost something-someone?

Maybe it was the nativity-the belief that his dad B would always be there to catch him if he fell. That his dad B would be able to save him before the last tick-by some miracle- his dad B had always managed it before-how come not this time? Had the times for Bruce to save him run out? Is that why B could not save him from this rage that Jason now felt all the time?

Was it truly too late?

Is that why Jason turned to the anger? Because it was easier to deal with the rage than it was to deal with the emptiness that lurked underneath it all? Why was it such a crime to cling onto the one thing that had never left Jason? That was the only thing left protecting him?

Madness and insanity paled in comparison to the raw ache in Jason's 'soul'. No matter what he did it would always be there, but Jason had anger to hide behind. He ignored the fact that it had once been a tall figure made of shadows that said nothing but screamed 'safe' and 'home' all the same.

Where was Jason's faith that everything would be alright? Gone, he had lost that too. Jason could no longer see the shadows that contained the figure notion. Jason had lost faith in the whole world. His dad B had been his world.

Jason had lost Robin too. (What kind of Robin would he make when he could no longer take a leap of faith? If he could no longer trust himself to break the fall instead of being broken in the fall? What Robin was too scared to fly? Too scared that his wings no longer had the capacity to catch him?)

Jason wanted to go home but he no longer had one. He had lost it before when he had come back. And he had lost something so profound to him that he knew that if he remembered it would tear him apart.

(If there was anything left to tear apart further, that was. Because wasn't Jason just a bunch of torn pieces thrown back into a box that didn't quite fit back together but had no other place left to go? Jason knew that no whole being felt the way he did. He was broken. Didn't take a genius to figure that out. Too broken for his dad B to save.)

But this was something more than losing his home, or his sanity, or his dad's notion that he could be saved B's approval. This was something that nagged at him, every time he saw the green swirls in his dreams, or saw mountain dew of all things-really? Soda was causing him flashbacks? That was a new low even for Jason.

But still, Jason knew that color. Not from the Lazarus pits, or crazy pyjama people. He knew that color.

He saw it in his dreams. Dreams that had to be more than dreams because otherwise Jason would truly have nothing left.

(Even Alfred had betrayed him. Hadn't he been the one to put up the 'Good soldier' memorial? Why not 'good son'? Had he truly been undeserving of being B's his father's son? How foolish had Jason felt learning about that? The one man he still trusted betraying him before Jason had even returned.)

Beautiful eyes the color of swirling green, surrounded by a world that defied the laws of physics that shared the color-as if they had adopted the color because they knew how beautiful it was and wanted to be beautiful too.

Yes, Jason knew that color.

He hated that color yet loved it all the same. Watched with bated breath as anything familiar came into frame. A longing too intense, so powerful, it had no trouble overpowering all of Jason's rage of being inadequate, of not being enough, of being forgotten, of not being avenged, of being not being chosen over the joker and turned it quiet. It was the closest thing Jason had to peace and yet it drove him to near madness when he tried to figure it out.

How come that color had given him everything but had also stripped everything that had made Jason Jason?

He knew. Somewhere deep down, where he could feel the Lazarus waters still rolling deep in his gut where his soul should be, that that color was what Jason had lost.

He had already lost Dick (he had barely tolerated him to begin with), Alfred, his dad B, the world, the ability to be robin when he had died and was replaced. That was nothing new. That was expected. The dead should never expect to keep their lives.

They should expect the living to move on without them.

But the Lazarus green? That faint hope it brought? The beating of his heart, that did little more then beat adrenaline into his system now, had started to beat with what it had been intended for whenever he saw the color-with a warmth that Jason had nearly forgotten-but never did in his dreams. He remembered in his dreams how it felt to be loved, to be enough, to be chosen. He could dream again. It reminded him of bright exaggerated colors. It felt like the warmth of a black cloak, the smell of leather and the belief that no matter what happened he would be fine.

Somehow, he knew, Jason had lost something again. The living lost their lives by dying, it wouldn't be incorrect to assume that the dead lost something when they returned.

Jason was pretty sure he had lost something fundamental to himself when he had come back.

Jason was pretty sure that he had lost his soul when he had come back.

He knew, oh how he knew, with a deep sinking bone despairing feeling, that he would not be getting this back either.

But he could dream about it.

----

Across the realms, a King frantically looks for his other half, a soul that compliments his own and was lost to him. As the years pass by, he grows more frantic, sensing his Queen's rising despair but never ever being able to reach out to comfort him. Only in dreams, does Danny feel like he can grace Jason's conscience.

It's not enough.

It's never enough.

Part 2 here Part 3 here Part 4 here

Part 5 here Part 6 here Part 7 here

[somewhereintheruins]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Royal Protection

Turns out having an eldritch being, otherwise known as the king of ghosts and the infinite realms, as your childhood best friend, comes with a lot of perks, including an all around fierce protection.

Tucker, being one such friend, and used to Amity Parks level of insanity, hadn't normally batted an eye when an all powerful being threw hands for him as soon as a threat made itself known. First, it was the casual ghost such as Skulker and Ember who were going through their usual tirade, then one day, it was an eldritch king that that had woken up suddenly (thanks for that wild ride, Vlad! Not!) and had beef with the once sleepy (but now wide awake) town that was Amity Park.

Second, but definitely not least, Dan and Dani, both who were now reformed and off on their own adventures now-but let's not forget that Phantom had to knock some sense into them before they realized that world domination and destruction (Dan) and seeking the approval of a creepy fruit loop (Dani) probably wasn't the best way to solve their issues.

Thankfully though, they did-and now that Vlad was in therapy, and no longer acting like a complete fruit loop, and Danny had been crowned king on his 20th birthday and had claimed Amity Park as his haunt, the Amity Park level threats like box ghost or lady lunch all but vanished. After all, no ghost wanted to earn the ire of a king by 'throwing down' in the equivalent of the king's living room that was Amity Park. That was rude. And ghosts were anything but rude.

Thus, Tucker felt completely secure in leaving Amity Park in order to pursue a degree and eventually land a job in one of this world's most prominent technically advanced companies that was Wayne enterprises.

Living in Gotham was a walk in the park compared to Amity Park, which had somehow always managed to beckon world ending events like tomorrow should be a question and a threat instead of a mere fact.

Was there a tomorrow? Maybe. (WhAt dO YoU MeAn MAybE??)

Would it somehow manage to top off yesterday's shenanigans? You bet your last dollar it would. (Dang, Tucker had been saving that for some Nasty Burger)

It sucks to suck. You should have stayed in bed.

So walking out of his apartment for some casual mugging time? Not a problem. The eldritch being looming over his shoulder like some forgotten memory staring the would-be mugger turned psychic patient, that? That was a problem. Now Tucker was batting an eye at his best friend's protectiveness.

Seeing a full grown man pee his pants in real time in front of him probably did more damage to his psychic than being mugged ever could. Both of them had left that interaction more scarred than they should have been.

Especially when the man had fallen to his knees in front of Tucker and had proceeded to hug his leg, begging for mercy, and promptly making Tucker's soul wither away in pure anguished disgust. He had never craved a shower more in his life than he did in that moment.

(Yes, Tucker had thrown those pants away the moment he had shunked them off. And burned them.)

He had then complained loudly and rightly to Danny that something like that should never happen again. Danny had been apologetic and had gotten him a new pair of pants but something like that could not be made up with by getting him a new pair of pants.

(It also didn't make up for Sam laughing at him for a complete full hour when he had complained to her and bringing it up every time she could.)

Turns out, being King had only boosted Danny's awareness of when his fraid was in danger, and the ability to immediately peer out from the abyss, from where his true form hid from mortal eyes, and make eye contact with any perceived threat. Turns out, a man peeing his pants was the least volatile thing to happen to a mortal making eye contact with an incomprehensible being.

They could also go insane if Danny stared at them for too long. One lecture from Jazz was all it took for Danny to start taking his new abilities seriously.

Still, it had only become habitual to see people with ill intent falling over themselves to get away from him or plead for mercy. Tucker preferred it when they ran away. He had actually gotten into the habit of carrying a spray bottle around with him at all times for the ones that like to crawl towards him while pleading for forgiveness. He found that spraying people with bone chilling cold water worked as more of a deterrent than anything else.

He made sure to send some fancy gadgets to Jazz for that suggestion. Something about security...

He did wonder how she knew that worked, but then again she did work in Arkham, so she out of everyone he knew-probably-knew best in how to deter less-than-sane people away from you.

Who would've thought though, that a spray bottle worked just as well for cats as it did for the criminally insane?

[trans-ralsei]

[trans-ralsei]

[caughtthedarkness93]

I love my job, but reblogging employment jelly for someone else I love.