come as a lover, come as an executioner // j. todd
summary: you are a ghost as i am a ghost, but i am banging cabinets and tv static and all you’ve ever been is silent // in which Bruce's spoiled daughter is loved beyond measure and jason is unsure where he fits in a world that she isn't allowed to know exists. But he's has never been good at walking away from things that could break him.
index
xiv. the center of the self is grief i thought i could not overcome
Bruce’s hands shake as he tries to clean the glass from your feet. Your sobs have quieted down, shaky hiccups that rock your body left in their place.
“Rest.” His voice is firm despite the trembling way he bandages your feet, “Keep weight off your feet for a few days. You need to heal.”
It doesn’t occur to you to ask why his movements were so pristine, like he’d cleaned many cuts and bruises before. You don’t ask why - because you already know.
You only nod, eyes hollow as you watch your father methodically tend to your wounds. The bandages are stained red, and your foot throbs in time with your heart, but none of it hurts as much as the pounding in your head.
“Dad?” Your throat hurts when you speak. He looks up, worry clouding his features.
“Did you get hurt somewhere else?”
“Am I dreaming?” Your eyes search his, looking for an answer although you’re not sure which one you’re really looking for. “He was… I thought he-”
Your voice cracks again, bottom lip wobbling. “You told me he was in an accident.”
Bruce watches as your eyes search his for answers he wouldn’t give you, couldn’t give you. The weight of your question presses down on him, the one he hoped you wouldn’t ask. He didn’t have a proper answer yet.
Jason. The name stings like an open wound, like the many cuts that stained the bottom of your foot. His hand moves instinctively, smoothing your hair the way he always does. His fingers are light as they push back the stray strands that cling to your damp forehead, resting the palm of his hand on the top of your head. Gentle, deliberate motions, as though to try and calm the ache inside your heart.
“He was.” Bruce’s voice is controlled, but you can hear the strain underneath it - years of secrets, burdens carried in silence. He was your father, after all. You understood more than he said.
“It was bad. I thought… he was gone.” His eyes darken, flickering to the door as if expecting more ghosts to return. You close your eyes, leaning into the quiet strength of his hand, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a shield.
“Did you know he was back?” You take a deep breath to try and calm the shakiness of your voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Bruce’s jaw tightens, but his voice remains calm, measured. “I didn’t tell you because you didn’t need to know. Some things aren’t meant for you to carry.”
His fingers pause for a moment as he looks down, then back to you, steady and unwavering. “Jason’s situation was complicated. And dangerous.”
He shifts, smoothing a stray strand behind your ear with the same quiet care he always shows, but never voices aloud. His fingers tighten just slightly—a brief, almost instinctive squeeze—before he speaks again, voice low and steady. “I thought it was best to protect you from it—for now.”
You nod slowly, swallowing the knot in your throat. The ache doesn’t fade, but you understand. For now, some things have to stay hidden. “I still-” you run your tongue over your dry lips, “I wish you would’ve told me.”
“I know.”
Bruce’s hand lingers for a moment longer before he finally pulls away. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”
You fall asleep to the smell of Bruce’s cologne enveloping around you warmly, the steady movement of his hand on your back never ending.
x.
You’re here again, standing in the doorway.
It makes Jason almost laugh. Almost. You look the way you did when you first met him - scared, tentative, uncertain. The only difference is that you’re taller now.
“I can see you.”
You startle at his voice. He raises an eyebrow, blowing out a puff of air. “I thought you’d get better at hiding while I was away.”
You step into the room, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots through your leg with every slow and awkward step you take on your injured feet. You’re contemplating getting on your hands and knees to make the pain slightly less bearable.
He notices, of course he notices. How could he not when it came to you? His eyes glance down to your bandaged feet, before looking back at your wincing face.
“You look like a dumb penguin.” He mutters, nodding towards your feet. “Let me guess - your daddy patched you up?”
“Of course.” You stumble slightly, letting out a small yelp when the pain intensifies for a moment. “You know, your comeback wasn’t exactly graceful either.” The couch where Jason’s leaning against has never felt so far away.
Jason snorts, pushing off the couch and stepping closer, rough and grounded. “No one’s graceful after what I went through. But here,” he says, sliding an arm around your waist before you can fall, “I’m better at catching than walking.”
His grip is firm, protective—not quite brotherly anymore, but not yet something else. You don’t pull away.
“Thanks,” you say, voice low, unsure but sincere.
Jason rolls his eyes, a hint of a smirk tugging his lips. “Keep your feet up. Don’t give your dad another reason to be mad at me, alright?”
“Other than the whole ‘resurrection’ thing? Which, you know, I’m also kind of upset about.” You sit on the couch, allowing Jason to push you back and put your legs up on the cushions.
You feel his fingers stiffen on your calves.
“Upset I came back?” His voice is hoarse, layered with emotions he’s not ready to name. He doesn’t move to sit on the couch next to you, keeping his feet rooted on the burgundy carpet.
“What? No!” You scramble to your knees, lurching forward as baby pink manicured hands struggle to grab hold of Jason’s leather jacket. The pain throbs, sharp, in time with your frantic heart. “No! No, no. no. Jason, I love you, I always, always wanted to see you again, don’t you dare think I would ever not want you back.”
You’re panting, the cuts on your feet have re-opened staining your white bandages, but you don’t seem to notice, clutching Jason’s collar. “Jason, I missed you so much. More than you could know.”
Slowly, hesitantly, you pull him closer. The space between you shrinks until your noses nearly touch.
His breath catches - quiet, uneven. You still eat those strawberry candies. He can almost taste the faint sweetness lingering on your lips, and the subtle traces of your rose perfume that you always spray.
His hands twitch near your collar, like he wants to touch you, but he doesn’t.
“You believe me, right Jay?” You don’t look away, “Please?”
He swallows hard, voice low. “Yeah. I believe you.”
Without breaking eye contact, he brushes his thumb along the underside of your jaw, before pulling back as though he’s been burned. Jason’s eyes glance down at your lips for just a second too long before he clears his throat, setting you back down comfortably on the couch.
“You can’t take it back, by the way. So don’t regret what you just said,” he grunts, though there’s a hint of a smile in his voice. Then, with a slight roll of his eyes, he adds, “And stop looking at me like I’m a ghost. I’m right here.”
He takes a step back, just enough to break the closeness. You exhale shakily, falling back into the pillows, this time with Jason at your feet carefully inspecting your bandages.
For a moment, everything feels still — the pain, the secrets, the distance — fading into the background. Just you and him, here again.
And maybe that was enough.
a/n: guys i watched the demon slayer movie this weekend !!! been waiting my whole life for akaza’s backstory to be animated!!! but cant believe they didnt show my king giyuu shirtless.... ufotable give the people (me) what they want.....
as always, thank you for reading, reblogging and hearting <3
Summary: There are far too many ways for the meet the family date to go wrong, especially when there are lost guns and misunderstandings involved.
Word Count: 1136
You had desperately wanted to make a good impression. You'd never really made it to the 'meet the family' phase of the relationship before and you didn't want to mess this up. It was intimidating enough sitting in the expansive drawing room with all eyes on you. The idea that just by opening your mouth you'd probably end up putting your foot in there was daunting.
Dinner had seemed to go well enough. None of the potential fights Jason had warned you about had actually happened, which you couldn't tell if that was a good sign or not. If they had fully welcomed you into the family, they would let their guard down and let stupid fights break out, but you tried to remind yourself that this was only a first meeting and that evenuality would come along before you knew it.
You didn't have time to over think it before your phone started ringing, and knowing that work didn't call unless it was important, you excused yourself from the room to answer. Jason studied your face as you excused yourself, trying to gauge if this was going to be a 'we get to leave' kind of work call.
"What do you mean you lost the gun?" You questioned as you rounded the corner out of the doorway.
"And you're sure someone didn't just leave it on a shelf?" Your voice carried no matter how much you tried to hush.
Jason could sense Bruce's eyes narrowing in your direction. It didn't take much for him to know what the man was thinking. Jason had already heard enough of it with his own track record.
"You're just going to bring someone here who apparently has such a blasé attitude about deadly weapons that they appear to be routinely left around for anyone to find and discharge," Bruce lectured. "It's bad enough that you disregard my feelings on the matter, but it is another thing entirely to bring strangers here who obviously do the same thing."
It seemed the writing was on the wall, and judgements already made. He was disappointed, but not surprised. The night had gone far too well, and it was only fitting in his mind that Bruce would take something good in his life and twist it into something terrible.
"And you wonder why I've been in this relationship for well over two years, and this is only the first time I've brought Y/N here. So definitely not just a stranger," Jason countered. He could feel the anger rising, and as much as he was trying to keep things relatively sane in the manor for your visit, he couldn't help as his voice kept growing. "You just love to take things out of context and villainize them, especially if it has anything to do with me and anything I love. I mean, c'mon Bruce, you really live to the expectation on this, I just can't tell if it's living up to it or down to it."
Jason's bellowing had you abruptly hanging up the phone running back into the drawing room. You'd only seen him this angry a couple of times, but this time was different, you could see the pain it was stemming from standing right in front of him. There was always a distance to it, something he only had to prove to and remind himself, but this time was different. This time the manifestation of his personal shortcomings stood chest to chest to him in icy judgement.
"I think there may have been a misunderstanding," you hurried to begin to explain. Your voice grew progressively more stern, more protective. "I manage a store, and sometimes I or some of my associates accidentally leave our scanner gun on a shelf while changing stock around or checking inventory. I make sure the entire store takes safety very seriously."
Jason knew what was going to happen next if he didn't intervene. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy he supposed. He had warned you of the high probability of a fight breaking out during your visit, but he had been sure it would have been between his brothers, not you going toe to toe with Bruce. Without interrupting you, he started guiding you to the door. His hands on your shoulders only served to embolden you.
"You should know part of the reason I wanted to come here and meet you tonight was to thank you for the generous Wayne Foundation scholarship I was awarded for college. I only got through two years before my mom got sick, and because it was just the two of us, I left school and started working in a store, the one I manage now, to help keep everything going. But yes, thank you for the opportunity, however ultimately unfulfilled it may be." You couldn't veil the sarcasm in your voice anymore. If you were to be judged, you were going to play into it. You weren't necessarily proud that you were willing to stoop that low, but here you were taking satisfaction in the way Bruce's face fell slack as you got the last word in.
It was quiet as the car passed through the long driveway from the manor back to the main road. You both needed to cool off and put some distance between yourselves and the house before breaking the silence. You were more than a little surprised to look over to the driver's seat and see that Jason wasn't brooding.
"He's probably still standing there dumbfounded," he speculated in awe. "Nobody ever has the nerve to stand up to him like that."
"You were holding your own when I walked back in," you countered.
"Okay, no one who hasn't had to endure living with him has ever had the nerve to stand up to him like that," he corrected himself. "Once he's over the shock, he's going to respect the hell out of you. You might even end up with a job offer."
You didn't hide the small smile as you turned to watch the passing streetlights. It had been a long time since you had impressed someone like that, or at least a long time since you felt that you impressed someone, Jason is the first to tell you how you impress him every day. You glanced back to him and rebutted, "I actually like my job. There's no way I'm leaving just because I made a rich man feel like an ass."
"I know all of that, and that's what'll make you turning it down so much better," he mused.
You didn't miss how he chuckled and smiled to himself at the thought. There was a complicated relationship there you only hoped to one day understand. In the meantime, you had no doubt you and Jason could be enough for each other.
✧ Unfortunately for you, you had overslept at the Wayne Manor when the mayor of Gotham announced a city-wide lockdown. You’lre officially stuck in the Manor for months.
“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’ll be paid during your stay here.”
“Mister Wayne, money’s not the issue here. It’s you and your kids.”
✧ Of course, when did vigilantes ever follow the rules?
✧ Now more than ever, everyone was sneaking out into the night to fight bad guys who are taking advantage of the dead streets and stockpiled houses. Every time they come home you make them line up and water them down with a high-pressure hose.
“Is this!” “Really!” “Necessary!”
“Dick, the more you open your mouth, the worst it’s gonna get.”
✧ You spend most of your mornings vigorously wiping down their costumes. This is the most dangerous job you’ve had so far because the gloves would sometimes eject sharp talons or the chest symbol will electrocute you.
✧ It’s also the most bizarre because you keep finding random things in their utility belts. Jason has hundreds of candy wrappers tucked away in each bag. Lemon flavored.
✧ Tim has receipts for coffee at different convenient stores. Some receipts have two cups or there are 5 receipts just from one night.
✧ Dick has different kinds of pieces of paper and tissues with numbers and names written on them. He chuckles that he forgot about them and just heaves them into the trash.
✧ Damian’s pockets are the cleanest. So clean that you find him always replenishing his stock. You stare at him and wonder if you wish he was actually using them all every night or stocking them up somewhere to be used on his brothers later.
✧ Cassandra’s... you stare at the picture you pull out from the smallest pouch. It’s a picture of everyone in the family, wrinkled and creased, folded several times over. It’s from the game night you had played months ago and Tim set up cameras to make sure no one cheated. You remind yourself to ask for a copy later.
✧ Bruce never lets you touch his suit. You argue that Alfred taught you how to clean it. No scent. But he doesn’t relent. So you give him the supplies and let him do it himself.
✧ But it’s Alfred who does it and you complain that you offered. That you know how. That you’re careful. It’s not like you’ve been injured this morning. Alfred smiles and asks for your assistance to start making breakfast instead.
✧ For the first time in a long time, it’s always a full house at meal times. It makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy seeing all of the empty chairs filled in and laughter hovering over the meal.
✧ Of course this also meant there’s a lot more shouting and fighting and food being flung over your heads. Or in your face, especially when Jason keeps using you as a shield against Tim’s asaults.
“God if you exist, please let this be over soon.”
✧ Things started to look serious when one of the thugs coughed in Tim’s face. Dick quickly offered an assist and wiped his face down, screaming for Tim to close his eyes and not breathe. While Bruce and Jason dropped the goon at the hospital for a test.
✧ You were all relieved to hear that the thug tested negative. But this struck a nerve in you and you put your foot down, along with Alfred and Cass’s support. No one was allowed outside anymore. Gotham be damned.
✧ You lock up everyone’s suits and sealed every exit you can think of. For good measure, Barbara talked you through bugging the boys and Bruce so you can see if they’re still within the compound.
✧ Tim was more than happy to comply. He doesn’t want another scare like that and he could use the time to catch up on some paperwork for his classes. He pines away in the study, grading papers.
✧ Dick whines a lot. No matter which room you’re in, you can hear his voice fake-crying about Bludhaven, the citizens, and the fresh air. You hear muffled sounds every now and then which means Jason has had enough and thrown a book at him. In the end, he joins Tim in the study to do some detective work.
✧ Jason’s always in there too. Calmly reading a book. It’s so strange to see. You always give him tea and some snacks and he chats with you about which part he’s on before going back to reading. You would scheme with Alfred to buy more books in the same genres or from the same authors because at this rate Jason’s going to run out books before the quarantine is over. And you don’t want to find out how cabin fever will look on him.
✧ Cass stays in the training room. Music blasting against the walls. She dances the days away. You would go in every other hour to make sure she’s hydrated and taking breaks. You also stay a while to watch because it’s so hypnotizing. Her moves are deadly and graceful.
✧ Damian spends half of his days locked in his room. Then when he gets sick of being alone, he follows you around the manor while you tend to his siblings and do chores around the place. He waits patiently, but not quietly, until you’re done. Then it’s time.
✧ The two of you would always make a fort in the living room and have a makeshift projector that displays the stars above you. You would lay there and compare stories of your childhood. Despite the gore and horror, you’re always amazed at how much he has done and survived. And he found yours odd.
✧ After spending all day in the cave monitoring and deploying his new bat drones (you snorted at the name) to fight crime in his stead, Bruce would join you in the fort. He would always say the password, making you and Damian snicker. He’d raise his eyebrows at the two of you before plopping down next to Damian and stargaze at your fake stars.
✧ An hour before dinner, the fort would be full and everyone is fighting for the chance to tell stories from their past, their childhood, and hints of secret plans lined up when the quarantine is over.
✧ Alfred promptly gets up to start making dinner and you leave to help him. You brace yourself before you call them into the dining room, for the worst part of the evening. “Are you ready for war, Y/N?”
“Never. Can’t we just eat in the fort? Everyone seems to be more calm when they’re lying on the floor and not looking at each other.”
What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Part One
Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Six.Five Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven
The drive was silent. From the backseat, you saw Alfred reach for the radio several times, but stopped himself to focus on the road. His fingers would clench the steering wheel for a minute before relaxing. Oddly, you found yourself copying him, tightening your fingers around your wrist and letting go once he relaxed.
Damian, eighteen with the dark handsome Wayne looks, shifted in the front passenger seat. His elbow moving to lay on the arm rest. He seemed impatient as his eyes glanced out the window. You didn’t understand why he was impatient. If it were up to you, this drive would go on forever. You would never arrive at your destination, therefore what happened would have never happened.
Alfred slowly parked the car outside the cemetery gates. You closed your eyes. Your hands moved off your lap to grip the edge of the leather seats. If you held on tight enough, maybe time would stop. Maybe you wouldn’t have to go. If you don’t go, it didn’t happen.
A long sigh escaped from Alfred, but you kept your eyes closed. “Well, here we are,” Alfred said softly. You heard him turn off the car, but he made no move to leave. Silence filled the car.
“TT, let’s get this over with,” Damian growled. He threw open his door and slammed it shut behind him with unnecessary force. You flinched at the noise. Suddenly, you were in the dark warehouse with blood on your hands.
“Mx. (Y/N).” A warm gentle hand touched yours. You felt your heart pounding a million miles a minute. “Take as long as you need.” You focused on Alfred, who had turned in his seat to look at you with a small smile. He squeezed your hand. “If you are not up to this, it’s alright. You can stay in the car.”
“No, no, I’m good,” you choked. You could still smell smoke, rotting fish, and the hint of iron. Glancing down at yourself, you were surprised to find your Robin uniform instead of your black dress clothes. You shook your head and your black dress clothes were back.
Alfred frowned, but turned away to get out of the car. Your nails dug into the leather seat as you prevented yourself from flinching when his car door shut.
A little whimper escaped your lips. Your hands started to shake, but you dug your nails further into the leather to keep them still. You turned to look out the window. Other people, dressed in black, had arrived. You distracted yourself by recognizing people. There was Superman and Lois. Jon was tagging along behind them before going over to greet Damian.
Tim walked by with Steph. He looked horrible while Steph kept her composure. Kate and Cass joined them. You recognized several League members, Titans, Teen Titans, and Young Justice members arriving. A rock formed in your throat. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against your knees, hiding from the people outside. You heard more car doors slam and all you could think of was the blood and a gruesome, wet crack sound.
One breath after the other. Don’t panic. You froze when you heard a familiar voice talking outside of the car. “Where’s (Y/N)?” Dick asked. A cold swell of rage and hate filled you. You couldn’t face him now. Not here.
You heard someone answer him as you slid across the backseat to the opposite side of the car. Silently, you opened the opposite door and slipped out of the car. You pressed the door shut behind you. With everyone heading into the cemetery, you crept back through the rows of parked cars and into a small woods. You wandered into it until you couldn’t see the cars.
There was a fallen tree trunk covered with green moss. You sat on it, not caring about dirtying your dress clothes. It was quiet. Your thoughts slowed as you played your little game of denial again. If you sat here forever, then it didn’t happen. If you sit here, then nothing will happen in the cemetery. The casket will never go into the ground and it will have never happened. Those people wouldn’t be there, and you could just sit here. It would be a heroic thing. You give your forever to prevent the worse from happening. Batman wouldn’t be dead, Bruce Wayne wouldn’t be dead, your father wouldn’t be dead. If you sat here, then his body will never go into the ground and he’ll still be here.
However, a tiny whine escaped your lips as you felt a wetness on your cheeks. You reached up only to feel tears. Everything was wrong. You leaned forward and sobbed.
***
You got back to the car before the service finished. To avoid everyone, you laid down on the seat to hide and pretend to be asleep. Eventually, you dozed off.
Time passed. You heard your door open, but you were trapped in the space between fully awake and deep sleep. Someone ran their fingers through your hair. It felt nice and you imagined it was your father, back from the dead.
“You’ll be at the will reading tomorrow, Grayson?” Damian asked softly. You thought it was strange he was attempting to be quiet.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” The sound of Dick’s voice made you want to get up and scream at him, but you couldn’t move. You realized the fingers stroking your hair were probably Dick’s and you wanted to cry all over again. “Actually, I’ll be at the manor tonight after the reception on the watchtower.”
“TT, Father would have hated the idea of a reception there.” Damian shifted, shuffling his feet. “Will you patrol with me tonight? I plan to try out the cowl for the first time. We can’t let anyone know Batman is gone.” You wanted to wake up, blow up, but you were finding it difficult to have the energy even with the emotions bubbled inside of you.
Dick hummed. “Yeah, but you know I’m retired from that part of my life, Damian. It will only be one night. Any more and I’ll find I can’t stop.”
“You make it sound like a drug, Grayson,” Damian huffed. Dick’s hand paused, mid-stroke on your head. The weight of it heavy on your temple.
“It almost is,” Dick whispered. His hand started stroking you again and their conversation faded away into nothingness.
***
You were in your Robin uniform, taking down Bane’s hired goons. The smell of smoke and rotting fish filled your lungs. You flipped through the air, kicking one of the men into another one before dodging a punch. It was natural, normal.
Batman was fighting Bane above you on a metal catwalk. You could see him out of the corner of your eye. He had this under control.
One of the goons you were fighting pulled a gun. You somersaulted to dodge the bullet and kicked the gun out of his hand. Suddenly, you heard something from the catwalk. You turned to see Bane flip Batman. The gruesome, wet crack filled the air as Batman’s head slammed against the metal railing. Bane picked up his limp body and tossed him to the floor.
You shook off the horror, running over. His body banged against the ground like dead weight.
“Batman,” you gasped, quickly checking his pulse. There wasn’t one. “Dad.” You heard a voice over the comlink, but you couldn’t process it. “Daddy.” You shook him, trying to wake him up. Bane laughed above you. You slowly looked up at him and all you saw was red.
The next thing you knew you were standing there with a bloody knife in your hands. Blood was everywhere. The smell of smoke and rotting fish mixed with tinny iron smell. Bane laid nearby, unmoving along with the rest of his hired goons. You dropped the knife and collapsed on top of Batman’s, your father’s, body. The last thing you remembered was how cold he was.
***
“(Y/N), are you listening to me?” Lucius Fox asked from behind your father’s desk. You almost jumped out of the cozy armchair, startled out of your memory. The entire family was in your father’s study, and you couldn’t remember how you got here. Everyone was looking at you with concern. You studied each of them, although you skipped over Dick when you saw he was sitting in the chair next to you. Too close.
“Yes,” you said finally once you made eye contact with Lucius.
Lucius frowned. “Did you read the letter I gave you? The one from your father? It’s written in the will that those must be read first.”
You blinked. “Yes,” you said quickly, wanting the attention off you. However, you did not read the letter. In fact, you threw it away. You knew it would say it was all your fault. Lucius nodded, going back to the will. Everyone else looked away from you. Dick’s hand slid over to lay on top of yours. You flinched away from him, giving him a glare. He frowned at you.
“So we’ll move on then,” Lucius said, clearing his throat. “There are trust funds set up for each of you with equal amounts of money and some stocks in Wayne Enterprises. However, Tim has been left more, simply because he has taken a more active role in the business itself…” He kept talking, but you stopped listening. You tried to remember how you got here. Did you wake up this morning? You must have had since you were dressed and down here. Lucius talked to you like you were awake. A headache blossomed in your temple.
You reached up to rub your temple. That got the attention of Dick, who glanced back over at you. The rage grew in your gut, but you pushed it aside. You couldn’t blow up at him now. If you can just get through this, you could hide in your room until he disappeared from your life again.
“Then we come to the guardianship of the minor, (Y/N) Wayne.” You looked up in surprise. Why would that be important? You figured Alfred would take over. He was basically raising you anyway. “The guardianship is placed with Richard John Grayson.” Your blood ran ice cold.
You slowly turned to look at Dick in horror. Dick stared back at you. You couldn’t read his expression, but you could tell he wasn’t surprised by the news. He knew before coming into this.
“No,” you whispered. The rage bubbling it’s way to the surface like beginning of a volcanic eruption. “No!” You were on your feet. Red filled your vision.
“Mx. (Y/N), calm down,” Alfred soothed, coming to your side. You jumped away from him only to find Dick on his feet as well.
“No, I will not accept this!” You turned to Lucius. Lucius was taken back, afraid by your reaction. “Change it now! I will not be stuck with him! I want nothing to do with him! Anyone else, but him!”
“I can’t change the will,” Lucius said helplessly. Your breath got caught in your throat. Dick moved closer to you, but you scurried away toward Damian.
“Damian, please. Don’t let him do this,” you begged. Your voice broke. It was like someone had a fist around your neck.
Damian blinked, stunned by your reaction. “I can’t, (Y/N). It is for the best.” His betrayal hit you like a punch in the stomach. You looked to Tim, Steph, Barbara, and Cass, but none of them would meet your eye. Finally, you looked to Jason who was hanging around in the back of the room.
“Jay, please?” It was a pitiful cry. You felt the tension increase in the room.
He shared a long look with Dick. “Sorry, kid,” Jason coughed. You flinched, dancing away when Dick used the distraction as a chance to come closer. Your heart shattered.
“Oh I get it,” you said in a low, dangerous voice. Everyone in the room was taken back by the tone in your voice. “It’s because I’m a murderer, isn’t it?” No one said anything. A cold, chilling laugh escaped you. You sounded insane, but you didn’t care. “I killed Dad and Bane, so now you’ll just throw me to the wolves. Well, I won’t go.” A sob racked it’s way through your body. “I don’t need any of you, and I definitely don’t need you.” You turned to face Dick, narrowing your eyes when you saw the fear in his eyes.
Dick swallowed hard before his expression hardened. “(Y/N), you need to calm down.” He took another step toward you.
“NO!” You let out a primal screech, letting all your emotions into it. Everyone else covered their ears while Dick didn’t react at all. You grabbed one of those stupid metal statuettes your father had on his desk and threw it at him. Dick caught it, staying where he was.
“(Y/N).” Dick set the statuette back on the desk. His mouth twitched. You were making him mad. Good. “What are you trying to gain out of this?”
You snorted as the smell of smoke, rotting fish, and iron came back to you. The headache was now pounding your temple like a sledgehammer. The horrid, wet crack filled your ears again. All you wanted was quiet. You covered your ears to block it.
Dick was suddenly reaching out to touch you. You screamed again before using all your strength to run out of the room. Others tried to stop you, but you fought them off like a wild animal. Scratching, biting until you were free. The only thought on your mind was getting to the quiet. You needed the quiet.
After losing the others for a second, you found a unused closet down one of the upstairs hallways. You slipped inside. The darkness was soothing. With your hands firmly over your ears, you sank to your knees to breathe in the quiet.
Your heart ached like a hole had been pieced in it. Tears stung your eyes. You had often wondered once you began to remember killing Bane why you hadn’t been punished? Why weren’t you in jail? Your father would have arrested you for it, why didn’t anyone else?
You shook your head, lying down on the hard, cold floor of the closet. Racing footsteps ran through the hallway, the light flickering beneath the door. You held your breath until they moved on. Maybe they were planning on punishing you in their own way? That’s probably why Dick was made your guardian to make you pay for your crimes. After all, nothing hurts more than the fact that Dick suddenly had completely control over your life. Your eyelids began to grow heavy. A wave of exhaustion flowed through you and you let yourself fade away into the nothingness of sleep.
***
“Where is (Y/N)?” Jason’s voice echoed loudly in your ear. You opened your eyes in fear before relaxing when you saw you were still in the dark closet.
“They’re in the closet,” Dick sighed. His voice came from right outside of the door. You wanted to tense up from him finding you, but you were too tired. At least he left you alone somewhat.
The floor creaked as part of the light from under the door got block. One of them sat against the door. “So what’s your plan?” Jason asked after a long silent minute.
“What do you mean?” The rest of the light from under the door got block. You heard the floor creak as the other one sat down in front of the door.
“Are you planning to keep them locked in there or what? I mean (Y/N) really doesn’t like you,” Jason said. You found yourself eager to hear what Dick would say.
Dick sighed. You could picture him running his hand through his hair like he always did when he was frustrated. “I’m planning on taking care of them. They need help, Jay. You saw how they freaked out at the will reading.”
Jason snorted. “I hate to point this out, but they only freaked when they found out you got custody of them.” He was enjoying this a tad too much.
“(Y/N) just lost their father. They saw him die.” Dick’s voice cracked. “Not to mention they killed Bane too.”
“I thought we decided not to talk about that. We convinced the cops that it was some kind of assassin.” You rolled onto your side to stare at the door.
“We did, but it’s clear (Y/N) remembers now.” Dick sighed again. “I hoped they wouldn’t remember that, but we can’t ignore it if they remember now. We have to help (Y/N) heal.” The two men fell quiet. You had to admit, you didn’t feel bad for killing Bane. Maybe you were a monster for not feeling guilty about taking a life, but rather you felt guilty for not saving your father’s.
Jason took a shaky breath. You wondered if he was trying not to cry. “I’m glad they killed him. Though, I wish I’d been the one to do it, they don’t need to bear that burden.”
“I’m not going to say anything, because you know I disagree with you. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” Dick whispered. Jason snorted, but didn’t say anything. Another long minute of silence past between them. “What did your letter from Bruce say?”
He grunted. “Bruce just wrote the normal stuff. How he always thought of me as a son, wanted me to stop killing, but understood that I made a difference, etc. Why? What did yours say?”
“That he loved me, and was proud that I left the life behind.” Dick paused. “Then he thanked me for helping Damian.” He took a shaky breath. “And then he asked me to do the same for (Y/N).” You stiffened. He must be lying. Your father would have never asked him that, he knew how you felt about Dick. He wouldn’t do that to you, would he?
“Well, that’s going very well so far. I mean, you got (Y/N) to freak out and lock themselves in a closet.” Jason chuckled humorlessly.
“I didn’t think they would react that way.”
“The bite on my arm begs to differ.” Jason hissed. You felt your cheeks heat up. Was it Jason’s arm you bit? You thought it was Dick’s.
Dick sighed. “Okay, I knew they’d take the news badly, but I didn’t think it would be like that. I thought I could reason with them.”
Jason hummed. “Sure you did.” He was quiet a moment. “What did you do to make them so mad at you?”
You held your breath, waiting for Dick to reply. “I think part of it is jealousy. I spent a lot of time with Damian when I came to visit. There were times I didn’t see (Y/N) at all, because we’re doing Nightwing and Robin stuff.” Dick choked a little. “But it got worse when Bruce decided to make (Y/N) Robin. I fought with him on it, saying (Y/N) was too young and didn’t have the proper training. (Y/N) overheard.”
“No wonder they hate you. They’ve only been training to be Robin their whole life,” Jason retorted. “Do you know how many tests they had to pass before Bruce would even consider it? I mean we both got it easy compared to that.”
“I know. I never agreed with any of that.” You hated him more than you thought you could. “You remember when Bruce died the first time with Darkseid? I took over raising (Y/N) for almost a year. They were only four and didn’t know what was going on. I wanted them to have a normal life, but I couldn’t give it to them. I had to take up the cowl, and stop Damian from going on murder spree. But I did the best I could until Bruce returned and I gave (Y/N) back to him.”
You couldn’t believe he was such an idiot. Your hand clenched into a fist. Sure, Dick saying you didn’t have what it takes to be Robin hurt, but not as much as being abandoned by him. He made it sound so simple. ‘I gave (Y/N) back to him’. You had to hold back a sob, knowing they’d hear it. It wasn’t like he could act like your dad for a year and just hand you back without any consequences. Then, to have him say you were simply jealous when he spent all his visits years after with Damian. It was like someone knifed your heart and was twisting it in deeper.
“No wonder they hate you,” Jason muttered. You sensed Jason had a clue about what was really going on, but he didn’t try telling Dick. Not that Dick would listen. He never did.
Dick hummed, not saying anymore. You suddenly felt so tired. Why did your father have to die? You would have never had to deal with this if he didn’t. Why didn’t you save him? All the doubts went round in your mind, making you feel sick to your stomach. It was at that moment that you realized you haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday morning. How long had it been?
“Master Dick, Master Jason, dinner is served,” Alfred said. You could hear him approaching the door. “Has Mx. (Y/N) awoken yet?” Your heart skipped a beat. Of course, they thought you were asleep. Why else would they talk so honestly if they thought you couldn’t hear them? You quickly turned away from the door and relaxed to pretend you were asleep. Your stomach rumbled with hunger, but you ignored it. You deserved to go hungry.
Dick and Jason thumped to their feet before the door creaked open. You could see the light shine in, blinding you even with your eyes closed. “They’re still asleep,” Dick said.
Alfred sighed. “Well, Mx. (Y/N) needs to eat too. They’ve already lost too much weight as it is.” You wondered how he knew that, but then again Alfred noticed everything.
“You two go ahead. I’ll wake them up and bring them down,” Dick said.
“Are you sure you can handle that, Dick?” Jason asked uncertainly. You clenched your hand into a fist against your chest.
“Go on. I don’t want you to get bitten again, Jay. I’ll meet you down there.” You heard Alfred and Jason leave. The weight of Dick’s presence was heavy in the tiny closet. You hated him. “Come on, (Y/N). I know you’re awake. You heard everything.” His hand touched your arm gently, but you jerked away from him.
He was blocking the door, so you slid back until your back hit the wall. “Don’t touch me.”
Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair. You had a flash of when you were four and wouldn’t go to bed. He did the same thing before he offered to read you to sleep. You wanted to cry from the memory. “(Y/N), why do you have to make this so hard? I know you miss your dad, honey, and I know you’re suffering, because you think you killed him. You didn’t kill him.”
“I didn’t save him. That’s the same thing,” you snapped back. “Besides, I did kill Bane. Why didn’t you tell the cops that? Then I could spent my life in prison and you could go back to whatever is that you do. Actually, I would prefer that then having to live with you.”
He flinched, eyes wide with surprise. “You don’t mean that, do you?”
You narrowed your eyes. A lump grew in your throat. Don’t let him convince you that he cares. He doesn’t care. “Yes, I do.”
His mouth became a fine line. Anger making his eyes brighter. “Let’s put it this way. You confess to the cops and you’ll expose yourself as Robin, your father as Batman, and Damian as the new Batman at the very least. It’s not going to hurt me if you do that. I’m retired from Nightwing. They won’t make the connection, and you’ll be alone.”
Uncontrollable rage filled you. He dared to say you’ll be alone. You were already alone. Your father died, and now suddenly Dick gets to come back into your life like he never abandoned you.
Dick saw the change in your expression and tensed. You flung yourself at him, knocking him out of the closet and into the hallway. Red filled your vision as you punched at him. He blocked each punch until he finally caught your fists in his hands. You snarled, kicking him. Dick pushed you away, but you came back at him again.
The two of you fought long and hard. Despite the rage and the urge to hurt him, you noticed he wasn’t hitting you back. He was on the defensive.
“Hit me,” you growled. He blocked another one of your punches. You quickly jumped off the wall to get more leverage on a kick to his face.
“I’m not going to hit you.” He blocked the kick easily and flipped you to the floor. You tumbled roughly. Your ankle twisted from the bad landing. A gasp of pain escaped your lips. The exhaustion had worked it’s way deep into your bones and you couldn’t get up. Tears started streaming down your cheeks. You hid your face into the carpet, embarrassed, hungry, and tired. The rage you had was spent and now all you wanted to do was cry.
There was a hand on your back before you felt yourself being picked up. Dick gently cradled you in his arms. He sat down against the wall, tightening his arms around you. “It’s okay, honey. Cry it out,” he soothed into your ear.
You did what he said, crying the tears you didn’t know you still had. It felt like you already cried for years in these last few weeks. However, you hadn’t forgiven Dick. You would allow him this moment of weakness on your part, but he hadn’t broken you like he believed he had. After all, you were your father’s child.
Request: Hey I love your writing! Can you write a part 2 to grocery dates? Where baby Todd meets the rest of the Batman and the shenanigans that follow?? If you don’t want to, thats good too. I hope you’re doing well during this weird time! Thanks xx
Requested by: Anon...from like a year ago. Sorry for the long wait!
Word Count: 655
Sequel to Grocery Dates
"And you're sure Jason said 'we'?"
"Positive." Bruce confirmed.
"He's never brought a date back here," Dick mused. "Things really must be serious. I wonder what she's like."
"She kind of just babbles on about nothing," Damian supplied.
"You met her?"
"Yes. When I was stuck as Pennyworth's 'assistant.' He adores her." Damian didn't bother to hide the smirk on his face, relishing in his misdirection. As far as he was concerned, this was retribution for the last time they decided he should be treated like a child in front of the press.
"Well, tell us about her," Dick urged.
"I don't really know much else, but her name is Y/N." The looks of his captive audience urged Damian to continue. "Pennyworth trusts her opinion on produce, she apparently enjoys drawing, and-"
He was cut off by the sound of giggles floating into the room. As Jason appeared alone in the doorway, he was sure he could see his family try to adjust to the whiplash they subjected themselves to. It still pained him to see the disappointment on their faces when they registered it was only him standing in front of them.
"You said 'we,' but you're here just a 'you'," Tim said, deciding to forego all greetings.
"Y/N'll be in here in a minute," Jason assured them. "There was no way I was getting her away from Alfred that fast for tonight's little dinner date."
Dick decided to take the lead on the impromptu interrogation, barely letting Jason take a seat on the couch before firing off his first question. "So how did you meet her? How long have you been dating Y/N?"
"Dating Y/N?" Jason shot back incredulously. "Why would you think I'm dating a toddler? My toddler."
"But Damian said-" Tim interjected.
"I never said she was his girlfriend," Damian answered. He didn't make any attempt to hide the smug smirk "I was only asked what she was like, not her relationship to Jason. It's your own fault for assuming."
Before anyone could argue, you appeared in the doorway, walking in as though you'd lived here your entire life. Jason watched as everybody's eyes followed you as you climbed straight into his lap, and in that moment, he knew they'd all already fallen in love with you. He'd seen it happen time and time again beginning with the moment you'd been placed in his arms.
Jason pulled himself from his thoughts about how you always seemed to be the bright spot wherever you went and shifted his focus back to you and your excited retelling of your tour of the kitchen and dining room. It never ceased to amaze him how even the simplest places and things excited you. As he watched the excitement tumble out of your mouth with every word, he could see how much you needed to be here and have more people in your life that elicited this kind of excitement from you.
"What do you think, kiddo?" he started as you paused for a breath. "I rework some nighttime patrol stuff and you get more dinner dates over here with Papa and everyone else?”
The way your smile seemed to grow larger than he ever thought was possible was all the answer he needed from you. To him, you deserved the world, or at the very least, more family than just him.
“I, for one, think that’s an excellent idea,” Bruce agreed, a gentle smile on his face to try and charm you. “We’ll all have a chance to get to know each other better with these dinner dates.”
Jason struggled to stifle his laughter as you whipped your head around to the sound of the voice, and with the most inquisitive look he'd ever seen you questioned, "If this is Papa’s house, then who are you?"
In that moment you left no uncertainty that you were most definitely your father’s daughter.
Summary: When friends move, you help out in exchange for pizza and beer. Those are the rules, even when you don't like beer and you like your friend way more than just a friend.
Word Count: 1353
The offer had been simple enough. Jason offered you pizza and beer if you helped him move. You weren't sure how much help you could actually be, but you weren't about to pass up the chance to spend the day with your friend. Deep down, though, you wished this was a moving in together kind of move instead, but for as well as Jason knew you, he was no mind reader, especially when it came to your feelings for him.
You were surprised when you got out of the moving truck he'd rented to find all of the big furniture had already been moved in. You assumed that meant he'd already moved his gear to avoid any wandering eyes as well. Together, you spent all morning moving all of the smaller boxes in tandem. The time flew by as you both joked around with each pass in the hallway and stairwell.
Before you knew it, every last box was upstairs and you were busying yourself unpacking them while Jason took care of grabbing the pizza he'd promised you. This may not be your home, but you tried to add your personal touch to the apartment.
"Helping reward's here," he announced as he set the pizza box and a couple of beers on the empty coffee table. You made a mental note to grab some large decorative books for him to put there. With a smile, you got up from your spot in front of the bookcase and joined him on the couch for a well deserved break.
The two of you had finished most of the pizza, and were quite satisfied you'd found the best pizza spot in the neighborhood, before Jason noticed he was the only one with an empty bottle. When he looked a little closer he realized you hadn't even touched the beer he'd grabbed for you.
"You good over there?" he asked. You almost thought he might still be joking around and about to make some crack about some pizza spilled on your shirt. When you looked down and confirmed nothing had fallen onto your shirt, you couldn't hide the confusion that painted your face and furrowed your brows together.
"Yeah," you confirmed cautiously. "Why?"
"I mean you've busted your ass all day and now you won't touch your beer," he explained. "You usually go drink for drink with me and now you're not so it seems like something's wrong."
"I'm fine, I promise. I just don't like beer," you explained. His puzzled look begged you to continue. "When we're at the bar I always get mixed drinks or wine. Now if you'd made a pitcher of margaritas, you never would have had a chance to even try them. But a blender really isn't the top of the list to unpack."
You may have answered his question, but you left him with so many more. He brought his own drink to his mouth in an attempt to hide his visible confusion. It almost worked, but you caught the way his brows furrowed from above the bottle.
"It's probably safer this way anyway," you remarked, trying to inject a bit of humor. "You know me and tequila are a dangerous combination. Just like the song, sometimes it just means clothes start falling off."
Jason hummed in absent agreement, but you could tell you'd already lost him. He'd jumped down the rabbit hole of questions, and he wasn't going to be really listening, or at least processing what was said, until he reemerged.
"So why'd you come today?" he asked. "When I asked you, I told you I'd get pizza and beer, so you knew I didn't have anything else to offer, but you still accepted."
It felt like a now or never kind of moment. One of the ones where you could be bold or you could be practical. You mulled over your options for what felt like an eternity, and while you wanted to be bold, you didn't want to lose what you had. Instead of answering, you grabbed another piece of pizza to buy a little time. The eye roll you got in return told you Jason knew exactly what you were doing.
"I thought I could be helpful," you finally answered as you finished your slice.
"That doesn't feel like the whole answer," Jason scoffed.
"Maybe," you confirmed. "But it also begs the question why you asked me to come help today if you already had everything moved in up here but some boxes in a half empty moving truck, or why I'm the only person you asked to come help you?"
Taking a page out of your book, Jason snagged your untouched beer to avoid having to answer.
"You want a full answer? I'll give you as full an answer as you'll get for right now," you began. Now it seemed you may have finally found the courage to be bold. "I wanted to spend time with you. You're always off wrangling supervillains and drug lords, which don't get me wrong is great and all. It has dropped the number of break-ins in my building to almost none. But that doesn't mean I don't miss you, because I do. I always do. A lot."
He started to choke on his drink, telling you you'd given a little more of an answer than you'd wanted to give. You couldn't say you were a fan of this emotional vulnerability, but your chest did feel ever so slightly lighter. You tried to read his face for a moment for some sort of reciprocation, but feeling the heat rise in your own face forced you to turn back to your empty plate. Your eyes only darted back over to him once you heard the bottle connect with the table.
"Maybe I wanted to spend time with you too. Maybe I didn't want all of the noise with my brothers and Roy around, especially when they manage to break something." With each 'maybe,' his voice grew a little more pointed and defensive, and you thought you could see a vulnerability that mirrored your own in his eyes. "Maybe I wanted this place to have your touch and feel like you. Maybe -"
You cut him off, leaning across the couch and kissing him. It was too rare in life that you got a second chance on a now or never moment, and you didn't want to squander it. You could only describe the feeling as a wave of excitement followed by a rush of relief when he raised his hand to your face and pulled you closer, returning the kiss.
"Maybe," his voice was softer now, almost cracking, "Maybe I've wanted that to happen for a very long time."
You felt breathless, but that didn't stop the smile from growing across your face. This time when you looked in his eyes, they seemed to share your mixture of excitement and relief. You couldn't help yourself as a small chuckle broke through.
"You like me, you really, really like me," you teased in a sing-song voice, only pausing to make kissy noises in the air. "You like -"
Having had his own feelings confirmed, Jason cut off your teasing as he pulled you into another kiss. When you both finally let go, he kept his forehead pressed to yours, watching as your eyes shifted back into focus. He wore a self-assured grin as he said, "There's no maybe about that."
"No, I don't think there is," you agreed. You sat back a little, trying to sear this moment into your memory forever. "Who would've thought a stupid beer could make this happen?"
"I should have brought you some beer to not drink ages ago," he joked, pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You settled into your contentment in his arms, knowing now you may never have to leave this feeling again. "Next time I'll have tequila, it sounded like those consequences are fun."
You rolled your eyes in response as you wiggled a little closer into his side. Yeah, some post-margarita consequences now sounded a lot more appealing.
Request: So! Could you possibly do a request with JasonxReader where reader has been working like crazy, and nonstop. And Jason isn’t happy that she’s been nonstop, and Jason notices how tired the reader looks and forces her to take a break and sleep? That sounds cute haha
Requested by: Anon
Word Count: 972
Everything about you ached, from the dull pain that never seemed to go away in your feet to the headache that never really seemed to get better. You tried to hide your discomfort, but that was more of a lie you told yourself so you wouldn't have to admit how exhausted and beat down you were and how incredibly obvious it was.
Even going inside after work felt daunting. Yes, home was still your safehaven to relax and ignore the outside world, but being home brough its own responsibilities you didn't want to deal with. So instead of going inside to begin to decide on what to make for dinner or to go through the bills still sitting on the table, you stood in the hallway outside your apartment door with your eyes closed and your forehead leaning against the doorframe. It was a futile effort to make time stop, made abundantly clear when you were interrupted by a very confused looking delivery man handing you a bag of food and asking for $28.75. You fished two twenties out of your wallet to give the delivery guy before waving him off and heading inside. At least now you didn't have to worry about dinner.
"That was supposed to be a surprise," Jason said, hurrying over to take the bag of food from your hands, allowing you to put your keys and work bag down.
"It still was," you assured him with a soft smile. "I really didn't feel like cooking tonight."
As Jason brought the food into the kitchen and started to unload dinner, you toed off your shoes, wiggling your toes in relief. You let that feeling wash over you before you bent down and lifted your laptop out of your bag.
"You are not seriously still working right now," Jason chided you. "You've been working doubles all week, and I'm not even sure when you last had a day off. You're running yourself ragged and need to take some time to actually relax and take care of yourself."
"Well aren't you just the pot calling the kettle black," you retorted, finally looking up from the computer. Just as Jason opened his mouth to argue, you continued, "I may be overworked, but you don't get to lie to me that you aren't overworking yourself too. In the last four nights alone you've bled on the couch, on the shower curtain, on the bathroom rug, on the duvet cover, on my pillow, and on my pajamas, while I was wearing them and asleep."
"In my defense, I thought I had stitched that wound up better and I didn't know I was going to bleed through the bandage," he argued. When it came to making sure you were taking care of yourself, he never liked to be on defense. "But point taken, we both need to take a break before we kill ourselves."
You had a feeling that had been too easy. Jason never really offered to sideline himself without somebody else really forcing it upon him. You stared him down, pulling your lips into a thin line as you thought through just how to prod the truth out of him.
"Fine, you win," he broke down. Even this felt too easy, but you weren't going to fight it yet. "Bruce has me on patrol lockdown for the next week because apparently my recent injuries make me a liability, and since you need a vacation, I thought…"
"Well at least I'm the better option to being put into a forcible house arrest," you deadpanned. You knew what you were doing, and you hated that you were letting your sour mood twist his words. "Or am I just considered a babysitter?"
"That came out wrong," Jason sputtered, desperately trying to backpedal. You started to feel a little bad watching him crumble. The man won't flinch when he's outnumbered and outgunned, but a glare from you stops him in his tracks.
"Yeah, I'd say it did," you agreed, softening your approach. "But yes, I get your point. Just let me send this email right now saying I need to take my personal days through the end of the week and that I will be unreachable until I come back next week."
In the years that you'd known him, you'd never seen him so excited to have to take time off of patrol. You tried to commit that look to memory for the next time he was gone far too long on a mission with Roy and you needed something to make you smile.
As you closed your laptop, he took it from you to be placed out of sight until you actually needed it again. You felt a little bad when you saw him wince from where one of his stitches must have started to pull again, but even that didn't seem to bother him too much.
“So, my dear kettle, what would you like to do first?” He asked, pulling your feet onto his lap and beginning to knead from the calves down.
It wasn't instant, it never was, but as he kneaded the knots and aches, the weight of the stress slowly began to lift off of you. You let your eyes fall shut and your head roll back as you hummed in appreciation.
"Literally nothing," you finally answered. "My dear pot, let's just eat, put on a movie, and pass out. When we wake up in the morning without an alarm we can figure out what's next."
"You read my mind."
The growing excitement in his voice told you he was really the pot to your kettle. The world and all of its headaches will still be there in a week and all of its headaches, but for now you both could pretend there was nothing but the two of you.
Summary: Bringing a new child into your family can be hard. It's too easy to compare him to those who came before and incredibly difficult to build trust with a child who never got to be one. Sometimes it takes just being there for him.
Word Count: 704
You didn't know it at the time, but it had been easy with Dick. He may have needed time to heal before opening up, but he already knew how to accept love in his life. On the other hand, there was Jason. Nothing in his life so far had been anything remotely near easy, so why would this be any different.
It hadn't been the first time you noticed the differences between the boys, it was just the most glaring you'd experienced so far. It wasn't like the boy hated you, he'd never shown you any disdain, but he wasn't exactly receptive to you or your efforts either. Where Bruce had a connection, you had nothing but frustration to show.
As your hand rested on the heavy bedroom door, you couldn't help but be brought back to the first time you were here with Dick. He was plagued with nightmares, not of the horrors in Gotham, but still reliving the night of his parents' deaths. Sure, he had tried to put on a brave face as his screams and tears woke him, but he still welcomed your comforting embrace as he let the facade fall. You missed that, that feeling of being needed.
Now tonight, you felt the tears well up in your eyes as you listened to Jason's thrashing in his sleep. this was the third night this week alone, and each time you tried to go in and let him know it was okay and he was safe, he just turned away and barked at you to leave. You were fighting the urge to barrel down that door and remind him that he was safe and loved, but you had a feeling that might be a little bit more for you than for him. He needed to be ready himself for that, you couldn't force it upon him.
You winced as you listened to each pained scream through the old oak door, feeling as though you were the one being tortured. You let your head thud against the door as your hand fell to the door knob, finally giving in to try and offer some help. The doorknob began to turn before you could get a grip, washing you in a wave of surprise.
"You...you...you were still coming in?" Jason stammered, practically falling into you.
Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around him. He almost melted into your caring touch, though a moment of hesitation still remained.
“Of course,” you breathed, “I couldn't stand by knowing you were hurting. It may have only been a dream, but the hurt was still there and so am I.”
Your heart broke as Jason began to cry against you. Try as he may to deceive you, he was still very much a child. He was your responsibility to take care of, and that was not a responsibility you took lightly.
“You’re okay,” you said as you rubbed small circles into his back. “You’re okay. You're not in this alone anymore, you don't have to white knuckle it when things get bad. I'm right here for you, always.”
You wished it were really that simple, that the pain he was feeling could just be washed away. Tonight may be a large step forward, but it was still going to be a long road ahead until the trust was fully built between you. Jason was growing and with each time you were there to pick up the pieces every time he fell apart, he was learning how to accept love.
As he began to calm his breathing, you led him back into his room and to his bed. Sitting yourself on the edge, you urged him to climb in and made sure he wasn't in this alone. You played your fingers through his hair, the way you had when Dick was in the manor, the way you still do for Bruce after a tough night. Jason fell asleep with your presence reminding him he no longer had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders because he had a family to take care of him. Before long, you fell asleep yourself, the ache of not being able to help your son finally having subsided.
