"Yes Sir -Understood, Yes Sir, Good night." He sets the phone down on the cradle, the rattle-click sharp, takes two steps and sits in his office chair.
Le Harve, U-Boats. New Heat Cameras. Low steady pass, tonight. Tonight.
Damn. He lets out his breath in a long whoosh which surely they couldn't call a sigh. Of a dozen pilots, the fact that it's a PR run, takes him down to two. Foyle, and Woods.
One man, one Plane. That's how it's been, always Oh, they're to a specification, but every plane is still an individual, you have to know the pulls, the favourings, the silly things.
All the more crucial when you need, by edict from above; 'A low steady pass, the clearest shots' Essential to the supply and the War effort.
And a Spit skimming along like a sitting duck. And Woods Spit is still being mended, after he caught that flack on the last pass, damaged wing and damaged the Camera struts.
One Man, One Plane - it has to be Foyle. The experienced one, with the practise and the nerve to hold the steady line.
It can't be Foyle. TheFoyle of last autumn yes, Foyle now, No. Snappish rather than defiant, exhausted even if he won't admit it, pulling away from the others. He's seen it before, the gradual fraying of the threads. Fifteen Ops last week, ten the week before.
And brave and true that they are, pilots like Foyle will fly to the last of their adrenaline, if you send them. But in the split second they won't be quick enough, their judgment worn that little bit too fine
It would be death. Send Foyle, and I might as well write his telegram as soon as he's off the ground.
One Man, One Plane. I have Woods, who's good enough and I have Foyle's PR Spit.
Summary: There's a new kid in town, and she's got a city to usurp.
Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader
Word Count: 7.3k
Warnings: violence (Jason spars with reader), language, threats, mention of arson
AN: this one is a little long and mostly filler, a big chunk of it is a fight scene and I tend to get long winded on those. Photos are from Pinterest, credit to original creator.
Stephanie watched as YN took off in a short sprint, before launching her weight onto her hands. She pushed off her palms and back to her feet, three times in a row. Landing back on her feet for a moment.
Then she lost her balance, toppling, grunting discontentedly.
“You’re getting better— lighter on your feet.” Stephanie instructed, pointing down to where Yn’s feet met the ground. “Remember when you land, keep your weight even and land on the balls of your feet. If you land on your heels, you’ll bruise them, and possibly shatter your ankles.”
She put a hand out.
YN nodded, accepting the extended hand. Steph tugged her up, their shoulders bumping.
“As much training as you have obviously had, you weren’t taught any basics?” Damian asked, his brow lifted.
YN wrapped her towel around the back of her neck, letting it wick the sweat away. When Cassandra offered an extra water bottle, she accepted, cracking it open as she answered.
“I wasn’t lucky enough to have League training— Shadows or Justice,” YN explained, she dropped to a knee, resting her forearm across the other. “It was back alley, bootleg, mafia training.”
And that, it truly was.
She had never even seen half of the equipment that the Wayne’s had in their gym.
Adrian had trained her in various warehouses and alley’s behind his businesses. He had shipped her off to some guy for two weeks, one year. The guy nearly wore her down to nothing, with how consistent his methods were. And how often he handed her ass to her.
Not to mention the various boxing rings and torture cellars. Or the spontaneous sneak attacks. The kidnapping attempts; Everything orchestrated to prepare her for the worst situations.
She hadn’t been taught parkour, or acrobatics, or anything to preserve herself. YN had been taught that she was a crude instrument.
That her body didn’t matter, as long as it was powerful.
Her schooling consisted of brute force opposition and an undeniable defense. But her bones ached and her joints creaked.
Years of wear and tear, and abuse under the guise of training.
And for a while, she had just accepted it. That was simply the cost of being powerful. Body aches and strains, trembling muscles. Broken bones, fractures— a whole slew of problems.
But that was the price for her training. To know how to be the strongest weapon she could be.
All in his name.
“Either way, you’re doing great.” Dick assured her. He didn’t know much of her past, but for her to be trained the way she was— it took serious discipline and time. He doubted she chose her own path at that young of an age. And because of that, he didn’t want to linger on the topic of her past for too long. It seemed to be a touchy subject. “You’ll be out on patrol in no time.”
Jason glared harder at his screen, clenching his jaw.
If that was their big goal, the whole family needed their heads checked.
Hell, maybe they needed it anyways.
“That’s exactly where we need her: where she can endanger the public.” Stephanie teased, leaning back on to Duke’s shoulder. Duke hummed in agreement— albeit a bit more serious than she— and crossed his arms.
“Watch your mouth; I’ll endanger you.” She jabbed, stretching both arms above her head.
“You wanna take this to the ring?” Steph barked, pointing over her shoulder.
The blue mats echoed the sentiment, eagerly awaiting their next use. The next two opponents to step into their bloodthirsty noose.
“Oh, please, none of you were even close to taking me down last time.” YN gloated, smirking at her obvious prowess.
Nearly all of them groaned— recalling when each of them had taken her to the mats, only to have her lay them flat.
No matter how well they started out, or how many blows they landed on her, she was always victorious.
Dick finished his round of stretches, arms dropping to his lap. He glanced across the room to where a particular body sat.
He had been keeping to himself— acting more as a babysitter. Jason had kept an eye on YN, while she was in the company of his family. Dick knew it was because he didn’t trust any of them, YN included.
But that little part of him— maybe the most hopeless of romantics— thought it was because he didn’t want to be too far away.
Like his body craved hers in proximity, and being in the same room was enough, for now.
Either way, YN meant Jason. As long as she was there, he wasn’t far behind.
Dick nearly called out to his younger sibling, prepared to either goad him on or disgruntle him; Until out of nowhere, someone else did it for him.
“Why don’t you join in, Jason?” Barbara called, inviting Jason into the present. Attempting to jolt him out of his reverie.
He narrowed his eyes, and Barbara only returned with a grin. Her fingers traced imaginary patterns over her wheelchair armrests.
She was trying to trap him.
Jason was one of the most, if not the best, advanced combat fighter she had ever seen. He was powerful, smart.
He was the perfect opponent for YN to learn something against. Because the rest of these losers had been flat on their backs within minutes.
Cassandra had been their only hope— holding out longer than the others, landing blows against her opponent.
Jason cast a glance to YN— her overconfidence practically casting a glorious light over her surroundings. Her face alight with a grin.
“Yeah, right.” Jason snorted, returning to his work.
A woman had hired him to investigate her husband. It was easy work— he wasn’t exactly hiding his infidelity from anyone other than his wife.
“Afraid I’ll beat your ass again?” YN taunted.
Jason paused, his hands freezing on the keys of his laptop. He looked over his shoulder at her, fixing on her smug expression.
“Again? Tails, I don’t seem to recall any time you beat my ass. At anything. ” He retorted, his chair turning to face her.
“The first and second. Rooftop.”
“That was a draw.” He clarified, eyebrows tilting upward.
“No, you had backup arrive before I was done with you. I think you owe me, Red.”
Jason pursed his lips.
She knew the outcome of those fights, already. Had he been solo, she would’ve ripped him to shreds. Burnt him to a crisp. So why was she so adamant on a redo?
Was she hoping to embarrass him in front of more people? Remind him that she was better? Or just use him to expel built up energy?
“Come on, Jay. What’s it gonna hurt?” Stephanie pushed, tapping her hands against the mat she was seated on.
‘His ego.’ Cass signed, grinning.
Jason bit down on his lip. She was daring him. Both of them. Cass and YN both wore the same conniving expressions.
If he had known the two of them would get along so famously, he wouldn’t have even considered staying in the Manor.
Or perhaps it was a good idea to play Yn’s impulse control. He wasn’t sure how long the pair of them would last without a third party playing sanity.
“Fine. I’ll show all of you.” He relented, tugging his hoodie from his body.
He ignored the excited, taunting whoops from the sidelines as he stepped into the boundary lines.
Jason very rarely participated in family activities, that included training of all sorts. It wasn’t necessarily that he was above it all, but he was.
The few times he had joined, he dominated the playing field every time. There was no use in him training with them, in his mind.
So he usually stuck to his workouts and various other tasks.
But now…. Now he may have a viable opponent.
YN abandoned her rest area, tossing the towel and bottle back where she had been sitting. Her feet entered the ring on the floor, and they kept moving. She began at a slow pace, nearly circling him in anticipation.
“Come on.” She taunted, a sly grin taking over her features. Her eyes glittered dangerously.
Jason scoffed at the notion.
The more comfortable she got, the more cocky she was. He supposed her confidence was valid— she was incredibly skilled and stubborn as a mule.
He stepped into the ring, his shoulders broadened. Making himself larger than her was no use— she had proven resistant to his intimidating structure.
But he had learned a thing or two, watching her fight. Fighting against her, and with her.
She was no easy target.
YN made the first move— launching from the outer edge toward his side of the ring.
Her left fist aimed at his gut; He blocked easily, but missed his mark on her right, as it swung into an uppercut against his jaw.
His teeth rattled, but he was unperturbed by it. Grappling her wrists, he tugged her forward, his forehead aiming for her face.
YN let her legs drop out, becoming deadweight in his grasp. Jason grunted, attempting to right himself. Taking advantage of his unkiltered stance, she ducked between his legs, ripping her wrists back into her own control and elbowed behind his knees.
He didn’t go down to the floor, but it was enough for her to get back to her feet and swing an elbow onto the back of his neck.
Jason growled, throwing an arm out to gain distance. Avoiding his defensive move, YN leapt back.
She lingered for a moment, waiting to see his next move. While he got to his feet, she debated drawing this out, to see if he would catch a second wind and fight harder. Or if one move would KO him.
This was creeping toward fun.
Jason swung a fist at her left side, then her right. YN dodged and weaved through his punches, as if it were a dance she had been practicing for weeks.
Just as she had begun expecting his next move, Jason sent the heel of his palm into her nose. YN stumbled back with a shout, her hands coming up to block her face, too late.
She wiped blood away, glancing at the crimson liquid in her palm. Soaking through the white fabric that had been bound around her hands. Her glare swung up to see Jason, a certain gleam in his eyes.
YN scoffed, tilting her head to crack her neck.
Jason steadied his stance again, both fists raised in preparation.
YN growled as she sprung forward again, relentless in her attack. Instead of going for a retaliatory smack in the face, she latched at his waist, keeping herself at his center of gravity.
Before he could do anything about the odd choice, she had swept his legs and tackled him backwards. He grabbed at her body, but she quickly rolled over him, out of reach.
Jason pushed himself to his feet, just as her fist came down where his face had been. He wedged his foot against her shoulder and shoved her onto her ass. YN rolled onto her side, but Jason didn’t relent. He kicked her over again, flat onto her belly. Not allowing her a moment to recoup.
YN grunted, and Jason dropped his knee between her shoulder blades. Pressing all his weight into her. She squawked in pain, palms banging against the mats; She pushed back against his mass, getting nowhere.
“No back up now, is there?” He sneered, his hands dropping on top of hers, pressing her in place. She squirmed, body thrashing to no avail.
With a growl, she tossed her head back in hopes he was close enough. Luckily, he was; The back of her head catching his nose. Jason grunted, his hold loosening just enough for her to roll the pair over.
Jason fell to the mats, propped on one elbow in preparation to get back to his feet.
YN had different plans; She rose to her knees, above him, and let her fist come down against his face.
The taste of metallic blood coated his tongue, liquid dropped from the corner of his mouth. YN took hold of his hair during his moment of surprise and maneuvered her way behind him. Her chest pressed against his back.
Arms wrapped around his throat. Jason gasped, only for her to press harder. His hands came up to her arms, nails pressing— scraping— down her flesh. She hissed, but added pressure.
Jason’s vision wavered— eyes watering.
“Tap out!” She growled, keeping her stance steady as Jason thrashed.
He thrust his elbow into her gut, then rocked his weight back, sending them both to the floor. On her back.
His skull bounced against her stomach, forcing all the wind from her chest.
A deep cough nearly gagged her; Forcibly releasing her grasp on Jason, he wrapped his hands around her wrists and dealt another blow to her face.
She didn’t give him the opportunity to do it a third time, as she spit a bloody glob in his face. Jason flinched, trying to avoid it.
She kicked him away and scrambled to her feet.
Jason lumbered onto his own weakened knees, joints aching at the exertion. YN dragged her hand across her mouth, wiping blood that had dripped from her nose.
“You’re the best they’ve got? I’ve seen toddlers with better tactics.” YN called, her grin stained red.
“You talk too much.” Jason panted.
Without giving another spare moment, he launched forward again. YN braced herself, unmoving from his path. He lifted his fist again, prepared to knock her down.
Until YN caught his fist and tucked her shoulder into his gut, sending his body rolling over her back and straight to the floor.
YN followed immediately, her weight on his chest. Forearm pressed to his trachea.
“And you put too much weight into a backhand.” She smiled.
Jason panted, staring up into her eyes. Sweat dripped from her brow, landing against his cheek. He swallowed hard; Blood rushed to his face at her triumphant, predatory grin.
In that instant, the world fell from around him. He was no longer on the floor of the Manor, surrounded by his family.
Instead, he was somewhere… floating alongside her. Beneath her. The pressure of her arm, pliant enough to give him a chance to breathe. It didnt keep him from hurdling through the stratosphere— pieces of himself fragmenting away the longer he stared at her.
Into her eyes.
For a moment, he was frozen in time. The weight of her body against his own was strangely comforting. Her proximity didn’t send barbs of discomfort down his spine. Her touch didn’t feel like insects, crawling over his skin.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jason go to the mat before.” A voice pitched in his ear— laughter following the statement.
Jason nearly gave himself whiplash at the speed that he regained consciousness. YN was clamoring from his body, her knees straddled his hips as she leaned back to push herself to her feet.
A sharp exhale forced his lungs to collapse; They had been holding air for longer than he cared to admit.
What the fuck?
Alarms rang in his head— suddenly noisy as opposed to the quiet, comprehending solitude he had experienced moments prior.
“She bruise your ego that badly, Little Wing?” Dick jeered, extending his palm to his disoriented brother. Still lying on the mats.
He ignored the offer of help, opting to gain his own balance once more.
“Sorry about hitting you,” Jason muttered, swiping his palm across his face. The skin of his hands returned blood stained and sweat soaked. “I try not to participate in friendly fire anymore.”
YN waved a hand, her other propped against her waist. Her breaths came in short pants, mainly through her mouth, as her nose was still dripping.
“All’s fair. I deserved a few of those.” She admitted, her voice sounded slightly nasally.
Jason shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning up.
He hadn’t remembered how much fun sparring used to be. And while he certainly didn’t condone hitting women, something about being in that ring with her… nearly fighting for his life…
His body nearly hummed with energy— the adrenaline still lacing his veins. His eyes drifted over to where YN was kneeling at Barbara’s side, allowing her to staunch her nose bleed.
He hadn’t fought that hard in years.
“Did you hear me?” Duke asked, assumably a second time, as Jason came back into focus. “I asked if you needed Alfred to check out those bruises?”
“No,” Jason shook his head. He backed away, grabbing his phone and laptop. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”
Without another word, he took off to the staircase and nearly sprinted up them.
“Is he okay?” YN asked, peeking over her chin from where she had her head tilted back.
“He’ll be fine,” Stephanie assured her with a grin. “He’s got to lick his wounds. You’ve got to teach me how you did that, though.”
YN grinned, accepting another clean wad of tissue from Barbara.
Jason was losing his shit.
Literally and figuratively.
His mind had to be slipping— otherwise he would’ve remembered where he left his godforsaken phone.
He’d had it taking pictures of the sunrise, a few hours earlier. And then he had gone onto one of the balcony’s to smoke a couple cigarettes.
Then he’d visited his own grave— sat for a few minutes and just stared into the carved granite headstone.
Where he went afterward— he didn’t remember exactly.
He turned into another sitting room. The curtains were opened— that was a good sign that he had been there previously.
Tracking deeper into the room, he headed directly for the objects closest to the window, where he would have haphazardly left his phone sitting.
“Where are you going?”
Jason paused, turning to see where the voice emanated from.
He peeked over the sofa; Yn’s body lay on one of Bruce’s Persian rugs, her feet kicked up behind her, a book in her hands, elbows propped up.
Dressed down in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, she looked comfortable. Like she had always belonged in the manor.
Her feet kicked again, one leg flat on the floor, the other still in the air. His eyes dropped to her ass, involuntarily.
“Why the fuck are you on the floor?” He demanded, his eyes running along her spine and finally returning to the portion of her face not hidden by her book.
“My back hurts. Where are you going?” She repeated, tilting the book down so that she could see him clearly. Jason shrugged.
“Nowhere.”
“Bullshit— you’re dressed.” YN snapped her book closed, tossing it to the side. Her palms coming to rest under her chin. Her eyes wide, staring up at him. Jason swallowed, hard— his eyes drifting to where her shirt was giving him full access to her chest. “You’re about to go somewhere.”
With his face burning, Jason tore his eyes away from her. Not trusting himself to speak when looking at her.
This was unbearable, inconvenient — pretty fucking annoying too. Why should he notice what she looks like or what she’s wearing? Why does he care?
God, he needed this embarrassment to go away. He needed all this shit to go away.
“I’ve got errands.” Jason muttered, stepping over her.
YN rolled to her back, her eyes following him across the room.
“Can I come?”
“Absolutely not.” He blurted. YN frowned; He was being weird.
Was he actually upset about losing to her? In front of everyone?
Or was it something else… the manor, being back with his family. Something else entirely?
She wanted to curse his name until the end of time; If his face wasn’t so blank all the time— if he actually gave some sort of emotion — maybe they would get along better.
“Why not?”
Jason blanked, unable to form an excuse or explanation.
What was he supposed to say: ‘Sorry, I’ve been sort of watching you every time we’re in a room together and I don’t think I can handle being physically close to, and alone, with you for an extended amount of time’?
He didn’t see that going over too well.
She might even kill him.
He just needed to find his phone without setting her off.
“Because you’re on house arrest.” He finally answered. YN pushed herself up, sitting cross legged with her arms crossed over her chest.
“I’m allowed to leave with a chaperone.” She suggested, almost instantly.
YN observed his hurried movements; Moving pillows, shoving his hand between the sofa cushions. Pilfering the drawers of the coffee and end tables.
A chuckle came from deep in his chest.
“I’m not quite chaperone material, sweetheart.”
She swallowed, the air leaving her lungs. Another nickname.
While ‘Tails’ gave her a familial sense of warmth in her chest, this new one sent butterflies to her stomach. The pesky little insects causing riots in her belly— demanding to be released.
Luckily enough, she knew just how to squash those bugs before they caused any real damage.
That was all this was, anyhow. YN chalked it up to her mind, running rampant and spinning scenarios in her spare time. He had done her a favor, saved her life.
And for some, fucked up reason, his presence sent shivers along her spine. At first, she thought it was just a reminder; That he was present when she almost died. A traumatic response to a trigger.
But, the more she thought about it (because her mind, truly would not give it up, and kept slipping back against her will) the less uncomfortable she was.
And the more confused she became.
It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t nervous around him, so what was this… this? What was this? It was infuriating.
And him— Jason was being infuriating.
What was his deal?
He’s on her side one minute and the next he’s giving her the coldest shoulder this side of Antarctica.
“I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks.” She reasoned.
“Lies. You went with Steph, Cass, and Barb to get your shit last week.” He argued.
“It’s not the same.”
Jason huffed a sigh, hanging his head.
She wasn’t budging. Of course she wasn’t.
Maybe he was over exaggerating this whole thing. Maybe he was just feeling weird about being in the manor again.
This whole thing would blow over soon, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.
He clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring.
Fuck, he was gonna regret this one.
“Not a single flicker of a flame and you wear your domino. At all times.” He instructed sternly.
YN let out an excited ‘yes!’ before scrambling to her feet. She bolted out of sight, presumably in pursuit of her mask and a change of outfit.
He rolled his eyes.
She really was going crazy in this place.
Strolling up the quiet drive, Jason removed his helmet, shaking his curls out from where they had been pressed to his head. His skin cried out in thanks, sweat cooling his heated skin. It collected on it forehead, where his domino sat.
The evening was winding down— the sun setting over his shoulder.
Muted laughter and conversation came from ahead of him. Sat on the porch were three women, gossiping and teasing one another.
“Good evening, ladies.” Jason smiled brightly, tossing his hair back and tucking his helmet beneath his arm.
Cristi glanced up at him, before standing to greet him.
“Thank god you’re here.” Robin cried, springing up from her seat on the steps. She leapt down and into his arms, hugging him tightly. “That noise has me on my last leg. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.”
Jason chuckled, amused, his hand resting lightly against her shoulder blades. Amanda laughed, her eyes rolling.
A chirping sound had started up at the beginning of the week; All six of the women had searched high and low for the origin of the noise, to no avail.
Not a smoke detector, or any other alarms in the house. Nothing seemed to be making it.
But still, it chirped.
“Dramatic, Robin. Just a touch dramatic.” Cristi teased.
Robin pulled herself off Jason, pouting at her friends.
“Oh, like it wasn’t driving you crazy, too!” She defended.
“Either way, I’m here to look at it. You can stop worrying over it— Prince Charming has arrived.” Jason bowed, playfully.
Cristi leaned over and smacked the back of his head. Jason scurried back, hand pressed to his new wound. A look of betrayal on his face.
“Yeah, right.” She beckoned him to follow, as she started up the steps. Then she stopped, one hand swinging back. “Oh, before I forget, Liv had that special customer again.”
Jason abandoned his helmet on the porch railing, rubbing his palms together eagerly.
Perfect; Just what he was looking for. Information from a council member.
That should keep him busy for a few days, at least.
“She get anything?”
“Besides an STD? I swear, that man has everything on God’s green earth.” Amanda leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, hip jutted out.
Jason frowned, hands falling to his hips.
He hated that these women felt this was the easiest option for cash; He hated that it was the easiest cash flow.
But it was their decision. He would do what he could to make it easier.
“Hey, my information isn’t worth that. If you want him to stop—“
Robin shook him off.
“He pays good. There’s no way she’ll want him to stop comin’ round here.” She pointed out, shrugging. “He’s an easy fix, anyways. Only takes him a couple’a minutes.”
“Don’t forget to talk with her before you leave.” Cristi repeated.
Jason nodded, aware that there was no way he was forgetting anything, as long as Cristi was there reminding him.
The woman had the memory of an elephant.
YN rounded the corner, jamming her phone into her pocket.
Stephanie had kept her on the phone for too long— asking mildly strange questions and clarifying answers.
Then Dick had gotten on the line, and god, she thought of hanging up at least twelve times.
But then she would have missed the screaming match between the two.
Cristi laughed at a joke Robin cracked at Jason, leaving the boy’s face flushed (which wasn’t easy to do, considering the boy’s upbringing).
Movement at the end of the walkway caught her eye.
A familiar figure marching up behind them.
“Jason.” Cristi’s hand latched to his elbow, giving him a harsh tug. She stepped in front of his body, her own body rigid.
He turned, eyes landing on the perceived threat.
YN was making her way up the driveway, finished with her phone call.
“She’s a friendly.” Jason assured, smoothing a gloved hand over Cristi’s.
The woman scowled, surprise clear in her eyes as she whipped around to face him.
“A friendly? She tried to light me on fire.” She growled.
YN slowed to a stop at the porch steps, a halfhearted frown on her lips.
The woman who challenged her.
“I wasn’t lighting you on fire— just the lawn.” YN responded, easily. As if she hadn’t admitted to committing several acts of arson.
Jason clenched his jaw. He had nearly forgotten the whole incident had ever happened.
He’d been so wrapped up lately, his head hadn’t been on straight.
What the fuck was he thinking, bringing her here, of all places? Where a grudge was sure to stick around.
“I am an extension of this property.” Cristi snapped, arms crossing her chest.
YN gave a quiet noise of acknowledgement, dipping her head into a bow. Her hand sweeping to the side.
“Forgive me, your highness, for stepping on your face.” She spoke with an air of regality.
Cristi snarled, her fists clenching tightly. Preparing to storm down the steps and take care of the intruder herself.
Jason intervened— wedging his body in front of hers. She kept the scowl on her face as he forced her to back up.
“Okay— hostility.” He held his hand out, ensuring she wasn’t going to go through him to rip the other woman to shreds. “I’m here to fix the noise you were asking about. She’s just along for the ride.”
Cristi’s eyes narrowed, her distain palpable.
Jason steadied himself. Preparing for the worst. Cristi had practically raised him for a few years when he was small.
He knew anyone that attempted to harm her family would catch hell in a hand basket. He had seen her deck a guy for putting his hands on one of the girls in the house.
Her word was law, here.
“She has to stay outside.” Cristi decided.
Jason snickered. YN elbowed him, a scowl on her lips. She glanced up to see his teeth pressing into his bottom lip, forcing himself to stay quiet.
“Fine. I’ll stay on the porch.” Her hands fell to her thighs, head tilted.
“The sidewalk.”
YN grit her teeth. Cristi didn’t budge. She didn’t even have a smirk on her face. She wasn’t doing this to be a bitch— maybe a small piece of her was, but this was about regaining control.
YN had come onto her property, threatened her and her family, then lit the front lawn up.
So it wasn’t that far of a stretch to think the woman was just exercising her limits of control. To stretch them again. Push back against something that had scared her.
She could understand that.
“Fucking hell. Fine.” YN grumbled, retreating down the steps again.
Jason raised his brows, impressed by how easily YN had rolled over. Maybe he had misjudged her affinity for a fight.
Cristi didn’t wait another moment, shoving his shoulder roughly. He cried out in opposition, only for her to push him through the front door.
He stumbled over the threshold, and the other ladies who had greeted him all filed through behind him.
She slammed the door, huffing an exhale before spinning around to face Jason.
“What are you thinking? She tried to kill you.” Cristi scolded, smacking his chest.
Jason kept his hands out, held with his palms facing her. He wasn’t blocking her blows, just surrendering to her mothering.
“Only like, twice.” He reasoned. Cristi growled, her scowl somehow deepening. “Compared to the amount of times you people thought I was an intruder—“
“I didn’t know it was you!” Toni called from her seat in the kitchen.
Cristi shook her head, pacing a few steps before pushing a hand through her hair.
“She wanted you dead.” She stated, uncertainty on her features. “We’re just looking out for you, sugar. You’ve been our baby for so long.”
She knew Jason was softhearted, but not this much. This was a little excessive.
“We’ve worked through her issues with me.” He assured her. His hand was a heavy, put welcome, weight against her shoulder.
She sighed, her own hand coming up to press atop of his.
“Some people can’t be saved, Jason.”
“I don’t want to save her. I’m not tryna make her change. This is her choice.”
Cristi bit her lip, eyes searching his face. She wished he didn’t wear his domino in the house.
It was so much easier to read him when his eyes were showing.
“Be safe, sweetheart. And smart.” She squeezed his hand. Jason returned it.
“Ten four.”
YN sat, sulking on the sidewalk. Hands pressed to her cheeks, elbows on her knees. She didn’t mean to pout, but what else was there to do?
She supposed this was fair enough. She still wasn’t happy about it.
Jason emerged from the walkway thirty minutes later, helmet in hand. Blush on his face.
“Everything okay?” YN asked, practically jumping to her feet.
Jason shoved his helmet on, attempting to hide the raging warmth on his cheeks.
“Peachy.” He grouched, brushing past her.
YN ran to catch up, then kept her strides alongside him.
“What’s your problem?” She muttered.
‘She your girlfriend?’
‘No one is getting a girlfriend, chill out.’
‘Oh, god, Jason. You like this chick?’
‘You’ve got a thing for convicts, too, huh?’
‘Robin!’
“I don’t have a problem.” He threw a leg over his bike seat, the compression making the belly sink lower to the ground.
He braved his feet, pushing the kickstand off. YN didn’t budge, just standing beside him. Hands on her hips.
“You’ve been all cagey recently.” She confronted. Jason rolled his eyes, shoving his black helmet into her belly.
She grunted, forced to back up two steps.
“M’not.”
“Mmh— yeah. You are.”
Jason tapped her shin with his boot, urging her to hurry.
“Just shut up and get on.” He complained, starting the motor.
She opened her mouth again, only to have Jason rev the engine loudly. Effectively cutting off her words.
YN scowled, shoving the helmet over her head and clipping it tightly.
“Cagey.” She muttered, latching onto his waist as he sped away.
YN tossed herself into a booth seat of the diner.
Jason had decided he had to stop to get food, or else he was going to wither away in five minutes.
“Fucking drama queen.” She grumbled, angling herself to sit in the corner.
Of course, she guessed it was easier to tolerate Jason on a full stomach, rather than an empty one.
Jason emerged from the bathroom, finished with his business. He spotted YN sitting in a corner booth, her domino still covering her eyes.
“Hey, man,” Jason stared up at the blinking menu. The cashier didn’t flinch at the six foot something, broad shouldered vigilante standing before him. “Can I get two number fours, water on both?”
“That all?” He asked, the Gothamite drawl thick on his voice.
Jason confirmed, sliding cash over the counter. He waived off the change, and stood to the side waiting for his order.
While he had certain doubts about eating inside the diner, with only a domino to cover his identity, YN had brushed him off. Gesturing to the empty parking lot.
When he pointed to the quite obvious scars on his face, she scoffed and passed over a compact.
“Cover them up, then.”
He hated that she had an answer to everything— like a smartass.
“Here.” He deposited a basket of food in front of her, sliding his own across from her.
YN frowned, putting her phone down to the table. Her brow furrowed.
“I told you, you didn’t have to buy this.” She stated, moving her gaze to him as he crammed his body into the booth. The table shaking as he settled. “I thought you said you were going to the bathroom?”
“I thought I said zip it?” Jason extended his legs, accidentally bumping hers as he spread his thighs. Taking all the room he needed.
It looked comical; His large, bulking frame jammed into a booth, broad shoulders nearly twice the height of the seat’s back. His feet were beneath her seat, elbows propped against the table’s edge.
YN rolled her eyes, pulling her basket closer.
Jason dug directly into his own food, dispensing an absurd amount of ketchup onto the side. Dunking a piece of fried chicken several times before eating it.
She looked on, mildly repulsed, but forced herself to ignore him in favor of eating.
“You know, all of you Wayne guys are so difficult.” YN complained, sinking down into her side of the booth.
Jason grunted, swallowing his food. She mainly picked at the fries; Eating one every few seconds, instead of several at once.
“We get it from our father.”
YN snorted, shaking her head.
Even though none of them were blood relations, they all shared similar aspects. Just from time, being around each other for so long.
They weren’t the worst people to imitate, she supposed.
She could see Jason’s record time eating skills had definitely come from Bruce, as he had done the same handful of fries into his mouth.
And Damian’s grin, though rare, was a mirror image of Dick’s.
Tim and Damian fought just like Dick and Jason did. Bruce’s insomnia had been passed to at least two of the boys— and Cass, on bad nights.
Batman was taking after Tim in technology competence (slowly), the two of them influenced by Barbara. But Bruce, on the other hand, was not allowed to operate his own Twitter account.
They were all connected, so tightly knit that they were basically one person, but not, all at the same time.
The Wayne Manor was a confusing place at times.
It was no wonder they all started branching out, as soon as they could.
Like Dick…
“Why did Dick form the Titans?” YN asked, wiping her fingers on her napkin. Jason stopped, fries halfway to his mouth.
His heart slingshotted into his sternum, slamming against his ribs. A panicked rhythm setting up a tremor through his body.
“You aren’t thinking about that offer are you?” He demanded, lip curled.
“What’s it to you?” She muttered, her own features copying his expression.
He tossed the fries back to their place among the others, pressing both palms flat to the table top.
Everything pooled in his stomach. Leaving him uneasy and angry.
What did Dick do now? Had he been cornering her into talking about joining a team?
And why the hell was she even considering?
“Tails, you’re not joining their little boy band.” Jason stated, matter of factly.
YN felt heat rush to her face; Her nose stinging as she grit her teeth. Hastily looping reigns over the fire in her chest before it exploded.
He stared at her, from across the table; Chewing his food like he hadn’t said the most outrageous sentence to her. In her face.
What kind of delusion was this man living in?
“Oh, and you get to make these decisions for me?” She snarled, hands curling around the edge of the table.
Jason felt the air around him warm, exponentially. Heat was practically wavering around her body.
But he wasn’t backing down. Not on this conversation.
“I’m giving you advice.” He rephrased.
“Then format it differently. Because you don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.”
“Why not?”
The heat kicked up again— flaring to an intensity Jason guessed would be near supernova level.
He had to admit, he had started the conversation seriously, but then derailed it. Just to see her angry.
It happened so easily, most days. Just the slightest amount of pressure and she would snap.
Was it fun, or was it fun?
“Fuck you, why not.” YN snapped. Smoke rose from her hands. She was sure if she looked down, her print would be burned into the table, but that was the least of her concerns.
Not when Jason sat across from her— a smirk on his stupid face and even stupider words coming out of his mouth.
“You wouldn’t be a good fit for the Titans. Or the Justice League.” He finally explained.
“And you know this, how?”
Was she joking?
Most days she was homicidal, at best. Not to count her arson charges and property damages. He didn’t even want to know what Adrian had her doing. It certainly wasn’t making flower arrangements for his closest, criminal buddies.
To think she was Justice League material was laughable.
And with the Titans, well, he could only imagine how much of a disaster that would be.
The group was always in something, or another. Drama between themselves, a megalomaniac villain targeting them. And the uniform she would be wearing?
Would definitely not be to her taste.
Besides, those groups were pure bureaucratic bullshit. PR teams, tabloids, television. They were celebrities. Not vigilantes.
YN would suffocate.
Or kill a paparazzi.
Whichever opportunity came first.
“We’re more similar than you realize.” Jason told her, simplifying all the reasons his brain created into one truth. He knew her, because, for better or worse, he knew himself. He gestured to her half eaten meal. “Eat up. We should get back soon. Not only are you committing property damage, everyone’ll think I stole you.”
YN glanced down, eyes landing on the handprints she had scorched into the table top. She winced.
Oops.
“Would that be so terrible?” She teased, leaning her cheek against her fist.
“I can’t see any reason someone would steal you.” He determined, his knuckle rapping the table twice. “You’d be returned.”
“Comedian of the year, ladies and gentlemen.” YN’s palms splayed before her, gesturing to him.
Jason only gave a faux smile, letting it slide off his face as fast as it arrived.
YN sipped her drink, fingertips dragging through the condensation ring left on the table.
“I wasn’t gonna join them, anyways. Just curious.” YN mumbled, picking through her fries to find the right ones.
“About Dick?” He frowned, eyes roaming over her form. She had never expressed interest in him before. Not even a passing remark. “There’s nothing interesting about him.”
YN perked up, her eyes glittering.
Now this was getting interesting. She never specified Dick.
“Jealous, are we?” She asked, haughtily.
“Of Richard Grayson?” Jason scoffed. “Who’s the comedian now?”
He wasn’t jealous of Dick.
Not anymore, at least.
Besides, what was he supposedly jealous over? Her?
Jason nearly laughed in her face.
Who did she think she was?
He restrained himself, just barely. He didn’t want to explain why two vigilantes were sat in a restaurant booth, snacking, and suddenly the place goes up in flames.
He had poked the bear enough, for today, he supposed.
YN seemingly had the same idea, as she quieted down and finished her food.
Jason followed suit, using his mask to his aid as he watched her. He didn’t know where exactly she had gotten a new domino, unless she had multiple.
Her last one had been half burned away from her explosion in the warehouse.
He wondered if she had attempted that again. Surely not, as he hadn’t seen her in bad condition since. Maybe she had finally scared herself into a smidgeon of common sense.
Some part of his mind wanted to see how far she could push it. See how powerful her explosions could get. How far she could push her abilities.
But then the sight of her ragged body in his bathtub came rushing back into the forefront of his mind.
Then he couldn’t stop himself from thinking of how many times she might’ve gone through that level of pain in her childhood. Mastery of any ability was accompanied with blood shed.
And how many times she had gone through it alone.
Jason might’ve come into the whole YN-Adrian debacle on the tail end, but he knew it wasn’t much different than it had been the whole time.
When he tossed his napkin into the empty basket, YN took initiative and stood up. Taking both of their baskets and dumping them in the nearest trash can.
Jason held the door as she followed him out.
“Thanks for letting me tag along. I know I was being pushy.” YN said, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets.
“You were, but it’s understandable.” He nodded, elbowing her arm lightly. “Things will start loosening up soon. You’ve been a model prisoner.”
YN scowled, jamming her elbow into his ribs. He hissed, smacking the offending appendage away.
“How about I make you a model corpse?” She snapped.
Jason laughed— the sound echoing around the city. Night had begun to settle. Streetlights blinked to life in the parking lot.
“I don’t think I’ve introduced you to my grave yet.” He realized. YN slowed to a stop as they approached his bike.
Jason had roughly explained partial details of his untimely demise to her, before. She just hadn’t realized there would still be mementos handing around.
“It’s still there?”
“Where else would it go?” Jason asked, grinning. She groaned at his smirk, rolling her eyes behind her domino. He extended the motorcycle helmet, holding his own against his chest. “Safety first.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
~*~
"Zuko-"
"How could she say that?! It doesn't matter if I didn't show up?! I'm late one time and she's already iced me out!"
"Listen, Sugar Queen is just as tired and frustrated as you. And it doesn't help that fakey dragon was egging her on. Her questions sounded way too innocent. She totally saw us."
“Whatever. I don’t care.” Zuko snapped.
“Sounds like you do.”
“She’s being reckless! First blindly trusting this so called ‘hero’ then blowing me off after one stupid argument?! But I’m the jerk for being concern!”
“Zuko-“
“I said I’m fine!” He kicked over a trash can. “Whether Painted Lady like it or not, I'm going to expose that wanna be, spy, or whatever the ash she is before she hurts her! Or worse."
“You're too loud, Police Girl. I don't care if you're a vampire, you're still English. Have some manners.” ~Integra
I finished my Integra x Seras Playlist! tried to pick songs for female empowerment and love songs by LGBTQA+ artists. All vocals are by female or nb individuals.
Listen to “For Queen and Cockney” on Spotify
See below for lines from every song that I think exemplify the pairing.
Hard Out Here - Lily Allen
“Forget your balls and grow a pair of tits / its hard / its hard / its hard out here for a bitch”
Run the World (Girls) - Beyoncé
“My persuasion can build a nation / Endless power / with our love we can devour / You'll do anything for me”
Bring Night - Sia
“Bring night, bring the night on / Bring me the moon and stars and send away the sun, yeah / Bring night, bring the night on / Or maybe if I'm lucky I'll end up in your arms”
Enemy Fire - Bea Miller
“Come a little closer / you can be my soldier / keeping me safe from all who conspire / enemy fire”
On Your Side - The Veronicas
“Life isn't pretty, we all get a little wrecked sometimes”
Careful in the Dark - Julia Weldon
“Hopelessly drawn to the battle and the blood / But magnetically pulled to the taste of love / You feel so good
I could eat your heart / So just be careful in the dark”
Night Go Slow - Katy Shaw
“Doesn't the night go slow? When we are here alone”
Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie
“yeah, I’m sick o flooding soulmates / won’t be alone again / I can finally see, you’re as fucked up as me / so how do we win?”
Only a Girl - gia
“It's getting better / Nothing like two girls sticking together”
I Want Her - Blind Fury ft. Georgia Harris
“Forbidden love / My head's a mess, and I want her”
Closer - Tegan and Sara
“Here comes the spark before the dark, come a little closer”
Fight for It - Lucy Spraggan
“Don't tell me that you're gonna run away from it now / I'm gonna stand here and fight with you”
Stay Together - Noah Cyrus
“Nothing lasts forever / But wouldn't it be nice to stay together for the night?”
What’s It Gonna Be? - Shura
“If you got feelings for me / You just gotta speak honestly / If you let me down, let me down slow”
All I Want Is to Be Your Girl - Holly Miranda
“I wasn't looking for love but she found me / I got a lot of control when you're not around me”
She - Jen Foster
“She / Makes me feel nothing else matters / Not even what the world thinks of me”
So In Love - K.D. Lang
“I love with the night mysterious / the night when you first were there”
She Keeps Me Warm - Mary Lambert
“She says I smell like safety and home / I named both of her eyes forever and please don’t go”
¿Puede ser alguien tu cura pero también tu enfermedad? ¿Se puede necesitar a alguien con tanta intensidad al punto de que cada partícula de tu ser te implore por favor por esa persona y que al mismo tiempo, te ruegue que te alejes? No puedo dejar de ver en rojo, tanto es así que todos mis sentidos fueron contaminados por dicho color, tanto es así que perdí la noción de mi juicio, ya no sé qué está bien y qué mal, qué debo hacer y qué no. Me aterra sentirme tan confundido cuando hasta hace unos días atrás tenía las ideas claras, cada color estaba en su lugar y si bien aún había y hay mucho por resolver, sabía qué gamas no había que tocar.
Estoy furioso conmigo mismo porque puedo nombrar miles de razones por las que no debo siquiera traer el tono a mí, pero es como si a mi conciencia no le importara y simplemente hubiera tomado un pincel y se hubiera puesto a jugar con la pintura por alrededor de la casa. ¿Por qué no puedo sencillamente apagar el foco e irme? ¿Por qué después de todo el daño, me destruye el pensar que tengo que dejar al rojo en paz? ¿Por qué no puedo alejarme de lo que hace tan mal?
Creí haber amado a un rojo que podía arreglarlo cada que se desteñía, pero que terminó por borrar mi propio color. Sin embargo creo haberme equivocado.
Creo que estoy enamorado del fuego. Su luz es tan intensa e hiptonizante que no puedo dejar de observarlo, de enfocarme en él, su calor me invita a acercarme cada vez más, a admirarlo, a resguardarme en él. Y lo amo tanto que sabiendo que si entro en él ardería hasta morir, sigo queriendo estar allí.
Habiéndome dado cuenta de esto, ¿debería arrojarme a sus llamas o simplemente morir de frío? Si el fuego quema y el hielo también, ¿dónde debo ir?
—Isaías.
''I'm looking for some shelter from the belter skelter, just keep me away from all who conspire, enemy fire.''
Summary: There's a new kid in town, and she's got a city to usurp.
Pairing: Jason Todd × F. Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings:
AN: photos are from Pinterest
YN readjusted her position on the overstuffed suede couch. All of the furniture in the Manor felt stiff, unused. Supremely uncomfortable, despite what Bruce had probably paid for the items.
The Wayne Manor was an interesting conundrum, in of itself.
With its steep staircases and grand, sweeping halls it was all regal. And in opposition to the Gothic exterior, the interior was brightly lit. Floor to ceiling windows, various chandeliers hung brilliantly from the ceilings and sconces decorated the walls.
What was interesting was the mash of art and photography.
What seemed to be authentic, antique paintings. Various portraits of, what appeared to be the Wayne family. Young Bruce and his parents, all smiling and sitting comfortably together.
All around the mansion, there were framed photographs of various stages in the lives of the Wayne children.
Bruce was obviously proud of his children— and even those who weren’t adopted had several photos in their home.
And the animals…
They also had their place in the hall of photographs.
A dog, cat, cow, three goldfish, and a newly acquired pet lizard.
All Damian’s. The boy seemed to have a knack and a liking for the critters. They were all well behaved animals, as well; YN could at least acknowledge his diligence in training the beasts. Even if he didn’t quite trust her enough yet to let them be around her.
A screech down the hall jolted her from her reading. Various other loud noises joined in after the scream— the cacophony fortunately headed down the hallway, not in her own direction.
She had found refuge in the library, away from all the noise and people. Wayne Manor could barely be categorized as crowded, but sometimes it still felt like it.
Jason stepped out of his shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.
He had barely slept since his arrival and it was beginning to wreak havoc on his systems.
Memories he hadn’t thought of in years flooded him every night; Terrors and nightmares kept him awake, when his recurrent insomnia wasn’t on duty.
Every corner he turned in the Mansion reminded him of a time before.
Before the pain and hurt.
Before he was the creature he had become.
He blinked, realizing he had been standing in a haze. Unfocused eyes stared back at him in the mirror before they trailed down to the patchwork of his chest and abdomen.
He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding in aggravation.
He was going to lose his fucking mind in this place.
Jason managed to escape his room, fully dressed. He hadn’t the faintest idea of what he was supposed to do, now that he and YN were a package deal on house arrest.
YN…
Fuck, he hadn’t even checked in with her for days. He had been so strung out, his mind had begun slipping.
Ever since the training session he had sat in on, something sat at the base of his skull. A wriggling, nagging little thing.
Doubt.
He knew it had to be doubt.
It was persistent; Asking if he had done the right thing. If, perhaps STAR labs would’ve been a better choice.
Because Jason had done exactly what Bruce had done.
He made a decision for her. Without her even knowing about an option to consent to. He had made an attempt on her life, for God’s sake.
He hadn’t even stopped to think about the impact of that choice.
What if she had actually died?
Gangsters were notoriously untrustworthy.
Why the fuck had he put her life in the hands of some… guy?
Why the fuck had he gotten involved with her in the first place? She was plenty capable of handling herself.
Why the fuck had he ever thought he could be a friend to someone?
Jason Todd was a cancer.
And he couldn’t ruin her. YN was this… magnificent warmth. He was going to bleed her dry, until she was as cold as he was.
“Are you okay?” YN asked.
Jason blinked. He realized, with a start that he had been blindly wandering the hallways.
“What?” He asked, voice hoarse and strained. He had heard words, but they had been muted— as if underwater.
YN arched a brow, her head dipping lower to catch his eyes.
“You’ve been standing in the doorway for like five minutes.” She explained.
“M’fine.” He brushed her off, leaning against the doorframe. Attempting to be casual. It was increasingly difficult, considering his previous train of thought— that seemed to stick like gum on his shoe. “You been training?”
He nodded to the darkening mark around her eye. Evidence that someone could land a punch on her.
YN clicked her tongue, annoyance settling over her. She guessed he had heard about the training session from earlier, where she handed Duke’s ass to him and slammed Cass to the mats.
She hadn’t known to take it easy— they had told her to give it her all, to see what they were against. To make it fair, she hadn’t used any supernatural abilities, it had only been hand to hand.
But truthfully, Jason hadn’t spoken to any of his siblings yet.
He was simply being observant.
“You here to tell me I’m too violent?” She grumbled, sinking deeper into the sofa, trying to use her book to guard her face.
He sighed, pushing his weight back away from the doorframe.
“You’re too reckless. Sometimes violence is a means to an end, it’s easier and more effective.” Jason explained, moving further into the room. He stopped at the end on the couch, his knee brushing the bottom of her socked foot. “But being hostile and violent without a plan never ends well.”
“I plan stuff.” She grumbled, unhappily. He snorted.
“Not a good plan if it ends with improvise, or if you panic halfway through.”
“Jerk.”
Jason smirked.
Maybe he could bask in her warmth without leeching it. Maybe there was hope.
“What are you reading today, Tails?” He asked, attempting to peek through her fingers to the title.
YN dropped the book to her lap, her pen jotting down small words in the margin.
“Some idiot put these annotations in and they’re all wrong. Going through and correcting them.” She explained, finishing up her writing before picking the book back up.
Jason squinted, focusing in on the small swathe of book title he could read.
It looked familiar. Almost like…
He snapped forward, snatching the book out of her hands. She cried out in anger, confusion on her features.
“Those are my annotations.” Jason flipped through several pages. All the writing was in his neat penmanship, though now there was accompanying writing along side his. His was written in black ink, hers in purple.
Nearly all the purple contradicted the black, not to mention the question marks beside some of his words.
“Oh. You got them all wrong.” YN corrected, peeking over the top of the book.
Jason scowled, snapping it closed.
“That’s not possible. It was my own interpretation.” He argued.
YN shrugged, leaning back into the couch again.
“Your interpretation sucks.”
“You suck.”
“Your mom.”
Jason laughed, a haughty sound as he propped his hands on his hips.
“Jokes on you, my mom is dead.”
“What the fuck?”
Both Jason and YN’s heads snapped to the doorway, where the voice emanated from. Dick stood in blatant confusion at the predicament he arrived into.
YN leaned forward and snatched the book from his grasp, settling back into her place comfortably. A grin on her lips.
Jason frowned— both at her and his brother.
His eyes narrowed as he straightened his spine, his chest becoming more broad. Unconsciously, he leaned to the side, slightly; Just enough to begin blocking Dick’s view of YN.
“What do you want?” Jason groused.
Dick took the opportunity to step into the room further, as if he had been invited.
Jason clenched his fists.
In his visions of warmth, he had never imagined sharing. Much less with Grayson.
“I was going to ask YN if she had eaten dinner yet.” Dick offered, attempting to peek around the mountainous form of his brother.
Jason narrowed his eyes.
“What’s it to you?”
“Being friendly.” Dick shrugged.
“What for?”
“Why are you giving me the third degree?”
YN lifted a brow, her head tilting to see around Jason. The shit eating grin on Dick’s face told her enough.
Jason only bulked up; His chest and shoulders expanding. A sneer on his face.
“Was that a fucking pun— I’ll put a bullet in your ankle.”
YN heaved a dramatic sigh, slamming the book closed and leaving it on the table. She stood and stretched her shoulders out— arms rising above her head. Her shirt lifted, revealing her hips, where her pants were riding low.
Jason physically stopped himself from reaching out and pulling her shirt back down.
A violent shade of green tinged his sight, staking through his heart. Dissatisfied that Dick was able to bear witness.
YN didn’t seem to care that either were in the room with her.
“I’m already booked with Cass, Steph, and Barbara. Thanks anyway, Dick.” YN bumped Jason out of the way with her shoulder. He barely moved. “See you around, loser.”
She disappeared out of the doorway and almost instantly became untraceable. Jason didn’t know how she kept managing to do that— he was able to hear a mouse sneeze from two rooms over. Yet, he could never hear her footsteps or her heartbeat.
It was as infuriating as she was.
“Are they forming a girl group?” Dick asked, pointing after her. He frowned. “Dammit, why does she get accepted into girl’s nights and I don’t?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Bludhaven?” Jason asked, irritated by his brother’s increased presence. “Maybe have a job and shit?”
Dick frowned. He and Jason hadn’t been on the best of terms since the arrest went down. He couldn’t blame him for the betrayal he must have felt.
He did wish that Jason wasn’t such a vindictive personality.
That he would willingly sit and chat instead of keeping everything pent up until it exploded.
“I’m here for the weekend.” Dick answered, simply. He turned it on Jason, eyes wide and innocent. “Why are you still here?”
“I’m making sure you don’t talk YN into signing her soul over to you freaks.” Jason griped, hands shoved into his pockets and chin tilted up. Jaw clenched.
Dick’s brow furrowed.
“What?” He asked, meeting his brother’s sharp gaze. “The Titans— you heard that conversation?”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. What conversation? He had already tried recruiting her?
What the hell was his game?
“I don’t care what you’re trying to accomplish,” He started, his voice low enough to sound calm, but still threatening. “I don’t care if you think she could save all of Gotham City— or the tristate area, or the country. Stop with the hero shit.”
“What if it’s something she wants?” Dick countered, almost instantly. Jason’s jaw clenched tighter. He had just preached to himself about loosening that obsessive, possessive grip. Here he was: breaking it again. “You can’t force her to make a decision you like just because you’re in love with her.”
Oh…
Oh, no…
Fuck.
Fuck— what if Dick was right?
No; No, Dick was wrong. He didn’t love her. He barely even knew her. These past months had been acquaintanceship— strained friendship at best.
Dick was talking out of his league again.
“Shut the hell up.” Jason rumbled, his chest tingling with the building chaos.
“You can’t even admit it to yourself.” Dick scoffed, lips pulling into a deprecating, half smile.
“There’s nothing to admit.”
“You’ve frozen your heart for so long you can’t even thaw it if you wanted to.”
“I said, shut up!”
Jason lunged forward, wrapping his arm around Dick’s throat. He didn’t falter, however, and immediately clawed at his much larger brother’s arms. Managing to wriggle out of his grasp, Dick stumbled back.
His expression read shock. He knew that Jason had been repressing everything, but he didn’t know that he had been denying it existed.
To Jason’s credit, he had a tinge of regret in his eyes. Anger still clouded the bicolored irises, leaving his face creased with the violent streaks of rage.
But his hands started trembling.
He didn’t even think— he had just attacked.
He attacked his brother, again.
Jason backed away, nervousness beginning to settle in his bones. He cast one final glare in Dick’s direction.
“Stay away from her.” He warned, shoving past the eldest Wayne.
Dick tripped over his feet, the force of Jason’s push harsher than he had anticipated.
He was in for an extremely rude awakening, later; Dick unfortunately, knew the realization was going to be a bitch. And even though he was being a first class asshole recently, Jason would calm down after a few days.
He just needed to settle.
The dust needed to clear in his head before he could see his heart.
