Fandom/Characters: Batman Comics, Duke Thomas & Jay Thomas
Wordcount: 5621
Summary: Duke wakes up, and the world is perfect. Someone’s idea of perfect, at least. Or: Duke wakes up in Jay’s perfect world.
Warnings: suspected suicide attempt and probably an unrealistic portrayal of how a hospital would handle that (the suspicion is wrong, btw), a quick scene of a car crash, references to transphobia.
Notes: Written for @duketectivecomics’s Duke Week, Day 3: Free Day (yes I did decide to wholly ignore the meme theme to write a 5000+ word character study fic, bite me). You can read this on AO3 here!
///
For a second, he forgets what he is doing.
"Duke!" His mom shouts from the bathroom. "Have you seen my wig?"
It snaps back to reality. He's holding a knife and a hot piece of toast, and beside him, his dad's making coffee.
"You have like twelve!" he shouts back, hastily reaching for the butter. "Which one?"
"The nice one!"
"Oh, yeah, that narrows it down." He spares a glance at the clock. "Mom, you have three hours until work, and I have thirty minutes till school, figure it out yourself."
"Young man, don't you dare leave the room while I'm -"
And he runs out of the door, toast in his mouth like some kind of anime girl, his dad laughing loudly behind him. He needs to catch the bus -
Stops. He doesn't need to catch the bus. School is barely a five minute walk away. Dad told him once they'd specifically chosen the apartment for that reason.
A bit of honey drips onto his jacket, and he quickly angles his toast away from it. The streets of Gotham are never empty, except maybe at night, so it's already busy even though it's barely 8 AM. He forgot his hat when he left, and huddles into the fur lining of his coat. Of course, snow started falling as soon as he stepped outside, and little snowflakes stick to his hair. They disappear when they land on the ground, but that probably won't last.
He goes back inside.
"Remembered that you live five minutes from school?" Dad asks, bemused.
"Shut up."
"What'd you say?"
"Nothing."
"That's what I thought."
Duke rolls his eyes and goes to sit with his dad at the table. "Should I bother finishing my toast before helping mom find her wig, or will she kill me if I do that?"
"You're in luck, she already found it." Dad sips his coffee. "Any other important life facts you're forgetting?"
"I make one mistake -"
"What are you doing today?"
"Obviously -" he stops. Opens his mouth. Closes it again.
Dad grins. "That's what I thought. For your information, you and Jay are going to the mall to buy Christmas gifts."
Duke slams his face on the table and groans. "How did I forget that?"
His dad pats him on the shoulder. "We all have those days, kiddo."
"Don't call me that."
"I'm your father and I can call you what I want."
And for some reason, hearing those words almost makes him tear up. Duke swallows through the lump in his throat, and says, "I'm eating this toast and leaving."
When he steps out the door again, fifteen minutes later, the snow's falling harder, and there's already a thin white coating on the railing.
Luckily, this time, he didn't forget his hat.
///
Thankfully, the mall isn't busy, and it actually doesn't take long for him and Jay to find their presents. They almost walk past the McDonalds on their way back, look at each other, change their mind and go order.
"You know our parents will hate us for this, right?" Jay says, casually.
Duke snorts. "They let us go out alone, it's not like they didn't expect this."
"Hey!" Jay points at him with a fry. "You may be a baby, but I'm a grown adult. My parents don't 'let' me do anything."
Duke wants to reply, but his mind blanks. For a moment, it's like he short-circuits. Then he comes back online.
"So, how are you doing?" Jay asks. "Haven't seen you in a while."
Duke shakes his head. "Good, I think. I mean, same old, same old, you know?"
Jay smiles. "I'm glad to hear that."
///
He can't sleep. No real reason for it, seemingly, his brain just decided that it didn't want to function tonight. With nothing to do that won't wake up his parents, he just scrolls his phone.
It's quiet, like always, nothing really going on at night. For some reason, he keeps checking the news, as if any of the updates interest him. Just a bunch of rich people talk, some minor crimes. Gotham hasn't been real dangerous in years, not since the Joker was finally transferred to some high-tech prison out in another state, and the newspapers still haven't quite adjusted.
He looks out the window. The next apartment building is quite a ways over, but there's some poles sticking out. Though it's too dark for him to accurately gauge the distance, he could use those to swing over, he thinks. For a moment, he lets himself imagine it, jumping from pole to pole, knowing he'd die if he missed even one, and a smile slips onto his face.
A soft knock snaps him out of his thoughts. "Duke?" his mom's voice comes through the door. "Are you awake?"
Duke tip-toes out of bed to open the door, and there his mom stands, still in her cap and nightgown, leaning against his doorpost. "Mom? What are you doing up?"
"I'm supposed to meet a kid in two hours." She raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing up?"
He shrugs. "Couldn't sleep."
His mom studies him, using that analytic gaze he imagines she studies new kids with at work with, and asks, "Any reason why?"
"Not really. Just wasn't my day. Night, whatever."
"Ah." Her brow furrows. "How much did you sleep?"
"Dunno -"
"Don't know."
"Don't know. Five hours?"
She grimaces. "Are you feeling okay enough to go to school today?"
He does. Five hours of sleep is much less than he's used to, but for some reason, he barely feels it. "Sure."
His mom nods. "Good. Well, do you want to have breakfast with me?"
"Please."
The clock says it was already six. It'd been four when Duke woke up, and he hasn't checked the time since. Hard to believe he'd spent the entire time scrolling through Gotham Gazette headlines, but hey, stranger things had happened.
It is peaceful early in the morning. His mom puts water on for tea, and Duke listens to the soft whistling of the kettle as he looks outside. In the morning light, it is clear that he wouldn't ever be able to make the jump to the next building, not even if he used the poles.
It's weird that this disappoints him.
///
Duke stops in his tracks when he sees Jay waving at him.
"Jay?" Duke asks, confused. "What're you doing here?"
Students stream past them, eager to get away from school as fast as possible, glaring at Duke for stopping in the middle of the entrance. Jay grins. "Was in the neighbourhood and figured I'd ask if you wanted to get something to eat."
"You got the money for that?"
"Sure." He gestures at Duke to follow him, which he does, unblocking the entrance. "Didn't I tell you? I got a promotion at the Gazette."
Duke blinks. "Really?" He bumps Jay's shoulder. "That's great, dude!"
"It is!" Jay's eyes glow almost as much as his smile. "And it means I've got something extra to spend, even with Christmas coming up."
They go to a café they used to go to as kids. Duke remembers running underneath the tables as Jay tried to catch him, Aunt Jacky complaining while Uncle Mack and Duke's parents just laughed. But it's been years since he'd last gone, and he has to study the menu before ordering a hot chocolate and brownie.
"God," he says, swallowing a piece. "This is divine. Remind me why we don't go here more often?"
"No money," Jay replies easily.
"I don't care, I'll do the dishes for this, I'll make a deal with the manager."
Duke washes the brownie down with even more chocolate, in liquid form this time, and Jay asks him, "So, how's school?"
He grimaces. "Boring, mostly. I swear it's gotten worse in the past few weeks. I remember being able to get through a day without wanting to fall asleep, but I really can't tell you how."
"But you've been keeping your grades up? Have you gotten in any fights recently?"
"No, though God knows I've wanted to." Duke raises an eyebrow. "Hey, what's that 'recently' supposed to mean? The last time I got in a fight was three years ago!"
Jay's fork stops halfway to his mouth, a piece of cheesecake precariously balancing on the edge of it. "Huh," he says, not moving an inch. "I suppose it was."
"And what do you care about my grades, anyway?" Duke goes on. "It's not like you're my dad."
Jay puts the cheesecake down. "I guess not."
There's a weird edge to his tone, as if he's only halfway there. Then the waiter comes to ask if they want a refill, and Duke forgets all about it.
///
The Thomas family isn't large, but their apartment is small, so Christmas is always an affair. There's sounds of pans clanging and people talking coming from the kitchen, intermingling with The Grinch and Stella's excited screeches as Grandpa bounces her on his lap. Jay's next to him holding napkins and cutlery, following after him as he sets the plates down.
Uncle Mack and Aunt Jacky come out of the kitchen, carrying gravy and mashed potatoes, and Aunt Jacky smiles at him, and suddenly, it feels like a noose is constricting around his throat. He only barely manages to keep the rest of the plates from shattering.
"Are you okay?" Jay asks from behind him, a worried edge to his tone.
"Fine," he manages to force out. "Just need some air. Sorry."
He pushes past Jay, and as he leaves, he catches Uncle Mack walking to Jay, and nearly turns back around to - what? To what?
Why's he angry?
Shutting the bedroom door does next to nothing to shut out the noise, so he opens the window and sticks his head out of it. It's dark enough that he turns to the sky, half expecting to see the bat signal, but there hasn't been a need for that in years, has there? The uniquely Gotham smell of smog, garbage, and wet stone wafts through the air, and it feels comforting, familiar, but it does nothing to dampen the anger in his chest.
What's wrong with him?
///
Jay showed up at their doorstep, drenched in rain, clenching a half-zipped bag of clothes, and cried his eyes out on his mother's shoulder while his dad was in the other room, yelling so loud that Duke could hear every word.
"Your own child!" he screamed. "I don't give a shit what your 'beliefs' are, how could you do that to your own child!"
///
A hand lands on his shoulder, and Duke nearly throws himself out of the window.
"Hey, whoa," Jay pulls him back and steadies him. "You okay? What's going on?"
"Why are Aunt Jacky and Uncle Mack here?" Duke asks. "They were banned from Christmas ages ago."
Jay frowns. "What are you talking about?"
"Uh, they kicked you out?" Duke says slowly. "For being trans? It was a whole deal, super traumatic, mom recommended therapy but you never went?"
Jay looks at him like he's crazy. "Duke, I'm not trans."
Now it's Duke's turn to look at him like he's crazy. "Yes you are? I distinctly remember you being trans on numerous occasions, including but not limited to when you were buying me my first binder."
Jay looks so weirded out it's almost funny. "Why would you need a binder if you don't have breasts?"
"Yes I d-"
He doesn't.
It's - he's only just noticed. He doesn't have breasts. His body is completely different from what he remembers, and it's not - not unpleasant, but -
"Duke, unless this is your weird way of coming out, you're not trans."
"Yes I am," he snaps.
He remembers going to his first pride, the elation he felt when he got his first flag, helping younger kids at the GSA, getting into fights with the school about changing his name, getting into fights with social workers about changing his name - why did he have a social worker, did mom bring him to work -
"Duke, I think you're drunk."
"What? How would I even be -"
At that moment, he sways, and Jay barely manages to catch him.
"Someone must've spiked your drink," he hears him say, from far away. "Probably Grandpa, that's his idea of a joke. Maybe you should just sleep it off."
Before Duke can reply, he's asleep.
///
The teacher drones on and on about something or another, and all Duke can do is watch the seconds tick by on the clock before he's free again. Around him, his classmates are doing the same, and as one, they jump up when the bell rings.
Jay isn't there to come pick him up. He's been doing that more often, lately, which is kind of weird, but it's not like Duke minds. Still, it's nice to have some time for himself again.
He walks home on autopilot, thinking about the amount of chemistry homework he's got, debating whether it's worth ripping the answers from the internet or the glass groupchat, whether his parents would notice if he did that, if it'd come back to bite him during the test -
and he's not close to his house at all.
He blinks, and he's in a rich people neighbourhood, way, way too rich for him. The houses here are larger than his entire apartment block, and in the distance, he can even see Wayne Manor. Only now does he notice how much his feet hurt, and how much lower the sun has sunken. He must've walked half the city to get here.
Why on Earth did he go here?
///
"Any reason you're so late?"
Duke kicked off his shoes. "Walked to the wrong house."
Jay just continued to stare at him, arms folded.
"I'm serious!" Duke protested. "I've been going to Wayne Manor for a year now, is it so weird it'd be a habit by now?"
"What, you weren't picked up in a limousine?"
Duke shrugged. "I liked the walk."
///
"Jay wants to know if you're free tomorrow."
Mom sticks her head through his door, a phone in her hand. Duke groans from where he's buried himself into his arms, sitting over the three separate textbooks he's supposed to study before next week.
She chuckles. "I'll tell him that's a no."
///
"Have you been keeping up with your friends at school?"
Duke raises an eyebrow. They're sitting in the café, celebrating the end of the exams with even more chocolate than usual. "What are you, my mom?"
Jay rolls his eyes. "Can't a cousin be worried?"
Duke shrugs. "Honestly, we just don't... seem to click anymore? I don't know, I just don't feel the need to hang out with them. That said, no, a cousin can't be worried, dude, I already get more than enough of this from my parents. Lay off."
When it's time to leave, it occurs to Duke that Jay'd been quieter than usual.
///
His parents are driving, talking to each other in the front seat while Duke plays a game on his phone in the back. His mother laughs.
A car rams into their front, metal compressing, stopping just before it reaches Duke but easily catching his parents, and Duke has just enough time to think they're dea-
///
"Duke?" his mom leans into his room. "Sweetie, we need to talk."
His parents are standing in the doorway, with a weird expression Duke can't quite place.
Later, he figures it was a mixture of guilt and pride; guilt for leaving Duke, and pride for having landed their dream jobs, even if they took them far away from Gotham.
"We'll Skype," his dad promises, but it doesn't stop Duke from feeling oddly empty.
///
Life at Jay's isn't that different from life with his parents, at the end of the day. They have different habits, of course; his mom always insisted on a good breakfast, but Jay just grabs a banana and runs out the door. His dad liked reading, Jay prefers watching sports. But when it all comes down to it, he goes to the same school, and has roughly the same rules.
His parents' absence... it's not that it doesn't bother him, because it does, more than it, by all rights, should. They Skype daily, and they seem happy, and they'll come to visit him in a month or two. But every time he wakes up and finds himself in an unfamiliar bedroom, when he doesn't hear his dad's off-key singing in the bathroom and the smell of his mom's coffee, it's all he can do to stop himself from crying. There's a hole in his stomach, an emptiness he should find strange, but instead, it's weirdly familiar.
He goes through his days with a clawed out stomach and doesn't tell Jay about it, or anyone else, for the matter. He doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't even know how to explain it, and besides, Jay's so happy to care for Duke. Not that he's told him, but it's noticeable in the way Jay smiles more, comes home earlier from work, pats his shoulder, and pays attention to his grades. Caring for another suits him. He'll be a good father, one day.
But Duke still has his parents, and the scheduled Skype call feels more out of place than their absence, somehow. He clings to it like a dying man.
///
"What're you reading?" Jay asks one day, after he comes home.
Duke's upside down on the couch, casually flipping through a pamphlet. "A karate black belt gave a replacement-gym-class-thingy at school today," he says, scanning the dojo's opening times. "He said he could give us a discount if we wanted to come learn at his dojo."
"No," Jay snaps, and the ferocity with which he said it made Duke look up. Jay's shoulders are tense, the fist with which he's holding the grocery bags white-knuckled. His jaw's set tight, and there's an odd determination in his eyes. "You're not fighting."
"I mean, it's not like I'd be fighting for real," Duke argues. "Just seems fun to learn something new, you know."
"Absolutely not."
"But -"
"I said no!"
And that's the end of the conversation.
///
He watches the clock tick by, second by second, as the teacher drones on and on, and he doesn't catch a word of it. It all slips past him as if it isn't even there. Around him, his classmates watch the teacher, and even the ones least interested still seem like they're there.
Duke doesn't feel like he's there.
Twenty seconds have passed. Four hours until school ends.
///
The days pass by, one after another, always the same, and Duke lives them as if they're not real. It feels like he's an alien, watching everyone live their normal lives in their normal ways, listening to Jay tell him about the mundane problems at his job, hearing his classmates talk about their own childish issues. Duke knows he used to be one of them, the same way he knows he used to be a baby, born a little too early, but just like that, he cannot remember how that was, how it felt, or if he was even truly alive back then.
One evening, he doesn't know why, he starts looking up old news. Articles about the crimes the Riddler used to commit, the ones where Batman couldn't solve the riddle in time and had to resort to brute force to rescue the people involved. And he grabs a pen and paper, and he tries to solve it.
Before he knows it, Jay is knocking at his door, telling him he needs to get up and go to school.
He hasn't slept that night, and feels more alive than he has in ages.
///
It becomes an obsession, of sorts. Look up old riddles, solve them, and when he runs out of those, look up other crimes by the former Gotham villains, see if he can figure out an alternate way Batman could've solved them. He starts looking into the Robins; it's common knowledge there's been at least three, but the only shift anyone's been able to pin-point was the first, after a nearly-adult Robin was exchanged for a smaller one. So he tries to find the points when they switched.
He shifts through article upon article of Robin, looks at hundreds upon hundreds of pictures, keeps his theories in a little notebook, and in the margins of his schoolwork, and his head during dinner.
A part of him vaguely wonders if it's unhealthy, to think about old vigilantes so obsessively. But he only ever feels alive when he's trying to solve the mystery of the Robins, when he's researching the Rogues and figures out how one of their crimes could've been prevented, when he reads article upon article about Batman and wonders what it would've been like to soar across rooftops.
He doesn't tell Jay. He doesn't know why, but he feels like everything would fall apart if he did.
He's reading an old article on his phone while walking home, and only glancing up when he reaches a traffic light.
There's a girl in the crowd at the other end of the street. She has brown skin, short hair hidden underneath a cap, piercings on her face, and Duke drops his phone as he realizes he recognizes her.
"Izzy -" he shouts, before realizing there's no-one there, and he doesn't know an Izzy.
///
"Look," he said to Izzy. "I still think it's a really, really bad idea to introduce you to Jay."
"Why?" she asked, amused. "Afraid I'll embarrass you?"
"No, afraid he'll make the connection between me, you, and the Robin Collective."
"And if he did, would that be so bad?"
"Would make it a lot easier for him to guess that I'm the Signal."
Izzy rolled her eyes. "You worry too much." And knocked on the door with a smile.
///
The next apartment building is far away, but there's poles in the alley. Duke could probably jump it, if he tried.
His phone is broken; he can't remember why. He remembers that he used it to research something, but he can't remember what. Half his schoolwork has gone missing, which means he'll have to re-do all of it, and he'd kind of rather die.
Not literally. He really, really doesn't want to die.
It's difficult to explain that to Jay, at the hospital.
"Why the fuck would you jump out of the window!" Jay yells, raking a hand over his head. That's another difference between Jay and his parents: Jay actually swears. Duke grimaces.
"I just... wanted to try it," he says lamely. It's a horrible excuse, even to his own ears, and behind Jay, the doctor looks skeptical.
"Mr. Thomas, if you've been having suicidal urges, it's best to be honest about it," she advises, with a kind voice, tapping a pen on her clipboard. "You're exceedingly lucky to have escaped your fall with nothing but a broken ankle, and if a similar... accident happens, we'll have no choice but to put you on suicide watch."
"I'm not suicidal!" Duke protests. "I'm just..." He trails off.
"Just?" Jay asks. There's a wild edge to his voice - no, more than an edge. His voice is so wild it sounds more like he's snarling. His eyes are no better, wide and blown open, as if he's been doing drugs. But he hasn't - he's just worried, worried for Duke, and he's dealing with it by screaming. "Just what, Duke? What could possibly motivate you to pull this shit?"
"I -"
"You're going to die!" Jay cuts him off, his voice near hysterical. "You're going to die doing this! One day, you're not going to land the jump, and you're going to break your neck instead of your ankle! Or you'll get shot, or you'll get beaten to death, or you'll get caught in Joker gas just like -"
///
"- your parents!"
Duke stumbled back, clutching the table. "Don't you dare talk about my parents that way," he hissed.
"Am I wrong?" Jay asked, his voice rising. "You're running at those goddamn crazies, and at some point, you'll be running at the Joker, instead of away from him! What's to stop you from inhaling that gas, just like your parents?"
"You don't get to use them as an argument!" Duke's yelling too now. He'd tried to keep his cool, but he couldn't, not at this, not when Jay decided to bring his parents into it. "You don't get to use the fact that my fucking parents have gotten their minds so poisoned they can't think of anything but horror, can barely sleep, can't spout anything but venom, can't keep down the food they eat, as a goddamn argument!"
"I get to use whatever the hell I need to make you see that you're killing yourself!" Jay shouts back.
"If you'd just listen -"
"I'm done listening." Jay stalked past him, grabbing his coat from the hanger. "I need some air."
"There's an attack going on outside -"
"Well, then maybe you'll get what it feels like to see someone running towards their death"
///
He's home, and his ankle isn't broken, but he remembers it being. He remembers Jay yelling at the hospital. He remembers walking to Wayne Manor instead of his apartment, he remembers having a meltdown over being cis, and he remembers -
He sits down on the roof next to Jay.
"When did you figure it out?" Jay asks, not looking at him.
"Just now," Duke answers. "You?"
"A while ago." Jay leans back, turning his face towards the sun. Their apartment building isn't that high, but still, they can see past a good portion of the Gotham skyline. It stretches out towards the horizon, only interrupted by the occasional bird. "I know I should've said something. You don't need to lecture me."
"I wasn't going to." On the building across from them, a crow is nesting. It stares at Duke with beady eyes, before turning to feed its chicks. "I came in after you, you know."
Jay smiles faintly. "Yeah. I figured."
"We need to wake up."
Jay turns to face him. "Do we?" he asks. "We've been here so long, and we haven't died. We haven't lost anything. We could just... stay, couldn't we?"
But then, as if smelling something bad, Jay's face contorts. "Unless you feel like you have to fight the bad guy, like you," there's bitterness in his tone, "vigilantes do."
"The Dreamer's been defeated already," Duke replies, ignoring Jay's implications for now. "You were the only one we couldn't wake up from the outside."
"Then why leave?" Jay asks. The bitterness has faded from his tone, replaced with something almost pleading. "It's perfect, this life. I know it's not real, but what does it matter, at the end of the day, as long as we're happy?"
Duke sighs. He leans forward slightly, onto his knees. Pain returns to his ankle, and he's careful not to smash it into the building when he swings his legs off the ledge. "Do you know why I jumped out of the window, Jay?"
He rolls his eyes. "I'm assuming you saw a crime happening in the alley and didn't think."
"No. Nothing was happening. Nothing at all. That was the problem." He's sitting there, on the edge of an apartment building, and it might not be that tall, but it's tall enough to make him scared when he looks over the edge. He stares the the ground, and watches people walk in the city beneath him. "That was the problem. I was bored."
"You were bored?" Jay asks, incredulous. "That's it?"
"Have you ever been really, really bored?" Duke asks Jay, still looking down. "Not just not knowing what to do, or feeling aimless; that's normal. I mean, so bored that you start looking at scissors, because if you stabbed them through your hand, you'd have to go through the hospital, and at least that'd be something exciting?"
Duke turns to look at Jay, and finds him horrified, his eyes wide and his hand clamping the edge of the building. Duke smiles. "That's how I feel all the time, now."
Duke gestures to the city around them. "This world - it's your idea of perfect, not mine. Would my parents have gotten into a car crash if it was my dream?"
At that, Jay winces. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean - I don't know why that happened, I'd never want your parents to die. Not just because of - I love them, I really, really do."
"I know," Duke reassures him. "When you walked out the door into the Dreamer's attack, after we had that fight, there was a moment I wished he'd get you." He looks away. "We've all wished for things we didn't mean, even if it lasted only a split second."
Beneath them, a little girl races past a crowd of people to catch the hand of a woman, presumably her mom. "But the point stands; if this was my world, that never would've happened. I love you, Jay, and I appreciate what you've done for me, but if I had a choice, I'd be living with my parents, not you."
Jay shrinks in on himself, a little. "Yeah, I know."
"But that's not all." Duke continues. "You didn't listen when I tried to tell you why I was the Signal. It's because I can't be anything else, now."
The crow at the other building was done feeding her chicks, and flew up again, high above them all. Duke's gaze followed her. "Even if - when my parents get better, I'll keep being the Signal. It's not about duty. I want to help people, yeah, and I absolutely feel like I have a responsibility to do exactly that, because I can. Especially since I've gotten these powers."
Jay's brow furrows. "Powers?"
"I'm a meta," Duke answers. "I can control light, and shadow, now, too. Still trying to figure out how it all works, but, well, with great power comes great responsibility, doesn't it?" He shrugs. "But that's not the real reason I'm doing this."
"Then what is?"
And Duke turns to Jay, leaning away from the edge, and smiles. "Because I like it," he says. "Because I'm an adrenaline junkie. At this point, I've spent so much time escaping death at the last second, that going back to a normal life just wouldn't work." He gestures towards his ankle, now wrapped in a cast. "I think we've proven that, here."
"So I'm just supposed to - what?" Jay asks, balling his fists. "Accept that you're going to risk your life for fun, every morning?"
"You could help me," Duke offers. "I could let you in on the cases I'm working on, give you a comm. You can help Izzy and Riko with planning patrol routes and monitoring alarms, if you want. But, yes, at the end of the day, you're just going to have to accept that I'm going to risk my life, every day, not just because it's the right thing to do, but because I love doing it, and don't know what else I'd do."
Jay's fists stay balled, for a second, before he takes a deep breath, and releases them. "I never told you why I joined the military, did I?"
Duke blinks. "You didn't. Honestly, was kind of weird to see you become a bootlicker, all of a sudden."
"I was undercover," Jay replies, and Duke nearly falls of the building. A corner of Jay's mouth quirks up. "Surprise. Some colleagues at the Gazette had uncovered what they thought was the start of a giant military cover-up job for corruption and human rights violations, and they needed an inside man. I'm a good actor, a great one even, and the others couldn't lie for shit. So I was basically the only choice, and well," he shrugged, "it isn't like I could say 'fuck that, I don't care how corrupt the military is or how much people suffer because of it, I feel like having my own cozy life in Gotham', you know? So I went. And even when I heard about you, and your parents, I finished the job before coming back, because I realized it was just that important."
Duke stares at Jay, his mouth hanging open, but before he can get himself together, Jay continues. "So when I saw you in that superhero get up - my first thought was oh God, not him. I hated playing hero. I hated it so much, with every fiber of my being. And my job wasn't even that dangerous, all things considered, and you're so much younger - Duke, I can't loose you, I really can't."
"I know," Duke answers. He can't say anything else. "I know."
Jay's begging when he says, "Promise me you won't die."
Duke looks away. "I can't."
It's quiet, for a minute. The city has fallen silent. The people have disappeared. The streets are empty.
Then, Jay sighs, and stands up.
"I can't stop you, can I?" he asks. He sounds resigned, and his eyes are sad.
"No," Duke replies. "You can't."
"And you won't be happy otherwise?"
"No." And even if he could honestly give a different answer, he's not entirely sure he would.
Jay closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. "All right," he says. "All right."
The sky breaks down, piece by piece, and it eats the city as it goes, devouring it whole. The nest on the next building over disappears, and it's followed by the building.
Jay envelops him in a hug, and Duke leans his head on his shoulder.
