There are two Gothams. There is the Gotham City established by the Wayne, the Cobblepot, and the Elliot families and known for its high population density with an even higher crime rate. There is also the Gotham City conceived by the Court of Owls and continuously governed from the shadows by the mysterious parliament. Which one is the real Gotham?
Is the common or fantastical city real? For most cities, the truth exists somewhere between fact and myth. The line is blurred in Gotham City by its history with caped crusaders and capricious criminals. Making the distinction between misconception and truth is an arduous task.
When Jason Todd discovers that one of the city’s urban legends is more fact than myth, the local priest toes the line between worlds. Taking in the wounded Talon, the two begin an unusual living arrangement. Balancing a normal life with nursing an urban legend, Jason tries to maintain his normal life - whatever counts for normal in Gotham anyway.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: DCU
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Bat Family - Character
Additional Tags: Love Potion/Spell, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting
Summary:
When Grayson brings a guest to the Manor, Damian’s experiment causes some problems. Damian did not plan to create a love spell and deal with its affects this holiday.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: DCU
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Bat Family - Character
Series: Part 2 of A Series
Summary:
Bruce crossed someone’s final straw. Dick and Jason come to an agreement. These two events are most definitely related.
This is a continuation of A Proposal so it’s suggested to read that first.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: DCU
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson
Additional Tags: Animal Traits
Summary:
Jason ends up in an awkward situation. Dick rescues him without realizing it.
I’ll be doing the make up/extension week for Jaydick Week 3. If anyone wants to join me.
Fandom: DC
Warnings: Depictions of Anxiety and Dissociation.
Relationships: (eventual) JayDick
Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson
Tags: AU, Memory Loss, Talon!Dick, Priest!Jason
Ch. Word-count: ~3k
Synopsis: Jason Todd, an inner-city priest, discovers one of the Gotham City’s urban legends isn’t just a myth. Taking in the wounded Talon, Jason starts a strange living arrangement with one the city’s best hidden secrets.
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The whoosh of the shower head bled through the thin walls of his house. Looking away from his bathroom, Jason stared at the slowly dripping coffee machine. The brown fluid barely filled the bottom of the glass. Closing his eyes, Jason attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes. A close-up of Dick's face popped into his mind's eyes and Jason's eyes snapped open.
Was that real? Jason wondered as the distinct pressure of chapped lips ghosted his mouth.
Staring in forward, Jason watched the coffee tease him as it fell through the filter. Drip. Drip. Kneading his lips with a knuckle, he switched to running his fingers through his hair. Drip. Drip. He wasn't awake enough to think about this. Dick hadn't said anything so if it had happened, it didn't matter to Dick.
So it shouldn't matter to me, Jason concluded.
Stepping away from the counter, a new thought entered his mind, If it was a dream, then it doesn't mean anything.
Other than Dick's cute, his brain added, not-so-helpfully.
It wasn't a crime to think someone is attractive, tapping his fingers along the counter, he finished, It's not like I'm looking for something anyway. That, whatever it was, is meaningless.
Except being the busybody that he was, Jason's consciousness wouldn't stop there. A fraction of him rose up walking the perimeter of his conscious, gathering evidence. A defense attorney ready dismantle the opposition, a voice in his head listed off several points.
Even if it was a dream, why was it Dick? You said you wanted to get to know him better, was it in that way?
Jason stared at his coffee pot. He pretended he couldn't hear the argument his brain set up. He watched each drop with the intensify of an oracle foretelling the end of the world. Each drop of coffee seemed temporarily frozen in time as it teased Jason before joining the other drops in the bottom of the glass.
If you think you might be interest, shouldn't you tell him? You share a bed, after all.
Bed, he focused on that. Turning back time, Jason's mind conjured images of a trembling, breathless man with terror in his cloudy eyes. The half swallowed shouts and the curled in frame as if Dick was physically holding himself together as he badly hid his emotions.
Yanking the pot from the machine, Jason poured the hot liquid into a mug, his knuckles white where he griped the handle. He hastily blew on coffee. In the same breath, he angled the liquid into his mouth. He downed two mouthfuls nearly searing his tongue. The sudden caffeine hit his system like a truck, clearing up his thoughts.
Dick depends on me, Jason stated.
Dick was an adult, but he had amnesia. Jason felt responsible for Dick and he relied on Jason. Even if he wasn't following some self-imposed celibacy, considering Dick in that light was wrong. Dick needed someone to help him get back on his feet. That was it. Anything else was . . .
The hinges for the bathroom door squeaked open. Looking over his shoulder, Jason saw a ratty towel tangled around one of Dick's arms as he dried off his hair. His only pair of jeans were slung low on his hips. A form-fitting tee left very little to the imagination.
Turning his head, Jason took another long drink of his coffee. His mouth instantly regretted it as the full force of the beverage assaulted his taste buds. With his free hand, he searched his cabinet for creamer and sugar before draining half of his mug.
Jason filled his cup back to the brim, adding a tablespoon of cream and sugar. Actually up and running, Jason cleared up his counter. He sidestepped to his fridge, pulling out eggs, deli meats, tomatoes, bell peppers, cilantro, and other greens. Dumping them on his counter, he dug a whisk, pan, and oil out from under his counter. Turning on the flame, he set the pan atop before pulling a bowl from his cabinet.
On a cutting board, he quickly sliced the meat into small strips, then chopped his vegetables. Turning, he added oil to his pan. With a quick flick of his wrist, he spread the oil throughout the pan. Cracking three eggs into a small bowl, he whisked them haphazardly. A second later the eggs when into the pan. A minute after that went everything else.
He folded the omelet into a plate. Placing the plate on the table, he saw Dick open the fridge and pull out the nearly empty gallon of milk. Jason straightened out and playfully crossed his arms.
Jason teased, "I'm going to get offended one day that you prefer cereal over my home cooking."
Dick shrugged and commented, "It's easier to make."
Shaking his head, Jason divided his eggs with his fork. As he took the first bite, a knock sounded from his front door. Dick tensed, eying the door uneasily. Jason stood up and reluctantly headed to the door. Ignoring how his stomach complained about the meager amount of food that just entered it, Jason opened the door.
A man of approximately five feet eight broke out into a grin. He held out his head and pulled Jason into a welcoming hug. The other arm firmly patted Jason's bad. Patting Marcus's shoulder, Jason noticed the two men standing behind Marcus. Each gave Jason a curt nod.
"Good morning too, but I doubt this is a pleasure visit," Jason muttered as the man released him.
Stepping back, Jason nearly hit Dick who had appeared sometime between opening the door and now. Glancing back at Marcus, Jason angled his body for that Dick was in plain sight.
"Marcus, my guest, Dick," Jason introduced, "Dick my family friend Marcus."
"Nice to meet you," Marcus welcomed.
Marcus held out his hand. Dick took it and for a tense moment Jason saw them sizing each other up. Marcus puffed out his chest and squeezed firmly. Dick had a nonplus look and gave a curt nod in response to Marcus's greeting.
Releasing hands, Marcus stepped toward the other two men. Jason vaguely recognized them from the congregation, but never personally spoke to them. The three exchanged pointed looks.
"Son, has anything strange been happening?" Marcus addressed the elephant in the room.
They can't know about Dick, can they? Jason's mind blurted, paranoid.
Crossing his arms, Jason asked, "What do you mean?"
Marcus clarified, "The last few nights people reported strange people in the area."
Making eye contact with Dick, Jason raised a brow in a question. Dick tensed up. Jason picked up the dull sounds of fingers tapping on denim.
"No, I didn't notice anything, but I sleep fairly early," Jason answered.
"How about your friend there?" Marcus questioned, jerking his head in Dick's direction.
"I didn't see anything," Dick answered, his voice hoarse from disuse.
Marcus nodded and continued, "Well, we're starting up a night watch for the next week or so to calm people’s minds. Could you announce that at the next service? We're looking for volunteers."
"I'll leave a message for Bishop," Jason agreed.
Clapping his hands, Marcus smiled, "Now that we got that business outta of the way, do you mind if I speak to you in private?"
"We'll head off to the next house then," one of the two mumbled, taking the hint.
Jason suggested, "Dick you should finish your cereal before it gets soggy. I'll be in as soon as I'm done with Marcus."
Jason barely picked up Dick's shuffling steps into the house. Closing the door, Jason moved onto the pitiful strip that he called a porch. The dust brushed along his toes.
"Something wrong Marcus?" Jason inquired.
Watching the space behind Jason, Marcus questioned in a low voice, "Who's your friend?"
"What?"
"Your friend," Marcus repeated, "He appeared outta nowhere."
Straightening out to his full six feet two inches, Jason hissed, "Are you trying to suggest he's involved him something?"
I mean he does, but I'm the only one that should know that except the Court.
"No, no, mijo," Marcus protested, raising his hands up in defense.
"¿Cómo se dice...?" Marcus paused, "Jon said you brought clothes for him and he's been living with you..."
Marcus left the gaps for Jason to fill. Jason blinked processing the information. Jason face palmed. Dragging his hand down his face, Jason felt a wave of disappointment.
"Are you trying to ask if we're together?" Jason finally gasped, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"You know I won't judge if you were -"
Jason interrupted, "How much do you have us dating?"
"What?"
"Jon started another betting pool on whether I'm dating someone again, didn't he?" Jason concluded, "how much do you have on me dating Dick?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, mijo."
Crossing his arms, Jason stared at Marcos.
Marcos sighed, "I didn't bet on anything. Jon nagged me to ask you."
Rubbing his temple, Jason muttered, "I thought you were trying to get him to quit."
Marcos shrugged and stated, "You can get an ass to water, but . . ."
"That's a nice way of describing your husband," Jason chuckled.
"Well?" Marcus prompted.
Jason sighed, "Dick's fallen on some hard times and I'm helping back onto his feet."
Closing the space between them, Marcus offered, "You know I wouldn't say anything if it were -"
"Tío," Jason warned.
"Fine," Marcus retreated, "If you want to volunteer call me or the Neighborhood Watch. Be careful, Jason."
Massaging his temples, Jason took a moment to bat the ridiculous of the past five minutes out of his head. His stomach grumbled like an old miser. The silence gave his mind time to be nosy once more.
Whatever, whoever, Dick heard, others saw them. What if it's the Court of Owls? Jason's temple pulsed unhelpfully. What could Jason do? He was just a pastor off to one side in downtown Gotham. It's not like he had Batman on speed dial? Even if he did how would he begin to explain Dick?
Jason's stomach roared, ending that line of thought. Turning around, Jason entered his house. Mentally hitting the pause button, Jason promised to think about it after breakfast.
Switching between staring at his motorcycle and surveying Dick, Jason pulled on his red helmet. He rolled the spare, pink one his hands uneasily. The memory of a no-hands backseat rider tingled his nerves. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
Holding the helmet above Dick's hands, Jason growled, "No crazy stunts or you're walking home, understood?"
Dick tucked his chin in for a reluctant nod.
"Why would you let go in the first place?" Jason muttered softly to himself.
Dick answered, "It feels like flying."
Mounting the seat, Jason coughed, "Well, find your adrenaline rush somewhere else without getting me a ticket."
A moment later, Jason kicked off. The engine roared to life and they zipped down the street. At every stoplight and sign, Jason double checked that Dick's arms were where they belonged.
Squeezing between two vans, Jason waited for Dick to dismount the bike before following suit. A second later, he stored both helmets under the seat with a bit of Tetris-like arrangement. Zipping up his race jacket, Jason pointed at Jon's store with a jerk of his thumb.
A small bell went off as the door swung open. Jon glanced up from the corner. A wide grin broke across his face. His eyes jumped between Dick and Jason. He waved energetically at Jason.
Why does he look so happy - Jason wondered, oh right, he's a bet going.
"The books section is next Jon," Jason commented, "You should probably find a dictionary about three to four years old back there."
Dick nodded, veering off to the right. Jason kept forward until he came to a stop in front of the counter. Jon's face glowed. His eyes turned crescents as Jon waved at him.
"Jon stop betting on my love life," Jason hissed, cutting to the chase.
Jon mouth popped into an 'o'. In the next second, the 'o' became a straight line. Jon interlinked his hands and rested them on the counter.
"I have no idea why," Jon began.
Jason cut off Jon, "Marcus already told me."
"You know us old people love to gossip. If it wasn't me, it'd be someone else. I can cut you in on the bet," Jon started his pitch.
"You're asking a priest to gamble," Jason stated, tilting his head judgmentally.
"So are you?" Jon asked, ignoring Jason's criticism.
"No."
Before Jon could make another sound, Jason repeated, "No."
"When was the last time you let yourself have fun, Jason?"
Swallowing, Jason broke eye contact. Angling his head to the right, Jason saw Dick shifting through worn books. On the case perpendicular to him, a handful of bat-shaped boomerangs sat on the top shelf. Below it were other miscellaneous items: an empty canister of fear gas, a cat-shaped calling cat, and an arrow made of red metal.
An arrow made of red metal., face palming, Jason realized, I don't have Batman on speed dial, but Roy still exists.
"Do you mind if I duck out back to make a call?" Jason asked.
Lifting the counter door, Jon warned, "It's a mess back there."
Jon wasn't joshing. The narrow hall shrank from the boxes of odd items that lines the wall. Jason edged carefully forward until he made it to a slightly spacier backroom. The area had enough room for a small fold-out table, chair, TV, and a row of boxes lining the perimeter.
Dropping into the plastic chair, Jason pulled out his phone. He quickly scrolled through his contacts. It didn't take long. Jason had only a handful of contacts. Tapping his foot on the speckled linoleum flooring, Jason impatiently waited for the dial tone.
Mumbling appeared on the other side of the phone.
"Roy?" Jason double checked.
Roy stumbled over his words, "Jaybird, why - do you know what time it is? Six. Why'd you call me?"
"I need a favor," Jason began.
Pausing, he clarified, "From Arsenal, not Roy."
A mess of noises bled through: rustling sheets, creaking springs, and a panting Roy. Jason's foot continued to thump off on the flooring. A series of clamoring noises suggested that Roy dropped his cell.
"Alright, what's wrong?!" Roy essentially shouted into Jason's ear.
"You have connections with the Justice League, right?"
"Jason what happened?" Roy hissed.
"Answer the question."
"Yes, but why they fuck do you need the help of the entire fucking Justice League!"
"So you can talk to Batman? Without asking me for details, can you check if the Court of Owls is interested in the church off 5th and Wayne?"
Sounding exasperated, Roy sibilated, "Who the hell is the Court of Owls and why do you need Batman?"
"I said not to ask questions," Jason deflected.
How would I even begin that story? Hey Roy so I'm might be harboring essentially is what is Gotham's version of the Illuminati's black hand and they might want him back, Jason mocked himself.
"Are you in danger?" Roy asked after a long silence.
"Probably not."
I'm just a little priest. If the Court is real and wanted me dead, I'd be dead.
"I'll call Bats, but if anything happens, call the damn police."
"Thanks, Roy."
Swiping his phone, Jason stared at the blank screen. He was a minority priest in the bad part of town. What did he do to deserve to get involved in Gotham's weird and dark side.
Exhaling, Jason stood up. It wasn't productive to remind on that train of thought. Turning around, Jason shuffled toward the core of the store.
"Eek!"
Jason froze. If it hadn't been for the gasp, Jason would've assumed he ran into a stand. Angel pushed off the stacks of boxes. She brushed her coarse yellow locks away from her face.
"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, brushing off his shoulder.
Catching narrow fingers, Jason countered, "No it was my fault. I apologize for spooking you."
She pulled her arm away, peering up at Jason. She was a good head shorter than Jason. The circles under her eyes were moats of listlessness.
"Have you been having problems sleeping lately?" Jason asked, playing the caring priest card.
"No," she said under her breath.
Jason coaxed, "I am not here to judge, miss."
"It sounds like I'mma liar, but I saw the devil last night," she whispered as if the thought of it frightened her. She checked over her shoulder for good measure. Her eyes rimmed red with fear.
Plastering on his polite smile, Jason encouraged, "Perhaps if you talk about it, it'd make you feel better, Angel."
Flattening himself along the boxes, Jason gestured for her to seat at the chair. Her bloodshot eyes widened in surprise. Angel ducked her head, staring at the floor.
"I can't take up your free time like that, Father," she murmured.
Cupping her shoulder, Jason emphasized, "I'm offering my time. I would be glad to listen if it took some weight off your shoulders."
"It had curved, metal horns and red eyes the size of satellites," she spoke, half her words dipping into a voiceless fear, "and it had row of knives sticking outta its chest."
Angel hesitated, scanning the dark corners of the room. Jason waited, gesturing her to continue. Although the descriptor wasn't familiar, her demon sounded very much like one of Gotham's many masked criminals.
"I was settling down for the night when it landed in front of me. It didn't move like a human - too quiet," Angel vocalized, the words catching in her throat, "It turned and saw me. That's how I got a good look at its face. Before it got any closer, some others came down. I guess they heard me making some noise. It jumped straight onto the fire escape and disappeared."
Why does this sound familiar?
Inhaling, Jason inquired, "Did it wear armor on its shoulders and arms?"
Sniffling, she gasped, "How'd you know, Father? Did you see it too?"
Flipping over every itemon the counter, Jason searched wildly for his helmet. He stooped to check underthe counter. Jason walked the perimeter of the kitchen. Eying the entire space,Jason mentally dissected the kitchen. The messy array of newspaper clippingsand forgotten shirts didn't help the situation. Normally Jason would havegrabbed a spare from his supply.
"The one day I stayover at Grayson's it goes missing," Jason mumbled to himself.
Backtracking, Jasonentered avoided the haphazardly placed shirts, pants, and socks. Some daysJason wondered if Dick knew what a hamper was. It was also half the reasonJason never stayed over. Rapping the bedroom door with his knuckles, Jasonopened the door with his right hand.
Leaning on the frame,Jason asked, "Hey, have you seen the Red Hood helmet? Oh."
Dick's arms cupped it.His cheeks rested on the red polystyrene. His breathe formed a light fog overthe surface of the helmet. It almost looked as if he were kissing it.
A spring of envy andirritation bubbled up in his chest. Irrationally, Jason walked up to the bedand pulled the helmet from Dick's embrace. His fingers caught on the edge ofit, refusing to release it.
Jason carefully uncurledDick's calloused fingers. Instead his fingers were ensnared. Dick opened hiseyes, yanking Jason in his direction. Replacing the helmet, Jason found himselftrapped as Dick burrowed into him.
"This was your planwasn't it?" Jason hissed.
Dick responded with contentgibberish as he nuzzled Jason's cheeks.
All he had to do waspush Dick off and get up. Wriggling on the sheets, Jason felt himself sinkinginto the mattress with Dick nestling him. Swearing softly to himself, Jasonreleased his helmet. It rolled across the floor as Jason rolled into Dick.
Fandom: DC
Warnings: Depictions of Anxiety and Dissociation.
Relationships: (eventual) JayDick
Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson
Tags: AU, Memory Loss, Talon!Dick, Priest!Jason
Ch. Word-count: ~2.4
Synopsis: Jason Todd, an inner-city priest, discovers one of the Gotham City’s urban legends isn’t just a myth. Taking in the wounded Talon, Jason starts a strange living arrangement with one the city’s best hidden secrets.
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A/N: I am procrastinating for studying for an exam so here's a small update.
"For someone that said he never did one before, you're pretty good at tricks on the bar, but can you do a real back flip?" Gabriel half joked, half-challenged.
His bones buzzing with a pleasant, nostalgic yet familiar feeling. The lingering emotion from performing and teaching several flips on the chin-ups bars sent his mood through the sky like he'd discovered an atrophied limb was suddenly functioning at full force. His body hummed that he definitely could do a flip. Stepping away from Gabriel, he checked the firmness of the parched earth.
Kicking off the scraggy, yellowed grass, Dick went airborne, twisting 180 degrees. The world turned on its axis and then righted itself in Dick's eyes and he completed the half-twist. A grin broke across his face at Gabriel's wide-eyed look of awe. Excitement bubbled up in Dick's chest, an infectious euphoria. His feet sliced the air and the world became a blur of color. His feet flirted with the ground as he entered a back flip. Sticking his landing, phantom applause buzzed in his ears.
"Dude, dude!" Gabriel gasped, "that's fucking awesome. How'd you do that? Can you teach me?”
Dick body vibrated with energy. He searched his memory for how he did those flips and came out with zilch. His body instinctively knew what to do. It simply feel right.
"I can't. I have amnesia," Dick explained, tapping his fingers on his thighs.
"Amnesia?"
Drawing in a breath, Dick clarified, "Memory loss. I only clearly remember the last week or so."
Gabriel watched Dick. His mouth opening and closing several times until he just stared at Dick. A valley formed between his eyebrows.
"I know how to read and count, but nothing personal," Dick added, drumming a drawn-out, three beat tempo on his his thigh.
"Dude, that," Gabriel paused, "that just sucks. No memories at all?"
Running his fingers through his hair, Dick nodded his head. The knot in his chest slacked. The tension left his shoulders. A bemused laugh trickled out from his closed lips. His shoulders jumped and stiffed in secession as he suppressed his chuckle.
In response, Gabriel leaned back, eying Dick with a concern. His head turned at an angle. His cheeks went concave like he inhaled sharply. His stiff shoulders and wide, brown eyes questioned Dick: are you okay?
"It sucks," Dick repeated, "You're the first one to say it so straightforwardly."
Crossing his arms, Gabriel defended, "It does, does it?"
"Yeah, it does, Gabriel, no matter spin he puts on it," Dick trailed off. A particular priest popped into his head.
"He? Oh and it's Gabe. No one calls me Gabriel."
"Jason and doesn't he call you Gabriel?"
Gabriel raised an eyebrow, "He's a preach. That's different. And isn't it his job to see the silver lining?"
Gabe's eyes turned to saucers, his shoulder jerking up. His mouth formed silent words: Wait. He suddenly shook. From the garbled sounds escaping him, he bit down laugh. His fist covered his mouth, barely muffling his sudden delight. As Dick began to speak, Gabe gave up pretense and let out an echoing bark.
Emphasizing his words with his hands, Gabe asked, "Wait, wait. No memories. Man, does that mean you choose to be called Dick?"
Gabe again cracked up. His frame trembled from his amusement. When he finished, Gabe held onto his sides as if to physically stop his laughter. His lips white as he bite down to keep it together. He rotated his hand quickly to encourage Dick to speak.
"No. My parents named me Richard," Dick stated, "Richard, Dick."
"Thought you said you had amnesia," Gabe broke down the last word carefully.
"I do. I only remember bits and pieces here and there," Dick revealed, "Someone sort of recognized me."
"Okay. Because dude, if you picked Dick yourself, I was gonna guess your memory wasn't the only thing that you lost."
Observing the grinning teen, Dick was suddenly reminded that he was over twice the kid's age. His instinct told him that Dick was a common name when he was young. Dick watched Gabriel, waiting for his immature laughter to subside.
"If you know your name, why didn't you look for people that know you?"
"The article said my parents are dead," Dick answered.
His gut twisted, implying that Gabe's idea wasn't good. His emotions screamed anyone that knew he wasn't dead would be in danger. Straightening up, Dick quickly scanned the horizon. He relaxed when the strange presence that had grated on his senses didn't register.
"Oh, how'd you end up with Father Todd?" Gabe quickly tacked on, "if you don't mind me asking, y'all friends or . . .?"
What'd you call someone who offered you shelter and patience who wasn't part of your family? Dick questioned himself, What is our relationship? We aren't strangers, but what are we? Jason showed me a surprising level of consideration and I enjoy his existence. . .
"He found me blacked out near his house," Dick summarized.
"At least Father Todd found you and not some pimp or something."
"That's one way of looking at it," Dick confessed, "All I know is my name. Not who I was."
Or why Jason won't tell me I am. Or why someone watching me? at that thought, Dick recalled the thumping heartbeat only vanished after Dick left the church, Why am I telling Gabe this?
"Yeah, true. I meant at least you're not alone. A lot of people left to fend for their own, but Father Todd got your back," Gabe paused, "and I got you too."
Maybe that was it, Gabe's self-assured innocent and straightforwardness made Dick comfortable. Dick saw that Gabriel had no ulterior motives unlike Jason who despite his kindness had a hidden hand. Stepping forward, Dick picked up one of the ratty books that Gabe had taken: Gulliver's Travels.
Thumping through the pages to check his understanding Dick offered, "If you got my back, I got yours. I can help if you if you want."
"Seriously?"
Handing back the paperback, Dick nodded and expanded, "As much I know anyway."
"No, dude I'm a hopeless case any help is seriously needed."
"How about you, read one of these and mark wherever you're confused? And we can see what we can do from there," Dick suggested.
"Yeah, sure. When you free? Can you help me with English too?"
Dick thought of the off-white four walls and narrow halls that occupied the majority of his memory. And how claustrophobic his world would continue to be defined by Jason's home and actions, a suffocating level of dependence. Jason's voice played in his head reminding him that he should try to discover who he was now. A listless loomed in his mental horizon as he tried to imagine spending most of his hours indoors.
Glancing at the sky, Dick said, "I am free most days. I'll do my best."
Dick stilled. His ears picked up the crunch of grass. Feet moved toward Dick and Gabe. Turning ajar, he recognized a familiar tall figure.
"Isn't that Father Todd?"
Jason pulled a shirt over his head, tugging it flat along his stomach. Walking around the coffee table, Jason sat on the couch. For a moment, he watched Dick. His heart spiking slightly as he thought.
"It looks like you hit it off Gabriel," Jason commented, leaned into the abused cushions.
Dick nodded his head.
"Don't let your excitement keep you up tonight," Jason joked, pushing of the couch.
As he entered the hallway, Jason looked back and commented, "You're welcome to join me."
Dick closed his eyes. An odd sluggishness entered his system. Not weariness or exhaustion, the sensation to simply cease thinking and to enter homeostasis with the universe.
His chest tightened a blimp registered on his mental radar: the nearly unperceivable pulse of an unseen figure. Reserve vim flooded his system. Dick opened his eyes. Jumping up, he quickly entered the bedroom.
Jason glanced up from his covers. The bed groaned as he shifted closer to the wall. His feet nearly knocked the spare blanket and pillow off the bed.
Catching the pillow, Dick settled onto the floor. Dick's ears first tuned in on Jason's specific heartbeat: ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum. Inclining his head, distinguished the languid beat from Jason's leisurely one. It beat once for very three of Jason's. The tempo rattled around in Dick's brain as he tried to place its familiarity: where had he heard it before last night? The deliberate curt pace marched on. Da. Da. Da. Its slow beating seemed to be an afterthought. Blinking, Dick made out the sound of a second set of feet to his right. The soft scuffling settled into silent, but Dick determined that there were two people.
Jason turned over in the bed. Dick felt Jason's eyes drilling into him. Instead of Jason's normal andante, the tempo quickened. Dick watched the Jason fiddle with his cross. As if exhausted by his thoughts, he threw his head back and sighed.
"Are you okay? You've been pretty antsy since last night."
There's nothing he can do to stop it, Dick instincts told him.
His conscious reminded, Didn't you promise to try to trust him? Also don't you hate it when he keeps things from you?
Dick reported, "Someone's been watching us since yesterday. Two more people are watching us tonight, but I don't think they're with the first person."
"Well, if they're casing the place," Jason suggested, brushing his cross, "There's nothing worth taking. I can call the Neighborhood Watch if it'd make you feel better."
"No, it doesn't matter," Dick replied.
From the way these people moved, so silent that only their bodily functions gave away their presence, average people wouldn't even see them. His instincts added that if the Neighborhood Watch did find them, they might encounter trouble. It wasn't safe for normal people to meet whoever was stalking Dick and Jason.
"Okay."
"Aren't you going to ask me how I know this?"
Shrugging, Jason muttered, "I trust your judgment. Is there anything I can to do make you feel better?"
"No."
"I see. Since there's nothing we can do, how about you catch some sleep? Whatever they do, staying up won't make them do it faster."
Jason patted the open space next to him. Inching until he essentially hugged the wall, Jason cleared up as large a space as a grown man could on a twin bed. He pulled the blankets up to his chest and gestured for Dick to join him in the Sandman's realm.
Dick knew why he enjoyed sleeping next to Jason, but wondered why the other allowed the normally private action. He should've questioned it sooner, but the previous times he needed someone there with him. That logic didn't work the other way around.
"Do you always share a bed with your guests?" Dick inquired.
Dick considered, Is what he considers intimate different?
"The only ones who've regularly slept over are you, Lian, and that bum, Roy. But no it doesn't bother me much, if I let someone stay over, I comfortable enough to share a bed if they're fine with it. To be honest, my couch is a p-o-s," Jason admitted.
He paused and muttered, "I probably should get a sleeping bag or futon for guests or a bigger bed if you continue staying here."
Standing up, Dick placed his pillow on the right side. He leaned on the bed. Ignoring the slight anxiety the outsiders' presence caused him, Dick closed his eyes.
Opening his eyes, Dick saw Jason's lazily curled arm in his periphery, embracing Dick. His jaw lined up with the bridge of Dick's nose. His fingers rested on his shoulder. Realizing his own hand wrapped around Jason's waist, Dick pulled his arm away. He edged back with his arm.
His movement woke his other appendages. Nature called. A dull pain radiated from his nether regions. Peeling off the blanket, Dick shrugged off Jason's embrace. Jason's arm tightened around him. Not tightly enough to physically stop Dick, but the movement still stalled Dick. He didn't wake up Jason did he?
Angling his head, Dick watched Jason's eyes flutter half-open. He muttered gibberish and leaned closer to Dick. Their lips brushed. Jason on pulled away. He rubbed Dick’s head. Suddenly his arm released Dick. He squirmed on the bed, burying himself in the pillow and sheets. He instantaneously fell back asleep.
A small part of Dick wondered what Jason had dreamt of. Another wondered, if his stance on bed-sharing was rather lax, was his stance on kissing similar? Despite his occupation, Jason seemed like a rather devil-may-care personality. Kissing someone casually didn't seem out-of-character for him.
Before Dick considered how he felt about the kiss, his bladder doubled down and did the sensational equivalent of screaming. It threw a temper tantrum, demanding Dick immediately head to the toilet or relieve himself in the bed. Dick rolled out of bed. He darted to the bathroom.
When he came back to the room, Jason stared at Dick, blinking his eyes rapidly. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. His face contorted, twisting with intense concentration. He sighed and stepped off of his bed.
"I'm gonna make some coffee an eggs, you want any?" Jason asked, his voice husky from sleep.
"I'll shower first," Dick answered.
The two men danced around another, sidestepping to avoid collision. As Dick knelt to open the drawer that Jason cleaned out for him, Jason cleared his voice. Dick looked up, resting his fingers on the soft cotton of a pair of pajama bottoms.
"I didn't do anything weird, did I?" Jason asked, rubbing the back of his head.
Dick shook his head.
"Wait," Dick called out.
"Yes?" Jason's voice jumped half an octave. His gaze swung from Dick's jaw up to his eyes.
"Do you know where I can get a cheap dictionary? I promised to help Gabe with his reading," Dick muttered, tapping on the drawer.
"Jon probably has some. I can take you after breakfast if you want."
"Thank you."
Jason gave Dick a thumps up. Dick turned his attention back to the drawer filled with his meager array of clothes. As Dick exchanged the bottoms for a pair of yoga pants, he heard Jason shuffle away, muttering under his breath: Did I imagine that?
Fandom: DC
Warnings: Depictions of Anxiety and Dissociation.
Relationships: (eventual) JayDick
Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson
Tags: AU, Memory Loss, Talon!Dick, Priest!Jason
Ch. Word-count: ~3,600
Synopsis: Jason Todd, an inner-city priest, discovers one of the Gotham City’s urban legends isn’t just a myth. Taking in the wounded Talon, Jason starts a strange living arrangement with one the city’s best hidden secrets.
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Jason hesitated as he entered the room. Dick sat eerily still, leaning on his dresser. A pillow sandwiched between his back and the handles of the drawers. He held his head at an angle to face the window. Turning for a second to scan Jason, his head just as quickly returned to its one-quarter position.
"You know, you're welcome to head to bed first," Jason commented, maneuvering the tight space to his bed.
Dick glanced at him, his sky colored eyes clouded with an emotion Jason couldn't read. His chest rose and fell in a laborious breath. In a half-whisper, he stated, "I'm not tired."
"Okay. Don't stay up too late," Jason replied, edging toward the wall.
He closed his eyes. Flipping over, his arm flung wide and hit the springs of his bed to bounce up before resting on the cold bed. Instinctively, he pulled his arm close to his body. Shielding his arm away from the cold. His brain told him something was off. He touched the other side of his bed.
He touched the bed - what was wrong was that? The sheets crinkled under his palms. An unwelcomed chill crept up his fingers. Reaching farther out, his hand met air. Not that that surprised him. His narrow twin bed barely fit his feet if he curled up into a ball. Jason opened his eyes a crack. The space next to him was empty.
A light bulb went off in Jason's head. There was a Dick sized gap beside him. Scanning the darkness, he inhaled sharply. In the dim light, Dick's dull pallor and unmoving body matched the liveliness of a cadaver. In his mind's eye, Jason saw bloodshot, glassy brown eyes watching him from the shadows, his mother's eyes.
If he watched carefully, he could see the slight rise and fall of Dick's chest. As if responding to Jason's internal concern, Dick turned to Jason and opened his eyes. Jason's mind compared the clear blue to the dull brown that haunted Jason's nightmares along with sickly green skin. Dick's spheres had a light to them, an intensity, that the eyes that watched Jason from his nightmares didn't.
Dick's eyes darted from Jason to the window. His inclined head made it seem like he was listening to something off in the distance. Jason swallowed as still figure in front of him reminded him of a deathly still form his youth except this was upright and wrapped in blankets. Looking again, Dick's still but alert figure was nothing like her stiff lifelessness he'd once seen as a child. He was charged, a tightly wound spring, where she was petrified, an abandon doll.
Pushing up on his forearms, Jason stretched to drag his cellphone off his dresser. The luminous numbers read 5:45 AM. Widening his eyes, he stared at Dick who stared trance-like at horizon. He checked the time again. Rubbing his face, Jason flipped onto his back. Blinking slowly, he did some important calculations. Morning service began at eight but he had to finish setting up by seven. Jason questioned himself, Would I wake up if I when back to sleep?
His eyes said yes, but his experience told him no. He instead continued observing Dick, whose pallor was strangely pale in the glow of the cellphone back light. The skin darkened under his eyes and tightened around his the edge of neck. The branching veins and scars stood out against this skin. It'd be a while since Jason had seem them, perhaps a listless night had made them more prominent against Dick's earth tones.
Jason glanced at his phone which now read 6:05. With a sigh, Jason wriggled into a sitting position. The brisk morning air encouraged him to pull his blankets to his chest. Clearing his voice, Jason asked, "Did you sleep at all?"
Dick flicked his head slightly to observe Jason. In the same movement, he shook his head. He finished the action by arcing his neck to face the window. He watched something out of Jason's line of sight.
Jason blinked slowly. His past overlapped with the presence with the present scene. He saw a skinny teen with a shock of red hair staring off into the distance. Jason swallowed when he thought of the hollow eyes that would stare back some days, on the bad days. Jason recognized that solitary figure in Dick's sentinel-like posture.
"Do you want to talk 'bout?" Jason asked. A yawn interrupted his words.
Dick's blue spheres darted from the window to Jason's face and back in a nearly unperceivable tilt of his head. Jason waited, stretching his arms above his head. Then, he arched his back to chase the sleep from his limbs. He shifted perpendicular to his bed, planting his feet last quarter of unoccupied flooring.
Jason added, "You don't have to talk to me, but don't make a habit of staying up nights."
"I don't think intended me to sleep as much as a person," Dick muttered.
They, Jason questioned, banishing the thought at the drumming of Dick's fingers.
Jason directed, "Well, people have more than just material needs. You're welcome to take the bed. I have to prepare for today."
He stood up. Vertigo sent him off to the left. Before he could react, a freezing hand tugged his arm. The sudden change in inertia sent him straight into Dick's arms. The approximately five foot eight man supported Jason's weight easily, barely rocking as Jason's full weight slammed into him.
Jason's mind slowly processed his current position. Griping Dick's shoulder for support, he straightened up. He inhaled deeply, blinking as the dizziness left his system. Through the tips of his fingers, Jason felt Dick's sluggish heart jump a few beats before settling into its default march.
Releasing his hold, Jason chuckled, "Good thing you caught me. A priest walking around with a bruise on his face isn't the best image."
Dick watched the space above Jason, following something Jason couldn't see. Lowering his gaze to meet Jason's eyes, his brow knitted up. The sky-colored orbs jumped to Jason's waist. His brow rose, forming a high arch.
"Don't you have to get ready soon?" Dick asked.
Following Dick's light of sight to the glowing cellphone, Jason read the time: 6:21. The air left Jason's lungs in an exasperated hiss. Jogging to his closet, he pulled off his pressed slacks and collared shirt. Then he sprinted into the bathroom. The only thought in his head was the repeated line: Fuck.
He mentally planned, Five minute shower. Five minutes to dress. Drink water. Run to the church and let the others in. Finish setting up by seven. Remember which - Wait! First the toilet.
◈ ◈ ◈
"Wait," Dick called out to Jason as he exited the bathroom, "I'll go with you."
Stilling, Jason turned to watch Dick button up a light blue collared shirt. While Jason was in the shower, it seemed like Dick had dressed himself. The collared shirt and dark pants combination certainly wasn't Sunday morning attire, but it stood levels above the yoga pants and form hugging tees he usually wore. Jason's church couldn't call itself the traditional in any case.
"First service doesn't start until 8:00 and second service starts at 10:30 you know," Jason pointed out.
Undoing the uppermost button, Dick nodded.
"Whatever floats your boat," Jason responded, shrugging.
Digging around in his pockets, he fished out his wristwatch. The scratched up timepiece read 6:35. He wrapped it around his wrist and then marched out in the direction of his church. He almost forgot Dick until he paused to insert his key into the backdoor. From his periphery he noticed a shadow barely out of sync with his own.
As Jason entered the wide space, Dick slipped in behind him. Jason paused, turning on all the lights. Giving the space a cursory glance, he walked his right. Following the wall, he stopped in front of a small door, the supply closet, and grabbed a broom and dustpan. Jason gestured for Dick too sit and stay of his way.
Jason didn't have to arrive so early or sweep, but these had been built into his ritual now. The process of gathering and clearing up all accumulated dust and litter relaxed him. Something to focus on other than the fact he was about to speak in front of a group of sixty to seventy people not once but twice today. It also reminded him of the days he'd watch Jer's specific tendency to march the pews a thousand times, tidying up. He'd wake up long before anyone would arrive and analyze the aisles endlessly until a parishioner arrived.
Putting away the dustpan and broom, Jason surveyed the area. His eyes lingered on Dick who near the main door, opposite the podium. Dick's gaze scan the empty room. Biting his lip, Jason wondered, Why's he so. . .
The word escaped Jason. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something felt off about Dick since yesterday's service. This morning clinched it. Dick stood too straight. His face too expressionless. He appeared more statue than man. Inhaling, Jason realized he hadn't seen Dick take a breathe in last few minutes. A light bulb went off in Jason's mind. Jason saw the wounded person he'd discovered last Sunday: the distrusting, paranoid, skittish Dick. The stiffness of Dick's posture was akin to a coil stretched out to its limit and ready to snap from the tension.
Concerned, Jason stepped toward Dick. He blinked as the doors of the church pushed open. Abuela's shawl pinned shoulders peeked in the door followed by a few other early birds mostly elderly. He drew in a careful breath and relaxed his face. He reorganized his expression into a small smile. Continuing to the door, Jason held it open for those still entering.
Watching Dick from his periphery, Jason welcomed the church-goers. He'd lost the moment to speak to Dick. He made a mental note to talk to Dick when they got home. Normally, service went by in a flash. Today it felt longer. Jason walked along the front row, speaking from memory. Jason fixed his attention on Dick as he spoke. As he turned and walked the width of the church, he kept Dick's figure in his periphery.
As he spoke, he noticed the door open a crack and a small crouched figure enter. A teen around Jason's height took the space next to Dick. When Jason turned back, he saw the teen, Gabriel Jason thought, lean down to whisper something to Dick who shook his head in return. Gabriel pinned his arms over his chest. His brow furrowed as he glanced up at Jason. He muttered something to Dick again. For the first time during the service, Dick shifted away from the front.
When he finished the service with a joint pray, Jason waited exactly two minutes for people to be gain leaving. Curiosity then motivated Jason to briskly walk pass all the congregation to Dick and Gabriel in the back. People had different reactions to a priest heading straight in their direction: some greeted him openly, some gained a look of sheepish guilt, and some widened their eyes like they had been called to the principal's office. This is the first time he'd seen someone flinch and search for a hiding spot.
Backed literally to a wall, Gabriel stared at Jason fearfully. Jason blinked. Arranging his mouth into a polite smile, he slowly closed the space between Gabriel and him. Ignoring how the teen flinched, Jason angled himself to face Dick.
"Are you tired of listening to my voice yet, Dick?" Jason asked, his tone more playful than usual in his clergy attire.
Shifting to face Gabriel, Jason opened his mouth. Before a single word left his lips, a battered book was shoved in his face. Jason blinked taking in the worn black cover and a gold lettering. It took a moment for Jason to read Holy Bible emblazoned across the paperback sized tome. His church owned a stack like this for Scripture readings and Sunday school.
"I'm sorry," sputtered Gabriel.
Taking the book from the teen's square hands, Jason paused. He gave the tome a cursory glance. Opening the cover, he read the label pressed into the back of it: Property of. . . He took in Gabriel's nervous expression from the corner of his eyes. Carefully deliberating his words, Jason took a deep breathe. He closed the book.
"I am not angry," Jason started, holding up the tome, "but why did you take this?"
Gabriel ducked his head, staring at the ground. The teen's shoulders turned in and his spine leaned forward. His hands entered his pockets. Despite his six foot frame, Gabriel felt no bigger than a mouse. To give Gabriel, Jason stepped back. Before moving, He glanced behind himself to ensure that the space was clear. Except for a few stragglers and the handful of volunteers, the church only held the trio.
"I [------] to [-----] how to [----]," Gabriel muttered.
Having missed half the words, Jason asked, "What?"
Jerking his head up, Gabriel quickly explained, "It's dumb, but I took it 'cuz couldn't catch all you said last service but the story sounded interesting. I shouldn't've taken it. Dumb of me to take it, I can't even read good. I'm so -"
Jason held up the Bible, gesturing for Gabriel to stop. Reaching for the teen's hands, Jason placed the book into Gabriel's hands, closing the square hands over the book. A skinny boy crouched over a book reading with the flickering light of a nearby street lamp flashed through Jason's head.
"It's yours," Jason stated, empathy welting up in his chest.
Gabriel's mouth dropped. His eyes jumped from the cover of the Bible to Jason's face and back several times. His shoulder collapsed into his body once more. His left cheek went concave. His lip curled in as he chewed it. He shifted the book uneasily between his palms.
"I can't read very good," Gabriel responded.
Jason supplemented, "Well, you can learn and if the Book can help you, then it serves as good a purpose as it did here."
"No one to teach me."
Jason blinked. Dropping his voice, he questioned, "Gabriel, are you not in high school?"
Abruptly, Gabriel diverted his gaze. His eyes darted away every time Jason made an attempt to make eye contact. Skimming his plain dress shirt and jeans, Jason noticed the worn out, patchy nature of Gabriel's clothes. The rough scent of cheap, store-brand soap jogged Jason's memory of stripping down in a public restroom to rub dollar store body wash until he could see his skin for the first time in days.
Swallowing, Jason offered, "Everything you tell me is between us and God."
Peeking at the silent Dick, Jason joked, "And that Dick."
Gabriel chuckled, "Can priest say things like that?"
Making a show of looking around, Jason answered, "Am I on fire?"
"Gabriel, you can talk to me," Jason added, dropping his tone, "I swear I won't share anything without your permission. And I think Dick would leave if we asked."
"He," Gabriel paused, "can stay. I try to go to school. Make it most of the time, but I can't keep up between work and finding food."
Gabriel lifted the book and pushed it toward Jason. He declared, "I don't deserve this, can't understand half the words, anyway."
"I see," Jason vocalized, deliberately placing his words, "I disagree. You will never learn to read well if you don't practice. Actually, think we have a few books in the donation bin you can take."
"Why?" Gabriel replied, the word echoing in his chest with surprise.
Arranging his thoughts carefully, Jason answered, "I remember how rough it can get."
"You..." Gabriel's voice trailed off.
Jason supplied, "I didn't always have a roof over my head."
"I stole it."
Do you regret taking it?" Jason asked and continued after Gabriel's nod, "If you're repenting, then punishing you for it will unnecessary double jeopardy. It'd only hurt your desire to learn."
"Let's get you those books, before the second service starts," Jason smiled.
The teen opened and closed his mouth multiple times before he settled on, "Thanks."
Jason turned, walking pass the empty pews. He slowed for a second to check that Gabriel kept up with him only to catch sight of Dick in their shadows. Jason led the two pass the podium and into the back area. Turning to the right, Jason entered a narrow room. Cabinets and a sink took up the width of the room. Cardboard boxes were scattered along the left wall. A long fold-out table took up the center of the room.
Sorting between the boxes, Jason pulled out a stout book filled with odd books. He walked over to the table and dropped the box in front of Gabriel. As Jason tore off the tape, his cellphone vibrated. Jason dug through his pockets, pulling up the rectangle. The alarm read: Second Service in 20.
Peeking at Dick, Jason suggested, "Dick can you help Gabriel sort through the books, while I head back out front? All you have to do is mark off what was taken before either of you leave."
Dick scanned the area slowly before he nodded.
Patting Gabriel's shoulder, Jason said, "Take as many as you want. Also, the doors are open if you ever need a warm place to sleep."
◈ ◈ ◈
You'd think not having Dick around would mean I can focus on speaking, Jason thought wryly to himself.
"And I stood there frozen watching this horrible scene unfold in front of me."
As Jason walked across the front of the church, a portion of Jason's mind wondered how Dick handled Gabriel vice versa. He caught himself once or twice turning in the direction of the back room before he adjusted to face a different portion of the congregation. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Time passed slowly.
"My first thought was to do what was easier for me. Then I paused and asked myself a few questions," Jason said, holding up his fingers, "What would I want someone to do my place?"
A few of the congregation stirred in their seats, checking their watches and phones. Picking up on the listless air, Jason simplified his ending statements. Stopping in the center, Jason skimmed the crowd. A handful of people obviously edged forward on their seats, ignoring how their Sunday's best creased. A mother or two gave their children scathing glances or held their children to the pews.
"–, to push people away, or to allow others to stew in their paranoia. It is in those moments where our inactions speak just as strongly as our actions," Jason summed up.
Holding the silent for several minutes, Jason clapped his hands and hummed, "I hope you all have a wonderful day."
I wonder if this is how teachers feel, Jason pondered as the crowd dispersed.
The majority made a beeline to the door, slowed by small groupings of older men and women socializing. He checked his phone: 11:10. As the room emptied out, Jason gestured for a pair of women to take over. Jason handled seventy percent of the church's duties. The other thirty percent went to the miraculous handful of clergy-people that remained at his nontraditional and ad libitum church.
Jason unceremoniously hurried to the backroom to check the duo that gnawed on his thoughts throughout his entire homily. Opening the door, he met a woman in her late fifties dressed in a long dark skirt and white blouse. She smiled and waved. Jason nodded in return, searching the room with a sweep of his head.
"Good morning, Father. Are you looking for someone?" she greeted.
Jason explained, "There were two people here -" Jason paused searching through his mental dictionary, "My friend and one of our members."
Stranger than calling Dick a friend, Jason thought, is not having a clue where he is.
To define his relationship with Dick seemed strange, he knew Dick too well to consider him a stranger or even an acquaintance yet he knew Dick not well enough to dub him a friend. Their shared experiences too few and too strained to form anything more than an slapdash bond. Naming their relationship at all felt too premature. They had only begun to make heads and tails of each other.
"I think," she spoke up at last, "the taller one mentioned heading to the park."
"Kane Park?" Jason asked for clarification.
"Well, they left out the left exist."
"Thank you, Teresa."
He caught her amused laugh as he turned on his heel. Moved as quickly as was reasonable for someone whose legs were restricted by a robe. Nestled between an empty lot and a nearly historic aged house, Kane Park could barely dare to call itself a park. The grassy patch barely housed a small field, swings, and a rusted metal structures. Between the shady loiters and generations old play are, few allowed their children to do more than cut through the park during daytime.
Jason stepped off the sidewalk. The parched grass crunching under his feet. He passed the sparse patch of trees until he saw Dick standing off to one side. Gabriel occupied him, sitting on the warped park bench. Dick saw Jason first. His head suddenly jerked to face Jason. Gabriel responded to Dick’s actions by turning to Jason’s direction.
"Father Todd!" Jason recognized the booming voice as Gabriel's, "Look what Dick can do!"
Dick straightened out. Bending his knees, he bounced like a spring. His feet followed his head into a back flip. The second his feet touched the ground, Dick entered a forward somersault.He planted his landing. Brushing the loose strands of hair from his face, Dick beamed as Gabriel clapped.
Blinking, Jason shook his head. The responsible adult inside of him questioned what series of events led them to discover Dick's acrobatic skills. The rest of him enjoyed the wide, shining grin that spread across of Dick's face. For the first time since Jason had met Dick, he seemed completely nonplus. Elation radiated from Dick's pores, spreading to Jason. He chuckled.
Gabriel complimented, "Dude, you hafta teach me that."
"I don't remember when I learned how to do this," Dick replied, a small crease formed in his forehead.
"That's cool," Gabriel answered, "Keep do it again and you'd figure out how to explain it to me."
Beep. Beep. Beep. Gabriel dug through his pockets pulling out an off brand, several versions old smart phone. He frowned. Picking up the three or four paperbacks, Gabriel tucked them under his arm. Jerking his head up, he made eye contact with Dick.
"I've got to leave. I'll see you later. You got to taught me how to do that. And don't you forget, you promised to teach me how to read," Gabriel rattled off.
Gabriel held up his hand at an angle. His arm hung in the air in waiting. After a moment, Dick met Gabriel's palm with his own. They ended by tapping fists. Gabriel turned and paused. He waved awkwardly at Jason before shuffling off.
