dick grayson. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} blackandblue) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} chances_rpg,@ 2024-05-01 18:54:00 |
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Who. Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
When. April 2
Where. the Batboys' Apartment
What. Jason stopped letting Dick get away with not talking about his time away.
Warnings. discussions of canon murder, death, violence, etc
"And now... you're caught up."
When. April 2
Where. the Batboys' Apartment
What. Jason stopped letting Dick get away with not talking about his time away.
Warnings. discussions of canon murder, death, violence, etc
What Dick was kicking further and further down on the list was the fact that he had decided to not talk about his time away. What had been days in San Francisco had been years in Gotham and Blüdhaven and Chicago and New York and that wasn’t even counting the various trips around the world. It didn’t count breaking a world record for the highest altitude jump. It didn’t count all of the people they’d lost. Some had returned. Others… hadn’t.
Dick was lost in his thoughts, on autopilot as he poured unhealthy cereal into a bowl and prayed the milk in the fridge hadn’t expired. Oh, he would still use it because that was the kind of person he was. The funny thing about autopilot and zoning out was that reflexes and muscle memory were still very much on and that had been why Dick had asked for the ride when he’d returned. He could have hurt someone if they had decided he looked like an easy target. It said a lot about his spatial awareness and passive perception that when Jason startled him, he hadn’t reacted with anything more than the smallest flinch. But there shouldn’t have been a flinch to begin with and Dick hoped Jason hadn’t been watching him. He shook out the box a little more and watched a plastic-wrapped item plop into the bowl. “Oh hey, a prize,” Dick said, pasting a grin in place as he snagged it with his free hand.
The problem with that was, Jason had been watching.
He moved in an instant, stepping in to pin Dick against the counter, a loose cage of arms and sheer presence. "Is there something you wanted to tell me, Dick?"
Jason had been watching since Dick had disappeared and then come back acting just a little... off. At first he'd missed it. He'd been distracted with Slade, and Quentin, and then Quentin. Maybe that made him a shitty brother, he didn't know, but he'd put the pieces together now that there was something that Dick was keeping to himself. And Jason wasn't saying they couldn't have secrets, but this one, this one felt like something he needed to know.
Perfect example about reflexes, really. Dick had turned as Jason essentially pounced and they were facing each other when the larger man (dammit.) had him pinned. The edge of the counter dug into his back with how Dick was trying to lean away. Had it been almost anyone else (not counting Bruce or any of the other Bats), Dick would have stood his ground and let it get really awkward with the severe lack of personal space.
As it was, Dick slowly lifted the plastic-sealed toy between them. It was held between his index and middle fingers with the ease of which either of them could have held a batarang or similar throwing weapon. "If you wanted it so badly, you just-" There was something in Jason's eyes and Dick let the sassy remark simply die. Dick, who could survive nearly all forms of interrogation and many of the various villain-branded serums, dropped his gaze. It was the most honest answer he could have given just then because they both knew he wasn't exactly open when it had to count. "Can we talk about it later?" he asked, a weak plea at best, and Dick knew it. Besides, 'later' was far too vague. And, sure, Dick could have turned it into a fight or he could have snarked and sassed until Jason got fed up. But that was part of the problem: Dick didn't want to. The conflicting memories and emotions had Dick clinging to the ones of the last several months instead of waging emotional warfare with the man still looming.
"Sure." Jason didn't move, though, counted to three in his head and then said, "It's later. Talk."
Dick's skill level had changed, too, like he'd suddenly gotten in some kind of extra training that he hadn't had the last time Jason had fought beside him. He'd noticed it during the fight with Deathstroke, but he hadn't said anything because... because he hadn't been sure he wanted to know, then. Honestly, that was a huge part of it. Not knowing was dangerous, though. He had to be able to depend on knowing what Dick could do, if he was going to fight beside him.
If looks could kill, Jason would be on his third life. Dick practically growled in frustration but didn't attempt to dodge the demand. Because that's what it was: a demand even though it was done in the most bratty-little-brother way possible.
"I--" Dick started and then pushed Jason backward, needing space. It was the wrong move, Dick immediately thought to himself, because his words were going to follow that distance and be interpreted in all the wrong ways. "Just... just give me a sec," he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I read back over the network to see what sort of precedent there was and, yeah, my experience falls in line. I got sent home and proceeded to live my life with no memory of this place. And then I suddenly ended up here and it all conflicts in the most confusing ways." He couldn't look at Jason. "I remember you coming back. I remember a lot of things and I didn't want to..." To what? Talk about it? Think about it? Worry Jason? Potentially break the brotherly-truce they had going on here and not back home?
When he looked up at Jason again, it was that tired expression that he didn't bother to mask. "Bruce is gone." Dead, was what he meant. The weakest smile appeared. "Oh. And I killed The Joker. It's a technicality since they resuscitated him but I did it. Crossed that line."
Shit. How did they line up now? Jason didn't remember any of this, was Dick... past him? Had their timelines diverged even further somehow? Honestly, Jason should have studied more multiversal theory. He should have figured that it would somehow end up directly applicable in the fucked up kind of life that they all led.
"You... what?" Jason stared at him and the world tilted on its axis. He wasn't even sure how he felt about it, honestly. He'd wanted to kill The Joker, wanted it so badly that it hurt; was he jealous that Dick had actually done it, even if it was temporary? Or was he just shocked that golden boy Dick Grayson had gone that far? "Wait, fuck, what happened to Bruce? He was fine, the last time I talked to him..."
To be fair, Dick had been so far behind Jason that he hadn't even known the younger man was even alive and that left a lot of room for interpretation on timelines.
His hand gave an impatient wave, giving away his need to move but Dick stayed rooted in place. He had pushed Jason back a step and it wouldn't be fair to change the space a second time. "Yeah," he said softly, in answer to Jason's surprise about the Joker. "Beat him to death with my fists. I thought he got Tim killed and I wasn't going to let that stand. Not again. Bruce got there fast enough and we're back to... everything."
Dick leaned back against the counter and pressed the fingertips of a hand against his brow. "He's just... he's gone, Jay. We don't… think he's coming back this time. Darkseid."
With his fists. That was... sure, Jason had thought about it. How satisfying it would be. But his plans had always been to shoot him. Quicker and cleaner. Dick had...
Well. At least someone had cared enough about Tim to try to make sure it never happened again.
"The Lazarus Pit, though, or..." Jason shook his head. Darkseid was a whole different level. Was there any coming back from that, even for Bruce?
His mouth thinned out into an expression that wasn't quite a grimace nor was it a bitter smile. It was somewhere in-between. "I don't think... not this time," Dick whispered and sagged a little. He knew that he was closest with Bruce, even with their spats and their differences, because he had been the first. He had been with the man the longest. It wasn't just Batman-and- It was Bruce Wayne who had taken him in, educated him, loved him in his way. Father, brother, mentor, partner...
Gone.
"Superman confirmed it was his body. It was just... a burned skeleton, basically." Dick said and it was only through sheer will that he didn't shudder or tremble with the weight of the grief he felt. "God, we lost so much."
"What... was I..." Jason stopped, forehead wrinkling as he tried to find the words he wanted. "Did you see me?"
Had Jason been there? Had he done the most that he could to... to save Bruce? Jason had spent so long being mad at him, but he'd never wanted him dead even before they'd made their peace for the moment.
Dick shook his head and his hand reached out to fist into Jason's shirt, near his shoulder as he stepped back into his space willingly. “No. I wasn't there either. No one was,” he whispered, feeling like he'd shattered once he'd said the words out loud. He shuddered. “Before I came here, before I came back,” he corrected quickly, “Alfred, Tim, and I had just kind of… accepted it. We had a movie night.” With Bruce's empty chair between them. He gave a bitter laugh. “He didn't even get to see my halo jump. Broke so many records just to prove I could. God, the shit he'd been giving me when I was only at twenty thousand feet jumps.” He had wanted to be able to tell Bruce, to see his reaction to that.
Maybe Superman had been wrong, Jason's brain tried to jump in with a fix. Maybe it wasn't Bruce after all, maybe it was a clone or... or some kind of convincing fake.
But it was Superman. Could Superman even be wrong about that kind of thing?
Jason leaned in to rest his forehead against Dick's. "He would've found something else to give you shit about," he pointed out. The words were still pained.
Dick clenched his jaw around the emotion he frantically did not want to feel or let slip. He chose to take comfort in the way Jason rested his forehead against his, the way Jay didn't shrug off the hold Dick had, and the way Jason was just… God, so Jason about that response. Dick laughed helplessly and it was a wet sound but it was the most he would allow. “Yeah,” Dick agreed a few seconds later. “He always found things to give me shit about.” But it was said with a grin. For better or worse, Bruce had only ever wanted to make Dick into the best version of himself even if everyone else (except for Alfred) thought Bruce meant making Dick into another Bruce Wayne-slash-Batman.
Dick swallowed around a secret and released his hold on Jason's shirt only to absently smooth it out. He pulled his head back and stared at his brother in arms. His smile was weak but it was all he could muster. “And now… you're caught up.”
Jason examined him closely; he suspected that there was at least something that Dick wasn't telling him. There usually was, then the Bats were involved, always layers and layers of secrets.
There were things that Jason still hadn't told Dick about what he knew. He guessed...
"Okay. Alright, I'm up to date. And the date sucks, because fuck all our lives." Jason would get the rest out of him later, if it was important enough to come up somehow.
Whatever it was, maybe he was full of himself but he'd bet it was about him.
For right then though, they needed... something. Something neutral, something where they didn't have to talk about anything important. "Dick. Dickie-bird," Jason crooned. "Do you... want to watch Master Chef Junior?"
Dick got a wary expression. Dickie-bird got narrowed, suspicious eyes. And then Jason dropped the bomb and it was so harmless that Dick couldn't stop the laugh that burst out of him. "Yeah, Little Wing. Let's go watch Master Chef Junior," he agreed with a small (but grateful) shake of his head.
At least he didn't have to hide all of it anymore.