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Jason listened from the back deck, as Dick and Damian talked inside, and the clatter of pots and pans. A few seconds later, it was the sound of Dick’s bare feet, stepping out onto the porch too, and sliding the screen door closed behind him.
“Damian’s going to cook, he says.” Dick hummed warmly. “Said he’ll call when it’s ready.”
“You think it’s a good idea, leaving him in there alone?” Jason asked over his shoulder. “And I don’t mean like…he’s running, I just mean…has he ever actually cooked before?”
“He claims he has, and I trust his judgment.” Dick laughed. “He said Alfie taught him the essentials. They made macaroni and cheese a few weeks ago.”
“Ahh, a master chef, then.” Jason smirked as Dick joined him at the railing. Dick looked at the trees for a second, before sighing and turning to lean back against it. In his periphery, Jason could tell Dick was still watching their youngest with the utmost focus, even with his nonchalance.
Jason remained watching the trees, liking their scenery. He didn’t get out to nature as much as he wanted to, and this was a nice reprieve, despite the circumstances. He liked the smell, and the feelings that came with it. The sounds, the animals, and even the fog in the mornings and late at night.
“…How are you doing, Jay?” Dick whispered, after a moment. “I don’t think I’ve been able to ask you in a while.”
Jason shrugged. “Answer’s probably the same as last time.” He paused, and sighed. “I’m coping well enough. As well as you are. It’s easiest not to think about it, you know? Just…focus on getting him okay again. Getting him to feel safe, at the very least.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Dick nodded, glancing at him. “But…can you think of it for a second? Just for me?”
Jason hesitated, but shrugged again. “I…don’t know what you want to hear, Dick.”
“The truth.” Dick promised. “The Joker’s dead. I know you feel guilty, because Damian did it. I know it breaks your heart how it happened, but. That’s not what I’m asking.”
Jason looked over in confusion.
“I’m not asking about Damian, here. I’m asking about you.” Dick explained sincerely. “The Joker terrorized you most of your life, and now…he’s gone. That’s gotta be a…I don’t know, a shock? Even for you.” There was a clatter inside, and Dick turned back towards the door. “I just…maybe…what are you thinking, Jay?”
“I don’t know.” Jason murmured. “I don’t think I’m thinking much of anything. I don’t think I have, since we found Damian. Every clear thought I’ve had in the last week is just…do we have food, do we have shelter. Is Damian having nightmares, is Dick even sleeping. Does Damian need something, can I get it for him, what does Damian need?”
Jason stopped. Dick waited.
“But feeling.” Jason emphasized. “I feel…relief? I feel…free, almost. And that’s scary, because Damian was right.”
“Right? About what?”
“He said it before you got to us.” Jason waved off. “He said I didn’t need to be scared anymore, because he took away the thing that hurt me.” He stopped, and looked up, to watch birds fly overhead. “…He said I didn’t have to be the Red Hood anymore.”
“…Oh.”
“And, I mean. He’s right. I became the Red Hood to fuck with Bruce and…something about the Joker.” Jason waved his hands as he spoke. “And it’s just…it’s such a weird feeling. I mean, it sucks for Damian, and I’ll hate myself every day for what he did for me – for us – but…I don’t. I don’t feel scared anymore. I feel like…like a weight’s been lifted off my chest. Like I can breathe for the first time in…years.”
“That makes sense.” Dick said softly. “And, really. I’m happy for you, Jay. You deserve to feel that. Or not feel that misery, anymore.”
“…Yeah.” Jason hummed. “I don’t really feel or think about that, though, when Damian has his breakdowns. The jumping at every sound. The newfound clinginess. The other day, his nightmare in the car. Even when he tells us what he’s thinking, and feeling, and that’s good. That’s great, that he’s opening up and letting us know, but all it does is remind us that this is all my fault.
“Our fault.” Dick corrected. “You’re no more to blame that I am. Than Bruce is.”
“…It’s hard. Weird. Because I’m happy and guilty all at once. I want to be happy, and I refuse to let myself not be guilty. And on top of all that, it’s like all of my misery and my pain got transferred to him, and there’s nothing I or you or anybody can do to take that pain away from him, arguably the person who deserves this shit least.” Jason’s voice was tight, and emotional. “It’s just…a whirlwind. I don’t know what feeling is right or wrong, and it’s…it’s stressful.” He gripped the railing and squeezed. “Because I want to fix this and I don’t know how.”
Dick’s gaze was lowered, staring at the floorboards. “…Maybe…you just do what Damian said, then.”
Jason looked back at him. “What?”
“Damian said he did this so you wouldn’t have to be the Red Hood anymore.” Dick glanced up, almost sadly. “So…do that. Give up the hood. Be Jason.” He smiled. “Just be Jason.”
Jason gaped. Another clatter in the kitchen had him turning around towards the door himself, watching the little boy inside.
“I’m not saying that’ll fix this, but.” Dick watched as Jason slowly leaned back, bracing himself on the railing. “It might help ease Damian’s mind a little bit, help you figure out your own emotions about all this, and…that’s a start.”
“…I can’t quit.” Jason whispered. “I…We do this to save people, Dick. Even me, with my less-than-moral means. It’s engrained in our heads. It’s an addiction, at this point. How…how am I going to save people as just Jason?”
“Maybe you should ask yourself, then.” Dick shrugged. “Do you want to save people, or do you want to save Damian?”
Jason didn’t respond.
“And I’m not saying you have to.” Dick suddenly shifted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. It was ringing. “I’ll support you no matter what you want to do. I’m just saying that might be something to consider. Something to think about.”
“…For sure…” Jason breathed absently. “…Yeah, something to think about for sure.” He gulped, blinked, and asked. “Who?”
“Tim.” Dick sighed. “Should probably take it.”
“Tell the dweeb I said hello.” Jason murmured, stepping off towards the screen door. As he reached it, he tugged it open. “And tell him I said to get some damn sleep.”
Dick smiled as Jason disappeared inside, and he immediately heard him strike up a conversation with Damian. He shook his head lightly, and turned back towards the trees, answering the call.
“What’s up, little brother?”
And there was a pause. A second of breathing that sounded too old to be Tim. And Dick didn’t quite register it before:
“…Dick.”
Bruce sounded tired and sad. Calm, though, and careful. Like he was trying to comfort a cornered dog. Which, really, Dick could see the analogy, here.
“I’m not calling to fight.” Bruce continued immediately, a little urgently, before Dick could get a word it. “I just…I just want to talk. And if you don’t want to do that now, then maybe we can make plans to meet, just you and I, to talk this out in person.”
Dick felt his heart pounding, as he weighed his options. He could just hang up. Cut all communications unless someone contacted him with a code or phrasing only the two of them knew.
He could scream Bruce out right now. Scream and cry and cuss and demand to know how we could have let this happen to Damian, Bruce.
“Tim said…Tim suggested I call, and we talk first. That I explain things.” Bruce continued. Dick just whirled around and looked inside, where Jason was tasting whatever Damian had made, and Damian was watching him carefully. Without thinking, he rapped his knuckles against the doorframe, and both of his brothers looked up.
He twirled his finger. Didn’t know what he was saying, or trying to convey, but watched as Jason carefully stepped closer to Damian, and unhooked the holsters on his hip, and knew that whatever it was – Jason got it. Jason knew. Jason was ready.
“Then talk.” Dick croaked. “And don’t you lie to me, B. Because I swear to you, I’ll know. I’ll know if you’re just saying what I want to hear-”
“I’m not going to turn him in, Dick. That’s not what I’m chasing you.” Bruce countered, almost harshly, but definitely loudly as he spoke over Dick. “You’re my sons, and something terrible has just happened. Did you really think I wouldn’t be worried for you? That none of you were okay? That…that Damian’s traumatized beyond belief?”
“I…I know you, Bruce. Especially when it comes to the Joker, and to one of us breaking your precious rules. You don’t see straight. I know you told me at the scene that you were worried, but. I just can’t trust you on that.” Dick tried himself. “I can’t trust you won’t lash out at Damian for what happened. Or Jason for that matter.”
“I…”And Dick heard voices in the background. Tim he thought, though it sounded way more feminine. Or maybe there were two voices. “I understand your concern, Dick. And…thank you, for putting Damian and Jason first in this mess.”
A stop, and Dick tried to listen to the background still. The voices were silent, and there was no other sound to indicate where they were. The cave? The manor? Wayne Tower, the Watchtower?
“…And you’re right. I can’t…promise I won’t overreact about…something. But, I’d like to try.” He sighed, and it hurt Dick’s heart. “Please let me try, Dick. I just…want to get Damian the help he needs. Jason, too. You, too, if you want it.”
Dick thought, but as he did, he heard a shuffle at the door, and turned to find Damian standing there, just as he asked, “…Grayson?”
“Can there be rules?” Dick asked softly, staring down at the little boy they’ve all wronged so badly. “Like…we can leave whenever we want, if we need to. Or…or if anyone wants to stop, or take a break, we can, for as long as we want or need to.”
“Whatever you feel is necessary, Dick.” Bruce promised. “…Tim and Talia are available for mediation, if you want them there, too. Or it can be just you and me, or all three of you and me. Whatever you want.”
“Talia…” Dick breathed, and Damian suddenly perked. Though the perk immediately dropped into a minor panic as he stepped back, away from the door.
“Mother is here?” Damian asked, taking another step. Jason was immediately behind him, strong, gentle hands on his shoulders. “Mother knows?”
And Bruce must have heard – or he must have been on speakerphone or something – because suddenly Talia was there, on the line.
“And my only worry is him, Richard. Please know that, and inform him of that.” She requested politely, calmly. Must have been another one of Tim’s suggestions. “I do not care about that clown. I do not care about my beloved’s morals, or any fight or turmoil you have with him. I am here for my son, and my son alone.”
“So you’re going to take him, then? Back to your dumb base who-knows-where?” Dick spat on reflex.
“No.” Talia swore. “You want what’s best for him, I am aware of that, and wish to help you reach that goal, for him and Jason, by any means and at any location possible.”
And Dick…found himself believe that, whole-heartedly.
“Talking is all we want, right now.” Bruce was back now. “And if we talk, and decide life on the road with you and Jason is what he needs, then that’s the first step, and we work with that.”
“…You don’t really think that’s best for him, Bruce.” Dick laughed bitterly. “I mean…I don’t really think this is best for him.”
“…I know.” Bruce sighed, though Dick sensed a little amusement there. “I’m just…trying to show you. I’m willing to compromise. Get this figured out the right way.”
Dick glanced back towards the house. The screen was open now. Jason had knelt behind Damian, had his arms wrapped comfortingly around Damian’s chest, who was leaning back against Jason. They were both watching him closely, trying to read him, like they were still both in costume. Using those detective skills they’d both been taught so well.
“…We have to talk to him eventually.” Jason whispered. “And you know as well as I do. We can’t get kiddo help if we keep running like this.”
Dick swallowed the lump in his throat, looked down at Damian.
“…I’ll be okay.” Damian promised, and Dick almost cried, because it was so clear that he wouldn’t be, but he was so, so brave. “Do what you think is best, Grayson.”
Dick blinked his tears back, but smiled and nodded.
“…Fine.” He gasped, turning away from his brothers. “Fine, Bruce. We can talk.”
“When? Where?”
“…Now is fine, I guess.” Dick sniffed, running a hand down his face. “Or…I mean, if you want to get here, I’m sure you have the means to be here in a few hours, right? We’re at-”
“Talia’s cabin in the mountains.” Bruce cut off, and Dick’s stomach still dropped, despite the tentative reunion. “…I know.”
“…How?” Dick almost begged. “How did you know?”
And it was faint, like it was miles away, though probably closer. Jason and Damian were murmuring to each other, but even under that, Dick heard a light pop! echo through the trees. The pop like a car door being closed.
No.
“Dick?” Jason asked carefully, and Dick listened as he shifted back to his feet.
“Talia owns the cabin.” Bruce explained gently. “And Talia claims that Jason knew that. So how could we not?”
Dick was frozen, and his face must have been pale, because Jason asked again. “Dick, you okay? What did he say?”
“Bruce,” Dick’s voice was shaking. “Bruce, please don’t tell me…”
Bruce seemed to pause – and Dick heard a bird caw on his end of the line. A few seconds later, a bird cawed over his head too. “…We can still speak on the phone, if that’s what you’d prefer. Whatever you want, Dick.”
No. No, Dick had to see for himself. Without warning, he dashed back towards the house. Jason grabbed Damian and dragged him out of the way, cocooning him in the safety of his arms once more as Dick burst back through the door and passed them.
“Grayson?!”
“Stay here.” Dick ordered, running through the house.
“Dick, what’s happening?” Jason called. “What did he say?”
“I said stay here.” Dick demanded urgently, awkwardly slipping shoes onto his feet, and throwing the front door open, stumbling down the front steps.
And sure enough. At the mouth of the clearing where the cabin sat, where the small driveway morphed into an even tinier one-way road through the endless miles of trees –
Stood Bruce.