Takes place before and after the comic Teen Titans #29 when a recently-ressurrected Jason Todd (Robin II) attacks Tim Drake (Robin III) in Titans Tower.

Title: Ameagari. Japanese for "After the Rain"

All characters belong to DC comics. Lyrics from Sailor Moon by Naoko Takeuchi.

A-A-A

Tod nimmt Leute, die wir lieben

"Death takes people whom we love"

Jason walks back to his hidden compound and pulls up the metal chain that separates his world from the outside. The garage door opens up and he steps into the vast dark interior of his workspace, an abandoned Wayne Tech warehouse. Machine guns and various collections of artillery line the passing walls as he steps forward and removes his helmet. He carelessly tosses his jacket aside before taking a seat in front of his desk.

Four computer screens lay before him, their images glowing as they wash an eerie blue light over Jason's face. He locks his fingers together and presses them to his mouth in deep thought, carefully surveying the profiles before him.

The first screen shows the vigilante known as Batman. Jason bears a heavy grudge towards his former mentor for not avenging his death. If only the sadistic Clown Prince of Crime were dead then Jason would feel he could live (or rest) in peace. But he cannot. He must cross the line dividing tolerance from oppression and defy Batman's rigid ethics if it means saving Gotham City.

The next screen displays the bright red hair and freckled face of Barbara Gordon. Her keen green eyes are barely masked behind glistening gold spectacles. She lightly drums her fingertips on the side of her wheelchair while she continues to remain engrossed in her research. Jason resents her very little, having recalled the kindness that the former Batgirl once showed him. Although Oracle is now known for being one of the most brilliant computer analysts for the irritating self-righteous "good guys", Jason believes it beneath him to attack a cripple.

More disdain is directed towards the aerialist Teen Wonder dubbed Nightwing who is caught in a death-defying stunt on the screen. His surrogate older brother has always been a source of admiration but now it has been twisted into misguided calculations in Jason's mind, believing that Dick Grayson has betrayed him as well. Patience, he tells himself. He will confront Nightwing personally when the time comes.

The last screen causes Jason's teeth to clench with rage. He hisses at the spiky haired youth. He is young and untainted by the evils of the world and (unlike his predecessor) obediently listens to the orders and wishes of the Dark Knight. Jason guesses that he bathes too often and reads Dickens before bedtime.

Tim Drake, Robin number three. The baby of the Bat family.

Succeeding where Jason failed.

He will not allow that to happen.

"Timmy Timmy Timbo," Jason says, twirling a dagger between his fingers. "You and I have a lot to talk about."

Dressed in a doppelganger outfit from his own days as Robin, Jason rammed his fists into Tim's stomach. The smaller youth sucked in a breath of pain before he was given a hard punch across the jaw. The duel around Titans Tower led them down stairs and through doorways.

"So you think you're the World's Greatest Detective, discovering Batman's identity," Jason sneered. "Some goddam stupid puzzle solved and you're Robin. Congratulations. But you really don't have what it takes to become a Boy Wonder."

Tim backflipped away to stay out of harm's way. He was a good martial artist but Tim knew that Jason was much faster, older, and stronger than he was. He had to keep his distance from this resurrected hero-turned-psychopath.

"I never meant to replace you," he insisted.

"Could have fooled me," came the answer. Tim blocked Jason with his bo staff. The older one grunted. "Good moves. But not good enough, Tiny Tim." His hand clamped onto Tim's wrist and he threw the boy across the room. Tim came to a rolling stop on one knee.

"Is that what this is about? You're mad that I'm keeping it on after you died?" he demanded between gasps of breath.

"I'm disgusted that Batman settled for so little in a new partner."

Tim dragged himself up, fingers curling around his staff. "You're not the same person, Jason. You've become a murderer. Maybe Batman wouldn't take you down, because he cared about you. But I will."

Jason snarled back. "You little brat," he muttered. Jason slammed his entire body into Tim and they went crashing through the glass. Broken shards pierced their skin just before they landed harshly on the stone ground of the Hall of the Fallen Titans.

"You think you can stop ME?" he roared. Jason grabbed Tim's leg and swung brutally, driving the Boy Wonder against the granite base of a statue. Stars winked inside of Tim's throbbing head. He felt a hand curl around his hair, almost yanking it out by the roots, and lifting his bruised body up.

"You really believe you're Robin? That you've won the right to wear that badge?"

Tim's lips parted and he whispered weakly.

"…yes.."

Then he blacked out.

A-A-A

"kono kusari-kaketa chikyuu ni mo shini-kaketeru
hiru wa hi no hikari mayakashi darake
yoru wa tsuki to hoshi oroka na agaki
ningen domo no saigo no agaki no yosuga"

"Even on this rotten Earth, it is dying
Day is the sun's light full of deception
Night is the moon and stars-foolish struggle
The means of humans last struggle"

-Yami Koso Utsukushii

A-A-A

Raven's perspective

Tim is sore and badly bruised but at least he is alive. The boy mumbles that he lost conscience and lightly touches a hand to his chest. The badge of Robin has been torn off his uniform with bare hands.

The other Titans run into the mausoleum to help. But they are rooted to the spot when they see the blody writing on the wall. Garfield is bewildered by the return and Victor is also in shock. Donna glances down with regret, knowing Dick's surrogate little brother has unleashed disgrace and hatred within the sanctity of the Tower.

Jason has left us with more than a few blood stains and shattered glass.

Tim's wounds are many but he is strong in spirit. I know he will recover. He is loyal, brave, noble, and deeply committed to his friends. A good person.

My friends will forgive me but my attention is more focused on our attacker.

Why could I have not sense Tim's life in danger? I discover the remains of a knockout drug still linger on my pillow. Of course, such a deep sleep prevented me from taking action. Jason did not want us to interfere. Either he fears my powers or respects me enough to disarm me without injury.

Even with perverted judgment, Jason still seeks to keep the playing field level on his grounds of justice.

But I vaguely remember him when he wore the mask of Robin. My thoughts are distracted by a gasp of breath and a point of a finger. We all stand in our tracks and stare at the foreboding letters sprawled in front of us:

JASON TODD WAS HERE.

I could smell the stench of the Lazarus Pit on his blood. Few comprehend just how treacherous its waters can truly be. They promise salvation and ultimate power for their victims but then drain them of all conscience and compassion. "Cursed are those who emerge from the Lazarus Pit", Azar warned me. "They return with only half a soul".

Whether Jason willingly went into the pit or not, I do not know. The miracle of his return does not linger on the question of how death has been working backwards lately, but why Jason uses death to achieve his means.

I only know that he is brazenly wounded by the impression of being "replaced". He is like a very small child who pushes down another boy in the sandbox, feeling threatened by any outsider.

Dick once mentioned that that Jason's father allied with criminals and his mother abandoned him. Raised without discipline, Jason grew up as a hostile compulsive adolescent who was unable to listen to authority. I warned him that his impatience would lead him astray. Azar forgive my words for whatever harm they have caused.

We have already lost so many of our friends: Tula, Kole, and Dove, just to name a few.

And Joseph. My sweet Joseph.

Heaven forbid that we lose another fallen soldier.

I sense Jason fleeing back towards his hometown of Gotham City. While the other Titans are getting Tim off to the medical wing, I harness my powers and teleport, allowing my instincts to guide me in finding Jason.

I pray that somehow he may listen to me.

Jason, poor little Jason, what have you done to yourself?

A-A-A

"Nando koi ni ochite mo Itsumo umaku ikanakute..."

No matter how often I fall in love I can never do it successfully...

"Anata no sei ja nai no gomen ne Furihajimeta ame no sei yo"

It's not your fault, I am so sorry. It's the fault of the rain that started to fall

- Shinoraha Emi

I land in front of him, booted feet touching the rain-splattered concrete. Jason recoils for a second, skidding to a halt. His head is masked in a crimson metal helmet, the visage of this "Red Hood" completing his new uniform. Two small white holes are the only markings on his mask, which blocks out the rest of the world.

"Get away from me, witch," Jason cautions me in a gruff voice. "My fight isn't with you."

"I am not here to fight you, Jason," I say in a calm voice. "I only want to know what troubles you and why you despise us."

A sneering sound emulates from the mask. "Despise me? You're the ones who hate me. I wouldn't be surprised if Nightwing celebrated after I got blown up by a psychotic clown. And you all just love Timmy to death, don't you?"

"That is not true."

"Isn't it? You all forgot about me. If I been a Titan, things would be different."

There is a twinge of regret in his voice. I must use that to get closer to him.

"We could never forget you, Jason. We can still help you, if only you will allow us."

"What makes you think I need help?"

"You are scared..confused," I caution him. "But it is not too late to change yourself."

"I got beaten half to death, blown up, buried alive, and crawled out of a grave with my bare hands. That's enough of a change for me," he snaps.

"You wear a different mask but is it Jason Todd underneath all the same. Let the Titans help save you this time-"

"I don't want to be saved!" he thunders with a raised clenched fist. Something has pierced his iron barrier because his voice starts to tremble. "If Heaven can't punish my enemies then it's not worth being in."

As I feared, his death has driven a wedge between him and his peers.

"Take of your mask," I tell him.

"Why should I?"

I breathe deeply to keep my emotions in balance. Just because he loses control of himself does not give me an excuse to do the same.

"I want to see the eyes of Jason Todd."

He does nothing.

It's not your fault. It's the rain's fault.

"Jason, please," I beg him softly.

He cocks his head to one side in amusement. "Fine," he says flatly.

There is a small hissing sound when he releases a mechanism in the back of his helmet. It opens up and he easily lifts it up over his head.

For a moment I am startled. Is this the once-and-former Boy Wonder who stands before me?

I will not deny it; he is tall and very handsome. But the muscles in his face are tight and rigid with hatred. There is insolence in every sinew of his mouth, pulled back into a sarcastic smile of sharp white teeth. He smells like a man too; he has tasted wine and women since his ressurection

He wears a bright red domino mask. The narrow slits of his eyes confirm my suspicions.

Jason's smirk broadens like a tiger. "What'd you expect? A ghost?" He pushes rain-slicked out of his face.

Then expression softens barely. He shifts his weight from one foot to another. "You were right about one thing, though. My temper was going to get me killed. And it did. "

He is trying to place the blame on me this time. "I did not give you a prophecy, only advice as a friend."

"Friends." He spits the word out like a disgusting poison. "They are just a crutch for the weak."

"No, friends are a balm to make you stronger." I feel the warmth of Azarath and its soothing kindness rising up inside of me, daring me to go further.

"I am your friend, Jason. Trust me."

He turns his head aside. My words are simple but my voice remains steady and soft. I can feel his soul and it is bitter to the taste, dipped in wormwood and gall. It struggles in an effort to keep at bay, yet wants to be soothed from its bruises.

"I…I can't," he says, fumbling for an excuse. "I can't trust anyone."

My eyes lower and I begin to chant. My soul self rises up and materializes into the form of a black bird. I hear Jason gasp and drop his helmet. My powers flow forth like a strong current and the aura wraps itself around him swiftly, disarming him before he can run away.

"Stop it! Get away!" he shouts.

He is frightened. Not of me, but of what his soul has to bear: guilt, fear, regret, and shame. It is true that the inner demons are the most difficult to fight. If only he will let me share in his pain…

Because Gotham is not a sandbox and the world is not his playground.

"Jason, if you are your own judge and jury..then are you not also your own executioner?"

The soul-self winds around Jason and holds him in like a cocoon. At first he struggles to break free but slowly it dies down in the calm breathing tones that work their way into the chanting.

You are never alone. You are not forgotten.

"No, I was!" his voice cries out with terror. "I was alone and had to survive on the streets! Nobody cared if I lived or died."

The secrets of his past begin to unravel before me. I see a skinny boy in ripped jeans trying to steal the tires off a car. The tall man in black notices him. He does not attack the boy, but questions him. Where are his parents? Does he live here? Can the boy get something to eat?

Time passes by faster now. Jason is thirteen years old and celebrating a holiday with his new guardian. The fireplace crackles merrily and a beautiful tree of ornaments glistens in a corner. He loves the new skateboard he has gotten but is overall overwhelmed with the generosity and wealth of Bruce Wayne.

Then comes the pain. The endless pain of metal striking against his head again and again. Jason tries to crawl away on his hands and feet but the sickly face of the Joker appears again, ruthlessly torturing Jason in a slow terrible death. The sight would make even the cruelest of men weep. Jason whimpers like a wounded kitten and weakly says, "I don't want to be loved if it means losing someone you care about."

His eyes close and his head drops to the side.

The Dark Knight emerges from the shadows and grasps the boy's wrist. No pulse. He presses Jason's head to his chest, holding him tightly as if he can restore life to the boy only by a father's embrace. Jason does not wake up.

I force myself to dissolve his anger, to make it one with me and remove his pain. But he stubbornly clings to the memories because they only fuel his purpose. I am pulling long thin shards of glass and thorns out of his soul.

"You have a chance to live again. Go back to them, Jason. They will forgive you, if only you try."

My hands come to his trembling face and I remove the red eye mask. Only then do I release Jason of the soul self and it dissolves back into my body. His knees are shaking as he comes back into the world. His face is pale. His eyelids flutter twice before opening. There is lightning in his eyes now; white bits of lightning that illuminate the blue within.

And illuminate his fear.

Jason touches a hand to his face and recoils when he realizes what I have done. "You, you're playing mind tricks on me!" he accuses with a pointed finger at me.

This is not the result I had prayed for. "I was not trying to deceive you, only to bring forth your conscience. It speaks the truth."

"W-What?"

"You care, Jason. There is still goodness inside of you. Just let go of your anger, just once, and you will be with family again."

His face has gone from resentment to curiosity. His mind remembers kindness. He takes a step forward towards me and for a split second, I see his hand reach out to me.

But then a shadow casts over his face and Jason retracts his steps.

He does not want to bare his fears before me. He loathes feeling vulnerable. He wants to be without mercy or emotion even if it calls for terrible consequences on his soul. The backlash will hurt the most of all.

Jason staggers backwards away from me. "Leave me alone! All of you, just leave me alone!" he roars in fury.

He hurls the helmet at my feet and it goes off in a thunderous explosion. I'm engulfed in a wave of smoke clouds, almost tearing from the fumes. I wave my arms to fan the smoke away and it disperses like a phantom, leaving me to gasp between coughs.

Now I am the only one in the alleyway.

"Arashi no naka o kakenukete

yume ga mienai Dark Night

hitoribotchi o dakishimenaide

ikazuchi yo hashire anata no moto e

soshite tsutaete

We believe you

ichiman boruto no

We believe you"

Running through the middle of a hurricane

In a completely dreamless dark night

Don't worry, we're with you. You are not all by yourself

Thunder and lightning, run away to you and they will explain

that we are all here for you,

We believe you

Let ten thousand bolts say it,

We believe you

-Makoto's Star Single

The cemetery was wide and vast, the howling winds chilling the very air between iron gates. The steady cold drizzle of rain didn't ruin Bruce Wayne's immaculately combed hair nor stain his tailored suit but it did leave an impression on his mood.

He gripped the handle of his umbrella and pulled his collar up a bit. Booted feet walked silently until they halted in front of the large white tombstones of his parents. Bruce rested a hand on one of them and started to talk.

"I remember asking you if I was doing the right thing," he began. "To know if I could lose myself in an endless chase to save the city but still be worthy of being called your son. I swore in your memory to eradicate the city of the crimes that took your very lives."

Silence.

"It was different once I took in Dick Grayson. He was bright and friendly. And suddenly, I felt like there was a family residing in the Manor again. I wanted to keep family alive for your sake."

"I misjudged him and the others. They were much stronger than I expected and they fought with more valor than I credited them for. I had to let them go on their own ways. But I am proud of them, all of my sons."

"One of them is angry with me and I can't blame him. I brought him here, I gave him the costume to wear. My own downfall was underestimating his feelings. Everyone I know has lost someone they love. But Jason was so poor, so alone and fierce, that he had nothing to lose-except his life."

"Now I understand what terrible pain a parent must feel when his child loathes him".

"If I have ever caused you grief or shame, please forgive me. I never meant to dishonor you. I only hope that he can forgive me as well. Father…I.."

Bruce pleaded and fumbled for the right words.

"Father, I'm sorry."

He stood there a long time watching the rain slide off the tombstones in silvery sheets. At last, Bruce turned around and left.

No more than ten minutes later a drenched young man ran into the graveyard. His boots were stained with mud and his hair was plastered across his forehead. He finally came to a halt in front of a large statue of an angel with clasped hands. Below it was a grave: his own.

He slammed a fist into the granite base and cursed when the pain registered in his knuckles. The hand retreated into his jacket where he tried to nurse it by holding it.

"I thought I could see a better world, but I was wrong," he said aloud. "Bruce hasn't changed and neither have I. We'll never see things the same way."

His throat had become unnaturally tight and hot. "Have I really made a terrible mistake? Is this why I had to come back?"

For the first time since he had returned, Jason wished he really was dead.

He rested his back against the stone pillar and slowly slid down until he was sitting up against it, back pressed to the base. The young man wrapped his arms around his legs and pulled his knees into his chest.. His faced dropped to his kneecaps as the vibrations of rain beat a steady drum on his head and down his back.

A streak of lightning sizzled across the sky, turning it pearly-white for a moment. Jason blinked in response as the entire graveyard was lit up in blaze of green and gray lights. Then came the sonic boom of thunder and everything plunged back into darkness.

He heard a strange sound drifting across the haunted grounds like a mournful foghorn and it frightened him.

It took Jason a moment to realize what the sound was. He was crying.

Heaving sobs escaped Jason's throat while tears mingled into the rain. In a cracked voice he cried out, "Father, I'm sorry."

END