River of Crystals

Disclaimer: The characters and universe of Red Hood and Supergirl are owned by DC.


It was raining in Hong Kong. There were few sights left in the world that he could still find beautiful without feeling a pit of depression inside of himself. Every beautiful sight he'd seen had been tied in some way to a memory that would make him feel less than alive. The sight of the rain being lit up by neon lights as they cascaded over the streets was one that was familiar to him, but this wasn't Gotham. He could look upon this without getting all those conflicting feelings that he got whenever he looked at the city that he was born in, the city that felt like a million heartbreaks and the end of all dreams. Whenever he looked at the city he didn't have to be reminded of why he was on the other side of the planet. He could simply continue to down the expensive imported alcohol that he'd procured from the drug smuggler he'd toppled that night and not think of the reason why he couldn't put a bullet in the scumbags face.

Rain was good for forgetting about your problems. When he was little, the rain and thunder blocked out all the other sounds of the city, all the screams of rape victims or the cries of junkies that had one sober moment to realize what had become of their life. He needed this rain tonight more than others to forget about that face that was haunting him. He needed to forget about the sun. He needed more whiskey from the cabinet in the hotel room kitchen.

Slowly, he strolled into the kitchen without a care in the world as he reached into the open alcohol cabinet that was well stocked. As his finger tips touched the glass of the bottle his cell phone began to ring from the bedroom. In the back of his mind there is a feeling of dread as the jingle of his phone is silenced by the push of a button. For a second he thinks to immediately hang up because he knows from the second that he pushed the button that it wouldn't be Talia on the other line calling to see how he was doing like a mother hen. He knew that there was only one other person who could possibly have that number, despite how much he paid for that person to not get his number. Despite the feeling of foreboding in his body, Jason brought the phone up to his face to finally answer.

"Bruce," was all Jason said. There were more words that he could have said, but the only one he could get out was that.

"I told her about you and where to find you," replied Bruce Wayne, the man who was once Jason's world. The man who Jason would have personally reached through the phone to tear to pieces for what he just admitted to. "She'll be there in ten minutes so I suggest you get yourself decent."

"You had no right to tell her about me," said Jason with a snarl as he felt that familiar anger being offset by the panic he felt. He needed to run, to get his things together.

"I'm not going to let you be a ghost anymore Jason," said Bruce and he could feel that familiar fatherly tone coming back to Bruce. "I should have told her about you from the moment I even thought it was you. I remember back when I was pushing you too hard, back when we were starting to drift apart. It was ten years ago, you remember right?"

Jason did remember. He remembered the fiery streak in the night sky of Metropolis that heralded her coming, the panic in Bruce's voice as he tells him to keep his distance and the golden hair flowing before eyes that held the deepest blue that they could have been the ocean of the Universe. He remembered that he loved and had been loved.

"Did you tell her I'm not the boy that she knew," asked Jason as tears began to form in his eyes. "Did you tell her that boy was still dead?"

"I told her that boy needed help finding himself," replied Bruce. "If you run now she's just going to chase you down. I suggest you get dressed, three minutes have gone by."

Jason's initial reaction was to throw the phone at the wall and jump out of his window to get a head start, but he resisted the impulse. He'd been running for while; he'd been running since Bruce had uttered those words, "what would she think if she saw what you'd become." It hurt to think about those words, it killed him to think about the answer. It also killed him not knowing the answer. He wasn't going to run anymore, but he didn't want her seeing what he looked like just yet.


She was actually two minutes early. Luckily, it only took Jason two minutes to get suited up and prepare the balcony. He didn't have enough time for a smoke though, but she'd have probably given him that same look she did when she caught him smoking. The worst thing about being a smoker was the guilt non-smokers give you. He definitely didn't want that same worried/chastising look to cross her beautiful face and it was a beautiful face. God did he forget how amazing she looked, especially when she just floated up in the night sky silhouetted by the neon lights of the city. Those eyes that held the warmth of the universe looked down at him and he could tell that she was trying to look under the suit to see the man underneath.

"I keep lead in all of my suits," said Jason, his voice distorted by the helmet's microphone output. "I…I don't know how much Bruce t-"

"He told me you were alive and that you'd been alive for quite some time," she said as she descended down to the balcony. From the way she crossed her arms to the tone of her voice he could tell that she was not happy with that fact and that he should have put more armor on. "I was told that someone I loved didn't tell me that he had comeback from the dead after the days, months, years since his death that I mourned for him."

"The one you loved didn't come back from the dead," said Jason. He sighed as he sat at the table that rested on the balcony of his hotel. "I didn't tell you I was back because I didn't want anyone to know I was back. I didn't even want Bruce to know that I had returned from the dead until he was so close to tracking me down. You wouldn't be getting Jason Todd back; you'd be getting a stranger wearing Jason Todd's skin."

"Is that why you put a mask on," asked Kara and she was suddenly closer than Jason wanted. She was so close to his face and he could feel her hands on the mask, sense the warmth of her fingers through the cold metal. "Why are you hiding from me? Why are you afraid to let me see you?"

"This is my face now," said Jason as he ran a hand over the cold metal of the mask. "This is the face that I chose for myself so that I wouldn't be reminded every time I look in the mirror that I'm a walking corpse."

"So you hate being reminded that you're Jason Todd," she asked as she gripped the helmet a bit harder now.

"I hate being reminded that I used to be Jason Todd," he retorted, pushing her hands away from the mask. He felt the loss of warmth as it was replaced by the familiar chill. It was like losing the sun He'd been without the sun for a while. "I hate waking up in the morning and feeling that gust of air in my lungs when they shouldn't work. None of me should work and yet here I am. And the worst part is that I don't know if this will last. I don't know if I'll wake up tomorrow or if I'll be put back to rest in my coffin."

She didn't say anything at first. She just placed her warm hand on his chest and he remembered what it was like to have the sun again in his life. He remembered what it was like to feel warm inside, to feel the promise of hope for tomorrow and oh dear God did it feel wonderful to have all of that back in his life.

"It does work," she said and he realized that she was talking about his heart. "Do you remember love?"

"I do remember love, Kara," he replied and he realized that it had been too long since he had said her name. He remembered how lovely it tasted on his voice and he remembered how wonderful she tasted. "I'm forever haunted by it. You wouldn't understand."

"Why won't you let me try?"

"Because you're the Sun," he replied. "You shine your light on all the world and the world should be grateful you exist just because of all the warmth you bring to it. Men like me, we're like the moon, we can only reflect the light you give to us and it's the only good we have. The longer we bask in your light the more of our darkness you expose. From the moment I first saw you floating out of the wreckage in the bay I thought of Aphrodite rising from the waves, but now when I look at you all I can see is Dawn stretching out her golden hands like Homer once spoke. You wouldn't understand what it's like to feel so less than nothing, but wanting to embrace the very essence of the Universe and yet you're nothing but heart break and tragedy."

"I remember what you looked like in the casket," she said and once again she was very close to him, her hands had gripped the mask and he could tell what she was going to do. "That is the last memory I have of your face and here you are denying me the chance to erase that image from memory. There is so much warmth in your heart and I know it because I'd lie on your chest at night to listen to your heart beat."

He felt the mask start to dent at the areas she was gripping in and he knew that she was going to rip it off of him. Powerless to stop anything, he gently grasped the sides of her hands before slipping his fingers into the parts of his mask that would release from the hold to the rest of his suit. The air kissed his face as the mask was gently removed, as if it were those fine China dishes that Alfred only took out for special occasions. For the longest time he didn't allow himself to open his eyes, worried about what expression would cross her face if she saw him now. Unshaven stubble framed his chin and the scar that he'd gotten from one of Batman's gauntlets. The softest, warmest hands that he'd thought he'd never feel again caressed his face and he gathered up the courage to look into her eyes.

She looked as the familiar bright blue eyes flash open for her and all she could see was that same hurt boy that she had fallen in love with. There were dark circles under his eyes, darker than they had been before he died, and she could tell that he was still kept up by his death. He had grown since the last time she had seen him, but there still so much of Jason Todd that had not changed. Kara raised her hand to touch the white streak in his black hair. She had heard about the Lazarus pit that Ras Al Ghul used, but whether this was from the pit or his resurrection she couldn't tell. What she could tell was that her Jason was hurting; her Jason was a man still buried underneath the tragedy of his life and waiting for someone to dig him out.

"I love you, Jason Todd," was all she said before her lips captured his in a familiar embrace that made her feel warm and safe. She felt how warm he was, despite everything that he felt. "You still feel warm like my Jason. Your heart is still filled with love like my Jason. No matter what, you'll always be my Jason and I'll always love you."

She felt his arms wrap around her in a warm, passionate embrace as his lips met hers in a deep kiss that brought out a fire in her soul that she had thought she'd never feel again. Her fingers dug into the leather of the jacket that he was wearing that still reeked of gunpowder and cigarette smoke. He tasted like the popcorn from the old movie theater in Gotham that they'd go to sometimes to watch the old movies that Jason loved. He tasted like that champagne that he once sneaked out of the cabinet in the manor to share with her on a romantic evening. He tasted like breakfast in Belgium, in a small café from the hotel that they had stayed at after Jason decided to spend some time away from the manor.

Each kiss was needy and deep as each tongue wished to rediscover a lost treasure. The rain picked up again, but the two were lost in the desperate need to rekindle a fire that had grown dim like a candle on a grave. They threw wood on that fire and then poured gasoline so that it would roar to life. They trailed the fire back into the hotel room; she took the lead with ease as her strength lifted the both of them back towards the television area where two wet bodies came to rest on the couch. Before she could hear the sounds of protest from her lover she removed the jacket and with her speed pushed up the charcoal black shirt he'd put on.

The pit fixed most scars that he'd gained from death, but he'd gained more from the hard life he'd lead from his awakening. In that moment he became self-conscious and didn't like the pained looks she made when her eyes scanned his body. He felt her face press into his chest and he felt something grow within his heart like he was the Grinch that stole Christmas. Warm tears streamed down his chest and his heart cried out at the knowledge that he'd made her cry with his ugliness.

Kara could only wish she could wipe away all of the scars with her tears and with it wipe away all the pain that Jason had been forced to endure in his life. She loved a strong man, but she also loved a man who life continuously spat on. The shift in his posture told her that he felt uncomfortable and she felt ashamed for making him feel self-conscious about his scars. To reassure him of her love she kissed the scar that was right over his heart.

"You don't have to be afraid to show me your scars," she said as she rose from his chest to his ear and whispered, "I'll be with you no matter how many scars you get. I'll kiss every last one of them."

"You're an angel of mercy," he said as his bright blue eyes poured into her soul with all his new hopes and dreams. "Ever since I came back, I've had no soul. When you look at me I feel like I'm alive and I want there to be a tomorrow and a day after that. I love you, Kara, and no matter how many millennia pass that will always be true."

"Please don't ever leave me, Jason," she said as her arms wrapped around him and they laid back on the couch.

"I won't," was all he replied.

The neon lights lit up each individual drop of rain that fell down in the late hours of the night in Hong Kong. Each dazzling light illuminating the now dark room that they held each other in as both stared out at the light show that felt like it was only for them. They'd stay there for the next few days before Jason would get the courage back to return to Gotham, to start anew again except this time he'd do everything right. He'd finally gotten his soul back and he would try every day to be the man that she deserved to be loved by. As they slowly drifted to sleep, Jason Todd finally allowed himself to feel something that he hadn't felt in so long. Happy.

End


Author's note: Shout outs to someoneonthisite for suggesting this. And thankfully I dragged out writing this till Valentines Day. Yay procrastination! Also this title is in reference to a song that I listened to while writing it. I hope this is actually enjoyable to read i had a hard time writing this to where I didn't feel like it was melodramatic garbage, but I fear it might be so please tell me if it is.