Title: Burning
Summary: He could feel the scars burning. Knowing full well that it was ghost pains, Jason treated them anyways. At least when he treated them, the burning didn't hurt as much.
Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, mentions of Damian Wayne and a little mention of Bruce
Pairings: None, really, but there is brotherly Dick/Jason
Set Right After: Beginning of Batman and Robin #11 (after Dami leaves the crowbar in Jay's house, fights him, and leaves)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, all is property of DC.
Headcanon (from incogneat-oh on tumblr): Not all of Jason's scars were erased by the Pit.
Jason swore under his breath, ignoring the damage done to his apartment for the moment. He could deal with that after the scars. Any time one of them started burning (which was not saying it happened often—it didn't), treating them was his first priority once he was alone. Ghost pains or not, treating them usually made the burning less painful than it was when he didn't.
"So much for 'nothing for the next few hours'." He dug through one of the drawers until he found a small, cylinder-shaped container with a piece of paper taped to it that simply read 'Burn Ointment'. There were other, officially-labeled containers in the drawer, but Jason knew they were empty. As a general rule, he tried not to get rid of too many of them at once. Old paranoia didn't vanish overnight. Anyway, there weren't that many empty ones…
Slipping off his jacket, he pulled off his shirt and numbly started treating the scars. His little dip in the Lazarus Pit hadn't erased all of them. Most of them were faded, less evident than they no doubt would've been if it weren't for the Pit, but they were still there. Scars would always cover his upper body; he'd accepted that fact a long time ago. That being said, it was more convenient…easier, really, when he could ignore them. Jason knew that it was ghost pains, but he didn't care. Treating them made it easier to trick his mind into thinking the actual wounds were being treated rather than just the faded remains of the injuries. The burning usually went down then. That was what mattered.
Now if getting the cackling out of his head were that simple, things would be so much easier.
Yeah. Like his life would miraculously become simple. Jason would check himself into Arkham Asylum the day that happened. He just kept treating the scars, ignoring everything until he heard the persistent alternating between tapping and knocking on his window. He looked up and gave a small, irritated sigh, but motioned below the window, indicating that it was unlocked. From outside, Nightwing lifted the window open and slipped inside. "You're late," Jason said, his back to Nightwing as he pulled on his jacket and zipped it up. He wasn't done treating the scars yet, but there was no way he was going to let the older bird see them.
"Sorry. I would've been here sooner, but…well, what night is there not trouble in this city?"
Jason turned to him. "Golden Boy, you could at least come up with a half-decent excuse if you're going to lie," he said bluntly. "No matter what the demon does, you don't have it in you to slam him anywhere near as badly as he deserves. Not even to make a point."
"How much do you want to bet on that?" Nightwing's eyes were narrowed at something past Jason. Glancing over his shoulder, the younger swore. The crowbar was still laying out in plain view. That simply, the scars started burning again. He didn't let himself react, didn't allow any of the pain to reach his expression, acted like it didn't feel like the beating and explosion crammed into one instant that was his personal hell. There was no way that Nightwing was going to see him react like that to the crowbar. Forget it.
"I don't need you to deal with it. I've got it."
"Jay—"
"By the way, it's kind of impossible to make a point about teamwork without a second person around," Jason added, purposely cutting him off before he could start on the worrying. "You might want to try a little harder to show up on time when you're supposed to. I stalled the kid to give you more time, and you still missed him."
"There actually was trouble," Nightwing said with a slightly sheepish grin. Jason rolled his eyes.
"Making a point to Damian that he can't be 'the best Robin' without teamwork was your idea, or did you forget that part?" Nonetheless, Jason wasn't so much annoyed at Nightwing as he was that what Damian had said and done was actually getting to him a little.
"You failed you… He gave you one simple order, and you couldn't follow it." Like the little brat knew everything just because DaddyBats was his biological father rather than adopted.
Nightwing watched him silently for a moment. "You want me to get rid of that?" he said finally, motioning behind Jason. Wearing his heart on his sleeve as always, fury radiated off of him without him saying a word about it. While the older bird's reaction was nowhere near as strong as Jason's had been or Bruce's would be, that didn't mean he blew off the crowbar as nothing.
"No." A smirk started to tug at Jason's lips. "I'll give it back myself. Don't think DaddyBats will be too happy about his little bird playing with a crowbar."
Torn between smiling and sighing, Nightwing settled on a half-shrug. "If that's what you want," he said nonchalantly, knowing Jason would make sure Bruce saw him give Damian back the crowbar. After all, Bruce's reaction to it would definitely end with a lot worse punishment for Damian than either of them could ever try to make it. "Do you want help with the burn ointment?" Nightwing said, softer.
Stubbornness flashed to life in Jason's eyes. "No."
"Jay…"
"I told you, I've got it." Jason was used to fighting to hide the pain from the burning. It was having someone nag about it that was new, and he had no desire whatsoever to adjust to it. The scars were his issue; no one else got to deal with it but him.
"Drop the tough attitude, Jason." Nightwing met his eyes. "For crying out loud, you're my little brother. I get to worry and fuss over you."
"I don't need the burn ointment, anyways." Jason's jawline was set stubbornly.
"Of course not. I'm just being an overprotective big brother." Nightwing had watched Alfred treat them all and been taken care of by the Brit enough times. He knew to go along with whatever the other person said to make himself feel better and take all the blame as the overprotective 'just to be safe' person; it was a trick Alfred had used on him many hundreds of times. "Just take off your jacket and let me at least look."
"No!"
Nightwing sighed. "Don't make me pin you down and cut the jacket off," he said in a pained tone. "You do know I will." Jason glared at him, but he finally did as he was told. One of Nightwing's hands clenched into a fist, fully realizing for the first time how many physical scars Jason had from that day. He forced himself to relax, took the burn ointment, and applied it. Silence filled the air, with Jason determined to pretend it wasn't having any effect on the burning and Nightwing trying to keep from getting angry that Jason hadn't once said anything about all the scars. The older bird had always assumed that the physical scars weren't there anymore, erased when the Lazarus Pit revived Jason, and he'd figured that was what Bruce believed, too. The hero wondered now if Bruce knew—not because Jason had told him, but because Bruce had a way of knowing everything and being too thickheaded to realize half the stuff he knew.
"You're using too much." The accusation was quiet. Jason's voice was tense, trying to act like the burn ointment really didn't help. Nightwing couldn't help a small smile.
"No such thing as overdoing it." For a few minutes, the brothers slipped into silence.
"Think so anymore?" Jason spoke up again when the container was empty.
"Yup." Nightwing had seen where Jason got the ointment from. He got up and pulled open the drawer, unfortunately not surprised to see several containers for burn ointment with the seal broken on most of them. Bullheaded, prideful Jason had probably gone through millions of these and most likely wouldn't even admit it to himself. He didn't say a word, though, only dug through until he found one that wasn't empty and went back over to Jason, opening it and returning to applying it. "…Does anyone else know?" he finally had to ask, finishing applying it.
"No." Jason put his shirt back on, pulling the jacket over it. "And it's going to stay that way, got it, Golden Boy? It's my issue; I'll deal with it."
"…I won't tell anyone," Nightwing promised reluctantly. But he also mentally swore that not telling anyone didn't mean he was going to leave it to be Jason's problem alone. He was going to make sure he would be there for his little brother. "And you're welcome, by the way," he added, a teasing note adding to his voice.
Jason rolled his eyes. "I didn't want your help, Nightwing," he pointed out.
"Out of curiosity, how were you planning on reaching the scars on your back?" Nightwing was definitely teasing him now, but the more serious look hadn't left his eyes. He might tease about it to try and lighten things, but he was fully aware that the scars were no real laughing matter.
The younger bird didn't bother responding. He was more focused on pretending that the burning wasn't down to embers. As much as he acted tough, Jason was grateful to his older brother.
That didn't mean there was any possibility of him saying that aloud to Nightwing, though. He had a bit too much pride for that.
A/N: *bites lip nervously* I really hope I got characterization right and all of that…please review and reassure me if I'm going to get any peace of mind! (Or at least be nice about telling me if I didn't get the characterization right or messed something else up.) This headcanon was just a pure gem (as are all of incogneat-oh's), and I wanted to upload it here as well as tumblr, so I did. *nervous smile* Please review!
