"Tell me who did this," Jason blurted out in a rush, before he could stop himself. His mind swam violently with horror and disbelief, vision going white at the edges. He felt like he was going to be sick. "Tell me who did this to you!"

Rocket quirked an eyebrow at him. "Uh, you really think I'm that stupid?" she asked sardonically. "Second I tell you, your ass'll be out the nearest Zeta-Beam in a heartbeat, to go an' cut him into a million itty-bitty pieces of ex-boyfriend. And I'd sort of like to have you actually be present for the christening, and not, you know, in jail."

"This isn't funny!" Jason screamed at her, unable to see straight, to think. His mind kept screaming at him, This can't be happening, not to Rocket, not Rocket. "Tell me who did this to you! I'm gonna castrate him!"

He didn't realize he was hyperventilating until Raquel put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Easy, Robin, easy," she said gently. "It's not how you think."

Jason's eyes stung. "He hurt you," he mumbled unhappily, staring down at the ground.

To his surprise, Rocket laughed. "Well, I'm not going to deny that he's a damn fool," she said, her voice fond in a nostalgic sort of way. "But then, so was I. All we can do now is roll with it. But I promise you, Jason: everything that happened between me and him was completely consensual."

He could tell by her voice that she was being sincere. She wouldn't lie to him about this—not about this; it was too painful, too personal. Jason nodded wordlessly without looking up, not quite trusting himself to speak.

"You still oughta tell me who it was," he finally mumbled out after a few moments had passed.

Rocket gently tipped his chin up from the floor to look at her. "I'll tell you some day, Little Wing," she said with a friendly wink. "That's a promise. But for now, it's my secret, mmkay?"

Jason was having none of it. "You wouldn't keep it a secret if I didn't know him," he accused stubbornly, surreptitiously wiping some dust out of his eyes with one hand. "Is it someone that we...y'know, work with?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "What? You think it's someone on the Team?" she asked, sounding amused.

"Is it?" he pressed. "Was it Aqualad? Or even—oh god, no, please no, did that asshole brother of mine—"

Raquel smirked. Jason's stomach plummeted.

"Don't tell me," he said faintly. "FUCK, that motherfucker, I should've known. 'Always use a condom' my ASS, I'm going to kill him—"

Rocket began to laugh at that, hard. "No, no it's not that," she gasped out, wheezing for air. "It's just, that's the first time I've actually heard you call Nightwing your brother. I thought it was kinda sweet!"

Jason scowled. He told himself that he only refrained from hitting her because she was pregnant. "Tell me I at least get to be godfather," he grumbled.

"Sorry, little man, Icon's got dibs on that one," she said apologetically. "But, tell you what. You can be Amistad's favorite uncle. That work alright for you?"

Jason, barely, managed a smile. Kid was probably better off not knowing his biological father anyway, he reasoned. Jason certainly would have been.

And Rocket might have been just out of high school, but she was damn sure going to be a better parent than most of the ones he'd known about growing up. Certainly better than his own. Raquel would actually take care of her kid, not the other way around. She wouldn't beat on him, or abandon him, or lose herself so far in drugs she couldn't remember he even existed. Amistad would never have to beg on the streets, or steal, or turn tricks for some jackass pimp just to have the money he needed to eat.

"Yeah," Jason said softly, nodding. "I guess that works."

(He never got to meet the baby.)