New chapter! I had a lot of fun writing this story, and I'll be updating frequently. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
Chapter 2
My eyes shot open before it went off. I looked around in panic as the memory came flooding back to me. The realization hit me like-well, a crow bar.
'I died. I died and they buried me…I'm…I'm in a graveyard. I just fucking dug myself out of my own grave…that…that's my headstone.' I thought as I looked back to where I had just come from. I pushed myself up and moved over to it. I ran a finger over the letters of my name…I had died. So what the hell was I doing alive? I looked back to the Manor. It was silhouetted against the night sky. The rain still fell and wind still howled. I was cold and hungry, I was in pain and my head was pounding against my temples. I needed to get home…I was…I was afraid. I tore away from my headstone and moved as fast as I could, which wasn't much more than a glorified limp.
I hobbled out of the Wayne family cemetery and up the gray stone walkway to the Manor. I scaled the fence on the east side of the property and walked slowly the rest of the way to the house. As soon as my feet touched the ground inside the fence, I heard a distant alarm go off inside the house. I watched as lights flooded the manor through the window. I didn't care. I made it to the front walkway, but was still a long way away from the house. I saw the front door open and a silhouetted figure standing there. I couldn't tell who it was from the distance I was at, but I knew that whoever it was wouldn't be able to see me in the dark as I was wearing a dark suit. I continued my slow walk. I was tired and out of breath…I was weak. Why the hell was I weak? How long had I been dead? I heard voices that I recognized well.
"Should I call the police, sir?" I heard the accented voice of the old butler. Alfred…He'd have a cow when he saw me covered in mud and walking up the walkway like a zombie.
"No. He's probably gone by now." Came the voice of the man of the house. Bruce Wayne himself, my father. My savior…I needed to get to him. "Tim…see anything on the surveillance?" He asked. I waited for the voice I knew would follow as I hobbled up the walkway.
"Yeah…I think…I think I see someone coming up the walkway…But I'm not sure. It's too dark." Tim replied.
"I'll look, Father. Pennyworth, bring me my sword." Came the annoying voice of the demon. Damian Wayne. Ha. The little shit.
"Chill out, Damian. You're not going anywhere." I heard the voice of the acrobat. Dick was there too….he was supposed to be in Bludhaven. What was he doing here?
I continued my walk, speeding up ever so slightly. After my long, torturous night, I was so glad to see them.
"Show yourself, coward, or face the wrath of my sword!" Damian screamed. He was such an idiot. And I was no coward.
"I see him, Bruce." Tim said. I could see all five of them standing in the light.
"I, too, see him, Master Bruce."
They had all dropped to a whisper.
"I'll get him…" Damian muttered. I saw someone grab his shoulder and pull him back inside. They all stepped back hurriedly and shut the door. My heart sank. Why were they running away? Why were they leaving me? I walked heavily the rest of the way to the door. I could see someone peering through the window, but I couldn't tell who it was. I contemplated just walking through, but for some reason, I knocked instead. I waited a moment, but there was no answer, so I knocked again.
"Just open it." Came a muffled voice from behind the door. A moment later, a thin beam of light slipped onto the porch as Alfred showed himself.
"How may I help you?" He asked pleasantly. He squinted into the night trying to make out my features.
I never thought I'd be happier to see the old butler. I couldn't make my lips form words though, and I knew I'd probably be attacked, but nonetheless, I drug myself in without a word. I just wanted in out of the cold, I needed food and water…A hot shower and some clean clothes. I needed to go to sleep. I was so tired. I was so confused. I saw Dick to my left holding a metal rod, Bruce was next to him with something that looked like it belonged next to a fire place. Damian and Tim were standing near the couch armed with other various household weapons. Damian had a butcher knife, and Tim held a decorative sword from the wall. I stepped into the light and barley missed Dick's swipe at me.
I turned to face the five men without a word.
"Good heavens…" Alfred said as he took in my appearance.
"Leave this residence now, or face the wrath of Damian Al Ghul Wayne!" Damian shouted. I looked at each of them in turn. They all looked at me like I was a total stranger. I was afraid…Not of them, but because they all looked afraid of me. I turned around and looked in the mirror on the wall. What I saw there took my breath away. I looked like…well…death, no wonder they looked afraid. My hair was all matted with mud. I saw a white streak in the front. My face was covered in cuts, mud and blood, not to mention there was a shadow of stubble along my cheeks. I was soaked from the rain, and my formally white dress shirt was soaked with mud and grass. My coat was torn and also looked a wreck. I could still see some of the bugs crawling around in my hair and on my clothes. I looked down. I wasn't wearing shoes or socks, and my pants were torn and bloody. I looked at my fingers in the light. My nails were gone and I had wooded splinters sticking in my skin. My hands were coated in blood and dirt. They were shaking uncontrollably, from cold or fear, I couldn't tell. I turned back to everyone. No one had moved from their place, but they all looked thoroughly disgruntled.
"Get out of my house." Bruce growled as he took a menacing step forward. I stepped back in turn, wrapping my arms around myself and trying to find my voice, but nothing came out.
Dick held out a hand and pulled Bruce back, looking at me with pain filled eyes.
"No way." He whispered as he dropped his makeshift weapon and stepped up to me carefully his eyes darted around taking in every detail of my face. I didn't move as he reached a hand up to my face and swiped my hair out of my face and gently slid his thumb over a cut on my right eye brow.
"Are you crazy, Grayson?" Damian asked.
"Shut up." He said without taking his eyes off of mine. I couldn't take it anymore. I fell into his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist. Dick caught me, and we both fell to our knees. I fucking broke down right there in front of everyone. My brothers and my father…I was a total wreck.
"What on earth is going on?" Alfred asked exasperated as he shut the door.
The others put their weapons down and watched us.
"Jason…What the hell?" Dick asked. He pulled me gently to my feet, I was grateful for it; I was too weak to stand on my own.
"Jason? Look at me." Dick said gently. I wiped the tears from my eyes and raised my head up to him strongly.
"Holy Hell. It is you." He whispered.
"Who the hell did you think it was?" I asked in attempts to bring back some of the dignity I had lost.
"Todd?"
"You bastard!" Tim yelled as he dropped his sword and lunged at me. I didn't even bother defending myself. I knew I couldn't anyway, so why bother? He sent a punch to my jaw as we rolled around on the floor. I was too weak to fight back, so I just rolled with the punches as they came to me.
"Tim! Stop! What the hell are you doing!?" Dick yelled as he tried to pry Tim off of me. Bruce came to his aid, and together they managed to pull the strong young man off of me. Was he always that strong?
"How dare you!" He yelled. "You bastard! How could you do this to us, you dirty hobo?" He screamed at me.
"What?" I asked in genuine confusion.
"Who the hell are you?! And what the hell makes you think you can walk in here like this and screw with us! Who the fucking hell are you?!" He screamed as he thrashed about in Dick and Bruce's arms.
"I don't uh…" I mumbled quietly.
"You're an imposter who came here mess with us! How dare you! After everything we've been through! You filthy street rat!" Damian yelled at me as he held Tim's sword to my throat, "Get. Out." He said darkly.
"Guys, stop it! Leave him alone." Dick said as he walked over to me and helped me up off the floor again. I rubbed my jaw where Tim had hit me and pulled away from Dick, turning my attention instead on the kind old butler.
"Alfred. Could I please have some water?" I croaked as I looked at him earnestly.
He hesitated before walking off cautiously. There was an awkward silence as we stood around. I avoided the death glares of the two youngest in the room.
"Dick…Help me….I can't undo the buttons." I said meekly as I gestured to my filthy shirt. I wanted more than anything to get it off. Dick stepped up and swiftly unfastened the buttons and helped me out of the shirt. I looked down as larva fell off my body and onto the oriental carpet. There was a sharp intake of breath from Bruce as he stepped up to me, leaving Tim behind him. He placed a finger on my chest near my shoulder and ran his finger down a scar all the way to my bellybutton. I turned to the mirror and saw what he was looking at. A pale white scar in the shape of a Y graced my chest and torso.
An autopsy scar. Only dead people got those…I really had died…and that right there was enough to scare the hell out of me. There were other scars too. Some I remembered, and some that looked like the end of a…a crow bar. Burn scars snaked across my chest and over my arm from the explosion. The wounds had healed…but how? My left arm was thin, like it had never been used. The muscle had deteriorated to near nothing, it resembled the arm of a young child. My right arm looked as it always had save for the scars put there by the crow bar. I had been dead, apparently…dead people don't heal. I shuddered at the memory, ashamed that I thought Damian and Tim had buried me like that. I turned back to the men in the room just as Alfred walked in carrying a tray of water and bread. Oh how I loved bread. His eyes were wide as he placed the tray on the table under the mirror. I smiled at him thankfully as he stepped back cautiously. I reached for the glass of water. It was very awkward as I stood there and drank it down noisily with everyone watching in shocked silence. I set the empty glass down on the tray and picked up the bread, shoving it in my mouth like a heathen. I swallowed it, grateful to have something in my very empty stomach.
"What happened to your arm?!" Tim asked in shock, seeming to forget about not knowing me for the moment.
I shrugged as I tested it by lifting it up and down. It hurt, and it was a hell of a lot more difficult than I had thought it would be. I had no strength in that arm.
"Todd?" Damian asked.
I looked at him a moment before answering.
"What?"
"You're supposed to be dead."
"I know."
"This has to be a dream…" Tim muttered.
"It's not." Dick said as he smiled at me, "this is too real. You're back…You're really back."
"This is impossible." Bruce said.
I shrugged. "Look…can I please…just go lie down?"
"Absolutely not." Alfred said sternly. "There is no way you are lying in a bed like that."
"If I take a shower…can I?" I asked. I sounded like a little kid begging for a cookie before dinner.
He gave a jerky nod.
"Do you have any injuries?" Bruce asked. I could tell he wasn't convinced it was really me. He didn't trust me. Not like he ever really did, but this was different. He wanted to believe it was me, but logic convinced him otherwise.
"Honestly…I don't know. My hands are….mutilated." I said as I showed him my fingers covered in blood and splinters. Bruce walked up to me and took my left hand in his to inspect it.
"Who are you and where did you come from?" he asked seriously, "What the hell happened to you?"
"It's me, Bruce. It's Jason….I just fucking dug myself out of my grave…The Joker…he killed me, didn't he?" I said the last part absently. "He blew me to hell." I said quietly as I pulled my hand away.
"To hell and back is more like it." Tim said. I cracked a smile.
"Yeah." I said as I turned and made my way to the grand stair case. I knew exactly where I was going. I needed to take a shower…I needed to get this death robe off of my body.
"Who is that?" Alfred asked. I scoffed. They still didn't believe me…
"I don't know, Alfred. But I intend to find out."
"Are we just going to let this guy walk through our house like that?" I heard Damian ask.
"No. Dick, watch him." Bruce ordered.
"It's Jason, Bruce. It has to be." Dick mumbled hopefully as he ran up the stairs to me.
"Come on." He said as he came up beside me. "I think there's some clothes that might still fit you." He said as we walked down the familiar hallway to my bedroom. It was just as I'd left it. Minus all the crap in the floor, and the bed was made, the carpet was vacuumed, all of the drawers were closed, and everything was neat. Alfred must have attacked it. How was I ever going to find anything? My posters were still up, though. And my desk with my computer, my dresser still had everything on it. It was only missing one thing, however. There was a small picture of me and my parents that I had sitting on the mirror….it was gone. That was my favorite picture…and it was gone. Dick rummaged through my drawers and pulled out a black tee shirt, some boxers and black sweat pants for me. He handed them to me and ushered me to my bathroom. I stepped into the crystal clean room and looked up. I never really noticed the chandelier in there before…Why was I acting so melancholy about this? I closed the door and stripped off my clothes. I turned the water on as hot as it would go and grabbed a washcloth from the drawer. I got in and hissed as the scalding water hit my skin. It hurt. I watched as the blood and dirt and bugs swirled down the drain.
I lathered the cloth with soap and scrubbed every inch of my body, effectively removing at least 3 layers of skin. When I was satisfied with that, I grabbed the bottle of shampoo and emptied at least half of it onto my hair. I scrubbed my scalp unmercifully, uncaring what the abuse did to my fingers. I scrubbed to the point of pain before letting the lather wash out. I emptied the rest of the bottle into my hair and repeated the process. I did the same with the conditioner and let that rinse out. I stood under the water, only turning it off when it ran cold. I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to dry off with before wrapping it around my waste and wiping the steam off the mirror. I looked so much better despite my red skin. No more dirt or bugs. My cuts were clean and were healing quickly. I watched as the cut Dick had touched earlier healed itself in a few minutes. I could hardly believe my eyes, but then again…what was there not to believe right now? I'd just come back from the fucking grave. I wasn't wrong when I said there was a streak of white hair over my eyes. It was strange. It was only a clump of hair right in the front. The rest of my hair was still the dark brown it had always been. I tore my eyes away from the mirror and searched for a razor and shaving cream. Ten minutes later, my face was clean shaven and I was getting dressed. The last thing I did was brush my teeth for ten minutes and effectively disinfect it with Listerine. The taste of dirt was still faintly there, but the taste of death and larva was gone, which I was grateful for.
Dick and Tim were both sitting on the bed when I stepped out. Bruce was standing against the wall and Damian was sitting in my desk chair. Alfred walked through the door carrying another tray of food and a pitcher of water. I ignored everyone and went straight for the pitcher. I didn't bother with a cup but instead drank right out of the pitcher. When it was empty, I set it back down.
"Thanks, Al." I said as I picked up the roll on the plate.
I walked over and sat on the foot of the bed, glancing at the clock as I did so. It was 4:47 AM. Good thing the bats were used to long nights…
I nibbled on the bread as I waited for someone to break the silence. When no one did, I swallowed the remainder of the bread and looked at each of them in turn.
"Look, guys…Can we…can we do this awkward silence thing later? You wouldn't believe how exhausted I am." I asked trying to keep the irritation and cussing out of my voice. They all looked around at each other with silent communication. Bruce gave me a gentle nod. Alfred left the tray and shut the door behind them all. It was relief when they left, but I found myself wishing they hadn't gone. I was…lonely. I needed them.
You're being stupid, Todd. I told myself. They aren't going anywhere.
I shook my head and slid under the sheets of my bed. It was firm, just the way I liked it. It didn't take much convincing to get myself to go to sleep, but when I did, it was a peaceful, dreamless sleep. Just the way I liked it.
Please leave a review, and please smile at strangers, you might just make their day. Can you imagine? What if you see someone walking into the store, and that person had been having a horrible life. Maybe they even planned on going home to kill themselves? Then, what if you smiled at them and changed their mind? What if they see that smile, and they're just like, 'You know, that person has a reason to smile...that person has a reason to be happy." and then you make that person happy, and they choose not to go home and kill themselves? A smile can change lives. Just smile, guys. Just love each other. :)
and leave a review. :) :) :)
