Notes: Ok so I decided to take liberties with the timeline XD I hadn't thought about it earlier because, well, the fic didn't request it.

Technically, when Jason came back, Bludhaven exploded. I decided he would have been back earlier, just so Dick could still be in Bludhaven.

Just so you know, I'm not sure yet about who is Robin between Tim and Damian; we'll see about that later.

I hope you'll like the chapter :) Not as intense as the previous one, but then, it can't always be.

Chapter 4

Jason knew he had issues. It was kind of obvious; and while not being a freaking genius like Barbara or Bruce, he wasn't an absolute idiot either, thank you very much. So, yeah, issues. He had them. And he actually made sure a select few stayed well in place.

Some of his deepest ingrained reflexes came from hard learnt lessons. They ensured his continued survival.

Even those couldn't turn him into a cold-blooded machine, though; which probably was for the best. It was what still differentiated him from the men he put down.

And what make it hard to deal with some cases.

The prostitute had agreed to help him because she wanted a better chance at life for her son. Not that Jason could provide that. Yet, she had insisted on going through with the plan.

'It's not just about what I can do for him', she'd said. 'It's about showing him that there is more to life than survival.'

So she had gone and seduced the dirty bag who figured himself a new Falcone, keeping her eyes and ears open.

She'd been a strong woman. Unfortunately, it wasn't the kind of strength that made one bulletproof. They had discovered she was giving information to someone – and had struck, not without cleaning out most of the operations she'd known about, making her sacrifice mostly useless.

Thank god, they hadn't known about her child.

"You can come out, now", Jason said softly, his eyes scanning the living room. "The bad men won't be coming anymore."

She had given solid instruction to the kid: stay hidden, do not trust anyone. But it had been hours. It had taken time for Jason to hear about what had happening, and some more to find her corpse. He'd killed all the henchmen who's still been around.

Then he'd headed for her flat.

"Please come out now, Charlie", Jason insisted without raising his voice. He hesitated, then added, "I'm afraid I have bad news."

The kid had been told to stay hidden, but he was too young to really understand what was at stake. And even a child would recognized this specific tone.

Something moved under the carpet: a trap opening. Now that he knew what to look for, Jason spotted the wire which allowed one to roll the carpet over the trap while being inside; it was a clever trick from a clever woman.

Damnit.

Little Charlie emerged from his hideout, his face pale. Despite the tears that wetted his cheeks, he hadn't made a sound. He'd been brave.

Being brave didn't always make a difference.

"Mom?" The little boy asked in the broken voice of someone who knew what was coming.

"I'm sorry", Jason confirmed. "She is dead."

There was no way to soften that kind of announcement. Using euphemisms often made it worse, because people kept hoping they weren't getting it right until they heard the actual words. Not coming back. Gone. Yes, I do mean dead.

The boy sobbed.

"Mommy… Mommy!"

Fuck this. Fuck everything.

What was Jason supposed to say? 'Everything is going to be alright'? That would be the worst lie ever.

He put a hand on the kid's head.

"She's gone," he declared truthfully. Then, "She won't be in pain anymore," he added, because he remembered.

The child sniffed, young enough for his eyes to be hardened yet, to be filled by hope at Jason's words.

"Promise?"

"Promise," Jason confirmed.

The kid sighed then, tears still pouring on his cheeks. Gotham CPS might find a good family for that one. Or he might end up in a low-range family who only cared about CPS money and merely ignored the children. That would still be a blessing, compared to other situations.

Jason grit his teeth. Or he could just drop the kid at Martha Wayne Foundation. Bruce would know he'd been brought in by Jason, and however infuriating the man was, he would make sure to find a good family for the boy.

Jason would owe him; he hated that. But little Charlie other options didn't look good.

Jason's helmet was way too big for the kid, but it was better than nothing while riding a bike. At least, wearing Red Hood's red hood seemed to distract him a bit. Jason didn't stay at the Foundation for long; it tasted too much like wasted chances. Besides, it was better for the kid not to cling to him of all people.

He went back to his bike, starting the engine to quickly drive away.

Dick had moved back to Bludhaven. And why would his brain even think of him? It had been three months since that night, and Jason had made sure not to cross path with Dick again. Not that he'd felt threatened but – who was he trying to fool? Of course he'd felt threatened. One didn't just waltz into his personal space while making it comfortable.

As a matter of fact, Jason stuck to casual sex specifically to avoid those situations. No one knew his face under the mask, without his gear he was anonymous. Being just that one guy from that one night kept things uncomplicated. His life was messy enough as it was.

Yet here he was, wishing Dick hadn't left yet.

It seemed his issues hadn't made him strong enough.

He accelerated, cursing mentally, trying to concentrate on the bike movements. He suddenly wished he'd left his helmet to the kid, so he'd been able to feel the wind on his face. Maybe it would have distracted him from his need to fucking scream.

Or he could just turn left, then right, then follow Moses Boulevard right to the highway. The city faded into slums as he circled around Gotham's bay, trying not to think too hard. In a few minutes only, he found himself driving under a road sign welcoming people in Bludhaven – and wondered what the hell had gotten into him.

He took the exit, following the curve of the road, going a few more streets into town before pulling back.

Fuck. What was he doing there? What did he expect? For Nightwing to just show up because he'd arrived? (Now, that would be worrying. Dick hadn't managed to put a tracker on him, had he?)

Worse: had he intended to track Nightwing down himself, like a loving puppy? He snorted at the thought. Right. His heart was full of sun and butterflies. Obviously.

Yet here he was.

He fired a line, then looked around to find a high rooftop from which he'd been able to see the city layout. He'd studied maps, but he'd rarely come in person – the city was Nightwing's.

To think there'd been a time when he had never got out of Gotham city itself. It had taken Bruce adopting him for him to travel occasionally. It had taken Jason dying for him to really start going around, mostly thanks to Talia.

Jason made sure not to be spotted from below, moving carefully. Considering how Dick was currently working at the BCPD, he wouldn't miss the reports of a guy with a shiny red helmet scaring people off.

Jason settled on a skyscraper to scan the city underneath; even non-Bats like him felt more comfortable on a vantage point. Bludhaven looked like Gotham at her worst. As much as Jason loved his city, that wasn't a compliment.

He could understand how that would appeal to someone from their world. The place looked like it needed someone to give it hope. It could certainly use a vigilante to clean up the mess. However, would it be enough? It had taken Bruce to get Gotham's figurative head out of the water, and as much as Jason resented the man, he couldn't deny his skill, nor qualify his will as anything else than unbendable. Besides, Bruce hadn't worked alone. Batman had Robin.

Dick was a strong person. He certainly had skill, and will. But Bludhaven looked like the kind of city which could break a man.

The prostitute's lifeless face appears in Jason's mind, making him shudder. Sometimes, being brave wasn't enough.

Coming to Bludhaven. What an idiot. He walked to the rooftop's edge and jumped. Ten minutes later, he was back on the highway, heading for Gotham.

###

He went back. It wasn't really in hope for crossing path with Dick – in fact, that became increasingly true. Riding to Bludhaven became a way to detach himself from his problems in Gotham. Somehow, physically distancing himself from the city helped, even just by crossing the bay.

Besides, seeing how Gotham had improved compared to Bludhaven made him feel better. Bludhaven was the Gotham from his childhood, before the Bat, before hope had started being an option. Jason could only wish that Bludhaven would follow the same path, with time.

Then, the fifth time he climbed on the tall skyscraper, a black and blue figure dropped on him.

Jason rolled away by reflex; stopping thinking about Nightwing hadn't meant he'd dropped his guard. No blow followed, surprisingly. Instead, Dick glared at him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sightseeing," Jason replied. What did Dick think he was doing in Bludhaven?

Then a horrible thought occurred to Jason. He didn't think he'd come here chasing for him, did he?

"It's the second time in as many weeks," Nightwing insisted.

So he hadn't spotted Jason earlier. His hold on the city was weaker than Jason had assumed. But then, considering its state, he shouldn't be surprised. Had Nightwing's influence been any stronger, the place would be improving already.

"And you didn't greet me the first time? I'm offended," Jason mocked.

"What do you want, Hood?"

His menacing tone suddenly stopped being funny. What was he assuming Jason was up to no good? He wasn't a damn criminal! And he hadn't done anything in Bludhaven. Nor was he a lovesick puppy whining for attention!

Then again, Jason had to admit Nightwing had reasons to be wary, regardless of whatever steam they'd blown together those few times. Jason didn't stick to their sacrosanct rules. He had worked as a criminal in the past. From a Bat's point of view, he was the enemy.

Despite all he'd sacrificed for their common cause, despite dying. It wasn't enough. It was never enough.

Jason bolted forward, not caring about grabbing a weapon first, just bare fists aimed at Nightwing's face. Dick parried – being too direct meant being predictable – and tried to kick him away. Jason didn't bother dodging, merely blocking the leg with his arm, reaching for his throat.

Unchanneled anger was useless against a peer. Dick diverted his blow, using Jason's momentum to lock his arm in a painful key. Jason growled at him, teeth bared. Dick only strengthened his grip.

"Do you want me to dislocate your shoulder?"

Jason kept struggling, until Dick's grip got tight enough to force him down on a knee. Despite the pain, Jason couldn't fight back a laugh.

"What are you going to do? Follow daddy's example and throw me in prison? I'd say it would only give me better access to local criminals but, honestly, here I could just shot random people in the street with the same odds of getting someone who deserves it."

Dick shook him, forcing Jason to clasp his mouth shut not to shout from the pain.

"Shut up!" Dick yelled. "I don't care what you do in Gotham but you're not screwing around in here! Things are bad enough without you…"

"… giving a hand?" Jason interrupted before he could stop himself.

Dick blinked, startled enough to relax his grip – though not enough so for Jason to break it. Then he snorted.

"I don't need your kind of help."

"Really?" Jason challenged. "Because this place really look like it could use it. You've been here what, nine months? You and the city both seem ready to collapse."

"Says the one who has just been beaten."

Jason kicked Dick in the foot, straightening up as Dick lost his balance. In a second, he had him on the floor, his knife under Dick's throat. Then he stared.

"I just tripped you."

Dick glared.

"You're Dick Grayson, and you just lost your balance," Jason insisted.

"Shut up."

Jason was actually starting to worry. He'd supposed Dick's nervousness back in Gotham had been caused by a situation there, but he'd been back in Bludhaven for weeks now. And he looked worse.

"You shut up. How many hours are you working a day?" Jason realized out loud. "Aren't you a cop or something in addition to Nightwing?"

"Don't start like Bruce," Dick snapped.

Jason just looked at him.

"B. and I are agreeing on something and you're still protesting?"

"I don't need help! I'm perfectly capable of handling myself."

Didn't that sound familiar? Well, damn him. He was a big vigilante. Jason wasn't his mother.

Not that any of them still had one.

Jason pulled back his blade.

"I like it better when you're bossy," he commented. "Wanna fuck?"

Dick blinked, a laugh startled out of him.

"Isn't that subtle and romantic."

"Don't tell me you like it better when I punch you," Jason mocked, half serious.

Dick raised his eyebrows, relaxing in a position nothing short of sinful.

"What if I do?"

Jason bent over him, and bit.

They didn't make it to a flat this time.