Authors' Note: Remember that bit in the summary about contrasting light and dark? This chapter has some significant dark spots in it. We will bring back the light, I promise.
Warning for character death.
After getting Kala settled, Lois went back to her own bed, sliding under the covers into the pocket of solar warmth that always surrounded Kal-El. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, and she snuggled in. Despite being fully capable of taking care of herself, she had always felt so safe and sheltered in his embrace.
They laid in the silence, just savoring their bond, but she knew he would ask. Finally, he did. "How is she?" he murmured against her hair, trying to hide his concerned tone and failing miserably, as always. Especially when it came to his namesake.
Lois sighed, knowing Kala might be awake to hear them. Then, too, she also knew that Kala would know her father would worry with the way she'd arrived. Their little girl wouldn't fuss over this. "Honestly, I think she's handling it pretty well, to all appearances. But she's hurting and I know she's trying to hide to what extent. Jay acted like an idiot over the hover earlier, from the sounds of things, freaked out at her over it. She thinks there's more to it than that, though. He might've broke it off for noble reasons – but she has about as much tolerance for that as I do."
As anxious as he was over Kala, she felt him smile at that, just a hint of amusement in his voice when he spoke. "Which is almost none. As it should be."
She nudged him at that, smiling a little also. "Mm-hmm," Lois agreed.
A pause, in which she knew he was considering something, and then he asked, "Do I need to worry about you sneaking over to Gotham and shooting him?"
Lois couldn't help a laugh at that; he knew her so well. "Depends. Do I need to worry about you flying over there and lasering off his manhood?" One sardonic dark brow ticked up at that.
His expression at the question was priceless. "I would never do that," Kal-El protested, but then he admitted, "I would like to ask him what he thought he was doing, but I don't think that conversation would go well."
Lois had seen a handful of times when Kal-El needed to be intimidating. He didn't do it often, but he did it extremely well. Red Hood or not, assassin trained or not, Mr. Jason Todd might find himself needing a change of underwear if Kal-El let any of his anger show.
"Much as I might want to, I'm not gonna go kick his ass either," Lois said. "It sucks when they grow up, and you can't swoop in and save them from everything anymore."
"The things we have to save them from aren't as clear-cut as they used to be," Kal-El replied ruefully. "Remember that goat at the petting zoo?"
Lois chuckled. Her twins had been about eight, and they'd been to the Kent farm plenty of times before. The petting zoo at the fair seemed safe and familiar, and they'd both gleefully rushed to get a small cup of pelleted feed for the animals. Except, Lois had insisted on going early in the morning before the crowds got too intense, and the animals had been very eager for their first customers of the day. One goat in particular heard the rattle of pellets, and had snatched the cup out of Kala's hands, eating all the food and the paper cup too. Lois had only just been in time to pick Kala up before the hungry goat started on the ribbons in her hair. Her growled, 'Back off,' seemed to transcend the species barrier, and the rest of the visit went without any unexpected caprine robbery. Kala had been upset at the theft, Jason just complained that Lois had scared away the sheep he was petting.
After a while of reminiscing, Lois said, "I think this might be the first time Kala's ever been dumped. Her breakups have always been mutual, or her idea."
"It must hurt even worse, then," Kal-El replied. "I don't know, I was never popular the way both twins were."
"You should've been," Lois chided gently.
"I was very awkward. Kala takes after you; she's at home everywhere." He kissed her shoulder, his nose warm despite the chill air.
"I wasn't always this smooth, hero. I just learned to fake it really well." She let out another quiet sigh, relaxing back into his arms.
"You certainly had me fooled," he told her, and Lois let herself bask in warmth and love radiating from him.
…
Steph blinked, her jaw aching, her head throbbing. She started to sit up, and felt her wrist caught in something. Looking down, she saw the cuff, tethering her to a pipe in the wall.
It all came back then, Cass kissing her, and then darkness. She'd gone after her mother alone, just like Steph had feared, and it wasn't enough to knock her out. Cass had left her hidden in this storeroom and chained her to the wall like a misbehaving dog to make sure she couldn't follow. Steph trembled, biting her lip to keep from screaming in rage and fear and frustration. So help me God, Cass, I'm gonna kick your ass for this if it's the last thing I do. Shiva better not kill you, but I just might.
She felt for the lockpicks in her belt, and they were gone. Cass was damn smart, and thorough. But Steph's lip curled up in a savage grin. This was her Spoiler uniform, and after the last time she'd been cuffed to something, she took a few more precautions. Everyone looked at the utility belt for toys, but Steph kept a second set of lockpicks sewn into the seam of her sleeve. It was the work of seconds to yank them out, and then deal with the cuff around her wrist.
Free, she set out to stalk her girlfriend. Steph was too angry to think about the consequences, and she figured the best place to start looking was the Lazarus Pit itself. Cass had looked at it with horror and sick fascination in her eyes; maybe Shiva felt the same.
She found the two of them there, engaged in battle that almost froze her heart to watch. Cass had her collapsible staff out, and Shiva was slashing at her with a katana. The slender blade was incredibly swift, almost faster than Cass, and even as Steph watched they came up against the side of the catwalk. For a moment, it looked like Cass had her pinned.
Then Shiva ducked and swept the sword at Cass' feet, calling "Still holding back!" in tones of disappointment. The next cut of her blade would have beheaded Cass, if she hadn't leaped over the railing – only to catch it and swing back to safety once the sword passed.
Steph couldn't help a yelp of dismay, and both fighters looked at her. Cass' eyes were hidden behind the Batgirl cowl, but her whole body cringed, and she cried out "No!"
Shiva took a step back from her, looking down at Steph – literally and figuratively. "Go home, little girl. You have no place here." And saying that, she attacked Cass again.
The sheer contempt would've brought Steph to tears – in the past. She'd been disdained by better people, and she shrugged off Shiva's dismissal with a growled, "Go fuck yourself, lady." Steph charged the stairs to the catwalk, hearing Shiva's guards come in behind her. They didn't matter – Cass did.
"Spoiler, go!" Cass insisted, and then gasped. She'd taken her eyes off Shiva for an instant when Steph reached the catwalk, and the older woman's sword had just sliced her arm.
Shiva shook her head in what looked like disappointment. "People like us cannot afford attachment, Cassandra. It ruins our focus." Saying so, she bore in.
"How about you kiss my ass?" Steph snapped, pulling out her escrima sticks. "We've heard all the Zen bullshit from Batman, and frankly, he's better at it than you. So either fight, or shut your face." She had to be aggressive enough to get Shiva to focus on her, even for a moment or two, and then Cass could take her down. This was exactly the situation she hadn't wanted to be in, but damned if she'd back down from it now that she was here. Steph never had learned how to quit.
The sword moved like quicksilver, striking sparks from Cass' staff … and Shiva whirled with terrible grace to meet Steph's charge. She wanted to pass, Steph knew that, if she could get both girls on the same side of her they'd only interfere with each other. So Steph pulled up short, the sticks blocking high and low, and managed to hold off the sword. Barely.
"You're injured," Shiva said, putting her back to the railing, the sword dancing from one side to the other. "You don't even have full range of motion in your right arm. What are you doing, child? What can you hope to accomplish?"
"Go," Cass said pleadingly. "My fight. Not yours."
"Your fight is mine, you stubborn ass," Steph growled. "And you can bite me, Shiva. I don't have to beat you." She just had to slow her down.
Shiva jumped up, catching the guy wire and spinning around it, and the way she meant to come down would put her on Steph's other side. So Steph lunged to get around her, hitting the ground and rolling, bringing the sticks up crossed to fend off the slashing blow of the sword.
Cass groaned, the staff sizzling through the air, and Steph regained her feet to see that Cass had moved fast enough to force Shiva to engage her instead of striking at Steph. She grinned, the old hellfire grin that came all the way from Crown Point. Shitty odds, yeah, but that didn't mean she had to let the bastards grind her down. No matter what, she'd stand, she'd fight, and even with her old injuries and her pitiful lack of training compared to these two, she was good enough to keep Shiva's attention split. Sooner or later, there'd be an opening.
Shiva knew it, too. She moved in toward Cass, the sword barely missing her arm, and Steph lunged in with her sticks, trying to press her. One good hit, that's all she asked, this was Cass' fight for sure but if she could get in one good hit she'd have Shiva off-balance…
She was aiming for the back of Shiva's head and the middle of her spine, figuring she could dodge one stick but not the other, and to Steph's surprise Shiva didn't turn to face her. Both sticks landed, on her shoulder and ribs, as Shiva lunged backward toward Steph. She didn't understand why Shiva would choose that option, although it did lessen the force of both hits…
Searing, jolting pain in her chest, Steph tried to gasp in surprise but that hurt even worse, and Cass screamed. Steph took a wobbly step back, and felt an awful sliding slicing pain, unlike anything else she'd ever experienced. Some manic part of her brain reported that it wasn't quite as bad as a cordless drill, but it wasn't exactly a kiss on the cheek, either.
She stood, blinking, as Shiva moved forward and brought the sword around in a deadly arc, its blade now bright red, shedding droplets of … oh. Blood. Her blood, in fact. The pain in her chest was the katana slipping out of the wound it had just punched neatly between her ribs, all the way through her.
Everything seemed to be in slow-motion as Cass threw herself aside, the blade missing her by inches – not missing, a new gash on Cass' shoulder, and to Steph's infinite surprise she saw Shiva shake her head. "Weak," she said, and her tone was sorrowful. Wasn't that ridiculous? Wasn't life ridiculous?
Steph had survived everything Crown Point could throw at her, she'd run as Spoiler and Robin and Spoiler again when Bruce and Tim and everybody told her to quit. She'd survived Black Mask's sadistic attempt to break her. Shit, she'd rescued herself from that before he could kill her, and built a life for herself despite permanent injuries.
All of that, and she was going to die here in a cave in Libya, thousands of miles from home, not because someone hated her, but because she was in the way.
"Fuck that," Steph tried to said, but her voice slurred and a gout of blood ran from her mouth. No more quips, then, if she was gonna die here, she'd better make it mean something. She blinked, her vision blurring, and saw Cass striking savagely at her mother, the attacks deflected easily. She couldn't let that go on.
Steph put every ounce of her will and determination and yes, even that stupid blind hope that everyone always said would get her in trouble, into a final lunge that Shiva wasn't even guarding against. She brought one escrima stick around with all the strength left in her body, and it cracked loudly against Shiva's unprotected side. Shiva flinched, falling aside, her eyes going wide – she hadn't thought Steph had it in her, she thought one little stab was enough to kill off Spoiler. Fat chance. She was made of tougher stuff than that, and she'd spent her life teaching other people not to ignore her the way Shiva just had.
Steph smiled with blood in her teeth, a smile that Jay would've recognized the feel of, and spat defiance at Shiva. "You don't get to win," she told her, voice trembling and hoarse.
"Stephanie," Cass said, her heart breaking in the tone.
One good hit. I wanted one good hit, and I got it. Steph grinned fiercely, even as Shiva set herself to counterattack, and spoke to Cass. "Take the bitch out for me, Batgirl." As last lines went, it left a bit to be desired, but Steph found that she didn't mind. A lot of 'small stuff' suddenly didn't matter anymore. She was fiercely glad to have scored that last blow, sure that Cass would finish it now.
Then Shiva was kicking her in the center of her chest, and she flew backward, darkness rising up behind her eyes.
…
London. Jay was in London, he felt like death because he'd damn near died, and he'd wake up soon to the news that both Bruce and Joker had lived. Right back here again, falling away from the biggest disappointment of his life and about to run face-first into another rude awakening in a couple months. Jay retched, nausea twisting through him, and instinctively turned on his side so he wouldn't choke on his own spew.
Just as instinctively, he reached under the pillow for the gun he knew would be there. Talia might've been using him, but she knew he'd never be far from a weapon.
Except the gun wasn't there, this wasn't a hospital bed in a London flat, and with that realization he managed to claw his way out of half-remembered dreams. Of course, that meant facing reality, and it wasn't much better.
Jay woke up feeling like trash – like actual, bagged up and left to stink in a dumpster garbage. Which was appropriate, he supposed. He'd just done the worst, most low-down awful thing he'd ever done in his life, hurt the one person who least deserved it. It all had to be for the greater good, though … and he gave the ghost of a chuckle, wondering if this was how Bruce thought, how he rationalized all of his shitty choices.
Sitting up, Jay immediately realized he wasn't on the dusty floor of the abandoned building he'd crawled into after shattering K's heart. He was lying on a sofa, with a quilt over him, and a slight sting in the bend of his arm turned out to be an IV that ran to a bag of fluid tacked up to the wall behind the sofa. His guns and knife were on the coffee table nearby. No wonder he'd dreamed of London, the last time he'd felt this awful and had woken up with an IV in his arm had been back then. Plus, of course, the acrid taste of failure in his mouth, that was very familiar. Jay blinked, but he knew who it had to be this time. Bruce would have him down in the Cave, Babs would have him in one of the ground-level rooms of the Clock Tower. Only one person would turn his living room into med bay.
"Oh good, you're awake," Dick said, striding into the room. He had a glass of water and some pills, which he offered to Jay. "Take these for the headache, and see if you can keep them down. The IV doesn't come out until the catastrophic puking stops."
"Catastrophic, huh? Feels like it," Jay said, his voice sounding rusty. He swallowed the pills and drank the water slowly, his stomach churning, but nothing came back up.
Watching him, Dick nodded with satisfaction. "Good. When I'm sure you're not going to die of cirrhosis, we are going to have a talk, Jay. Until then, I'm keeping you alive, 'cause you're not doing a real great job of that right now."
Jay winced, groaned, and laid back down, pulling the pillow over his head. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk, and the last person he wanted to talk to was Dick.
With a huff that managed to sound scolding, Dick left the room, and Jay dozed uneasily for another hour or so. He woke up again when Dick came back in with some bland salted crackers. Jay ate them, even though they were basically tasteless, and his stomach didn't lurch. Dick seemed happy about that, and took out the IV, bandaging the site carefully. "Now go shower," Dick said. "I sponged the worst of it off you, but you stink. You'll have to wear something of mine when you get out."
"Great bedside manner there, Nurse Grayson," Jay rasped out. "Don't spare my feelings at all."
"Just because I love you enough to take care of you doesn't mean I have to be nice when you're a self-defeating idiot," Dick shot back.
Jay glared at him, or tried to, but he had to squint in the light. "Whaddya think you are, my girlfriend or something?" he complained.
"No, you don't have one anymore, see self-defeating idiot," Dick retorted. "Now go take a shower or I'll drag you in the kitchen and hose you down at the sink."
Grumbling, Jay went and took a shower. He got a good whiff of himself taking off his shirt, and decided he couldn't blame Dick for bitching about the smell. Lots of cheap scotch, sweat, bile, and body odor made an especially unlovely combination. Jay scrubbed it all away with Dick's citrusy body wash, and stepped out to find a set of sweats on the edge of the sink.
The fact that he hadn't even noticed the door opening was proof that he was really not operating at peak performance right now. But then, after yesterday, anyone who expected the Red Hood's deadly efficiency was going to get a big surprise. This was just Jason Todd, perpetual fuck-up.
He dressed, feeling marginally better, and went out braced for a confrontation. Instead he smelled food, following his nose to the kitchen, where Dick was making grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Jay's mouth began to water immediately. When was the last time he ate, anyway? New Year's Eve?
"Think you can keep this down?" Dick asked, and Jay said yes even though he wasn't quite sure yet. His stomach started to growl, and they ate in silence, Jay consuming the sandwich in four bites, Dick dipping his into the soup between nibbles. All of the food stayed down, and Jay could feel warmth and comfort suffusing him. It brought back memories of the good days of his childhood, before his mom got sick, when she'd make him soup and sandwiches and they'd eat at the table together.
Dick put the dishes away, then came back, sitting down and looking intently at Jay. "Okay. You're rested, you're clean, you're fed, you might still be a little drunk but you're not blackout blotto drunk. Your liver isn't trying to crawl out of your navel and run away from the sheer amount of freaking Old Smuggler you put in your body. Now you can tell me what the hell happened with you and Kala."
Jay groaned. He knew this was coming. A shower and clean clothes and a meal were just enough to soften him up a little, and hearing her name hit like a fist to the gut. All of a sudden, the tasty soup went sour on him, and Jay grimaced as he fought to hold his gorge. "The hell makes you think I owe you an explanation? She's not your daughter or your girlfriend," Jay grumbled.
"No, she's my friend. And for the last few months she's been basically part of the family, at work and after work. So tell me what happened. You two were adorable, suddenly it's over." Dick crossed his arms and glared at Jay.
He wanted to stalk out, or toss something at Dick's face. But the fact that Dick had found him in a bad enough state he wasn't even aware of being picked up and brought here … Jay couldn't quite cut loose on him. "Look, it's over, that's all you need to know," he said harshly.
"Nope, not good enough," Dick said, starting to get frustrated. "What happened, Jay? You told me you loved her!"
"I told you what you wanted to hear," Jay snarled back. "The last five months have been a one-night stand that went on too damned long, that's all."
"Bullshit," Dick shot back, and he didn't curse very often. The vehemence in his tone rattled Jay just a little. He really was out of sorts, if this was getting to him. "You're a good liar, Jay, but not that good."
"Well fuck you if you don't wanna hear my side of it," Jay spat, pulling anger over himself like a shield.
Dick's mouth thinned to a hard line. "The whole reason you're here is to tell your side of it. I've already heard hers, and her heart's broken."
"She should've known better than to go have feelings for the Red Hood," Jay said, acid creeping up his throat. "No surprise she went running to you. You've been up my ass about her from the beginning – still mad at yourself for not hitting that in the limo? Didja take the opportunity to get a little rebound action? She's one fuck of a lay, I'll give her that much."
He knew what he was doing, even if he could taste bile from how wrong everything he'd just said was. If he could make Dick angry enough, the questions would stop and the shouting would begin, and eventually he could storm out of here without needing to lay his own heart bare. Also, maybe if he kept telling the same cold heartless story, he'd be able to make himself believe it, too. Maybe then it would hurt less.
Dick slapped the table, but he didn't get up the way Jay half expected him to. "If you weren't half-dead I'd knock you out for that," he thundered.
"You could try. Even half-dead I'm more than a match for you, and you know it," Jay shot back, goading him. If this turned physical he'd have an even better reason to leave.
Dick sneered. "Yeah, the way you are now, I'm not even threatened. If I was, I'd tell Kala you said that, and let her throw you into the ocean. You stupid, scared little boy."
Jay hunched his shoulders, realized he was doing it defensively, and made himself lean forward instead. "Watch your mouth, Dickie-Bird. It's real nice how you're willing to believe her over me."
"No, you watch yours," Dick retorted. "I believe her because I ran up on the damn Empress. After whatever went down with you two, she slunk off to hide for a while. And then when the whole East End blew up in riots – which you didn't even notice, you were too dead drunk – she came out hunting Joker's men. We're all damn lucky she didn't decide to kill them. You're lucky the Empress didn't decide to punch your clock in the bargain."
Jay's entire body flashed ice cold, then the back of his neck heated up with a kind of flush that spread down his shoulders. He'd only ever felt like that when he was in serious danger, when a bullet had just narrowly missed him or he'd detected a car bomb seconds before getting in. This time, it wasn't about the threat to him. He couldn't blame K for hating him, that was the point of everything he'd said to her. But he meant for her to leave, to get out of Gotham and stay safe from all the madness here.
Instead, she'd gone hunting it. With the Empress in control, and she was even more sure of herself and more reckless than K was normally.
Obviously she hadn't been hurt, Dick would've been throwing punches by now, but it was almost worse to think K might've killed someone. Another reason for getting her away from him was the realization that her association with him was making her more bloodthirsty. K had always loved a fight, but Jay knew she'd kill for him, and Joker was in her sights. He also knew how easy it was to kill, after you'd done it a few times. K could stop at General Zod, maybe she could stop at Joker too … or maybe she'd just start solving problems his way. He didn't want to be the reason a Super went on a killing spree.
"You're full of shit," he told Dick, his mouth feeling numb as that horrified warmth spread down his back. "K wouldn't kill anyone."
"She would, she did, and we both know it," Dick shot back. "You read her file. I was in Nevada. We know she would. But somehow she managed to convince the Empress to hold back. I guess you managed that much, her control is much better now."
Jay wanted to protest as the icy feeling sank into his gut. Another part of the reason he'd split up with K was because he was seeing the Empress more the longer they were together. She'd come to Gotham to learn control, and he was just putting her in situations that brought out her dark side over and over. From where he stood, it looked like the situation was getting worse – but Dick apparently thought the opposite.
When Jay didn't reply, Dick just went on. "So tell me what the hell actually went down, and why you decided to blow it all up. I didn't get much detail from Kala, she was too busy sobbing. She waited for you, by the way. To see if you were going to take it back."
That was another low blow, and Jay couldn't help curling into himself a little more. He knew Dick would read into his body language, but dammit, this hurt. "No take-backsies. I said what I said, and I meant it. If she knows what's good for her, she needs to stay the hell away from me, and out of this godforsaken city."
"If we all knew what was good for us, we'd hang up our capes, get some serious therapy, and try to live normal lives," Dick said dismissively. "But then other people would die, so we don't do that. She was a helluva lot of help last night, even messed up as she was. Because you trained her really well."
Jay couldn't help a fleeting smile at that, locking it down into a glower. He was proud of how K had come along in training. She was an asset to anyone's team. It was going to absolutely suck not having her in Gotham, but he'd rather her be anywhere else.
Dick crossed his arms again, settling in with a hard stare. "So tell me the truth. Kala's got a theory, that all of this goes back to Joker, something about him putting a target on her. Tell me, if you can stop lying to yourself for a minute. Why would you go and blow up the best damn thing that ever happened to you and this family and this whole city? I mean, half of us were expecting a proposal or something, and we would've cheered! About damn time one of us actually got a happy ending!"
Rage welled up in Jay then. All of them cheering for him, the poor little orphan from the wrong side of the tracks, finally getting his dream girl. What a lovely story for the Hallmark channel, but this was fucking Gotham, and love was always about pain in the end. His mind flashed to K's face as he'd told her she was the problem, the surprise and hurt in her expression, and then the way she'd looked into his eyes when they waltzed. It would've hurt less to drive the kris into his chest. She'd trusted him, more than anyone else in his entire life, K had believed the best of him every single time, and in the end he'd grabbed hold of that trust and twisted it until it broke and shoved the pieces in her face.
Anger and pain pushed him to his feet, looking down at Dick. "Fuck you, what do you think this is, one of your stupid Capespotting fanfics where everyone fucks and falls in love and lives happily ever after with a bunch of kids and a dog? Do I look like I'm planning to buy a goddamn minivan anytime soon?"
Dick stood up too. "Oh shut up, you're just deflecting again. Love doesn't just mean getting married and having children."
"Yeah, sometimes it means fucking your ex with her invitation to your wedding in your bag," Jay fired back.
Those blue eyes narrowed in fury, and Dick clenched his fists. "That wasn't love, that was stupidity. And not being able to trust that anything would last long enough that I couldn't jump at every chance for any kind of connection and affection I could get. Difference is, I'm man enough to admit I screwed up. Are you?"
Jay shoved the table against the wall and turned away. "Everyone knows I've fucked up plenty of times. Hell, that's practically my job in this family, to be the bad example."
"Would you stop that," Dick said, his voice strained. "You're not the bad example, you're not a failure, you're not the black sheep. You're one of ours, Jay, and you're a whole lot better than you let yourself believe."
"The hell I am," Jay spat. "If I was all that great, you wouldn't have to drag me here to detox and interrogate me about breaking up with K."
"No, I have to detox you because you damn near drank yourself to death, and you did that because it hurt you to split with her just as much as it hurt her. So you had to have a reason for doing it." Dick had come closer to him, and Jay could sense him wanting to reach out. He hunched his shoulders, warding Dick away, not wanting to be touched.
"Not everything has a reason, Dickie-Bird. Sometimes people just fuck up. Sometimes the bad guys get away and the good guys get hurt." Jay could hear his own voice growing hoarse, and bit the inside of his lip. In the back of his mind, Robin had woken up and started yelling again, telling him how stupid he'd been to throw away the best chance he'd ever have at real happiness. Telling him if he went to K and told her the truth, if he groveled hard enough, she might give him a second chance.
Jay knew that was bullshit. K was many things, but a pushover wasn't one of them. He'd hit her way too hard. She might never speak to him again, and that was probably best for her. She didn't need his kind of bullshit in her life.
Dick's aggravated sigh was right behind him. "Dammit, Jay, why are you like this? Why do you keep doing this to yourself? I know all about fear of commitment, believe me, but do you have to shoot every relationship in the foot?"
He whirled on Dick then, and it was on the tip of his tongue to unload about Donna. Because Jay knew part of this was about Donna. Dick couldn't handle watching his brother break up with two women he cared about as much as Donna and K. "Fuck you, you don't know anything about any of my relationships, and if you'd quit fucking wringing your hands worrying about me, I'd really appreciate that."
"I know more than you think I do," Dick shot back.
"The hell you do," Jay snapped.
"Donna blames herself," Dick said. "She never gave me specifics, but she sat me down and told me the two of you splitting up was her fault."
Jay snorted. Of course she couldn't give specifics, the breaking point in their relationship had been when she moaned Dick's name instead of his. And her absolute refusal to admit that was what she'd just done. At least she'd finally told Dick it was her fault, not his. "Thought we were arguing about K, not Donna," Jay said.
"Yes, we are, but the past always informs the present. And it's really telling that you can't even say her name, Jay." Dick looked triumphant, like he'd won just by pointing that out. Jay couldn't even say her name inside his own head, it hurt too fucking much. He'd breathed her name against her skin too many times, gone to sleep with it on his tongue and woken up with it first on his mind. Two simple little syllables shouldn't cause so much pain, but even her initial stung every time he said it. Her name would be too much.
Instead of replying, he just took one long step toward Dick and shoved him, both hands in the center of Dick's chest. Dick wasn't prepared for that, and stumbled back, an expression of shock crossing his features. "Shut up! You think you know everything, asshole, you don't know the first goddamn thing about this," Jay roared. The rage and pain pulsed in him, a taste of violence just the release he needed, and he shoved Dick again. The other man braced himself, but Jay had the advantage of height and weight. He dug in his heels and shoved again, sending Dick reeling against the wall.
The words poured out of him like hot bile. "You don't even know that Dent and Joker and Sionis and every other power-hungry fuckhead in this town is gunning for a scalp or two to make themselves look good, and if they can't get me or Bruce or Harley, then Selina or Kala are the next best options! And K's never dealt with these fuckers hunting her! I already had to watch Joker run a knife over her throat, what if it's a fuckin' demon blade next time? What if he had kryptonite? I've killed her in enough nightmares, I don't want her blood on my hands in real life!"
Dick's expression changed to heartbroken sorrow. "Is that what this is all about? You hurt her emotionally to stop yourself from hurting her physically?"
"Leave the pop-psych crap to Dr. Phil," Jay snarled. "I know I'm not actually gonna shoot her. But that's what the fucking nightmares are about. She's here because of me, there's a target on her back because they all know she's my partner, she's in danger because of me. If Joker or Dent or Sionis gets hold of some kryptonite and kills her, it's my fault. Doesn't fucking help that she can't not be what she is. If the choice is between blowing the flight, or letting someone get hurt, she'll take the risk on herself every fuckin' time. Same as jumping ahead of me, putting herself in danger. She can't stop being a Super, and it's only a matter of time before some of the smarter assholes in this town realize that, and start buying up kryptonite. And I'd rather Kala hate me and live, than love me and die." Saying her name was like dragging a fishhook out of his throat, making his voice catch and twist, and Jay swallowed hard as his vision blurred.
"Oh, Jay," Dick said, his voice thick with pity.
"And even after I did it, I got too fucking drunk to watch out for her, and she went hunting the same assholes who wanna hang her scalp off their boss' belt," Jay continued. "I couldn't even do this right. Face it, Dick, I'm cursed and always have been. Best thing you can do is get far away before I fuck up something else."
Dick stepped forward to grab his shoulders, and Jay was so fucked up by letting all of that escape him that he allowed it. He even allowed Dick to give him a slight shake. "You're not cursed, Jaybird. Every bad hand you've ever been dealt, you fought through it. Not even Joker could kill you."
Jay laughed at that, the sound verging in hysteria. "He did, though, he as good as did kill me. I was brain damaged, Dick, I don't even remember that whole year after I crawled out of the hospital. Only reason I know what the fuck happened to me is 'cause Talia kept notes in her goddamn science project file on me." He snapped his jaw shut, perilously close to a whole other set of revelations. Only one person knew all of his past mistakes and heartbreaks.
And he'd driven Kala away.
That realization, one more thing he'd lost, was enough to make Jay's breath hitch. He was not crying, goddamn it. He was a grown-ass man, worse shit had happened to him than a breakup he knew was necessary, he wasn't going to cry about it like some stupid teenager writing bad love poetry over a girl he didn't deserve.
Then Dick hugged him, and it should've been comforting, warm arms around him. But Dick was only human temperature, and Jay had grown used to solar-powered heat. The Robin he'd once been reminded him that he wasn't going to have Kala snuggled up around him in the cold Gotham night, or Kala's soothing voice when he woke from a nightmare. As hard as he'd tried to return to the status quo, to the Red Hood he'd been before a Super flew down in the middle of his investigation, Jay found he couldn't be that cold anymore. He wanted the belonging and safety and care he'd found with her, and he'd been the one who shattered it.
Jay absolutely was not sobbing into Dick's shoulder, clutching him tight as pain wracked his chest. That was someone else, some younger, dumber version of himself, who still believed love was a thing he could keep.
