Clark Kent… did not know that the Court of Owls was a thing. He didn't.
But apparently, they were the reason why Gotham was so corrupt, and were also the reason why he was currently fighting for his life to find Jason.
Jason.
Apparently they also took Dick too, something about his grandfather originally being in the Owls, and them trying to-
Well.
Point was, that was why he and Bruce were working together for this one.
" Clark."
Oh, and Bruce.
" Bruce?" Clark asked. Said human vigilante coughed angrily, spitting up a disgusting mixture of sewer water and blood out of his lungs. The air smelled damp and hot and filled with dust and whatever other disgusting things were in the sewers.
" I'm fine." He said. " They went that way."
He bowled over quickly.
" Come on."
Sometimes, Clark feels like Bruce would be far, far more better a choice to deal with the Court than he is.
The thing is, Dick didn't actually know many of the other sidekicks when he was Robin. He knew Roy, obviously, and met Donna quite a few times, but they weren't really all that close. He saw a lot of them on missions, team-ups, League meetings, when they accompanied their own mentors, but most of the time, it was just Dick, Roy, and on the rare occasion, Jason.
Then he left.
It… it wasn't really a big explosion or anything. Not that much of a deal.
Dick had turned eighteen. He was allowed to go.
And. Well. Bruce.
Dick loved him, he did, guy was like a father to him, but. But. Well.
Point is, after he leaves Metropolis, he starts his own gig in New York. Joins up with Roy again. It goes from there, really. Donna, Wally Garth, Raven, Cyborg, Beast Boy, Starfire…
Starfire.
God, suddenly Dick is angry that he didn't get to meet them all when he was younger, but its worth it, to know them all now, at least.
The less important part is is new name.
Jason suggests things like 'Aether' and ' Butterfly-man' and ' Mothbird' and the thing is, none of those really fit. Not htat Dick isn't amused by the effort.
" Nightwing!" Jason suggests. " Clark told me that- he was a really awesome hero back on Krypton."
" I'm not sure." Dick says, rolling the option off his tongue. It feels.. distasteful, somehow. Like he doesn't earn it. Awkward. Odd. " I don't think that'd work."
Jason pouts for a second, scratching out the name on his pages with a furious stroke. " Well- I guess. I was saving that name for myself, anyways- how about 'Sparrow?"
" Too red."
" Don't know why you're so obsessed with blues- okay, you already said ya didn't like Bluejay or Bluebird, Swallow? Warbler? Tanagar-"
Dick shot up, snatching those words through his brain, rolling them across his tongue and imagining it being said in his ears. " That." he conclued. " The last one- Tanagar?"
Jason gleamed, shooting up. A smile was plastered proudly across his face.
" You like it? I like it, too, it's kinda red, too, but there aren't a lot of bird families that are entirely blue, and they're similar enough to Robins, but bro-" he stopped quickly, clearing his throat. " Uh. They're the second largest family of birds. And they eat fruit."
" Guess that's it then." Dick agrees. He smirks.
Tanagar.
That'd do.
Jason really wanted to be a hero. He did!
All the other kids he knew did it! Sure, Clark gave him training and stuff, basic fighting skills, defense, all that. But it wasn't fair that Dick got to fight without powers, and he didn't.
" You can come with me to watch if you really want to." Clark had said.
Jason had been honored. Superman was viewed as a god among men. He could do anything.
Anything.
So, Jason donned a red mask and combined parts of his halloween costumes and giddily watched his dad sew up different uniforms and pieces of clothing and-
Jason puffed out his chest with pride, perched somewhat precariously on the ledge.
Red Robin was born.
What?
Just because Dick did it first doesn't mean that he couldn't do it.
Even if Dick's eye just seemed a bit uncomfortable when Jason told him about it.
It was nice being able to see Talia more often, in a way. Even if she was working ( sabotaging, technically, but to the public eye- working ) for Lex Luthor. Having actual conversations was hard, what, with the media watching and Luthor watching, and well, pretty much everyone watching.
And Dick was still not talking to him.
Not that Bruce really made any effort to talk to him either, which. Well.
Fair enough.
Superman has a cousin, and there's a moment in which Jason is certain that he's going to be replaced.
He doesn't, of course.
Somehow, that only makes things worse.
When Jason dreams, he dreams of family.
Catherine is alive, his mother is alive, and Willis is, too, but it's a different sort of alive than what Jason remembers.
When Catherine was alive, it was in the way that Jason remembers dirt and nature and buildings as being alive. Abstract, trudging. Suffering, maybe, filled with smoke ringlet hair and scratched up smiles, fashioned from sticks and dirt.
Her hands were pale, hard, calloussed in layers that Jason remembered tracing in his palms himself.
In Jason's dream, her skin is… soft. Soft and gentle, with red, neat nail polish and rouge, sticky, lip gloss, and her hair is puffed and soft and decorated with diamonds and emeralds, running across her skin and throat.
Her clothes are whiter than anything Jason remembers her wearing in his memories.
His father is in there, too. Gold rings and black pressed suits, shiny, jet black, crist and smooth like cashmere, silk green tie and flashing smiles-
Jason has never remembered Willis Todd's teeth as being that white.
He narrows his eyes.
Wrong.
It was all wrong.
When Jason comes to, he awakens screaming, coughing and heaving despite there being nothing in his lungs.
" Jason?" Clark asks, running to him.
Jason groans, dazed. The Fortress is cold and Jason shivers, and from a bit away from him, there's a wreckage and metal tubes and pipes and wires and-
" I-" Jason paused. " I had a dream."
" We all did." Batman confirms darkly.
" It's alright." Clark says. " You're out now."
Jason nodded blankly. He shivered.
It was a dream. You weren't in it.
Superman trains him a lot before he can leave to actually fight crime. He makes him go do classes, too, which is less fun, but he's way too hyped about going on the streets in his fancy new outfit than to worry about anything else.
He's good. Real good.
He's fast, too.
When he goes out, most of them call him Superboy.
He isn't. If he were, he'd be wearing blue and red, not brown.
" I'm Red Robin." He shouts as he knocks down one after another of the criminals in his way. The blades criss cross against his shirt and armor, scratches and dents layering over his outfit.
If he could notice it.
He leaps up against the man, ramming his fists against his face, adreniline pumping.
" Okay! Okay!"
The man shouted instantly. Jason's head snapped up- not shock, not.
His arms felt tired and leaden, and leapt quickly before remembering he had to bring them to the police.
The Police. Right.
( They'd probably get out in a few seconds, most )
Jason's a kid, and he's wide-eyed and excited and he asks questions.
Where are you from? How do you shoot lasers? How are you bulletproof? How do you breath ice and shit and lift trains and-
And he's a teenager, now, and he's still wide-eyed and excited and he's annoyed and proud and moody and headstrong and admiring and he asks questions.
They aren't going to stay in prison, how do we stop them, they aren't going to stop, we can't make them stop, they'll just keep getting released.
And Clark answers all of them.
Krypton. The sun. We try. We can't kill them.
We have to hope that they'll be better.
And Jason tries, tries to cling to that, like he's drowning, like he's been thrown in ice water and is expected to keep up.
( Alright, he says. )
The funeral is dreary and militaristic, and Jason wants to scream and shout, but he's eighteen- almost nineteen and he can't do that, he can't. Unprofessional. Childlike.
"Jason?"
Kara's voice is light and soft and younger than Jason remembers, maybe on purpose.
" Um. If you want to, you can come by to live with me and… the Danvers. For a while."
Jason remembers when she first came by. He'd been… well, he hadn't been the nicest, maybe.
And Clark had nodded and sat him down understandingly and Clark had told him that he was important to him, even if Kara was part of his immediate family, even if Kara had powers, but the thing was, that wasn't the point.
Jason knew that siblings didn't work like that. He knew that Clark would always care, no matter how many new family members ended up popping up from the Phantom Zone.
" Or if you want to, you could go with Ma and Pa."
She was definately using the soft, sympathetic voice on purpose.
Jason knew she was.
He took in a breath.
Clark wouldn't think less of him for anything.
" I'm an adult." he said. " I can. Do this by myself. "
He forced out a quick smile. " I'll stay in Gotham, thanks."
( But it wasn't Clark. It was Superman, and Superman was a god, and he wore his symbol over his chest with pride, and he flew higher than Jason ever thought was possible, and he shot lasers out of his eyes and his breath was ice and fire and he could crush forests with his hands.
And sure, Jason patrolled alongside him sometimes, as Red Robin, but he wasn't a Super, he wasn't.
He couldn't wear the damn crest. Ever.
Kara could. )
Sometimes. Sometimes, Jason felt immesurably bitter about it.
Not their fault.
Not ever their fault.
But the point still stood.
Jason doesn't know how other people are handling it after Clark's death. Not on the world, not Kara, not on Batman or the League or the Kents or, well-
He does know that he's doing it pretty badly. It's not too bad, if he could say. It's not. His eyes are tired and hard and bruised and his fingers ache and everything hurts-
But that's nothing. That's nothing.
The funny thing is. If he could, Jason would have killed Doomsday.
Revenge. It boils inside of him, hot and raging and screaming from every nerve in his body, like fog spreading and crashing and molding itself under his skin, encasing him entirely.
He closes his eyes, trying to imagine Doomsday in his mind's eye. Imagines himself stabbing him, killing him-
But he can't. Couldn't've.
Even with all the training, he would have been too weak.
And that's- that. He shouldn't be upset. Not about that, at least. But he is.
It's six months, and Jason's almost certain he's hallucinating when he picks up the phone.
But he does, and now he's pacing and angry and furious.
" What." He says, voice rising in anger.
" You didn't see?" Dick's voice is light and not nearly- not nearly, Jason thinks, as angry as it should be.
" You're telling me that Lex got some bast-" he swallowed. " he got some kid to play Superman?"
Rage boils inside of him.
" Jason, plea- well." Dick hesitates. " Not just him. He- there's four. One of them's called the Eradicator, another's a cyborg, apparently- he's just one. You can't just blame it on him, Jason. On anyone. Lois found out about it a month ago-I thought you knew."
He knows he can't. Still. Jason gritted his teeth, dragging fingers past his hair.
They were out there. Four of them. Imposters.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Superman died, and Jason wasn't even aware of it, and that now- now there were people out there thinking that they could just be him- replace him.
" They want to be Superman?"
" They think they are- I wanted you to know. Don't do anything drastic."
Right.
Right.
Jason breathed in shakily.
A cold sort of anger settled deep inside him, nestled softly alongside his stomach.
Right.
The first thing Jason does, after moving back to Gotham, after renting a shoddy apartment down East End, after searching and searching and searching up information on the 'Supermen' after they first showed up, after all that-
He unpacks his case.
The Red Robin costume is smaller. Too small, maybe, so he doesn't wear it. Can't. So he makes a new one.
It's similar enough to Clark's. Red and blue and gold. The patterning is a bit different, and he changed the cape for a cloak, and added in a helmet, but its good.
Just.
He hesitates for a moment, pacing around in his brain. The 'S' shone innocently on his chest.
Bile rose in his throat. Anger.
Took it off. He didn't deserve it, not any more than them.
Them.
He turned around slowly. Breath in.
He finds Superboy in Clark's old penthouse. Or rather, he sees him enter it. The cold wind of Gotham bites chilly and cold through the armor, freezing the anger that radiates through him.
Jason has never, ever ever been as angry in his entire life as he has in that moment.
Superboy looks around fifteen. Floppy curled hair, punk jacket, uniform-
Jason grits his teeth as he enters the house. Remodeled.
He fucking lived here.
Even angrier, now. He waited for a few moments.
Nothing.
" Hey! I didn't realize there was another one of you around!"
Jason whipped around quickly. The boy grinned, crossing red-gloved hands together, sunglasses over his eyes.
" Well? You have any powers of your own? Glad to meet you- Superboy. Soon to be Superman."
He held out his hand. Jason paused. Swallowed. Helmet had lead in it, he reminded himself. He coughed into the voice modifier. Part of him wanted to strike the boy at the exact moment before he forcibly stilled himself. Red fog.
" Rapture." Jason decided smoothly.
Superboy was untrained. Young. Not as much control. Had TTK instead of laser vision.
Only half Kryptonian.
Jason might be able to beat him. The shard of Kryptonite hummed where he hid it.
" Funny name. You must be new. What'cha doing here."
Jason narrowed his eyes. He clasped his fingers, tensing them just over where the kryptonite was hidden. He mapped out his plans in his head.
" I'm the Rapture." he says again. " Your Doomsday."
And Rapture leaps into action.
Superboy puts up an immediate fight. It's a good one.
But Jason has kryptonite shards and smoke bombs and armor, and two knives from that month he winded up with the All-Caste, and Jason's good, real good-
And Superboy yells out immediately when the gas hits, mostly curses, but his eyes light up in rage and Jason twists rapidly.
Explosion.
TTK. Jason rams into Superboy's side, feeling his weight stumble from under his armor.
" What the hell?" Superboy asks, leaping away immediately.
Stumbling, more like, because Jason can already see the green smoke choking at him. He stumbles upright.
Jason lept again- this time stretched out. He aims for the clone's throat, first, ready to stab him, before immediately twisting down before he can block.
The knife grazes his skin slightly, tearing away part of the cloth before Jason's pushed away again-
Thrown, more like.
" Dude, seriously, what the fuck- what- is that kryptonite?" Jason leaps away as Superboy collides forword, punching at the air beside him.
He's fast, even with the kryptonite- not as fast as he could be, whether that's because he's half human or because of the kryptonite still affecting him or because he's holding back, or maybe a combination, Jason doesn't really care.
Jason dodges a few more blows, quick bursts of adreniline fueling him- before he strikes back, thrusting his sword to Kon's shoulder.
This time, the knife moves in- in, before the clone manages to punch him.
He felt the air leave his lungs abruptly, tight air replaced with heavy, sharp pain bursting in his chest and lungs. He didn't have the chance to get back up before being thrown across the rooftop, skidding dangerously across the rock.
Superboy heaved, gritting his teeth.
Jason noted the wounded shoulder with satisfaction.
" Alright." Superboy said. " That hurts- shit. What the hell. Did someone send you? What are you doing here." He's running at him again, this time lighter on his feet than Jason remembers.
Spots dance in his vision from throughs the helmet.
" What are you?" Jason growls at him back, twisting his head back. He grabs out the knife again, aiming it right at Superboy's side.
The clone growled, shifting around just in time for Jason to drag the blade in a long line through his leg.
" What gives you the right to wear his symbol?" Jason demanded. " He's dead."
He threw out his left foot, smashing it against Kon's stomach, just enough to throw him back a few inches in pain.
" You don't deserve to be him."
Kon roared, rage thumping through him, smashing into Jason again, this time with his head.
Jason hissed, feeling the helmet crack, head in a daze.
" What gives you the right to fucking try and kill me?" He yelled- eyes firey and bright and Jason can suddenly feel himself being lifted off the ground, throat constricting horribly. Superboy quivers slightly, sweat dampening his hair from holding him up through the pain.
Jason notes somewhat satisfied that there's a good amount of wounds slashed over him.
Superboy's hand quiver's over his injured shoulder, dark blood staining it, running across the jacket. The slash on his leg is nearly invisible through the red of his pants, but it drips out in a way that Jason knows must sting and hurt like hell.
" You don't deserve his symbol." Jason growled. " None of you do."
The clone looks like he wants to continue to speak.
Jason dug into his pockets clumsily. His brain felt hazy and dark. Spots quivered in front of him.
Kryptonite smoke.
Just as he planned.
Jason let out a quick burst of laughter, watching as Superboy stepped up impulsively. His fingers tightened around the hard casing of the bombs.
" What is it?" Superboy demanded.
Jason smirked through the helmet. His eyebrows furrowed through the hair slick and pressed to his forehead.
" Just a gift."
He threw the bomb.
Rapture spends a lot of time after that trailing the other Supermen. Some more than others.
He gets another call.
He's back.
Jason's breath hitches and tears spill from his eyes and he can't breath and and-
Clark's back.
Superman's back.
My father is alive.
I would have killed him, Jason thinks. For you. If I could have. Doomsday.
If I could have.
But he can't. He can't. Jason watches as Superman flies off, black suit and all, taking Steel with him- and part of that stirs up a sort of hideous jealously in him.
Because Jason can't do anything. He can't ever wish to stand his ground on his own with any kryptonian, let alone Doomsday or Mongul, or- and it tastes like bile for Jason to even think about it- the other Supermen.
And it hurts. Because Jason is one of the best, but it doesn't matter, because he can't do anything.
Can't do anything.
The thing is, no matter what, Jason is never going to be as powerful as a Super. Can't.
It's why he doesn't wear the 'S'.
Mongul destroys Coast City.
Jason watches.
He's helpless. Can't do anything.
Never could.
When Stephanie comes by, there's a few jokes that have to be made.
Superman only adopts street orphans.
Very funny.
It is. Steph thinks its funny, and Jason thinks so too, and honestly, it is kinda fun having more regular humans around here.
Stephanie goes by Spoiler. She 'spoils' Cluemaster's crimes. It's all very funny in a sort of cringing sort of way.
With everyone else, its more complicated.
Steel doesn't come by all that much. Jason doesn't mind him. Clark's going on more and more dates with Lois, too, but that's more or less the same thing.
Supergirl comes by a lot more often.
Both of them, actually, because apparently dimension travel is a thing.
They're nice. Really nice, actually. Kind of weird to talk to, sure, but, Jason's been around them enough so that he can talk to them without it being too awkward.
Power Girl rubs his hair sometimes- little brother fashion, you understand.
Kara does the same thing, sometimes too, even if it is a bit less… patronizing, perhaps.
But Superboy.
Kon. El.
Jason's hurt Kon, before. Kon knows. Jason knows. Everyone knows.
They don't try to kill each other anymore, of course. But thast doesn't mean things aren't still tense.
It helps, somewhat, that Kon doesn't interact with them as much as he does with the Titans.
Or, well, interact with Jason as much.
It's shaky, the ground they're on.
The first time they met each other post-battle, Kon had recognized him immediately.
His eyes had lit up. Jason tensed, but Kon didn't try to make a move. They nodded tersely at each other, watching each other warily.
Clark must have told him about…
Well.
Eventually, they do end up having an actual conversation. It's about as awkward as Jason expects, he thinks, wryly. His mouth feels like smirking, some reason.
He stifles it guiltily.
" So." Kon says, first. His arms are crossed loosely over his chest. " You're Rapture?"
" Superboy." Jason says. Pauses. Swallows. " He- Clark said your new name was Kon, wasn't it?"
Kon nodded. " Kon-El. And you're Jason Todd-Kent."
His eyes darted almost unnoticeable to Jason's hands. " You were the guy on the rooftop, right? With the kryptonite?"
" Not anymore." Jason said. " It's hard to have a reason to keep kryptonite when most of your family consists of kryptonians."
Kon gave out a forced smile, skin curving to produce a smile more growl than teeth. He paused.
" You're weird." Kon said. " Are you going to try and kill me again?"
" I never planned on killing you." Jason interjected rapidly. His hands curled nervously into fists.
" Just- uh. You just kind of planned on beating me up on a rooftop and leaving?"
" I wasn't a fan of the idea of you replacing Superman." Jason said. " I… It was wrong, of me. Really wrong."
Kon nodded. " Really." He hesitated. " If it's anything- the wounds you gave me? They healed really fast. You need stronger kryptonite bombs."
" I'm not planning on fighting you again."
" Right." Pause. " Well."
He cleared his throat. " Well. I'm Kon-El. Also known as Superboy. May or may not be Superman, eventually. You?"
Jason stared at his outstretched out, for the second time.
" Jason Todd-Kent. Rapture."
" Mine?"
Jason let a grin spread across his face.
" Not this time."
Things aren't perfect after that.
Not even close.
But things are evening out, now. It takes time. Time and missions and Kon might not trust him entirely no matter what, and maybe Jason's just blind and not willing to see it, or maybe its the other way around-
But.
But Jason keeps his promise to not hurt him, and Kon's nice, real nice.
Jason doesn't expect him to visit, once. It's March, and Jason's been taking a break from patrol for a week, hiding up inside his apartment, waiting for the heat to blow over before he can get himself out.
" If you're looking for Clark, he's probably somewhere in Metropolis." Jason tells Kon.
Kon took out a cheap roll of burritoes from the fridge, chomping on them lightly.
" With a date?"
" With a date." Jason confirms.
" Hm." Kon says, which might be translated to 'Lame'. " What are you doing?"
Jason paused. " Spring cleaning?"
Kon rolled his eyes. " Your screen time says that you've been on there for an average amount of five hours every day this week."
Jason humphed defensively. " It's too hot to do anything else. What about you?"
" Getting boring. Not all that much crime. I tried to get Impulse to try to eat sushi the other day. It didn't work."
" Impulse doesn't eat sushi?"
" Doesn't want to." Kon says.
Jason doesn't continue on that train of thought, ripping apart his own burrito.
" So how's it with the…" Jason frowns. "…team. Impulse. Wonder Girl?"
" Awesome." Kon grinned happily. " We're still finding new members. It's fun. I took the guys to see New York- Impulse wasn't as impressed as I thought he'd be, but we spent a lot of time running around gawking at the gift shops, even if we didn't buy anything-"
" Hey."
Kon's voice was garbled and cracked through the phone.
" Just so you know. The whole rooftop thing? I'm over it, really. Don't beat yourself over it. It's been nearly seven months, and honestly, if I thought someone was trying to replace someone I cared about, I might try to go on a rampage, too."
Jason's fingers forced themselves to relax, forced his face to stay still.
" Who says I'm still sorry?"
" Don't know." Kon's tone felt flippant, almost, light." Just thought I'd say that." he pointed. " Oh, and give me the water. I need it."
Clark knew that it was going to happen eventually.
The tensions. The growing web of allegiances and sides. The atmospheric pressure breathing down on the city.
Everyone knew it, even if it was subconscious. The prickle of anticipation had been spreading alongside his spine and chest for weeks before the gang war broke out.
Small, steady, wary, like itchy needles stabbing at him, burrowed just beneath his skin.
Was preparing long before that.
Superman didn't expect it to happen as soon as it did, though.
Nor-
Stephanie's eyes are bruised and black and swollen, the rest of her body more or less the same. Her voice is choked and garbled from the beatings and Clark hasn't felt as guilty and terrified and angry and regretful and mourning as he has in his entire life.
" I'm sorry." Steph says. " I tried- I failed. I ruined everything- it was going so well and-"
And she stops. Maybe because she can't find anything to say, or maybe because she just can't speak, Clark doesn't know.
His fingers curl dangerously tight over the metal of the bed.
Can't afford to break it.
" It was never your fault." He says. " You didn't do anything wrong."
Steph quivered slightly in the medical bed and Clark's immediate thought is how small and fragile she looks.
She's a teenager, and she's dying, and it's because of him.
" I'm sorry." Clark says. " I should've- got to you. In time."
" You did. I'm alive right now, right?" Steph blinked, pain etching deeply into her face. " I'm… my kid. Daughter. How is she, now?"
" Good." Clark affirms. Promises.
Steph's skin is turning colder, now, hard skin stiffening from where Clark holds her hand.
" You're going to be okay, Steph. I promise."
" I'm dying." she responded, her eyebrows narrowing. Her eyelids stay closed, smattered purple. " You- you're not supposed to lie."
" I'm not." he says. " You're going to be okay. Trust me. St- I'm not lying. I promise."
She doesn't believe him, and maybe that's a good thing, or maybe it isn't- dbut she nods and clings onto his hand, anyways.
" Okay." she whispers. Her head nodded quickly, taking in a shaky breath, swallowing. " Okay."
It takes fifty-five minutes and thirteen more seconds for Stephanie Brown to die.
Jason's sister dies and for the second- third-fourth time in his life, he loses his family.
But this time, Steph's not coming back.
She isn't.
Clark came back.
Clark was a fucking alien, of course he did.
Steph was a human, and humans…. maybe they weren't supposed to be heroes. Maybe that was why.
( He's not going to stop, though. )
And he knows that they want him to. Clark. Kon. Kara. He knows, knows in their faint movements and words and silent thoughts and motions and looks, and-
And he hates it and loves it and he wants to scream all in one, and Jason hates it. He hates them, he hates himself, he hates Black Mask, he hates the goddamn world and why why couldn't you save her, you could've you're the one with superpowers-
You.
Jason thinks that he hates everyone, right now.
( Sometimes it feels like Jason's life is falling apart )
" No trace?"
To be honest. Jason hasn't worked with that many other heroes. Superman, Supergirl, Kon, sometimes, sure, even Dick and Roy on a few occasions, but never actually any team-ups.
It's interesting.
( He's also certain that Kyle thinks he wants to date Donna, which is cute )
" Nothing." Jason confirms. " Does your ring work?"
Kyle nods.
" Nope."
Alright.
" So we're just waiting for rescue, then." Jason looked up. Kyle cradled his left hand, green darkening with blood.
" I don't really have any powers outside of rings, sorry." Kyle says.
" That's perfectly alright, I don't have any powers with rings."
Kyle turned his head over, as though to glare.
Jason sighed, wincing through the pain. " Sorry." he grumbled finally.
"… So we're both pretty much helpless."
" I'm not." Jason feels compelled to say. " If I wasn't pretty sure I'm bleeding to death."
" You aren't." Kyle comments.
Sure felt like it.
"… Do any of you have any fighting experience outside of being Green Lanterns?"
" They do." Kyle says defensively. " I know Gre-uh."
He stops.
" One of my predecessors. Was a pilot." Jason turned his head. From what he could tell, Kyle was scrunching his face from under the green metallic mask of his.
" It's definately hard to clarify people when we all share the same name."
" I know. Sort of." Jason mulled over his next words. " You mean Hal Jordan, right. The one that… Parallax?"
" He's better now."
More defensive than before.
Jason leaned his head back. Stared up. The rocks were hollow and jagged and the entrace was almost too high to see.
" I understand."
He didn't know it all that well. Heard of it.
Hal Jordan. Coast City. Mongul. Superman. Superboy, Steel, Cyborg Superman, Eradicator.
He closed his eyes to shut it out.
" You became Green Lantern because of that, right? Congratulations."
" A lot of other Lanterns died. Uh. Not his fault, of course. He's really sorry now."
" Isn't he the Spectre? Vengeance?"
" That's Batman."
" Oh."
" Must be why they hate each other then,"
" Yeah. Just one person can have that title, you know?"
" Where's Donna?"
Really, the angst ridden bad-boy routine never fails.
You just can't match with kryptonians. Any of them.
Even without powers.
Actually, Kyle corrects in what might be drunkeness, except he isn't drunk-
It might work even better without it.
It's after Kyle and Donna, after OMAC, after everything, Ted Kord and Ray Palmer and Booster Gold-
He's with Dick. He's with Dick and Superboy, and Superboy-Prime.
And it's one moment. One split-second moment, and there's screaming ands shouting, and rubble crashing all around him- and he can barely hear it-
But he does.
" No!"
Conner screams out.
And Jason turns around, and-
And.
He doesn't reach him in time.
Superboy-Prime is gone and Conner is lying down dead in a crater and his t-shirt is ripped apart and he's
dead.
Real dead.
" I'm sorry."
For Conner. Dick's arms are wrapped around him, blue and gold, and his hair tickle's Jason's nose where it's crushed into Dick's shoulder.
The hug is wary and light and soft, and Jason wishes it weren't, that he could suffocate.
" Kara's dead, too."
" I heard."
" You nearly died, too."
" I didn't."
They're dead.
Kon and Kara.
And Steph.
He forces himself up. Clark came back. Maybe…
" They shouldn't've died." Jason forces out, coughing through tears. " I don't know…"
Licked his lips.
Dicks peeled his arms off of him, still resting gently on him.
" I don't know. I want them back. It doesn't…"
Jason thinks a lot. After it.
About bringing them back.
Clark came back. Why can't them?
He does.
Lazarus Pits and cloning and time travel.
Maybe.
Maybe it'll work. Maybe he's going insane.
Probably is.
Jason Todd thinks a lot. He holds the notes and files about Lazarus Pits in his hands, folds papers of Luthor Labratories into his cabinets, and picks up notes he picked up from Wally West.
The good news: They come back.
The bad news: They come back.
" I tried to bring you back," sounds wrong. It sounds desperate, it sounds childish, it sounds like the powerless, weak, idiotic, child that Jason knew that he was.
It's bad. He doesn't say.
They don't need to know it.
He's almost certain that they know anyways.
" Did Clark say anything?" Kara asks.
" He tried. I know. I'm an idiot."
" What?" Kara snorted. " No. I- well. It makes sense. A lot of it. I took a lot of information from LexCorp when Kon first showed up. Most of this is accurate. Some of it's wrong."
She turned over.
" How many times did you…" Pause. " Try?"
Jason forced himself to not move. He could feel embarassment- shame. Spreading across his face.
" Mostly theoretical. Didn't try it." He turned to meet Kara's eyes. " When Clark came back, I wasn't sure if it was just him or some kryptonian thing."
" I don't think it is." Kara let a chuckle. " We're just really, really, lucky, aren't we?"
" I don't think so." Jason says skeptically.
Except Steph comes back, too.
And she's not kryptonian or anything, she didn't come back from the dead.
( And she didn't, she was never dead, and that's- that's almost worse, that's upsetting and angry and-
But it doesn't matter, she's alive )
And Jason thinks they really do have some seriously good luck.
Maybe.
Shouldn't jinx it.
" Why don't you wear the shield?"
Jason twitches.
Of all things for Clark to mention on patrol.
" Should I? And here I thought we weren't partners."
Clark nods. " Right. I was curious."
Jason stepped quickly off the gargoyle, leaping off before swiftly rolling himself back onto another rooftop. He bent down to catch a glimpse of the street below.
Superman just floated beside him.
" So do you want me to wear it, or is this just hypothetical?"
" If you ever want to wear it, I wouldn't stop you. It'd be nice, actually." he stopped. " But I really don't want you to feel like you have to."
Sometimes, Jason really does think Clark might be one of the worst people to hold a conversation with, and then he remembers that Batman exists.
" Thanks."
He tenses. Waits for Clark to continue. He doesn't.
That's….
Nice, of him.
It takes a few weeks.
It takes 28 days, and Jason is finally, finally, sick of Clark's words haunting and echoing through his skull so hie drags up his wooden chair and dusted table and picks up his pencils and starts drawing. Again.
He still needs the armor. Layers. The helmet was nice- has to keep the jacket.
He stops.
Crosses out a few pieces. Alters them.
( He is not going to be a replica of Kon's outfit. He isn't. )
Then he stares.
There's a spot on his chest where there's an empty logo without anything in it.
He traces the graphite of the paper.
Pauses.
Well then.
Fair enough.
He takes a breath.
( Now to find someone to make it )