Jazz wasn't stupid, she knew that things were getting sketchier and sketchier. She vaguely heard her own voice in her head explaining stranger danger to Danny when they were little, repeating that he shouldn't talk to strangers and never ever get into a car with them, no matter how much candy they offered.
And here she was.
In a car with a stranger.
Did it count if the stranger was Bruce Wayne?
The responsible part of her brain told her that yes, it did count.
And she was being taken to a secondary location. She was totally being kidnapped by Bruce Wayne. Ugh. What the hell did she think would happen? That he would smile and throw money at her to make her dreams come true?
Jazz sighed, looking out of the window and trying to ignore the dawning feeling that something was wrong. If her kidnapper realized she knew what was happening things could get violent really fast, and she didn't want to fight in a moving vehicle with the person that was driving it.
"I really like this place," Bruce Wayne said as they approached… somewhere. Huh. Not driving out of the city?
Maybe his preferred location to murder-
(please let it be murder, because the alternatives were so disgusting she didn't want to even think about them)
- was one of these inconspicuous bland buildings where landlords didn't care what you did in them as long as you paid rent, and paid only in cash.
She lived in one of those, she would know what's up.
"Yeah?"
Mr. Wayne hummed. Again, the sound was familiar. "Is usually pretty quiet around this hour, which I really like. I don't do well with crowds."
He was telling the truth, she could tell. It would have been a shocking revelation - a public figure like him, not being good with crowds? - but she was so on edge that she could only nod and try to take note of where they were going. It was futile, though. She had only been in Gotham for a handful of months and she had been turned around shortly after leaving Arkham.
That should have been the first sign that she was being kidnapped.
Well. At least she mentioned that Bruce Wayne was picking her up to Christine when the woman cornered her in the locker room. Witnesses were good, it lowered the chances of being killed.
She had another witness too. Jason. She had left a text explaining she would get home a bit later because someone wanted to talk to her about her Arkham plans. She didn't say who, remembering that Jason Todd, once upon a time, had been Bruce Wayne's adoptive son, and she didn't know exactly what kind of reaction she would get at the information.
Jazz looked at the man from the corner of her eye. When he wasn't smiling for the camera or being a public face, he was very serious. He had one of those faces, a resting bitch face, looking like one stupid comment could get you a punch in the gut.
And his voice rumbled deep, like -
"We are here."
Indeed it was a nice place in a quiet street, she wouldn't deny it. Deserted, more like. The kind of "quaint and out-of-the-way" diners where horror movies happened.
Yep. She was getting murdered here.
Especially when they entered and went straight to the only occupied booth of the whole place, out of the way and the furthest from the door. Two people were waiting there for them.
One was a dark skinned young man wearing running clothes, his eyes alert and already fixed on her face since the moment she entered the place, watching her every movement and her every expression.
The other was a woman around her own age, with a kind expression and an easy smile that made her close her eyes, but that had certain awareness in her movements, as if she tried to act naturally way too hard.
Mr. Wayne sat between them, letting her sit alone on the other side of the booth. How subtle (sarcasm).
Maybe it wasn't a kidnapping. Maybe it was an interrogation. But what about?
"So." Mr. Wayne cleared his throat and placed his hands on the table. It was supposed to be an open gesture, but it only reminded her of those cop shows, enhancing the 'interrogation' theory.
"Am I being kidnapped?" She had to ask. The suspense was killing her and she needed to move the plot forward, whatever they had in store for her.
Neither of them was amused by her question. The girl even narrowed her eyes.
"Jasmine Fenton," Mr. Wayne's voice was nothing like what he had used until then. This, however, was more genuine. This was the real man. "You made a big mistake coming to my city, thinking you could hide here. Thinking you could get away with it, here, in Gotham."
Getting away with it? With what?
The young man reached for something she couldn't see under the table and then placed a manila folder over it, opening and showing her some documents and photos. Photos of her, of her family.
Jazz didn't jump, but felt her heart start beating faster. What was the meaning of this?
She watched as Mr. Wayne fanned out the documents, her eyes finding that they were reports and scientific papers signed by her parents. Their research. Their plans. All the bank records were there, the payments from a shell company Vlad used for his shady stuff - she would know, Team Phantom knew all about these - and all the stuff from the GIW.
Stuff they shouldn't be able to get.
You see, in times of war, guarding secrets became top priority; and when you had the best hackers at your disposal, it became a race to see who could hide them better and who could break down the other's safeguards.
If you count in some more magical and ghostly methods, the league at which Vlad and Team Phantom moved were out of reach for mortals. Tucker had explained many times that he had developed a whole new coding language just for encrypting everything about the Fentons, ghosts and the GIW. Everything.
"Recognition." A whisper she wasn't supposed to hear. The girl. She was leaning into Bruce Wayne and speaking in his ear.
But she didn't care if they knew she recognized these. Her damn face was all over the place. They even had her and Danny's graduation photo. "Where did you get these." It wasn't a question.
Mr. Wayne ignored her anyway. "What business do you and your family have in Gotham, hm? In Arkham?"
Were they suggesting-
"I don't have any 'business' in Gotham beyond my job at the hospital." She wanted to growl, but her voice was weak.
She looked back down at the papers - all the experiments Team Phantom couldn't stop, all the victims they couldn't save. The weapons they couldn't destroy in time. The people that had tried to kill them again and again.
Her parents' signature was everywhere, mocking her, reminding her of what they had done.
"How did you get these?" She looked back up at the man. Her heart was in overdrive. If they found these, it meant they had dipped their toes into stuff they shouldn't have. Not only they had put themselves in danger, but everyone else in Gotham.
And Jason. Oh no. They would come for him-
The young man jumped, his eyes lighting yellow for a moment. It wasn't a trick of the light. A meta?
"You were right," he whispered in Mr. Wayne's other ear. "She's something else. Something scary."
"How did you get these documents?" She insisted. It was important, she needed to warn them. "You don't understand the risk-"
"Oh, I understand enough." The older man said with a smug smirk, as if those words were supposed to mean something to her.
He moved around some of the photos, revealing a close up of her face she didn't recognize at first glance. It was in her apartment, the perspective of the photo was high, as if it was from her living room window. It was monochromatic, but you could still appreciate that there was something Other in her, in her expression, in her glowing eyes.
With a gasp, all the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.
"You are Batman."
He lifted an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you had 'guessed it'. It seems my son's high regard for you is misplaced."
His son. Jason. So he knew Jason was alive and that he was Red Hood. He knew, they knew, and yet they couldn't be in the same room without a fight breaking out.
But she could unpack that later.
Batman knew about her. He had seen her glowing green eyes. He knew she was not human. He knew-
She looked at the papers, at the big picture they showed. Her parents at the front of a cruel and inhumane organization that had extensive records on how to capture and torture humanoid creatures. Her parents, who received great sums of money from dubious sources to keep creating weapons.
She looked at a family photo she could remember was framed in her childhood home's living room. All four of them, smiling and posing for the picture. It had been taken on her seventeen birthday, a few months before Danny's fourteen birthday. They didn't have more family photos after that. How could they, when the story got so convoluted? When the portal's success changed everything?
She reached for the photo-
A nimble hand with long fingers caught her. She looked up at the dark eyes of the young woman that watched her closely, analyzing her, as if she could jump at any moment and attack them.
"Please, tell me how you found all of this. You are dealing with things you don't understand."
"You will first explain all of… this," he made a vague gesture at the reports and research from the GIW, "all of these experiments you and your family had been conducting on extra dimensional beings."
"I have nothing to do with these!" She tried to shake the grip of the woman, but she held on. She was strong, strong enough that if she wanted to free herself she'd need to break some bones.
Mr.- No, Batman narrowed his eyes, the blue a dark impenetrable wall, as if she had said the wrong thing. "It's futile to shake responsibility-"
"What's the meaning of this!"
Everyone turned towards the door, where Jason was standing, breathing heavily. Did he run or something? He shouldn't, his wounds hadn't healed completely. In the confusion, Jazz managed to slip out of the other woman's grip.
"What the fuck, Bruce? An ambush?"
"Stand back, Jason. This doesn't concern you."
He stomped all the way to the table, furious. "This concerns me a lot, you motherfucker. Why are you interrogating my girlfriend like a criminal!?"
"Jason," Jazz tried to get a word in. He looked at her, confused. "Listen to me-"
"Because she is a criminal."
For a few seconds, all that could be heard was Jason's labored breathing.
He looked at their faces and then at the documents and photos all over the table. "What?"
"The Fentons are known associates of an underground organization dedicated to the capture and experimentation on sentient creatures known as 'ghosts'."
Jazz saw the moment it clicked in his mind. She mentioned ghosts in her interrupted explanation back at their date.
"She's been helping her parents-"
"No!" She slapped the table, making the young man with eyes that glowed yellow jump. "I do not help my parents. What they do-"
Batman continued talking as if she hadn't said anything. "- experiment on these people, as well as the effects of 'ectoplasm' on humans. Her brother Daniel and herself were the first successful subjects."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Darling, listen to me," Jazz didn't like how she sounded, how she was starting to beg, but she needed to get his attention. Clearly Batman had incomplete information and had made judgment based on that, and she couldn't let him poison Jason's mind before she could explain. "Jason, this is not true."
"How do you explain this, then?"
Both looked at the table. Bruce had gingerly placed one specific report over the rest of the documents: "Liminality and the effects of prolonged exposure to ectoplasm, a study by Jasmine and Daniel Fenton."
What followed was an extensive record of her body, of her vitals; descriptions of the mutations of her body caused by her parents' neglect, and how it was boosted by exposure to the air of the Ghost Zone.
She made this with Danny when they discovered she was not as human as they thought. It was fun, a project they did together, a bonding experience between siblings whose world was falling into pieces around them.
Seeing it, at that moment, surrounded by the horrors of all her parents had done… It felt like a slap to the face.
"Recognition. She made this," again the young woman with deep brown eyes murmured, this time for everyone to hear.
"Well?"
She glared at the man. "This is taken out of context."
"Context you will give when you face justice."
"What?" Jason protested, but it was weaker than before. His eyes were reading the words in the paper. Jazz didn't remember what was in it, but her boyfriend's expression was turning darker the more he read.
"I didn't do anything wrong." They were dead set on her being a criminal. There was nothing she could say that made them stop. "I have never been experimented on or had tried to do it to someone else."
Batman smiled, but it wasn't nice. It was predatory, like she had said exactly what he wanted her to say.
"Then explain this."
He searched the inner pocket of his suit jacket, still smiling, and put whatever he found on top of the liminality report.
It was an ectoplasm vial. The exact same one she used the previous day on Jason.
"When did you get this!?"
Jazz jumped to fetch it, but this time it wasn't the girl who stopped her hand.
The warmth of Jason's hand would otherwise make her heart flutter like butterflies, but this time the coldness in his eyes struck like ice daggers in her chest.
"We found this in your apartment, next to Jason, opened and empty. Used." Batman picked up the vial and rolled it in his fingers, glancing at it like it had all the answers. "We analyzed what little of its content was left, finding traces of Lazarus Waters. Or as you call it, 'ectoplasm'."
Jason flinched, turning to look at her with wide eyes. "Jazz? What did you do?"
"I can explain."
His grip turned painful, even for her. "What did you do to me?"
"I saved you." She was full on pleading at this point. "I promise."
But he didn't believe her. Oh, Ancients. She could feel how she was losing him, how Batman's words were making sense to him.
"I trusted you," he growled as he pulled her towards him, making her stand up. He towered over her like he had never done before, his eyes swirling green on the edges.
Her hand hurt. Her heart was deafening behind her ears. "I swear I can explain."
There was nothing she could say that stopped this madness. She could explain, but she knew there was no coming back from this.
"Oh, you will explain." His words were sharp, cutting into her flesh deeper than any other weapon had done before. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened again there was not more green, just cold blue. "But not here."
"Jason, wait-"
"Son-"
"Everyone, shut the fuck up." He didn't scream, but it had the same effect as if he had. His voice trembled a little. He loosened his grip on her, as if he just remembered he was holding her wrist. "Just- Stop."
There was only silence as Jason gathered all the papers and photos and reports, putting them on the folder. He then grabbed her messenger bag and put everything inside, including the empty vial.
"Let's go."
Jazz didn't question it. This was it. This was when she explained everything, apparently. She hated it had happened like this.
She spared a glance at the trio still sitting at the booth, her eyes staying on Batman's for an extra second. Was this how criminals felt in this city? So helpless, so defeated and tired? Or was it just her standing before the dark abyss that threatened to devour her whole world one more time?
"Okay. This is what is going to happen." He said, sitting down heavily on a dirty sofa, ignoring the dust lifting in the air. From a place she couldn't see he withdrew a gun and clicked on the safety lock, placing it gingerly on his lap. His finger wasn't on the trigger. It should have made her feel better, but it didn't. "You are going to talk and you are going to tell only the truth."
His eyes were cold, his face contorted in an expression she never thought he would direct at her. It hurt, she wasn't going to lie, being treated like this. Especially after what they had shared.
But she understood him. That's why she didn't say anything when he pushed her towards his bike and didn't offer her the spare helmet. It was probably because he wanted to get out of there before the others followed, but it still hurt.
Neither said a word as he brought them to a practically abandoned building in a part of the Narrows where a gunshot wouldn't be reported. Funny. There was a real chance she was going to be murdered here, but inside of herself she only found defeat.
"First of all, I want to say that everything was real and that I never faked anything."
"That's not what I want to know." His words cut like steel. Jazz nodded anyway, ignoring the pinch in her chest. All about this situation hurts, why bother stopping to cry about it? Everything was ruined anyway.
"What do you want to know? Exactly." She especified when he frowned.
"It depends. How much haven't you told me?"
Both acted as if the hurt wasn't obvious in his voice.
"Is not much, what I haven't said. But it's important. So important that telling you will put you at risk."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Because you'd need to kill me?"
She didn't miss the hand without the gun clenching and unclenching.
"No." Her smile was resigned when she shook her head. "Because people could come for you and hurt you like they want to hurt me… and my brother."
Her words didn't make him stop pointing at her with a loaded gun, but his body relaxed a little.
"Can I sit? It's a bit of a story. And I'm not going to run away or anything." She pointed at the recliner that had seen better days. "Really, I won't." What was the point?
He thought about it for a second, but nodded. As she sat down, the barrel of the gun followed her.
"It all started when my brother died." She opened. There was no reason to beat around the bush. "It was an accident in my parents' lab, but he still died when a portal to another dimension opened over him."
Jason nodded slowly. She could see in his eyes that he was pondering if he believed her or not.
"I asked you before if you believed in ghosts," he nodded again, eyes shining with recognition at the memory. She wondered briefly if for him it hurt to think about the date like it did for her. "When you die, there is a chance you become a ghost. It depends on many factors - ambient ectoplasm, willpower, having unfinished business.
"But what my brother became after dying was not exactly that. Not human, not a ghost, something in between. He was both but neither, a complete rarity that hadn't been observed in millenia," Jazz looked at her hands, sighing. "He was just fourteen."
She heard him breathe him a tiny gasp. That's right. He was fifteen when he died.
"At first I didn't know, he only had his best friends helping him; but when I found out I supported him wholeheartedly and soon we became 'Team Phantom'." Her eyes wandered towards the dusty floor, her mind going over the memories and trying to make a coherent story.
"I still don't see where the human experimentation comes from. Or the death threats."
"I'm getting there. You see, the portal thing was a desperate attempt at making a stable gateway to the Ghost Zone, the Infinite Realms, or what you could call the Land of the Dead, the Other Side, the Underworld, or even Hell. Their idea was to snatch a ghost and use it to prove they weren't mad. Have you read their research about ectobiology?"
He nodded slowly, proving he had investigated her before. The thought didn't hurt as much as it should have. "Skimmed it."
"They sound crazy, right? But they only had guesses and conjectures. They needed proof. They needed to dissect a ghost."
"Now they have it. Your brother."
She shook her head. "They don't even know about him. It's one of our biggest secrets. Because they hate my brother's ghost side, Phantom, who had fouled every attempt they made at capturing a ghost to rip apart."
There were a few moments of silence. Jazz knew he had a question and she waited patiently for him to ask it.
"If they find out…"
"They'll kill him. Or not. Maybe I'm wrong and they'll accept Danny just the way he is, but I'm not taking that risk."
He nodded, but the gun didn't go anywhere.
"And how…? Where do you…?" He made a vague gesture at her person. "I thought I was imagining things, but Bruce said…"
"I am… I was human. I think so, at least," she shrugged, eyes fixed on the dusty floor. "My parents are bright scientists, but the world kind of fades away once they get obsessed with a project. Things like lab safety, vulnerable children or proper care of dangerous substances just…" It was harder to talk about this with someone that didn't know her parents. She knew they were negligent, but saying it out loud felt really violent. "By the time I realized the impact all that contamination would have on us, it was too late. Danny and I were already different, and it only got worse once the portal was activated and more and more stuff kept coming from the other side."
"So your parents did experiment on you."
"They don't even know what liminality is." She controlled her voice. "They did it by accident."
Jason was silent for a moment. She wondered what he was thinking of her tale. Was he moved by her sob story? Did he think it was all made up to make him feel bad?
"Why didn't you run away? If it was so dangerous."
She looked up, finding the gun still pointing at her. The question didn't sound like an interrogation, it sounded genuine. She never talked about her past or her parents so she didn't hold it on him for being curious about her childhood.
"And go where? CPS wouldn't help us, our parents weren't doing anything illegal on the surface, they didn't hit us, and we had food and shelter. And even if they cared and took us away from that house, I wasn't willing to get separated from my brother.
"But that was before the portal. After the portal worked and Danny became what he is now, we definitely couldn't leave. Ghosts realized there was a tasty permanent rip into our world and came to cause havoc and generally try to take over the world. We were the only ones that could do anything about it."
"So you guys started killing them? That's what the research is for?"
She shook her head. "We protected humans and ghosts alike. At first just from my parents and other local ghost hunters." Jazz fondly remembered those simpler times when it was just them fighting the occasional ghost and breaking inventions that could do too much harm. Long gone were those days. "Once word got out about the portal's success, they came in like sharks smelling blood. But they didn't care about good or bad ghosts, they didn't care about the difference between a halfa, a liminal or a full on ghost. If you were touched by death, they would put you in a cell and cut you open to see what's inside. Or destroy you on sight."
"The Ghost Investigation Ward."
There was a click when he put the safety back on. Jazz watched as he put the gun on the rotting coffee table between them, next to where he had put her bag with all of Batman's investigation.
She didn't dare move an inch. This interrogation wasn't over, he was just more open to talk.
"You are liminal."
She nodded. "Danny and I did our own research. Those papers-" he flinched when she moved forward to open her bag. Jazz froze, he froze. Then, under his cold gaze, she carefully opened the messenger bag and pulled all the papers over the table. "I was starting to change. My body was irreversibly transforming the closer I became like my brother."
"But you didn't die."
"Not yet. But I will." From the corner of her eye she saw him tense, but focused on finding her report on liminality. "We don't know when, we don't know how. We don't even know if I will become a ghost when I die. There is reason to believe I will, but," she shrugged, her fingers tracing her words on the paper. It wasn't the original report, just the digitized version they did just to have everything in one place. She remembered the places where Danny left little blob ghost doodles on the margins in the original ones. "I'm not the only one that's liminal, though. Danny's friends are also affected, although in a lesser way. And Vlad Masters," her mouth curved down as she said the name, "and you."
"What the fuck do you mean?"
"That's how I knew. How I really knew about you and Red Hood. I know you died and came back, but I don't know the details!" she quickly added when he bristled. "I just can sense it coming from you. But it's weird, it's muddy, and you really can't hide your ectosignature at all."
His face quickly passed through many emotions, finally settling on his previous blank mask for the interrogation. He straightened his back and picked up the empty vial, presenting it to her like evidence for a crime.
"What was in this?"
"Ectoplasm, filtered ectoplasm. I have no idea what are the 'Lazarus Waters' or why Batman mentioned it. "
He took it in stride. "What did you do to me?"
"You would have died if I didn't-!" His glare turned darker. She bit her lip. "I took a gamble. I knew you were liminal and ectoplasm would heal you, but I didn't know exactly what's wrong with your body or how much you could take. I didn't have time to test it. Your heart was about to stop when I decided to use it."
"So all the bullshit about CPR…"
"No, that really did happen," she chuckled, the sound out of place in the dusty and run down empty apartment. "I needed to keep the heart pumping as you absorbed the ectoplasm or it wouldn't have worked."
He pondered her words for a moment, his hands fiddling with the vial. She gave him time as he thought of his next question, feeling a little cold since the windows were busted and the cold air flowed right into her face. It was going to rain indeed, she could see the dark clouds rolling in.
"What will this do to me?"
Jazz looked back at him. Jason's blank expression was betrayed by his eyes, his clear worry bleeding through. She wished she had definite answers, and yet-
"I don't know."
That was apparently the wrong thing to say. He tensed and stood up. "You don't know!?"
"You died and came back, but aren't a halfa. Liminal, but your body had barely changed beyond fast healing. I don't know if the dose I gave you was enough to kickstart anything or do anything more than heal your wounds. I would need to test some things, but-"
"Don't."
It wasn't his words, but the way he said them as if the thought of her touching him was repulsive what hurt more.
Jazz felt her eyes prickle with tears, but breathed deeply and held them in. There was no use to start crying now. Breakdown could wait until she got home.
"Ok." Her voice sounded constricted. She cleared her throat. "I won't."
Jason deflated, all his energy abandoning his body. He sat back down on the sofa, one hand still grasping the vial and the other now cradling his head.
"So. I'm liminal too." He did a long pause, but since she wasn't sure if she should talk, Jazz chose to remain silent. "When you said they would come for me…?"
"The GIW. They are after my brother. They would do anything to get to him, to us, to me. They have the means to find people with ectosignatures, very short range, not much to worry about - but they didn't know I was here, in Gotham. They do know now," she pointed at the GIW reports and data, "because these were behind so much security they will want to know who did it. It's enough of a singularity to warrant coming here to check by themselves, and once they sweep the city with the detectors-"
"They'll find me as well. And won't hesitate to kill me."
She nodded. "And if they learn you know me they will torture you to get to me. And my brother."
His eyes almost glowed when he looked at her. Maybe he was piecing together how bad it was that Batman had this information. Maybe he was regretting getting involved with her at all.
"Let them try."
Jazz smiled. Charming. "They are not the only ones that will come." She leaned closer to point at the fund approval and bank account reports. "Vlad Masters has ways to know he is being investigated. When he gets here, he won't be so nice."
He narrowed his eyes and looked at the papers, then back at her.
"Who are you?"
There it was. That's the question, wasn't it? Who was Jasmine? The caring sister? The warrior? The Arkham doctor? Jason's girlfriend?
(Did it matter anymore?)
"I'm just someone that stepped up when no one else could," her eyes wandered to the photos of her, her family, Danny, "someone that didn't know what she was getting into. We wanted to be heroes and bit more than we could chew."
"Danny and you?"
"Danny, his friends, and I." She shook her head. "We tried our best, and the situation only got worse. Much worse."
"Why not call the real heroes? The Justice League?"
"We tried, but it was brushed off as a prank call. It wasn't until much later that we realized we weren't abandoned, it was just the GIW hiding the whole 'ghost problem' thing; but the damage was done, we had accepted that help wouldn't come and rolled with it. But," she picked up a GIW report on ghost abilities, "it was better that way, back then. Ghosts can possess living creatures. If they came to help and became possessed, believe me that nothing good could have happened."
He believed her. She could see he was listening to her. He was calmer than when they arrived, the cold fury replaced with calculating eyes. It was an improvement.
"There's more you aren't telling me." It wasn't a question.
She almost let out a whine. "That's correct."
"And you won't say it." There was the hurt again, in his voice, in his eyes. She didn't like it.
"I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"Right here, right now, I can't. You will need proof, Batman will need proof, and I need Danny for that."
"Why?"
"Can't say it."
There was no way she could explain the whole Ghost King business without proof. And not like this, in the open. Maybe Danny's paranoia was rubbing off on her, because she didn't trust the walls to not be listening, and she wasn't talking about bugs or other listening devices Batman could have planted on her.
Gotham was very haunted. She had felt it, but tried not to engage with it. Lots of people, lots of pain, lots of history - it was bound to have more ghosts than what she could sense. Would they be allies? Would they be spies? She couldn't know.
She needed Danny.
"Alright." Jason stretched his legs. "I'll let it go, for now," by his look he wasn't going to wait forever. Not knowing would haunt him. "I do have one last question."
"Shoot."
He breathed in and breathed out slowly. Bracing himself.
"Did you approach me on purpose?" He finally asked, voice small. Disarmed.
"No!" She stood up, shocked by the question. "No, no, no. Please tell me you haven't thought that all this time?"
He looked away. "It crossed my mind a few times."
"Well I didn't! It was by complete and absolute chance!" She pulled on her hair, distressed. She started pacing, his eyes followed her, but his body was completely still, shoulders hunched. Defeated. "I was never supposed to meet anybody! My stay in Gotham is temporary, once my contract ends I have to go back to-" to the Ghost Zone. They had a plan. They needed the whole team for the plan. She shook her head. Focus. "I- I wasn't supposed to get noticed, by you, by Batman, by anybody!"
"Yet you know a lot about us. About me."
"I did some research, but-"
"You knew who I was. You told me yesterday that you investigated Red Hood-"
"Because it was interesting!"
He stood up and walked up to her, stomping on the creaky wooden floor. "You expect me to believe that?" He said barely above a whisper, making her realize they had been raising their voices.
"I didn't know who you were when I moved in. Really." Deep breaths. Panicking later. At home. Not here, not like this. "I didn't even know you were liminal."
"But it helped make up your mind?" He lifted the vial. "A nice candidate to test this on, huh? There are few liminals, you said. Maybe you wanted to make me like you, mold me into something you could order around."
"No. Never."
He was again towering over her, threatening. He never raised his voice or made any dangerous move towards her, but she could see it in his eyes. He was hurt and lashing out. She had hurt him like this. She had-
Breakdown later, Jasmine. Focus on the moment.
"I'm sorry," she continued when he didn't add anything else. He stood there watching her with the same defeat in his posture, the same sad eyes. She had done this. She had taken away the beautiful love she had seen in him the moment she chose to be selfish and postpone this conversation. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I was never supposed to feel like this, like I…" Her breathing was getting labored. Too close, he was too close, she couldn't breathe-
He took a step back. "Be honest: Did you intend to tell me all of this?"
"Yes!" Her voice broke a little. Deep breaths. Breakdown later.
"All of it?" She flinched. He didn't hide his disappointment. "I see."
"I wanted to!" She pulled her hair again, desperate to make her point. "Eventually. There are a lot of secrets, and not all of them are mine to tell."
"Like what you won't tell me now?" It didn't escape her how he chose to say 'won't'.
"I thought I had more time! I thought… I thought…" her mind was scrambled, her attention scattered between his sad smile and his walled off eyes. He had never looked at her like that. "I don't know what I was thinking. I- I made a mistake." Deep breaths. "I'm sorry."
He didn't say anything. Not even acknowledge her apology.
She wanted to cry. It was over. Everything, all the things she hoped she could have with him, all the memories she wanted to make, was gone. She didn't need to ask to know they were over. She didn't need to hear it to know he took back his confession.
"Do you have any more questions?"
Both ignored how weak she sounded, how she couldn't lift her eyes from the floor.
"No."
Deep breaths. Breakdown later.
"Okay. Then, I'll just-" Deep breaths. "You know where I live. In case you want to ask anything else. Um. Yeah."
She waited for a second, but he stayed quiet. Just nodded, watching her, studying her.
Jazz left the apartment (a safehouse?) and walked down the hallway towards the stairs. It was quiet, she couldn't hear him move or sit down or leave the apartment.
Would he go back to just being her neighbor? Would she wake up tomorrow to find out he had vanished? Would she even have a home to go back to now?
What a mess. What was she going to do? She needed to call Danny, that's for sure, and explain what happened. Explain how she messed up, how she got carried away and compromised everything.
And for what? For love? For a relationship that didn't last more than a week?
Funny. This one was a record. She really wasn't made for this, huh? Romance, love, relationships. One guy that wasn't an asshole and she loses him like this. It was always hurt or be hurt with her, apparently.
Deep breaths, Jasmine. Breakdown later.
She really liked this one. Made her feel warm, made her laugh, made her feel like that there was something else for her out there. Made her believe in all that bullshit about your other half and butterflies in the stomach and-
Breathe. Don't start crying. Breakdown was for later.
She loved him. And now she lost him. She wouldn't hear him call her agai-
"Jazz?"
She froze. She turned slowly, looking through her hair, checking she hadn't hallucinated his voice.
"You left your bag."
It was really him, walking towards her. She watched carefully, there was something different about him. He still looked kind of sad, but not as tense. He didn't look her in the eye, but wasn't afraid to get close and loop the strap of her bag over her head.
"Thanks." She croaked.
"Hey, look at me." His hands were cold as he pushed her hair away from her face. He took away her hairband to better comb back the tangled locks. "Don't cry."
Cry? What was he talk abou-
One of her hands flew to her face. It was wet
"Oh. Um. Sorry."
He shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I was too harsh back there. I didn't mean any of it."
"Yes you did," Jazz wiped away the tears in her cheeks. "There is always a kernel of truth even in the biggest lies."
He laughed, and it was beautiful. Made her smile a little.
"Really, I'm sorry." He put the headband back into place and finally, finally, looked into her eyes. It wasn't the same, he was still hurt, but there was an openness to talk that wasn't there before. "I believe you. And I get that there is no easy way to explain all of that."
"You do?"
He nodded, picking up one of her hands in his. "Is not something you'd tell someone on the first date."
"I tried."
"I know."
Deep breaths. Maybe not everything was lost. Maybe he really did believe her. Maybe she wouldn't wake up to not having a neighbor anymore.
"I really want to talk more, but it can wait. Want me to take you home?"
She could say no and walk through the most dangerous parts of Gotham alone and probably under the rain. Or she could say yes and be close to Jason one last time-
(It didn't have to be the last time. Maybe he didn't want things to end.)
- and she really needed to feel him close. Think about something else than the conversation she needed to have with her brother and about the impending doom of Vlad and the GIW coming to Gotham.
She nodded.
Jazz watched him as they descended the stairs, noticing how he was limping a little. Did he upset his injuries with so much excitement? Of course he did. And he was very stubborn, too, so he would hide how much it really hurt.
Once they got to the bike he had hastily parked at the door - which she was half convinced would have been stolen already - she knew she had to say something.
"Did you rip the stitches?"
"No." Jason rolled his eyes.
"You were limping."
"I was not."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Let me drive."
He stopped, one hand in his pocket, probably around his keys. "You know how to drive a bike?"
Deep breaths. "And I have one. In theory. My brother is borrowing it at the moment."
Jason looked at her with an unreadable expression. Did she mess up again?
"There are many things I don't know about you, huh."
It was a neutral statement. A fact. Was he angry about it?
Jazz tested the waters and smiled a little bit. "You never asked?"
This made him laugh, so she had said the right thing. Success. Still chuckling, he took her hand and placed the keys in it.
"Show me."
The ride home was quiet except for the moments he gave her directions. Jason didn't hesitate to grab her waist or get close to her ear to talk over the noise of the motor and the wind against their ears; and yet there was a spark missing, a certain closeness they had before, a quiet understanding.
She could take it. It was better than losing him forever. It had to be enough.
Once at their building she parked where he usually left his bike and put the tarp over it the same way he did before giving back the keys. He nodded and commented that it was nice to know she could drive this well. The compliment felt bland.
Neither spoke all the way to their floor. Jazz had a déjà vu moment, her mind remembering the same elevator, the same silence, after their interrupted date. It felt like it was years ago instead of days ago.
And the same as that day, they stopped at the door of her apartment.
Jason took a breath to speak, making her look up at him.
"Thank you - for being honest," he added when she lifted an eyebrow. "And I'm sorry about Bruce."
"It's okay."
It wasn't okay. Both knew it.
Awkward silence fell upon them. Jason was obviously favoring his right leg, so he must need a painkiller soon.
She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to hug him.
"Goodbye." She said instead.
He watched her for a moment with sad eyes.
"Bye." She got the feeling that wasn't what he wanted to say. She accepted it with a nod anyway.
Jazz didn't look back as she unlocked her door and entered her dark apartment.
A flash illuminated her place, shortly followed by thunder and the sounds of rain hitting her window.
Deep breaths.
Jazz walked up to the window and sat on the floor, the noises from the storm filling her head and helping with the 'not thinking about things' part.
She watched her dark apartment from her position, remembering the warm body of Jason freshly back from the dead for the second time. He had been next to her, hugging her, telling her he loved her.
It was cold now.
Deep breaths.
Breakdown now.
For an uncertain amount of time, Jazz let herself cry it out - relieved that she hadn't been murdered, sad that it had come to this, mourning the loss of what could have been. Did it even make sense to wonder? What's done it's done and there was no coming back.
It was over. The dream. The fantasy.
She couldn't escape who she was, what she was. She couldn't pretend that there was no war for the throne of the Dead, that her parents weren't mad scientists, that she had freedom to pursue her dream, that she could love without consequences.
This had been a mistake. Coming to Gotham, her job at Arkham, dating Jason.
Why did she think this could work? That she could hide forever? That she could make a change? She had been butting heads with her boss since the day she arrived, for fucks sake.
And now this. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe she should give up.
(She didn't want to.)
Still sniffling, she rummaged her forgotten messenger bag, ignoring the photos and papers still there, and grabbed her phone.
She almost broke down again when she tapped the screen and a cute picture of a smiling Jason greeted her. She had taken it during their date, she couldn't resist - they had been kissing and he had a content smile, lips slightly swollen, that she wanted to treasure forever.
Deep breaths.
Jazz unlocked her phone and went straight to Team Phantom's messaging app, the one Tucker made so it was extra safe, and opened her conversation with Danny.
Hey
Could you come over?
I need to talk to you
It's important
