Author's Note: This one's a little lighter... a bit softer... because they need a break :(

Also, I kept falling asleep while writing this chapter. I dreamt about it and wrote notes instead. But I got it here for y'all... I hope you enjoy!


"No."

"I'm looking right into his casket right now."

"No way."

"It's. Not. In. There."

"No fucking way."

"Yes way! His fucking body isn't in his fucking GRAVE!"

"W-what do you see?"

"I don't see shit, Dick! Not now!"

"What?"

"Fuck, not you. I'm — I'm… oooooh. Let me walk away right now. Your father is a whole new level of fucking irritating."

"Again?"

"YET AGAIN!"

"Isn't it… almost midnight there…"

"And?"

"Nothing…"

"This is all because of that motherfucking clown. All I wanted to do. Was go. To SCHOOL."

"What kind of a sick fuck would rob some kid's grave…"

"Dick. Dick you dumbass, there's scratches on the inside. I'm pretty sure I saw dry fucking blood and nails."

"No."

"Yes. I'll send you pictures. I'll send you an email. Yes I will!"

"Is he—"

"I don't care if you say no. He needs to see!"

"...I don't think so."

"Yes you do."

"Was he… buried… alive…"

"We stared straight at his corpse."

"Cloned…"

"I wouldn't rule it out."

"The picture."

"He stole it from me."

"Jason."

"...Ja-a-a-son!"

Her wail takes him back in — it hits his guts and his brain and oh. She's fucking crying.

He hears something fall and figures she dropped her phone. And thinks that maybe her faint shouts are directed at his father.

Whatever. Guy is horrible in situations like these. Fuck him.

"If Jason fucking Todd is roaming this goddamn Earth without my knowledge, I'll kill him myself."

It's not something he's even allowing his brain to consider yet. Holy shit.

"You think there's a good chance he is?"

"From what you told me… the casket…"

"So fuck the natural order of things?" Fuck God? God's will? Was this God's will?

"Apparently so!"

"You're shattering my mind."

"Mine left the millisecond that clown from the depths of Hell tried to murder me."

"Barbara." He says her name like he has nothing else to say because he has nothing else to say.

A choking sound comes from her, and maybe some sort of bitter laugh that fades into a sob. "This is a huge fucking joke."

"Tell me about it."

"I need to track this red helmet guy down. You need to get that Red X guy. You need to talk to Starfire. You need to tell her. About him. I'm not wrapping my head around this either."

"If it is him, why wouldn't we know already?"

"Maybe he doesn't know how to face it. Who would, Dick." The vigor in her voice withers.

"I know… but how can you… accept it?"

"I'm not."

"Is it…?"

"I want to believe that he's at peace."

"Me too."

"Yes, it's the picture."

"I remember you complaining about the empty slot in your photo album."

She laughs, like it was years and years ago. "It feels like ages ago."

"It's only been… a couple of years."

"Dick."

"Yeah?"

"With all the unbelievable shit that happens all around us… this is where you draw the line?"

"Did you grow up with religion knocked into your skull every damn day?"

"Ugh. Shutup."

"Where are you now?"

"Still here. Just kept my distance. I needed to freak the fuck out."

"My mind's blank."

"I can tell."

"Tell me more."

"I'm about to have a heart attack. I'm exhausted. I want to puke," she deadpans and he cringes.

"Go home, Babs."

She whimpers. "I need to take pictures."

"I believe you."

"No, you need to see."

"Go to sleep first."

"If that kid is alive…"

"It's way past your bedtime, Babs."

"My legs…"

"What about them?"

"They hurt."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's good. I can still feel them. I lost my peace of mind, but Jason lost his whole life."

"That's still a loss, Barbara."

"But if — if Jason got his life back… will he have peace?" She hiccups. "Will I have mine?"

He hears a muffled voice in the background and her defeated sigh. He tries to focus on the ruffling on the other end of the line but his mind trails off into the possibilities in seconds.

Clone. Zombie. Disgustingly elaborate and manipulative scheme. Freaky miracle. An act of God. Magic. A death cure. An illusion.

"Dick?" she says, panicked.

"Fuck, sorry. I can't think straight."

"We're going to leave soon."

"Stay on the line?"

"I might just have to call you back later. Or in the morning."

"We need to… talk."

"Yeah. We will."

"I don't believe this, Babs," he whispers.

"Dick," she whispers back. "Is it bad that I want to?"

"No. Of course not."

"I'll talk to you soon. Okay?"

"Sleep good? Please?"

"I'll try. Promise."

"I love you."

"Love you too."

A tragedy? A comedy? A tragic joke?

He stares into space. And then at the open notebook on his desk.

Staring.

He picks up the pen: alive

alive?

̶a̶l̶i̶v̶e̶?̶ the fuck?

He flips his phone open.

"What's up, baby girl?"

"It's Dick."

"I know, don't worry."

"Are you sitting?"

"Should I be?"

"Would be better for you, maybe."

"Are you okay?"

"I don't think so."

"...Dick?"

He swallows thickly and chokes back a laugh. "Fuck me, dude, I shouldn't be bothering you with this…"

"What happened, man?"

"This is so fucked up. Wally."

"Can you fucking tell me already?"

"Dude, I can't even fucking say it."

"Fucking text me then!"

"No, I'll say it."

"So say it, dude, you're scaring the shit out of me."

"Dude."

"What?"

"It's so fucked up."

"I'm gonna hang up on you."

"Jason might be alive."

The silence on the other end of the line makes him want to break, and then the heavy breath Wally lets out triggers his own. Maybe he just needed to say it to someone else.

What a relief! My brother is back from the dead! You're the first person I've told! What an honor!

"Say that again."

"Don't make me do that…"

"I don't think I heard you correctly."

"I think you think I'm insane."

"That too!"

"Thanks."

"No."

"No."

"No."

"Yes."

"You're telling me…"

"Yes."

"That Jason fucking Todd…"

"Yes."

"Is presently roaming this Earth?"

"Yes."

"Yes?!"

"I mean… fuck. I mean he might." He coughs, his throat dry. "He might be, Wally. And I dunno."

"...Are you okay?"

"Not since I was seven."

A rigid surge of fear slowly rolls through his insides. He freezes, any sudden movement able to break his bones like he's fucking brittle.

But it's just knocking at his door.

He hears Wally panicking on the other line, and he mumbles something like, "it's fine," and feels the knocking pound through his dissociation.

"Yo Rob," Cyborg calls. "You good?"

"Yeah," he says weakly.

"We're gonna start watching a movie. C'mon. Get your ass up already."

"Few minutes," he croaks.

He hears Cyborg walk away and then he's staring at his phone, almost forgetting who he was talking to.

"What the hell happened?" Wally kind of screeches in his ear when he puts the receiver back up.

"It was Cy. Got shit scared."

"Dude…"

"Hm?"

"You're scaring me."

"Why?"

"You're out of it. I don't think you should be alone right now."

"How you know I'm alone?" His words feels heavy and garbled in his mouth.

"'Cause I know you. Duh. What did he say?"

"Movie."

"Go."

He shakes his head, forgetting that nobody's looking at him.

"Dick?"

"Mm?"

"Please. It'll help you get your mind off things."

"I'm not thinking."

"I could come over real quick and slap you silly."

He rolls his eyes. "Sure."

"Really?"

"No."

The silence stretches for too long.

"Sorry about this," he whispers.

"Don't be. However you need to handle it. I'm here. I'm your man."

He pshes. "Thanks," he mumbles.

"Do you want me to call you later?"

"...I'll call you."

"Whenever you need me. Take care of yourself, man."

He nods slowly. "I'll try."

"Night, Dick," he says, and then he hangs up, and then the world feels so thick with the silence again.

He should get up. But his limbs feel heavy. They also feel not real. Maybe he should slap himself. Or bang his head against the desk.

He picks up the pen again. Presses it to the paper and writes through the lines.

peace of mind

Isn't that what he's supposed to find?


She presses the stuffed kitten to her chest and nibbles on a cookie, watching the television mindlessly. Rain patters against the windows, the darkness of the sky a contrast to the bright lights of the room. Cyborg sits beside her as Beast Boy laughs behind her. Something about all of these things occurring at once makes her feel at ease.

"Yo," Cyborg whispers, nudging her.

She draws her knees up and hugs the white kitty closer, leaning in with a smile. "Yo," she echoes.

"Look at those looooovebirds over there," he says, pointing his chin behind them.

She looks carefully over her shoulder and spots Raven in the corner with her book, and Beast Boy a little too close for her friend's liking.

Or perhaps… not close enough?

"I bet you're just reading a trashy romance novel. Bet you loooooove those," Beast Boy says, kissing the air obnoxiously. "Ravage me, my love…"

Raven rolls her eyes harder than she has ever witnessed anyone do so and turns her back to him. "Go bother someone else, Garfield."

"Hmmm… no," he says, smiling widely before poking her side, to which she frowns.

"She would've sent him flying into the darkness just a couple months ago," Cyborg says.

She giggles. "How have we allowed this new development to go unnoticed?"

"I don't know about you, but I've got my eye on everybody."

He smirks down at her and all she can do is sink lower into the couch, hiding her furious blush. He laughs and it draws her own out of her.

"Wow, he's pushin' it…"

She peers over the couch and watches Beast Boy flipping through Raven's book. He stops at a page and squints. Somehow, he makes this appear dramatic. "What is this? Italian?"

Raven glares daggers at him — or perhaps, plastic knives. She holds her hand out and raises her brow.

"Gimme a sec, Rae. Damn. Let me read this for ya. Uhhhhh," he blinks heavily before sticking his nose into the book. "Smells nice, actually. Lemme go to the beginning, don't worry, I've got my finger at the page you were at. Okay."

Raven stares blankly at him, unmoving. She wonders how difficult it is not to react at the moment. Something about this exchange… endears her.

Beast Boy scratches his head and chuckles. She catches the slightest softening of her eyes.

Though it hardens as soon as he speaks gibberish.

She wraps her magic around him, to which he shrieks and her and Cyborg giggle. Raven snatches the book out of his hands before lightly batting him on the tip of his nose. "Bad boy."

"I thought I cast a spell… what the hell are you reading?"

She enjoys the small smile on her friend's face until he reaches the corridor, looking pale and sickly. She feels her own face drain of color as he walks stiffly to the couch, uncomfortable despite his t-shirt and sweats, as if any fluid movement would break him.

"Finally," Cyborg huffs once he stands.

Richard attempts what she believes is meant to be a smile. "Don't mention it."

Cyborg pats his shoulder before heading to the kitchen. Was he not seeing Richard's state? Was he ignoring it on purpose?

He must be… he must know that something happened.

She cringes when he plops down on the couch and his face contorts into a grimace. He sits a good distance away from her, enough for them to both have their space. But a part of her wants to close it — he does not look well. At all.

His arms fall heavily onto the cushions. He turns his face to her.

She hugs her kitty closer and drops her hand down. She waves.

He presses the heel of his hand down and waves back.

"Hi," she mouths.

"Hi," he mouths back.

The room goes dark. Cyborg sets more bowls on the table. "What're we watching?"

"I wanna watch that zombie movie!" Beast Boy says, throwing himself onto the end of the couch.

Immediately, she looks at Richard.

"No," they say in unison.

Beast Boy rolls his eyes. "Pssssh. Whatever. You guys are so freakin' boring."

She picks at her pajama pants — fluffy and pink — as they flick through the channels.

"Stop taking up so much space," she hears Raven say.

Beast Boy huffs. "Fine."

But any amusement she would feel is gone. A tight knot hangs low in her stomach instead.

She reaches over, and grabs two cookies. Slowly, she extends her hand to him. X'hal knows the last time he has eaten.

He dimples his cheek and shakes his head. She offers it once more. And then he refuses it once more.

"Why?" she mouths.

"Not hungry."

She gives him a pointed look. A knowing one, and he sinks down sheepishly.

She crosses her arms around the kitty and furrows her brows. What happened? she asks without speaking.

His cheek twitches. He cannot hide it from her.

She leans in. Richard.

He looks down at his lap and shakes his head slightly. She scooches closer, not caring much for being discreet.

She tilts her head. Are you the okay?

He once again attempts to smile, though this time, it comes easier. I'm fine.

She squints at him. There is no reason to lie anymore.

He squirms, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. He waves weakly. I'll tell you later. He looks straight at her. I promise.

She reaches for the plate of cookies on the table and places it in the space between them, sliding them close to him. He stares at the cookie she holds out for him as if he is not from the planet in which it was created.

She pouts. Please?

Perhaps she should have done that in the first place. He takes it immediately after and bites into it. She almost giggles at the awkward way he chews, but she would rather not discourage him from eating more.

She barely pays mind to the movie — while she always appreciates these nights, she did not enjoy this in particular. It is a little too loud and she tries not to let it startle her.

Instead, her mind drifts off, too aware of the boy beside her and the way his breath comes short and harsh. Every so often, she rotates the snacks between them, and gives him a look to know that she is watching whether he eats or not.

If there is one thing she knows, it is that grief can strip you of your will to enjoy something as basic and necessary as food.

And then it strikes her — is he grieving?

She whips her head to face him, finding his expression almost comically blank.

If he found out what she suspects he has — well… is it possible to grieve in reverse?

Cyborg and Beast Boy laugh. Richard's lips twitch into another stiff smile, and she wonders why he still feels the need to perform.

Perform, perform… does she not perform? Does she not pretend, even when she fails to truly put on a performance?

Jason… was he performing?

She squeezes her kitty hard to her aching heart. She leans over it and presses her cheek to it, her whole body curled into her corner. Though it soothes her, it is not enough to relieve the sudden ache.

She catches his fingers drumming on the space between them. She slides her eyes onto his and tries to imagine how they would look at the moment, bare and raw.

"What's wrong?" he mouths, and his look of pure concern hurts her, somehow.

She smiles slightly and buries her face further into her kitty. "Thinking," she mouths back.

He lets out a deep breath, and it must be the most proper one he has had in days. I'm sorry. Me too.

How strange, she thinks. How we are both thinking of one another, while he also unsettles our minds.

Jason… Jason, what is she supposed to feel about him? What is she meant to know? The taste of betrayal still lingers on her tongue, but behind it, something lies deep. A dark curiosity. A need to understand. A voice that says, there is more to this, there is more than you see. Look harder. An indefinite pull to him, the fact that her soul screams to give its love where it's most needed.

Richard has some of the answers — is it her place to ask? Is it his place to tell? Especially when it causes him to be like this? Of course she wants to know. But a part of her refrains.

She wants Jason to tell her. Everything.

And she wants Richard to rest, for now.

It feels fair. It feels right. To choose for herself how things should go. In a way, she is stronger.

She feels it in her hands. Her heart.

When the movie ends, she looks his way.


He doesn't realize how weak he actually is until she lays a gentle hand on his arm.

He thought he was imagining her peeking at him throughout the movie — which felt more like torture than it really should've — and then her stare as he walked to the bathroom.

He has no idea what time it is, only that it's dark and he would rather fall into the void than think another scrambled thought.

And then. Oh. Her.

Her.

Oh yeah, she let him forget for a little. He looked at her and helped him put his brain away.

Oh.

She follows him into his room, and if that's her humming and he's not going batshit insane, he likes it and he loves it.

He feels her presence lulling him to sleep, but then reality strikes his head and it spins. He turns to her in a panic, breath coming short. Fuck.

"Shhh," she hushes him, guiding him to his bed. "Do not worry about it right now."

"J-J-Jay."

"It is the okay."

"His body wasn't—"

She gently pushes him to sit. And his legs are just so fucking weak, he practically collapses and hunches over.

She sits on her knees and looks up at him. "Shhh. I know. It is alright…"

"How? How do you know?" he says in a rushed breath, his heart rate spiking.

She takes his shaking hands in her warm ones. He can't help but whine and lean down, pressing his forehead to hers.

God, she gives him one little bit. One little bit and he's gone. He's hers. She breaks him.

Not like you handle yourself well in the first place.

"You do not have to say it." She smiles sweetly and God, she's so pretty. "I understand. But you must rest now. You must be so tired…"

Is he? Is he tired?

He snorts, or something. "I am. I'm really tired."

What's he tired of? Should he make a list?

"Can you lie down? Please?" She brushes her fingers along the hair by his temple and he almost passes out. "For me?"

For her? Fucking anything.

He nods and kind of smiles. He tries to, again, but he gets it, so it doesn't really matter. But he's still sad when she pulls away.

"May I?" she says, fingering the edge of his mask.

"Yeah," he croaks.

She peels it off gently. He cracks his eyes open and he fights the urge to hide. What's the use in hiding from her anymore?

She stands and sets his mask on his desk. He takes the chance to get under the blanket and lay on his back. Fuck, it's stiff. And it hurts.

She sits on the bed beside him, and it makes him feel like he almost died and she's visiting him at the hospital out of pity. Relax. You worry her for no reason, that's why she's here.

He only now notices her pajamas, her baby pink tank top and fluffy pink pajamas. And the same stuffed cat she was holding onto all night. It makes him smile, and finally, it comes easy and lazy.

She calms him down.

She leans over and it blocks the light a bit. He blinks up at her, and he wonders if this is actually a dream. A very vivid one.

She lifts the blanket slightly and tucks the cat by his side. "I believe you need her more than I do."

He laughs, and she smiles, dimples and all, and she looks like a melody.

"You think so?" he says.

"Mhm."

"Alright," he sighs.

She brushes his hair back from his forehead and he relishes the feeling, the way his whole body tingles with the softness of it. "Are you in any pain?"

"Not with you," he says without thought.

And he — wow, how embarrassing can he get? He turns to the side and tries to hide his blush, but he already knows he failed.

She giggles softly. "That is a good thing, is it not?"

"Yeah," he breathes. "I just don't wanna make you feel like—"

She shushes him again and makes him face her with her fingertips on his cheek. He feels his body go slack, he feels himself open to her, his eyes wide and trained on her.

She leans in, and his breath hitches. Her scent wraps warm around him. Her thumb smoothes over his brow, over and over.

"Go to sleep, Richard. You must rest now," she coos.

Then her lips press to the top of his forehead and he all but melts into a dream. His eyelashes flutter against her skin.

"You need to take care," she whispers, her hand running through his hair.

And he grins. He grins like a goddamn fool.

"Will you?" she says.

"Whatever you ask for."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

He hates that she's not close anymore, but his body is heavy, now. He doesn't linger on the feeling long.

"Sweet dreams, Richard." It's the last thing he hears before the world goes dark.


She grips her chest, the pain only strengthening. Her heart, it is swollen, she feels it in the way it beats.

The way he looked at her… why must he hurt himself this way? As if he has not been cared for…

But it is too heavy to carry right now. She cannot sleep — she would rather shake it off, somehow.

For now, things were okay. He is asleep, safe and sound. Whatever they need to do, they will handle it.

Tomorrow.

She walks down the hall and knocks on her friend's door. "Raven?"

Immediately, it opens. She plops down on the bed beside her, the candles illuminating the room already soothing her. Raven looks up from the open book in her lap.

"It has been awhile…" Kori says, tapping her forefingers together.

Raven shrugs. "It doesn't matter." Then she smiles slightly. "I don't mind the company."

She grins before curling into a ball at the foot of the bed. "Of course."

"Things have gotten better."

It is not a question. Kori sighs and shifts onto her back. "Has it?"

"It's… definitely gotten easier."

"You did not even speak to me when I…"

"The picture. It didn't feel right to tell you. It was too heavy."

She nods. "I understand. But Raven…"

"Yes?"

"I regret your involvement. This is not something you should be suffering from. I just want to let you know that I am doing my absolute best to mend the pain."

"You don't need to tell me," is all she says.

Kori smiles sadly. "Of course I do."

"Well, you're getting somewhere, aren't you?"

"I believe so. I believe… that I can help, somehow."

"Help them, or help yourself?"

X'hal, choosing them over me is bad?!

Kori groans and rolls onto her stomach. "I do not wish to think about myself any longer!" she says, but it's muffled by the blanket.

"Wanna read?"

"I would not mind."

Raven leans over to her bedside table and pulls a book from the bottom of a pile. "I got this awhile ago… I forgot that I got it. It's a romance. It reminded me of you."

Immediately, her eyes fill with tears and her chin wobbles. She can be such a baby sometimes! "You thought of me?" she says, gripping her heart.

Raven rolls her eyes before smiling. "Yes. I think you'll like it."

Kori wipes at her eyes and smiles a watery smile. "That is so kind. Thank you."

She takes the book in her hands, her mind barely registering the words. All she can process is the dark and muted colors, beautiful in their own right. She flips through the pages and inhales its inky scent.

"I love the smell. Why do I not have any books of my own?"

"You're always more interested in clothes and makeup when we go shopping…"

"And jewelry! And those stuffed animals… but please, you must take me to these stores. I promise I will stay next time!"

Raven shakes her head. "You can borrow some of mine. I've got plenty I can recommend."

She smoothes her hand over the paperback cover, enjoying the feel of it beneath her fingertips. "Please do."

"Rae?"

They both look at the door and then each other.

"My hands are full. Open!"

Kori feels her cheeks warm and the embarrassment that creeps into her friend's own face as she sighs. "Do. Not," Raven whispers harshly.

She shrugs, failing to fight against her growing smile.

The door opens to Beast Boy, whose hands are indeed full. His expression twists into one of surprise.

"Uhh… I thought I heard someone…"

She cannot help it. She slaps her hands over her mouth before bursting into a fit of giggles, a giddiness flowing through her.

"Get in already," Raven seethes.

"Okay, okay, sheesh, woman…"

He plops down on the floor beside the bed and lays out a questionable amount of treats that she had not seen just an hour or so before.

"My secret stash," he winks when he catches her eying it curiously. "Don't tell them about it. Especially Cy. He's gonna eat everything…"

"Were you not planning on eating all of this by yourself?" Kori says, laying on her stomach and holding her chin with one hand.

"Hey, I was gonna share. With Rae."

"Don't want anything."

"'Kay, with Star then. Go ahead and live off of herbal tea like it's a full meal."

"Still healthier than you."

"Hm. Can you believe her?" he says, winking again. "She thinks just 'cause her chakras are aligned, she's better than us…"

Raven rolls her eyes. "Are you just going to keep bothering me all night?"

Had he been bothering her through the movie as well? She had not even noticed…

"Until the sun rises," he says through the candy he shoves into his mouth.

Kori giggles and earns a glare from Raven. Then she giggles again, behind her hand this time.

"Wanna watch me play?" Beast Boy asks her, holding up a rectangular device.

"Is this… a video game?" she says, tilting her head.

"Yup. It's pretty sick."

"Is it feeling ill?"

He chuckles and turns the device on, leaning on the mattress below her. "Just watch."

It is a blur of colors and action, but it sets her mind at ease. They spend the next couple of hours like this, reading and eating and joking and playing.

"Hey," he whispers. "I think she fell asleep."

Kori turns to her friend, who is resting peacefully against her pillows. She smiles at the sight.

"I shall go to bed now," she whispers back, taking the book Raven had given her.

"Alright. Night, Star," he says.

"Good night."

The last sight he sees is Beast Boy gently lifting her and tucking her beneath her blanket. Her heart feels swollen again, but it does not hurt like before.

She enters her room, the moonlight streaming in.

For the first time in awhile, she has felt a sense of normalcy. She bears witness to something kind. She falls asleep to the warmth of it.