It's kind of hard to enjoy a road trip when no one wants you near them anyway.
Jason Todd
Jason had been staring blankly at the wall of the car for nearly two hours before he had realized that he was doing it. There's a ringing in his ears, even still, and his eyes are itchy. A cool air brushes over his face, but it's not fresh enough to soothe his nerves. If he looked in a mirror, he wouldn't like what he would see. He reaches up to his face, as if almost in a trance, but snaps out of it when he feels smooth fabric. His mask.
It's only then that he realizes that he's still Robin, complete with cape and body armor.
Well, he's wearing the Robin uniform. He can never be sure if he's still Robin, especially without Bruce's commands.
After all, who's Robin without Batman?
At the thought, his eyes flick up to the front and his thoughts start racing. Carefully, deliberately, he redirects his attention to back window and pulls off his domino mask in one smooth motion. The uniform feels heavy on his shoulders, weighing down his chest. Or maybe that's just him. He's never been one to dwell on the types of feelings that make his stomach churn. He knows he messed up, and all that matters is that he gets out of this situation and back to something he can control.
Back to Robin and Batman, back to Gotham, back to night patrols and early morning cocoa. Back to some semblance of a normal life for a vigilante.
Back home.
Another rush of cool air washes over him, and he breathes it in, closing his eyes and pretending he's perched on top of a building, watching for the Bat-signal. Rachel's stuck her head out the window, pointedly ignoring Dick, who looks like he's been kicked in the stomach. Jason doesn't care about what's going on between them, as long as Dick can take him back where he belongs. He's long past trusting adults to help him, but this is Dick Grayson, original Boy Wonder and Bruce's favorite. He'd understand.
Rachel hates him, he's pretty sure of it, and he can't really blame her. She called him to help so Batman could save them, but instead, she got a failed Robin who had fallen to the Dark Side as soon as the demon had looked at him. Most people hated him as soon as they met him, and he was too good at adding reasons to that. Not to even mention the fact that he had almost killed Gar, and- he let his gaze drift up to the front seat. The hallucination Trigon had put him in had been messed up, but whatever monster he had killed with Bruce's gun- that hadn't been Dick, had it? Had Robin been in there, screaming for help, when Jason shot him?
He swallows hard, pressing the mask to his throbbing forehead. In his mind, he went over the things he knew. He wasn't some inexperienced kid, he could get a hold over himself. Before he managed to do that, though, he felt the car swerving again. He checks behind them anxiously, but the road is dark as far as the eye can see. Not even the glare of distant headlights
"Dick, why are we slowing?" Jason asked, raising an eyebrow, "We need to get to Gotham, like, right now."
Dick snorted, but there was no humor in his voice when he spoke. "I'm trying not to crash the car," he muttered, "Coffee tends to help that, so we're making a pit stop. You want anything?"
It took Jason a moment to realize Dick was talking to him, and not Rachel or Gar.
"I want to get to Gotham, but you can get me a Coke," Jason rolled his eyes. Even when sleep deprived and exhausted, of course the golden Robin would help other people. It was easy to resent him for that, but Jason felt too exhausted even for resentment. Dick sent him a short nod that Jason guessed was answer, and said nothing in response.
The car merges into the exit, slowing and coming to a complete stop at a red light. The glow covers their faces with red, throwing their features into sharp focus. Normally, Jason doesn't mind red lights. He found them as annoying as the next person when he was out on a drive (completely legal) and stupid when he sped past them in the Batmobile (maybe not that legal). But now, the red was blending in with his suit, and it was all over the car, all over the floors, all over the seats. His boots were soaked with it. He held up his hands only to find that they were covered in blood (just red light, just red light) and let out a shudder. He couldn't move, as he brought his hands closer to his face and-
The light turned green.
Jason sagged to the floor in relief, not even bothering to hide his drawn out sigh. The others ignore him, as always, but he doesn't mind. He's not one of them anyway. He needs to get to Gotham, as soon as he could. Sitting here, he's just the glorified chaperone for two kids who wouldn't know the difference between an attack and a retreat if it slapped them across the face. Back home, he could be useful. He could keep crime off the streets, help people like him, and be Robin.
He isn't much good as Jason Todd anyway.
Dick pulls into a parking spot in the back corner of the gas station, an area with almost no light with a good view of the shop entry, as well as the road back to the highway. If they had wanted to steal from the convenience store instead of buying from it, this would be the perfect spot.
Instead of doing the perimeter checks that Bruce would have ordered them to do, Dick just glances in the rearview mirror, checks on Rachel, who seemed to have fallen asleep, and then turns around and made eye contact with Jason.
"Five minutes. I'll be back. Keep the car safe."
Before Jason can open his mouth to say otherwise, the door had open and shut, and Dick was already hurrying towards the store.
Jason waits two seconds, then follows him.
Even before he gets halfway across the parking lot, Dick turns around and glares at him. Jason hadn't so much as scraped the asphalt with his boots, but instead of turning tail, he continues on, walking past Dick as if he doesn't see him. Remember, he's much better at detecting surveillance than you are, his brain reminds him, Much better at fighting because he almost killed you. Much better at getting people to like him.
"What are you doing out here?" Dick whispers through clenched teeth, walking with him, "I told you to wait in the car."
"Maybe I just didn't feel like staying in the car," Jason smirks, feeling triumphant, "You're not Bruce, you can't give me orders."
The older boy pulls them both into the darkness by a dumpster behind the building. There's a security camera on the back of the building that winks at him, red blinking light taunting him.
Dick runs a hand over his face. "Jason, look down at yourself."
Jason crosses his arms instead. He wasn't covered in the red light anymore, but he had no desire to think about the events of the past day. He just needed that camera to stop blinking at him, to go inside the convenience store, get a phone, and call Bruce.
"Jason, you're Robin."
"Hell yeah, I'm Robin! What does that have to do with anything?"
Dick looks like he wants to collapse from exhaustion, but he still gives Jason a tired laugh that sounds pleasant enough, but sets Jason on edge. The red light blinks at him, and suddenly, Jason can't take it anymore. A throwing star falls into his hand, and he's whipped it at the camera before Dick even realizes what's going on. The camera shatters in a spray of sparks and glass, making far more noise than it should.
"Jason!" Dick whispers furiously, "Why-"
"Camera," Jason reports, "Watching us, I don't think there's any more."
The older Robin lets out an exasperated sigh. "Wait here," he says, "I'll be back in a minute. Don't sneak after me, I'll come back to get you."
"Bu-"
"Do you trust me?" Dick asks with wide earnest eyes. It's interesting how he can make himself look so open, yet be so closed at the same time.
Jason stares right back at him and shakes his head. "Not one bit."
"That's okay," Dick agrees, too quickly, "I'm going to get some clothes for you, and make sure no one heard that, okay?" He walks over to the camera, or rather, the pieces of it, and picks out the throwing star. With a second glance to Jason, he pockets the blade, and walks away.
Jason shivers a bit and frowns. Clothes? What does he need clothes for?
He looks down at himself and curses colorfully. If Alfred had been here, he'd have washed Jason's mouth out with soap.
If leaving Gotham with the Titans hadn't convinced Bruce that Jason wasn't good enough, walking into a convenience store in full costume definitely would have.
Irresponsible, a voice supplied in his ear, Paying attention to the wrong details, didn't listen to orders-
"That is your t-shirt, right?" Dick asks mildly, "I wasn't sure if it were yours or Gar's."
"Yeah," Jason paused in front of the door, spotting a pay phone outside the building, "You got any quarters?"
Dick frowned and patted his pockets down, but there was only a single credit card, and a bit of dust.
He rubs the back of his head embarrassed as he held open the door for Jason, and glances back towards the car, where Rachel and Gar hadn't even stirred.
Jason wonders the last time someone's showed him that much concern.
They have a clear view of the entrance from the counter where they order their drinks, two black coffee, tea, and a Coke. It's clear that no one comes to this store even when the road is crowded, which must be once a year, or something like that. There are literal cobwebs in the ceiling corners that the manager struggled to sweep away when he heard them come in.
After placing their order, Dick makes a beeline for the ATM, which surprisingly still worked. He doesn't seem too worried about using his credit card, but Jason guessed that an ancient alien demon… thing wouldn't exactly be able to track their payments. He returned quickly, just as their drinks were arriving. The wad of bills in his hand seemed slightly suspicious, but he stuffed it out of sight before the manager noticed it.
Dick grabbed one of the coffee cups and picked up the sugar dispenser. As Jason watched in confusion, he gave the sugar a slight sniff, nodded slightly, and dumped the entire contents of the dispenser in the cup. Jason made a face at him, and Dick laughed, tired but cheery. He took a sip of the other black coffee.
"Rachel drinks it with a truckload of sugar," he explained quickly.
Jason nodded and looked away, his eyes burning slightly. He swallowed hard and held out his hand.
"Can I have the quarters now?"
Jason drums his left hand against the top of the pay phone to the rhythm to a Metallica song
as his right shakily punches in the number to Bruce's personal cell. He memorized the numbers the first time Bruce told him, as a guarantee, a promise. He could recite them backwards, in Spanish, while concussed, so the numbers definitely hadn't slipped his mind now.
He needs Bruce to tell him that he did the right thing, helped when Batman couldn't, that he would still be able to be Robin. To live.
He wracks up the courage to press the call button, hope quickly draining out of him when the number rings once, twice, then a third time. No, Bruce had said he would pick up. He always picks up.
The call rings out, and Jason stands there dumbly with the phone in his hand for a second before he springs back into action, placing two more quarters into the slot and dialing again. His heart pounds in his throat as the number rings again. Once, twice..Jason slams it down onto the receiver again and slides in two more coins, dialing the only other number that could possibly help.
Before the first ring ends, there was a click as the call was picked up on the other side.
"Hello?" a proper and familiar voice speaks, crackly with static. Jason wants to cry in relief, but he settles for wiping a sleeve sloppily over his eyes and smiling.
"Alfred!"
"Master Jason, it's ever so good to hear from you again. Can we expect you back soon?" Even through the terrible connection, the warmth in the butler's voice was tangible.
Jason clears his throat and tries speaking. "Actually, I need to speak to Bruce, is he there?"
There was an expectant pause, and Jason shifts the phone in his hands, cursing the spotty connection in his head. Then, Alfred sighs and Jason's heart sinks.
His voice seems tired as he tells Jason, "I'm afraid Master Bruce isn't available right now. But-"
Jason clenches his jaw and slams the phone back on the receiver. He sits down beneath the phone, on the slightly damp curb, silently fuming to himself. Bruce wasn't available? Wasn't available?
"You hung up on Alfred?" Dick asks, behind him, "That's low."
Jason turns around slowly, his breath coming fast. He doesn't know how long the golden Robin had been standing there, but he did know that it was none of his business.
"I don't want to go to San Francisco. I want to go back home."
Dick raises his eyebrows. "What, back to the mansion? No thanks."
He turns his back on Jason, towards the car, but Jason grabs his shoulder and whirls him around. "Bruce needs me!" Jason protests, hating how his voice sounded, hating that he looked like he was begging, "I'm Robin! I don't care who you are, but I need to go there! If you don't want to take me, fine, I'll hitchhike or something."
Something dark crosses Dick's expression and Jason nearly takes a step back. He's never seen anyone look so… betrayed.
"Bruce needs you?" Dick scoffs, "News flash, Bruce doesn't need any of us. He didn't even pick up your call!"
The words hurt like a crowbar, smashing against his skull, more than anything because they were true.
Seeing red, Jason growls, and takes a wild swing at Dick. As always, Dick is smarter, faster, better than he was and dodges the punch as if it were nothing.
"Jason-"
"No!" Jason threw another punch that connected with Dick's shoulder. The older Robin didn't even budge, "You don't get to act like this, this is all your fault!"
Dick sighs and loosens his posture. He holds up his hands, a clear sign of surrender and sits down on the curb. It would have been easier if he had been angry. Bruce had taught him how to use his opponents' emotions against them, give him the upper hand. Dick just looked tired and sort of blank.
Jason collapses on the curb next to him, running his fingers over the last of the quarters.
"I thought you said we were going to Gotham."
Dick stares at the slightly damp pavement as if it were the most interesting patch of ground in the world.
"I wanted to, when we left, but I don't know, Jason," Dick folds his hands carefully together, "I'll make sure you get there, I'm sorry for losing my temper. I just don't think I should be there for it."
"But why can't you go to meet Bruce? Or even just go to Gotham?" Jason hates how small his voice sounds, like a bird in front of a lion.
"Because I screwed up!" Dick shouts. His voice echoed around the parking lot, and there was a strangled sort of quality to it that made Jason feel a little bit sick to his stomach. "Because I was there, and I screwed up, and all of you could have died!"
"That's what I do every day!" Jason glares back, "You can't stop me from being Robin. I go out there and risk my life every night because that's what we do. You don't get to abandon-" He cut himself off, heart pounding in his chest as Dick looks at him with a dangerous look in his eyes.
For the first time, he could see why Bruce had taken Dick in, made him Robin.
Dick looks exactly like Batman.
"I abandoned-?" Dick asks quietly, dangerously, "What do you think I abandoned? Bruce? Robin? Because let me tell you, they aren't wor-"
"Yourself!" Jason's hands were shaking slightly, but he clenches them together as he continued on. "You abandoned yourself!"
"Yeah," Dick agrees suddenly, "Yeah, you're right, I did."
He looks at Jason with unreadable eyes and jerks his head to the side. "Come on, let's get back to the car."
"What?"
Jason scrambles up as Dick stands, drinks in a holder clutched in one hand, car keys in another.
"We've got to make a stop in Gotham." He offers Jason a weak grin, and it's not enough. It's the first time that the first Robin hasn't been enough.
It's not an apology, but it's a promise, and Jason doesn't care.
He's going home.
Happy Holidays, everyone! If you enjoyed this chapter, please drop a review :)