Dick sighed heavily, flicking a pebble off the edge of the roof he was currently resting on out of boredom. There were no signals from Tim, meaning Bruce wouldn't be after him, and the security system wasn't back on in Arkam yet, meaning Jason wasn't quite done yet.
Hopefully, that meant whatever he was doing required taking his time to make sure he didn't kill the clown.
He tried to plan what he wanted to say to Jason once he showed up, but quickly gave up. Planning conversations never worked out, because the second word out of the other perosn's mouth would ruin it. Besides, it was Jason, trying to predict what he'd say or what mood he'd be in was twice as doomed an endeavor.
With a lurch of suspense, Dick's wrist computer gave a little bell-like sound, signaling Arkam's systems were being alerted of a danger. Which meant Jason was probably half way here already.
He counted his breaths, trying to breath normally.
Footsteps made a soft pressing sound across the rooftop, but he didn't turn around and forced himself not to react as a shadow sat down beside him.
"Oh, not doing masks tonight then?" Jason's dry tone came, and Dick heard a click as the red helmet that'd become his signature was undone and rested beside him on the ledge. Dick's own mask was in his pocket. He didn't need it for this meeting, and taking it off had done it's job: he got to see Jason.
His Jason.
Shaggy dark brown hair hanging messily in front of bright green eyes, light freckles across pale cheeks and pale lips, pressed in suspicion into a thin line. Despite the fact he'd been dead, he looked older than the last time Dick had seen him… when he was lying in his coffin.
It wasn't something he'd ever thought he'd get to see.
His jaw line was stronger, and pretty much all traces of childhood roundness or youth were long gone, replaced by a hard edge and sharp features.
"Quite staring at me Goldie, you're making me blush." Jason drawled with sharp sarcasm.
Dick let a wild grin free on his lips, hearing his brother's old banter. "Hard to look away from your butt-ugly mug." He shot right back.
"You're telling me—age does not suit the eternal boy wonder." Jason fake complained, point at his brother's face as if it offended him.
"I haven't been the boy wonder in years, Jay. Though, if we're talking in terms of ages, I guess you could still consider it a decent insult seeing as I'm a Teen Titan now."
"A what?" Jason frowned at him. "Please tell me it's not another Young Justice team—the last one was debilitating enough: like heroes needed another reason to see us as sidekicks." He snarked.
Dick rolled his eyes. "It just so happens to be my team, thank you very much, with no connection to the League at all. In fact," He mused, "It is of common opinion Titan's hate the League… though that might have something to do with the fact that I never let our paths cross, but other than that I have no idea why people would think we hate them." Dick shrugged too innocently as Jason frowned at him.
"You really don't contact the League?" He said as if he still didn't believe what Dick had alluded to earlier.
Dick shrugged, looking distractedly out at the city under them. "Truly." He confirmed. "Honestly, the fact you've seen dad in the past twenty four hours means you've had about ten times as much contact as I have since you died." He grimaced a little, but forced himself to say it.
Died.
Because yes, Jason was dead. They had to get over that quickly, seeing as he very much wasn't anymore.
"He's not my dad," Jason snarled under his breath, but not to Dick really, more in general. He took that as a good sign that Jason had gotten all his more violent aggression out on the Joker and wasn't up to killing him tonight too. "But I mean, the League's ok with this? They just let you be?" He wondered aloud, sounding even more doubtful.
"Well, they don't exactly know I'm the leader of the Titans-"
"Oh, finally got yourself a leading gig then?" Jason chuckled, which Dick pointedly ignored with an irritated sniff.
"They don't realize I'm the new hero in town." He continued forcefully ignoring Jason's jibe. "Just as I'm sure no one but the Bat realizes you're the new, uh… anti-hero in town, shall we say?"
Jason snorted. "Anti-hero. Way to get all Literature-y on me."
"That's not a word."
"Says you! The guy who butchers languages for fun!"
"Touché. Anyway, now I'm Nightwing who is the leader of the Teen Titans in Jump city which is the headquarters for Titans East and other such Titan off-shoots as well as a global network of other honorary Titans, or really just good people who are not adults and decent heroes willing to help. We're a big system but it all works out well, and for some reason the public thinks we hate the League even though it's just me avoiding them in case they were to recognize me and then tell Batman."
"Woah, woah, woah! Nightwing? Seriously? Haven't you had enough of the 'Bird Boy' crap?"
"Really? Of everything I just said, that's what you're hung up about?"
"Well, personally, I was only Robin for a little bit and even that got me all frustrated about being called Bird Boy. I don't even want to know why you picked yet another bird theme."
"First of all— you have a very short temper, so being called Bird Boy for a day would easily upset you, and secondly—I was the one who chose the name 'Robin' in the first place and I happen to like bird themes, so screw you."
Jason bit his lip to keep from laughing and breaking his "I am too cool for this" façade he'd adopted as Red Hood, and Dick couldn't help but grin back like the child he was at heart. It'd been so long since they could talk like this, and it was a gift Dick never thought he'd get again. All they needed now was Tim and it truly would be his dream come true.
Once they calmed down, Jason looked out at the city thoughtfully.
"I guess I'm a bit behind on the times." He noted.
"Just a bit." Dick said sarcastically. "Only a couple Apocalypses, and minor revolution in the hero world, but besides that, nothing too bad." He agreed. Jason gave him an exasperated look. Dick knew that look, but he wasn't giving in that easily. "I'll tell you my side of the last year if you tell me yours." He demanded. Jason looked pisssed off again, but grunted, which Dick dutifully took as a 'yes'.
"The second we heard you'd been killed, I was making the gun and had it finished the night after your funeral." Dick began, feeling odd saying things like "you died" and "your funeral" to a very alive person sitting next to him. Janos didn't even bat an eye though, just nodding along like it made sense to what he'd already put together. Dick supposed he probably was used to such terminology by now. "I know you don't care about the specifics, but essentially it's a tranquilizer gun that releases a mix of drugs when fired into something with a pulse. There are some commercial drugs and private use things, but the main one is something I created myself that attacks the part of the brain that makes things funny. I'd already made the drug years ago, so it was just a matter of perfecting the bullets in practice…"
Jason nodded. "I suspected as much." He agreed, remembering that argument long ago. "You talked about it once or twice before and got Bruce pissed at you for it. But I thought scientists didn't know which part of the brain was the funny bone?" He honestly didn't know where he heard that but credited it to one of Dick's 'science lectures' when he geeked out on them.
He figured he was right when Dick gave him an impressed look that he knew that. "No, they don't, but they often assume it's in the frontal lobe because people in motorcycle accidents who crush that part of their skulls when they don't wear helmets often have a change in their sense of humor if they recover. I guessed."
"You guessed which part to set your freakish drug on?" Jason exclaimed, exasperated. It was such a Dick thing to do. "And here I thought you were a genius." He scoffed.
Dick rolled his eyes. "It was an educated guess, but a guess none the less. And it worked didn't it?" He demanded, and Jason just grumbled good-naturedly, ignoring him. "Anyway… I took that new weapon and, uh… sort of orchestrated a mass break out in Arkam to release the Joker again and sort of caused a car crash or two in order to herd him where I wanted him." He finished quickly, with a slightly guilty shrug.
Jason stared at him.
"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies that way." Dick smirked, and Jason shook off his shock and closed his jaw with a snap.
"What the hell, Dickie?!" He sighed.
"I told you I had to leave Gotham quickly after that. I'm sure I'm not the Golden Boy anymore after that, as you like to tease me that I am. I ran away to Jump and covered up who I was with the Nightwing mantle because, while I'm not on as bad of terms as you now are with him, I'm certainly not on good terms either. Bruce was SO not happy, though you'll have to ask Timmy about that seeing as I wasn't here for the aftermath."
Jason frowned, sensing there was more to it, and gave Dick a curious look.
Dick sighed sadly, the explained, "I cornered the Joker and pumped him with bullets to make sure he wouldn't be laughing for a bit and then turned tail and ran. It was a full half hour since the breakout and I was sure Bats would be there at any moment… but I later figured out Tim ran a mock program to make it seem like nothing was wrong and give me a head start."
Jason gaped again.
"That kid is my new hero." Jason muttered under his breath. "Bet Bruce was pissed…"
Dick nodded, not bothering to point out that he'd slipped and called their dad Bruce instead of another derogatory term.
"He is still young but… but I think if he'd been able, if he'd been ready… I think he might've did the same thing." Dick mused.
"What do you mean?" Jason frowned.
Dick shrugged. "Well… I went against Bruce to go after the Joker because I already had one foot out the door and not doing anything was almost as bad as losing you in the first place," He sighed. "Bruce and I have always had our differences, but they were workable and when you spend that much time with someone, you're bound to disagree, and in the end our conflict made us stronger… but this one was too far. I couldn't consolidate doing nothing. Not killing even, but doing nothing…?"
Jason could only stare in wordless agreement. He didn't know what to do, whatever was going on in his chest was sure as hell foreign as it was unwelcome.
He supposed you could call it being touched.
What Dick was saying was all he ever wanted Bruce to think too but…. Well, at least he had his brother on his side at the very least. It was so much more than he'd been expecting, and it was… actually, really wonderful.
He kept the emotions off his face, and if Dick noticed he said nothing, probably too caught up in his little rant.
"My point is that I was already moving in the direction of leaving. I didn't have YJ anymore, and that really was the last place I was ever Robin seeing as you were Robin in Gotham by then, and had been for over two years, and even when you were gone I wasn't about to step back into it. I'd outgrown it and it was Tim's time… terrible as that progression was. Tim must've cried for three days straight over your cape, to the point I was almost fairly certain he wouldn't do it but… you know him." Dick sighed heavily, his eyes full of the pain of remembering.
"Right little soldier he is." Jason agreed softly, fully seeing Bruce requesting he take up the mantle and Tim being nothing but responsible and determined to do them proud. It was just so Tim.
Despite what he'd said to Bruce, he didn't really blame Tim for taking up the cape. He didn't see his little brother as his 'replacement', though he'd blame Bruce in a second for making it seem that way. When in costume, Batman would be as stoic as ever and treat Robin the same as if the person behind the mask had never changed. He did the same thing to Jason once he replaced Dick, and he had always expected it for when it was Tim's turn.
"Yeah, he is." Dick agreed with a heavy voice. "But… the message I'm trying to get across is that I was already moving out: I had the training and the wits to get by out there alone, but Tim didn't. He hadn't been Robin yet, he hadn't had the same real-world training yet of dealing with villains and heroes face-to-face, and I already had the plan in place… but, if Tim were ready to go out, if he had the option of fleeing Gotham…"
"He would have been the one with a gun." Jason concluded.
"In a heartbeat." Dick nodded vehemently. "And… he is a soldier, not a scientist like I tend to be, so it probably wouldn't have been a modified gun either."
Jason blinked, trying to absorb that.
He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His brothers were… were actually almost… almost with him. BOTH brothers. This was unbelievable.
They sat in silence for a moment while Jason tried to wrap his head around this, and Dick decided to shelf this conversation for a bit and finish his story.
"Before I left, Tim said Beast Boy had quit the Doom Patrol and was a free agent now, so once I left Gotham I headed in that direction and ended up in Jump City. There I ran into not only BB but three other teen heroes and we formed a team of our own. We built a tower and a reputation after a bit, and things sort of went from there. We run into other young heroes from time to time that are all good people and reliable heroes so we make them honorary Titans to call if they need help, or to be called if we need help. It's sort of like the League set-up, except there are no requirements to get in other than that we know and trust them to count on, and there's this unspoken rule they have to be on the young side—so they're not the big iconic heroes or anything, the 'just starting out' kind of heroes." He explained.
"And now there are more than one team?" Jason prompted, actually looking interested, much to Dick's amusement.
"Well, yeah, the Titans earned a big enough reputation to actually have some weight behind it, and there were so many honorary Titans that wanted to be heroes full-time like we were that we helped them form their own teams as Titan off-shoots. Titan's East was the first, and then Titans West, South, and North followed quickly, and now there's a lot of pressure to form another one though since we used the directions as names, I have no clue what we're going to name the next one…" he mused.
"And you get final say in this then?" Jason accused.
"Actually, yes. To have credibility they need to have the Titan name behind them, and to get the Titan credibility they actually need to work as a team. Titan's East just sort of happened before were figured out what we were doing, but we had a lot of say in who went into the other three. The people had to fit together both as friends and as an effective team with all the aspects like a techie and a big muscle factor and all that jazz. I personally remember how difficult it was to figure out how to work in Young Justice after working in a partnership for so long, and I figured if the people going into a team initially were just compatible off the bat and were already decent heroes, they'd skip that awkward stage and just go right to being an awesome team."
"Oh that's right, I forgot, you're a freak who likes to analyze these things until you can just pick and choose people like puzzle pieces off the top of your head, right?" Jason rolled his eyes. "For someone so normal looking, you really are a great big geek on the inside, aren't you?" He teased.
"Guilty." Dick sniffed in mock seriousness, and Jason rolled his eyes.
"And you're the one in charge, the leader of all this?" Jason marveled.
"I guess. Officially yes, but it is truly a casual set-up in every way the League isn't. There are no membership cards, only a communicator given out if they want to call for help, or respond to a cry for help if they can. When I found the original team, they were all brand new heroes who had no clue what they were doing, with the exception of Beast Boy, but he was so young and had spent his entire hero career following orders to the tee that he wasn't much better off except he could fight and use his abilities well. I, by far, had the most experience and actually knew what I was doing on top of knowing what needed to be done so… it just sort of worked out like that. They made it official so there were no issues, but really it is a team effort and there're no mentors to report to or get in trouble with. It's just us as we do it." He shrugged.
"And you do it full time? With a base and everything?"
"Yep." He nodded happily, popping the 'p'. "With a giant tower shaped like a 'T' on an island in plain view for all the city. The complete opposite in visibility of the Batcave."
"I'll say." Jason muttered sarcastically. Of course it would be Dick who'd go for the showy part. He loved attention both in and out of costume, as a side effect of spending the first seven years of his life near-perpetually under a giant spotlight in the middle of the air. "Where'd you get the cash for that? Not quite as cut off from dad as you let on?" Jason half-teased, half accused.
Dick gave him an affronted look, but he could see the flicker of humor in his sapphire eyes. "Why do people think I can't fend for myself? I am a child prodigy and boy genius as you're so kind as to tease me about every five minutes!" He complained and Jason snickered. "So far as the public knows, Richard Grayson is being a part-time playboy on a global scale (like father like son, after all), and part-time stock-broker on Wall Street, who only works for the most private customers and never picks a bad investment."
Jason nodded, impressed. "And how'd you pull that off?" He smirked. "Being a playboy I mean, when you don't leave Jump?"
Dick cackled evilly. "I have my ways." He assured him, his wild grin telling Jason there was probably a lot of computer hacking and super-tech trickery going on to bring that story to life. "Honestly, the stock market isn't hard at all when you've got a brain wired to think that way, the hacking abilities to know what's going to happen in the world before it happens, and the deductive skills to know which stocks are best with that information. Sure, I take a customer every now and then just to keep the front alive and my reputation out there, but it's mostly to fund the Titans. I can't tell you how many times our tower's gotten destroy- it's ridiculous! On top of the other teams now and every time their towers get trash…" He shook his head in mock- frustration, and Jason laughed.
"Only you." He scoffed.
And it was true: only Dick could pull this off. Running a global network of underage heroes, keeping it under control along with all the villains those heroes undoubtedly stir up, pretending to be a playboy/stock broker without ever leaving his city, and finding the time to hack the absurd amounts necessary to pull it all off? On top of being a full-time hero and leader of a team himself. All under the League's nose without any of the other heroes or villains who know him so well suspecting a thing.
He must never sleep, Jason decided. Stupid Bat insomnia was something Jason had always found eternally annoying and yet grudgingly helpful. Dick just took it to the most ridiculous level though—never sleeping and yet always seeming bright and annoyingly chipper at all hours of the day.
"Yes, I'm amazing." Dick agreed, and ducked the shove Jason tried to throw his way. "So, that's that." He finished in a business-like way. "The Titans are going strong now, and I was just about to get into another mission for a string of robberies going on when Tim sent me a message and took a little detour here. Your turn." He prompted, then rested his chin on his hand and looked at Jason expectantly.
Jason growled at him, but didn't protest.
"You already know most of it. I know Tim's told you pretty much everything by now." He pointed out.
"What? That Ra al Ghul dug up your corpse and put it in his freak pit to bring you back to life and that you returned to Gotham to go on a killing spree of criminals, beat up the Bat, and kill the Joker? Yes, I got all that—but I also know you weren't dead for that entire year, and I'm curious." Big blue eyes looked imploringly at him, and Jason looked out at the city to avoid the innocent curiosity.
As an older teenager quickly approaching being an adult, how the hell did Dick still manage to portray the cute little eight-year-old gypsy that got adopted by Bruce Wayne? Jason didn't even know him back then, and still, he didn't need an overactive imagination to be able to picture it precisely. It was like he was unable to grow up… or perhaps he already had.
He was a child genius in the truest sense, so he was obviously smarter than most adults when he was still a toddler. He was a child, with the mind of a super-advanced adult. Perhaps as his mind raced ahead, he held fast to his childlike innocence because that was who he was. He was a child, and he was smart. Physical age had nothing to do with it, until the point where no matter what age he was, he would always be a smart child—he would always be Dick, this Dick, this childlike super genius. While some kids could still mature and change who they are as they grow, Dick was who he was when he was still small, and that wasn't going to change, age be damned.
Sure, Jason had seen his older brother be every much the serious adult he needed to be, but he had no doubt Dick was capable of that persona when he was four, and not just because he'd "grown up" any. This was Dick, and that wasn't going to change.
Somehow that was comforting: Dick would never go back on his word because he would never switch his thinking as he got more mature and saw things differently. Everything he did and said were after more thought and consideration than Jason was sure he himself was even capable of, with every contingency plan made and fault with his logic thought out and dealt with before he could even speak a word in his defense. When Dick said something, he meant it.
But, knowing all this only made it harder for Jason to put a voice to the past year. For one, the childlike way Dick took to things made him slightly nervous to speak about the… horrors, he supposed he should call it, though he knew full well Dick had seen and experience equal to and worse troubles in the past, and that he was older than him. Despite that, the kid-like look in his big blue eyes made him nervous, like he didn't want to corrupt him or anything, though his brain knew full well that was utter crap. Dick was more grown up that he'd ever be, but he just didn't act like it and therefore… he hesitated. Stupid as it was.
Secondly, knowing what he did about Dick's decision making process and the way he thought… if, he didn't like what he heard, if he didn't approve of Jason's new life, if he didn't condone it and wanted him to stop… well, Jason would lose a brother.
Because Dick wouldn't ever change his mind about it, he'd never come around to see it his way as he grew up and realized life sucked and suddenly agreed with Jason's approach, because Dick already knew full well how badly life sucks and yet still managed to be the happy-go-lucky one despite it. Dick would never come around, and HE himself sure as hell wasn't about to feel guilty and stop murdering the bastard filth that deserved to die, and therefore their relationship would crumble.
This, here, this talking and brotherly thing they'd been enjoying for the past fifteen minutes would end, and it would end for good.
So he hesitated.
But he wouldn't be Jason Todd if he wasn't bullheaded and fearless, so he heaved a sigh and spat it out.
"Joker beat me to death with a crowbar and then blew up the building I was in. Bats didn't save me in time and I was buried in an unmarked grave outside of Gotham, completely dead with the whole mortician make-over and fancy coffin thing for a full four months until Ra al Ghul sent his cronies to dig me up and get me back to his place. I took a swim in the Lazarus Pit and suddenly woke up in what felt like a lake of acid."
He grit his teeth, the memory forcing him to swallow before he could continue talking.
"Do you remember…?" Dick prompted gently, and Jason didn't need any further hints to know what he was talking about.
"No." He growled. "From my point of view it was just the pain of the crowbar to the pain of the bomb to the pain of the acid magic water." He clenched his fists and glared at them. Dick shot him a sympathetic look, but done in a way that only a fellow Bat could. It was sympathy, but with a streak of acknowledgement that they wouldn't try to understand, because no one could ever understand. It wasn't pity, but a silent agreement that you had suffered, and they were sorry for that without wasting their breath on trying to relate or wasting energy trying to make you feel better, because they couldn't. Somehow that made it better than flat out comfort that often just belittled your pain. It made you feel like you were stronger because of it.
Jason sighed in defeat. "I do have dreams though… when they're not the typical nightmares that seem to be requirements before becoming a Bat, or about the pain and… well, just pain, there are some that are… nice almost, I guess."
"Nice how?" Dick wondered curiously.
Jason let a corner of his lips turn up just that little bit.
"Nice as in… peaceful kinda. Just… I couldn't ever explain it, but I can separate them clearly in my head. The pain, those are memories of the things I've lived through… but the nice is things I… I haven't."
He let in hang there, and he knew Dick must be wondering the same things he was. He hoped… despite himself he hoped. Life did suck, but after… perhaps that didn't. He could be cynical, mistrustful, and violent here all he wanted but… he could be hopeful that it wouldn't always be like this. Perhaps there was an end. A happily ever after, corny as that sounded.
"I can't explain what the nice things are exactly, but…"
"They're nice." Dick concluded, and Jason nodded absently.
"Yeah… they are. They really are." He sighed again. If only the nice dreams would happen more often. He was so calm when he thought of the nice things, but then he started thinking about the Joker, and Bruce, and criminals, and…
Then he got pissed, and he forgot to think about the nice things. Most of the time he forgot the nice things even existed, they so easily slipped his mind, like a mirage he couldn't ever look straight at. He was blinded by the inexplicable rage and furious pain, the never ending torment his life seemed to be, and the nice things slipped away.
He forgot where he heard it, but he supposed it might've been Dick again. It was an old saying, 'The good things don't come close to balancing the bad, but they do make the bad just that much more bearable'.
He'd experienced so much bad in the past year it was a miracle he hadn't just taken one of his guns and blown his own brains out rather than put up with it all. Death wasn't so bad the first time around, at least, it wasn't compared to what living in this second life was.
"Jason…" Dick's soft voice called him back from his thoughts and he blinked them away.
He shook it off and thought back, trying not the glare or grimace when he thought of it. "Basically… I came back, but I came back a bit screwed up. I couldn't think straight and it felt like someone had pulled out my brain, put it in a blender, then shoved it back through my ears. I don't remember the first couple months except that it hurt… a lot. I went back once I'd collected myself and found out I'd run away, jumped out a window into the ravine a mile beneath al Ghul's palace which probably should've killed me if I hadn't still been wet from the pit."
He spoke in a dull voice, and tried to ignore how white Dick had gotten. He knew he was just worried, but it still bugged him to see his older brother so freaked. He was the one to live it after all.
"I figured I ran around the wilderness and just… lost it." He shuddered involuntary. Most of his nightmares stemmed from the insanity that followed him. "When I finally regained some sense… well, it'd been a long time. I found the nearest city and figured out my way. Living on the streets wasn't hard, I'd done it all my life before Br-uh, Bats and you found me. I just… didn't bother with pretending I was a hero anymore, I just didn't care. I was too tired. I robbed dozens of stores and several banks to get the gadgets and connections I needed. I got a new mantle and toyed around Europe, and finally got around to realizing what I was so angry about all the time and then made up a game plan. Mainly as you already said: kill criminals, get the Joker, find Batman. I got better with guns until I felt I was decent enough to use them out on the streets, then came back to Gotham and started cleaning up the drug trade. Full circle."
Dick remained silent for a long time.
Jason jumped a bit as he was suddenly trapped in a big hug from his older brother, and though he probably could escape if he felt like pushing the shorter boy off the building, he felt that would be a bit harsh, even for him.
Besides… he'd never admit it aloud… but he kind of missed Dick's hugs.
A little.
Barely at all.
… but he still didn't push him away, and closed his eyes, memorizing the comforting, familiar feel of Dick silently saying he loved him.
The older boy pulled away and looked out at the city without saying a thing, something Jason found he suddenly greatly appreciated. Words would only mess it up, and he was fairly sure there was nothing even Dick could say that would make it better or less horrible at all.
The silence was enough. It was an acknowledgement that Jason had suffered, and that his older brother was there for him if he asked… but he wouldn't suffocate him with the worry he was undoubtedly feeling now.
It was… just what he needed to hear.
Nothing.
Yes, that was good.
It was even better that he wasn't commenting on the theft or the guns or the murder either.
"The Pit usual doesn't mess with people's head though, does it?" Dick suddenly wondered aloud. Jason found this distancing, this scientific way Dick took to things oddly comforting. It was just so him to do that, and he himself had said earlier that he was often more like a scientist than anything, especially when he was curious. It helped to imagine Dick overanalyzing things and lost in thought about some technical thing that fascinated him, just like he always used to do, rather than associate Jason's own memories with the subject.
"No, I don't think so. But it's never been used to bring someone back to life before, not to mention the fact they were probably well on their way to decomposition by then." Jason pointed out, and neither of them felt like mentioning how Jason was talking in third person about it.
"No… I suppose there would have been… other things happening there that couldn't have gone over well." Dick aloud, obviously deep in thought about it and trying not to talk out loud so as not to set Jason off. He wanted to roll his eyes at his big brother's babying, but at the same time was grateful he was keeping it quiet. He really didn't want to hear it.
"Perhaps it was just me reacting badly to the pain rather than some mystic crap going on." Jason huffed. "Maybe losing my mind was all my doing rather than the Pit's." He shrugged, glaring out at the city. He felt Dick's eyes on him, but pointedly ignored it.
"Is the Joker dead?" Dick blurted out. Jason whipped his head around in surprise and the blunt and rapid subject change.
"No." He said shortly. They left it at that and fell into silence for a moment.
"Are there any plans on him being dead in the future?" Dick hedged.
Jason raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you planning on taking this gun back?" He challenged, pulling out the one Dick had modified out and brandishing it demandingly.
"No." Dick said truthfully.
"Then… no." Jason responded evenly, and they fell silent again.
"I was thinking about updating the bullets you know. Streamlining the drug, trying new things…" Dick mused aloud. Always the scientist, Jason thought with an internal eye roll.
"Feel free." He replied shortly.
More silence.
"Have you ever heard of Bludhaven?" Dick said suddenly again, and Jason glanced up at him.
"Nope. Am I supposed to have?"
Dick shrugged. "You said to Bruce—and by proxy Tim and by proxy me— that your methods are what Gotham needs, and whether I agree with that— or if you'd even listen to me if I didn't—or you actually are right for the city really doesn't matter right now. Not with Bruce already firmly implanted here with this city as his territory. You know how he gets."
"Interesting start." Jason said warily.
Dick rolled his eyes. "You know how Gotham is called a city without hope?"
"Uh… I guess I've heard that someplace." He allowed, still cautious. In fact, Gotham was referred to as a city without hope by pretty much everyone who didn't live in Gotham, and the people who did live here were too afraid to say anything like that, though it could be assumed they believed that more than anyone.
"People who live in Bludhaven vacation in Gotham." Dick said, looking Jason square in the eye and his blue irises seemed to be speaking louder than his words.
It clicked a second later.
"Huh… guess I could, uh, check it out or something." He nodded, glancing back out at the skyline.
"And I could, you know, stay very, very far away from there." Dick said cheerfully.
Now it was Jason's turn to roll his eyes. "You sound like you're trying to get rid of me."
"Is it that obvious?"
"Shut up midget."
Dick looked affronted. "So you've been taller than me since we were kids, congratulations you don't have to point it out every five seconds!" He complained, and they both fought smirks.
"Eh, makes me feel better." Jason grinned evilly, getting up and standing on the edge of the building.
In all honesty, this was a welcome development. Pretty much the only one of the night actually. After beating that sadistic clown to a pulp, Jason didn't really know what direction this new life was supposed to take.
Yell at Bruce? Check.
Beat the clown? Check.
Reunite with his brother? Not on the plans, but altogether a welcome turn of events so, check.
He had no direction now, and this new city sounded rather appealing. He could really set up shop and figure out his territory and possible cure a city of crime and beat out his frustrations with his pain in one go. Two birds, one stone.
But… he didn't want this to be goodbye forever.
"Dick…" Dick pausing in his bouncing at getting ready to take off.
"Yeah?"
Jason clenched his jaw. Again with the stubbornness, he spit it out.
"I'm not asking your permission or approval but… you don't mind my methods?" He demanded, looking his square in his searing blue eyes.
Dick was silent for a moment, and Jason could just hear the gears turning in his head. He was doing the 'overanalyze' thing again, and Jason knew whatever he said now was his official position in it: it wouldn't change.
Finally, he let out a tired breath. "I think… I think Tim put it nicely earlier: I don't like the killing, but you are my brother. I don't think I could kill like that, nor would I hesitate in stopping any other person who tried to do what you're doing, but… it's you. As clearly biased as it is, that's the way I see it. Tim and I, both of us, we're with you because you're our brother and you're supposed to count on family before anything else. We don't like it, but we will always be on your side the best we can." He let out a big sigh as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Jason couldn't help but agree completely.
"…thanks." He said quietly, but as sincere as he could, which was totally unlike him. Dick just nodded, not even giving a teasing smile at the break of character, but acknowledging the weight of what he just said.
Because Dick honestly stood with him, and it was all Jason wanted, and he was earnestly grateful for it. He knew this decision would not be easy for Dick or Tim, and would force them to play peacemaker between Jason and the hero world—force them to take sides they didn't want to take, in a battle where they agreed full-heartedly with both sides. Siding with him wouldn't effect Jason in any way, except make his life ten times better, but it would undoubtedly hurt them greatly.
And they were doing it anyway.
For the first time in over a year, Jason felt a surge of emotion that wasn't altogether tinged or tainted with anger or pain.
He wasn't a poet, but love would probably cover it pretty well.
He forgot being a hard ass for a minute and pulled Dick into a proper hug, which he was obviously shocked about for a moment before hugging him back happily.
In order to preserve one ounce of normality in his life, Jason let go quickly and pretended like he hadn't just done that… but not before secretly memorizing the sense of comfort it gave him first.
When the pain was bad, at least he'd have that to remember. One good thing to think about in this life, a tangible memory he could remember from this world to make it a little less horrible.
"Don't let this fool you- I will kick your ass if you start killing in Jump or some other hero's city, nor will I stop Tim or Bruce or a Titan from doing the same, got it?" Dick broke him out of his thoughts.
Jason grinned at him. "Sure, sure, whatever you say Goldie."
"No, I'm serious Jay!" Dick warned, though his blue eyes twinkled at seeing Jason so lively and happy.
"Oh, I believe you…" Jason said with a grin, already planning ways to toe the line to its absolute max without Dick actually killing him for a second time. "And what, you wouldn't let a Leaguer kick my ass?" He complained.
"Probably not because they'd actually kill you or send you to some max security prison forever and ever!" Dick huffed. "All I'm saying is that you can do what you see is right, but just stay out of the way of the people who will actually try and stop you. The Bats will keep a distance out of… respect I guess, family ties and whatnot, but not if you get too close to home, and others definitely won't if they get a good reason to stop you, so stay off their radar, got it? No killing heroes either! Only the guilty please?"
Jason just grinned knowingly, but in that patronizing way he knew annoyed his big brother. It was all fine, he planned on doing all of that anyway, he may have been violent and completely rouge, but he wasn't stupid, nor suicidal despite what one might assume.
"Yes, mother!" He scoffed, chuckling as he slipped his helmet back on.
"Oh! And stop by to see Tim some time. It's all nice and well I got to see you, but he's still freaking out." Dick said.
"Sure, sure." He agreed, though he wondered how on earth he was supposed to separate Robin from Batman in Gotham. That just didn't work very well… though maybe if he went in as Jason Todd? People did think he'd just run away, and Bruce couldn't attack him in public like that without blowing cover… but that would alert the hero world he was alive as well, which he wasn't too fond of either.
"Oh, and one more thing," Dick brought him out of his planning.
"Seriously? You really are my mother, aren't you?" Jason snapped sarcastically.
Dick just rolled his eyes and slipped something into his hands. Jason saw it was a little round communicator with a big white 'T' on it. "It's as secure as humanly possible, and since I designed/built it, you already know how to disable the tracking unit if you don't want it, but know only the Titan database a mile under the main tower has access to it for emergencies."
Jason looked at the device and wordlessly slipped in into one of the many pockets of his army cargo pants.
"You weren't exaggerating, you really don't have any standards for being a Titan, do you?" He scoffed with a smile, though Dick couldn't see it.
"That's the only way you'd ever be on a team, Jay." He chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder and moving past him towards the other side of the roof, slipping his mask on.
"Catch ya later, Bird Boy." Jason smirked.
"Death breath." Dick nodded in mock seriousness, then slipped into the shadows with that eerie cackle of his before Jason could decide to shoot him for the new nickname.
"Not funny D!" He yelled into the darkness, only half sure Dick was still close enough to hear. "Not funny at all…" He muttered to himself, but couldn't help the honest smile creeping over his lips as he turned and vanished into the shadows.