Chapter Text
The distant echo of a sonic boom tore Dick’s attention away from his first kiss with Jason Todd in five fucking years, adrenaline from the fight still coursing, and unable to push away where they were, what they were doing, and who was unconscious at their feet. Bruce was already looking up and away, towards the slowly rising sun through the alcove’s opening, and Dick didn’t want to stop, he didn’t want to pull away, but Jason had heard that thundering boom too, and he already had a sharp curse on the tip of his tongue just as Superman broke the rays of light, silhouetted by the sun is the most dramatically fitting way possible, cape sweeping behind him as he descended, all eyes on Bruce.
“Are you alright?” Clark demanded of his— well, whatever they were after the Damien Wayne bomb had been dropped. Dick really, really hoped things would work out. Hopefully— “Oracle said something in your ear, and I could tell you were distressed before you left. Is there anything I—”
Clark cut himself off, eyes finally landing on the living-ghost in the room, and those same eyes went wide as saucers. “Jason,” he breathed, a smile splitting his face, dropping to the dock and rushing their little Bat-group, arms open as if he wanted to embrace Jason, and Jason immediately stepping away with a dumbfounded noise of confusion. Clark immediately stopped, blinking once as his brain reevaluated, and then smiling sheepishly as he understood. “I guess we were never really friendly back then, were we? Sorry. It’s— I don’t know how you’re here, but it’s good to see you.”
“Why the hell do you even believe it’s actually me?” Jason demanded, all bite, Dick’s stomach flipping with excitement to discover Jason was still as much of a devil’s advocate as ever. “I could be be an illusion or something. Maybe even Clayface. Shouldn’t you be worried with how close I am to them?”
“Worried about Bruce?” Clark repeated incredulously. “Hardly. And I don’t think Clayface or any illusion could nail your attitude so perfectly.” His smile warmed. “It’s really good to see you. Thing’s haven’t been the same.” Then, Clark ducked his head in and kissed Bruce’s cheek, which— okay, yes, thank god, they were still together, but Dick was pretty sure Jason was going to have a conniption, the other sucking in such a harsh breath that it was borderline hyperventilation.
“I’ll tell you later,” Dick promised with a low whisper in Jason’s ear, and jesus, fuck, he was whispering into Jason’s ear, he was colluding with Jasonn again. He couldn’t even wrap his head around it, the giddiness building like a drug in his system. His hands were starting to shake, and he quickly found Jason’s, entwining their fingers to try and stop the trembling. Jason looked from the likely startling realization that Bruce had actually managed to get over himself to instead level Dick with a gaze of concern. Dick just shook his head. They had work to do.
“Clark,” Bruce rumbled, the slits of his cowl narrowing as he glared at Clark for having the gall to kiss him in public, and on an op. “Remove Ra’s Al Ghul from my sight before Dick and I do something we will not regret.”
“I’ll get him out of here,” Clark promised with another one of his enigmatic smiles tossed Dick’s way. “What about you three? Is it done?”
“Not even close,” Jason stated, darting forward to quickly pat Ra’s down, Dick ignoring the way the sight pierced him to his core, instead watching Jason snag the amulet from Ra’s’s waist and secure it to his belt. “Got plenty of shit left to do.” He didn’t sound ready for it.
As Superman moved around them, hoisted Ra’s Al Ghul into his arms without any care for gentleness, and then doing the same with Ubu, Dick felt something inside him sink at Jason’s words. It was to be expected. “There’s five other Jasons in the room behind his,” Dick added with a grimace. “And I’m guessing that just because we kicked Ra’s’s ass, it doesn’t mean the Untitled are done.”
“I need to close the gate by to the Chamber of All by destroying the obelisk that’s currently hidden, and putting down one of the Nine,” Jason explained, using a lot of words that Dick did not understand the context of, at all. “Plus, those other five of me need to go back where they belong. The Nine were trying to eradicate any and all Jasons they could get their hands on to keep the Chosen One from figuring his shit out and stopping them. They didn’t know which Jason it would be, so just grab every Jason you can, right?” He ruefully shook his head, like he expected them to understand anything of what he was saying. “The way we came in should still be open. They can get to the church just fine.”
Dick was getting a headache. “Little Wing, what?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Jason shot back too quickly, not even giving Ra’s another glance as Superman took off with his captives. “Hey, Jason!” he suddenly shouted towards the way he and Dick had come, back into the ceremonial room where all sounds of battle had ceased. “Get your ass over here! What’s going on?”
Bruce frowned at the encroaching complication as Dick sputtered. “What— which one is Jason, and why isn’t it you?”
“Because when I got dropped into the Chamber of All, he was in there first, and he already knew he was Jason, whereas I was pretty sure Ra’s was still fucking with me and introduced myself as Hadi,” Jason explained too quickly. “I feel sorry for this Jason, so he gets to be the Jason.”
“Fuck you.”
The statement was familiar coming from any Jason at all, but Dick felt a sort of foreign wariness when that tall Jason stepped into the room, the one who hadn’t smiled or cracked a joke or shown any emotion in the heat of battle. His movements were slow, methodical, and commanding. It reminded Dick a lot of Slade Wilson, or Lawrence Crock. This Jason, wherever he had come from, was a soldier in every step he took, and nothing else. And his expression— devoid of teasing mirth, or anger, or even spite. He was just— he seemed empty. And seeing that expression of emptiness on any Jason, ever, tugged at Dick’s heart with painful insistence.
“We took care of your problem,” the empty Jason said, even his words tight and controlled, like he had a latch on every part of himself that he refused to undo. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m gonna handle the Nine that we know of,” Dick’s Jason replied with the surety of a well-informed commander. Dick didn’t know when Red had gotten it all back and become Jason Todd again, but he was glad it had happened regardless. “Take the others back in and get them to their homes. I figured it out— the stained glass windows in the church, the ones with our faces? That’s how you get back to your realities. Shatter the glass, throw yourself through, and you’re home free.”
“Just like that.”
Dick didn’t like the way the tall one said that. His Jason apparently didn’t like it either, because his Jason’s eyes immediately narrowed, scrutinizing his much older, much harder self. “You’re going through that fucking glass, do you hear me? Or I’ll drag you through it myself.”
Unfamiliar blue eyes just stared into Jason, before they flitted to Dick, and— Dick’s breath caught at the sudden realization that the way the older Jason was looking at Dick was the same expression Dick had seen in the mirror every day since he’d lost Jay. Oh no. Wherever this Jason came from, he’d lost someone vital, hadn’t he? Dick prayed it hadn’t been himself in whichever reality it was. If this Jason had been cursed with the same grief Dick had suffered for so long because this other Dick had fucked it all up— god, it was so confusing, and all the same names and everything going on, Jason being alive. Dick needed to lie down. And he needed this taller, older, emptier Jason to stop looking at Dick like Dick could disappear any second now.
“Hey assholes, we’ve got a timer!”
Another Jason came bursting through, this one Dick recognized as Shafi, which thank god he went by another name. At Shafi’s feet was the tiny Jason, or Jay. And they both stopped dead at the sight of Batman’s towering frame, casting that long shadow that pierced fear in the hearts of criminals. “Shit,” Shafi grit out, taking a wary step back, actually putting his hand in front of the little one like he thought he had to protect him. That didn’t make sense. Batman should be seen as their protector and mentor, not a threat. “You were saying this one doesn’t hate you?” Shafi checked to Dick’s dismay.
“Just cause you’ve got daddy issues doesn’t mean I do,” Dick’s Jason shot back. What did that even mean? Why did this Jason seemed almost afraid of Batman? Beside Dick, Bruce’s frown deepened. He didn’t seem to like the initial fearful reaction from what should be his adopted son across all of these wonky realities. “Get everyone through the portal to the church and break your windows. Make sure the runt goes first.”
“Not a runt,” Little Jason grumbled, biting his lower lip, and only then did Dick realize the little boy’s eyes weren’t on Batman. He watched curiously as the little one tugged on Shafi’s jacket, which prompted Shafi to bend down gracefully and without hesitation, like he was used to leaning down for someone much younger than himself, and listened to what was hissed in his ear.
Shafi immediately straighted out with a burst of laughter. “Dick, this little shit just asked me if you’re pretty in every reality!” He almost cackled, before looking down at little Jason and deadpanning, “Yes. He is always ridiculously fucking pretty, and we hate it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, several other mes. It’s been fun and all, but one of me is already too fucking much, and I’ve got a wedding to attend.” He dragged little Jason back by the shoulder with the familiarity of an parent. “Same Bat-time, same Bat-place, yeah, Hadi? Hope I never see you again.”
“Likewise,” Dick’s Jason huffed. Then he pointed at the tall one. “Go through your fucking window. I’m not going to ask twice.”
The tall Jason regarded Dick one last time, before he let his stony blue eyes flit over to Bruce. The absolute hatred that immediately burned was startling, but then he was turning away and was gone before Dick could ask what the hell had happened.
“Don’t worry about him,” his Jason mumbled, glancing back at his father. “He’s been through hell.”
“So have you,” Bruce rumbled.
Jason didn’t say anything, eyes on where his other selves had disappeared. Then he turned away with a huff, declaring, “We don’t have time to waste. There’s an open Obelisk right now that we need to shut and destroy, along with putting down one of the Nine for good. We need to get moving.” He brought up his left arm, tapping on the Boom tube. “I can get us there in a couple seconds, just—”
“Can you please speak English?” Dick almost begged, so utterly lost at this point. “Where are all the other yous going? How are they even here? Alternate realities were just theories, and you mentioned something about them trying to take out every you there is? God, Jay, I-I’m so happy you’re here, just tell me what’s—”
“None of that fucking matters,” Jason interrupted sharply, almost too sharply, a hardness in his eyes that forced him to remember that strange, reflective yellow he’d seen right as Jason had taken out Ubu. It immediately occurred to Dick that Jason had absolutely been through hell, and more, and Dick didn’t know a single damn thing about any of it. He didn’t know what had changed, what would never be the same again, what would be the new Jason. He just knew Jay was alive and he could only be grateful. But to act like nothing had changed would be a mistake. He needed to remember that.
Dick took a step back, away from Jason, the last thing he wanted to do, but the only thing he could think of that might help. He nodded instead of talking, throat closing up. After everything that had happened to the other, it was cruel to assume things could just go back to how they were. He was such an idiot. A stupid, selfish idiot that only care about getting what he wanted now that Jason was alive, as if Jason was just some thing to fulfill Dick’s needs and dreams. God, Dick wasn’t any better than Ra’s, was he? Just another person that wanted to use Jay, for one reason or another. Absolutely monstrous—
Jason was suddenly in front of Dick again, bending low to get in his face, which meant that Jason was actually taller than him now, but Dick couldn’t even think about how unfair that was when his breath was freezing in his lungs as those endless blue eyes tore through him. “The hell are you thinking right now?” Jason demanded, low and serious, an urgency in the way his gaze darted back and forth across Dick’s expression, as if trying to read his mind like a Martian. “You fucker. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Dick felt his lower lip wobble like a child, and instead tried to lift his chin, save some face. “You’re right. We don’t have time to waste on my pointless questions. The Untitled obviously intended to stage some kind of assault grander than we’ve seen—”
He shut up as Jason crushed their lips together again, feeling torn in half by how little sense all of this made. Was Jason mad at him or not?
“Not pointless,” Jason growled against Dick’s teeth. “I will tell you later.” Then he was pulling away and facing Bruce, arm up again. “I’m taking us three to where the first Obelisk is currently hidden using an illusion. I know this shit is psycho, but we have to drive the Untitled back through the gate that they tore open from the Chamber of All, lead by one of their eight leaders.” Dick had thought there were nine, Jason had said the nine, god, he wished any of this made sense. “I don’t trust anyone but you and Dick to help me do this. I have the means, and I have the knowledge. But I need your help. Will you help me?”
“It’s not like you to ask in the first place,” Bruce rumbled, which wasn’t a confirmation, but it made Jason finally smile nonetheless. “What’s the location? I’ll have the League on standby—”
“Not on standby, no, they need to be at least five miles away,” Jason insisted. “If I fuck this up and we fail, the League needs to be far enough away not to get immediately overcome by the fallout. They need to be far enough away to see if it goes to shit so they can turn their asses and run. Regroup and live to fight another day. But there’s no backup.” Bruce pursed his lips, intending to argue, but Jason bluntly stated, “Havoc Protocol, Batman,” and that was enough.
“I’m with you, Jason,” Bruce said, just a little softer now that he understood. Then Jason’s blue eyes pierced Dick with Bruce’s own white slits, and he realized they thought he could possibly say no.
“When have I ever been able to deny you, Little Wing?”
It came out defeated, almost hopeless, and not at all how it would have five years ago. Jason’s brow pinched with alarm, but there was a war in his mind, visible beneath his irises. After all, Jason had meant it. They were dealing with life or death right now. Dick was a professional himself. He needed to get his head in the game, or fall back before he got someone killed. Before he got Jason killed.
“I’m with you too.”
Jason chewed his lower lip, betraying just a split second of hesitation despite his own insistence that they didn’t have time. Dick was reminded of a conversation they’d had half a lifetime ago, about how much it would hurt to push away the normal things for the sake of vigilantism. How plans were important and saved lives, but the plans they made as civilians had to be less in comparison to a crisis. Jason had implied the things he could have wanted as just a kid hadn’t mattered. Dick still believed that anything Jason ever missed out on was a tragedy.
“We can do this,” Dick promised Jason, flexing his hands, settling into his suit that he suddenly felt like he hadn’t worn right in a lifetime. Between them, Batman stood tall, his expression unreadable, looking between his sons. “One shot, right Jay? Beam us up.”
Jason grinned, sharp and frazzled, before smacking the button on the Boom Tube, the ground opening up beneath them and sending the three dropping down— into Ducra’s grimy, dark little shack. Dick landed smoothly, hunched forward a little because he’d expected to be dropped into the middle of a bloodbath, not the dreary little hovel with the old man already cackling at their arrival, rocking back and forth in her chair, her damn staff tapping the ground three times.
“Is it you this time?” she asked Jason, showing all of her yellow teeth. “I had to put up with the fool who believes he has no tongue. An annoyance.”
“Nice to know you care,” Jason shot back, having landed smoothly just beside Dick, that short drop of about ten feet next to nothing for the heights they’d once leapt together. The rustle of Bruce’s cape behind them let Dick know they’d all made it as the Boom Tube over their heads closed shut without a sound. Ducra didn’t seem all that impressed by the Batman himself. “I got your message. You were right. Ra’s Al Ghul had the amulet the whole fucking time.”
“And?”
Jason held up the amulet he’d snagged off Ra’s’s. It was on a thin, golden chain, worn withj age and use. The amulet itself was a golden disk, with the outline of an eye and its iris laden in copper wire across the center. Dick frowned as the thing was still noticeably glowing an offputting yellow, just like everything to do with the Untitled.
“Then you have your compass,” Ducra hummed, rocking herself forward and standing with the momentum. Dick almost thought he could hear her bones creaking over the settling of the floor as she rested heavily on her staff. “The dagger answers to her master, and you have mastered the blades across countless lifetimes. There is nothing more I can do for you, child. The Terror will know true fear when they see you.”
She lifted her staff, Dick stepping forward to intercept in case she tried to hit anyone, but Jason threw a hand out first. “Before you do that— why didn’t you tell him?” Ducra’s entire brow lifted in question, so Jason huffed. “Dick. Or any of them. Why didn’t you tell them that I was me?”
“Hah!” she barked, lowering the staff gently, shaking her head so her gray braids wagged across her chest. “As if he’d believe me. As if any of them would. All these clones, all these bastards braying for blood. Why listen to the old woman delivering a fairy tale? And what good could it have even done?”
“He could’ve helped me—”
“You wouldn’t have believed me either, child. You had to remember your death.”
Dick sucked in a breath as Bruce lifted his head a little straighter. Ducra leveled them both with a disappointed glare. “You act as if the very key to your world’s savior is some evil pariah. If the child hadn’t died, we wouldn’t have our chosen. Be grateful for his death. His was much kinder than others.”
Jason cut his chin. “You know about them.”
“About all the other Jason Todds that torment me across far too many lifetimes?” Ducra chuckled again. “Yes, child. I know them. I’m sure you’d agree with me that the way you perished was far more merciful than theirs.”
“If they even were lucky enough to die,” Jason murmured, a shadow across his face, and that— Dick didn’t want to know. He thought of that tiny Jason, the one who couldn’t be older than ten, wearing knee and elbow pads, so breakable that he should be wearing a “handle with care” sticker. Dick did not want to know. “Still. You could’ve told Dick.”
“Every time I tried to nudge you, you gnashed at the bit and kicked your hooves at me,” the wise woman complained. “I long ago discovered you’re better off learning these lessons yourself. Besides. When you get as old as me? A little drama is never unwelcomed. You don’t see a television in here, do you?”
Jason rolled his eyes, giving Dick a look of pure exasperation. It was so unexpected for Jason to be playful that Dick froze up and forgot what to do.
“Now, if you are done with your interrogation of me and my pure intentions,” Ducra went on, lifting the staff again. “Then you can help me with the infestation in my basement.” She then slammed the staff on the floor just once, and the wood suddenly pooled, swirling, pealing itself inwards and plummeting into a swirling mass of color, light and sound. Dick gasped, two sets of hands grabbing him and pulling him away as almost the entire floor was consumed by the whirlpool pitfall.
He stared down into the swirling abyss, staircases and crumbling platforms and an impossible number of doors all surrounded by endless sets of eyes that stared back. He could see figures climbing through the chaotic mess, humanoid bodies, but with twisting limbs and heads, too many Untitled to count all revealed beneath them. The doors themselves seemed to lead to habitats boasting a variation of weather, some of the doors encased in ice, some surrounded by greenery that didn’t look like it should grow in a place like this, some with golden sand spilling from beneath. Directly beneath them, on a stone platform that seemed to float without explanation, was a gray obelisk, made of polished rock, jutting upwards towards them. Hammered violently into the four sides of the obelisk was the outline of a golden eye that all watched Dick’s horrified awe with detached indifference.
“What is this,” Bruce rumbled.
“The Chamber of All,” Ducra announced over the rushing noise beneath them. Dick didn’t know what the noise was, or where it was really coming from, he just knew that it was noise and it never seemed to stop. “Once the means of transportation across all time and reality dominated by the Terror— until now.” She gestured towards Jason. “With your dagger claimed and awake, you can now traverse their realm at will, and thwart their means of transportation.”
“Break the doorknobs,” Jason said, full of determination as he stared down into that chaotic disaster. “One of the nine is down there, Ducra. You know what I have to do.”
“I long ago lost all love for my siblings,” she replied to Dick’s surprise. “Do what you must. The fate of the world is in your hands, child. Do not forget again.”
Jason opened his mouth to say something snide, but a sudden cacophony of gunshots from below shut him up. His eyes went wide and he peered down into the mess, barring his teeth in a scowl. “That fucker,” he grit out. “He said he’d go through!” Jason whirled on Dick and Bruce. “Just follow my lead.” And then he was just— just throwing himself into the chaos, trusting the fall, fearless as he landed atop the obelisk and that same warscythe materialized in his hand in a burst of red.
Dick traded a look with Bruce. They both nodded, knowing damn well neither of them were going to let Jason leave their sides again. Throwing himself recklessly into the unknown, Dick following Jason, as he always would.
That noise only grew louder as he was surrounded by the impossible geometry of this hellscape. His feet hit the platform, but something about the stone itself didn’t feel real, like it could slip out from beneath him in a blink. A shadow fell over him, Dick cartwheeling away on instinct as an Untitled landed where he’d just been, only for Bruce to slam his fist through the thing’s face. “So this is what they look like,” his father said with grim acceptance.
“Ugly as sin doesn’t come close,” Jason agreed, flipping gracefully from atop the obelisk, the warscythe spinning in his grip like he was testing the weight, reminding himself how he had once decimated his enemies with something as simple as a bo. “C’mon— stay in my footsteps, and don’t stop moving.” Jason was running for the ledge and leaping again, careening through the chaos and landing atop the underside of a staircase that should really be the other way around, and not twisting like a slinky down into nothing.
The expert ease Jason used to navigate this confusing reality was nothing short of impressive, but so was Bruce’s effortless ability to stay right behind his son, and Dick’s own dogged inability to not be left behind. As they moved further down towards the gunshots, not only could Dick spot more and more of the Untitled emerging from behind these insane structures, but he could also see that amulet Jason had said would follow a “Nine” glowing brighter and brighter from where it was swinging from his belt. And even deeper, twisting into the endlessness below, Dick heard the gunshots again.
He looked down, expecting to see nonsense, but instead saw Jason, the other Jason, the tall one who looked like all life had been sucked from his body. And despite knowing he’d been given explicit instructions, Dick immediately abandoned his following of the other two, retracting his line when he was mid-swing, and instead plummeting below and landing heels-first on top of the Untitled that had been seconds away from slashing jagged claws across tall-Jason’s spine.
“Jason told you to go through a window!” he cried out as tall-Jason whirled around, the sudden slam of something like fear across his face completely unexpected. Guy like this was fighting monsters for the hell of it, but he was scared of a Flying Grayson? That wasn’t adding up. “I can’t call you Jason, I just got mine back.” Dick then backflipped, hyperaware of any and all movement around him, driving the toe of his boot into the fleshy skull of another one of these things. It hit the ground hard, not dead, but still took the hit, and that was relieving. “What can I call you?”
The tall-Jason grabbed Dick by the shoulder, suddenly yanking him back and behind his large frame, firing three brutal shots into head of the Untitled, black blood splattering. “You don’t call me a god damn thing, asshole.”
Dick huffed as he was so rudely thrown around by someone who was admittedly stronger than him. He’d never thought Jason would be stronger than him in any reality. It was relieving to know he’d consistently and finally overcome his malnutrition. “Dickhead is my nickname, but it honestly fits you a lot more than me right now!”
“Tell me about it.”
God, Dick didn’t even really know this Jason, but he could instantly recognize how not okay that response was.
Then a red gilet was hitting the ground in front of this Jason, and there were, once again, too many Jasons. But right behind them dropped Batman, all darkness and intimidation, and Dick’s throat went tight when the taller Jason actually flinched away from Bruce, tensing up, genuinely anticipating combat from the man that should’ve been seen as a protector.
“Where’s the Nine?” his Jason demanded. “You’re not gonna do as I say, then at least be useful. Where is he?”
“She,” Tall-Jason replied, hunching still, watching Bruce, waiting for an attack. “It’s the younger sister, the one Ducra hated the least.”
“Shit,” his Jason spat. “Where?”
The gun was up again, firing a round just behind them, Dick watching an Untitled go limp and drop out of a midair leap, its limp body smashing against staircases as he fell into the depths. And as Dick watched the body drop, it drew his attention to one of the many platforms surrounding them, where a lone figure stood, this one obviously a monster as well, but different. Instead of countless tendrils flicking and twisting across the skull, there wa a single, barbed and thrashing tentacle protruding from the back of a fleshy head, a twisted mouth grinning wide with way too many teeth, burning yellow eyes trained on their small group. The thing was dressed in robes reminiscent of what Ducra had been wearing, and instead of sprinting wildly for the closest warm body to render in two, it simply stood there, waiting.
“She’s waiting for us,” tall-Jason said.
“Cathca,” his Jason grit out. “I was hoping I could sneak up on her.”
“On her turf? I taught you better than that.” Tall-Jason then strode calmly past Bruce, making sure their shoulders bumped. “If it’s really that confusing for you, call me Todd. But do not call me Jay. Got it?”
Dick and Bruce both nodded.
“I fucking hate that name,” Jason complained with not nearly enough chalance for the hellscape surrounding them.
“You and me both,” Todd huffed. “The plan?”
“Kill her,” Jason replied.
“Seriously? Nothing else?”
“Her turf, right?”
Todd nodded, glanced to Bruce and Dick, and then said, “I don’t want Nightwing here.”
“I know,” Jason said as Dick shot forward to try and argue, only for Jason’s hand to be up and against his chest, stopping him. “But I just came back from the dead. I doubt he’ll let me take a piss alone now.”
“He’s lucky.”
Jason’s head whipped from their adversary to Todd instead. Dick didn’t like the look on his face. “You’re surviving this,” the love of his life insisted to another version of himself. “Do you hear me? I’m not letting you go down there and end it all in some blaze of glory. There’s options.”
“Like I give a shit,” Todd rasped. “He’s already dead and gone.” Then he was glancing back, giving Dick that strange, empty gaze, and that— wait, shit, shit, did that mean Dick was dead? Somewhere out there, Dick Grayson had kicked the bucket, and this Jason— he was chasing death the same? Hoping to be taken by it too, again. God, this— this was all just so fucked up.
“I’ll hold my own,” he promised. “Way I see it, there’s too many of these things for you to do the job right.” He pointed his thumb between himself and Bruce. “We’ve got this. Take care of that thing so we can go home. All of us.”
Todd didn’t look away from Dick when he said, “My way home is rotting in a grave.” He finally turned away again, pitching forward, letting himself fall, and Jason doing the same, no more words left to say. Bruce and Dick both grit out their own curse before following the two, and leaping into that expanse again, the strange world itself shifting to meet them.
Hitting a staircase that lead three different ways to the sister Jason needed to kill, the chaos met them, screaming in rage. Dick felt panic burst in his chest, but he kept a cool head, whipping out his eskrima and letting them blaze to life, smashing it through the fleshy twist of limbs reaching for him. Knowing he couldn’t kill them or even knock them out made his panic all the more obtrusive, forcing Dick to dig deep into his training and push that all away so he could focus on at least just knocking the fuckers from the stairs. They couldn’t fly, after all. He just needed to shove them out of the way, and whatever was filling in for gravity in this bizarre space would do the work. But even as he used his strength, knocking and kicking and outright shoving these things out of the way and into the abyss below, he could look up and see more of them sprinting upside down and sideways, somehow upright on staircases that didn’t make sense.
He could see the spots of black just ahead, and forced his way through the onslaught. He flipped over the writhing heads of the Untitled that were doing everything in their power to slow their pace, sweeping a leg beneath one and sending it crashing down into others, knocking them off the stairs like bowling pins. A shout from ahead was Dick’s only warning, and he surged upwards again, knocking both sparking ends of his eskrima against the jaw and temple of an Untitled, stunning it just enough to let Bruce smash his fist literally through it’s face from behind--- only for the Untitled to babble some unknown language with cackling laughter despite the limb skewering it through where its brains should be.
Dick’s gag reflex protested the sight. He grabbed the thing by the shoulders, tore it off Bruce’s wrist, and slammed his elbow into the neck, sending it plummeting below. “I hate these things,” he wheezed to his father. “How the hell did Jay not lose his stomach at the sight of them?”
“Saw a lot worse in the streets, Dickiebird!” Jason crowed from up ahead, his voice sending sparks through Dick’s body. God, he’d missed the way Jason would just casually remind Dick of how terrible his life had been and then act like it meant nothing. “These fuckers ain’t shit!” Dick watched as Jason tore the warscythe through the stomach of these creatures, spinning with his momentum, gutting the thing across the stairs. The outright joy Dick felt when it actually dropped dead should send him to a therapist. “Jump!”
Dick didn’t even think twice, throwing himself from this staircase, knowing Jason wouldn’t send him flying if there wasn’t already somewhere to land. As he fell through the dizzying landscape, he saw a line smack into a nearby platform, one that was lush with green, vines and flowers bursting at the seams, surrounding a door. An arm suddenly wrapped itself around his waist, and he was wicked through the air by Jason, the younger man gritting something out before they were on the platform, rolling together, skidding to a halt in perfect unison with their bodies low and ready. The Untitled had pursued them, Jason going low and Dick going high, smashing one into the ground and into range of Jason’s All-Blade, immediately run through and yanked off the ledge, thrown aside.
It was incredible— Jason wielded his weapon as effortlessly and instinctively as he’d once done with the bo. The blade itself was vertical with the staff, letting Jason swing it with full control of the rhythm and arch, deadly grace keeping Jason’s steps light as he utilized the entire length of the staff, the blunt end knocking harder than a fist, and the blade itself rending limb from limb. It almost felt like dancing, Jason waiting for Dick to line up his next shot, letting Dick knock some Untitled aside just to let him send the monsters towards Jason as well, feeding them to the own fatality they’d ever known.
“Jason!”
The yell coming from Bruce had Jason darting forward and out of the way as an Untitled hit the space he’d just been, Jason slamming down the All-Blade and severing the thing’s head. “I’ve got to get to the sister,” Jason gasped, eyes up where he needed to be. “If I can kill her, then the doors she’s created will stop working.”
Dick nodded and threw his line out, the metal clamping into the underside of a staircase, Dick wrapping his arm around Jason and ignoring his protest as they were pulled up. As they reached the height of the sister’s platform, Dick released Jason, trusting him to leap the distance, undeniable relief filling him when his Little Wing proved him right. He held his breath as he watched Jason bring his All-Blade down on the sister, only to be blocked by more of these creatures coming to their master’s rescue.
Too caught up in Jason’s struggle, he didn’t even pay attention to his line, not noticing as the thrum of the motor shook too much. His lack of focus on his own wellbeing, so caught up in watching Jason, made him completely unaware of his line slipping free of its purchase in the stairs until he was suddenly dropping with a gasp, stomach leaping into his throat with freefall. And that was fine, he’d fallen plenty, but when he withdrew his line, tried to shoot it again, and was met with a hollow click like when a hook misfired? Not good.
Before he could even panic, a heavy weight slammed into him, that tortured, aged Jason snatching him out of the air and swinging him towards the nearest level area he could reach, another platform, this one looking like an alleyway that had been cut clean out of reality itself, crumbling brick walls surrounding an iron door Dick didn’t dare to open. He rolled with the landing and came up with a breathless smile, meaning to thank Todd for the save— only for a fist to snatch him by the front of the uniform, slamming him into the shabby wall. “Woah, wait, Todd, what the—”
“You don’t fuck up like that,” Todd almost snarled in his face, his blue eyes swimming a toxic green, like the Lazarus Pit, glaring fury into Dick. “Do you have any idea what it would do to him to lose you?! I know you’re all fucked up to see him alive again, but you don’t get to make mistakes like that! If you’re dead, we’re dead!”
Dick’s entire brain shut off. Part of him felt a thrill at Jason’s strength, whether it was his Jason or not, being powerful enough to lit him and pin him like this. But another part, a much louder part, saw the suffering in those eyes, anger intermixing with a grief he knew intimately well, and demanded action.
He was sure Todd expected Dick to fight. To grind his teeth and shout back. Get angry, get pissed, demand respect in a way that Todd was doing now. Up close, he could see how battle-hardened this Jason was, worn down by time and fights and loss. Dick didn’t actually know what this Jason had been through to be so afraid of Bruce and to be so terrified for Dick. But he had a damn good theory.
“I’m sorry,” he said instead of fighting like Todd needed. Terrible creatures of hell itself were shrieking behind them, and Dick could only think the only reason they weren’t be descended upon was thanks to the walls that surrounded them, hiding them mostly from sight. “Whatever I did— however I failed. Whatever happened that took me from you in your world, I’m sorry. I should’ve been good enough. I wasn’t.” He lifted his hands, laying them both across Todd’s biceps, squeezing gently, feeling the strength there that hadn’t known rest in what probably felt like years. He watched as that green bled away again, returning blue. “I’m supposed to be better than that, I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
“Shut up,” Todd choked out, grip on Dick’s uniform wavering as Dick marveled over knowing he could calm any storm within Jason across any reality. “It wasn’t even your fault. You didn’t know— you were killed by someone you trusted. You didn’t know.” Then he was tearing himself away, face white like a ghost. There was a split second, a pause for a breath, like Todd was trying to remember where he was, what he was doing, who was in front of him. Like he thought he was seeing his Dick Grayson instead of another one. Like he was seeing a Dick Grayson that was long dead.
“I’m sorry,” Dick repeated, because he needed to say what he knew that other Dick Grayson wished he could say. “I never wanted to leave you. You know that.”
Todd’s expression twisted like he was going to cry. Then he quickly slammed that emotion down with far too much ease. “I do know that,” he said. “C’mon. That bitch is still walking. We’re not done yet.”
Dick snagged Todd’s wrist. “Wait,” he said. “Just— Your Dick Grayson. Did he at least love you back?”
Todd’s expression flinched, genuine pain breaking through that wall, so sudden it was almost like he’d been shot. “I married him.”
Dick almost wished he hadn’t asked.
“Let’s go.”
Todd threw his own line up, and Dick couldn’t do anything but fallen, so shaken by what he’d been told that his hands felt clammy in his gloves. Thrown back up, Dick felt his heart freeze in his chest at the sight of Bruce and Jason, back to back, surrounded at all sides, with that strange “sister” almost floating above them, screeching with inhuman laughter. Todd’s boiling red bullets tore through the air, ripping one of the legs of the sister to shreds. Dick hit the platform and sent electricity coursing through the nearest freak of nature, giving Bruce just enough breathing space to throw his winged explosives in a sweep, sending most of the horde flying back.
“Ducra has done well to give you the blade,” the strange creature that was this “sister” snarled, her words scraping like a razor blade scratching metal. “Ra’s Al Ghul continuously failed us, and for that, he shall suffer.” Her fleshy pointed feed touched the platform, though Dick could see where the bullet had torn through hadn’t reformed, a hole bleeding black poison remaining. “Come, Chosen One. Show me it wasn’t a waste to let you pass me on the street rather than cut you down where you stood.”
Dick was occupied with the countless Untitled throwing themselves into the slaughter, but even with his attention demanded by the monsters, he absolutely didn’t miss when more of those glowing red blades burst into existence surrounding Jason, spinning slowly in the air just behind Jason, at his back. He held his warscythe aloft, twirling it lazily as he’d once done when bored with his bo. “Can you believe this? Spent a lifetime tormented by you fuckers, and I never once came up with something witty to say when I finally slit your throats.” The sister tried to move, only for one of the blades behind Jason to shoot through the air faster than a bullet, stabbing into the stone door behind the sister’s head. “Don’t run, Cathca. I’m always going to be faster.”
The sister hunched— then shot forward, claws out, lunging for Jason’s throat with an unhinged jaw. Jason ducked out of the way, rolling with his own dodge, three more of the swords shooting after her. The swords themselves were all different, coming from almost every cultural across the world, like it was a culmination of the All-Caste itself, hundreds of people from hundreds of different lives coming together to bring down this evil. As Jason stayed out of reach, waiting to strike, Cathca was reckless in her attacks, clumsy and sweeping swipes, throwing her entire body across the platform like a wild animal. Jason was right— he was faster. Even as Cathca used her whole body to try and tear him to pieces, Jason couldn’t be caught.
Dick, Bruce, and Todd all worked to just keep the other monsters preoccupied. It was breathtaking to see how effortlessly Jason kept himself away from the monster. LIke all the years of Jason surviving on the streets and then honing his abilities with Bruce had existed just to prepare him for this most dangerous game of keep-away. Dick was struck with how often he’d watched Jason fight, whether it was a scrimmage or in genuine combat. It had never been a matter of ability in taking Jason down. It had always been a matter of even getting his hands on him. And when it came to Jason— well, all he had to do was wait for the other person to slip up. And slip up, Cathca did.
It happened so quickly Dick almost missed it between cracking fleshy heads together and staying out of range of tendrils. One second, Jason had himself just beneath the one in a million lunges Cathca had made for Jaosn’s jugular— and the next, Cathca’s head was rolling on the ground, the swipe of the All-Blade so clean that the body of the sister continued to stagger forward, stumbling a little as the nervous system tried to brute force on with the absence of the brain— only to topple forward and out of sight, careening into the chaos below. The head didn’t even roll, the thrashing tendril at the back stopping it from going far. It rolled beneath the stomping feet of the Untitled, but even they were flagging, some stopping their assault in seeing the severed head of one of their leaders.
A shriek rumbled through the forces assaulting them, Dick gritting his teeth and aborting a hook kick just to fold his hands over his ears and try to block it out. As the shriek emanating outwards like a ripple in water, the door one the platform they were occupying suddenly shuddered, then crack, splitting diagonally from end to end, before it crumbled and fell apart. Spreading out, door after door of so many different makes and biomes suffered the same fate, torn asunder by the death of Cathca, piling into rubble, the gateways cut off from the world beyond.
“Holy shit,” Todd breathed as he slowly righted himself, the Untitled they’d bene fighting shrinking back, and then outright fleeing, scuttling for staircases that would take them far away. “You did it.” Todd spun around to Jason, a disbelieving grin across his face. “You seeing this? You actually did it—”
A thundering crash interrupted him, and the platform they were standing on suddenly wobbled and began to tilt. Bruce slammed a Batarang into the stone and grabbed Jason before he could slip, Dick doing the same with one of his own Wings and reaching for Todd, snagging the older man by the shoulder and holding tight. Both of the Jasons seemed slightly dazed, as if they couldn’t believe one of the siblings had actually been killed. This wasn’t the time for shock and awe.
“We have to get out of here!” Dick shouted as he looked around, seeing all the other countless platforms suffering the same. “It’s like this whole place is going to collapse!”
“There!”
Bruce was looking above, so Dick looked up as well, seeing a faraway hole in the fabric of this pseudo reality that definitely looked a lot like Ducra’s shitty hovel beyond it. Dick nodded, ready to get himself and Todd moving again, only for Jason to call out a sharp, “Wait!” before Jason was twisting in Bruce’s grip to pull out that same yellow dagger he’d used to wreak havoc back on Infinity island. Dick watched i fascinated as Jason plunged into into the stun, and then tore it downwards like he was gutting an animal, a portal opened up by the blade, a familiar skyline shown within.
“Todd, go!” Jason shouted, waving a hand for Dick’s dangling rescue.
“I told you, I don’t have a reason to be there without him!” Todd shouted back over the world around them collapsing. “I’m in here until it kills me! There’s nothing else! That world has been destroyed anyways, there’s no—”
“That isn’t your fucking world in there, Todd!” Jason interrupted with a sharp slam of his fist into the platform, the entire surface tilting forward like it intended to throw them off. “There’s a Grayson through there that’s alone! Jason’s not coming back in this one! Either you get in there and find Dick and fix him, or he never gets you back!”
Dick’s chest clenched as Todd ruefully shook his head and said, “You know we’re not that important, kid.”
“I know,” Jason replied, which was horrifying. “But I’m not leaving until you’re home. And we both know home ain’t a place. Never has been.”
There was a moment where the two stared into each other, some kind of conversation passing silently, before Todd was nodding, and then looking up at Dick. “A hand, pretty boy?”
Dick scowled even as he reached for Todd’s hand, hoisting the man up. He felt Todd leave the good grappling hook in his hand and didn’t bother hiding his grateful smile as he lifted him towards his second chance. “Good luck!” Dick called out before Todd was throwing himself through the portal, heading into a new kind of chaos— Gotham city at night. Never got any less confusing than that.
“Let’s go!” Jason shouted, drawing the dagger back up, closing the portal and going limp in Bruce’s grip, the best green light he could give. Bruce nodded and shot his grappling hook far overhead, Dick doing the same with Todd’s grappling hook, feeling too light without any Jason at all in his grip, but knowing that Bruce was the only person Dick trusted as much as himself to look after his Little Wing.
As the Chamber of All fell apart around them, they soared upwards and out, Jason shouting some terrible expletive of relief as they shot past the obelisk that was beginning to crack and shake apart, up and into the darkness of Ducra’s hut. As they nearly hit the ceiling with their haste, the floor itself unswirled and righted itself again, cutting off the cacophony of confusion, leaving them in silence. Bruce’s boots hit the floor first, and his arms were out, catching Jason before he could even touch the ground. “Hey, what gives—” Jason’s protest was swallowed as Bruce let Jason’s legs down, only to cling to the man’s upper half instead, bending forward as he embraced Jason, shielding the other with his entire body.
Dick’s entire being ached for Bruce. It was already such a a momentous thing for Jason to be alive again. For Bruce to have a family member come back to life— with how much Bruce had lost, Dick couldn’t imagine how world altering this was.
“I’m alright, old man,” he heard Jason promised, words muffled by the Batman’s cape, swathed and protected in the darkness of his mentor. “You gonna suffocate me? Dick’s a witness, asshole, and he’d never let you get away with it.”
“If I play along, will you stop joking about dying?” And then Bruce was releasing Jason, a genuine, actual smile on his face, such a strange thing to see with the cowl still on. “Those jokes are going to get old, Jason.”
“And so am I,” Jason shot back cheekily. “Cause I’m, you know, alive. That means you fuckers gotta put up with whatever the hell I do, no complaints.”
“I can’t wait,” Bruce replied with such sincerity that Jason’s cheeks went a little pink and his eyes went a little wide. Bruce clapped Jason’s shoulder before nudging him along. “Go see Dick before he berates me for monopolizing you.”
“He’s mad at me,” Dick said before he could think. “It’s okay.”
Jason and Bruce both turned to stare at him, before Jason tipped his head back with a groan. “I’m not— I’m not mad. Why the hell would I be mad?”
Dick cast a wary glance to his father, who gave him a small nod and slipped out of the shack. Dick almost wanted to ask him to stay, but he was gone before he could. Dick also noticed that Ducra was gone as well.
“I’m not mad,” Jason repeated, getting in close. “But we’ve got a lot to talk about, Dickhead, and there wasn’t time.” He leaned in further, brow knitting together, studying Dick, like he thought there was something new to see. There probably was. Five years difference in Dick’s face that felt more like fifty with the sadness that had consumed him. “Kinda had to fulfill my destiny and all that bullshit. Believe me, I would’ve rather you just drag me to my room so we could catch up.” He paused for a blink. “Wait, do I still have a room?”
Dick’s own brow furrowed. “Of course you do, Jay,” he said softly. “Kept it the way you left it. Couldn’t bear to do anything else.”
Jason’s eyes lit up. “Even my copy of the Fellowship of the Ring? Seriously?”
Dick shook his head, unable to believe that Jason really thought he wouldn’t have his room anymore. “You can’t think we moved on. You can’t believe that.” When Jason faltered, he remembered what Todd had said. That they weren’t that important, and Jason had failed to disagree. “God, Little Wing— is that what this is? You don’t realize— we fell apart without you.”
Jason just looked confused, god, he was confused. “You seem fine to me.”
“I’m not,” Dick choked out. “I wasn’t. Jason, I never figured out how to do any of this without you.” Blindly, he sought Jason’s hand, clumsily entangling their fingers, desperate for skin-on-skin. Jason didn’t fight him, coming even closer, his free hand coming up and cupping the back of Dick’s neck, leaning in so close that their foreheads rested together. An awful, terrible something seized his chest, and Dick worried he would start crying. “Jay,” he narrowly managed not to sob. “The only reason I didn’t let myself be killed on an op after losing you was because I knew you’d never forgive me. Jay, Little Wing, I died with you.”
“Don’t say that.”
The words were a rush from Jason’s lips, instinct more than anything else. The grip on Dick’s nape tightened as they clung to each other.
“You’re Nightwing,” Jason said. “The first Robin. The best there ever was. This world needs you.”
“And I need you.”
He felt Jason shake his head, but was unable to see it as his vision began to blur and his eyes began to sting. “I tried to move on,” he whispered, not enough air in his lungs for more. “I tried so hard, but I couldn’t. Every day, I thought of you. Every step was in your memory. Every time I put on a suit, any suit at all, I told myself it was what you wanted. That was all that kept me going. And even that almost wasn’t enough.”
The admission seemed to help Jason finally realize how bad it had been. There was a sharp intake of breath from the other, and then his hand was pulled away from Dick’s so he could cup both sides of Dick’s face, lifting his chin to press their lips together. “I’m here now,” Jason promised, sore it into Dick’s soul with the kiss. “I’m not going anywhere. I mean it.”
Dick choked on another sob he was desperately trying to swallow down, before he pitched forward, leaning his body into Jason, arms wrapping around the other as he buried his face in Jason’s shoulder. As he clung to Jason, Jason returned the same, one arm wrapping around Dick’s neck, the other around Dick’s waist, keeping him upright and steady. Dick valiantly fought his tears, but as Jason began to sway, just a soothing side to side, he felt his whole body tremble, and he quickly pulled himself away, wiping furiously at his eyes. “We’ve still got a whole god damn team to reintroduce to you,” he rushed in lieu of letting himself break down. “I don’t know how many people are gonna be out there, but you gotta know, Little Wing, the team expanded, and it’s a lot, so don’t be—”
He stopped as lips brushed his cheek, Jason smiling at him with such softness that he almost sobbed for a third time. “You gotta stop torturing me like this, Jay,” he sniffled. “I’m not strong enough.”
“Yeah, you are,” Jason assured him. “You’re stronger than anyone. C’mon, Dickiebird. I gotta make sure all those newbies know you’re mine.”
“I am,” Dick blurted out before Jason could keep up with his smooth-talking. “Yours, Jay. I am yours.” It didn’t matter how his friends had pushed or how he’d tried to coax to life the flames of another love. No one made Dick feel like Jason did.
Jason chuckled, low and slow and holy shit, way too deep. Dick’s stomach flipped, realizing that the Jason in font of him and been through and seen a lot, including a couple extra legs of puberty. The way his voice sounded when he let it pitch like that? Jesus Christ. “Let’s go see who showed up, Dickiebird,” he murmured as he looped an arm around Dick’s neck, walking him to the door of the shack. “The sooner we say hi, the sooner I get you alone. Five years is a long time. You gotta tell me everything.” He pulled open the door, sunlight streaming in—
And was immediately torn from Dick, thrown back into the shack with a shout as M’Gann and Wally tackled him into the floor. “You’re gonna break him!” Artemis cried out as she clambered up the stairs, worry stricken across her face, eyes bright red from crying. “Don’t put him back to dead, Dick’s gonna kill you!”
“No, no, put him back to dead,” Conner insisted as he climbed up behind the blonde, giving Dick a rueful look as he passed. “It’s what he deserves for leaving us hanging for so long, wearing a stupid mask. If you’d just taken it off—”
“You would’ve thought I was a clone, shithead!” Jason cried out from beneath the redheads, desperately trying to push Wally off, while being much gentler with M’Gann because he was still a damn good kid. “Luthor has fucked up way too much for you to have ever believed me!” Then Jason’s eyes lit up as someone new silhouetted the door. “Kaldur, Boss, thank god, you gotta come rescue me.”
As Kaldur failed to move, Dick let himself take in the Atlantean’s reaction. His normally calm exterior was shuddering, a glimmering in those glassy eyes as he watched the old Team dogpile their long lost member, Conner crouched in front and sniggering at Jason’s inability to throw the other two off. “Some kind of Chosen One,” Conner goaded as Kaldur fought tears as stubbornly as Dick had seconds ago. “Only one of them has super strength, Robin. Pretty pathetic.”
“Kaldur!” Jason wheeze as M’Gann wrapped herself around him and squeezed probably just a little too tight. Dick was almost jealous of how she and Wally were crying, not giving a care if anyone saw. Still, the sight of them had Dick smiling, hands on his hips, wondering how he’d survived so long without all of them together again. “Kaldur, please! Oh my god, all her hair’s gone, M’gann, where the fuck is your fucking hair? And Wally, get the fuck off before Artemis gets the wrong idea!”
“Let her,” Wally hiccuped through his own tears. “Dude, I never thought I would be so happy to hear your potty mouth. The word ‘fuck’ has never sounded so amazing.”
“You got so big,” M’Gann blubbered, her tears staining Jason’s gilet. “How did you get so big? He got so big, Dick, he’s so tall!”
Dick nudged Kaldur with his elbow, knowing the other needed a push. “He’s here,” he said softly. “Don’t think about it. You know he doesn’t blame you.”
“Doesn’t he?” Kaldur asked, his words so quiet that Dick couldn’t even call it a whisper. “After what I did—”
“He wouldn’t be calling for you if he blamed you,” Dick firmly denied. “Jay’s never been a faker. You know that.” Kaldur finally met his gaze, and Dick’s heart broke for the man. “You never deserved to bear this weight, Kaldur. If Jay doesn’t say it’s your fault, then that’s it. No sense arguing with him, right? He’s the one who would know.”
“And if he says he does?”
“He won’t, Kaldur. Trust me.”
“Boss, what the fuck!”
Kaldur smiled waterily. “I always did hate when he called me that.” Then he pulled on a brave face and approached, offering a hand to Jason, who gratefully took it and let the superior strength of the Atlantean pull him from the other two.
“Thanks,” Jason said with a far too cocky smirk, smacking Kaldur’s bicep. “How you been, fearless leader? Still pushing kids around, I hope?”
“Adults, actually,” Kaldur said, meeting that smirk with a warm smile of his own. “I am now the Leader of the Justice League.”
Jason’s jaw practically scraped the floor. He looked to Dick like he thought Kaldur would lie to him. Dick shrugged with a grin, masking how everything in his body wrenching to and fro by the emotions that were wracking him. The joy, the pain, the lost time, the future. He didn’t know how to process any of it, but he knew he would it figure with Little Wing.
“Does that mean you’re leading the Team?” Jason asked Dick next, which— yeah, Jay was right, they had a lot to talk about. “Why is Wally stuck in stealth mode? You said there’s a lot of new people, what—”
“You’re so impatient,” Conner complained.
“Can it, hot stuff, I haven’t even gotten to you yet. Did you even age?” Jason jabbed a finger in Conner’s chest. “You literally don’t have a single fucking hair that’s new on you. What gives? I don’t see a ring either, I would’ve put fucking money on you and M’Gann being hitched by now.”
“Oh, no,” M’Gann spoke up. “We broke up a while ago.” Jason reared back, something like horror passing over his face. M’Gann then pointed to Artemis. “But she’s got a ring! She just got it! Wally proposed, like, a day ago!”
“You— what—”
Then Artemis was shoving her hand in Jason’s face, who almost went cross-eyed trying to focus on the ring being shown to him. He barked a sharp, almost pained laugh, grabbing Artemis’s hand for a better look, tossing an unimpressed look Wally’s way. “What an original design.”
“Had to have you there for the proposal some way,” Wally said, and Dick was amazed that the admission didn’t drive a knife into his gut. It no longer mattered that Jay hadn’t been there for the proposal, not really, because Jason was, at least, going to be there for the wedding. God, god, thank god, Jason would be there for the wedding, Jason was going to be there for everything.
There was a noise from outside the shack, Jason going stiff, losing his levity as his hand released Artemis to hover at his side, that strange red glow swirling, his All-Blade seconds from being summoned. Dick stepped forward, but Conner was the one who was closest, smacking Jason’s hand mildly. “It’s not a threat. You’ve been gone a long time.”
Kaldur gave Dick a nod, and Dick pushed open the door to the shack again, the sunlight spilling inside as Conner urged Jason forward, a hand at his back, something serene across the Kryptonian’s face. It hit Dick that Conner had taught Jason how to say fuck. Full circle and all. But just before they passed, Conner slowed, meeting Dick’s gaze, silently making it clear. And Dick absolutely didn’t think twice about sliding into Jason’s other side, pressing his lips to the other’s cheek, smiling so wide it hurt as Jason sputtered in surprise and maybe even embarrassment. And right before they broke out into the open air, Jason finally realized, “Wait, wait, have they been using our names, where the fuck are our masks, Dick—”
Before them, standing on the shore of Hope Island, was everyone. Everyone. Clark and Bruce, of course, but then Diana, Dinah, Oliver, Arthur, Mera, every heavy hitter and all the new ones, even the Team, the additions Jason wouldn’t recognize, Cassie and Jaime and La’Gann—
Yellow and red shot forward and Dick almost tripped back up the steps as Bart appeared and sobbed, “Oh my god, Uncle Jason, you’re finally back!” Jason made a noise of dull surprise as the smaller speedster throw his arms around Jason’s waist, hugging him tight. “You have no idea how bad it’s been, everyone thought you were dead, they all thought you were dead, and I couldn’t say anything! I hate spoilers, this is the worst, the mode was chronic!”
“And I thought two of me was bad enough,” Jason deadpanned, staring down into that red hair at an utter loss while Dick worked that through— and when it dawn on him, he glared so fiercely down at Bart that the kid actually released Jason to cringe away.
“You could’ve said something—”
“It was a spoiler, I didn’t know what I’d do to the timeline! Please believe me, Uncle Dick, it killed me not being able to tell you! When I saw his memorial, I almost threw up at how awful it all was, I really did!”
“I’m gonna kill you,” Dick stated.
“Dude, me too!” Wally was suddenly at Dick’s side, glaring down at Bart to match. “Maybe not him, but a fellow speedster? Not crash.”
Dick was going to join the argument when a shadow flew through the air, something green and furry launching itself down at them from above. Dick grinned, a hand going to Jason’s back with Conner’s, bracing the man for the moment Gar made contact, a shrill screech from a capuchin piercing their ears painfully— but Jason laughed, that fuzzy tail wrapping around his neck, the tiny monkey scrabbling desperately at Jason’s face to nuzzle closer and closer, Jason’s hand coming up to shove his fingertips into Gar’s space, which the monkey eagerly snagged and nibbled on, too overwhelmed to focus on one thing.
“Son,” Bruce called out from the sands, where he was standing with Clark on one side, Oliver at the other, and Barry just zipping in and out of existence because of course he would be too excited for his friend to stay still. “You’re coming back with me to the Watchtower for a full blood panel and medical evaluation.” As Jason audibly groaned, twirling his fingers for Garfield, Bruce glanced to Kaldur for a moment. “If it’s alright with you.”
“You bought it,” Kaldur replied mildly, arms crossed, a faint smile still on his face. “I suppose I can let go of a grudge or two for…” Kaldur frowned, then gently nudged Jason’s elbow. “What should we call you?”
Jason smirked, bright and feral, teeth sharp, eyes glinting, and said, “Red Hood.” Then he yanked up the hood of gilet with a cackle, Gar screeching as he was suddenly wrapped up in the fabric. “Practically every version of me has used that. Why the hell not, right?”
Dick glanced to Bruce, who was still smiling, such a strange sight for all the other heroes surrounding them, and yet no one could blame him. Somehow, someway, Jason had come back from the dead, and no a single person in the League would dare question the happiness emanating from Batman, wave after wave. Bruce deserved a win. They all did.
“Red Hood,” Bruce barked, trying to use his Batman voice, which didn’t work when he couldn’t downturn his mouth into a frown. “To medical— now.”
Dick’s entire fucking soul trembled when Jason signed, ‘Yes, daddy’, and then gave Dick the most shit-eating, mischevious look Dick could remembering seeing, and Dick— Now everyone knew, everyone could see Jason again, he could live like he’d always deserved to, and Bruce was just so happy, and Dick could feel that burning in his eyes again, that treacherous heat, the tightness in his throat, that—
Someone shoved Dick from behind, he didn’t know who, but Jason leaned in to meet him, Jason would always meet him halfway, and their lips pressed together again with Gar just losing it and M’Gann was still crying and there was a flash? Someone took a picture, Dick didn’t know who that was either, but he didn’t give a single shit as Jason kissed him and everything finally felt like it could be okay again.