Chapter Text
It was a cold night in Gotham.
Rain slid down the glass lenses of Jason’s helmet, streaking red reflections across the alley walls. Somewhere above, the sky was the color of gunmetal, dark, heavy and full of dread that enveloped the city.
He’d been tracking the killer for an hour, a sick individual who had slipped through the cracks unnoticed for far too long. A killer who’s hands were stained with the blood of innocent men, women and children.
He caught him eventually, but when he did, he felt nothing. Not anger, nor satisfaction. Just…silence, one that felt louder than any sound ever could be.
He stood there, breathing through the static of his comms, staring at the body that he still gripped by the collar, rain washing away the blood that seeped from the man.
His heart was a black pit long since void. He used to think vengeance would fill that void. That killing the bad ones would make the ache in his soul stop. But it hadn’t. It never quite did.
He tossed the man to the ground with disgust, and left him for the GCPD to discard on their own. Then he wandered. Through the maze of alleys, rooftops, the pouring rain, anywhere but home.
Because home didn’t exist for him anymore.
His father was gone. His mother, both of them, gone. Bruce? Bruce had a family again. A real one. Dick with his charm and the success that outlined him in everything he did. Tim with his brilliance that followed him through every task.
Damian, who was a child prodigy destined for greatness in his own right.
And Jason? Jason was the ghost that didn’t know how to stay dead, nor move on.
He took off his helmet when he reached the edge of an alley from which he emerged. The rain hit his face like tiny needles that stung like alcohol on an open wound. He tried hard not to cry, but alas he failed.
The sobs came quietly at first, then harder. His breath fogged in the autumn air as he hugged himself, trying to feel something close to warmth as he crouched down against the brick wall beside a dumpster.
“I’m still here,” he whispered to no one. “I’m still here. Why can’t anyone see that?” His warm tears cooled rapidly on his face as they blended with the rain like fresh paint on a blank canvas.
And then, a small, frantic sound broke through the rain and Jason’s grief. A squeal, timid and terrified, and not quite human.
Jason blinked away his tears and snapped his head towards the noise. He rose from his position and followed the sound to the side of another alley.
A tiny white rabbit, wet and trembling, cornered by a stray cat. Its snow white fur was stained gray with mud and city crime, and its little chest heaved fast with panic.
Without thinking, Jason reached out and gently scared the cat off. He crouched down, lifting the tiny bunny gently with his gloved hands, and it shivered against the warmth of his palms.
“Hey, easy there…” His voice softened. “You don’t belong out here.”
A voice called out behind him from a distance, soft as winter snowfall.
“Snowball!”
Jason turned, looking over his shoulder.
She was running toward him, sweater damp, hair half soaked from the rain, her eyes wide with relief and fear. She stopped short when she saw him, the armor, the guns, the blades, the red helmet tucked tight under his muscular arm.
He’d seen beautiful women before. Dangerous ones, ones who were bold, fearless, and tough to the core.
But never anyone like her.
There was no edge in her gaze, no wariness nor anger. And most importantly, the absence of fear. There was only warmth and kindness. She was good. The kind of good that didn’t belong in Gotham. The kind of good that didn’t survive long out there.
Jason stood slowly, and stared down at the woman, before he held out the rabbit with both hands, and when she took it.
And when when her warm fingers brushed his gloved ones, something inside him ignited.
She smiled, tears in her lashes. “Thank you…thank you so much!”
Jason stared. He couldn’t speak.
In that moment, the city didn’t feel so cold.