Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s the last week of August and the sun splashes vibrant colors across the water as it sets across the shore. Kids chatter, running back and forth down the boardwalk, throwing rocks into the harbor as their parents lazily trail behind them. Food vendors are out in full force - the smell of fried dough and hot dogs masks the ocean air.

Dick sits on the edge of the picnic blanket, watching the bustle of the dock as Donna naps with her head in his lap. They’re set up in the park, near the edge of the water, far enough away to avoid the crowd, but close enough to be part of the chaos. Once, he spots Roy and Lian at a carnival game. He spots Mal and Karen, waving atop the Ferris Wheel. Another time he sees Wally and Linda with Jai and Irey, all sporting handfuls of cotton candy. And there are some odder combinations he spots as well - Raven and Lilith talking by the edge of the trees away from all the others, and Gar talking Grant’s ear off towards the end of the pier.

The families are sweet together and it’s nice to see friendships blossom where so often connections wither away. The Titans love each other, that’s a given, but time and distance always strain the bonds they have. And more of his friends are moving on, with kids of their own. And other friends are missing entirely. His eyes drift to the water, where Garth and Ceredian splashed in the shallow waves just a year ago. A sigh escapes him at the empty sight.

He kinda wishes he’d asked Damian to come. He would have liked the arcade games. Maybe he could have gotten the kid to try out a few of the carnival rides. It would have been fun. Dick swallows.

Donna blinks at him. He hadn’t realized she woke up. “Are you okay?” She asks wearily. There’s a tiredness behind her eyes that betrays her light tone of voice.

He’s mostly okay. She’s clearly not. “Yeah, are you?” It was six years ago that she brought Bobby along and tied a little red balloon to his wrist. He was so confused by the thing, staring at it with big blue eyes, and cried when it popped. Cotton candy made him laugh. He wasn’t old enough to ride any of the rides. And he never will be.

Donna closes her eyes. He wipes a tear off her cheek. “No. But I will be.” He looks out across the channel to an empty island where a giant ‘T’ used to be. Things have changed. Maybe too quickly. “You can go have fun.” Donna offers, nudging his leg with her shoulder.

“I think I’ll pass.” Someone needs to watch their stuff. It’s been his job for the past five years, he’s not going to give it up now.

“How many years has it been?” Donna asks quietly. She looks past him, up through the sky, onto something more. He wonders if somewhere, the Titans of myth are staring back at her.

She nudges him again. “Six.” He replies.

“You should go have fun.” It’s time to move on, is what she means. But neither of them budge an inch. They’ve been singing this tune for the past four years.

“I like spending time with you.” The point is moot. Donna sighs and stretches, then gets up and starts setting up lawn chairs. “But I am going to run to the bathroom, want me to stop for anything on the way back.”

Donna looks at him with a haunted expression. “Anything but cotton candy.” And chili dogs.

He brushes off his hands as he stands, and heads back through the woods towards the park. The trails are empty, save mounds of litter that’s been caught by the trees. It feels so much more out of place surrounded by greenery than it does on the streets of Gotham. He picks up as much as he can carry, and drops off a load at the trashcan near the entrance to the park. He can’t pick it all up, but hopefully a little bit will help.

There’s a couple kids playing on the swings and their parents standing idly by. The vending machine is nearly empty, ravaged by hungry carnival goers on the way to the docks. Or perhaps no one’s bothered to refill it in a while. He takes a picture of the options, and sends it to Donna, then steps into the bathroom.

He makes it two steps before something cold is pressed against his temple. His heart races, but he forces himself still, raising his hands. “My wallet is in my back right pocket. Don’t do anything we’ll both regret.”

“Oh?” His assailant slams him face first into the marble wall. Unnecessary. Rough. Dick blinks stars out of his eyes and tastes blood in his mouth. The gun doesn’t leave the side of his temple. “And what if I don’t care about that?” The voice gives him away.

“Jason?” He broke out of Blackgate weeks ago, a bloody trail in his wake. A trail that went cold, he hasn’t heard a peep out of the Red Hood since. “What?”

“Don’t struggle Dickie, I planted a bomb.” Of course he did. “Only I know where it is. Only I know how to disarm it. Maybe you could get your friends to find it, but only I know how much time is left and no amount of torture will get me to talk. After all, I was trained by the late and great Batman.” Dick resists the urge to punch him in the throat. “I’m going to take the gun away and we’re going to talk.” And the gun comes away. Dick slowly turns around.

“Games aren’t your style.” Jason prefers the direct route. “Although you never had much style to begin with. Always stealing everyone else’s personas, no creativity of your own. Is this supposed to be your Batgirl getup?” He gestures to Jason’s black clothes. “I thought your Nightwing impersonation was better.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “And you always talked too much. Stalling, stalling.” There’s a boom in the distance. Dick’s heart drops. Jason shrugs innocently. “Fireworks.” Another boom rings out. Dick glances at his watch. He’s right - they’re on schedule. “Oh and I’m going to need that. And your phone. And whatever else you have. Fast. We’re on a tight schedule.”

Dick hands everything over. “Public space. Risky play.” Lots of unknown variables.

Jason just shrugs. “The kids’ parents work for me. I closed off all the other entrances. I knew where you would sit. And I knew you wouldn’t go on the boardwalk. You’re pretty predictable. Might want to work on that, oh, and on creativity too, Batman. What a load of hypocrisy.”

Dick whistles through his teeth. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble for this.” The last time he met Jason, he was throwing together schemes. The time before that, playing copycat in a Batman suit. The schemes weren’t exactly well thought out. This is different. Quieter. Thorough. “What do you want?”

“Hmm what do I want? Now there’s a loaded question.” Jason grins. “I want you to stop stalling so your friends won’t catch up.” He gestures forward. “Let’s take a walk. Car’s in the lot. You know the drill, boy hostage. And be quiet, wouldn’t want to scare the kids.”

They walk out of the bathroom casually. “You’re not going to pull this off.” Dick hisses.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Jason hisses back. He stands out of reach and tosses Dick car keys on an old Gotham Knights lanyard. It matches the one he gave Jason when he got his license. It’s not the same. He held onto it for years. It blew up along with his apartment in Blüdhaven.

“What do you want?” Dick asks again as they reach the car. It matches the one Bruce gave Jason when he got his license. It’s not the same. Bruce sent it to scrap a week after Jason died. Not that he knew it at the time. But he found the records. And he saved the lanyard before it could get scrapped.

“For you to drive.” Dick ducks into the front seat, Jason sits in the passenger side.

“Where?”

Jason laughs. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ve always been great at co-piloting. It’ll be just like old times.”

“Hm.” Dick grunts.

“Perfect.” Jason crosses his arm behind his head. “Now drive straight out of here and take a left.”

The fireworks are in full view as they drive out of the park. Donna has to have noticed something, he tells himself. The path to the park takes fifteen minutes to walk. It’s been about five. Ten minutes can get them a few miles out, depending on the route. Then there’s the matter of the bomb. It’s going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

A bright light shines through his eyelids and he blinks stars out of his vision trying to regain his senses. “Whe-re?” The word feels heavy on his fuzzy tongue. His hands move sluggishly as he brings them to his face. No mask.

The lights dim, and the walls spin slightly, but he can make out damp brick and concrete floors. Jason stands in the corner. Not Red Hood. Which doesn’t make any sense unless he’s hallucinating.

Other than the wave of anxiousness that comes with waking up disoriented in a strange place, he doesn’t feel the tell tale horror of fear gas. And his face isn’t plastered into a permanent smile. Feeling around the top of his skull, there’s no hat - Mad Hatter’s not to blame for this one. It could be Ivy, the way the floor rocks back and forth is more reminiscent of her choice of poison. But hallucinations aren’t generally her style, and he doesn’t feel an undying love for the lady in green.

He stares at Jason. “What… you?” His words come out frustratingly slow. “Lesson?” The last time he hallucinated Jason, he had to come to terms with his legacy, and the time before that his fears. If he’s here it means there’s some sort of mental block he needs to work through. But he’s been… fine recently. Things have been good-ish. Stable at the least.

“Did you hit your head? Or did I drug you too much?” The hallucination isn’t making much sense. There’s bright light in his eyes again, scooting away, he smashes against the wall.

“You.” Wouldn’t drug him. “Hate drugs.” Jason frowns at him. It leaves him feeling more confused. Is he supposed to be learning something about the dangers of drugs right now? Because he thought he covered that lesson fifteen years ago with Bruce.

“Well. This sure puts a damper on things.” Jason replies sourly. And then he’s gone. Dick watches the walls move and tries to ignore what feels to be the start of a massive headache.

It’s been hours since Jason left. The memories of yesterday come with pounding in his head, and the dizziness ends with the contents of his stomach emptying out in the corner of the floor. His ‘hallucinations’ earlier make a lot more sense in context. And he’s fucking pissed about all of it.

The door swings open. “How are we-”

“What the actual FUCK is your problem!” Dick slams Jason’s shoulders against the door, and pins his forearm against his throat. “Seriously what the FUCK is wrong with you?!”

Jason just grins. “Bombs.” He chides. Dick stares piercingly, searching for any signs of deception, and finds none. He reluctantly backs away. Jason sighs, carelessly throwing his hands in the air. “You know, you messed up my timeline.”

“You drugged me!” He’s going to kill him. “And now I’m the one messing up the timeline, newsflash dipshit you can’t just drug someone and expect them to wake up feeling peachy keen! You of all people should know that considering-”

“My mom was a junkie?” Jason’s eyes flash dangerously.

“Is that what this is about? I haven’t been doing enough about Gotham’s drug problem?” He speculates. Now that’s hypocritical. “You’re literally half the problem.”

“You’re kidding me.” Jason laughs. “My product is clean, and my dealers don’t sell to kids and-”

“It’s fine if their parents get hooked and die right? Or get sick from swapping needles? Like-”

“Dick, shut the fuck up.” Jason punches him in the gut. He doubles over and spits up what little was left in his stomach. “This isn’t what this is about.” His hair’s nearly yanked out as he’s dragged into the other room. “You’re only wasting your own time.”

A large screen shows a timer counting down. Two masses of tangled wires sit underneath. “Bombs.” He reminds himself.

“Not exactly. Those aren’t the explosive ones, but if you don’t diffuse them, their look-alikes will go off.” Jason explains. Dick takes one look at the timer, and grabs the nearest bomb. He knows how to diffuse it, but it’s going to take time, and with a glance, he knows he only has enough time for one.

“Jason. I can’t diffuse both of these.” He starts sorting through the wires.

“I know. So which one will you choose?” Dick spares half a second to look back at him. “The one in your hands is hooked into a cell at Blackgate. It’ll kill five drug dealers if it goes off. The one on the table is hooked underneath a bus carrying the Gotham High soccer teams to a game out in Blüdhaven. I wonder how many kids will die if that one blows.”

“What?” A pit of dread is building in his stomach. He looks from the bomb in his hands, to the one on the table.

“Have you ever heard of the trolley problem?” Jason asks gleefully, as he tosses the bomb aside. “Only with this if you don’t choose, everyone dies.”

“Jason, you don’t have to do this.” Dick grabs the one on the table. “You can diffuse the other one.”

“I don’t want to.” Dick’s fingers fumble as he disconnects a blue wire from the center module of the device. “It’s your choice, Dickie. Choose wisely.”

“You wouldn’t endanger kids like this.” He hopes to god that someone thought to check Blackgate thoroughly after Jason escaped. He’s fumbling for reasoning. “Your dealers don’t sell to kids, you wouldn’t-”

Jason laughs. “You don’t even believe yourself, how am I supposed to be convinced by that? For shame, Bruce would have given a better speech. Maybe he could have convinced me.”

“Is he what this is about?” There’s thirty seconds on the timer. He doubles his speed. Bruce wouldn’t have played the game. Wouldn’t have been trapped. He needs to think. Find a way out.

“Oh, no. This is about you. And your decisions. Bruce is dead.” Twenty seconds left.

“Jason, we can talk about whatever I did just shut it off-”

“Is it fun to play god, Dickie? Isn’t it great you can’t be in two places at once? Does it make you feel less responsible for the people that die when you’re not around?” Ten seconds.

“Shut it down!” He pulls out the last cord, and makes a dive for the other bomb. Jason kicks it out of his hands. “No!” Zeroes flash on the screen. There’s no sound. But five people are dead.

“Oooh, nice try, but just a little too slow. You know Bruce wouldn’t have picked.” Jason drawls. Dick scrambles to his feet, running towards him. “Wouldn’t do that if I were you, more in the next room.” He changes his direction, and runs past him into the next room instead. Above the two bombs are pictures of Ivy and Scarecrow. The last he heard, they were both at large. “I caught them. They’re strapped to bombs somewhere. And this time, I’ll give you five minutes to make the decision.”

“What’s the catch?” He can diffuse both in that amount of time.

“Timer starts when you go in front of the line.” Jason points to a marked out area on the ground. “Personally, I’d let them both die, but the choice is up to you. Time starts now.” He has five minutes to figure a way out of this trap. But there’s no way of knowing how many people would die if he left.

He focuses his attention on Jason. “What do you want from me? An apology?”

“I want a Batman who will make the right decisions for Gotham. You won the cowl. Prove your worth.”

“That’s bull, this is personal. If you want an apology, fine for what? Not being on Earth when you died? I’m sorry. Okay? If I’d known I would have-”

“Let your friends die in space without you? Oh, I read the reports. I know you only barely scraped through. Tell me honestly, if you could go back, would you change your mind?”

Dick can’t answer. He can’t begin to do the math on that. “That’s not a decision I can-”

Jason cuts him off, raising his voice. “Oh, but you need to be able to make tough calls. Tell me, how many of your friends died because you didn’t make the right ones? Does it keep you up at night? Does it-”

“Shut up!” His heart is racing and his head pounds with Jason’s words. “I know I’ve fucked up, but that doesn’t mean-”

“You’re running out of time. Like those poor souls in Blüdhaven did. How many people died because you were never man enough to kill Deathstroke?”

It’s a punch in the gut. “Fuck you! Even if Slade wasn’t there, Chemo would have nuked another city. I’m not a god, I couldn't stop that.”

“Oh, try telling that to-”

“Shut up!” He needs to focus. Needs to tell Jason what he needs to hear, instead of letting him get on his nerves. “You’re right. If I was perfect, it wouldn’t happen. I would have magically saved you and everyone else. But I’m human.” His five minutes are up. He grabs Crane’s bomb, Ivy has a better chance of saving herself.

“Hmm, going for the man instead of the woman. Sexist of you.” Jason sounds disappointed.

“Ivy can figure something out, Crane’s just a dude.” His fingers shake as he reaches for the first wire. He needs to calm down. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

“You don’t need to understand.” Jason sighs. “But I am disappointed that you don’t. You know I don’t blame you for my death.”

“Then what is this about?” With ten seconds left, he scrambles for Ivy’s bomb. Jason doesn’t try to stop him; it’s already too late.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Jason sighs. “Well. I can’t blame you, you weren’t there.” The next door cracks open, and he can see the five minute timer start.

“No.” Jai and Irey. Or Lian. “I don’t believe you. There’s no way Roy or Wally would let you get anywhere close. Come on, they have Justice League level security, not even Bruce was good enough to get past that.”

Jason shrugs. “Are you sure? Is that a bet you’re willing to make?”

“I’ll kill myself before I choose. Have you thought about that? What’s the point if I’m dead?”

“Kill yourself, and you’ll kill everyone left in the game.” Well. That option is out then.

“And if I kill myself after, will you get what you wanted? There will be no Batman making tough calls or whatever the fuck you wanted, and it won’t be you, not if you kill the Titan’s kids. You’re bluffing.”

Jason stares at him sourly. “I’m not.”

“You still have the same tells as when you were thirteen. You’re bluffing.” He’s bluffing.

“Fine. Fine.” Jason sighs, shrugging. “You called me on it, I just wanted to see how this one would go. Moving on.”

“No, tell me what I don’t know.” The timer in the next room has started. “Cut the theatrics, what did I do to deserve this? I saved you in New York, you owe me.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Jason watches him carefully. “Except inspire the legend that got me killed.”

“I didn’t force Bruce to take you as his partner.” He replies coldly.

“But you gave me your blessing.” And his old suit.

“And not a day goes by that I don’t regret it. And I have to live with my decisions. But if I hadn’t, you would have still been Robin.” He has two minutes left. “Do you remember Danny?”

“Yeah. Little brat that ran around with the Titans.”

“His parents dumped him on us. They were secret agents. He was born into a dangerous life. I fired him after you died. Because you died. Maybe if you’d lived longer, he would have too.”

“That’s not my-”

Dick presses on, flipping the script. “He didn’t stop trying to help after he left the team, it’s what got him killed. How many people would you have saved if you didn’t run off to Ethiopia, Jason?” It’s not a fair question and he knows it.

Jason looks like someone slapped him. One minute is left. “Tim wouldn’t have become Robin, his dad would still be alive. Stephanie Brown wouldn’t have been tortured by Black Mask, hell maybe more of my friends would still be alive, if you hadn’t-”

“Shut up.” Jason’s voice is quiet. “I know what you’re doing. Trying to distract me. Make me mad. It won’t work. Make your choice, Dick.” Thirty seconds. Time for a gamble.

“If you stayed alive, Bruce wouldn’t have worked himself to death. You know he was always an emotionally abusive asshole to me, but you were good for him. He was always better with you, he loved you more, maybe if you stuck around he-”

Jason’s teeth grate together. “You want the truth?! The bastard never loved me. I gave Bruce a choice and he chose wrong.” He yanks off his leather jacket. “You’re going to make it right. No more games. We’ll skip straight to the grand finale.” There’s bombs strapped around his chest. He pulls two buttons out of his pockets. “Push one. Or they both go off in thirty seconds. Blue, I live, red hand Joker does. I made sure you have enough time to get clear either way.”

Moral calculus has never been Dick’s strong suit. “Are you happy now? Are you happy you know the truth? Do you want to know what your dear old dad chose? Do you want to know what I want from you? Kill him. For me. I don’t care that you weren’t there. But why in God’s name didn’t you love me enough to avenge me?”

Dick stares at the buttons. Fifteen seconds left. He did it once. And that’s the funny part. Jason doesn’t even know. He takes the buttons in his hands, and feels their weight. Ten seconds. “DO IT!” Blood rushes in Dick’s ears. The Joker’s probably out of the trap anyways. Five seconds. He presses the blue button.

Jason devolves into bouts of hysterical laughter. “And to think, that was all it took.”