New

in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 

But he wanted her. 

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question. 

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god. 

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 

Ben, is not in fact, going away. 

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  

But her cup says Ben. 

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 

Ironic, really. 

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance? 

Wasn’t it romance, though? 

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks. 

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.” 

i was showering but i thought of the most toxic idea ever but i kinda love it jst imagine “if i have to suffer, them you will suffer with me, and if being with me is so much torture then i will never leave” IT SOUNDS CORNY AND ITS BAD BUT I CANT GET IT PUT OF MY HEAD

004-fangirl

ex!suna rintarou x singer!reader

mt list

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HELLO NEW UPDATE, so i kinda forgot reader was a famous singer but i promise she will live the famous lifee

so, since atsumu is rlly famous he has found a lot of insane girls who would do anything for his money

y/n is in denial because she uses the hatred as a mechanism to cover the hurt

or well in more detail if she hates him then she doesnt feel sad or thats what she thinks

honestly i havent planned what their break up was but i have an idea and just telling yall everything could have been saved if they both knew how to communicate

tsumu and samu are really nice and lovely brothers to y/n

kei called bc y/n said she wanted to talk about suna and honestly he still roots for them

but y/n ended up mentioning him once and talking about a lot other stuff for three hours straight

ofc kei listened to everything hes a good listener but he wont admit that he doesn’t mind that shes yapping his ear off

as yall have noticed in most chapters just one important thing happens and the next is humor, i want it to feel natural and not too rushed and i also love crack smaus so yes

they call y/n kid and kiddo even though shes 8 minutes older than atsumu and 13 minutes older than osamu

taglist (OPEN) :

@lvc-lv @renardiererin @3lectraheart @nyxlai @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @wooasecret @sonicsolos @dazqa

hey guys im sorry i haven’t updated, i literally got evicted from my house and had to sleep on my car on a supermarket parking lot with my family yesterday, i still don’t have internet at my new house so idk when ill be able to upload again, love yall

lorenzo zurzolo the man that you are🙈

Petrichor [6]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 17,546 (next chapter is at most 10k i promise lol) 

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, canon violence, blood, bruises, mentions of nightmares, ptsd, jason is a little bit of an asshole, mentions of being tortured, mentions of the roof scene, mentions of being kidnapped, yes i did put an utrh reference in here, i eventually fix things with bruce later

Summary:❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: I tried to cut out some scenes from this chapter so I'm sorry lol but everything comes back at some point so it's important. I'm super excited for next chapter lol Also idk if you guys look at my chapter titles but sometimes, 2 chapter titles go together and this is one of those cases and I am so sorry lol It's from the song Destroy Me by PALESKIN if you were curious lol I hope you guys like it!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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By the time the next day comes, Jason and you are nearly as happy as you’ve ever been with each other. Finally, after everything that’s happened and after all these months, you have both the confirmation in your feelings. You have each other, wholly and solely. You are each other's and neither of you could possibly be happier. And for the first time, you're both doing your absolute best to ignore the anxiety that comes with that. For each other.

You both try to ignore the fear of one of you dying, or dying for each other. The fear of one of you leaving or giving up or pushing or running. For the first time, you both are finding it in yourselves to ignore those feelings because you are with the person you both trust the absolute most. And you both know, the other person deserves for you to suck up the fear and the anxiety and make a solid effort in not freaking out. Despite everything you’ve both ever known and been taught, you’re choosing each other and choosing to trust each other to always be by your sides. And you both are so happy. It’s practically euphoric.

“Good luck, Jay.” You offer Jason a sweet and gentle smile as you stand outside of Bruce’s car in front of a large house.

He is not thrilled about this. He’s done it before, several times. It’s exhausting seeing a new shrink, again, and having to tell the same damn stories over and over again. He gets the same diagnoses and that's the end of it. It never really helps. He’s left with another person knowing more about him than he would ever really like. It’s exhausting but it’s this or he’s not Robin anymore. Jason doesn’t give up that easily.

“Yeah.” Jason scoffs, looking to his shoes and back to you. “Thanks.”

“You’ll be fine and it’ll help.” Your smile grows as you pick his hand up in yours.

“We’ll see.” Jason chuckles softly. “Be here when I’m done?” Jason asks with the raise of his brows, hopeful.

In all honesty, you're masking this a bit more tolerable. You promised you’d always come with to drop him off and pick him up. Bruce doesn’t exactly trust you to drop him off. He thinks maybe you’ll ditch the appointments. So, you promise to come with and if you have to spend an hour with Bruce, you’ll do it for him. And he can then bitch to you all he wants about how the shrink doesn’t know shit and Bruce is ridiculous for making him do it. As long as he goes, you’ll be there. Before and after.

“Of course.” You chime, closing the distance between you and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

“Would rather keep doing this.” Jason mutters against your lips as he snakes his hands onto your waist.

“Too bad.” You kiss him again. “Your mental state comes first, Jaybird.”

Jason chuckles against your lips. “Yeah, alright, princess.”

You laugh softly. “Okay, get in there before you’re late.” You pull away and your smile is gentle. “I love you.” You beam, smiling with full teeth and your eyes are brighter than Jason has ever seen before.

“Love you, too.” Jason chuckles as the fluttering of his heart nearly sends him into cardiac arrest.

You watch Jason walk up the driveway and to the front door before he knocks. You watch and wait until a woman greets him and allows him into her home. A part of you thought maybe he’d try to bail out of it. Actually make a solid effort to anyway. You almost expected him to walk up the driveway and then sprint behind the house and take off, leaving you and Bruce to chase after him. But there he is, going into a therapist’s house on his own and you're happy for him. Relieved.

You don’t always think therapy will help but nothing else is helping him and at the end of the day, he needs help even if he wants to insist he’s fine. Everyone else around him knows he’s not. The limp isn’t because he’s still hurt. You know Bruce well enough to know he would have Jason checked out by a doctor to verify he was fine. It’s in his head which makes it all feel the same as if there were something physically wrong with him. He needs help. And he thinks no one notices his hands and the terrified expression after a nightmare. He can’t work through all his problems alone and he never should have had to. And you're proud of him for doing it even if he’s only doing it so he can be Robin. The point is that he’s going.

“What do we do now?” You ask Bruce as you get back into the front seat.

Bruce almost laughs. You and Jason have been beating around the damn bush since you showed up and you're finally doing something about it. Of course, never mentioning what that thing is to him and he finds the whole exchange a little amusing. Bruce has never told anyone, but Jason has always reminded him a little bit of himself. But, Jason is his son and you clearly make him happy.

“We could grab lunch while we wait.” Bruce offers.

“That’s fine.” You offer Bruce a soft smile.

Your issues remain with him. A part of you thinks Jason’s problem is still Bruce. Bruce was a lot of Dick’s issue. Had Bruce gotten Dick into therapy instead of giving him a mask and a cape, maybe Jericho wouldn’t have died because Dick would have been able to handle his problems better. Or, at the very least, maybe Dick could have handled that entire situation better and it wouldn’t have led Jason and you after Dr, Light. Maybe it wouldn’t have led Jason to the roof that day. Dick is an adult who can handle his own problems, but he was just a kid who was never taught how and you think the same is said for Jason.

Jason’s case is a little different. He wasn’t thirteen when Bruce took him in. But, maybe Bruce still could have done better. You do, however, admire the fact he’s trying now and maybe that’s what matters. He’s here now and trying and doing the one thing that might actually help. Forcing him to get help before he’s Robin again. You will never admit that to anyone though. So, you just go along with him for lunch and try your best.

After lunch, Bruce and you head back to pick up Jason. He’s not feeling great after the therapy session. He was never one that liked it very much. He was tossed around between therapists and psychiatrists while he was in the system. It was always repeating the same story over and over again, none of them offering anything that ever really helped. It was always more a state requirement and not because anyone actually gave a shit where his mental health stood. This therapist seems different than the others but like with everyone, Jason isn’t sure he trusts her. He gave her the same spiel about his parents and asked about her because that seemed easier than the same old boring story. But, she at least communicated with him and that part was at least nice.

“So, how did it go?” You ask once you're back at the manor in your room and away from Bruce. “You don’t have to tell me what you talked about or anything. Just asking how it went.” You shrug with ease.

“Fine, I guess.” Jason shrugs his shoulders as he stands near your fireplace. “Still not fucking happy about it.” A chuckle leaves his lips.

“Figured.” You match the chuckle, leaning back onto your hands, the bed soft under your palms. “When do you go again?”

“Next week.” Jason scoffs.

“Well, I’ll be there for you.” You smile softly at him and Jason thinks that’s the only upside. At least you’ll be there before and after.

“Yeah, thanks.” Jason lets out a breath. “Okay, well fuck that shit.” He approaches you, his eyes narrowing slightly as a smirk splits his lips. “Get ready. We’ve got a date to have.” He leans down, resting his hands on either side of you.

He’s tired of talking. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s going to do everything in his power to avoid it today. It’s too heavy and he wants today to be perfect. It’s your first date. Officially, as a couple.

“Oh, we’re going soon?” You perk up as your stomach swirls. This is real. It’s happening.

“Hell yeah. Got a whole fucking night planned, babe.” His voice is low and the way he smiles like this, the light hits his canines just right and it looks like he has small fangs. He’s so endearing.

“What are we doing?” You beam with excitement as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’ll see. Go get ready.” Jason urges, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay, Jay.” You peck his lips before Jason pulls up and lets you out of his grasp.

You get up and go to get ready. And Jason starts to feel nervous.

Technically, him and Rose never went on an official date. They mostly ran around Gotham, doing busts and then spent more of their time hiding out in someone’s house. There were no official dates. And come to think of it, Jason doesn’t think he’s ever done this before and he’s thinking maybe he went a little overboard with what he has planned. But he knows you better than anyone and he knows what you like. But then he comes back to realizing maybe he doesn’t know what you would like in forms of a date, it might be different than your usual thing. He’s just hoping he doesn’t royally fuck this up like he tends to have a habit of doing.

You meet Jason back in his room. You don't do much with your hair or your makeup, keeping both mostly the same as usual but you wear one of your nicer jackets. And even then, he swears you look beautiful. He smiles softly at you. He’s so in love with you and he really hopes you like the date.

He walks up to you and takes your hand in his. He hopes you don’t notice his hands are cold and clammy. You do but you think it’s cute. Jason nervous is not something that happens very often but the idea of him being nervous for your date, makes your head swim and your bones vibrate. He’s so cute.

The two of you head off on Jason’s bike, arriving at a movie theater in the city. Jason takes you to see a movie you mentioned wanting to see. It’s simple but it’s something he knows you really like movies. And he’s not one for big fancy dates. This is simple and it’s you. You find the gesture adorable because you don’t like the idea of a fancy restaurant either. This is kind of your thing. You’d go with a group sometimes, sure, but it’s your way of showing him how much you care. Showing him your things and movies is one of those things. And you adore him for it.

After the movie, you head back to the manor where Jason has insisted the date isn’t over yet. While he’s not one for something fancy, he is one for making an effort. Words are hard, they always have been and he knows sometimes he’s never going to be able to tell you exactly what you mean to him. But, for your first date, he can make as big of an effort as he can to show it. Even though you don’t need him to. You already know.

“Okay, keep your eyes closed.” Jason states as you both stand in the main living room, his hand intertwined with yours.

“If you walk me into a door, Jason--”

“I won’t!” Jason laughs. “Do you trust me?” He asks and it’s a little sarcastic and cocky.

“Yes.” You mock, keeping your eyes closed but you want to roll your eyes at him.

“Okay, so trust me.” Jason states as he leads you through the kitchen and into the courtyard.

He looks around, letting out a breath and he definitely owes Molly and Bruce for this one. Though, he thinks they’ll be giving him enough shit that maybe he won’t have to.

“Okay, you can open.” Jason nearly holds his breath as you open your eyes to see the backyard.

There’s a projection screen in the grass with a projector on one of the outdoor tables. Blankets and pillows cover the grass in front of the screen. The tables are lined with a variety of snacks, all of them being your favorite. And there are fairy lights decorating the rest of the courtyard.

Jason remembers what you said about that scene in Tangled, with the lanterns. Fairy lights aren’t lanterns, but they give somewhat of the same effect. So, he took inspiration from it. Because maybe, Jason’s a little bit of a hopeless romantic underneath the trauma. And he’d do anything for you. Cliche and cheesy and all.

“You--how?” You look over at him, eyes wide and a smile tugging at your lips. A lump forms in your throat as your entire chest nearly combusts into flames.

“I asked Molly and Bruce for help while we saw the movie.” Jason grins at you. “You didn’t really think we were just watching a movie for our first date, did you?” Jason quips, hiding his nervousness under his cocky grin.

“You asked for help?” You ask and you're not sure what’s more surprising. The courtyard or Jason asking for help. “I actually knew we’d go see a movie but this? Wow.” You look around, your voice soft and tender.

“Yeah.” Jason scoffs. “Look, you deserve it and you liked that scene in Tangled so. I needed some help while I distracted you.”

You swear it’s perfect because at the end of the night, it’s just him and you. It’s him and you in the courtyard watching your favorite movies. It’s him and you when it matters. He’s thoughtful and caring and kind and loving. Jason has only ever known pain and neglect but when it comes to you, he manages to show love and tenderness. You don’t really understand how he manages it but you're eternally grateful for this boy with dark hair and green eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” You say softly. “Thanks, Jay.”

“You like it?” Jason asks, stuffing his hands into his front pockets, something you've picked up he does when he’s nervous.

“Yes, of course!” You beam. You let go of his hand and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him for a deep kiss. His hands meet your hips as if on instinct, giving a light squeeze.“What’re we watching?” You ask against his lips.

Jason pulls away and there’s a grin of pride and confidence this time. “I’ve got Ready Or Not lined up since we didn’t get a chance to see it before it left theaters and Little Women. I read the book and the trailer seemed good. I think you’ll like it.” Jason states as he squeezes your hips again.

“Do you really remember everything I tell you? And I did want to see Little Women, just didn’t think you’d be into it.” You chuckle softly.

“Yeah,” Jason’s chuckle is gentle this time, bashful even. “It’s important to you.” He rolls his shoulders. “See, I know you.” Jason grins at you, wiggling his brows.

“Yeah, you do.” You scrunch your nose before pressing another kiss to his lips and dropping your arms from him. You head over to the snacks. “This is really nice, Jay.” Your smile is gentle and you love him with every fiber of your existence. “Thank you.”

“You deserve it.” Jason holds his head with pride, joining you to grab snacks.

“I get to plan the next date.” You offer him a devious smirk.

“Now, that’s unsettling.” Jason teases. “But fine.”

The two of you grab your snacks and head off to the blankets and pillows that are laid out for you before Jason starts the first movie. The two of you cuddle up with each other, attention mixing between the movie and each other. Your legs are rested over him as his arm is behind you and you just exist together.

To love, wholly and honestly, is terrifying because of the pain that seems to be intertwined with love. To love is to be brave and honest and optimistic. To love is something powerful but, to be loved back, that’s the greatest feeling in the world.

It’s the acceptance and understanding that comes with being loved back. It’s being loved for every broken piece and every bad, ugly, and terrible moment that comes. It’s knowing there will be bad days and hard days where the world seems to want to destroy every happy and peaceful moment, but choosing that person anyway. Falling in love is accidental, but staying in love is done on purpose. And that is why it’s so indescribable and remarkable and powerful. It is choosing to love and be loved back, risking the pain. And at the end, it’s worth it.

For Jason. And for you.

Over the next few days, everyone gets the news you and Jason have finally made things official. Gar and Kory actually kind of figured you were together. It was more of an inside joke with the Titans back in San Francisco. How long it was going to be before the two of you realized you were actually dating. Gar won. Dick wasn’t in on it (mostly because he thought you were friends this whole time who were just too oblivious and stubborn to say anything). So, they’re all happy to see the two of you happy together. Even Conner who didn’t really get a chance to know Jason and who only knew you for a short time.

Molly is your biggest fan though. She’s the best friend of the two of you. Her best friends are dating each other and she knows you’re both stubborn as hell with minimal self-preservation unless it comes to your hearts. You’ve both always been so guarded and she swears up and down, you’re supposed to be together. You’re the most guarded people she’s ever met and yet, the two of you manage to open up to each other. She swears you’re meant for each other. 

Today, Jason goes out with Molly while you hang back at the manor to have a training session with Bruce and a marathon with Gar afterward. The training session is fine but it's definitely not as fun without Jason. So, you're relieved when you can just sit down and have your marathon with Gar, filling him in a little bit on you and Jason. He's really happy for you both and it means a lot to you. He's your best friend.

But, with the marathon underway, it’s interrupted as Bruce walks into the living room.

“Excuse me.” Bruce calls from the doorway, pulling your attention away from the show and Gar.

“Is that Bruce Wayne?” Gar beams.

“Yes.” You furrow your brows at the screen before looking back at Bruce. “Oh, did you need the living room? I can move to my room.”

“No, no.” Bruce shakes his head. “You're fine in here. I was wondering if I could speak to you, however.”

“Uh…” You look back to your screen. “We’re…we’re kind of watching something, can we talk later or do you need to talk now?” You don’t know why he didn’t just talk to you earlier.

“I would like to talk now before Jason gets home.” Bruce states.

“Oh…” You widen your eyes before looking at the screen. “Pause it and I’ll call you back when we’re done?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Hey, Bruce.” Gar chimes.

“Hello, Garfield.” Bruce chuckles slightly as he walks further into the living room.

“Okay, I’ll call you soon. Don’t continue without me.” You warn with a fake glare that turns into a cheeky smile before you end the call.

Bruce takes a seat at the armchair beside the couch and you watch him cautiously. It’s weird. You don’t really talk one-on-one and if you were being honest, you prefer it that way. You're growing to like Bruce, slowly. He doesn’t seem so bad. It’s just, every time you have that thought, you can hear Dick in the back of your head warning you. And Jason telling you about Dick taking out one of the trackers he knew about and how he shouldn’t do that because Bruce is looking out for them. And you catch yourself keeping your distance. So, you don’t normally talk like this unless you have to and it’s sending off alarms in your head.

“What’s up?” You ask slowly.

“How are you?”

You raise a brow at him. It’s weird because Bruce definitely doesn’t seem the type to be asking someone how they are. “Uh…fine. Yeah, I’m fine.” You nod at him, giving him a soft smile. “Why?” Your eyes narrow with suspicion.

“You have been through a lot. I wanted to make sure you were okay with everything that has happened.”

“Uh…yeah? Still fine, just the usual, I guess.” This is fucking weird. Even for Bruce Wayne. “Why didn’t you ask earlier?”

“We were training. I didn’t want to distract you.” Bruce sucks in a deep breath.

“Um…okay. Well, I’m fine. I’m just trying to watch some stuff with Gar.” You nod your head and he said he wants to talk before Jason gets home which means there is something about Jason he wants to talk about. “Bruce, I appreciate you checking up on me but if I’m being honest, I think you know I’m fine or that I will be and I am getting better because I know Dick and Jason filled you in. So, I think you’re asking how I am so you can ask about Jason.”

“I do want to know how you are.” Bruce defends in his usual stoic way that's somehow a little unsettling.

“Yeah, no, I mean I’m sure you care and everything. But, if what you really want to know is about Jason, you can just ask.” You let out a sigh and you can’t understand why these bird boys have to beat around the damn bush so much. “If you wanted to ask about me, it wouldn’t matter if Jason were home.” You nod your head as you scrunch your nose.

Bruce lets out something you think might be a chuckle. “Is he okay?”

You blink at him because you can’t believe he’s asking you that. Surely, he knows. That’s why he’s going to therapy because he’s not. Seriously what is it with the batboys that they can’t just talk?

“You sent him to a shrink?” You question.

“I mean,” Bruce clarifies. “Since going. He hasn’t said much to me. I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Truthfully, if Bruce actually wanted to be honest, that isn’t really why he’s asking. He sees a lot of himself in Jason. That is the problem. He doesn’t want Jason running himself into the ground over being Robin. Bruce has done that to himself too many times. He’s been thinking about it and what Jason means to him as a son. He’s worried about him, even with the therapy. Bruce knows you care about him. He hopes that’s enough for you to give him some insight

“Why?” You ask slowly as you narrow your eyes.

“He’s my son and I’m worried about him.” Bruce answers candidly.

“Yeah, no, I mean why are you asking me?” You shake your head, a snip your voice. It’s not your job to communicate for the two of them. They’re adults.

“I thought you might know.” Bruce nods.

“Of course, I know, I know everything about him. But you should know if he’s okay.” You widen your eyes as you furrow your brows. “He’s your son.”

Bruce lets out a sigh of defeat but you keep talking.

You have more to say. It’s not your job to communicate between the two of them but it’s clear someone needs to. You don’t care much for Bruce but Jason does. And that’s important. And he’s not okay. You think seeing Leslie will help him but, maybe telling Bruce isn’t such a bad idea. Jason needs the help and that means telling Bruce.

“Bruce, I think Jason Todd has never been okay a single day in his life.” Your voice is quiet and normally you wouldn’t be saying anything but it’s gotten to the point where you're really worried about him.

You being officially together over the last week has been absolutely incredible. You both are certainly the happiest you’ve both ever been with each other. But, Jason is derailing anyway and you always knew it would happen. Your validation for him is not what he needs. It will never be the thing that he needs because you're not Bruce and you're not Dick and that’s fine. It is never about your validation when it comes to him. His issues lie with the two of them, not you. So, Bruce making him see a therapist, is driving him a little bit insane. It’s only been a week though, so you hold out hope maybe it’ll help in the long run. But, you tell Bruce anyway because he should know. He always should have known.

Bruce nods with understanding. “He has not had an easy life.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You let out a scoff. “I think saying he hasn’t had an easy life is putting it lightly.” There’s a snark and a bite to your voice because you can just hear Dick in the back of your head.

Not to trust him. It doesn't matter that Bruce and Dick sorted out their shit. A part of him doesn’t trust Bruce and every time you think maybe, just maybe, Bruce has changed enough where Dick is wrong, he says something or does something where you know he hasn’t. This is one of those things. He shouldn’t be asking you if Jason is okay or saying he hasn’t had an easy life. It’s his literal job to know if Jason is okay and how to help him. It shouldn’t be up to you to tell him.

Bruce nods. “It’s been rough for him.”

“Ya know, it’s just….I don’t think Jason has ever felt….protected, safe, cared for….or loved in….at least most of his life. He felt, at least, most of that here and as Robin but all of that is gone and Deathstroke changed a lot of that. Bruce, he’s not okay and I am only even telling you this because I’m worried.”

Being happy in a relationship doesn’t make the pain of everything traumatic that’s happened just go away. It doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t suddenly fix and mend and cure mental illness. You wish it did but it doesn’t. Being happy and traumatized can co-exist. He is happy with you and you know that, but in the last week, he’s still waking up screaming from nightmares and he’s still limping after training. He’s still terrified. And you're endlessly worried about him.

“He can’t be Robin again, not yet. I made mistakes with Dick and I don’t want to repeat them with Jason. That’s why I want him to see Leslie.”

It’s not that you agree or disagree with it. But you do want to know why Bruce treats Jason and Dick the same way. They’re wildly different people. Maybe taking Robin from Dick and sending him to therapy would have worked, simple as that. But Jason isn’t Dick. Robin means everything to him. Why can’t he be Robin and see Leslie? Why does he have to be benched entirely instead of half the week even? It’s just not very fair to Jason, in your opinion.

“Okay, I get that, but you know Jason. He’s gonna prove to you he can be Robin.” You shake your head. “He’s going along with it for right now and maybe it’ll help. I hope it does, but what if it doesn’t?” You raise.

“We’ll have to have that conversation if we get there.”

“Okay yeah, and what you want him to just see a shrink for the next year with his fingers crossed he’s not permanently benched from the most important thing in his life? Only for something to happen and you rip it away from him entirely?”

“You believe he should be Robin at this point? You just said yourself he is not okay. It’s not safe for him to be out there. Do you think it would be safe to send him out there if he is deemed not well enough?”

It's not that. It's that you know, firsthand, that Jason will absolutely go out of his way to prove himself. You both do it. Jason isn't going to be able to stay benched for months on end. He's just not going to. And you know that. The fact Bruce doesn't when he knows why Jason wanted to go after Dr. Light, is infuriating. And it scares the hell out of you.

He's going to prove himself if Bruce doesn't give him Robin back eventually. One day, Jason is gonna think he's had enough and he just needs to prove himself and he'll try. The last time that happened, you both were kidnapped, tortured, and dropped from a skyscraper. And that is lucky. Somehow, that was actually lucky because you both made it out alive. What happens if he doesn't get so lucky next time?

“Whatever I think about him being Robin is completely irrelevant. It’s not my place to have an opinion. It is yours but…I’m just saying, he’s gonna prove to you he can be Robin eventually. He’ll get bored and tired of waiting.” You state. “He did in San Francisco.” You shake your head. “He’s gonna get himself killed one day if he does that, to prove you wrong.”

With Robin off the table, the training sessions have gotten…a little nuts. He’s rougher than usual and you can handle it just fine, he's not out of control. But he’s more relentless. He’s training himself into the ground again. He just wants to prove to Bruce that not only is he capable, but he’s better than Dick ever could be. Without even realizing it, Bruce doing this and the way he treated Dick, he’s pitting them against each other. And Jason is set on proving to Bruce he’s fine. No matter the cost.

“He won’t do that. He knows the rules. If I tell him not to go—“

“Dude, seriously? We knew the rules in San Francisco, too and then we went anyway. Jason is your responsibility and you have to do something, I can do everything I can but it’s not gonna be enough.” You stress because even when you have hope that therapy is gonna help over time, you aren’t sure if Jason is actually going to put in the time to let it work. And you're worried what will happen if he quits.

“I can’t let him be Robin and let him get killed out there. You said yourself, he will get killed out there. I made mistakes in the past, I cannot repeat them.”

A part of you want to blow. You were always right about him. He wouldn’t have to worry so damn much if he would stop recruiting kids to be fucking Robin. He wouldn’t have to worry so much if he would stop weaponizing their grief. He turned Jason and Dick into weapons and he’s, somehow, the one paying the consequences of that. You think the whole thing is ridiculous. It’s like he doesn’t see what he’s done to either of them and how fucked up this whole thing is. But, that’s not your place to tell him off about him recruiting people. For Jason’s sake. So, you decide you're gonna fall back on your usual reasoning for having a distaste towards him.

“Okay, you know what, you wouldn’t have to worry so fucking much if you’d just kill those fucks. Like, you know that right?” You snip.

“We do not kill people.” Bruce’s jaw squares just slightly. “We talked about this. Once you kill one person, it gets easier to kill the next until the lines blur. We cannot be the ones deciding who lives and who dies.”

You let out a scoff followed by a hollowed laugh. “And at what point is that not good enough?” You grit your teeth. “How many times have you captured the Joker?”

Bruce knows the number but he won’t say. “Several. I always catch him.”

“And every time Joker escapes, he kills at least one person. So, if over the last 10 years, you got more than 10 people killed by letting the Joker roam around and one of those people were my mom.” A lump forms in your throat with the mention of your mom. It’s some sick joke him and the Joker like to play almost. It’s like a damn game of chicken in the worst fucking way. “You let the Joker kill my mom. I’m not talking about Penguin or Scarecrow, I’m talking about killing the Joker. He puts bombs in buildings for fun. He’s killed thousands of people since I’ve been alive. You could have saved those innocent people if you would have just killed the Joker.” You shake your head. “And he’s the main one you’re worried about, right? He just escaped Arkham again, right?”

You shake your head and this whole thing is insane. It’s not even that you expect Bruce to toss his morals out the window. But you think it’s something he should consider if he's so damn worried about it. Deathstroke was different. He was the best mercenary in the world. You and Jason never stood a chance but the fuckeads here? Bruce’s usuals, they aren’t much concern besides one. And you know it. That’s why you’re having this talk right now.

“It’s the Joker. We literally laughed in Penguin’s face. Mr. Freeze, Bane, Scarecrow, and Mad Hatter are all locked up. Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy aren’t even a concern. The Riddler doesn’t kill people. I know you are not worried about fucking Condiment Man or Kite Man. I can keep going. But it always comes back to the Joker being the main concern, if Jason fucks up out there with him, that's it. Right?”

Bruce gains a scowl. He doesn’t appreciate you calling him out. You aren’t right but you aren’t wrong either. “It is not just about the Joker. And I cannot cross that line.” Bruce states firmly. “You should know that. You cannot cross that line either. The Joker is still a person and I will not determine if he gets to live or die. That is not how this works.”

“And what are you gonna do when he kills Jason? Or Dick? Or the next Robin? It’s gonna happen, it will. He’ll kill one of them eventually and then it’ll be too late.”

“I will not kill him for a what if situation.” Bruce lets out a sigh and this is not where he thought this conversation was going to go. A part of him thinks there’s a chance you're doing this on purpose to avoid telling him more about Jason. You're good at deflecting and not just when it’s about yourself. “That is not justice.”

“Then the guilt will eat you alive when it happens and then I’ll find a way, myself, to kill whoever kills him. Joker’s death is inevitable regardless and you could prevent the death of your sons.” You shake your head and get up from your spot, grabbing the tablet from the table. “I respect what you try to do as Batman and taking in Dick and Jason. I think that’s admirable. But, I think everyone has morals and sometimes you have to toss your morals aside for the greater good.”

“Even if that means someone has to die?”

“The Joker is a homicidal psychopathic sadist…so yeah. I don’t narc, I don’t tell anyone what happens with me and Jason, ever. But I’m telling you that he is not okay. Putting my morals aside because I care about him. I know you do, too, but you need to figure out how to get that through his thick skull or let him be Robin. It’s that simple. Always has been. Always will be.” You end the conversation, heading back to your room because that conversation was going nowhere and it never will.

You feel your blood boil and there is just something about Bruce sometimes. You don’t see it. You don’t see why Jason looks up to him so much. Maybe it’s just because Bruce saved him. Maybe some part of Jason is so hung up on that that he can’t see through Bruce’s other bullshit. But it irks you anyway, even when Bruce is genuinely trying to be better with him.

You just find the whole thing real rich. If he didn’t want to watch his kids die, he shouldn’t have offered them the vigilante lifestyle from the beginning. Maybe they both would have ended up here anyway. They both like to help people and that can’t be just a Bruce thing. But, maybe it would have been safer.

Maybe had Bruce offered therapy from the start, it would have been better or if he could just have a damn conversation with them. Literally, anything could work besides what he’s doing now. Training them to be brainwashed, taking them out to the cabin, training their bodies into a world of pain. Manipulating them with the idea of being invincible because of a mask and a cape. Anything has to be better than that.

And you feel like you can’t even tell Jason about it because he’ll get mad and annoyed further with Bruce. He’ll be annoyed he went to you to talk. And you know him, you just know he’ll think it’s because Bruce doesn’t think he’s good enough and you can’t let him think that about himself. And it is not your place to complain about his adoptive father. So, you keep it to yourself as you grind your teeth and call Gar back.

You pretend everything is fine as you and Gar continue your marathon until Jason gets home a few hours later.

“Hello, beautiful.” Jason chimes as he stands in the doorway of your room.

You look over with burning cheeks. He looks happy right now. So, you smile back, pretend like you aren’t still annoyed with Bruce. The call with Gar helped but then he had to go and the annoyance flooded you once more.

“Jaybird.” You say with ease as Jason walks into your room, tossing his jacket onto the end of your bed.

“How’s Gar?” He presses a kiss to your forehead before sitting down beside you.

“Good.” You answer simply as you suck in a breath. “He, uh, he misses us and Rachel but he said he’s good. He really likes being a Titan, you know Gar.” You laugh softly.

“He could come visit.” Jason chuckles softly.

He misses him, too. They lived down the hall from each other for four months and went through some crazy shit together. They’re best friends. Jason thinks it’d be cool to have Gar come. He could show him the Batcave.

“That’s what I said.” You widen your eyes. “He said he’d ask Dick about it.”

“Cool.” Jason laughs softly.

“Yeah.” You let out a breath as you look back to the tablet.

Jason watches you carefully and he knows you. Something’s off. You usually have more to say. You usually ask about Molly or whatever Jason is up to when he comes back home. You didn’t this time and you look like you're not really here with him. Your eyes are distant. The corners don’t crinkle when you laugh. Your jaw is clenching and you didn’t even mention what you and Gar watched.

“You going out tonight?” He asks and his words are a little flat.

He doesn’t mean for them to be. But, it’s sore. You still go out with Bruce. You asked him what you should do because you didn’t want to overstep. Going out on patrol with Bruce is Jason’s thing. But, you don’t really want to give it up either. You love patrolling and the more you do it, the more you understand why Robin has become Jason’s entire world. But, if Jason asked you not to go with Bruce, you wouldn’t. You’d go on your own if you had to. But, Jason assured you it was fine even if it hurts, even if he wants to tell you to not to do it. Even if feels like you're overstepping.

You shake your head and furrow your brows, bringing your attention back to him. “No, I just wanna stay here with you tonight.” You scrunch your nose, trying not to set off Jason’s alarm bells.

You don’t want to be around Bruce. The only thing you want to do is be with Jason tonight. You love patrolling but not tonight. Not tonight when you're reminded of the cruelty you face every day and the life-or-death stakes that exist outside of this manor. Outside of this safe bubble. The conversation, knowing the Joker is out there and likely who Bruce will be trailing tonight, reminds you of what could happen out there. You know. You already know but sometimes conversations take place and it becomes real. Patrolling and fighting, that’s fun and it’s easy to forget the stakes. And while you're terrified of Jason dying, he’s not the one going out there right now. You are. What would he do if you didn’t come home?

You just want to stay here with him tonight. It’s too heavy tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asks, searching your face for any indicators.

“Nothing.” You lie. “Can’t want to stay in for a night with my boyfriend?” You say it like that on purpose but Jason sees through it.

You aren’t as insistent on patrol as he is. But you haven’t missed a single night since you got the suit. You're turning it down and he doesn’t get why. There’s something wrong and he knows it. He always knows.

“I know your fucking obsessed with me,” Jason starts with a chuckle, earning himself an eye roll. “But, I know when something’s going on with you.”

“It’s nothing, Jay.” You sigh. “I just want to stay in.”

“What happened?” Jason pushes, gritting his teeth because now he’s thinking someone did something. To you.

He thinks of the conversation with Molly, how she thinks you'll run. She told him she's worried that you're gonna be the one to fuck it up, not him. And that if you do, Jason should just not let you, even if he wants to push. It's what you both do, push and run. Molly is right. It’s what you do but if you both don't want to hurt each other, you both need to find a way not to do that. So, he tries.

“Can you drop it, please? I’m fine.” You rest a hand on his cheek, offering a tender smile. “Thank you.”

“Worried about you.” Jason states.

“How the tables have turned.” You widen your eyes, dropping your hand.

“I’m fucking serious.” Jason doesn’t so much as grin at you.

He can’t lose you. He is so certain of that. He can’t lose you in any capacity. So, he pushes just as you do with him. There’s something wrong and if someone did something, to scare you out of going on patrol, he doesn’t care what Bruce says. He’ll go back out there.

“I….Bruce he talked to me about something and I just…” You grit your teeth. “I don’t want to go out tonight.” You shrug your shoulders, voice laced in annoyance.

“What did he do?” There’s a mix of anger and confusion in his voice. Jason trusts Bruce but he knows as much as you fake it, he knows you don’t.

“Nothing.” You shake your head. “Just, uh…Joker was brought up and you know. Shit sucks. So I just don’t want to go out tonight.” You bite your tongue with every worry you have because you can’t burden him with it.

You can't put worried thoughts into his head. He has enough going on. And you know that he does worry, in his own way, when you're out there. He's more subtle than you are and he's not nearly as paranoid but he loves you and wants you to be safe. It's a natural thing. You don't want to add to that burden by saying you're worried about what he'd do if you died. On top of the rest of the conversation with Bruce, it's just too much and you don't want him to deal with it. Not right now.

“Your mom?” Jason asks.

“Yeah.”

“You know you can tell me, right?” Jason questions, getting the feeling it’s more than that. When it involves your mom, you're sad and you tell him. You seem annoyed today.

“I know.” You offer a weak smile. Guilt feeling heavy in your chest. “It’s just….it’s heavy today and I’m tired of it being heavy. I’m fine though, Jaybird. Can you just…..read to me when Bruce leaves, please?”

Jason nods softly, moving closer to you. “Yeah, of course. Did you want to talk about it?” He asks before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thanks, Jay.” You smile softly. “No, I’m okay.”

“You and me.” Jason smiles softly and he’s worried about you, too.

You rest your forehead against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, it’s just one of those days, ya know? Where it just…”

“Feels worse again.” Jason finishes.

“Yeah.” You pick your head up.

He wants to help and Bruce doesn’t leave for a few more hours. So, his solution is training. It always helps you, too anyway. He just doesn’t want you to feel the heaviness of it and if he doesn’t have to carry the weight alone, neither do you. It’s like he told you, you can put it on him. He’ll carry it for you.

“I get it.” Jason stands up abruptly. “Wanna train about it?” Jason wiggles his brows, offering you his hand.

You roll your eyes but there’s a smile tugging on your lips. He always gets it. “Yeah, I almost won yesterday.” You put your hand in his, getting to your feet.

“Maybe I let you win one round, think of that?” Jason teases.

“You wouldn’t let me win anything.” You scrunch your nose. “You’re too competitive.” You beam at him as Jason lets out a laugh and swings his arm over your shoulders.

“Guess that’s true.” He says as the two of you make your way to train.

You know you’ll tell him your concerns later and tell him about Bruce because while it might not be fair to tell him, it’s also not fair for you to hide it. He trusts you and he’s doing better about telling you everything that bothers him. You owe him the same. But right now, it's just too heavy to deal with and you just want to sit with him and forget about everything for a while.

Jason is really good about helping you forget and letting you relax so it’s easier to tell him. It's one of the many reasons you adore him and wholeheartedly love him more than anything on this planet.

After a few rounds of sparring, you having lost because Jason really can’t let you win, you move to the targets. When Jason runs out on his end, he takes a break, sitting a few feet behind you and to the right, having a drink of Gatorade.

He watches you when you train. There’s something enthralling about it. You throw the knives at the target with so little effort, Jason can’t help but stare. He remembers how bad you were at combat all those months ago. He never told you, but you were not good. It was obvious you never wanted to throw a punch, like you never hit someone before and you hadn’t. Maybe a part of him thought you might be hopeless. Even when you fought Jerry, Jason is pretty sure you only got as far as you did because he was surprised and you had a hit of adrenaline hit your system from the anger. You never stood a chance otherwise. But now, you make Jason actually put up a fight in training.

He puts in effort to make sure you don’t pin him now. You never miss a target. You're even getting over your fear of heights with having to grapple from building to building and with being on so many rooftops. You're so good at all of this now and his entire chest warms because he knows a part of that is because of him. But the other part, wants to completely shatter.

On the one hand, you never wanted to be violent. You told him that, more than once. You never wanted to be this way and now you are. It’s not his fault. He didn’t make you that way. That was Jerry, that was the Joker. But he looks at what you've become and he feels guilty anyway because he doesn’t stop you from being violent. He encourages it. And he thinks of how he was before Robin.

It wasn’t that Jason was violent. That was never it. He could pick a fight just as good as the next person. But it was out of survival. It wasn’t because he liked the bloody and bruised knuckles. Or coming back with his body covered in shades of navy and maroon and the pain that went along with it. It was how he had to survive. Fight or die. Fight or let people take advantage of him.

He was small. He got lucky he grew taller as he got older but he was a small kid. It was either learn to fight and take what he could or get taken advantage of or die trying. It was learn to fight and hold his own or deal with whatever his dad would dish out or the new guy his mom brought home that didn’t really like kids. It was never that he wanted to be violent.

He was just angry with the world. Robin gives him the outlet. Robin lets him be violent in a way that’s productive. Robin lets him choose violence. Robin lets him pick fights that matter. Robin lets him let the anger and the violent side of him be a good thing instead of something that hinders him and something people find to be annoying and a nuisance. Robin has given him so fucking much including that outlet and he can’t lose it. And he just gets so fucking mad when he thinks about it. He’s mad about it being taken away and mad at Bruce and a little mad at you for getting to use his outlet as your own, even when he knows that’s not fair.

It’s the anger that always got the best of him. Not the violence.

“Where’s your head, Jay?” You ask, looking over your shoulder from the targets as Jason sits on the floor behind you.

Jason snaps away from his thoughts, looking over to you. “What?” He furrows his brows up at you.

“You’re quiet and you’re never quiet unless something is bothering you.”

It’s only been two weeks but you know him better than anyone. It’s been rough for him not having Robin. He wasn’t Robin, technically, in San Francisco. He wasn’t supposed to be anyway. He was supposed to be taking a break but that didn’t seem to bother him as much as it does now. You’re not entirely sure what the difference is this time but whatever it is, you’ve got this feeling that there’s something more going on. Something’s poking at his head.

Jason shakes his head. “Want to get back out there.” Jason scoffs.

You nod. “Yeah…” You suck in a breath, looking at your target full of knives before you move to sit in front of him. You match his position, stretching your legs out right beside his with your hands on the floor behind you to hold your weight. “You sure it doesn’t bug you I go out?” You ask.

Of course, it bothers him. That’s his thing. But, it’s yours, too. Maybe it wouldn’t sting as much if you weren’t going out with Bruce. But, there’s nothing he can do about it and it would be wrong for him to even try. So, he bites his tongue about it.

“It’s fine, it’s your thing, too.”

You shake your head. “Yeah, but if it bothers you, I can wait until you get Robin back or I can just go out on my own.” You offer.

The first night Jason was benched, Bruce asked if you’d still join I’m for patrol. Jason assured you it was fine. So, you went and you talked later about it. He swore up and down it would be fine. You like to go out on patrol. You like to help people and who is he to try and take that away from you? You’d never do that to him.

“You think Bruce will be okay with that? You going out on your own?” Jason quips.

You grin before you let out a laugh. “Well, probably not anymore.”

Jason furrows his brows, his eyes scanning over your face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You bounce around how to tell him about your conversation with Bruce earlier without including the stuff about him. It’s hard because on the one hand, you respect Bruce but on the other, he can be a little insufferable. And Jason looks up to him for reasons you don’t really think you’ll entirely understand. It’s not your place to speak poorly of him to Jason. So, you tell him but you hope he doesn’t ask what sparked the conversation in the first place.

“We, uh, we had a moral disagreement today.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you raise your brows.

“Ah,” Jason nods his head. “That why you don’t wanna go out tonight?” The moral disagreement doesn’t surprise him. He knows how you feel about all of it but he is a little surprised you even brought up to Bruce.

“Amongst a few other things but yeah. I think he might think I’ll kill people now.” You roll your eyes.

Jason lets out a snort. “What the hell did you even say to make him think that?” Jason shakes his head. “Wait, let me guess.”

“I’m listening.” You gesture a hand for him to continue.

Jason clears his throat. “You should kill the Joker. He’s a piece of shit maniac clown who kills people for fun. He should be dead.” Jason grins at you. “Sound about right?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You groan through a laugh as you tilt your head back. “No.” You shake your head at him. “I said he was a homicidal, psychotic, sadist.” You state. “And that he should die, yes.” You mutter softly while Jason lets out a booming laugh.

He is certain you’ll never let it go which he doesn’t blame you for. He gets it. He doesn’t like his dad but a part of him still wanted to go after Two-Face. Dick went after Zucco. Parents are killed and their kids want to take revenge. But, he also knows you and he doesn’t think you’d ever actually try to kill anyone, but especially the Joker. You have more self-preservation than that.

“And he said something about we don’t cross that line or whatever?”

“Yep.” Your eyes widen as you nod your head. “Him and Dick think it’s ridiculous as if Dick didn’t feel that same way, ya know? But it’s the Joker. So, uh, I might have said his death is inevitable.” You scrunch your nose and maybe that was the wrong choice of words.

Jason eyes you carefully and there is something going on with you, too. It’s one thing to have the moral disagreement with Bruce but to actually say anyone’s death in inevitable seems a little off. Jason’s so wrapped in his own anger, he’s started to wonder if he’s missing anything with you.

“Okay seriously, what the fuck is going on?” Jason nudges your leg with his.

“Nothing. I don’t think I really meant it or anything but I kind of wonder if Bruce thinks I’m serious and thinks I’m like a ticking time bomb or something.” You roll your eyes.

“Did he take the shit from you? The suit or anything?” Jason questions and he is getting increasingly more curious what even started that whole conversation and got you mad enough to say anything to Bruce.

“No. Why?”

“Then he doesn’t think you’re gonna out and kill people.” Jason chuckles. “He’d take it away and send you to Leslie if he thought you were serious.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief.” You chuckle softly. “Still don’t wanna go out tonight though.” You shake your head.

Jason pulls his legs to his chest, resting his forearms over his knees. “What started the whole conversation anyway? Did something happen?”

You pause and you hate lying to him. It’s the one thing you really don’t do with him. But, telling him why Bruce even talked to you, that just doesn’t seem fair. You worry he might take Bruce’s concern the wrong way. Maybe it’ll send him spiraling even further. Maybe it’s best if you just keep that to yourself.

“Nothing.” You shake your head. “It’s nothing, really.” You assure him before you suck in a breath. “Seriously though, if you have a problem with me going out, you can tell me.”

The switch back the topic at hand does not go unnoticed and that’s also uncharacteristic of you lately. You tell him everything that bothers you and what leads to it bothering you.

“I said it’s fine.” Jason states. “If something’s going on with you, you’d tell me, right?” Jason questions.

You nod your head. “Of course. Nothing’s, uh, nothing’s going on. You need to stop worrying.” You offer him a cheeky grin and he knows you’re lying. “Look, Jay, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t stand a chance out there. I know it’s hard being benched and I don’t wanna make it harder for you.”

“You said yourself, you like going out there.” Jason bites his tongue.

“Yeah, but if it weren’t for you, I’d never stand a chance. I know it’s hard for you to be benched and I go out. I don’t wanna make it harder for you.”

He knows you’re lying but he can’t figure out why you would lie to him about something like that. It doesn’t seem important or serious enough to need a lie. Maybe a part of him is even hurt you won’t tell him. But, he knows it’s not fair to push because you don’t push him when he’s adamant about not tellin you. He hopes you’ll tell him later when it’s not so fresh.

Jason scoots closer to you, resting a hand on your thigh. “I’m fine, alright? Go out kick and some ass, with or without Bruce.” Jason grins at you. “Stop worrying so much.”

“I’ll always worry, I love you.” You smile wildly at him.

“Yeah, I love you, too.” Jason chuckles softly. “I'm fine, I’ll be back out there in no time.”

“Good, miss you out there with me.”

“I got you, babe.” Jason presses a kiss to your lips. “Spar again, then dinner?”

“Yeah, okay.”

The next day, Jason and you head off the coffee shop to meet up with Molly. It’s colder than it has been. The air is crisp as you walk inside, hands in your jackets. It seems to fit the mood. Your hearts are heavy in your chests, matching your sleep-deprived eyes. Last night was bad.

And Molly is sat at your usual table with a smile.

You think this is good. Maybe hanging out with Molly, the three of you will be a good distraction for him. It’s been only been two weeks, but you know he’s already going stir-crazy. The more you think about it, you're surprised it took him three months in San Francisco to finally break the rules and go out.

“Hey.” You chime.

“Sorry, we’re late, Molly.” Jason takes his jacket off, throwing it over the back of his chair before he sits beside you.

“It’s cool, I ordered for you guys.” Molly states with ease, barely looking up from her laptop. When she does, she has a look at the two of you, Jason specifically. She glances to you before going back to Jason.

He looks more tired than usual lately. But today, he looks exhausted. The bags under his eyes are thick and his grin seems lazier than usual. And she knows you've been more tired lately, too. When you hang out, you nod off and completely space out mid-conversation. You look extra tired today as you lean your head on Jason’s shoulder.

“You look…tired. Are you sleeping?” Molly keeps her eyes on Jason.

You glance to Jason with a heavy heart, last night was rough. He woke up screaming at the top of his lungs. He got you in the face with his elbow. He sputtered apology after apology, nearly throwing himself into a guilt-ridden panic attack over it. It was fine, it was an accident. He was having a nightmare.

You eventually got him to calm down and fall back asleep but that only lasted about two hours before he woke up screaming again. This went on all night. It was bad. No, he’s not sleeping.

“Don’t worry so much.” Jason brushes it off with a smile.

It’s one thing for you to know but he doesn’t want Molly to know even if it’s written on his face that he isn’t sleeping. He still feels guilty and tired and annoyed and angry and frustrated. He swears taking Robin away has made the nightmare worse. Everything feels worse.

“We just had a late movie night.” You state.

“And what about you? You look tired, too.”

“I’m sleeping fine. Jason’s right, don’t worry so much.” You lift your head from Jason’s shoulder.

“What’re you working on?” Jason changes the subject as you lean forward, fully engaging with the topic change.

Molly let’s it rest. It seems weird but it’s the two to you. It’s always a little weird. Your sleep schedules are a mess anyway.

Molly turns the laptop around so Jason and you can see. The screen has a large picture, a missing person's flyer. The sidebar contains others with other missing kids.

“Diego from the shelter went missing.” Molly states, her voice annoyed “Rumor is, The Joker’s got a dude on the streets taking in strays. Diego’s poor and brown so you know the cops don’t give a shit.” Molly shakes her head with a scoff, taking the laptop back.

You feel your blood boiling. That’s the shit you want to do. You want to target those terrible people who are bringing in kids. Kids are innocent. The three of you at this very table were once innocent and you should have been able to stay that way. It was ripped from you and you never want another kid to deal with any of that. That dickhead, has got to fucking go. And who the hell works with the Joker anyway?

“Batman will take care of him.” Jason states, crossing his arms on the table as he leans forward slightly.

You snap your attention at him, narrowing your eyes. “Right.” You nod your head, getting a confused look from Jason.

“Batman protects rich people.” Molly closes the laptop, resting it on the seat beside her. “Be careful, Jason, living in that fake house got you slipping.” Molly crosses her arms. “Should’ve stayed in San Francisco.” There’s a slight bite to Molly’s words.

“Fuck Sam Fransciso.” Jason states. “That whole thing was a mistake. Gotham’s where I need to be.”

“You’ve been different since you’ve been back.” Molly leans forward, she glances to you who raise a brow in confusion

Jason leans back in his seat, brows knitting together. “Different how?”

“I don’t know. Like something happened over it here.” Molly looks to you.

“Nothing happened.” Jason brushes it off coolly. “I was bored, so I left.” You think that’s one way to put it.

“It was boring as shit there. It was nice, but it’s not Gotham.” You back Jason up. This whole thing would be easier if Molly knew the truth. You want to know how everyone can keep up with all the lies.

“Okay.” Molly lets out a breath, not believing either of you. Something definitely happened over there. “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it—“

Jason leans forward, not wanting to deal with the integration. “Where’s this guy who’s picking up the street kids?” There’s a grin that tugs on his lips and you know he’s about to go track the guy down. And you for one, are completely on board.

Molly looks to you who now also looks extremely engaged. She has a bad feeling but she does know. “I heard he’s hanging near a shelter on Dunsmuir.”

“Show us.” Jason states.

He’s not Robin but he still has the same abilities without the suit. He is itching to be out there doing something and Molly has a point. Bruce does look out for the rich. Kids like Diego can get left behind. This is a chance for him to do something. To prove to himself he can do it, even without the Robin suit. He can deal with a lowlife picking up street kids. He could do it in his sleep.

“Yeah, take us.” You match the grin Jason has and Molly finds the whole thing a bit unsettling.

Molly lets out a scoff as she deadpans. “Right. Cause you’re cops now.”

“I’m serious.” Jason urges. “Let’s just go see if he’s there.” Jason's grin is wild and dangerous as he looks to you.

“Come on, let’s go.” You jump in. “It won’t be so bad or anything. Especially if he’s recruiting kids.”

You're worried about Jason but you’ll be together. He’s one lowlife working for the Joker. That’s easy. Jason can just threaten him, get a picture, call it good. Neither of you can sit by and let him do this. Plus, you think Jason might need the pick-me-up.

“And then what?” Molly can’t believe the two of you. You are both completely insane.

“Take some photos. Show them to the cops. It’s worth trying.” Jason states and he’s so convincing.

“It’s better than sitting here talking about it.” You offer. “It’ll be quick anyway.”

Molly glances between the two of you and she can’t help but find some part of this amusing, you share a similar grin. Ones that got her into trouble, ones she knows means you’re both up to no good. Ones she knows she’ll regret listening to. And she knows it’s such a bad idea. You aren’t cops. You have no business finding this guy. But, she knows Diego stands no chance if you don’t at least try.

“Fine.” Molly agrees reluctantly.

You and Jason share a triumphant grin between the two of you. Jason swears this won’t be like Deathstroke. He’ll be on better alert in case there is a team this time and he knows you will, too. You’re going to find a lowlife, not a supervillain. And besides, with Molly there, him and you won’t do anything too reckless to make sure she doesn’t get caught in the crossfire. This will be fine.

The three of you make the walk toward the shelter. Small flurries fall from the sky on your walk. You look around at the snow with a soft smile. You haven’t seen snow in a year and maybe a small part of you missed it. Maybe it feels like home in a weird way.

“How’s Sheila?” You ask, walking between the two of them, your right hand tangled with Jason’s.

“Yeah, no.” Molly scoffs. “She was the wrong one. Might even date boys again.” Molly states.

You let out a laugh. “Seriously that bad? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You're going through some shit.” Molly shrugs. You and Jason have asked about her and Sheila but Molly is the observant friend. The two of you always seem like you have real shit going on. She didn’t want to bother either of you with her relationship problems when, for once, you and Jason seem happy in one. “Broke up yesterday, you didn’t miss much besides screaming and her throwing things.”

“That’s also a lovely breakup.” You give a large nod with the roll of your eyes. You never cared much for Sheila. Sheila was the jealous type.

“Yeah.” Molly scoffs. “It’s cool though.” Molly shrugs.

“Yeah, you deserve someone better anyway. Didn’t she lose her shit on you for being home like five minutes late?” Jason asks, glancing over to her.

“That should have been one of my red flags.” Molly lets out a dry laugh.

“Yeah, maybe.” You agree.

The three of you reach an alley where you see an older man sitting on the hood of his car with a girl standing in front of him who looks way too young to be around him. She has a bottle in a brown paper bag and he looks like he’s a little too friendly with her. You can’t help the way your hand squeezes Jason's as you feel the anger start to bubble in the pit of your stomach. Jason glances to you, squeezing back.

“Over there.” Molly states. “Gotta be him.”

Jason lets go of your hand and pulls out his phone, taking a picture and using the software on his phone to do a check on him. The software runs facial recognition through the system, pulling up his extensive rap sheet. You peek over at the screen, making out a few of the charges and this is the shit that pisses you off.

Why do they keep letting him out? He is very clearly a danger to the public and yet he gets to roam around free, hurting more kids. Now, he gets to work with the damn Joker of all people. He’s got to go.

“Got him?” Molly asks.

“Hold on.” Jason says as it finishes loading. “Name’s Pete Hawkins. Piece of shit’s been in and out of Blackgate. Hooked up with the Joker last year.” Jason explains.

“Another piece of shit they refuse to keep locked up because they don’t actually give a fuck about the general public.” You let out a bitter scoff, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

“How do you know that?” Molly asks, looking between the two of you.

“Told you. I’m still me.” Jason smiles cheekily at her.

“Right. That’s one of those things that sounds real cool, but doesn’t actually mean anything.”

“Means he’s got it covered and he’s good at it.” You smile softly with the shrug of your shoulders.

Jason nudges you with his shoulder. “Let’s go introduce ourselves.” Jason suggests and you knew this was gonna happen. “Just a conversation. That’s all, come on.” Jason takes a step forward as Molly looks to you for help.

“It’ll be fine,” You step forward with Jason. “We’re just gonna talk and that’ll be it. Don’t worry.” You offer a soft smile and you’ve been here before.

You're confident, similar to Jason, this won’t be Deathstroke. This isn’t Dr. Light. This is just some guy. This is your home. This is your city. It won’t be like last time. You swear it won’t be and it can’t be because you have Molly with you. You swear it but you feel the fear creep into your stomach anyway.

The three of you make your way down the alley until you reach this guy. The closer you get, you can hear some of the conversation. He gave her alcohol. And he compliments her smile and tells her he can introduce her to someone that can make her smile. You nearly gag. He doesn’t deserve to be here.

“It never works out like that.” Jason states as the three of you stand in front of them.

“Yeah, it’s all sweet talk until you’re in too deep then it’s anything but sweet.” You add in, your hands warm in your pockets.

There’s a silence that consumes all of you for a few seconds. The man eyes the three of you, not quite confused but annoyed. The girl though, she looks uneasy. She looked uneasy before you approached anyway. And this guy is just gonna let her feel that way. He was going to use it against her.

“Give us a second.” Pete states to the girl. “Keep the drink.” The girl nods her head and walks away, glancing back at all of you on her way down the alley. “We have a problem?” He asks.

“A little young for you isn’t she, hoss?” Jason questions.

Jason also can't stand people like this guy. He was a kid once. He remembers it all. No one was there to protect him and he can protect himself but what about the other kids? That's supposed to be the point of Batman and Robin. To protect those who can't protect themselves. He doesn't need the suit to threaten this guy and try to find out where, at least, Diego is.

“She’s old enough to make her own choices,” He states back.

“Yeah? And exactly how old is old enough then?” You quip back. “Cause, uh, she didn’t look old enough.”

“Do I know you?” He questions, the annoyance soaking his words.

“I’m fuck,” Jason starts. “She's off.” Jason gestures to you. “We hate clowns.”

“Clowns?” Pete asks but there’s a seriousness in his voice.

“You know the type.” You state.

Molly watches the two of you and she’s getting the idea you’ve done this before. That seems a little weird and somehow not even close to surprising. But, she can’t figure out why you would do this? In your free time. Do you and Jason just go around Gotham interrogating people?

“Maybe you ran across a kid?” Jason asks. “Diego.”

“Martinez.” Molly finishes.

Pete shifts just slightly and Jason takes that opportunity to close the distance between them, getting in his face. You watch the two of them carefully, waiting for any quick movements, waiting for the throbbing to start, so you move to stand in front of Molly. You knew it was never going to be just talking and that’s fine with you. That girl was lucky you showed up and he should know he can’t get away with what he’s doing and what he wants to do.

“You know him?” Jason asks.

“You must have me confused with someone else.” Pete says but there’s almost a mocking tone in his voice. Jason stares him down and it goes eerily silent for a few seconds. Pete doesn’t like the look and you're getting the feeling this is going to go south.“You haven’t done enough time to look at me like that.”

“You have no idea who I am.” Jason's voice is low and unwavering, despite the fear pushing at his chest and vibrating his blood like a relentless and agonizing earthquake.

Molly gets the idea this going to turn violent. He’s done time and she knows Jason can fight but maybe not him. So, she moves past you and walks forward, touching Jason’s arm to grab his attention.

“Jason, let’s get out of here.” Molly says as Jason looks at her and as soon he does, a gun cocks.

It’s fast, happening in just a second. The gun is cocked as Jason looks back to Pete who puts the gun right under his chin. He was just waiting for his opportunity. You swear under your breath because for some reason, you thought he’d be fine. He knows better.

“Where’s your swag, cowboy?” Pete asks as you quickly move to Molly, yanking her back and behind you.

Jason freezes, flashes of Deathstroke cross his eyes. The beatings, the pain in his leg is agonizing. It throbs and if he didn’t know better, he’d swear it were bleeding right here, right now. He falls again and again and again. Everything that happened flashes his eyes and he can’t breathe and he can’t move. Why can’t he move? He has no time to react before Pete smacks him across the face with the gun, sending Jason to the ground.

“Jason!” Molly screams, trying to push you to the side.

“You shut your mouth, bitch!” Pete threatens as he aims the gun at her, you keep her blocked, locking eyes with Pete with your mouth in a hard line.

Jason tries to get up but Pete kicks him in the face. Jason starts coughing up blood onto the ground. He’s weak. Why is he weak? He’s fought men three times the size with ease. But Pete kicks him and kicks him and kicks him over and over. In the stomach and the side, over and over again. Jason tries to back away but he’s on the ground and useless.

He was never like this. He was never afraid of everything. It never caused him harm before. If anything, fear managed to protect him. It has always kept him on high alert. It made sure he could be physically and emotionally safe from anyone that would hurt him. But, now, all it's doing is getting him beaten up. It's traumatizing reliving the same damn fear every single day. He's so damn tired of it. He's so sick of being weak. And scared.

Jason rolls on his side where Pete kicks him again and you've had enough. You tried to give Jason a little bit of time to get it together, hoping he'd be able to. But, you can't stand by and hope anymore. You push Molly to the side and move towards Pete.

“Hey, dickhead!” You get his attention, taking a solid swing to his face and then another. “You wanna fucking fight, let’s fucking go.” You have a wild look in your eyes as he points the gun at you, Molly rushing to check on Jason. “Aw, cute! You think I’m scared?” You taunt him, the throbbing in your head intensifies and you move out of the way just as he fires the gun. “Missed me, fuckface.”

You swore you'd never be unprepared again and you pull out a knife from your belt hidden under your coat. In a swift motion, you nail him in the leg. He yells out and shoots again, you already out of the way by the time he fires.

Jason hears the gunshots through the ringing of his ears and he'll never forgive himself if you get shot because he couldn't even get a single punch in. You shouldn't be taking him on, by yourself, just because he couldn't. Because he started it. You're here again. Jason's idea. You in the middle of it.

“What the fuck.” Pete grits his teeth as he pulls the knife out.

“I got more if that’s not enough for you.” You pull out another knife, tossing it between your fingers. “Bet I can nail your jugular in a single shot. Wanna find out?” You question. “If your gun is fully loaded, you have fourteen more shots. So, we can go fourteen more rounds if you want and then I can hit your jugular. I do love target practice.”

Pete grits his teeth, holding the wound and he’s missed two shots already. Whatever you have going on, isn't worth his time right now.

“I’ll see you around.” Pete threatens you before he walks off.

You let out a breath of relief as you rush over to the two on the ground. Jason is still coughing and trying to gain his breath. Molly’s hand is on his shoulder. You can see the bloody gash near his temple and he should have had this. Maybe it’s worse than even you thought it was.

You and Molly help him to his feet, Jason brushing the both of you off. He struggles to gain his footing, the pain in his leg is as bad as it was when Deathstroke cut out the tracker. His entire body is aching with every breath. He’s embarrassed and pissed.

“Look, you’re hurt, we need to get you to a hospital—“ Molly starts once Jason is on his feet.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Jason says, keeping his voice level. It’s not her fault.

“Jay.” You state.

He can't. He can't do it and he doesn't want to.

“Just tell me what I can to help—“ Molly starts.

“Get the fuck away from me, okay?” Jason screams, gesturing his arm in the other direction.

He doesn’t want help. He’s tired of people offering to help. He doesn’t fucking want it. It doesn’t fucking help. Nothing is helping. It’s been months and he’s still paralyzed with fear. Every single time, it seems to be getting better, it just gets worse. He relives it over and over and over. It’s drowning him even when he knows how to swim.

Molly stands for a second, her heart aching being yelled at. Jason doesn’t yell at her. Jason never yells at her. Tears brim in her eyes. She’s just worried about him. He just had a gun pulled at him and got the shit beat out of him. It was terrifying.

You let out a breath and you can tell Molly’s never seen him like this. Of course, she hasn't because she doesn't know. She doesn't know about Robin or Deathstroke. It's one of those times you wish desperately that she did because she'd understand. But, she doesn't and she's going to be the one left confused and hurt.

“It’s okay.” You turn to Molly walking her towards the alley. “It’s fine, okay? I got him.” You nod your head with a weak smile

Molly stares at you in disbelief. You can’t be serious because you were just shot at. How is this fucking fine? Neither of you are fine and Molly is sick of you both trying to fool yourselves and her.

“What the hell was that? With you? He almost shot you!” Molly panics, looking you over just to make sure he missed.

“I’ve been shot at before, it’s fine. Just something I picked up.” Your voice shakes and that’s new.

Your hands are vibrating at your sides and you're realizing, it’s getting a little hard to breathe. But it’s the realization that you have been shot at before. You were left for dead, twice. It all comes back in a wave but you have to push through it. Molly can’t know and Jason needs you. You need to check on him. You can’t panic over it. It happened months ago. And you weren’t the one tortured and kidnapped by CADMUS. It’s not your trauma to process.

“You were what!?”

“Molly, it’s fine. He’ll be fine. Just go home.” You keep your voice calm and pleading.

“He’s hurt.” Molly urges with tears in her eyes.

“He’s fine, okay? I’ll look him over—“

“You’re not a doctor.” Molly grits her teeth.

“I know. I’ll get him to go, okay? Just, head home and I’ll call you. It’s fine. I promise.” You pull her in for a hug before walking back off to Jason who’s pacing and fuming.

Molly pauses for a second before she decides to listen. Jason and you aren’t gonna listen to her anyway.

“You, too!” Jason screams at you.

He doesn’t want your help either. He doesn’t deserve it. The cruel voices are back, louder than ever and echoing through the deepest parts of his chest. They scream and cackle, telling him over and over that he's not good enough. Anyone could have beaten that guy up. Anyone could have taken him and anyone would know he had a gun. Of course, he had a gun. But, Jason's terrified of everything. He's too scared. He's weak and useless and hopeless. 

“No!” You yell back. “I’m not fucking leaving you here like this.”

“Get away!” Jason’s voice cracks as he stands in front of you.

“No! Molly’s right. You’re hurt. We need to get back.” You urge him as you reach for his shoulders.

He can't go back. Bruce is going to be home and he's going to have questions. What if this gets him benched permanently? What if this proves Bruce right? What if Bruce gives up on him entirely?

“No fuck that shit!” Jason brushes you off and he’s so fucking sick of this shit. “Leave me alone!”

“Jason.” You grit your teeth. “What the hell is going on?” You move forward anyway and cup his face, minding the blood.

“Just leave me alone, please.” Jason pleads with you as a lump grows in his throat. He’s so fucking sick of this. He’s so exhausted from feeling this way.

“You know I won’t, Jay.” Your eyes soften as your heart breaks for him.

Jason takes your hands in his. “You fucking should. I’m fucked up. You deserve better anyway. Go the fuck home.”

He’s pushing. Your heart breaks and you're gonna keep fighting. You have a lot of regrets and one of those is not fighting for him sooner. You always should have. You're not gonna repeat that regret. So, you're gonna fight and if he wants to push, he’ll have to try a lot harder than that.

“Jason, don’t do this.” You beg him. “Come home with me, please.”

He shakes his head and he can’t. He’ll pay for it later. He knows he will. He’s gonna push as hard as he possibly can to get you away from him. He doesn’t want you near him. He’s fucked up. He’s useless and weak and a mess. You don’t deserve him. He doesn’t want you coming to his rescue. It’s not your job and it never should be. Jason has always been able to take care of himself alone. This is no different. He doesn’t want your damn help. He doesn’t want it. It’s embarrassing. Humiliating. He loves you but he's in so much pain right now he has to do the one thing he’s always been best at. Pushing.

He’ll regret it.

“No.” Jason huffs. “I’m not going fucking home!” He yells. “Get the fuck out of here. I don’t need you bailing me out! I could have fucking handled it!”

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, your voice cracking. You tug your sleeves down, Jason catching the action.

You haven’t done that in a month around him. He crumbles with the act. He knows pushing hurts you and that’s not fair just because he’s hurt. You don’t deserve it and maybe he’s right. Maybe you really do deserve better. He can’t take it back. He didn’t mean to hurt you. Not on purpose. He can’t take it back and he can’t deal with it all. He can’t deal with more guilt and pain and disappointment.

“Just leave me the fuck alone, alright?” Jason scoffs and he walks past you, knowing you’ll never leave. You don’t have it in you to walk away. So, he does.

He knows you’ll get him to break if he stays. You've always been good at getting him to calm down and be reasonable. But that’s not what he wants to be right now. He almost wants to be angry about it. He just wants to be alone, away from every person he’s disappointed and that includes you.

You watch him walk away as tears brim your eyes. You were making progress and now you’re back here. What is so different than before? You've had to bail him out before this and it wasn’t this bad. He didn’t push like this. And you realize the difference is Robin, the difference is always Robin.

At least when he was Robin, he had that to fall back on. He could chalk up his freezing to still being able to be Robin later. He’d have a second shot at it. He’d get a third shot. He was still Robin but Bruce benched him and now he’s getting his ass kicked by some nobody trafficking kids to the Joker. He has nothing left to fall back on. Every horrible thought he ever had about himself has become true today. He is useless. He is weak. He is not good enough. And you hate that he even feels that way.

But you can’t follow him because then you’ll just fight and that’s not something you want to do. He doesn’t need to feel worse over an argument with you. So, you let him walk away and you make your way down the alley.

You head back to the cafe where your bike is parked and you decide to hang out for half an hour, hoping Jason will come back. You can go back to the manor together and make sure he’s actually okay but as the time ticks by, there’s no sign of him and he’s not answering his phone. Jason is really good at pushing.

Jason looks at his phone and it's cold. It's snowing. You should just go home but he knows you're definitely still waiting for him. But, he's not even close to being ready to talk or cool down.

Jason: go home be back later I’m fine

Jason looks at his phone, watching the bubble show up. He’s still so angry with himself for all of it. He can’t even look you in the eyes right now. He doesn’t want to do anything. He just wants to be alone. But you worry. It’s been half an hour and at the very least, he can text you that he’s fine.

Y/n 😍: I don’t want to go back without you

Jason’s heart sinks as he reads the text. He hesitates over the keyboard. He almost types out “too bad” but he can't bring himself to type it out. It'll be even worse if it does.

Jason: you have to get ready for patrol tonight anyway stop worrying

Jason shuts his phone off as soon as the text sends. He simply can't. He knows he just fucked up your whole relationship. It’s been two weeks and he just fucked it all up. He’s not good enough anyway. It doesn’t matter. And yet it breaks his heart in two.

All he wants is to be Robin and be good enough again. He doesn't want to be so tired anymore. He's tired of it all. The nightmares and shaking hands. He's tired of the leg pain and the headaches and the nausea and racing heartbeat that makes him feel like he's going to pass out. He's tired of disappointing everyone and letting them down and not being good enough. He's tired of being weak. 

You let out a sigh, texting him back saying you don't have to go but the read receipt doesn't come through. You want to give him some more time to come around before you head back. So, you get on your bike and decide to head to Excellent Gotham. You always like it there anyway and it’ll be warm. And Jason knows that. If he wants to come around, he'll know where to find you.

You open the take-out container of your food once you're seated at your favorite table against the back wall. You try to eat while you scroll on your phone. Gar posted a new picture of him with Conner and Krypto at a park. Dick and Kory are seated at a picnic table behind them. A smile tugs at your lips as you double-tap the picture and pull up the comments.

You: @dickgrayson @koriandr look real cozy in the background 👀

You send the comment, mostly to harass Dick. You can’t do it in person, but you can do it through social media. It is something that can cheer you up usually. And you smile softly, remembering when Kory told you and Gar how Donna was the one that showed her how to work Instagram and helped her set up her account. You miss all of them.

@dickgrayson: we were talking?

You: wE wErE tAlKiNg 🥴

@garlogan: they’re always “talking”

You:“talking” is the first stage @dickgrayson “don’t do anything…graphic”

@garlogan: 😂🤮

@dickgrayson: NOT FUNNY

@garlogan: yes it is

You: you said it first 😂 sorry @koriandr ily 💕

You laugh softly to yourself. You'll never miss an opportunity to bug him. You scroll through a few more photos until your attention is pulled from your phone when someone sits down in front of you.

“Hey.” Tim chimes. “You here alone?”

“Uh…yeah.” You shake your head. “Why?”

Every time you come here and Tim is here, you have a conversation about anything, really. This isn’t too weird of an exchange but you find it odd anyway for him to ask.

“You never come here alone anymore. Jason and Molly are always with you.” Tim gestures with his hand. “Everything okay?”

Tim is observant. He notices and remembers everything about everything and everybody. Before you left, you’d come in alone but since you started showing up again, you're always with Molly or Jason. Tim hasn’t seen you alone at all since. He notices you tugging your sleeves down when you order and the fact you always sit with your back up against a wall, looking out over the entire restaurant, something he doesn’t ever remember you doing. You’ve had enough conversations over the years that he considers you friends, friends enough to ask anyway.

“All good.” You shrug your shoulders, brushing it off.

Tim sighs. “My dad said you seemed down.” It’s not a lie. Mr. Drake did say that but Tim noticed anyway.

You laugh softly, nodding your head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure? You can tell me if you want. I know we don’t know each other that well, but might help. Then I don’t have to run a delivery.” Tim chuckles.

He’s always so warm. You don’t think you've ever seen Tim seem down, annoyed but not down. He’s always excited to talk about whatever new thing has been picking at his mind. He was one of the people that told you he suspected there was a new Robin. Batman and the crazy maniacs of Gotham were a topic of discussion on occasion. And boy could he ramble about it. But, you always felt like you could trust him.

He doesn’t really know Jason. He kind of knows Molly but it was you and Tim that had the most conversation. He doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know what happened to you or where you were and what happened. He doesn’t know any of it. And you find that a bit comforting. You trust him enough to at least talk a little bit because having to not tell anyone anything because everyone you know knows Jason is really difficult sometimes.

“Just, uh, some shit is going on and I, uh, can’t tell anyone about most of it.” You shake your head. “Me and Jason got into a fight and uh, I don’t know. He pushes sometimes. It’s fine, ya know? I get it but it, uh, it sucks anyway.” You chew the inside of your cheek.

Tim furrows his brows. “So, he gets mad and pushes you away? That’s not fair to you.” He lazily points a finger at you.

“Yeah, but he has shit going on.” You defend.

“That’s not an excuse.” Tim scoffs. “He seems cool. I don’t know him. I’m just saying, no one deserves to be pushed just because someone’s going through shit.”

“Well, he’s not an asshole to me. And I do the same shit so, ya know?”

“Well, I still think he shouldn’t do it." Tim states casually. "Why’s he do it anyway?“ Tim asks and you raise a brow at him. "I'm just saying, you're together so why's he still pushing you away?"

“I’m so serious, if you ever bring this up, I’ll kill you.” You threaten softly and Tim nods, gesturing for you to contiue. “Everyone gives up on him and I just…don’t? I’m like the only person who hasn’t and I’m not going to. I don’t even know why people do. He’s an ass sometimes and he’s all bark and bite. But, I don’t get it anyway, right? Because when you give a fuck about someone you don’t just give up cause shit gets hard. Or they fuck up. But it’s like he’s so damn used to it that when I simply don’t give up, he freaks out a little more when shit, like today, happens.” You state, keeping it a bit vague on the actual events.

Tim nods his head and he agrees. He believes in second chances. He doesn’t think people should just give up on people. He’s fucked up several times and his parents don’t give up on him. They were not happy about him dropping out but they’re not giving up on him. He doesn’t know what happened and he highly doubts you're gonna be less vague if he asks. But, he also knows some things you definitely don’t know he knows.

Tim knows. He knows Jason is Robin. Dick was Robin. Bruce is Batman. He knows you're Bluejay, a vigilante name the Gothamites have given you all because of your blue suit and you patrol with Batman. You do not talk about the irony in it. At least it's a little better than Acid Fingers. But, Tim is very observant. With a photographic memory.

Dick is one of two people in the world who can perform a specific flip and Robin 1.0 and Nightwing can also perform that trick which means Bruce Wayne is Batman. Jason was adopted by Bruce after Robin 1.0 left which means Jason has to be Robin 2.0, on top of the fact Tim remembers seeing videos and him and Robin 2.0 walk the same way. They share the same stride and confidence. And that’s how he figured out you're Bluejay.

The way you walk, how you hold yourself. You're living with Bruce Wayne, dating Jason Todd. It’s all pretty obvious to him in all fairness. So, he is kind of guessing whatever is going on has something to do with the vigilante life and that’s not something he can so much help with. But, he can try.

“Do you want my advice?” Tim asks.

“Sure?” You question.

“You said he pushes so, have you tried…letting him?”

“The point is that I don’t? So, I’m not like everyone else and I don't give up on people very much.”

“Yeah, but, you not letting him doesn’t work with whatever is going on, right?”

“I guess?”

“So, let him. And he’ll come back, right? Be there when he comes back. You said, it’s what he does. So, maybe you,” Tim gestures towards you as he leans back in his seat. “Being there all the time is suffocating him.” Tim states casually. “You could give him the space and when he comes around, be there like you normally would. Maybe he just needs the space, right?”

“I--” You pause and that’s kind of a good point you haven’t thought of. “I…yeah, actually that kind of makes sense. I just…worry about him. If you knew, you’d know why, ya know?”

“So, tell him you’ll give him space or whatever but he has to check in and tell you he’s fine so you’re not worried.”

You groan, putting your head on the table for a second before picking it back up again. “That’s actually a good idea. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It’s easier from the outside sometimes.” Tim chuckles awkwardly.

“Thanks, Tim. I will try that.” You nod softly.

“You're welcome.” Tim smiles warmly. "So, you decided to just come here because you had a fight and wait for him to come around?"

“Oh, you really don’t want to work. Don’t you have like schoolwork to do or something?” You quip with a grin tugging at your lips.

“I dropped out.” Tim shifts in his seat slightly.

“Why? Aren’t you like a genius?”

Tim shrugs casually. “I mean not...”

“He does our books.” Mr. Drake calls from the counter making you laugh.

“Genius.” You state with a nod.

“Kind of.” Tim rolls his shoulders.

“I just, uh, I always liked it here. Your family is always here, and always felt real warm. And, uh, ya know? Been a while since I felt that so. Like, whole family dynamic thing.” You nod your head.

“Oh, well, in that case, you can run my deliveries. Really feel the warmth of a family then.” Tim nods twice with a toothy grin, glancing to his dad.

“No, I’m good.” You laugh. “That’s all you, Timmy.” You scrunch your nose. “Thanks, though, seriously.”

“Hey, we’re friends, right?” Tim shrugs casually.

“Yeah, I guess.” You shake your head. “Coming in here enough over the years, I guess so.” You smile softly. “Seriously, thank you. And also, I’m serious, don’t tell anyone. We don’t normally like when people know our shit.”

“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.” Tim chuckles.

“Well, I’m gonna head back to the manor. Give him space like you said. I’ll be back probably tomorrow.” You laugh as you get up.

“Oh, well, I’ll be here.” Tim states with wide eyes. “They won’t let me leave.” He whispers.

“So, go to school.” You mock him as Tim groans.

“Yeah, alright, be safe.” Tim chuckles.

“Yeah, too. All those delivers and such.” You offer him a thumbs-up before you head out of the restaurant.

The night goes by and you don’t go on patrol. You want to be here when Jason gets home and being out with Bruce just seems like it’ll make you more annoyed tonight. It’s his fault today happened anyway. So, you stay home and listen to Tim, giving Jason some space for the night.

Jason texts you here and there saying he’s still fine because he’s not throwing in the towel. The later the night gets, the more texts come through from him. He’s calmer as the night goes on and his anger is fading away. He apologizes a few more times and he wonders how he’s ever going to come back from what he said to you and Molly. Neither of you deserve it. You were just worried about him.

At some point, Jason stopped receiving texts from you and figured that was his cue to head back home. It’s two in the morning and he has to guess you fell asleep. He thinks it’s safe to go home and get to bed. He won’t have to talk about it when he gets home. He can just try to get at least some sleep.

When he gets home, Bruce is still out on patrol. The manor is completely quiet and he goes right to your room, just to check on you before he heads to his own bed. But, when he looks into your room, the bed is still made and you aren’t there. His heart plummets because he thinks he really blew it. He’s so sure you left. Maybe you're staying with Molly. Maybe you're just waiting for him to calm down before you break it off entirely. You're done and it’s all his fault.

Maybe you were only texting him back so you wouldn’t feel guilty if he did something stupid. He’s not sure, but he really thinks he messed things up with you this time.

Jason feels tears brim his eyes as he shuts the door. His head hangs as the lump grows further into his throat as he walks to his room. He did what he always does, push until someone gives up. He really, in the pit of his stomach, didn’t think you ever would. And he doesn’t even blame you. He just feels guilty and hurt for everything in the first place. He just keeps fucking it all up.

When he reaches the door of his room, his arm is weak as it creaks open but his attention snaps to the TV that’s on. There isn’t anything playing, it’s just the screensaver but it’s on and there’s an automatic shut off which means he didn’t leave it on. He looks in the opposite direction towards his bed where you're sleeping.

Jason sucks in a breath of relief at the sight of you. You didn’t give up. You didn’t leave. You waited for him in his room because you knew he would be avoiding talking and probably you when he got back if you were awake. And his heart swells. He doesn’t deserve you. But, he walks closer to the bed anyway and strips to his boxers before crawling into bed with you and wrapping his arms around you. He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

You hum from in front of him, your back pressed against his chest. “Jay?” Your voice is groggy as you tiredly look over your shoulder.

“Yeah.” Jason whispers softly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay.” You smile softly, rolling around his arms to face him, your eyes barely open as you look up at him. The bruise from the day is hidden against the pillow and the low light of the bedroom. “Glad you’re home.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Jason states and you barely make out the guilt across his face.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk in the morning.” You snuggle against his chest. Truthfully, you're just glad he's home and he's safe. One bad day doesn't destroy everything you've built. “Not mad, just tired. Get some sleep, Jay. It’s just you and me.” You press a kiss to his chest, feeling Jason relax against you.

“I love you.” Jason mutters against the top of your head.

“I love you, too.” You smile softly against him.

Jason squeezes you softly against him and he doesn’t know why he’s still lucky to have you. His life is shit besides you and you pick him anyway. You should leave him and he knows you should. He was wrong for speaking to you that way and for pushing so damn hard. But you don’t. You're here anyway for reasons he’ll never understand. But he is immensely thankful you're still here. With him.

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Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”

"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

I found these the other day and just had to show you because- oh my god how does this man even exist??

Gotta admit that I'm a fan of the second pic, this Jason is my favorite brat ngl

As requested, I have examined my fondness for terrible characters, and I have concluded that I like them because they're terrible and I'm not sorry.