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demonic0angel · 1 year

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Chapter 1 of somehow whatever's eternal in me knows whatever's eternal in you

A figure staggered within the darkness, groaning. Dressed in a muddied suit and holding bloodied hands to himself, he looked like a drunk and messy young man that had crashed a wedding and gotten into a fight.

Or perhaps, more accurately, a boy that just dug out of his own grave.

The figure wobbled a few more steps before he collapsed upon the ground. Just a few steps ahead, the shadows opened and a tall figure walked out of it, gloom still clinging onto their form. The taller person, distinctly dressed in sharp fashion with a feminine silhouette, paused at seeing the body on the ground before coming closer, the sound of heels echoing in the night.

The woman stopped at the head of the unconscious figure. Then gently, she bent down and attempted to haul him up with a hand around his wrist.

She clicked her tongue when she felt his weight. Then she shifted and the unconscious figure was cradled within her arms.

Anyone seeing this scene would've felt like they were watching something from a thriller.

The woman was abnormally tall and in the darkness, it looked like it was kidnapping. The unconscious figure's legs swung at her elbows.

The shadows curled around her ankles and shoulders, tendrils curiously exploring the person in its master's arms. Her hair, faint in the deep night, looked like blood dripping onto the ground.

The woman hummed in contemplation and then she sank into the shadows.

A car drove by. If it had been faster, the people inside would've caught a glimpse of the woman leaving or maybe even saved the boy themselves. Instead, they continued to drive peacefully, their lives unaffected by what could've been.

The night was still once more, without a single soul.

————

Jason didn't know when he woke up. One moment, it had seemed as though all he felt was pain and loss and loneliness, and then the next, he found himself sitting at a dinner table with a beautiful girl setting a plate of roast vegetables and a beef broth in front of him.

"Jazz?" He slurred. The girl, with the name Jazz floating somewhere in his brain, paused and tilted her head. Her hair was a beautiful red, even darker and richer than Barbara's but only a shade or two lighter than Aunt Kate's. It drew his eyes towards her, making him unable to look away as his vision blurred in and out of focus.

Wait, who was Barbara? Or Aunt Kate in the first place?

"Welcome back. Are you ready to tell me your name now?" She asked. Her voice sounded like it was meant to be used sweetly but it was instead completely and utterly dead without intonation.

"... Jason," he murmured, as a heavy fog began to set in his mind.

Without a warning, he was pulled back under into the fog.

He woke up again to the tall girl speaking with a collection of people. To him, they looked like green blobs. Before he could even say anything, he sank back into darkness.

The next time he snapped to awareness, the girl, Jazz, was tipping a cup of lightly glowing green water into his mouth. He choked on it as alarm finally struck him, the taste of something sweet and carbonated making his tastebuds tingle.

Ruthlessly, Jazz's hand shot out like an arrow and pinched his nose, forcing him to swallow all of it. He gagged with the taste of some sort of bizarre energy drink sliding down his throat. He coughed as a handkerchief wiped the corner of his lips.

He looked at Jazz pitifully, unable to muster resentment as he stared at her face and all he felt was gratitude and affection.

But why?

Jason couldn't answer this question.

"Jazz?" He croaked. "What was that?"

The fog in his brain did not creep up on him, as his eyes adjusted to sudden alertness. It was as if he was sunken underwater and then suddenly, he was brought to air, to bright sunlight and warm winds. He felt better than he had ever felt before.

"That was diluted ectoplasm. I figured since you already died once, ectoplasm wouldn't have a negative effect on your recovery and I was right. The introduction of ectoplasm to your body system seems to have a positive influence."

Something about what she said didn't sound right.

"I died?"

"Yes." She stood up, towering over him for a moment as she reached to pick up a pen and clipboard on the other side of the medical cot. "What do you remember?"

"I-I... I know your name somehow... my name is... Jason? Jason. Jason Todd. I don't think I should be telling you this for some reason."

She hummed.

"What do you know about Gotham?"

"That's where I lived." He blurted before he reached up to rub at his head, where a headache was beginning to build.

Jazz wrote something on a clipboard.

"I see that memories are still escaping you. Just one more thing. What do you remember about your death?"

The room descended into silence.

Jason's breath quickened as his heart raced. He couldn't remember. Was it because he couldn't? Or because he didn't want to? Something about the memory scared him, carving the hole inside of him deeper and deeper until he was scratching at the skin of his hands, unable to resist the feeling of suffocation, of feeling like his skin was too tight for his body and he was going to explode into little pieces if he didn't escape.

Calloused hands wrapped around his wrists and he flinched as he looked up.

Jazz's aqua green eyes stared at him cooly. From what he had seen, her expression had never even changed. It was a blank canvas of porcelain beauty. She was young too, a teenager, like him.

Jason gulped and flushed at the weight of her gaze.

"Calm down." She said, her thumbs brushing over the side of his wrists before she pulled away. "I apologize for the fright. Are you hungry?"

Jason nodded silently, embarrassed by his outburst. Jazz stood up again and put the pen and clipboard away before she reached over to help Jason to his feet. Awkward at the fact that he had to accept her help, he pushed her hands away and walked on his own.

Her eyes widened just a tad in surprise, making Jason preen before she turned and began walking, gesturing for him to follow. Jason looked at his surroundings as he followed behind her silently.

They were inside of a large but abandoned warehouse, which was filled with towers and shelves of boxes. There was no sounds of other people, only the two of them.

Jason spent a moment just staring at Jazz's tall back before he had to look away, his cheeks warming.

Ah, no wonder he felt nothing but adoration for her.

The fog came back and took him under once more.

The next time he left the fog, he was lying on a mattress as Jazz read to him. They were in the corner of the warehouse, with Jason's mattress pushed against the wall. When he exhaled and then sat up, she stopped reading and turned to look at him.

"Back again?" She closed the book.

It was 'The Little Prince', by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

Jason groaned. "When will this end?! I— I can't seem to stay awake." He tried to lower his voice at the end, ashamed of the fact that he raised it in the first place in front of her.

Jazz blinked slowly. "Recovery will be slow. Your body is recovering from atrophy and your mind and soul is recovering from death. You will get better."

Jason clutched at the thick blankets that pooled at his legs.

"Why... Why are you helping me?"

Jazz blinked again and then turned towards the open area in front of them, staring into space in thought. "I... don't know. I saw you on the ground and I just wanted to help you." She turned back to him and looked into his eyes.Jason blushed.

God, she was so pretty.

"What do you want to do?" 'With me? In life? In general?' Went unspoken.

"I am going to take over Gotham City," she said. "I need the city for reasons I won't tell you. You don't need to help me. Just don't stop me."

Jason was pulled under again before he could answer.

When he awake again, his mind felt clear than ever. He gave a soft, "Hi," to Jazz, who sat against the wall with a laptop in her lap. She clicked on a few keys before she answered without turning.

"Hello, Jason. How do you feel?"

"Surprisingly, great." He stretched and smiled at her. She was now watching him with keen eyes and it made him blush a little. She tilted her head and then nodded, closing her laptop.

"Jason, what would you like to do after you recover?"

Jason stared. "What?"

"I have funds, but I can acquire more if you need it if you have a specific goal in mind. You were a billionaire's son before you died. Tell me and I'll help you."

Jason blinked and thought to himself briefly before he spoke. "I don't... I don't remember my past life. Everything is still blurry to me. I— I'd like to stay with you until then. Will that be allowed?"

Jazz's shoulders slumped for a moment and Jason was happy to see that it was from relief.

Did she also grow to like him from their time spent together?

"Alright," she said. "Recovering will take at least four years. I will help you in every way I can. In return, you will offer me any information you know and not stand in my way, understand? I know that your home was Gotham but I need that city."

Even without the pleading tone in her voice, he probably would've done it anyways.

"Of course," he said, nodding firmly as he gave her a smile when she turned to look at him. "I will support your goals no matter what."

She gave a sweet, sad smile, the first emotion he saw from her. It made her look young and cute, less like a carved marble statue and more like the young girl he expected. "I sure hope so."

For the next few months, Jason trained under Jazz as his memory slowly returned to him.

Both surprisingly and unsurprisingly, she had allies that could help him. He was pleased that they were able to teach him. He was bewildered because none of them were alive. She had answered nearly all of his questions when he asked, of course, which also surprised him because he had expected secrets from her.

For example, her shadows were sentient. They were some sort of ectoplasm-using spirit creature she formed a contract with. In exchange for power and servitude, she offered energy from her own reserves as well as any sacrifices the spirit needed.

She also explained what the fuck ectoplasm was.

"Ectoplasm is a substance that makes up all ghosts, or ecto-entities, as the government would say," she had sneered at this, "It has resurrective qualities and radioactive properties that are beneficial for all existences that are touched by death."

"And I'm touched by death?"

"You've been dead, Jason. You've been touched and consumed by death but now you're regurgitated and reborn. That has consequences." She had said, patient as ever.

Because of Jazz's interventions, his healing came quickly. She taught him about ghosts and everything that existed within the Infinite Realms.

Her allies were all beings from the Ghost Zone and they were happy to train him at Jazz's request.

There were a few that refused to meet him, but for the most part, he had a multitude of tutors in the form of ghosts. Sometimes, they would "overshadow" him and the knowledge of what they wanted him to learn would come naturally. Other times, they would teach him without the usage of their powers and Jason could almost pretend that he was in the Batcave, with its echoing words and cold temperatures, and not with ghosts.

He didn't see Jazz very often. It was something he absolutely despised. She was usually away and if Jason ever asked, she would answer that she was making plans for the future. Of course, she was always purposefully vague but she never ignored him or left his questions unanswered. It was a habit of hers that reminded him of Batman. It made him nostalgic and annoyed all over but because it was Jazz doing it, he just found it mostly endearing.

In the meantime, he trained with ghosts and learned anything that Batman hadn't taught him.

Batman.

The Knight of Gotham.

Bruce Wayne.

The Prince of Gotham.

Dad.

Jason had perhaps the biggest and most embarrassing meltdown in existence when he recovered the memory of Bruce Wayne, Batman, being his dad, especially when he soon gained the memory of his death too. He had cried and screamed when he remembered how Joker had tortured him with a crowbar, when he remembered the betrayal of his birthmother, when he remembered the pain and the tears and the damnable hope—

Jazz had held him throughout it all. Had held him while he begged the heavens for answers, for why he was still alive, for why the Joker had killed him, and for why Bruce never came back for him.

Even when he had pushed her away, she held no grudge against him.

Instead, she had quietly reassured him that he was strong for surviving, that he deserved to be saved, and that he was cared for and cherished.

It was like she was reaching inside of him and plucking the strings of his heart.

Jazz was radiant. Like the sun compared to the street rat that was Jason.

Sometimes, it bewildered him how the shadows heeded her call and obeyed her like she was one of them when to him, it just made so much more sense if she had the ability to control light and warmth instead.

Despite her cool demeanor, she was gentle and kind. She, despite now being called a supervillain by the media and populace, was a better person than Jason had ever been as Robin.

Sometimes, he imagined what it would've been like before he had died and if they had met during that time.

Jason could only dream. He probably would've skipped patrols and faced Batman's wrath for leaving behind his post to flirt with Jazz.

He smiled at the thought but then frowned again.

Bruce. His dad.

Why didn't he come back for him?

How come someone like Jazz found him on accident while his dad was still out there, oblivious to the fact that his son was still alive?

Didn't he visit his parents' graves every week? How come he didn't know Jason was still alive? It had been months.

He bit his lip.

Whatever.

Jason shook his head to get rid of his thoughts and refocused on going through his sets of sword moves. He paused when he sensed eyes on him, but the tingle of ectoplasm didn't cause goosebumps on his skin. He turned, and stared at a woman with caramel skin and dark hair. She stared at him back, with an expression like she hadn't expected him to react.

"What the fuck?" He said.

"Language." She scolded and then began to walk closer to him.

Jason immediately swung his sword and snarled when he saw how expertly she dodged. "How'd you get in here?! What did you do?!"

Jazz had told him that the warehouse was located somewhere in California. She got to the other side of the US through her shadows, and so she has reassured him with the usage of technology and ghost powers, that he was safe.

Clearly, whatever this random woman had done, she had the ability to bypass the security.

The woman paused. "Jason, how are you alive? Does Bruce know?"

"What are you talking about?" He hesitated at the mention of Bruce's name and she took the opportunity to dart forward and then knock the sword out of his hand, a sleek dagger pressing itself against Jason's throat. Jason froze.

He had been careless.

It seemed as though Bruce would remain one of his weaknesses.

The woman used her other hand to pat his cheek and touch his hair. He grimaced and resisted the urge to bite into her palm as she fingered the white strand of hair on his head. Apparently, when Jazz had been healing him with ectoplasm, it had grown in overnight. She could only explain it by saying that she knew others who received the same experience of growing white hair after accidents involving ectoplasm.

The point was, that hair strand had come from ectoplasm and it was also something that came from Jazz and he hated anyone touching it.

"Hands off of me." He finally had enough and slapped the hand away.

He moved backwards, wary and very, very careful. He could sense no other presence but that didn't mean anything. If this woman had gotten this far within the warehouse, who knew who else could've followed her inside?

The woman sighed and looked at him mournfully with emerald eyes. "Oh, Jason. How were you resurrected?"

"How do you know my name?!"

She smiled a little. "My name is Talia al Ghul. And Batman and I are meant to be."

He stared at her, taking another wary step back. "You're delusional."

She frowned.

Jason took another step back and asked, "How did you get in here?"

"We've been keeping an eye on you for awhile now. When we found that your grave was disturbed, we sought to find out who did it. To think that it could've been you yourself... how are you alive?"

He snarled, glancing at his sword that laid on the ground some distance away. "None of your business."

Goosebumps suddenly rose from his skin as the surface beneath his feet became soft for just a moment. In an instant, he knew that Jazz had come, and he straightened, just as he felt a hand slide onto his shoulder. He resisted the urge to look behind him.

He knew who it was.

"Hello. What is your business here?"

Talia was silent, her expression sullen and frustrated before she bowed, a small motion with no real respect behind it. Jason grit his teeth and resisted the urge to berate her.

"Greetings. I am Talia al Ghul and I had received news of Jason Todd's revival a few weeks ago. I tracked him down here, to meet him. Were you the one who resurrected him?"

"No," Jazz answered. "I only helped him recover his memories."

"Hm. Does Bruce know about this?"

Jason glared at Talia. "Why does he need to know?"

"He's your father, isn't he?" She put her hands on her hips. "He deserves to know."

"Fuck you." Jason snapped. He clenched his fists. How dare she act as if she knew the relationship between them? As if she had a hand in how Jason would approach Bruce? As if she could control him and what he did?

"Jason," Jazz said, and her voice immediately snapped him out of his rage. He calmed, taking a deep breath and letting the hand on his shoulder ground him firmly. Her shadows curled around his ankles, a comforting shackle.

He didn't want Jazz to think less of him.

So he shut up as Jazz started to talk. "If that's all, please leave. Jason doesn't wish to meet Bruce and that is all. Respect his wishes."

Talia hummed, crossing her arms as she rested a finger on her lips. Then she said carefully, "How about I take Jason off your hands?"

Jason froze. "What?" Then he processed the words and then snarled. "What?!"

Talia continued, "I want to help him. If you allow me to take him, I will train him to the best of my abilities. You saved him for a reason, no? I can bring him back to you, in one piece, unharmed and taught."

Jazz only said, "It will be Jason's decision. And frankly, I don't trust you. I don't even know you. You came into this warehouse and demanded Jason. How do I know you're not lying?"

"Because I love Bruce. And I wouldn't purposefully hurt one of his children. I will do whatever it takes for Jason's fullest potential." Talia argued.

Jason felt like he was vibrating out of his skin. Immediately, he said, "No. I'm not going."

Talia frowned. "You don't want to learn?

"I have no need for training from a woman I don't even know or trust." He snapped.

"If you come with me, you will grow more powerful. Someone who can stand by that girl's side. You love her, don't you?" Talia gestured to Jazz. "If you come and train with me, I guarantee that you will be able to fight alongside her."

Both Jazz and Jason stiffened in unison.

Then Jazz said firmly, "Jason, you don't have to do it for me."

Cheeks growing warm, Jason pushed through the feeling of humiliation from being outed from his crush and then said, "I still don't trust you."

"Then what would make you trust me? Believe me when I say that I just want to help."

Jazz spoke up. "Promise me by the name of the Ancients. If they approve, I'll allow Jason's training."

Jason glowered as Talia was lead through making some sort of verbal binding vow by Jazz.

"I swear, by the name and power of the Ancients, that I will guide and teach Jason Peter Todd to the best of my abilities and the goodness of my heart. May my afterlife and future be condemned if I ever break this promise."

With that, Jazz seemed satisfied and both women turned to look at him for his answer.

Jason looked down at the ground and then nodded.

After that, Jason was instructed to pack up, because he'd be leaving right away. A small part of him wanted Jazz to ask him to stay, to ask him to not leave her but she didn't say a word as she packed his belongings into a suitcase.

There were little belongings that he possessed, but all of them had come from Jazz. She sat there, on the floor, as she folded his clothes and Jason ached with the force of his need to stay with her, to hold her hand and look her in the eyes, and confess his feelings for her. But he couldn't.

Not while she still had things to do.

She didn’t need distractions from someone like him. He saw how she was starting to help Gotham. She was doing good. Whatever she needed to do, he would only hinder her if he was at where he was right now.

He bit back the protests he had about leaving because he liked the thought of becoming stronger, strong enough to help Jazz achieve her goal. After all, he did want to do this. Just not away from her.

She still hadn't said a word about Talia's admittance of his crush on her and he had not denied it.

He shoved his books into the suitcase and met her gaze when she set her hand on top of his.

"What about your socks? You won't have room."

"You can keep them. You like them because they're warmer, no?" He asked, not needing an answer to an obvious question. Her fingers and feet went colder than normal. He was the opposite, having always had a warm body and a hot temperature.

The two of them were suited for each other, he thought longingly.

She chewed on her bottom lip and he looked away, unable to handle the look on her face, unless he wanted to start hoping.

"Jason," she said finally, "come back to me safely. If anything happens... I want to know, so I can help."

"Of course," he replied instantly as he turned back to face her and his breath caught in his lungs as she leaned forward and placed a short kiss on his cheek. She pulled back and smiled shyly, a rare display of emotion as she fidgeted with the ends of her hair. Her shadow formed a heart behind her, almost making him laugh.

Jason flushed, cheeks warm and chest tight with all sorts of butterflies and worms all wriggling into his heart to burrow their way into his feelings.

"I'll wait for you." She said, and Jason almost burst into an explosion of confetti and love confessions.

"Okay," he said dumbly.

That would be the last time they spoke before Talia would whisk him away.

————

Training was hard.

The League of Shadows were brutal and deadly, and although they didn't treat him any less because of his age or background, they almost seemed crueler when they were reminded of the fact that Talia had been the one to bring him to the League.

When Jason had the time to stop training and had the chance to use the internet, he would sometimes see Jazz on the news, where she could be seen escaping the cameras after decimating gangs and getting rid of corrupt officials. Sometimes, he would catch her on Blüdhaven news channels too, where he would see her jump over the rooftops of Gotham's sister city and away from Nightwing, though that was rare because she almost never crossed the border of Gotham's city to another.

All of the news channels and papers didn't know what to think of her, especially because she was way more open in front of interviewers and cameras than Batman. Thousands of news titles crossed Jason's feed every time he tried searching up anything about Gotham.

'Mysterious Redhead Takes Down Gotham Drug Cartel! Not One of Batman's?'

'Exclusive Interview with Commissioner Gordon: RedHead Vigilante is Not One of Us!'

'Black Mask, Scarecrow, Bane: Captured By Redhead!'

Thank goodness for the fact that ectoplasm corrupted footage and audio. Otherwise, Jason would've had many heart attacks from the possible identity reveals alone, especially because she never wore a mask.

Jason was sure that Bruce was ripping his hair out to try and discover who Jazz was. Jason knew that the new Robin would help Batman, but he wondered if Dick was going to help him look into it, or if he still hadn't reconciled with Bruce.

He... kind of missed Dick, despite how distant he had been sometimes.

He deeply mourned the loss of what could've been a brotherly relationship and felt bitterly jealous over the new Robin, but he didn't focus on his feelings. He trained with swords and weapons that Batman had never taught him and although he faced assassination attempts every week, it was worth it.

He didn't need to be Batman's son, or Robin.

He would just be himself and try to help Jazz as much as he could, just like she had helped him.

Talia taught him to the best of her abilities and when he successfully completed all of her lessons, she brought him to the All-Caste under her recommendation. While she was kind, she certainly wasn't gentle and also wasn't afraid to break a few bones to make him learn his lesson. Ducra, the leader of the All-Caste, was even worse, but thankfully, it didn't feel like straight up abuse and his suffering was beginning to feel worth it.

He felt like everything had been going well at the League of Shadows, especially because he was progressing quickly under Talia and Ducra's tutelage.

But everything changed when Ra's al Ghul pushed him into the Lazarus Pits in some sort of misguided attempt to heal him from death or even possible assassination.

Death would've been kinder.

Torture would've been wanted.

Even rejection from Batman and Jazz would've been more gentle than the pain that tore through his limbs and bones, that broke him down and recreated him, that changed him.

When he finally broke through the hold the Pits had on him and pulled himself out, it was as if his mind had fractured underneath the pressure of corrupted ectoplasm flooding his poor, unbroken body.

There was almost nothing to heal but perhaps the effects of malnourishment and half-healed wounds from previous training.

It was hardly enough for the Pits to be able to do anything with.

And so it took from his head.

————

Green and red clouded his vision.

What was he doing again?

His hands were slick and warm. He felt heavy. Like his clothes were wet and he was weighed down.

Red. Red, red, red, red.

This wasn't the red that he fell in love with though.

Where was that bright red that flew alongside green and yellow? Where was that red that colored books and cakes and Christmas gifts? Where was the red that belonged to her?

Jason was pulled back under the red and green.

————

When he woke again, Jason awoke to the memory of another Robin flying through Gotham. He remembered learning that Batman had another Robin, not one that was him, not one that had already flown to Blüdhaven, not one that had been his son.

No, this Robin had come out of nowhere, taking his place within the family. He had replaced him.

His dad had replaced him so easily.

Did he mean nothing?

This time, he welcomed the red and green.

————

When he awoke again, it was to the taste of sweet, strange soda, like an energy drink that had been left out in the sun and fermented into a sugary sludge that was like electricity solidified.

He blinked blearily, nuzzling the cool skin underneath his cheek. Jazz cradled his head to her chest closely, tipping another gulp of pure ectoplasm into his mouth. Even if the taste made him want to gag, like eating staticky gummy worms after only eating stale pretzels for years, he drank it all.

His mind told him that whatever Jazz wanted, whatever she did to him, she would do it to help him.

Like a tide to the moon, like a moth to candlelight, like Icarus to the sun, he would follow her lead.

He closed his eyes and drank.

Finally, when he finished drinking all of the ectoplasm, she pulled the cup away and cradled his face.

His mind was quiet, like a lulling ocean. He couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything but her touch.

"Jason. How are you feeling?"

He didn't respond. He stared through half lidded eyes at her face, once again memorizing her details into his mind.

Jason drank in the sight of her like a thirsty man within a desert oasis.

The news cameras could not capture her beauty. She had aged in the last three years. Her baby fat had been washed away, revealing a beautiful woman. Jason ached the force of his love for her. Time had only strengthened the love in him, not lessened its fire.

The worry in her eyes intensified and she brushed back his hair, pressing her hand against his head. He blinked slowly, dazedly, as she continued to fret over him.

"... Jazz?" He finally croaked and she breathed a sigh of relief before holding him close.

He was met with a face full of her hair but he didn't mind. Her worry was more than worth it for him.

"Jason." She breathed. "I was so scared. I heard of how Ra's al Ghul used the Pits on you. Talia wasn't there to stop him and— ugh. You're making me so needlessly worried." She pulled back and stared at him. "Idiot."

How did an insult sound so indulgent and loving?

Jason's lips pulled into a slow smile. "Yours."

She looked downward and away, but her pale cheeks couldn't hide the flush.

Jazz gained enough composure and finally turned around, her face set in the same blank mask as always, if it wasn't for the little twinkle in her eyes. She hugged him again and said, "I'm sorry I couldn't have been there for you. I'm here now. I expect that your training was satisfactory? It's been almost three years after all."

He hummed. "Water, please."

"Ah! That's right, yes, water." She fumbled adorably and then fed him a cup of water, washing away the taste of undiluted, raw ectoplasm.

Jason cleared his throat when he finished and said, "It's been great. I trained with the All-Caste when I wasn't training with the League. They're an independent group of people that train to help protect the world from the supernatural. I've learned a lot from them." A hint of pride entered his voice.

"Talia treated me pretty well. What Ra's al Ghul did wasn't her fault."

Jazz's eyebrows furrowed. "Yes, I am aware. You only arrived a few days ago. She has apologized quite thoroughly and was the one who sent you to me. It seems because of your... swim, that the League of Shadows is in disarray and chaos. She gave me her greatest treasure to compensate for the danger to your life."

Jason blinked. "You know, you've grown more expressive over the years, huh?"

Jazz returned the blink and then put a hand to her face. She paused, as if trying to understand what he meant before she said, "I... wasn't always like this. I've only just started smiling around you."

Then she clicked her mouth shut and turned away.

Jason resisted the urge to tease her and changed the subject, "What's Talia's greatest treasure?"

Jazz turned back slowly, wary amusement in her eyes even while her expression was blank. "I'll show you."

She turned to the side and called out, "Damian!"

A boy leapt down from the ceiling and crossed his arms, glaring at Jason.

Jason's jaw dropped. He hadn't noticed him at all! Looking at him further, Jason was even more gobsmacked.

The boy looked exactly like Bruce Wayne as a kid.

Minus the dark skin and green eyes, of course.

Jason turned back to Jazz and his expression must've said a lot because she only nodded and said, "This is Damian al Ghul, son of Talia al Ghul and Bruce Wayne."

Damian clicked his tongue and glared at her ferociously. "Remember all of my titles, wench. I am the heir to the League of Shadows and son of Batman, the true blood heir, unlike the rest of the inferior Robins."

Jason felt a hot fury pierce through him, red and green tinting the edges of his vision again. "Wench?! Watch your tongue, brat!"

"Why should I? I have no idea what Mother was thinking, sending me to mix with the rift-raft." Damian snorted to himself. "You're nothing but a weakling that succumbed to Pit Madness. I have no respect for you and I refuse to obey the word of a pathetic failure like you. Mother should've dropped me off to Father, not any of you."

Jason's rage, for some reason, decided to slow and simmer down. He still had to resist the urge to move away from Jazz's lap and strangle the damn kid though, but he refrained.

"I don't care what you call me, but treat Jazz with respect."

Damon rolled his eyes again. "As if I care for some inbred, useless woman."

Jazz wrapped her arms around his shoulders to hold him back from killing the damn kid.

"Damian," Jazz said soothingly, "your mother brought you here to protect you. There is no need to lash out."

Damian bristled. "I do not need protection! I have been trained from birth to kill and I can certainly protect myself! Far better than the two of you can even do, you abominable weaklings! Once I leave this place, I will go and see my father, Batman!"

Jason resisted the urge to beat the crap out of the kid. He forced back the colors that were clouding his vision again with a careful breath.

Jazz exhaled through her nose. "You're still a child. And I can assure you, you will be safe here." She turned and looked down at Jason. "Hungry?"

Jason grumbled but got to his feet, nodding as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. His clothes had changed from what he had last remembered wearing. He was now clad in a pair of sweatpants and a cotton t-shirt. Jazz stepped in front of him and she gestured Damian to follow as she lead the two of them to another room.

Damian sneered but followed along.

Jason looked around, vaguely surprised at where he was.

Jazz had somehow upgraded the warehouse from before to a high-end apartment, one with lofty rooms, high ceilings, and wide windows. There was sparse furniture within any of the rooms Jason peeked inside of, but it looked less intentional and more like she just forgot to go shopping for it. Blob ghosts bounced along the floor, some curiously approaching them as Jazz walked past them.

Standing within the space, Jason felt a clawing from within him, like a caged monster that didn't feel suited to such a nice and clean area.

Jazz was suited to this place though. She was clean and lovely and deserved all of the luxuries in the world.

Jazz lead the both of the dining room, where she set Damian to her left and Jason to her right, facing each other before she left to cook the food.

"Be good," she said and Jason melted a little before nodding.

He wanted to be good for her. For her, he'd do anything.

Jason idly picked at his nails. Underneath his nails was a dark brown stain, like blood, and Jason pursed his lips, uncomfortable at the thought that he had been killing others, before he looked up to see Damian watching him with a brooding expression, one that would cross Bruce's face many times in the future.

Jason didn't say anything, just looking away, although he noticed the triumphant look on Damian's face.

God, this kid was so bratty, but for some reason, it was kind of adorable.

They sat in silence for a long time, at least half an hour as Jazz prepared the food. Jason was tempted to stand and help her— he loved working together with her in the kitchen because it reminded him of when he was young and Alfred taught him recipes within the Wayne Manor kitchen— but he decided to settle and stay at the dining table to watch over Damian.

Finally, Jason grew bored and he folded his hands in his lap, leaned back, and said, "So. Talia sent you here, huh? What for?"

"It's League business. You have no right and no need to know." Damian said haughtily.

Jason gave a snort. "So you don't know, huh? Typical."

Damian rose to the bait and growled, standing up as he placed his hands on the table and leaned to snarl at Jason's face.

"Shut your mouth, you filthy—"

"Dinner's ready," Jazz said, her voice its usual flatness. She set bowls of rice in front of them and said, "Eat."

Damian glared the bowl of pilaf. Jazz left to bring back three more bowls of salad and when she returned, Damian opened his mouth to complain. "My mother never should've brought me here. If I am forced to eat peasant food, then I would rather die."

Jazz stared at him with a blank expression before she said, "Alright. You don't have to eat it. Sit there until we finish."

Then she began to eat. Jason hid his smile and followed her lead, putting a spoonful of flavorful rice pilaf into his mouth after a few careful blows. He gave an exaggerated moan and swallowed his food before he turned to Jazz and said, "It's delicious. Have you been practicing?"

Jazz' face softened for a moment, and she said, "Yeah, I have been. Do you like it?"

"It's great!" Jason beamed.

Damian's expression had darkened dangerously.

In one smooth motion, he took the provided fork that Jazz gave and pounced at her. Jason had a knee jerk reaction to the sight, nearly lunging forward to block Jazz when the shadows around her shot out and tightly wrapped around Damian, who made an undignified noise and screamed in rage. The shadows curled around his shoulders, arms, and legs, black tendrils wrapping around his hand and tugging him backwards as she struggled. The fork dropped to the table and Damian made a noise that was halfway between a sob and a snarl.

Jazz waved a hand and the shadows retreated, letting Damian slump onto the table. Jazz steadied him with careful hands and she asked, "Are you alright—?" before her breath hitched.

Jason's blood began to roar in his ears.

Red began to stain the table with thick droplets.

Damian twisted the fork into Jazz's side and she gave a small gasp at the pain.

Green and red clouded his vision and Jason shook with the urge to kill that damn brat.

"You fucking bastard!" Jason snarled. He wasn't armed but if that vermin was going to use cutlery to hurt Jazz, he didn't mind returning the favor and using his spoon to kill him.

"Jason," Jazz said monotonously. He didn't care though, and he surged forward to grab Damian by the back of his shirt, swinging him off the table and tossing him towards the wall.

"Jason."

He couldn't hear her through the rage and bloodlust clogging his chest. Damian got to his feet and smirked, though a hint of fear entered his eyes.

"Tt. If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get," he said. "I heard you were a failed Robin before. Perhaps I should kill you and bring you to Batman as proof of my prowess."

"I'm going to tear you apart." Jason's voice rumbled with his fury. "You're nothing but a weak, pathetic little brat who can't even appreciate kindness when it's given to you.

"Jason! Enough!"

He moved forward but then a strong grip held his wrist back. He pulled his hand forward to throw them off but halted when he saw Jazz's cool expression. Her eyebrows dipped on her forehead, the only sign of her agitation.

The moment he registered her eyes on him, all anger left him like a deflated balloon. He quieted, ashamed and red faced, hunching in on himself as he looked away from her accusing gaze.

"Jason."

"He attacked you." Jason said weakly.

Jazz raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine. It's all healed now, wanna see?" She lifted the edges of the torn hole in her shirt to reveal smooth skin that was tacky with dried blood underneath.

Jason bit his lips. "Sorry."

"Not to me, Jason. Say sorry to Damian."

He could practically sense Damian's conflicting arrogance and confusion.

As fair as always, however, she turned to Damian and said, "You will also apologize to Jason for aggravating him. Your mother brought you to us for protection. While you are under my care, you will not hurt another person in my protection, understand? Apologize to each other."

Jason lifted his eyes and Jazz stared at him with familiar turquoise eyes. Her gaze held no anger, no judgement. She was as a calm as a lake and steady as the mountains. Unlike Bruce, she wouldn't cast him out for stupid mistakes.

He ignored the pain in his heart from the thought of his ex-dad and turned to Damian, who was back to glowering.

"I'm sorry for attacking you."

"You should be." Damian spat.

The air around them chilled enough for Damian to notice and stare at Jazz, wide eyed. She loomed over him, expression blank and emotionless. Her body language and face revealed none of her emotions and yet the two boys could sense that she was very displeased.

Damian clicked his tongue and then said, "I... apologize," the word 'apologize' sounded like it had been strangled out of him, "for attacking your... keeper. And I apologize for provoking you as well."

"Apology accepted," Jason replied dryly.

Damian huffed out of his nose and then pointed the fork he had attacked Jazz with at her. "Tell me, witch, how did you heal yourself? Mother never told me you were not human."

Before Jason could even snap a reply at him for daring to point a fork at Jazz and insulting her, she plucked the fork out of his fingers and pocketed it. "I have accelerated healing."

She sighed down at the spilled food on the table and then said, "I will prepare another dish and more utensils. Sit and eat this time."

Damian huffed again and crossed his arms.

Jason grimaced and sat back down, picking up his spoon again.

Well, even if it was infested with a pest, at least he was back home and with Jazz.

————

Unfortunately, the pest kind of grew on him.

Damian was kind of cute in a tiny-baby-animal-who-has-rabies kind of way. He was absolutely feral and quick to violence but he was also intelligent and clever, even when more often than not, he used his wits to find more and more creative ways to insult Jason and Jazz, like the way they dressed, the way they are, then the house they lived in, the blob ghosts that found their homes around them, and then even the way they breathed.

Jason had to wonder to himself, 'Was this what having a little brother felt like?'

But then he realized that no, having a little brother probably didn't require this much murderous intent and assassination attempts. In fact, because of how many attempts there were, Jazz had to move the dining table to the kitchen just so she could keep an eye on them without having to use her shadows, which Jazz tried not to use often on Damian because of how he was frightened he was of it.

Damian, of course, attached himself to Jazz the moment he began to recognize her power and also grew to like the shadows, which often coiled his ankles like a languid dog.

Jason would've been jealous if he wasn't already aware of how cuddly those shadows were.

"Why can't I come with you?!" Damian demanded the next time Jazz went to leave to finish more business in Gotham.

Jason looked up from his college books. After some time, Jazz had convinced him to take online college courses. He was currently on his way to earning his English degree with a small minor in law.

Damian looked at him for assistance but Jason just looked back down. He pretended to write a few notes as Damian sulked and tugged futilely on Jazz's coat.

"Jazlyn!" Damian protested again.

That was something new too.

Jazz wasn't just Jazz. She was Jazlyn Nightingale now.

He didn’t mind. He figured that Jason Nightingale didn't sound too bad.

He was once again interrupted out of his daydream when Jazz spoke up.

"Damian—" she sighed, but Jason interrupted her.

"You should let him go with you." Jason said, giving a reassuring smile when both of them looked at him with wide eyes.

Damian gave him an astonished look but then looked at Jazz with a smirk, confident that since Jason was backing him up, Jazz would naturally fall in line.

It was kind of cute how he thought Jason had some measure of control over Jazz.

Jazz sighed again. "Damian, you won't be able to keep up."

"I'm fast enough and I'm strong enough! I'm far more capable than you believe, Jazlyn." He crossed his arms and glared at her.

Jason gave a snort. He took off his reading glasses and said, "Jazz, just let him go with you. The more excuses you give, the more you're just treating him like a child."

She hesitated and then finally caved. "I'm sorry, Damian. I didn't mean to treat you like a child."

Damian clicked his tongue but he still looked pleased at the fact that he was allowed to go, blushing a little as Jazz patted him on the head in apology. He quickly pulled his head away, hissing like a cat.

Jason hid a smile at the cute sight.

Whatever, he'd help the brat just this once.

Jazz went to find a suitable uniform for Damian to wear but had to promise him that she'd make a better and more fitted outfit for him for the next time he'd go with her. Jazz looked resigned to her fate but agreed.

Damian laid himself over the back of the couch in an undignified pose, the kind that would've made himself angry to see some weeks ago, before he began to poke Jason's shoulder.

"Yes, Damian?"

"What do you want to eat? I will endeavor to bring it home so I can repay you for your assistance." He said grouchily.

Jason burst out laughing. "You're so weird!"

Damian scowled, cheeks turning pink. "Do you want it or not?!"

"Yes, yes," Jason said, still chuckling to himself, "Can you bring me some sushi? I've been craving it."

"What kind?" Damian asked begrudgingly.

They discussed sushi flavors until Jazz finally returned with a small uniform and a cloak. Damian took the clothes with skeptical eyes before he looked at Jazz. "Where did you get these?"

"The Ghost Zone."

Damian wrinkled his nose but obediently went into the bathroom to change. Jazz took Damian's spot, elbows pressing against the back of the couch as she stared at Jason. Jason resisted the urge to turn and stare at her unless he wanted to be blinded further but really —did it even matter when the last thing he would see would be Jazz?— and continued to work on his paper. As he was looking up peer reviews, there was the touch of fingers against his scalp before nails scratched lightly on his head, tugging at knotted curls.

Jason twitched and then promptly melted, leaning back into Jazz's hands.

"You haven't brushed your hair today." She murmured. The shadow she cast wriggled and they pooled into his lap, into the shape of an inky dog. He scratched the sentient darkness, the both of them nearly rumbling with pleasure as Jazz threaded her fingers into his hair. Blob ghosts trailed closer, nuzzling against Jason's legs, their cool and smooth skin making his own tingle.

Damian returned, wearing the dark colored uniform. It was red and black and though it didn't fit him perfectly, it was perfect in making him look like a miniature assassin. A blob ghost sat on his shoulder, half way over his head. Jazz moved away from Jason as her hands smoothed over the cape and gently pushed off the blob ghost.

"Come, Damian. On the way, I'll tell you the boundaries I have set."

"We will discuss them." Damian said sternly.

Jazz chuckled, a small smile breaking her doll face. "Of course." Jason stood up as Jazz's shadows formed a dark abyss on the floor. Before the two could step off and teleport into Gotham's belly, Jason opened his arms.

"No hug before you go?"

The two of them paused and then turned in his direction, one with a blank expression, the other with offended bewilderment.

Jazz stepped closer and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. His insides melted and flowed down to his feet, turning his knees wobbly and sticking him to the floor.

Damian glared at him. "Don't be presumptious, weakling. I have no need for physical affecttion."

"Damian." Jazz sighed, but then shook her head and guided him to the hole her shadows created. He dodged the hand that came to his shoulder but didn't say another word.

Jason grinned, not minding too much, and chirped, "Bye! Kick ass, you hear me?"

Jazz gave a lazy salute and then the both of them jumped into the shadows.

Later, when the two of them came back, Damian was carrying a bag of an assortment of sushi, cheeks flushed with exhilaration as he babbled and rambled about patrolling with Jazz. Even when they were eating, he couldn't stop talking about his patrol.

"And then she took down those worthless criminals with a single wave of her hand! Her hand-to-hand needed some work, it was simply atrocious but we met Batman and his Robin when they attempted to intercept our fight. Of course, they were too weak and pathetic to capture to us, but Batman's skills are admirable. Mother was correct in guessing that he was a warrior. Robin... wasn't that bad, but I'm still far more superior."

Jason laughed. "You were always nagging us to bring you to Batman. You don't want to go with him?"

Damian hesitated, glancing at Jazz, who picked up a piece of sashimi and dipped it in soy sauce. She didn't react to either of them as Jason also turned to stare, her expression serene and also more content than usual. It seemed that to her, the patrol had also went well.

Damian gained the courage and then said, "I asked him what he thought of the criminals in Gotham running free and why he didn't just kill them. His reasoning was wrong. He is a naive fool, if he thinks that just keeping them in a room with a hole to the outside to be freed again will solve the problem of crime in Gotham."

"Murder is wrong," Jazz spoke up before Jason could say anything. "But the way Batman thinks and acts isn't all that great either. There are limits and boundaries. His way of fighting crime isn't enough."

Curiously, Jason asked her, "Are you a means kinda person or an ends kinda person?"

Damian blinked, wrinkling his nose. "Is that an English idiom?"

To distract himself, Jason placed a roll of sushi in Damian's plate, who scowled. His hand clutched around his chopsticks like he was about to stick them in Jason. "Yeah, the quote is 'the ends justifies the means'. It means that the results outweigh the methods you use to get there."

Jazz nodded absently. Then she ate another piece of sushi, quiet.

Damian interrupted his staring. "Then I believe that the ends justify the means. The result is what matters! Who cares about who gets hurt along the way?"

Jason rolled his eyes. Damian was smart, but he had never seen outside of the white-and-black world of the League of Shadows. "First of all—"

Jazz put down her chopsticks. They made a clinking noise against the plate, silencing Damian and Jason.

"I am both an ends and means kind of person. It is important to push towards your goal and attempt to accomplish it through any means necessary. But it doesn't mean you should lose yourself, your ideals, or the people you love along the way. Damian, think of it like this. Would you like to lose everything you have just to fulfill your objective?"

Damian grit his teeth. A look of reluctant respect crossed his face before he lowered his head and said, "No."

Jazz smiled softly. "You're a good child, Damian. You will continue to grow and learn."

"I am not a child." He spat.

"It's alright to be one. No one will judge you and this place is safe. After all, you saw how I handled Batman and Robin, no? Now are you two finished eating?"

Damian just stared at her, silent, before Jazz reached over and ruffled his hair. Damian allowed it for a moment, before he then pulled his head away and bent it over his plate to eat. Jason's eyebrows rose and he met Jazz's eyes, who also looked surprised and most of all, pleased.

They went to bed without a fight that night and for once, Jason didn't feel like he would have to worry too much about Damian sneaking into his room to kill him.

The next morning, Damian hadn't even attempted to stab Jason's hand with a fork when Jason placed a plate of waffles in front of him. He also took the bottle of maple syrup that was always placed in front of him but had never actually been used by him.

"Whoa," Jason teased. "Maple syrup? Careful, you might start becoming one of us plebeians."

"Silence, Todd," Damian grouched. "It is too early for your nonsense. I demand blueberry waffles!" He bent under the table to feed a blob ghost a piece of waffle.

Another uncommon thing to see, Damian asking for small things like a different flavor of waffles.

Jason smiled, opening the fridge to pull out a pack of blueberries to wash them. "Coming right up. Want blueberry syrup and whipped cream with it?" He also pulled out a carton of heavy whipping cream and the blueberry syrup that Jason had made on a bored night.

Damian hesitated. Then he asked, "May I... May I try it?"

Jason grinned. "Sure."

Jazz walked into the kitchen and paused. "What happened?"

"We're having blueberry waffles, but there are also plain waffles too, if you want them."

She tilted her head. Then she nodded and said, "I want blueberry waffles."

When Jason was finished cooking them, he plated the waffles with an abundance of homemade whipped cream, blueberry syrup, and more blueberries. He himself took the now cold plain waffles, topping them with the same ingredients.

"Jason, you didn't want blueberry waffles?" Jazz asked, eyebrows pinched slightly.

He smiled, heart all fuzzy as he stared at the picture of them all in the kitchen, eating together.

Like a family.

God, it made his heart hurt at the thought of it.

"Nah, it's okay."

Jazz stared at him before she scooped up an untouched waffle and piled it on top of his plate. "Here."

She turned to stare at Damian, who turned away. Apparently, he had done enough nice things for the day.

Jason laughed. "It's alright, thanks."

Later that evening, as Jazz prepared for another trip to Gotham to see the aftermath of her actions the night before, Jason stood by and watched them prepare.

"So how about a hug before you go?" He asked, when Jazz's shadows opened another portal and they looked ready to leave.

Jazz didn't even hesitate to turn and take a few steps to kiss him on the cheek. Jason's face reddened and he smiled widely.

Damian chewed on the inside of his cheek and then darted forward to wrap thin arms around Jason's waist. "Goodbye," he said shortly. Then he skittered his way back to Jazz, unconsciously hiding behind her height.

Jason waved goodbye. Jazz returned the gesture while Damian turned his back on him.

When they left, Jason decided to prep for his own plans.

No matter how much he was beginning to love his life with Jazz and Damian, he knew there was only one way for the red and green to leave the edges of his vision.

————

Damian continued to patrol with Jazz. It was obvious that his hero worship that had surrounded Batman changed to Jazz. And Jazz wasn't any different because she loved spoiling him, despite how surprising it seemed with her blank expression that contrasted with her motherly personality. She hadn't said much as to why, but she had mentioned a little brother once to Jason when they had lived in the warehouse, so he assumed that it was the reason why Jazz adored Damian so much.

Likewise, Damian returned that devotion and he and Jason had been teaching Jazz better hand-to-hand combat, which she had lacked because she depended on her master over weaponry and her shadows.

It was a quiet night when the two left again to get rid of more of the scum that clogged Gotham.

Jason stared at the empty space that they had been standing in for a moment, before he then picked up his college books and began to put them away. He quickly cleaned up the house, ushered the blob ghosts into their playpen, and then began to dress in a reconnaissance outfit he fashioned out of stolen Kevlar and leather.

His stomach churned with nerves but he had to do this.

He had been running across Gotham rooftops in secret for some time, but he was only barely reaching his goal. Jazz knew, of course she did because she tracked both Jason and Damian with a piece of their shadow, but she didn't interfere, nor did she know exactly what Jason was doing. All she had said to him was, "Be careful," on a late night before she went to patrol with Damian.

She was amazing.

If she knew what he was doing, she probably would've talked him out of it. But Jason couldn't let that happen. He didn't want to be talked out of this.

He needed to get Batman's attention and then get him to kill the Joker. It was the only way Jason could recover from the green and red in his vision, he knew it.

Jason pulled up the hood from his outfit and picked up his personal pet blob ghost, one that was colored turquoise that was the color of Jazz's eyes, and then threw himself out the window, shooting the grapple hook before he could bludgeon his brains across the concrete streets. The blob ghost sat on his shoulder, its ectoplasm humming an unidentifiable soul song. He darted across the roofs and then finally stopped at the abandoned theme park, where his tracker ended.

Some weeks ago, he had placed a tracker within a box of cargo that Jazz and Damian hadn't caught onto yet.

No matter how much they patrolled Gotham, they wouldn't know how she worked. Not like how Jason did, who was born and raised within the depths of Gotham's bowels.

Said cargo had actually been weapons that had been smuggled into Gotham for the Joker. Jason had watched it get transported to him and now he was ready.

He knew how to get Bruce's attention. He just needed to pique his curiosity without provoking him.

So Jason sent a syringe of Jason's blood and a tuff of Joker's hair in a package, in a way that only a select few within the family would be able to recognize. He waited for Bruce as he watched Damian and Jazz through his phone. The two of them had sometimes allowed him to tag along their patrols as their guy in the chair and he took advantage of that now to see where they were and how they were faring.

Jazz had hidden Damian within her shadows while she ran away from the newest Robin. The newest Robin was apparently the smartest one out of Jason and Dick. Jason was quick to notice that he was quick, wily, and skilled. Damian had begrudgingly admitted that he was a good fighter as well, while Jazz had only mentioned how tired he seemed.

Jason refocused and hacked into Bruce's comms, watching the little beacon that crept closer to his hiding spot.

Surely, he had seen the results of whatever tests Alfred had taken on the blood and hair.

The Joker wiggled from where he was sitting. Jason sent him a glare that couldn't exactly be seen from under his hood. Still, the Joker recognized it and his eyes crinkled in an ugly manner as he seemingly grinned from underneath the duct tape covering his mouth.

God, Jason wanted to just kill him then and there but he shook his head to disperse the red and green that clouded his vision.

He wanted to cause a scene.

He wanted it to be dramatic.

He wanted the whole world to see what choice Batman would make.

Would he choose his resurrected son? Or would he choose the famous mass murderer and killer of his own son, the Joker?

The answer was so obvious, and yet why did Jason doubt Bruce?

Surely, all he needed was a push.

Yes, that was the only reason why Bruce hadn't killed the Joker.

All he had was that stupid hope. And so Jason waited, watching Jazz and Damian dodge and fight against Robin. Damian taunted the newest Robin with, "Struggling? Dance, you worm," before Jazz sighed and used her shadows to cover Damian and pull him back into the shadows again, flipping over several batarangs.

The moment Jason sensed Batman's presence, he pocketed his phone into the blob ghost that peacefully sat on the side and stood up.

Batman kicked down the door and glared at Jason. "You. Why do you have Jason's blood? Who are you?" He snapped.

Jason hummed, a mask sliding onto his personality, just as easy as outfitting himself as the righteous and heroic Robin. "Isn't it obvious?"

He reached over and grabbed the Joker's hair, wrenching his head backwards as Jason threw a gun towards Batman, who flinched backwards when it clattered on the floor.

"You're supposed to catch it, y'know." Jason snarked. "Here's the deal, B. Either you kill the Joker or I will. Make a choice. Only two of us are coming out of here alive."

"... you don't have to do this." Batman said. He tilted his head slightly, just the smallest amount like he was shifting on his feet but Jason knew better. His guess was confirmed correct when Batman tensed and then glared at him.

"Can't talk to Oracle?" He asked.

"What did you do?!" Batman snarled.

Jason shrugged carelessly before pressing the gun to the Joker's temple. "You don't get to call for backup. Decide, here and now. The only way to stop me is to kill me. Like I said, only two of us are leaving here alive."

Batman didn't move.

Why wasn't he moving?

Did he think that Jason was joking? Why was he hesitating?

Why the fuck was he hesitating?

Would he actually choose the Joker over him? His own son? The Batman, hero of Gotham, would actually choose to save a killer rather than help stop millions of future crimes and avenge past deaths?

Just why did Jason have to suffer? All for Batman to reject him another time and choose his own fucking murderer over him?

Millions of thoughts passed Jason's mind in less than a second and yet all of them only made him agrier and feeling worse than ever. Suddenly agitated, Jason's hands twitched from the urge to just pull the trigger but before he could say a word, a batarang flew towards him.

He couldn't dodge as the sharp points of the batarang scraped past the flesh of his throat, a sharp blinding pain shocking him enough that he let go of the Joker and his gun.

Jason collapsed on the floor as he pressed a gloved hand to his bleeding throat.

No, no, no, no!

Why? Why, why, why?

What made him so unloveable that his dad just tried to kill him?

Why didn't Batman choose the Joker?

Why didn't Bruce pick him?

Batman moved forward to grab the Joker again, leaving Jason on the floor, gasping and clutching at his throat.

Blood roared in his ears and flooded his tongue. Red and green entered his vision again and Jason gave a wretched scream, gagging past the taste of metal.

Why?

His blob ghost bounced over to him and covered his hand in an attempt to cover the bleeding, the presence of ectoplasm already helping to form a scab but Jason couldn't let himself heal as he shook his head from the force of his thoughts that screamed at him.

Red and green pervaded his senses, like coppery blood and cloying ectoplasm.

Before he could even think, the blob ghost stretched itself and covered him, blocking the sudden explosion that shattered the windows around him and imploded the walls outward. The floor he was on crashed onto lower ground but the blob ghost protected him from that too.

The shock from the explosion and falling against the ground floor finally kicked him back to proper survival instincts, pulling him out of his wallowing.

Jason couldn't think. He ran home, panting with exhaustion and bleeding from his throat. He had field dressing held to his neck as he ran, the rain making his escape slippery and his hands too wet to keep the field dressing dry. The blob ghost was shoved into his pocket. He would thank it with pets and more ectoplasm later, when he could finally think. For now, he just needed to keep running, to escape from Batman.

But Bruce didn't follow him.

No, he was tending to the Joker after he tried to kill his own son.

When Jason stumbled into the penthouse, wet with blood and rain and wobbly kneed, he was greeted with Damian's snide remarks.

"Tt, Todd, if you were going to sneak out, at least have the decency to get back home before us— Todd! You're bleeding!"

"What?! Jason? Jason!" Jazz cried out and she ran out from one of the rooms with her shadow surfing along a medical kit behind her. "What happened?"

Jason, helplessly, began to cry. Thick tears began to fill in his eyes as the pain, both physical and emotional and mental, finally registered in him, the numbness being chased away with an overwhelming feeling of misery.

Everything in him ached with pain.

"Todd?! What is the matter? I demand answers! Who must I kill?!"

The moment he felt Jazz wrap her arms around him, he fell into them and began to sob.

With the full weight of his body, Jazz was forced to sit on the floor as Jason's body began to shake with whimpering cries.

His face felt sticky and hot and he couldn't help but grab at his chest, as if he was trying to tear open his ribs to pull out his aching, hurt heart.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair!

Why did it seem like Bruce loved the Joker more than him?

Jason couldn't breathe.

His breaths came out fast and hurried, burning his throat as he began to claw at his skin. In one fluid motion, Jaz grabbed his wrists and pulled him forward, so he was forced to hug her to stop tearing at his wound. If he had been coherent, he would've felt the cool carress of Jazz's shadows that cleaned and bandaged his throat.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't feel anything as he started to hyperventilate and panic covered his thinking with a thick haze.

Why? Why, why, why, why?

Didn't Bruce love him?

Jason hiccuped and buried his face in Jazz's shoulder, inhaling the scent of vanilla and darkness, a smell similar to wet earth and salty beach sand. A hand stroked down his spine as Damian curled against his side, arms wrapped around his waist as he struggled to comfort Jason.

Jason sniffled and pulled away from Jazz to grab Damian, tugging him closer before he pressed the both of them into Jazz, as if when he focused enough, he could dig them both into her skin and live within the comfort of her strength and protection without parting from her.

Jazz pet his hair, humming an off tune song as Damian laid limply on Jason's lap, a silent and steady presence.

"Jason? What happened?"

The words spilled from Jason like a gushing faucet. He couldn't help but cry further, too distraught to be embarrassed by the whimpering cries that left him as he shakily told Jazz and Damian what he had done.

He had gone behind their backs to go and seek out the Joker on his own and had tried to trick Batman into killing him. But Batman had refused. He had even struck him with a batarang that had cut through his throat.

Batman never missed and he had surely guessed Jason's identity.

He had chosen to kill his own son over the Joker.

Jason sobbed. If he could see, he would've seen how both Jazz and Damian shared a frantic glance before Jazz gathered Jason further in her arms and Damian pressed his face against his arm, not knowing to do but wanting to help regardless.

Jason's cries eventually slowed and he blearily tucked his face into Damian's hair, holding onto him gently.

Damian couldn't get hurt. Not like how Jason was hurt. He wouldn't let it happen.

Even if Jason had to rip apart Gotham and sink it into the bay with his own hands, he would make sure Damian and Jazz were kept safe.

His heart was shuddering from pain and fear and hurt but the sudden determination to make up his mistake to the two of them was so strong that it was almost dizzying.

Color stained the edges of his sight.

He snarled wordlessly to himself as he held the two of them closer to himself.

Jason eventually fell asleep, the green and red still tinting his vision.

————

When Jason woke up, he was on his bed.

The blob ghost that traveled with him was in his arms, nibbling on his clothes. He gave it a few pats, watching it bounce as he blinked to try and moisten his dry eyes. Everything in him felt sore and sticky, like a child smacked him a few times on a wall and then dunked him in a vat of glue.

He drank water from the water bottle on his desk and looked at the silent and unmoving blob ghost that was still laying on his bed. “Hey, do you know where Jazz and Damian are?”

It bounced once and then jumped into the air, where it spun in a circle to beckon Jason to follow. The blob ghost floated through the door and Jason followed it to the living room, where both Damian and Jazz were looking at the same tablet, squished together in an armchair. Jazz’s shadows curled around them lazily, having taken the form of a small wolf pup.

They both looked up when they noticed Jason.

“Are you alright?” Jazz asked.

Jason tried to give her a small smile, but it didn’t exactly work. He was pretty sure he was grimacing at her instead. “I feel better after sleeping.” He flopped onto the couch and Damian pulled himself from Jazz’s embrace to go and sit next to him.

“Todd, how long have you been sneaking out?” He demanded.

“For awhile now. Maybe a few months? Jazz knew about it.” Jason resigned himself to the questioning. He met Jazz’s gaze, which held no judgement. She looked tired, he realized, and he hated to see it.

Damian gave a betrayed look to Jazz, who sighed. “Sorry, Damian. I tracked Jason leaving the house a couple of times but I didn’t think it was important. This place isn’t a prison, so I didn't mind him leaving as long as he was safe.”

Damian scowled harder and kicked Jason’s side. “Whatever. We investigated what happened and a warehouse from the East End exploded just yesterday, decimating an entire block. Batman was also seen fleeing and the Joker is back in the Asylum. Whatever you tried to do to force Batman to kill the Joker, you failed.”

“I know! I know, okay?!” Jason snapped, suddenly furious.

Who was Damian to tell him his failures? He got it, alright?

He was unloved.

That was just a fact.

“Jason,” Jazz said, briefly snapping him out of his fury. “What were you thinking?”

“I've been thinking of how the Joker is still alive and Batman has done nothing about it." He clenched his fists. "He needs to pay!"

Jazz tilted her head. "Who has to pay?"

Jason faltered. For a moment, he also wondered who he wanted to suffer most before he said determinedly, "Both of them! Batman is a hypocrite who would let the murderer of his son run free while he chases after someone like you, who actually does good!"

Jazz gave a small, embarrassed chuckle. "Not really."

Even Damian snorted. "How so? Everyone knows of your feats in reducing the crime rates in that vile city!" He said. "Batman couldn't do anything in decades but you are single-handedly lowering the amount of violence in that city in only a few years!"

Jason felt a surge of extremely misplaced pride.

Jazz blushed but then turned to Jason and said, "Jason, you never told me you felt this way. How long has this been going on?”

Jason paused and then looked away.

How could he tell her?

She was beautiful and radiant and kind. Not like him, who was ugly and horrible and cruel.

He didn't want her to know the thoughts in his head, the thoughts that sang of death and revenge and murder.

He didn't want her to drive him away like Bruce had done.

There was a rustle of clothing and then a hand gripped his chin, tugging on his face. He squeaked and was met with Jazz's towering height as she stared down at him, eyes wide and intense with green. She had left her seat and crossed the living room to get to him, shadows underneath her writhing slowly.

"Jason. When did you start feeling this way?"

Jason didn't pull away from Jazz's grip. Her hands would never willingly or knowingly hurt him and his body knew this, relaxing within the palms of her hand before he shrugged and mumbled, "I don't know. I've always thought like this."

It pained him to admit just how spiteful he was to her.

She wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye, humming. Then she turned her head back to address Damian. "Damian, you once told me that Jason has succumbed to Pit Madness before, no? Tell me about the Pit."

"The Pits are natural holes of Lazarus water that rises from the Earth's ley lines. Its history is unknown but Grandfather has used them many times to revive and rejuvenate himself. Pit Madness is one of its largest side effects. It causes irrational anger and fear, paranoia, and bipolar moods."

"Thank you, Damian." Damian preened and Jazz turned back to Jason, squishing his face between her gloved fingers gently. "If you've been suffering, why haven't you told me?"

Her thumb rubbed underneath his eyes again. Jason blinked, peering at her through his eyelashes.

The room was quiet before Jason muttered, "I didn't want you to worry."

"I've been worrying regardless. You came back to me from the League drowning from fluid within your lungs and smelling like rot. I thought that the ectoplasm had cleared you, but I see that you haven't been honest with me about your symptoms."

Jason practically wilted. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lie—"

"I'm not angry, Jason." She soothed. "I wish you had been honest, but I am not angry. I don’t think you should attempt this again.”

A sudden surge of anger washed over Jason. "Why not?! Is it because I'm too dangerous?" He pulled his face away from her hands and spat, "The Joker needs to be dead! I need to see Bruce kill that son of a bitch with his own hands!"

Jazz asked, "Why?" And Jason exploded.

"He killed me! He tortured me and he's the reason why I'm dead! But I'm Bruce's son— and he won't even avenge me?! He lets that damn killer run free but he should've died! Four fucking years ago— the day he found my corpse! He lets a murderer run free and he needs to pay!"

His breaths came quicker at the memory of Batman hurting him —slitting his throat and leaving him to die— but he shook his head and recovered quickly as Jazz questioned him further.

"But why? Why do you need Bruce to do it for you?"

Perhaps if the green and red wasn't invading his vision, he would've realized that Jazz was evaluating him, goading him on for more answers as she and Damian shared glances between them. But he was so enraged, he had stood up from the couch, tossing pillows to the floor as he paced, unable to stop his own raving and shouting.

"Because he's my dad! And I would've done the same for him! So why didn't he do it for me?" He paused in his pacing, hurt stabbing through his chest like knives. Why didn't Bruce love him enough? The rage came back quickly though, and he continued, "The both of them need to pay. I'll never rest and recover if the Joker is still alive— you can't make me!"

“I see.” She said. “Tell me, Jason, would getting rid of the Joker get rid of your Pit Madness?”

He grabbed her wrists to look her into the eyes and show her just how serious he was. Her expression was blank but Jason couldn’t calm down the fire roaring in his heart, green and red dotting his vision again.

“Yes. Killing the Joker is my obsession. You can’t stop me from killing him. Even if I have to confront Batman again.”

Jazz tilted her head, her hair blocking the edges of his vision with red, red, red.

"... that's fine. Damian, would you please?"

"Gladly."

The next thing Jason saw was darkness, with Damian standing over him.

Damn it all.

He hadn't noticed the brat sneaking up on him.

Jason woke up again with a sore neck and darkness outside of his window, evident by his desk lamp being the only light within the room.

Immediately, he sat up and whirled around, where Damian and Jazz sat at his desk, idling around. Damian was poking a mysterious new box placed atop his desk like a smug cat, while Jazz was thumbing through Jason's annotations in his books, completely engrossed.

"... you knocked me out." Jason said almost accusingly, making them look up at him.

Damian rolled his eyes. "You were hysterical. We did what we had to."

Jason resisted the urge to snap at him and looked at Jazz, who was staring at him with a blank expression, her shoulders slumped and eyes drooping with exhaustion. Guilt gnawed at his chest and he ducked his head.

"How long was I out?" He asked. He was tired of feeling sorry of how he acted.

It was just who Jason was.

Irritable, cruel, mean Jason who couldn't hold back his ugly temper, even in front of the woman he loved.

"Six hours. We have a present for you." Jazz picked up the box and presented it to Jason. Jason glowered at the sight of it, a thread of irritation coursing through him but he didn't want to disregard Jazz's gift so he reluctantly picked it up. He ignored Damian's eager lean over his shoulder and he unwrapped the pretentious looking ribbon and pulled the lid off.

He stared into the eyes of the Joker, disoriented.

He turned and sputtered, "W-What?"

He was beginning to feel dizzy.

Jazz smiled somewhat shakily. "You said it yourself, right? You won’t recover until he’s dead. Damian and I took him back from the Asylum. And I thought it was rather tasteless, but Damian has a video of what we did to the Joker too."

Gleefully, Damian crooned, "I tortured him for you. With a crowbar and everything. So cheer up, yes? You're polluting our home with your needless anguish. We have avenged you, so be glad."

Jason wanted to throw up.

He stared at Joker's dead eyes and his frozen frown from rigor mortis.

It was as if a weight floated off of his shoulders, freeing him from his earthly tethers.

'We have avenged you.'

He had just wanted to hear a version of those words from his father. He just wanted to know that someone loved him enough to avenge him. He just wanted to know that he was remembered and cherished and loved so badly by someone that they would take a life for him.

And now. He received the greatest gift of all.

Jason's eyes began to fill with tears again. "... thank you," he croaked.

"Oh Jason..." Jazz murmured and she sat on the edge of the bed, pushing away the box that held the Joker's head, to brush away the liquid relief that ran down Jason's cheeks. Damian scoffed but didn't wriggle away when Jason wrapped an arm around him.

"Crybaby," he muttered and Jason laughed wetly.

Jason cried from relief and the amount of feelings and adoration he felt for Jazz and Damian. Jazz continued to brush away tears with her thumbs as she leaned over to lay small kisses over Jason's face and hair.

Jason wanted to melt.

He wanted to melt and die from the amount of love he felt. He felt full in all sorts of ways, as if everything was perfect and he was floating off to heaven and he was nothing but a vessel for the sheer devotion he was suddenly feeling. Everything felt warm and soft and if someone tried to cut him open right now, he didn't know if he would bleed pink hearts or if he would be invulnerable.

When Jason finally stopped crying, the shadows brought him tissues and Damian was drawing mindless shapes on his thighs, leaning against him silently. Jazz still had his face in her hands and even if she twisted his head off right now, he probably would've still opened the gates of heaven for her.

"Feeling okay?" She asked softly.

"I love you both so much." He said as sincerely as he could. He placed a hand on Damian's head, ignoring his stiff body, and another on Jazz's wrist. "Thank you. So much. I... I don't think I can..."

"No payment necessary, Jay." Jazz said sweetly.

"Easy for you to say. I demand that you bake cookies for me. I want chocolate chip, triple chocolate, ginger snaps, crinkle cookies, peanut butter cookies, the ones with jam inside of them, lemon cookies—"

"Whatever you want," Jason replied easily.

If Damian wanted a thousand different types of cookies, who was Jason to deny him? In fact, if Damian wanted Jason to blot out the sun, Jason was inclined to create a blackhole and simply wipe out the entire universe along with it.

Jazz chuckled. "I like Jason's cookies too." Her gaze turned serious and she then murmured, "Jason. Remember when you told me that you would help me take over Gotham?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll need your help soon. Getting rid of the Joker was last on my to-do list. After this, I'm finally confronting Batman head on and if need to be, removing him from Gotham entirely before I take over." Both Jason and Damian tensed.

Jazz's gaze was serious. "So is your offer still open?"

||||||||||

Timeline is iffy *eyes DC with disdain* but Jazz is one year older than Jason. But Angel, you say! How was Jazz only 16 in the beginning and already a budding supervillain? 🤷 For any of you worried, Batman is not the villain! This was not intended to make Batman abusive (he's just a shitty father) This is Jason's POV, so he's the antagonist rn, but I promise, Batman isn't all bad! If you can't tell, Damian is my favorite *attempts to pet his hair but the hair gel is in the way* Please comment!! I worked really hard!! This is most likely the bulkiest chapter out of the whole fic. If there are any mistakes, feel free to tell me (gently) Here is what Jazz Fenton looks like in this AU Next up: Jason reunites with all of his siblings and maybe we learn more of Jazz's real goal?

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #jazz fenton #dc batman #anger management #dp au #jason todd #damian wayne #crime boss jazz fenton #dp fic #this is bc someone asked for it 👋🙋#dcxdp #dpxdc

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