Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8466025.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Young_Justice_(Cartoon), Batman_-_All_Media_Types, Under_the_Red_Hood
  Relationship:
      Jason_Todd/Bruce_Wayne
  Character:
      Jason_Todd, Bruce_Wayne, Dick_Grayson, Wally_West, M'gann_M'orzz, Donna
      Troy, Black_Canary, Artemis_Crock, Kaldur'ahm, Kon-El_|_Conner_Kent,
      Garth_(DCU)
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-04 Words: 4820
****** Strange That in my Remoteness I ******
by MelAncrath
Summary
     Snapshots of Jason's time with The Team, which generally didn’t go
     how anyone hoped it would.
Being hit across the face with a crowbar was more painful than Jason's body
could fully register. His neck snapped back, his vision went white, he was a
failure and was going to die because of his inadequacy.
“Which hurts more?” asked his murderer. “Forehand,” whack, “or backhand?”
Whack. Jason's skull was caving in.
If Jason could have replied with more than broken animal noises and mortal
dread he would have laughed. Nothing hurt more than the knowledge that he
hadn't been enough. Than the fact that he had fucked up exactly as he knew he
would.
***
After a year and a half of Bruce pushing and molding and turning him into
something that could fly they were running out of excuses. Batman could no
longer plausibly claim to the rest of the hero community that Jason wasn’t
ready.
“We don't have to, you know,” Jason said, as they stood at the threshold of the
zeta tube access point. “I mean, we can just… keep doing what we've been
doing.”
He could sense Bruce's reluctance. There was nothing about Jason joining The
Team that appealed to either of them.
He'd met most of them before and the message was loud and clear: Dick’s team
was a family and as much as they opened their arms to Jason they would never
fully embrace him.
“Working with a team is an important skill to learn.” Said Batman.
“Uh, duh, we're a team.”
“Of course we are, but you should also have peers that you can relate to.” This
wasn't anything they hadn't said to each other before.
“Whaaaat? I've got all those peers at school.”
Bruce didn't even bother saying anything in reply, he just gave Jason a look so
pointed that it managed to translate through the cowl.
“Yeah ok, I see what you're saying but Alfred and I are totally down with each
other.”
“Alfred is not your peer.” Bruce said wryly.
“Don't be ageist B. Al is a hip cat.”
That earned him a chuckle and Jason felt even less interested in bothering with
people who weren't them.
“You should have a space away from Gotham, Dick always -”
“I’m not Dick.” Jason interrupted. “I’m good with just us.” This was his last
stand. “I’ve got enough on my plate without having to split weekends with the
sidekick brigade.”
“None of you are sidekicks.”
“Uh… I mean if that's what everyone needs to tell themselves then fine but I
just call it like I see it.”
“You know you’re more to me than a sidekick.”
“It’s not a dirty word boss, I know we’re partners and you’re my ‘mentor’ and
whatever other approved language we want to use but come on, you’re like a
genius billionaire super ninja who faces down apocalypse level threats with the
Justice League in space.” He could tell Bruce wanted to say something but Jason
barreled on. “I know I’m not completely useless. I know how to watch your back
on the streets and I’m good for crowd control or handling small time shit and
I’m down with that, it's not nothing, but come on, nobody's gonna tap me for
taking on the next interdimensional threat or whatever.”
Bruce grabbed Jason’s chin with his gauntleted hand and tilted his head back,
maybe he would have kissed Jason if they hadn't been in uniform. “You will be.
Some day you will be who I call on to help me deal with higher level threats
and I would like you to begin working with the team so that you can ease into
that aspect of the mission within the safety of a larger unit.”
That was the first compelling argument B had put forth for spending two
weekends a month with the junior league.
“Ok.” He said.
“RECOGNIZED. BATMAN 02. ROBIN B13.”
***
“Which hurts more?” all of Jason's pain has run together into a general state
of agony. “A?” Forehand. “or B?” Backhand.
Jason gathered all of his strength, all of his hate and disgust and the blood
pooled in his mouth and spat it at the Joker’s paper white face because fuck
that chatty asshole.
***
Superboy was probably the easiest of his teammates to tolerate. The guy never
said a word more than necessary, and Jason could relate to having an absentee
father. Ok, yeah, the big S was just a bit wary of his clone and Jay’s dad had
been a criminal who'd died in the service of Two-Face but common ground was
scarce, he had to take what he could get. He appreciated that they could sit
together in silence and not feel a need to fill up the empty air.
Dick was good too but he was better on his own.
Everyone else was a bit of wash. Too caught up in each other and their own
drama to be good company.
It was hard work not to take The Team's ease with each other as a slight
against himself. When they had been forging bonds and running missions for the
Justice League Jason had been stumbling through school on an empty stomach.
But, as much as he understood it, the mutual lack of connection he felt with
them cast a shadow over every interaction.
He was forever out of sync, his participation with them an afterthought. He
couldn't even pick up on whatever frequency they used to move like a swarm when
M’gann finished baking something and everyone would convene in the kitchen,
talking and laughing for long stretches of time before Jason found his way
there. He wandered around their edges like an interloper, like a stranger
approaching someone else's campfire on a cold night. If it felt like they were
throwing parties without him the notion wasn't completely unfounded.
He couldn't say any of this to Black Canary though. Even if she was really nice
and a great teacher he knew better than to shit where he ate.
“I’ve noticed you’re a bit, distant, with The Team.” She said, not unkindly.
Jay was sitting cross-legged on a plush green arm chair in a small room away
from the main area of the mountain. He wanted a cigarette.
“There's kind of an age difference, also apparently I’ve got some problems
socializing. Did B send you the other psychologists notes, they’re pretty
detailed?”
“You’re not supposed to…” She trailed off, probably wanting him to continue
divulging how reading his court appointed therapist’s opinion of him made him
feel.
“I hacked the files, I was curious.” He offered, subject successfully changed.
He pulled the same shit with his civilian therapist. B himself had coached Jay
on how to talk around certain subject matter.
“To answer your question he hasn’t shared them, no.” She said.
Jay wondered if that was true, not that it mattered. “It’s just normal stuff,”
he said, letting himself fidget with the seams of the chair cushion. “I mean
normal stuff for someone with a fucked up, sorry, I mean not great upbringing.”
Jason didn’t actually care about cursing, no matter how many times B barked
“Language.”, but playing nice never hurt.
Black Canary waited patiently for him to continue.
“I’ll just send you the files. It’s just mostly notes about neglect and abuse
and shit, stuff,” god damnit censoring himself was annoying. “You already
know.”
“You don't have to send me anything you don’t want to, I’d rather hear about
your life from you if you’d like to talk about that.”
“Not really,” he admitted truthfully. “I mean I have to talk to Dr. Peabody, it
was part of the, well I mean I don’t have to talk to her, I just have to talk
to somebody,” Bruce had painstakingly stressed that Jason had options and could
choose any therapist in Gotham or anywhere else for that matter. “I just feel
like I talk about that enough, no need to keep re-hashing things.”
“Is there anything on your mind that you can’t share with civilians that you’d
like to talk about?”
He was sleeping with his boss. He wasn’t connecting with The Team. He had a
million things in his life now that he never expected and didn’t deserve and
loved fiercely but they were all pulling him in twenty different directions and
he was fucking stressed.
“Can you do the hypnosis thing that helps you quit smoking?” Now was not the
time to quit smoking. Jay had tried to quit cold turkey the first time Alfred
had given him a disappointed look after he'd found a pack of Jay’s cigarettes
while picking up his room. It had been a literal disaster. He’d mood-swung and
temper-tantrumed his way through two weeks before giving up for everyone’s
sake. He’s pretty sure Bruce had been close to breaking up with him, benching
him, and possibly throwing his ass out. “It's just that, I wanna quit but I
don’t want to ask a civilian doctor because what if I divulge important secrets
or something?” Hypnosis didn’t work on Jay, he hadn’t even needed any training
from B for that, he was just a hard headed son-of-a-bitch. It wasn’t really
anything to be proud of apparently, not being susceptible to suggestion was
just some advantageous trait he had for whatever reason.
“I can’t but I could refer you to a trusted colleague who could teach you how
to hypnotize yourself.” B had already tried to teach him how to hypnotize
himself, it was a useful trick, that's how they'd figured out he wasn't
suggestible.
“I’ll ask the boss.”
“Was that really what you wanted to talk about?”
“Maybe I’ll give you more next time?” He asked with a smile, she wasn’t a
pushover, that’s for sure.
“It’s not about ‘giving me more.’ Or how much I can get out of you, Robin,” she
said “it’s about being a resource, being someone who can help you if you have
something you’d like to discuss.”
Shit, he’d been too much of a smart ass. “I know, sorry, I’m new the the whole
‘just here to help’ bit.” When in doubt be the pitiful golden-hearted street
urchin they expect. “It’s nice though, I mean, having people who want to help,
its really nice.” He desperately wanted to just say he was fine and end this
but he knew that was the fastest way to get pegged as hiding something. “Can we
maybe talk more another time? I want to… get my thoughts in order first is
all.” He’d figure out something better to ask for help with that would keep her
happy and keep him from getting thrown off The Team for being a deficient
fucked up ball of emotional and psychological problems.
“Sure thing,” she was too fucking kind. “I’m sure you’ve heard this before but
just know that you can talk to me about anything, everything we discuss is
strictly confidential and I am under no obligation to share anything with
Batman or anyone else.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Jason said sincerely and finally escaped.
***
At some point he must have blacked out or dissociated because the Joker is gone
and all that’s left between Jason and the exit is his broken and bound body, a
traumatic brain injury, and the bomb in the corner.
***
Jason bolted the second The Team’s mission debrief was over and done with. He
wanted, needed, to get home as soon as possible. The whole assignment could
have gone better, he could have done so many little things better and all of
his mistakes were running through his head on repeat. He need something to make
it stop. He needed Bruce.
When he materialized in the cave all he had to say was “B.” and Bruce knew.
“Upstairs.” Bruce said.
Jason made it to the master bedroom in record time.
Finally he felt safe bouncing on Bruce’s cock. This he knew. He could do this
without letting anyone down. Bruce’s lust was tangible proof that Jason was
actively wanted, not just passively tolerated.
This was also currently the only aspect of his life that Dick hadn’t claimed
first.
Being on top wasn’t his favorite position. Even when this had been work and the
clientele less than trustworthy Jason had prefered being held down, surrounded,
driven into, taken over.
But with Bruce, even when he was on top Jason wasn't in control. Bruce’s hands
were on his hips, guiding him where he was wanted, his fingers leaving bruises
that Jason would reverently prod at tomorrow while he remembered that someone
had held him tight instead of pushed him away.
Maybe it made Bruce feel like less of a perv if Jason was the one doing all the
work.
“Fuck me, fuck me.” he begged and Bruce complied.
He felt full. Bruce was hitting every sweet spot within him. Every thrust
caused a spike of pleasure. Jason arched his back and stopped breathing.
“Don’t,” Bruce said in his command voice. “Not yet.”
Jason shivered and whimpered and thought he might come undone but he tried to
do what Bruce wanted, he always tried to do what Bruce wanted.
“Boss, please” he begged. “Please, please let me come.” Jason rolled his hips,
bit his lip, tried every trick he knew to make Bruce give in. “I love you.” He
whispered like a confession.
“On you knees.” Bruce said a second before flipping him there.
Jason was in heaven. Bruce was so strong, so big around him, biting his neck
like an animal, pounding into him without mercy. The new angle was deep, Jason
was making noises he’d never heard from himself before, Bruce was finding new
places inside him.
His heart was pounding in time with Bruce’s brutal thrusts. His fucking vision
was blurring. Jason felt himself floating, his mind swimming, his mistakes
absolved. But he didn’t come. Bruce had given him an order. Jason always tried
to do what Bruce told him. He may be street trash but he could do this for
Bruce. He could be good for him. He could give him this. Nobody could say Bruce
didn’t want him when Jason could give him this. Not the papers that wondered
why Bruce had taken in another stray, not The Team who had no need for a
second, inferior Robin, not even the voice of his own self doubt. All of that
noise was driven out of his head and the ragged sound of Bruce's breathing was
his only anchor.
“Come for me.” Bruce said.
And Jason did.
Jason came in waves of relief and collapsed onto the bed as Bruce continued to
fuck him until he came as well.
Jason felt light and full and every now and then his body would shiver with
aftershocks. It took him a while to realize Bruce was speaking to him. Holding
him in his arms and petting Jason’s damp curls away from his face.
“You were so good for me, Jay.” Bruce praised him.
Jason hadn‘t know how much those words would mean to him when he’d first
pressed for Bruce to have sex with him but now they meant everything.
Bruce never did this with Dick, Jason had asked. Bruce never would have
initiated it with Jason either. He’d tried so hard to master and mask his
attraction but Jay had noticed the frayed edges of his desire and had tugged on
them with shameless flirting, blatant sexual innuendo, and outright
proposition. Subtlety had not been the tool that unraveled Bruce's morals.
His original intent had been to bind Bruce to him with more familiar thread
than charity but oh, how Jason’s half baked plan had backfired. It was probably
really unhealthy, wrapping everything of yourself up in one person.
***
The Team was being lead up and down the Siberian border by the League of
Shadows.
Batman had them monitoring certain shipments passing over the border in order
to covertly determining how strong a hold the Shadows had on the drug
trafficking lanes in Central Asia. It was cold and boring work until Superboy
noticed first Deathstroke, then Bronze Tiger, and then the Joker all directing
separate transport operations. Obviously more was going on than an uptick in
the global opium market.
The Team split up into smaller cells in order to monitor all three of the major
players. They contacted Batman as soon as they realized the whole thing was a
setup but Jason had already been separated from M’gann and Donna.
***
He always felt guilty around Dick. Here he was, some random kid picked up off
the streets running around in his hand me downs as if Bruce was saying “Look, I
don’t need you. Anyone could be Robin for me.”
And the guy was such a fucking good sport about it too. He even offered to
train Jason, teach him some things about acrobatics that Batman was just less
suited for. Dick was too fucking perfect.
“Come on Little Wing, I know you can get this! Triple twist double back layout,
come on!” Dick called to him from below.
Jason was working on the horizontal bar. He was fine at it, better at rings but
there were probably more bars and pipes to swing around on in Gotham than
rings. Why he needed to be able to do fancy Olympic level dismounts he’d never
know but hey, he enjoys flailing around in the air as much as any other sixteen
year old boy so he goes for it.
He’s trained the dismount religiously. Dick broke down every movement and
drilled it into Jason’s body until he could put it together without thinking.
That's why Jason can tell he’s not going to make it the second his first
rotation is done. He’s not going fast enough, fuck, he’s going to run out of
air. If he only did one layout he could still stick the landing but he'd rather
keep flipping so he goes for two and then just tucks and rolls into the landing
before he hits the mat wrong and breaks something.
“Not enough momentum.” He said before popping back up.
Thankfully Dick wasn’t fussed. “That was good though! You’re gonna get it
eventually.”
Jason wanted to ask if being able to do this was useful but he's done that
before and it's the quickest way to make Dick's face fall.
“God, you learn so fast.” Dick said. “You know some guys train half their lives
and can't do half of that, right?”
“It’s that gross Chinese tea B’s been pushing on me.” Jason waves off the
praise with a joke.
“Oh my god,” Dick laughed and made gagging noises. “that stuff was the worst.”
“That's how you know it's real, ancient mystic herbs should taste exactly that
rank.”
“Well, they get results, I’ll give them that.”
“Again?” Jason asked.
“Yeah, get up there. If you can't do it this time maybe we’ll brew up a pot,
juice you up, then try it again.”
“Fuck,” Jason laughed and jumped back up on the bar ”that's pretty good
motivation to get it this time.”
***
Hope fluttered to life in his chest then died. For a second Jason thought that
there must be some way out. Why have a count down, why have a bomb at all for
that matter? The fact that there was a countdown must mean that the Joker was
giving him some chance of escape. That crazy motherfucker hadn't even taken off
Jason’s mask. He’d bludgeoned Jason near to death but hadn’t swung the killing
blow. What could it mean other than that Jason was meant to live?
But the red digital display didn’t care about a broken boy’s last gasp of hope.
Even though Jason freed his hands from their cuffs, even though he dragged
himself over to the bomb by his bloody fingernails, even though, even though.
There just wasn’t enough time.
Maybe it was a cruel joke, maybe there had never been enough time to begin
with, or maybe there just hadn’t been enough time for Jason. Maybe someone
better, like Dick, could have escaped.
***
Falling to your death was a pretty shitty way to go in Jason's well informed
opinion. For one thing, from the height at which he was falling there was just
way too much time to contemplate how fucked he was before he hit the ground. It
was also cold.
It was also ridiculous. He had been fighting a pack of hyper intelligent
gorillas who were trying to launch an entire hyper intelligent gorilla city
into the sky and had been flung off of said city for his trouble.
Fuck this entire mission. If Jason survived he just wanted to go home. Let the
gorillas have it their way. If they could get an entire city up in the air then
who was he to stop them?
Jason didn’t really think he was going to die, there were too many powerhouses
on The Team who could fly, this was mostly just an embarrassing situation.
“Robin!” Donna shouted as she matched speeds with him.
“Hey.” He said as casually as he could.
“I’ve got you!”
“Cool, thanks.” He said, and then he was being carried in her arms like a
damsel saved from distress which was fine and not emasculating at all because
Jason would rather be plucked from the sky by a literal Amazon than become a
small splat stain across the surface of the earth. “How's it going up there?”
He asked.
“The battle is over, we have proved victorious. Nightwing is attempting to land
the city without causing further harm.”
“You know,” a thought occurred to him. “If everyone else is wrapping up we
could go catch a movie or something.”
“I have seen a movie.” Donna said, although she didn't sound like she was
saying “no” exactly, more like she was asking “why?”
Jason laughed, “There’s more than one movie! New ones come out every week.”
“Really?” She asked.
“Yeah, didn't you see the previews before the other movie you saw?”
“There were no previews, the movie just began playing.”
“What? Where did you see this movie?”
“At the U.N. it was about rising economic inequality adversely affecting the
lives of women.”
“Yikes, boring. Set us down in Central City. We’ll watch an actual movie.”
To Jason's surprise she took him up on the flippant offer.
***
Bruce was on his way. Jason's desperate mind conjured up a fantasy of the dark
knight bursting through the door, cape flaring, boot smashing. Batman would
enter and like a wraith swoop from one end of the room to the other. He would
glance at the bomb and instantly know which mechanism to disable. He would see
that Jason had been close to freeing himself and gaze down at him with warm
approval. Then he would take Jason into his arms and get him some medical
attention and a whole lot of morphine.
Yeah right, he was fucked.
***
There was no training scheduled for today, no missions assigned, no superhero
therapy sessions, Jason was just at the mountain to hang out. He’d never been
out camping for fun until now. He’d slept outside, in parks even, out of
necessity before and he’d done some intense survival training with Batman but
it never would have occurred to him to hike up into the mountains and pitch a
tent for fun, it seemed like something only people in books or on TV would do.
Jason knew better than to bring any of that up.
It was interesting. They were only out here for one night and the base was just
a few miles away, which was like a short stroll for Kid Flash, so nobody took
it seriously. They were just out here for a change of scenery, it was just
something to do.
He and Dick raced to see who could build a fire from scratch first.
Surprisingly Jay won. Kid Flash asked if Batman's training involved dropping
them in the wild and seeing if they could make it back to civilization on their
own. He wasn’t that far off. “There was drone surveillance the whole time.”
Dick reassured his worried friend.
“That's not the point!” Shouted KF.
Aqualad laughed quitly. “There is a similar tradition in Atlantis” he said,
“but it is only for those who wish to prove themselves as warriors, and the
trial is voluntary.”
“It’s a great point of pride for military officers.” Added Garth.
“Well we won't be killing snakes with our bare hands and drinking our own piss
tonight.” Wally said to the disgust of everyone. “We are well stocked for
s’mores and hot dogs.”
“If there's anyone left who wants to eat after that vivid imagery, Kid Gross.”
Said Artemis.
Jason was more than content to hang back and watch the others sqwabble and
laugh and still somehow make dinner in between their antics. He listened as
they sang campfire songs he didn’t know the words to, and traded spooky stories
that devolved into retellings of their encounters with the supernatural.
Jason was able to back up Dick’s stories about the stranger corners of Gotham.
Where the city blocks blurred into each other and the street names became
illegible, parts that wouldn't show up on any map.
“It’s like catching the city before it can sweep all the strangeness into the
shadows when you wander into those parts.” Dick said.
“And you always wander.” Jason added. “You never deliberately get there by
like, taking 42nd to East Park, you just kind of slip into it. You’ll be
swinging along, just kind of in the vicinity and then you’ll look around and
BAM, you’re in the middle of freak town.”
“It doesn't like being called that.” Dick said, which was true.
“Dude, that’s…” Superboy said. “You’re making that up.”
“No man,” Dick laughed, “I’d offer to show you but if doesn't like…” his
laughter trailed off.
“It doesn't like outsiders.” Jason explained. “The alleyways would swallow you
whole. I’m actually kind of…” He didn’t want to insult Dick. He also didn't
want to really talk about this anymore. Jason had the strange feeling that the
twisted areas of Gotham would know he’d told their secrets and the next time he
ended up on those streets they wouldn’t appreciate it.
“What?” Asked M’gann
“Sorry, I, it’s stupid.” Said Jason.
“No way, bird boy,” prodded Artemis. “Out with it.”
“It’s really stupid.” Said Jason. “I was just kind of… Surprised you never had
any problems there, Nightwing. But, obviously you’re not a random tourist.”
Jason really wanted to stop talking about this, he was probably just freaking
himself out but he felt like the darkness beyond their firelight was looking a
bit darker.
“Yeah well” said Dick gamely, ”we can't all be born in the great city of Gotham
but she knows I consider her my home.”
Jason figured if it was good enough for Gotham it was good enough for him. It
was funny how even here, hours away and in the middle of her antithesis: wide
open nature, he could still feel her pulse. He was Gotham through and through.
Her alleyways had been his cradle, her shadows his blanket, and her favorite
son his salvation.
Dick had itchy feet. He was meant to travel the world even if his home was
Gotham. Jason wasn’t sure he could belong anywhere but his destructive, broken
city.
“Seriously,” said Garth, looking out into the darkness. “Enough about your
hometown.”
“Right!” Said Dick, clapping his hands to break the eerie mood. “Who wants to
hear about the time KF hit on Black Canary and got served?”
The group laughed and Wally squawked and like that the darkness was back to
being just normal darkness.
***
Jason was sorry. He was so fucking sorry. He didn’t really believe in a God or
an afterlife but he begged for forgiveness, with everything he was, with his
last words he begged for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, Bruce.”
***
His funeral was small, his coffin closed. Bruce put one of his spare costumes
in a case next to the computer, below it were the words “Good Soldier.” He also
put a grave on the manor grounds in the family plot, the words “Good Son”
chiselled into the stone. In Mount Justice The Team held a modest ceremony and
hung a picture, it wouldn't be until much later and after more fallen team
mates that that the grotto would be formally turned into a monument. Donna
returned to Paradise Island, feeling guilty for having been separated from
Jason in the cold and the snow. The Joker was beaten near to death but then
returned to Arkham Asylum. Jason's room was left untouched by Alfred, who could
not bring himself to move anything. In a few months Tim Drake would come to
Batman and inform him that he needed a Robin, and the world would move on.
Three days after Jason's death Talia al Ghul placed his body in her father’s
Lazarus Pit and he awoke.
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