about.a new neighbor arrives in town in the midst of a murder spree, but reader isn’t scared despite this new neighbor warning her.
warnings. small age gap, reader is of age, swearing, and mentions of murder
ricky rocks. this is to test the waters… next part will be a little frisky, but if this creates a negative outcome… i’ll let it be. this was also meant to be posted in october
well aren’t you a pretty sight.
dick always loved a pretty face. especially ones with doe eyes that shared a shy nature and kind hearted intentions. it made his heart swell and he couldn’t help but let it dwell on his mind the moment these feature entered his visions.
especially you.
oh,you.
the moment dick moved into this suburban area, he had expected nothing less than older couples waiting for their deathbed and newly started families with toddlers and golden retrievers that hosted block parties during july. it wasn’t something he was excited about, but it wasn’t something he minded. nothing that would bother him as he settled into a normal life; a life away from what chased him.
so, you; you and your wild eyes and smiling face was the last thing he expected within this newly paper cut life.
“i’m y/n,” your hand reached for his and he almost didn’t take it from how off putting your presences was.
“dick grayson,” his hands were cold and calloused and it almost made you jolt from your place on his porch. his facial features were rough with his lips pressed into a thin line giving you the impression your presences was unwanted with how unsure he was about you already.
it made you swallow roughly, diverting your eyes for a moment before removing your hand from his own, “i live next door, i’m just here to introduce myself and my parents.. even though my parents aren’t here,” you look back to him where his eyes were waiting for yours, full of skepticism, still trying to figure you out, still trying to decipher whether or not your presence was a threat. “welcome.”
welcome, indeed.
°•
the new life of suburbia suited dick rather well, more than he thought it would, and more than he would actually like to admit.
after your warm welcome, people had only then just begun to line and shake dick’s hand, welcoming him to the neighborhood. no matter how many people he met, he didn’t get used to it. he was still just as cold and as stiff when he first met you and it made you laugh as you’d watch from your porch swing.
it was more entertainment than a tv could bring; from the moment the door bell rang and you could see dick through his living room window let out a obvious and exhausted sigh, prying himself from his soft looking grey sofa, to the moment he’d have to accept the house warming gifts he could no longer deny. you shook your head as he had looked down at a pie neatly placed in his palms, looking completely disoriented as if he had no idea what to do with it.
“you’re supposed to eat it,” you called over to him, now fully drawing your attention away from your book, smiling in amusement as he slowly begun to look up at you; surprised.
“having fun over there?”
“much,” you shifted now on the porch swing you were sat on, trying your best to face him better. “i love watching people when they make there first encounter with another human being.”
he narrowed his brows, now seeming to walk closer to you with how much his deck allowed, “what’s that supposed to mean?” he set his pie down on the white railing so he could cross his arms, unintentionally flexing his tan biceps. it catches you off guard, your eyes now having a hard time deciding whether or not to focus on his face or his very.. hot arms..
“nothing,” you coughed, recovering, “it just seems like you’ve never met another person.. ever.”
the sound of a struggled laugh came from his mouth as he tipped his head down before looking back up at you, “that bad, huh?”
your face screwed up in enthusiasm, “just a little.”
he laughed a little, a genuine one that made your stomach jump in place. it was like only now you realized how attractive the man ten feet away from you was.
“you want this pie?” he lifted it up, motioning it your way to which you quickly denied, shaking your head.
“got one of those two years ago,” you kissed your teeth, “would not recommend eating.”
he smiled, nodding, “thanks for the advice.”
you could tell his sudden burst of socialism was dying as he shifted backwards on his feet, moving toward his front door. it made you frown but you moved faster than he could, making your own way to your front door, already waving him off, “well that’s what neighbors are for, dick grayson.”
he watched you close the door with a frown, a feeling of solitude instantly overcoming him with how abrupt that had suddenly became.
what was your rush?
°•
it was about another month till dick had had another interaction with you and he had found himself counting down the days till that moment.
life wasn’t so bright for him within those new days of a life he was still trying to get used to, but when he saw you; he felt quite opposite. until he shoved his foot down his throat, forcing himself away from the window where he’d see your face in the mornings.
but this interaction had occurred within the night where the sun was no where to be seen and the stars were what lighted up the sky. dick found it calming as he would stand outside for only a few minutes, allowing the cold and quiet midnight air to consume his skin- until it was disturb by you and your friends, sauntering up the sidewalk.
“your parents allow you out of the house this late?” he cursed at himself the moment his words filled the air, but he couldn’t help himself as he narrowed his vision on you, attempting to figure out how much of you was in their right mind.
you scoffed, taken aback by his question, “you’re not going to rat on me, are you dick?”
his lips twitch for a split second into an almost smile as he leaned forward onto his forearms on the deck railing. your words and head tilt reminded him of jason when he was much younger and filled to the brim with mischief.
“my parents are out of town, dick grayson,” you slaunted over to him, looking a little crooked and giving him the impression that you must have been tipsy. “not that it’s any of your business, but they’ll be gone till monday.”
it’s silent and he takes a moment to study your face; it being more brightened and filled with warmth from your red cheeks. you seemed more inviting, more relaxed, nothing could knock you from your high cloud at that moment and he could only guess it was from liquid courage, “you should come over sometime,” you smiled a little more, eyeing him just as he was you before leaning away and toward your house where your friends had already invited themselves in.
oh boy.
you were already so…
“you know it’s not smart to invite someone you don’t know inside,” he shift on his feet to face you where you had stopped to listen to his words, “especially with all that news going around about teenage girls getting killed because of their kind heart.”
you smiled to yourself before turning back around to face him, tilting your head once again in that jason-way, “i’m not scared.”
there was a large bearing within the month of october that lead to many women locking up their windows and doors tightly on fear of what laid outside. but even then, the reassurance of their locks and small security of closed drapes wasn’t enough as news of young women being targeted and murdered increased.
it was all over the news but still the least of your worries. you couldn’t see it, you couldn’t touch it, and you couldn’t hear about it if you avoided it well enough, so why worry? it wasn’t real until it was real.
“you should be,” dick nodded, his small smile gone and his face turned hard into stone and if you had noticed, you didn’t care and you didn’t let it show as you still smiled but shook your head. “it’s not safe for little girls like you.”
you scoffed, “i think the only thing i have to worry about is you.”
°•
your parents weren’t home by monday like promised, striking dick as strange, but you couldn’t help but care; enjoying the house to yourself. everything ran smoothly like it usually did; you woke up, you went to school, you came home, you did your homework and you watched tv.
it wasn’t until wednesday did you really worry and turned to your lovely next door neighbor for companionship.
and he was waiting.
“being in that big house all alone, of course you were scared,” he intended to sound teasing, a ghost of a smile riding up on his face, but you took him offense.
you were quick to punch his shoulder, “i’m not scared.” your eyes betray you as they shift around to the darkness of your neighborhood; they were slightly wide and practically pouring with ingenuousness. you suddenly looked a lot smaller than all other occurrences he had with you; no longer full with assertiveness nor any amusement.
“then i’m sure you don’t want to come inside-“
“don’t be silly, grayson, i know you’re all alone in here without me.”
he suppressed a smile as you made your way into his home as he extended the door open further, “i’m flatter you considered me to go to in this situation.”
“i mean you are more buff than my other neighbor sally,” you hummed examining the interior of his home with fascination, “i mean she is nearly 90, i expect you have more muscle mass than she does.” you look over to him to see a ghost of a smile on his face as he watches you quietly, “and you are the typical big-strong man that saves the day.”
“what?” his face screws up in confusion, willing you to explain.
“c'mon, grayson. you don’t see the way all the moms ogle at you in this neighborhood? it’s because you’re hot,” you shrug causing him to scoff. “and you are by definition the guy of every girls dream.”
he watches you sit comfortably on his chair while further explaining his role in every females mind. dick takes a seat on the couch, watching you with slight interest as you talked thoroughly–like this was something you thought about a lot.
“is that why you wanted me to come over?” he raised a brow and enjoyed the way your expression slightly dropped and turned red in embarrassment, not expecting him to be so blunt.
“very funny,” you try to play it off, but by the way he smiles, you know you’re caught. “i wouldn’t flatter yourself so much, dick. some of us are only trying to make friends.”
“really,” he raises his brow further, “is this what this is?”
“why wouldn’t it be?”
“you tell me.”
the two of you share a stare, one waiting for the other to break and let the truth loose–even as you were the only one with the ability to do this, you still waited, not wanting to break.
and you almost cracked too if it weren’t for the doorbell ringing.
about.jason questions you, only to find something out that he didn’t expect.
warnings.foul language, a little smut in the beginning
ricky rocks. lol i wanna kms
“you wanted this though, didn’t you jason?” you hiked up your plaid skirt with a devious smile, one that made his chest tighten. you plopped yourself down on his lap, so you were now straddling him, your hands on his chest as he seemed to try his best to lean away, but you had him trapped in that chair.
his breathing became strangled as he watched you and the way you seemed to get bored so fast before an idea flickered through your mind and you began to rock your hips back and forth with your barely clothed pussy rubbing against the rough lining of the zipper of his dress pants.
“i see the way you look at me,” your hips still slowly swayed in a circle as you tilted your head before closing your eyes as if a sudden wave of pleasure took over you, which wasn’t a lie with the zipper of his pants catching against your clit. “oh jason,” you groan, “i want you to make me feel good.”
he suddenly felt swallowed whole by everything of you and you’re scent of some fruity perfume. he had to stifle a groan with everything starting to get to him; the rotation of your hips that was slowly becoming painful against his increasing growing hard on, the small sounds of whimpers pushing past your lips, and even your hands that gripped his thin white tee-shirt for dear life.
“oh god,” you bit your lip before throwing your head back, one hand releasing his shirt before gripping your own, more specifically your breast that was peaking beneath the dangerously low half unbuttoned of your school shirt, begging for his attention. “oh, jason, please.feel how wet i am.”
before he could even think, your hand grasped his, placing it right beneath your skirt where your pantries were bunched to the side, giving attention to your bare cunt, indeed wet and desperate for his fingers.
“i want you to fuck me,” your hand released his and then clutched his zipper, pulling it down and then unbuttoning, revealing the white boxers that tried their best to conceal his obvious bulge. “fuck me, jason, please—“
—jason got up fast with a cold sweat dripping down practically every inch of his body. he looked around fast with flushed cheeks and a quick beating heart that he swore was going to crack his ribs. a feeling of absolute despair clouded his brain at the realization of everything that had just went down within his very own conscience.
“fuck,” he drug his hand down his face, wiping it from sweat and sleep, trying to face his mind straight.
for the past week all jason could think about was you. even without the whole part of you being looped into an ex drug and sex trafficking operation, you were always bearing in his mind with every fucking move you made.
he didn’t get you, he couldn’t figure you out at all.
even after going to bruce.
“you realize you’re putting us in a very bad position, right?”
“no, dick, i didn’t,” bruce didn’t show an inch of remorse nor surprisal as he tinkered with one of his gadgets.
“if what jason is saying, is correct, that could mean a number of things that could all lead to bad things,” dick had his hands held out, enunciating the best he could, like he was talking to a child, but bruce still didn’t look up nor show any real sign that he was listening. “things that could include a death.”
“no need to get dramatic, dick,” bruce shook his head while setting down his piece of work, finally looking up to his two sons who stared at him with serious statures. “you two are thinking way too far into this than you need to be.”
jason’s brows narrowed in as he stared at bruce in disbelief, “you do realize i killed her pimp.”
“i’m sure she’s grateful,” he turned in his chair, starting another project. “maybe ask her about it instead of being a crook and making it a larger deal than needed.”
the fact that bruce couldn’t care less annoyed him, further more leading jason to disperse from the house for another month—something you weren’t surprised by nor cornered, because you had no idea what was really going on.
you grew accustomed to jason’s absence and you found it a lot more enjoyable than you originally thought you would. especially since you could breathe without him questioning your next move.
jason, however, was finding it quite difficult without your presence.
“master todd, we didn’t expect you.”
jason disregarded alfred as he made his way in the mansion, nodding to his words, “don’t worry.”
“not staying for long, i guess?”
“who knows,” he trudged down the entrance of the foyer before making his way to the staircase that led to the bedrooms, picking out to yours. 
“c’mon, let’s go,” he opened your door without a knock, revealing you standing in the midst of your room, putting things away at your desk. “i’m only going to ask you once, let’s go.”
a strange look crossed your face as you stared at him, not knowing what to say, not really knowing what to do until he moves away from the door and back toward the stairs.
you follow him and don’t stop till he stands by his bike.
“you’re gonna have to tell me where we’re going if you want me to get on that with you.”
“what, you scared?” he hummed, pulling a helmet before offering it to you.
you slightly smiled, swaying on your feet, “no, not scared, just don’t trust you.”
jason scoffed, “you’re one to talk.”
“and you’re a saint?”
“just take the damn bike helmet and get on.”
“only if you let me drive it,” you eyed him up and down with a smirk.
“you wish, princess.”
**
“you initiating me into your gang or something?”
jason didn’t even attempt to answer as he rolled his eyes, continuing to lead you down the busy side walk where he soon walked into a diner that you hadn’t ever seen before.
you still paused, looking the building up and down in hesitation, your chest burning with the analyzation of the building. you had no choice to follow him in.
“you want to be friends now?”
“whoever said i didn’t?”
“i don’t know, it seems you have a strong repulsion when i come within five feet of you.”
“and you’re not the same way?” jason thinks of the revolting attitude you carry against him ever since the christmas party and he’s almost annoyed that you were trying to pin the hostile nature between the two of you on him.
“why’re you so concerned how i feel about you?” you leaned forward on your forearms, narrowing your brows on him.
you were being contradicting and he couldn’t tell if it was purposeful or not. either way, jason could feel his annoyance building up progressively and he was beginning to regret wanting to talk to you.
“maybe i find you intriguing,” it’s the best he could come up with as he shrugged simply, clasping his hands in front of him on the table top. “i mean ex-stripper, you gotta have some stories.”
any sign of amusement drops from your face as you now slightly glare at him, surveying his face, looking for what his game was.
“funny.”
“you think so?” he now leans back in the booth, more relaxed now that the conversation was going his way. “i think so. i think it’s really ironic too, you know? because of bruce and i also shutting that place down.”
“i think it’s really ironic that that’s where you brought me today,” you weren’t entertained at all, and at first you thought it was some coincidence that jason took you to this diner the that used to be the exact strip club you worked at before this conversation was brought up.
you were beginning to think it wasn’t a coincidence at all.
“funny.”
“you think you’re so smart jason todd,” you mirrored his slack position against your side of the booth, but everything about you was still tensed and annoyed. “maybe take time to actually read between the lines and not what was just on the police report.”
“there was no reading between the lines with your case, y/n. there’s millions that i’ve been through that mirror exactly yours with every minor detail. stay mad that i killed your pimp.”
“he wasn’t my pimp, asshole.”
“then who was he?” jason quirked a brow, “your manager? your friend? your boyfriend? whatever label you had on that man, it doesn’t change who he was. he’s still a guy who marked your body for prices.”
your face was screwed up, lines of slight confusion inking your expression as he spoke, “he was my father.”
about. in which a day at the country club proves to be more exciting than jason originally thought
warnings.swearing, catcalling/harassment
ricky rocks.
“nice shirt.”
jason slapped down his newspaper on the table before bruce, his eyes scoping out the country club around them. it made him shake his head at the ridiculousness of the privilege just seeping out from the sad traps. jason had never seen anything like it aside from bruce’s charity balls, but then, people were actually throwing there money around for a good cause, not just for the benefit of themselves.
“good to see you made it,” bruce put his own newspaper down, looking up at jason through his dark sunglasses, slightly surprised. it was always a guessing game with jason, a game bruce always seemed to win, but not this time. bruce knew country clubs weren’t really his thing, causing him to doubt the appearance of jason until there he was, in all his moody glory.
“yeah, yeah,” jason waved him off, still looking around and out past the balcony that they were seated on. golfers and tennis players filled the green around them, slagging around with their noses held high, “where’s the rest of them?”
“well, tim and dick should be teeing off right about now with the company of alfred. as for your lovely sister, she should be around here somewhere,” bruce craned his neck, looking around despite actually not looking around.
“finally done with her violence strike?”
“ended about a five hours ago after i offered her the keys to the old cadillac in the garage.”
“thought you were giving that to dick,” jason pulled out the chair across from bruce, finally content with his analyzation.
“i’ll buy him a keychain.”
jason nodded, taking a drink of one of the full glasses of water laying out on the table. sometimes bruce was tolerable enough for jason to enjoy, despite him not wanting to admit it, they were similar in a few variety of ways.
a relationship wasn’t exactly something jason loathed for with bruce. maybe towards the beginning of it all but that had slowly all melted away as time continued on and he begun to take the matters of gotham in his own hands. he didn’t… hate bruce as much as he thought he did, in fact he found him a bit more enjoyable after he adopted you, softer, and more.. understanding.
“hey, daddy,” you had pressed your lips against bruce’s cheek, welcoming him with more affection than bruce had probably received from all his other kids combined. it made jason look away and back at the course, shifting uncomfortably.
you were probably one of the brattiest girls jason had ever saw. you put up the front that you were innocent and simply didn’t know any better about half the shit you did. jason could see right through you and always wondered if bruce could. sure, the man was the king of seeing through psychological manipulation, but he had to of been the most whipped jason had ever seen him. buying you clothes that you didn’t need, driving you to school himself, spoiling you unconditionally, and giving you a car that wasn’t yours.
he truly loved being a father to a girl who didn’t want anything to do with the vigilante life, that way he could worry less about you and make sure to make more time with you doing things that had nothing to do with batman or robin.
“hey, jason,” you smirked at him, strutting to sit next to him.
he resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he pressed his lips into a thin line, eyeing you skeptically like he always did. he was sure you knew he could see right through your facade by the way you teased him every time you saw him, poking at him, smiling at him with that stupid smile that said you knew everything, but you didn’t care.
jason gulped down his water.
“how was the green?”
“hot,” you mumbled, pinching the front of your thin white blouse before waving it up and down as if allowing more air to touch your chest, “but i think i’ll head out again.”
“you should take jason with you.”
you smirked suddenly, your head gliding to face the side of jason face where he slightly froze, looking to bruce, “that’s a great idea.”
jason shook his head despite the pointed look bruce was giving him. fucking A.
you suddenly stood, grinning widely, “i think we should go now before it gets too crowded,” you looked down to jason who was avoiding your eyes, his jaw clenching at the fact he couldn’t get out of this one.
you begun to walk away after giving bruce’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze, then making sure to sway your hips a bit more, knowing just where jason’s eyes were, watching you. yes, you were bratty. you wore those stupid short and tight golf skirts specifically because of the fact it made your ass pop more than in a usual pair of shorts or skirt.
and the blouse, the thin material also being slightly translucent, highly sporting your black bralette. it was the first thing jason saw and he wished it wasn’t. he wished he could have taken it as an innocent move made by you, but he knew that was false by knowing exactly who you were.
“go, join her.”
“i’m not here to babysit, bruce.”
“jason,” bruce gave him a pointed look even though he knew fairly well that he couldn’t make jason do anything he didn’t want to do. “spend some time with your sister.”
“oh for fucks sake,” jason pinched the bridge of his nose before shoving himself up and out of the lounge chair, before pointing at the older man. “you owe me a car for this one.”
**
“you ever feel bad?”
“bad for what?”
jason had his arms crossed while watching you practice your swingings within the tee box. he watched you carefully while finding this interaction completely useless in the fact that he had no purpose of being there right then.
“for sucking bruce dry of his money.”
you rolled your eyes to yourself, “funny, you act like you never took advantage of the rich kid opportunities.”
“that’s because i didn’t.”
“i don’t believe you,” you swung your club, sending the ball far out in the air.
“it’s the truth.”
you let out a sigh as you walked back to where jason stood, switching up your clubs, “you’re telling me you never had a moment where you thought ‘i deserve this’ and just accepted an expensive item?”
jason frowned, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “i mean yes, but those moments didn’t turn into shopping sprees.”
“you’re just mad he actually makes time for me,” your club once again smacked against the clean white ball, producing an impressive shot that even jason admired.
“maybe i am-“
“nice shot, sweetheart.”
jason’s voice was overlapped with the sound of an older man who was two boxes over, smiling strangely. you ignored him just as jason did after staring at him for a moment before walking back to your golf bag in search of a tee.
“hey, i said nice shot.”
“i heard you,” but you didn’t look at him.
jason stared down to you, watching you struggle to find a tee as you aggressively dug through one of the side pockets before finally finding one and pulling it out with a sharp jerk, “happen a lot?”
“almost every time,” you mumbled with an irritated tone. “they usually leave me alone when dick’s with me—i think they think he’s my boyfriend and prefer not to get socked in the face.”
“not tim?”
“you think they’re scared of tim?”
“fair enough,” jason shrugged.
“you’re awfully rude.”
jason could see you visibly tense just as you were about to line yourself up. he glanced to the man who seemed to have drawn nearer, making it easier for jason to guess that the man had to of been around bruce’s age, maybe older.
“maybe accept the compliment.”
“maybe just lay off her, buddy.”
he scoffed, “who are you, her boyfriend?”
jason felt slightly offended that there wasn’t an instant strike of fear like there apparently was for dick in this man. this caused jason to straighten his posture better to bring light to how big he was.
“and what if i was?”
the man doesn’t say anything more, but rather turns away back to his own business.
“you don’t have to do that, they usually tend to bore themselves after you ignore them for awhile.”
jason quirked a brow, “it shouldn’t be a problem in the first place.”
“well that just means you’re not club material, jason todd.”
smack, another incredible shot.
“you ever think about playing in tournaments?”
“i’d say another great shot, but you’d probably insult me again, wouldn’t you?”
“hey, buddy, piss the fuck off,” jason twists from his stance that was relaxed, now practically barricading your body from sight the man had on you. “get a fucking life or prey on some other underage girl.”
the man scoffs, “yeah okay man, i was just offering the girl a compliment, but it seems neither of you can take it.”
the man unnerved jason as he stared at him like he was some idiot. it took everything in him not to sock him in the face, but jason kept it cool and didn’t let his feelings effect any nerve in his body.
he stood there until the man finally left before shifting away from your body, “you ever tell bruce about these guys?”
“eh,” you shrugged, once again adjusting your posture, “what’s bruce going to do, stare ‘em off like you and dick?”
“no, he’d probably get the guy kicked from the club.”
“he doesn’t care that much.”
jason rolls his eyes, hard, “that’s the most bullshit sentence i’ve ever heard. your bruce’s fucking angel.”
“doesn’t mean anything,” jason could hear a level of uncomfortableness itch through your throat as you tried your best to act inattentive.
it made him sigh before walking over to your golf bag and hauling it over his shoulder, “let’s go for a walk, i can feel that guys eyes drilling holes through your ass.”
you sighed reluctantly before shoving your driver into your bag, joining jason’s side, “it’s not that big of a deal.”
“yeah, okay,” he rolled his eyes, obviously taking zero consideration into your words. gotham was full of freaks who loved women half their age, it had to be a high percentage of people jason beat up. “tell that to the thousands of girls who get sexually assaulted each year.”
“i’m not getting sexually assault, jason.”
“yeah, but you’re being harassed by a man double your age.”
“lay off,” you rolled your eyes, “if you want to be helpful, help me put my clubs back in bruce’s car.”
“you need to take initiative at least once.”
“shut up.”
the first time you had ever met jason, you had felt a strange draw to him. he was full of anger, but kept it buried down into his soul. there was times he could barely control it, but you still felt a tie. seeing him made you feel anxious but glad until an unknown repulsion stemmed from him and you couldn’t help feel the same over time.
but today, today was strange. this new side of sympathy coming from him threw you off and you didn’t know how to feel.
“that’s his car,” you stopped suddenly, causing jason to almost run into you.
“how do you know it’s his car?”
“because he tried to pick me up like a hooker once,” jason’s brows narrowed by the way you said it so nonchalantly with a blank stare to the nice blue beamer—douche bag car.
“what’re you doing?”
“taking initiative,” he glanced at you as you pulled out one of your clubs from the bag he still held.
“what’re you doing?” he repeated, but knew exactly what you were doing as you marched to the front of the nice car before drawing back and slamming the driver onto the hood creating a clear and ugly dent.
he should have stopped you, he knew it. but there was just some satisfaction watching you repeatedly slamming the club into the car over and over till it didn’t even look remotely distinguishable. he smiled.
“this will be quite the dent in bruce’s bank account.”
“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” you mumbled, shoving the club back into your bag, “and no one will know if we don’t get caught.”
“we?”
“that’s right,” you now walked on, not looking back to see if he was moving with you, “you’re an accomplice now, todd.”
“of course i am,” he shook his head, but couldn’t help but smirk as he know found you a little bit more standable than before.
Jason ripped his hoodie off and flung it across the room, grabbing the booklet of instructions off the floor. His face twisted with rage. You’d both been at this for over three hours now and you’d only managed to get two legs into the bottom base.
“Who—WHO makes these things?”, he cursed, flicking through the pages, looking angrily at the diagrams of the bed frame.
“Why couldn’t they print actual instructions? WORDS.LANGUAGE. Why does it have to be fucking pictures? How hard can it be to WRITE down a set of instructions?!?!”.
You bit down hard on your bottom lip trying not to giggle at him. When you’d picked up the new flat packed bed, Jason had boasted about how easy it would be and didn’t need to pay the extra $100 dollars to have it built. He could do it in ‘no time at all’.
“It’s a joke”, he grunted and scrunched up the paper, casting it to the side, “It’s fine, whatever, I don’t need instructions—I can figure it out, easy”.
You smiled and knelt down on the floor next to a pile of wooden slats, handing him a fresh bottle of Coke, “Why don’t we take it back and get something different?”.
Jason scoffed, looking somewhat offended, “What? And admit defeat? I don’t think so”, he slipped the bottle from your hands and took a large swig, “We can do this”.
“We?”, you raised a brow in question, “I thought the almighty Jason Todd could do this all on his own within the hour?”, you grinned, quoting his own words back at him.
The corner of his eye twitched before his lips curved into a devilish smirk, “Princess, if it wasn’t for you and you’re insatiable appetite for me, we wouldn’t need a new bed at all”.
Your cheeks flushed red at the tease and you shoved his shoulder playfully, “Shut your face, Todd”.
“Make me”, he winked.
You rolled your eyes and went to grab the instruction pamphlet next to him but he caught your hand, easily pinning you down to the floor. You squealed in surprise before erupting into laughter.
“Jason!!”.
He chuckled, pressing his face into your neck. His growing stubble on his cheeks tickled your skin, making you shiver beneath him.
“Jaaaay”, you whined softly, “We need to finish making the bed”.
His plush lips danced along the bare skin of your neck, up towards the sensitive spot behind your ear. He slipped between your open legs, “I have a better idea”.
Summary: “Princess, you don’t mind Roy hanging out with us, do you?”. Jason avoided your eyes for a few moments, on purpose you knew. He was waiting for you to calm down. He knew that you couldn’t stand the auburn haired man Jason insisted was his best friend.
Warnings – Language. Smut. NSFW. Threesome.
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: Well today is the day. It’s my birthday!!! As I hit the infamous dirty thirty this year, enjoy this thirsty fic and celebrate with me.xoxo
“Princess…”, he rumbled in his dark velvet voice. It sent an erotic thrill down your spine.
“I’ve missed you Jason”, you slinked over to him on your hands and knees, rising up and pressing your face against his thick thigh. The fine fabric was cool yet you could feel the heat of his skin radiating beneath your cheek. The masculine power pulsed from his muscles. You could feel your core dampening with anticipation.
“Did you now?”, Jason patted your head as you inched closer to his burning crotch. You could make out the outline of his hardening cock. You could even smell the earthy musk of him. Your insides quivered.
“Or was it my cock you missed?”.
You rubbed your face into his crotch, feeling it throb and swell, smiling at the small groan Jason made as you gently mouthed the outline of the thick shaft though his slacks. Dry mouthed, you licked your lips and swallowed. Excitement dancing like live wires through your veins.
“Both”, you hummed and looked up at him with an impish gleam in your eyes.
Summary: “Princess, you don’t mind Roy hanging out with us, do you?”. Jason avoided your eyes for a few moments, on purpose you knew. He was waiting for you to calm down. He knew that you couldn’t stand the auburn haired man Jason insisted was his best friend.
Warnings – Language. Smut. NSFW. Threesome.
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: Well today is the day. It’s my birthday!!! As I hit the infamous dirty thirty this year, enjoy this thirsty fic and celebrate with me.xoxo
Jason Todd is lost in an unknown realm light years away from Earth.
With not much hope to find his way back, his only companion is a cruel alien cyborg from the enemy fleet, one he’ll have to get along with to survive.
A/N: I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S OVER. THIS SERIES TOOK ME THE LONGEST TIME BUT I WAS SO SO PASSIONATE ABOUT THIS TO EVEN MIND. THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING AND I LOVE YOU
WORDS: 18000 WARNINGS:GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MIND CONTROL, BRAINWASH, MEMORY LOSS, NSFW SEXUAL CONTENT
Like the headlights that blind as death holds them to his face, the eyes that stared at him were as cold and empty as any blank red bulb. As they glowered like a sniper’s scope, she was gone. N/N lied through her teeth with her last words. Her humanity detached itself from its already weak ties; her face was as deathly as a gun’s smoking muzzle, ready to place a bullet between the eyes that crossed her.
A boom tube that lasted that long couldn’t have taken him anywhere near earth at all.
This wasn’t Planet Earth.
This was somewhere far, far away.
She limped to Jason’s side, looking at the three suns setting peacefully. It was a beautiful sight. And he would have marveled over it if his heart hadn’t already dropped beneath his feet. She was silent. And tired.
But even as his body told him so, he didn’t feel like resting anytime soon.
WORDS: 10,270 | TW: VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF PAST TRAUMA
“I’ve never met anyone who looks at the sky as much as you do.”
That made him snicker, and not just through a breath out his nose. Jason let out a hearty, soft chuckle from deep in his chest, and it caught more than just her attention.
WORDS: 11,262 | TW: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, DEATH
“Heal him,” she growled again. Anyone who heard her might have also been convinced it was that easy at all, the doctor included. His fingers were trembling when he touched Jason’s frozen head, neck, and chest.
Jason Todd is lost in an unknown realm light years away from Earth.
With not much hope to find his way back, his only companion is a cruel alien cyborg from the enemy fleet, one he’ll have to get along with to survive.
A/N: I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S OVER. THIS SERIES TOOK ME THE LONGEST TIME BUT I WAS SO SO PASSIONATE ABOUT THIS TO EVEN MIND. THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING AND I LOVE YOU
WORDS: 18000 WARNINGS:GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MIND CONTROL, BRAINWASH, MEMORY LOSS, NSFW SEXUAL CONTENT
Like the headlights that blind as death holds them to his face, the eyes that stared at him were as cold and empty as any blank red bulb. As they glowered like a sniper’s scope, she was gone. N/N lied through her teeth with her last words. Her humanity detached itself from its already weak ties; her face was as deathly as a gun’s smoking muzzle, ready to place a bullet between the eyes that crossed her.
Or crossed Z’arr. She had no thoughts. She had no feelings of anguish, vengeance, or anger. She was a machine powered by the hands of another, a robotic puppet no different from a remote-controlled toy truck. An android.
“Are you in the mood for a show?” Z’arr asked his men. They cackled in response and one of them clubbed the back of Jason’s head with his pipe of an arm.
All it took was a tap on Z’arr’s wrist, a control display that completely rid his precious N/N of her own mind.
A Kryptonian. And no other.
The machinery that held her arms opened, and before the rest of them could even hear the smoke exhaust, N/N obliterated the glass with her fists and leapt for the weakened Jason.
His back couldn’t possibly have broken that many walls on its own, but N/N held him by the shoulders, pushed without the aid of the wind to fly. With gravity being a feeble force no match for her strength, she threw Jason four rooms down.
Had his heart found its way to his head?
Because it was throbbing like one, like fists rattling a steel cage with an agitated gorilla calling for help.
But the blood had reached his eye sockets. For so long, all he could see was the red that spilled from his hairline; the stinging iron that would not leave his tongue. His back should have been in pieces. Perhaps it was, and that his flesh had the cruelty to hold itself together while none of his bones were intact.
He coughed a mouthful of blood. Around him, cyborgs were fleeing out of the food room. Some stayed, watched as if entertained. Some in horror. It was no different from the nosy crowds back at home.
Something grabbed him by the collar on his back, lifting him up so he hung like he was in the gallows. Jason clawed relentlessly at the static tightening in his neck, then he laid eyes on N/N who held him up like he weighed the same as feathers.
Her cold, red eyes. Nothing terrified him more. And she wanted him to have a slow fall into death’s arms, when he could feel his life being torn from his lungs. Jason reached for her arms, her shoulders. “N/N…”
Nothing. That was no longer her name.
“Please-“
It should have been a bullet that hit his chest, but nothing sliced his skin. Instead, it was her fist-with the might of an elephant’s foot leaving a crater on soil. The back of his head soon met a wall.
The shooting pains in his ribs stretched to every nerve stubborn enough to hold on. Already, N/N was in front of him, her feet not even touching the ground as she flew, then she held Jason by the neck to the wall.
“N/N,” he cried, “please. Please, it’s me…”
One hit to his ribs. Another to his face. The words only seemed to agitate her more. He couldn’t tell what was in his lips-if it was blood, sweat, tears, or all three. His jaw had broken by the third hit.
“Enough talking!” Cyborg voices echoed from outside. “Fight back, earthling!”
His body was skidding across the floor. Each time he rolled over his back, his bones punctured further into his lungs.
“He’s not even hitting back!”
“Is he crying?!”
More blood left his mouth. As his arms struggled to hold him above ground so it wouldn’t further shatter his bones, N/N slammed her foot against his back and for once, his screams were all to be heard. His vocal chords had distorted and he couldn’t even recognize his own cries.
Only once did he have this many bones broken before.
Just once.
That night.
But this time, it was worse. Because what gouged through his throat to rip his soul out was no one he hated. It was N/N. N/N.She was doing this to him.
This wasn’t her. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t her.
With the side of his face cementing itself to the cracking ground, he could move only his eyes. There was a wall in front of him: a wall tainted with his blood.
Still, his heart, granted with too many chances at life, would not easily slip away. His eyes trailed up to his assailant, a beautiful cyborg with the hands that once held him so gently, now watched his face distort as her foot dug further into his spine.
No pain was greater than having both the mind and body shatter all at once.
“Enough.”
A push of a button.
That was all it took.
N/N stopped and stepped away. She was as stiff as an object, a piece of machinery, standing still and upright just as Z’arr approached them from behind.
“What’s another assessment, earthling? It is the test before we’d bother to replace your parts.”
The Martian did not kneel to his side and only looked down on him like he was dead pest on the ground.
“You’re a stubborn one. We can work with that,” he turned to his me. “Take him back to his cell.”
That night, the pain could not lull him to sleep like it tends to. Everything was silent. Everything was deafening.
—–
She shattered all ten of his ribs.
More than that, he was sure. He couldn’t, quite literally, lift even a finger.
His breaths were counted. Even with shards of his own bones puncturing his lungs, he forced himself to breathe. Every time he did, it was like driving a knife further down his chest.
Nothing had ever been so broken within him that he wished death would just waltz in invited, but he wasn’t allowed that. Not this time.
N/N broke him.
N/Ndid this to him.
But it wasn’t her.
But it was her.
Always. She’d always been so capable of being so cruel. How was this any different from how she treated him the first time they met?
If only she were as capable at the Watchtower or at the deserts as she was now, he wouldn’t have died differently than in the pitiful state he was in.
One dose of their magical serum wasn’t enough. They had to come in and inject him twice for anything to work. Apparently, they never had a recruit with as much damage from an assessment as he did.
They never had N/N for a torturer either.
Days after, or perhaps it had only been hours, Jason had healed. The pain was still there, of course. And even when it no longer hurt to breathe, it hurt to still exist, to live.
From within his cell, he could only sit and watch as they did the same atrocities to Roy as they did him. Only less, since he was no Lazarus-enhanced earthling. But he was strong all the same and they deemed him worthy for a few parts. His eyes and arms especially. The better to shoot arrows with, dear.
When they left Roy with the serum snapping his bones back into place, he had the strength to look up to his friend. He should be furious, screaming at him for even having the heart to just sit and watch. Hell, Jason didn’t even have the decency to look away.
But he was just as quiet.
Even he knew Jason was long gone, even with all the wounds healed and fixed. He was shattered and no serum could ever fix that. This test wasn’t to see if their bodies were capable. It was to rid them of their humanity and hope.
He was only sorry he couldn’t save Roy, like all the other times their shenanigans were only saved by the strike of luck. Roy stared at Jason for the whole of the night. He accepted this. They’d accepted death. If only it was the same as dying, it would have been okay.
His Red Hood helmet disturbed the darkness with a beeping red light, as it did when it received a message from its transmitters. He didn’t hold it up to his head, but he at least had the strength to listen.
“JASON. IT’S ME, ORA. WE’RE GONNA GET YOU OUT. YOU AND ROY KEEP YOURSELVES ALIVE UNTIL WE-“
Deleted the message before it even finished. This was delusion at this point.
As if it wasn’t her doing, Jason closed his eyes and let the last lingering memories of N/N and her smile bring him that momentary peace. It lasted the night, almost as if her arms were close around his shoulders.
By the end of it, there were other hands that grabbed him, leading Jason out of his cell. There was no saving him. There was no saving this.
They made the hallways as narrow, cold, and empty as possible as if they purposely wanted their hope to further become ash. They held his arms behind his back, as if it were needed when Jason hadn’t the strength to even speak.
They passed a room where the cyborgs stood eerily still, without the mind to at least twitch.
A cyborg with the face of a beautiful blue-skinned alien was being rid of her arms, replaced with the same as the Brainiac’s androids. Beside her was one who’d already gone too far to be saved, a friend of hers that no longer had a face, but a cold, empty skull he’d seen far too many times. Soon enough, they’ll be supply for Brainiac’s next invasion.
He couldn’t understand the thin cyborg-with the same built as a grasshopper-holding a holographic clipboard. From the looks of Jason’s anatomy projected above the screen, they were replacing a whole lot of him, more than they should. His arms, already so large, looked double its size. The cybernetic replacements for his thighs looked deadly enough to snap three necks at a time. His brain would be completely ripped from his skull and his chest no different from a steel shell of a machine’s engine. His handsome face would be no more, and instead by a faceless plate of metal with two slits for eyes and a mouth nothing more than a dent. It looked exactly like the Red Hood.
His heart: a cold piece of fuel, like the battery of a ship.
His hands, most of all, no longer looked to be of a human’s. In place of fingers, palms that flushed red of his blood, he had blasters out of his wrists; guns like the ones Bruce repeatedly told him not to use. Karma was not just a bitch. She was sadistic, too.
A tank. Of course. They wanted to build him to be a tank. Like N/N.
He all but rolled his eyes.
The room they took him in had a pod where he’d lie down. They strapped the large man to the bed, even when he showed no restraint. Above him was a blinding white light: the last he’d ever see with the eyes he had now.
He always did think he had pretty eyes. Blue. Like the dust clouds of a nebula on the black skies.
Jason closed them, wanting the feel of his fluttering eyelids to last. Then he let the dreams play out: the dreams of home. The visions were peaceful, gentle.
He thought those visions would stop when they’d drill a screw into his skull.
But it stopped when no other than a sudden flash of fire that scorched the room in black, dispersing ash. Then there were the shrieks of frantic pigs, or the horrified cries of birds.
His eyes shot open when the fire hit too close to his face. Once more, his blood was pumping like it only took then for anything to wake him. He struggled with the shackles but couldn’t move. The fire killed more of his captors. The only one who lived was the grasshopper who put up no fight and instead, curled at the corners of the room begging Ora to spare him.
She did, thankfully. Ora shed her disguise as one of Jason’s guards and sighed as her mohawk almost touched the ceiling. “We don’t have much time,” she said, already throwing Jason his helmet and weapons. “We’ll get you out of here.”
Was this that very delusion?
Should he take it?
The Fleet did an awful good job making sure there was none of that, even when hope was being served on a shiny platter with a bib around his neck.
Ora tore the shackles apart. “Come on-“
“Are you sure?” Jason asked. If it were any other case, they’d already be out the door. This was the days of mental torture talking. “We can’t get out of this-“
“Aya has Roy. A ship is waiting for us. Let’s go-“
“Why are you helping me?”
Ora shook him by the shoulders.
“N/N made me promise. That enough of a reason for you?”
N/N.
N/N.
No prison cell could keep her down.
Or at least, stop her from saving Jason one last time.
Ora didn’t wait for Jason to object. She sped out the door, shooting fire out of her hands at anything that moved. The alarm blared through every speaker in the Station, and already, he could hear the many cyborgs coming in from the ceiling, the corners, even the floor.
“Ora,” Jason pleaded when his legs grew too weak, “N/N is too strong-“
“I know you’re afraid of her,” Ora held Jason by the waist, “we all are. There’s no one in this ship with half her strength.”
“I wasn’t going to say I was afraid, but that was reassuring.”
“Let’s just hope we don’t have to run into her.”
When her fire could no longer melt the steel, they ran by foot out of the food room for the hangars. The walls suddenly broke down at the might of a Mace of the strongest metal.
Aya shielded herself from the flying debris with her gigantic metal wings. At her side, strapped like a babe, was Roy shooting arrows at incoming cyborgs they didn’t even see.
He raised a hand to Jason like a salute. Then Jason grabbed his guns from his hips.
Roy jumped to his side and they paved their dangerous ways into the rubble. Soon enough, the ruckus would reach the Captain and they couldn’t afford to allow them the time. Aya grabbed them both by the collars, Ora used her fire to free their path, and Jason and Roy shot at anything that even moved. The androids for Brainiac, the cyborgs that looked still too similar to him, all crowded to stop them.
But they reached the hangar, thankfully, after breaking down several walls. The ship couldn’t possibly have lasted, and the floor quaking beneath them only sealed that. Finally, as if a rush of air was there to greet them, they reached the main deck where the plasma ceilings distorted the vast, open skies; the stars singing their misses for Jason as he realized it’d been days since he last saw them.
Ora started for a ship that would have immediately left the terminal. It was then. Hope. As easily as it’d left him, his soul rushed to every ends of his body until there could only be that haste to save themselves.
That ship, however, did not even get to say its finalities. Hope had a little setback as everyone with a sense stood stiff in helpless fear.
N/N shot from the sky, or wherever she came from, with her red, unblinking eyes much like the burn of a star. Her feet landed on the ship itself and it posed no fight nor chance against her weight. The whole ship broke down beneath her; not even with a dent or a crater. It exploded like a canon shot through the whole of it until it was nothing but ash and flying debris, fire catching like a warm, dramatic welcome.
N/N,the Cyborg, grabbed what was left of the ship and tossed it until it drifted out into the vacuum. Like waves parting for a terrifying deity, the fire subsided and the other cyborgs, a whole army of them, stood at the side.
Earthlings stood no chance. That wasn’t a question.
Tamaranians and Thanagarians could. They were strong by themselves.
But against a Kryptonian?
Perhaps not even the Justice League could easily get out of this, like they hadn’t when the whole team went against Clark.
Silence.
Like death in space.
Like the stars that made no sound.
Or the hovering asteroids that wouldn’t whisper even as it collided with its own brethren.
Ora shot what she could out of her palms. But the flames were subtle. Scared.She was so terrified of her own friend, she couldn’t even hold the sweat from extinguishing her own flames.
Aya was no different. Perhaps out of everyone, she feared N/N the most. The largest, most capable being out of the ones on his side, the mace on her hand was shaking like something quaked her.
Jason and Roy. The supposed helpless earthlings. They should be afraid. For what was left out of their lives, they should at least anticipate what would come.
The glowing red eyes had set them as targets. N/N stood unmoving, arms stretched and ready to pounce like a waiting lioness. Her feet looked unshaken even with the ground beyond repairs beneath her.
Help her. Save her.
The voice that echoed, he hoped to ignore.
At Z’arr’s unspoken command, N/N tore through the winds like a bullet shot out of a large gun.
He wasn’t spared the warning of at least having seenher move. The next thing he knew, Jason was pinned to the wall several yards away. His back tore a crater once again, but the pain thankfully didn’t have to last. As he stared at N/N’s eyes, bright enough that it hurt to look, there was nothing but blankness. Not N/N. M-812
Aya’s mace reverberated through the whole part of the ship. The impact was so large, so loud, the clang of metal sounded the same as a ship crashing on cold grounds. To the side of her head, finally, something was strong enough to throw N/N off her stance.
Then her aim was set on Aya, a grit showing that it at least hurt. N/N and Aya pounced at each other like two panthers at a brawl from opposite ends of the ship. No wind stood a chance in their way.
Jason fell but he didn’t wait for the rest to come for him. Not with the cyborgs and half-done androids coming for them. Ignoring everything in him that shattered, he shot at anyone and anything, hiding behind a large cart that’d been thrown to its side.
Roy was at the other side of the hangar, shooting at the bots that flew over his head. Some of the arrows struck just the right place for it to come crashing to the floor. The others that missed, he sadly could no longer retrieve when it escaped out of the plasma walls and out drifting into space.
He could last like this. He could survive the thousands of cyborgs. With a blaster or two and a best friend who stuck to his side, they could last.
But what happened above them was infinitely more interesting.
Aya’s wings shot her miles above the plasma threshold. Holding her throat, N/N did not scream. The wings that flapped like a hawk caught in a storm blurred what they could make out of the scene. The shards where the feathers should have been were terrifying. They pounced for N/N’s skin, but none could pierce it. Aya flew them both further to the sky as N/N thrashed in her hold. When Aya threw her off, immediately she clubbed her with the mace to her head before N/N could recover.
Unfortunately, it was all she could manage. Aya couldn’t keep up with N/N as she narrowly drifted and swerved away from the mace.
Aya was too slow. When she lunged herself forward, N/N threw herself to grab the Thanagarian by the shoulders, squeezing until the metal crushed beneath her fingers. Then she spun, fast enough for a whirlwind to appear even in a vacuum. Aya was thrown back to the ship with an impact that engulfed a part of it in flames.
Ora had only just held off an army of androids from her tail when she looked up, knowing she was the next target.
Up.
Up.
N/N.
She hovered like a star and shone like one.
Like the Kryptonians Jason knew before her, she was flying over the ship. To no force that could pull her to the grounds. To no wind that could stand in her way; like a deity, like a god who saved, only she wasn’t. She floated above their heads, fixating her aim on Ora.
Ora thrusted herself up like a rocket. A blast was enough to hold her off, for a while, but N/N escaped the dark flames unscathed without even her skin twitching from the burn. The red from her eyes shone through the ash and she soar from yards up the ground like a failing comet, a light trailing behind her as she dove, and grabbed Ora by the throat.
They disappeared beneath the ship’s deck, destroyed as they shot down stories below and obliterating everything in their way. Past the floors, breaking at each impact of Ora’s back; the hole on the ground was enough to quake the whole ship, and for how large it was underneath, it took minutes long before they exploded out of the hull below.
Somehow, Ora lived through that. She was fleeing back up to the heights above the Station, even with it slow to collapse possibly into two halved pieces. Her shots of fire did no damage and her punches couldn’t make even a dent.
When N/N threw her miles from where they hovered, Ora propelled herself with powerful thrusters bursting past the lack of light. And with that built strength and speed, she pushed N/N off her steady hover until her back ultimately met with Aya’s mace.
The Earthlings on the hangar, surviving with whatever thread of a life they could helplessly hold onto, would soon run out of ammo and arrows. Thankfully, they’d put up a fight against the relatively weakercyborgs. If Jason had the sense to be sarcastic, he’d joke about being the baby. When Roy rushed to his side of the cart to hide with him, however, he beat him to that.
“How does it feel not being the big guns for once?” Roy screamed.
“It’s a fucking treat!”
The battle above to the stars and the one below it was the kind of chaos that shouldn’t have lasted as long as it did.
When N/N had her attention set on Aya, she flew them away from the ship to the stars none of them could see.
Then Ora fell to their side, shielding Jason and Roy before the cart that protected them lost its stretch of life. They rose from their place on the ground.
“The lower decks!” Ora cried through the screams. “Get the Mother Box!”
“What?!”
Ora overheated an android just before it would have come for Jason.
“The Mother Box! He can save N/N!”
She didn’t need to say more.
Jason and Roy might as well have held hands when they paved their way through the unforgiving crowd of debris, laser blasts, and even limbs thrown to their direction. He shot his blaster, praying the ammo wouldn’t die until they’d reached inside the ship, and Roy used the last of his arrows and even picked up stray rods from the ground to shoot at the cyborgs.
Through the hole N/N made on the main deck, Roy stuck an arrow to the floor, fashioned a rope to its end as quick as a boy scout tying a knot, and they suspended themselves down to the collapsing floors and slabs that was almost falling out of their beams. Just before someone cut the ropes, they fell to the lower deck and they rolled to extinguish the fire on their clothes.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“Just run!”
More tailed them. Some flew. Some crawled like insects. One thing was for sure: too many of them were after a couple of earthlings supposedly posing as no threat. They blindly shot behind them, but as they reached a hallway that curved corners like a maze, not a lot of them could keep up.
When one android grabbed Jason by the foot, Roy had blown up its head with an arrow that short circuited its brain, frying the rest of its body until it was limp on the floor. Another jumped for Roy, and with Jason being larger, he kneed the cyborg to the stomach, shot its head with a blast between the eyes.
A large door at the farthest end of the hallway; probably meant to hold a prized prisoner.
As he should be.
And it was open. Someone was inside.
The incoming mob was growing. Only instead of actual pitchforks being thrown their way, their hands morphed into steel shards like the ends of a knife and they pounced for the earthlings’ flesh. “Hide!” Roy screamed, and they rushed behind the door, bolted it shut before a hand would have grabbed their throats.
Jason didn’t know if locking the door would be any help without thinking of how the fuck they were going to get out of that place.
But it was the least of their worries when the silence overcame the conundrum. Jason tapped on Roy’s shoulder to calm him. He was not calm. None of them should be calm. But they were quiet, unlike their beating hearts.
Captain Z’arr hovered like a ghost. His face, sharp as if his chin could cut steel, was as unmoving as his glare on them. His eyes were red, but they didn’t glow like lights. They were blank and dark. And in his hand, the damned scepter with a shred of Kryptonite encased near the tip.
Roy drew an arrow from his quiver, only having so much left behind, before Jason held out an arm to stop him.
Behind Z’arr was the very answer to this discourse: the bright, blinding beacon that so suddenly filled Jason with the needed hope.
It was all so tragic.Of course, the Fleet of cyborgs would want him. A Cyborg that could change bank numbers at just a thought, who had a connection to every artificial intelligence or anything with a circuit board in the universe.
Whose physical strength was just the tip, the verytip, of what he could do.
Perhaps the King of all Cyborgs.
Victor Stone had grown thin and worn. Whatever horrors they’d put him through, months after he was last seen, it’d taken its horrific toll. He posed a fight, that was certain, but he was alive. He was intact.
He was asleep, stuck to the wall with his arms outstretched like the Vitruvian Man.
Had they rid him of his humanity? Of his mind? Had they already done their damage enough that saving him would only risk the whole universe?
His face, bruised from unspeakable horrors, did not answer. But it moved as if to take a breath. Cyborgs didn’t have to breathe if they weren’t programmed to.
They could save him still.
Z’arr hovered to them, and the wall stopped Roy and Jason from backing up any further.
“We might be pretty fucking useless out there,” Jason gulped, “but I wouldn’t underestimate us against you.”
The Martian did not laugh. “I would not underestimate me either, earthling,” he grinned. “You might know of my kind-“
“Yourkind, who you were supposed to fight with for your own planet,” he shot at him.
Z’arr took no liking to his knowledge of his history. “Watch your tongue.”
“Or what?”
“Iam the Captain of this Fleet-“
“And you are a weakling who sucks up to superiors by sacrificing his own men. And you’ve done it twice.”
Z’arr shot a shard of metal he got from God knows where at their direction, and it bounced off the steel door before Roy and Jason separated.
“You do not know of what you speak-“
“I know exactly what I speak.”
Roy, at the other side of the cell’s holding, hid behind the crates and desks while Z’arr shot another slab of metal at Jason.
“You betray the Green Martians,” Jason shot with his blaster, “and now you betray the Fleet-“
Z’arr flew to where he thought Jason hid, but the asshole somehow made it to the ceiling, and he jumped for Z’arr with a knife to his shoulder. Z’arr shrieked before he pried it out, but Jason already hid somewhere he couldn’t see.
“First the White Martians, now Brainiac? Is you being a suck up ever going to stop?”
“Enough!”
Z’arr swung his Kryptonite scepter at Jason as if the rock had any effect on him.
“Face it. You’re no Captain.”
Blasters shot for Z’arr’s shoulder. His ear-piercing shriek almost threw him off.
“Iamthe Captain.”
“A Captain leads his army to war,” Jason said, “All you do is throw your loyalty around because you can’t protect yourself, even at the cost of your own men.” Another knife thrown at Z’arr’s shoulder. This was too easy. “You’re the biggest coward in the galaxy, Z’arr.”
That surely set him off.
The Martian cried but no longer to fight the pain. None of the crates could hold him, and as Jason managed to lift one over his shoulders, throwing it at Z’arr’s direction, it merely passed through his body as if he were made of air. Right. Martian. Almost forgot they could do that.
Z’arr grabbed him by the shoulders, pinned Jason’s body to the wall just at Victor’s side. His punches were strong, though none he hasn’t already seen. Jason grabbed his fists, twisted it enough to make him lose his hold. He struggled. He shook. It was enough.
“You are of no worth, a brat owned by that annoyance of an earthling, the Batman,” Z’arr growled, “do not underestimate me.”
“I think I overestimatedyou.”
“Have you always been this much talk, you insect?” his static voice eerily crept to his ear. When Jason grabbed him by the throat, he snarled back.
“My guy, that’s the point.”
Z’arr looked at him quizzically amidst their struggle for power.
“You know what the Batman taught me?” Jason grinned, “Keep your enemies talking.”
The realization hit him like a brick.
Roy had unknowingly placed bombs all over the walls and crates that scattered around Z’arr. All it took was for Jason to kick him to the ground, brace for cover, then Roy shot at the trigger. At the slightest impact of the arrow’s tip to a bomb that wasn’t even an inch in size, the whole side of the wall exploded into bursting flames: the one thing Z’arr could not stand.
He disappeared into the cloud of smoke and the flares too bright for them to see through. Maybe he perished, burnt to a crisp. It sounded that way when his shrieks were as painful to hear as a knife being driven into their drums. When the explosion subsided and the room was covered in debris, their first instinct was to rush to Victor.
“You alright?” Jason asked Roy.
“I’m fine. How do we wake him up?”
Any wrong touch could be lethal to Victor.
What they did to the holding cell, however, didn’t afford them the chance to find out. There was a lever, much like the throttle for a ship, that was pushed way up on the control panel. The rest of it were buttons he no longer understood. That red lever looked to be the obvious answer.
Without warning, Jason pulled that lever down.
The tubes that held Vic to the wall exhausted open, with month-old smoke spewing out of the many cracks. Only a tube that clawed itself to the back of his head held onto Vic. He fell to the ground, the rest of him thankfully unhurt, but he was cold and unconscious.
“Come on, Vic, wake up.”
“We got company.”
The door burst open at last with a whole mob coming for them. “Cover us,” he told Roy.
The tube to his head. That was what reprogrammed N/N.
But Vic was a Mother Box. They couldn’t have possibly reprogrammed him so easily.
It was a stretch that could go horribly wrong, and none would forgive him even himself. But there wasn’t the time, and the rest of the cyborg army was getting too much for the archer to handle.
With his bare hands, Jason pried the tube from Vic’s skull, its claw shooting sparks when it finally detached.
Vic gasped for breath like he’d been held to the ocean for months, the air to his lungs bringing color back to his skin which had grown so noticeably lifeless.
Shit.
Shit.
Vic shot up to his feet and threw Jason to the wall. Roy ran for cover.
It wasn’t Vic. It was his armor’s defense system.
The mob of cyborgs stood stiff at the sight of the Mother Box. Mindlessly, Vic’s first instinct was to fire at anything that posed a threat.
As long as they didn’t move, they’d be fine. “Roy, hide!”
They took cover behind the crates. All he could see was this blinding beacon out of Vic’s machine arm that tore through every shape of matter that stood its way. Some escaped, leaped from its way before the shot would have completely burnt their bodies to ash. Vic did not stop until none of the mob was left behind.
When it subsided into smoke, there was silence.
Jason and Roy peaked from over the crates and Vic had fallen to the floor, grabbing his head. “Vic-“
Victor aimed his arm at them, instinctively anxious. They raised their hands to surrender and with a voice the friendliest it could be, something Vic could recognize, Jason hummed.
“It’s us. Jason. Roy Harper. You know us.”
“Stay away-“
“Jason Todd.” He tried reaching out but Vic only kept with his aim.
“It’s us. You’re Victor Stone.”
Another throb in his head threw him off his stance. Vic fell forward, clawing at his skull like it was gnawing at his bones. His screams were as low as whispers, but spoke the same pain. When Jason rushed to grab him by the shoulders, Vic no longer threw him away.
“It’s us. We’re here to help. Please, Victor.”
When Jason held his head, as if it were any help to ease him, Vic met his eyes.
“Jason. It’s me. Jason.”
His eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. They spoke to Victor when they had him in their hold. Perhaps it was a reminder of the oceanic blue of Earth, or the homely gaze of welcoming arms.
“J-Jason?”
“Yes.”
He hugged Victor. He never hugged him before. But it was the first of what he needed.
“Jason…”
“What did they do to you, Vic?”
“I-I was…” he choked, perhaps still contemplating if he spoke at all, “t-they took me, did all these tests…”
“Do you remember anything?”
“I remember everything.”
When his voice dipped into that recognizable depth, he knew it won’t be long before they had their friend back
“We need your help.”
“Jason, we have to go,” Roy said when he looked out of what was left of the door. Jason reached for Vic’s arm. “I can walk,” he insisted, pulling himself on his feet.
“I hope you can do more than that, pal.”
When Roy and Vic headed out the door, Jason set his eyes on the Kryptonite scepter left unmoving amid the debris.
And every voice of reason begged him to take it, if their lives meant anything to him at all.
If they meant more to him than N/N.
But it wasn’t N/N anymore.
That thing could kill her.
She’d never forgive him.
He’ll never forgive himself.
They didn’t need it. They had Vic.
But Vic was no Kryptonian.
He couldn’t face N/N alone and win. No one can.
And a voice, the only one he both wished to hear and begged to forget, was echoing into the walls in his head, with the ringing that deafened him and the trembling grounds that pushed him.
Bruce.
Only Bruce had ever singlehandedly faced a Kryptonian and won.
A powerless earthling.
And all that plagued his mind was just that.
How did Bruce do it?
He didn’t have to be Bruce. Not just yet.
But the part of him that wasBruce, a product of fighting years of desperately trying not to be, grabbed the scepter and strapped it to his back.
It at least didn’t take too long for them to rush back out to the halls, past the corridors they’d blown up and the remains of fallen cyborgs left on the ground. Cyborg grabbed them both with his arms and flew them up to the surface.
They suddenly wished they hadn’t.
There was too much blood, the engineered blue that spilled on the floor, for anyone to have survived.
Aya laid close to lifelessness in the midst of the fiery debris, without a muscle twitching or moving her mace away from being horribly stretched behind her back. A crate weighed on top of her so she couldn’t heal or even move.
Ora’s screams were horrific before they were finally silenced. Where she laid: a crater the size of a meteorite’s impact on hard soil. Her own flames burnt her, with her arms pinned to the sides of her body and a steel slab that hugged her like a python. Only N/N’s hands could have possibly molded the steel to bend that way.
They should have cowered away like any sane man would, but they only took a step back when N/N slammed herself on the ship’s deck once again.
Her red eyes fixed on them, and her head tilted as if it was curious.
On Vic, of course. Her sensors were probably going nuts at the sight of the Mother Box.
Vic’s defense system was quick to act. When his arm molded into an impressive blaster the size of a tank’s machine gun, the beams that shot out of him were enough to throw N/N across the hangar. She crashed to the wall.
And even when it barely made a dent on her skin, it was enough for her systems to react.
N/N flew like a bullet aiming for Victor’s head. The beams, at least, had the sense to keep shooting quick enough before she would have crashed him. N/N came to a screeching halt, swerved before the blast hit her. And when she was all but hovering over them to avoid every blast that came her way.
But the blasts couldn’t hold N/N for too long. She pounced at Vic like a speeding hawk and grabbed him by the shoulders, dragging him across the metal grounds to scrape it with his body until a long trail marked the main deck. She threw Cyborg for the plasma walls possibly knowing he couldn’t breathe in space.
But he saved himself with his thrusters just before his head crossed the threshold. Vic flew back on safer grounds, firing his beams to keep N/N at bay.
Vic had no chance of getting close enough to N/N’s head, rid her of Z’arr’s control without possibly dying himself.
Perhaps Ora was in that same delusion that N/N still could be saved.
How do you save someone when she was that very thing they were fighting against?
She was a weapon, built to go after anything that posed a threat.
Jason held the scepter, gripped on it tight until his fingers were worn, then he shot the last of his blasters at N/N’s head. It only bounced against her skin, but it caught her attention.
When she set her eyes, her sensors,on Jason, the blank look on her face was much like a recalibrating machine.
With this plan of his, or the lack of it at least, he had to remember this wasn’t N/Nhe faced.
The Kryptonian Cyborg eyed the scepter and he could have sworn he heard a hiss out of her lips. The first instinct of any programmed machine was to destroy the biggest threat in its way.
What bigger threat was there, other than the only piece of matter in the galaxies that could ever pierce a Kryptonian’s flesh?
Her head turned for a crate. Quickly, N/N flew for one and grabbed it over her shoulders, tossing it at Jason’s direction before he could even move to avoid it. He couldn’t, and it shattered above him. He lost his grip on the scepter and when the crate broke, N/N grabbed for his throat and flew Jason to the closest wall to pin him against it.
She could not touch that scepter if she didn’t want the Kryptonite to burn her. She could only kill the one that held it.
She flew them far away from the Kryptonite before it could possibly weaken her, and her hand no longer felt the throb of blood beating through her veins. Like a steel rod was being pushed to his throat, it shouldn’t have been long before his neck breaks like shards of glass against a boot.
But he wasn’t dead just yet.
That second was all that mattered.
This.
This time, he had to fight back.
He was Jason Todd.
He died.
He lived again.
And if there was one thing not a lot of people knew,
It was how this was not the first time he ever broke a Kryptonian’s hold.
No earthling should have done it. Hell, he could feel every eye on him twitch, staring widely at the scene so unbelievably true.
His hands were shaking.
But they pried N/N’s indestructiblehands from being wrapped around his throat, and as the air shot back up to his head, he only grew stronger. It was quick, a flash one would have missed in a blink.
Jason pushed himself off N/N’s grip and ducked before her fist landed on the wall.
It shouldn’t have happened.
But it happened.
Jason was back on his feet. A voice called out from afar. Roy.
His friend tossed him the scepter.
N/N’s face couldn’t physically distort to look mortified, but she no longer pounced so easily. Not when Jason had the scepter.
With that little shred of Kryptonite, he could end this.
He could end her.
She would have wanted him to.
How did Bruce do it?
How did Bruce defeat Clark all those years ago?
With his undying wit, the immovable willpower to subdue his loved ones when needed, and a pound of Kryptonite.
N/N was gritting. She couldn’t feelanything, but even then, she looked furious.
But when she jumped for Jason, all it took was a swing of his scepter and already, she was thrown yards across the ground.
Jason held it close enough until she was crawling, shielding her eyes from the Kryptonite’s glow.
He had to be Bruce this time.
Of all times, it had to be now.
Now. To N/N.
This was not the N/N he survived with, kissed, held, and made love to. This was a thoughtless android who’d kill him at any moment’s hesitation. It was no different from their first brawls. ThatN/N, he needed to subdue. He could do it now. Suppress everything else that happened after.
Tears drenched his face. Was this how it was supposed to end?
Any contact with the rock was lethal. If she doesn’t live through this-
Do it, Jason, Bruce screamed.
“I’m sorry…”
The scepter stabbed N/N by the shoulder. Only then, even when her mind couldn’t possibly have allowed her to feel pain, her screams were the deafening cries of help he wanted desperately to come aid. But he was there to cause it, to draw more of it. The Kryptonite glowed until the light couldn’t allow them to see through their own cries, and when he couldn’t shield it with his arms, Jason lifted the scepter up, lifting N/N along with it impaling deeper into her arm.
She grabbed its hilt, her stubborn, willful spirit still there despite the reprogramming that shouldn’t have allowed her the thought. And when she caught Jason’s tear-flooded eyes, fighting through her screams, he knew there was no going back.
Even when she loses, she does not accept defeat.
So there was a trace of her left after all. Only N/N would have used the last stretch of her strength to spit at her killer’s face.
With wide eyes, Jason saw the end of him. N/N blew onto the scepter and a deathly crawl of icy frost formed where her breath blew like a storm’s wind.
And he couldn’t move fast enough before her freeze breath reached Jason’s hand.
Screaming at the ice that tore through his flesh, N/N crushed the scepter’s staff with the last of her strength, and a string of destruction crept to where he could no longer move. Just as she did, only then did Vic finally get close enough to her, his hand like a claw as it sunk deep into N/N’s skull.
Jason couldn’t feel a thing. Not at first. The ice was enough to subdue the pain.
But once he laid eyes on his frozen hand that’d shattered into pieces, torn from his wrist like it was so easily detached, all the excruciating pain surged in an instant’s wave.
But he couldn’t fall out of consciousness, not when everything was screaming at him like this.
With his hand gone, the pain felt eternal.
Like the stars burned beneath his skin. There was no finger for him to reach the sky with. Nothing he could writhe and shake to show just how terrified he was. He looked up, at the unending stars splattered like paint. How he used to watch them like a marvel. Now, they faced him in death.
Turning to his side, he was so suddenly drawn to N/N’s screams that echoed out into the chasms.
She was on her knees, crying both from the Kryptonite still lodged into her flesh and Vic’s claw on her skull, rewiring her brain once more. It was belittling, going against everything she’d fought relentlessly against for years. She wanted so badly to have a mind of her own, and she couldn’t even have that.
This had to happen.
Vic held on for the most of it. When it was done, when the light out of her eyes finally was rid of the blank red so at loss of life, her screams came to a halt. Vic released the claw from her head and she fell limp on the ground.
Someone so strong never looked so helpless. So innocent. Not a trace of fury etched on her face.
Even when he just had his whole hand frozen off, and his blood pooling all over the ground, Jason was already crawling to her body. His tears were never so painful to sting his eyes. His good hand reached for her, helplessly. He could barely sit upright, but that was what he did.
Jason crawled to her side with his whole body like hauling a sack. Crying her name in a whisper only he could hear, his pleas were inaudible. Her name, repeatedly out of his lips, was like a prayer. Roy held Victor off from rushing to help Jason. No one can help him.
His senses slowly came rushing. Or what was left of them, at least.
Jason dug through her flesh with his fingers, crying at the obvious pain that would have caused her and the lack of screams, the lack of color on her beautiful lips. He grabbed the shards of Kryptonite that had dug itself deep into her shoulder and he tossed every trace of it far away, past the plasma walls so they may be lost into space.
Every trace of it. Every rock.
When it slowly started to heal, his breaths slowed. His whole body wanted to just fall. Jason held her face, his tears falling onto N/N’s bloodstained cheeks. The loss of blood out of his hand would soon take its toll. As it long should have.
Jason pressed his forehead on N/N’s, begging that she wake. “Please… Please… N/N… Don’t die on me, Tiger…”
Roy kicked the last of the Kryptonite far off into space.
Then her beautiful, soft lips flushed a faint red.
Her cheeks rose with color. And her chest rose as her lungs filled.
When her eyes opened, no longer did a cruel gaze of red light stare back at him.
It was her. Hereyes.
And they stared at Jason like she’d seen the first of a star’s shine. With it, a trace of confusion. Reprogramming rids her of her memories.
She didn’t know who he was anymore.
But she was alive. She was N/N.
The blood loss didn’t allow him the time to revel. Everything had grown dark before he could speak.
—–
The man that held her fell to the floor before she could say anything.
His hand was gone, soiling the metal grounds with his blood. A red-haired earthling rushed to him at the instant, and the many cyborgs that circled them watched her stand as if she was an unfolding scene to witness. And it was.
Thousands of heartbeats surrounded her. She could hear everything. Seeeverything. And every single heart was frantic at the sight of her like they were afraid. They twitched when she moved and their hearts sped faster.
Her fists tightened, ready to pounce at any wrong slight of hand.
There was a cyborg, one that looked different from the rest, that spoke to her through voices that echoed only in her mind. His skin was dark, with half a face left of what used to be his flesh. An earthling, or he used to be one. His voice, only she could hear, was soothing.
Curiously, N/N took a step to the cyborg.
‘We are not the enemy,’ he whispered to her.
She was right to be skeptical.
But his heartbeat was steady. He had one, beneath all the steel. There was no trace of a lie. Like flashing scenes that took its time to gradually come to her senses, he helped her remember.
There was a bright yellow sun.
Tears. There were tears that seeped out of her. Until there wasn’t.
Everything was red. It was all she could see.
Then there was a man, a cruel man with a cruel mind she could read. That very mind was what spoke to her. A man with green skin, red eyes. And for a while, his was the only voice she could hear.
And it told her to do so much she didn’t want to do. The first order he gave was to take the life of the earthling on the ground, then of the other cyborgs like her, of everything that was a threat to him.
‘He is the enemy,’ the cyborg spoke again. ‘He tortured me, too.’
Torture.
It only lasted days-the resurfacing memories only a handful.
But she could tell there was more to it.
She looked down and the floor faded from sight. Everything was transparent, like the hearts beneath the steel. Her x-ray vision saw past the many layers down to the ship’s hull, searching for that one, frantic heartbeat of a coward running for his life.
When she caught that very heartbeat, she shot herself into the ground, breaking through those borders like a blast out of a gun. Everything broke to her touch, fragile to hold; nothing was comparable to her might.
There.The heartbeat. A coward’s heartbeat hoping none could see him. He was rushing for a ship. Not this time.
Every wall in her way broke against her fist. With speeds blurring the matter that couldn’t keep up with her sight, she tore through the ship’s innards until she reached the secret hangar.
And the man, the Captain, was hiding by the crates, shaking like a lone pup. He posed no fight even with him thrashing like a child in her hold, when she grabbed him by his cloak’s collar to fly them both miles away from the Station.
Where no eyes could see, where only the twinkling lights from faraway stars could witness her doing, she floated into the airless chasm and looked to the skies for the nearest fiery sun.
The Captain figured what she was doing long after she’d flown them another few million miles for a star, a shining yellow with dangerous flares reaching for this man’s skin to burn it. He pleaded, but no sound could come out of his mouth, not when they were here.
She could only remember so much.
But his eyes were as dark as they were desperate.
They told stories; his voice was the same that’d ordered her mind as if it weren’t her own. They told of years, decades, centuriesof torment over people like her. They no longer could hide themselves. The truth wanted to come out by itself.
They told of cruelty.
That was enough of a reason.
He mouthed his pleas to her, gasping for breath when she held him by the neck.
The coward was as good as dead, floating into deep space so helplessly. But he looked into hereyes, and his only bore fear. As if the Martian Captain always knew he’d be staring at them when he dies.
Powerful, blinding beams of red light shot out of her eyes the same as the flaring blasts of the star. It burned the Captain’s flesh that withered away into ash, and the force pushed and threw him into the star’s even more scorching flames. Her heat vision did not stop until his body was no longer to be seen, when it was long lost into the star’s burning core, and the last of his life was nothing more than drifting ash.
There was so much hate, her own cruelties. She woke up and already, the blackness in her soul was the first of the slow-moving thoughts; so much fury she couldn’t even remember. Her eyes had grown dark, even against such a blinding sun.
The beams out of her eyes finally came to a slow halt.
Then there was a second of peace.
Peace.
With the stars and clouds, the flares that colored the black plane of unending space and hummed a song. No star, even with such a fiery core, could hold that much quietness. It went against everything in her heart that screamed from behind the metal bars of a cage.
How could she remember what they were, even when she had no memory of seeing one before?
She was drifting, floating. The stars had no end no matter where she faced and turned her head. It was a garden, limitless. Some stretched their arms to reach for their brothers, light rays of all colors. Some were clustered in clouds in the deepest shades of lavender petals. Some had drifted from the crowds like they wanted their light to show for themselves.
They called for her to calm, whispering for her heart to slow and her thoughts to rest from such a race.
Then she was tired.
Even with such strength, she fell limp.
Then her eyes were too heavy.
So she closed them, listened to the star’s humming of the song only they knew the melody of. Sometimes, when they wanted to, she heard a note play out like they sung. Everything was quiet and black. She didn’t feel the pair of arms that took her away.
—–
It didn’t take much to wake him.
Perhaps it had been days of staring at the shadows beneath his eyelids, counting the hours of the overhead bulbs coming to a dim. He didn’t count them literally. He just knew it’d been a while. The voices changed, too. And the feel of hands that often turned his arm around.
It started when the shadows burned red, the way it did when closed eyes looked up at fluorescents. Then came the feeling of his toes and fingers that wriggled and twitched, his lips that chapped, his chest that hurt after every breath.
Finally, when breathing wasn’t too much of a pain, Jason opened his eyes.
On top of his bedside, his Red Hood helmet watched him wake.
The quietness was eerie. Somehow his head made up an ever-playing note from a key he didn’t know where from. The infirmary was a busy room, but that time, no one had anything to speak of. Not even his friend, Roy, asleep on a thin chair just at his cot’s side. When Jason sat up, already, Roy was awake.
“Thank fuck, Todd,” he gasped when the surprise died down. “Thought you were actuallydead this time.”
“My seat in hell’s been long overdue, but I’m not taking it anytime soon.”
“Spare me the death jokes,” Roy gently slapped his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
“You’ve been conscious?”
“Barely. But nothing hurts too much anymo-“
He should have figured why the passing wind on his left hand wasn’t as gentle on his right. But it didn’t take until he actually saw his own fingers for it to sink in.
“Yeah, uhm,” Roy gulped, “your hand-“
“I know. I remember.”
It looked impressive.
A cybernetic hand. Skin-like touch feedback. Stainless black steel and rods that folded when he stretched his fingers.
“Looks cool though,” Roy said.
“You’d say that if it weren’t you.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I blew up her arm once before. We’re even now.”
The cycling debt finally stops.
Really. Don’t apologize. He’ll have to deal with a lot of sorry’s and pitiful looks possibly for the rest of his life. But he was more looking forward to the children gawping at how awesome his robot hand was.
Soft, feathery sheets against his fingers were all the same. He ran his new hand over the surface until it warmed.
“Where’s Vic?”
Roy pointed to a few beds behind them. Vic was sitting upright, talking to the Fleet surgeon with a bag held to his head. He smiled and waved at Jason when their eyes met.
“And N/N?”
Roy didn’t look too worried, at least. Better than what was worst. “Can you walk?”
Jason stretched out his toes and followed his friend down the hallways the Fleet already had repaired. “Ora’s leading the Fleet for now,” Roy told him. “We’re safe here.”
“What happened to N/N?”
They had to go to the Station’s lower decks, through many doors before they got to a holding area with a glass window, and behind that window was a prison cell for a very specific prisoner.
A red sun prison; that had to be what glowed from a compacted star they contained just above the glass dome. No one else was inside, and even outside the dome, it was locked.
But they could see what went on inside.
And she was there. N/N. She looked calm, quiet, peaceful. Sitting upright on the floor with her back against the glass. To just run to her, hold her; it would have been too easy.
“They said she gets more violent when she recovers from reprogramming.”
“She’s always violent,” Jason snorted.
“Yeah, this time she almost killed a hundred guards when they tried to contain her. The place is lined with lead, so she can’t even see or hear out of these walls.”
“She’s just confused. And afraid.”
He couldn’t look away. Not from her glowing eyes. This time, full of life, full of feeling, even with it being darkness. But distant.
“She can’t remember a thing…”
When he said that, it only cemented what he wanted so badly to slip from his mind. “She was so afraid this would happen again,” Jason longingly whispered, hoping she was listening.
Roy slapped his shoulder. “Well, you’re in luck. It won’t last. She’ll remember you. She’ll remember everything soon.”
He was about to scowl at his friend’s delusional attempt to comfort him before Roy grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Ora told me to tell you. You know how N/N can record everything she sees?” Roy stuck his finger to Jason’s head. “Turns out that Martian dude was a secret hoarder because he just took out the recorded memories from her head so she could be his puppet, but he never got rid of any of them. It’s all stored in the archives they found days ago. Why else do you think Z’arr knew so much about her that nobody else did?”
The soul in him must have gone for a time, because something filled his body like a cold gust of a storm.
“Don’t play with me, Harper.”
“I’m not.”
They didn’t know. They didn’t know what this meant to her; how this changes everything.
How much her eyes stepped out from the shadows as each day they spent together passed.
Her past. Her identity. What she longed to know.
And to think that could be brought back? After the many dark days he sulked in a scratchy infirmary cot, pretending to be unconscious? Because the thought of N/N forgetting everything was so hard to even think about?
Jason was already reaching for her, and even that he didn’t notice. When his palm cooled against the glass, her voice was all he could hear. ‘I could never forget you.’
She said it so reassuringly, like there had never been anything more of a truth.
Just as Jason couldn’t forget her. Not even after decades worth of his antics.
They didn’t know what he and N/N made, what they went through, and promised to remember; when they were alone, the silences and bickers, the stars that watched them and the journey of a lifetime.
But.
Maybe she can have all that.
Without him.
“What if,” Jason whispered, “what if she doesn’t have to…”
What if she can remember the smiles, but not who was behind it?
There was that rage he recognized from the first time they met, the rage that came with fear. But her heart wasn’t hurt, not like how it was going to be.
‘Don’t forget me.’
‘I wish I could.’
What heartaches was she spared from? How many tubs of tears ceased now that Jason wasn’t so much as a distant memory?
She can remember everything else; the journey, the stars, their discoveries. Just not him.
Ora walked into the waiting cell. In her hands, a holographic clipboard. N/N’s anatomy was on display with letters he couldn’t recognize.
“Roy must have told you the news by now. I think we can transfer her recorded memories by today-“
“Can you leave out a few things?” Jason interjected. “Like choose the memories to give back to her?”
“Of course,” Ora said.
“Don’t let her remember me.”
He might as well have told them he wanted to jump out the window. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Jason turned to Ora. “Leave out as many recordings you have of me. That’s only four months. She wouldn’t miss it.”
“Yes, she will,” Ora exclaimed. “You don’t get to decide what she wants to remember.”
“She won’t want to remember me if she doesn’t even know.”
Roy felt no differently. “You’re being delusional, Todd.”
“I’m not.”
The sight of her alone, unknowing. There was that slight of innocence he didn’t want stripped away.
She was right all those weeks ago. It should have just been one night. It should have been less, much less than that.
“We’re finally going home, Harper,” he held his friend’s arm, “and I’m never gonna see her again.”
Roy’s face fell. He always understood.
“I just don’t want her to get hurt anymore…”
This could be salvation. From him.From how scared she was of getting hurt; how long he had to wait before she finally gave in against what she thought she wanted.
And he knew for a fact that N/N once wished Jason never should have happened.
There will never be a greater length of pain. But at least it would all be on him. This could be his turn to save her.
“Can I talk to her?” Jason said, holding back the flooding throb in his throat. “Just to say goodbye.”
She wasn’t stable. She was a machine being contained before she tears the whole place apart.
But it was an act of pity, a charity case with it a risk of his own life. Ora opened the gates to let him pass. Hesitantly, Jason stepped in with his heart tucked away, frozen stiff when almost immediately, N/N watched him move like a hawk.
He wasn’t anything more to her than a potential threat. He had to be careful.
N/N walked slowly to the glass like a defensive lioness. Even with no weapons, she looked dangerous. Her eyes were darker now that they were hooded, like she wanted the shadows on them. He never realized she did that on purpose to look even more threatening.
Jason hoped the glass between them was thicker than it looked. Through the filtered audio, her voice echoed out a speaker at the side.
“Let me out of here.”
“I’m not one of them,” Jason shakily gulped. “I’m not the staff.”
She eyed his robot hand but didn’t question it. Jason tried to ignore the coldness in her voice that stabbed him wi
A/N: Thanks to @rosevered and the three amazing anons that sent me these amazing ideas!! I tried my best to combine them and I hope you like it :) Lots of love you guys! <3<3
“Stop,” Jason mumbles into the pillow. You continue to stare excitedly at him from your side of the bed.
“Stop, what?” you feign innocence.
He opens one eye. “Stop looking at me like you know more than I do. It makes me nervous.”
You gasp, bringing your hand over your mouth. “I am making theRed Hood nervous?”
He opens both of his eyes to glare narrowly at you. “No, you are making the man who specifically said not to make a big deal out of today feel like you are definitely about to make a big deal out of today.”
“So,” you pull out two frosting dispensers, “You don’t want to make a cake?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “How long have you been holding them?”
“Too long, now come on!” You sit up and shove them in his face.
He grabs his pillow and places it over his face with a groan.
“Fine,” you sigh and climb off the bed, “Looks like I’m the one that’s going to have to do all the cooking.”
Jason removes the pillow and sits up. “Don’t threaten me, it’s my birthday.”
“Sure,now it’s your birthday, when it is convenient for you!” Your voice fades as you walk into the kitchen. Jason can’t help the widespread grin growing on his face as he shakes his head. He definitely knew you would ignore his request. He just hopes you don’t go overboard.
Y/n was coming back from a mission she had with the Titans, Dick told them to split into threes groups and put Rose in the same group as Y/n, so it was split like this Y/n, Rose and Rachel were going sideways while Jason, Gar, and Dick were going downtown.
Y/n and Jason were sitting on the couch in the living room, Jason was sitting on one of his legs while he was facing his girlfriend hugging her and giving kisses on her cheek and neck.
Suddenly Y/n realized that Rachel and Gar had entered the living room.
“Hey guys!” Rachel approached the couple and Gar followed her smiling at Y/n.
“Go away! There are lots of other places in this house to you makeout.”
Y/n blushed as Jason tried to kiss her.
“Jason! Don’t be rude, how are you guys?”
“Thanks Y/n! We’re fine but seriously I keep asking myself, how can you date someone like Jason if you are the sweetest person I’ve ever met?” Rachel asked.
Y / n laughed and looked at Jason.
“He’s not bad as you say, maybe you don’t know him well enough, right Jay?”
Jason grinned looking at her and gave Y/n a quick kiss.
“She loves me if you haven’t noticed yet.”
“Oh my God Gar let’s get out of here before I throw up. ”
summary:jason will do anything to prove he’s right, especially when it comes to his suspicion of you.
warning/s: swearing, unedited, gif not mine, very minor mention of sex and drug trafficking
slater’s note: uhh the titans season 3 trailer came out and that kinda gave me motivation to write for jason (even though i don’t take curran as the f/c)
“we’re not just friends and you know it + stay, please.”
“Okay, now you’re just insulting me.”
“Come onnn Jay, you know he’s dramatic.”
Jason snatched the copy of Hamlet from your hands, and held it protectively.
You laughed at him.
“I can see why you defend him though, you’re just as dramatic as he is.”
You laughed even louder at his visibly offended expression that followed your statement.
“ ’m not dramatic.” He grumbled out, cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
“So, let’s rewind shall we? How did we find out about you- ” before you could finish your sentence he cut you off.
“Okay, I’m never sharing my books with you again.”
He stood up from his seat next to you. You turned slightly, watching him put his book back with the rest of the collection on his bookshelf.
You emptied the glass of wine you had with you, and reached for the bottle to refill your glass.
“I just think you can’t handle the truth.”
Jason turned back to give you an indignant look, walking back to the couch. “You know, I don’t think I wanna be friends with someone who’s mean to me.”
He ignored your feeble protest when he took the bottle and glass away from you. Saying you’d had enough.
Had you not been inebriated, maybe you wouldn’t have said it. However, there were no restraints to your thoughts at that very moment.
“We’re not just friends and you know it. I like you, and uh.. well.. not sure how you feel. But we’re definitely not just friends. C'mon.”
You continue to mumble incoherently, but he wasn’t too worried about what he couldn’t hear when what you’d just said had made him pause in surprise.
His eyes light up with something like hope, something like joy, that you said what he’d been thinking but could never bring himself to say out loud lest he break the little bubble of happiness he had with you.
He tried not to get too excited, because it was after all a drunk confession, but the words couldn’t stop playing over and over again in his head.
“Okay, you’ve had too much to drink,” he gently lifted you up to stand “Let’s get you to bed so you can sleep.”
“Woah, slow down. At least buy me dinner first, Todd.” Your words were a little slurred but the furious shade of red on his face was an indication that he’d heard you loud and clear as he helped you get to his bedroom.
“Come on.” He managed to grumble out.
Once he had you tucked in, he turned off the light and was about to leave, you called out to him.
“I’m scared. Stay, please? We can be cuddle buddies. I’m sure you’re awesome at giving cuddles. Please?”
Jason sighed, resigning himself to the immensely awkward ordeal of sharing a bed with you. He hated how hot his face got when you snuggled closer to him as you sleep.
The one thought that occupied his mind was that there would be a very interesting conversation you two would have in the morning.
