Caring (Jason Todd & Dick Grayson & Eddie Bloomberg & Zachary Zatara)

[shauds]

Title: Caring

Fandom: DC Comics

Prompt: #017 Caring

Character/Pairing: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Eddie Bloomberg, Zachary Zatara

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3473

Summary: It's a well known fact that Bats aren't very good at showing when they care. Or, it's well known by those who've been around the past four years. When they drag a lost bird home in the basis of 'I care' they don't realize how hard it will be to learn how to show those things again. Fortunately, Dick has a pretty good idea on how to ease the transition. That's, if he can get Jason out of the house.

Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Requested by keiynans-lonsdale over on tumblr.

Caring about Jason is hard sometimes. No, it’s not hard to care about him. It’s hard because, even with everything he’s done, they can’t stop, and all it’s taken to reach the point where they realize this, is Jason’s tentative return to the manor. It’s hard, because of all the things that Jason did because he thought they didn’t care, he doesn’t think they can care now. It’s easier for him to believe that he’s being kept around so they can monitor him for signs that he’s like a time bomb, waiting for him to explode, and not because the idea that he could disappear again is terrifying.

Because Jason looks at Bruce, and he looks for signs that all of Bruce’s stilted assurances are genuine, looks for the signs he remembers of the Bruce he knew who wasn’t a cuddle bug, but could still make it very clear that he cared, and Jason can’t quite grasp that this Bruce is different. That Bruce just can’t express things the way he used to, no matter how much all of them wish he could.

So Jason pushes, for those short minutes worth of emotion that Bruce just can’t express anymore. He brings up his death in casual conversation, throws the acts he’s committed in the times since like barbed knives that dig into his father long after the outward reaction has faded. Just a flinch or a hitched breath is all Jason gets out of it, but it’s enough until Bruce figures out what he’s doing and stops reacting. So Jason gets meaner and meaner and it’s just an endless toxic circle.

Dick knows it’s different when he’s there. Dick’s somehow gotten to be Jason’s favorite – the one good thing to come out of killing Joker that one time – and while Bruce has forgotten a lot about showing he cares in the years since they lost Jason, Dick’s learned a whole lot.

A lot, but not enough when it’s his father Jason wants, needs to give him that kind of attention right now. Just Dick could never be enough for that, no one person could and Jason’s on the verge of leaving, vanishing like he’s become so good at, and once that happens, Dick’s not sure there’ll be anything he or anyone can do.

So Dick does some research, and he makes some calls, he comes up with some very enthusiastic results. Then he goes to find Jason who’s unsurprisingly just come out of yet another argument with Bruce, in the guest room he’d claimed for himself.

”Waddaya want, Dickhead.” Jason says, not pausing in his methodical dismantling and destruction of a grapple gun.

”Dickhead?” He injects some hurt into his voice and looks over Jason’s shoulder at the steadily growing pile of mangles components. “What happened to Dickybird?” He pouts a pout that Jason doesn’t see. “Heh.” He shrugs, “I can work with that. Come on, I got us tickets for a magic show.”

“You mean I can leave the manor?” Jason gasps, then picks up a hammer and smashes a gear in a sharp, loud motion that Dick refuses to flinch at. Over the top as always.

”No one ever said you couldn’t.” Dick nudges his little brother’s shoulder. “Come on.”

Jason ignores him, so Dick nudges him again, and again, and again, each nudge getting progressively closer to a shove, until he’s knocked Jason of the chair.

”Shit.” Dick takes one look at Jason’s gaping mouth and wide eyes before he takes off, the scraping sounds of Jason’s pursuit following him moments later.

”You’re fucking dead!”

The wrestling match that ensues takes them clear across the manor. It only ends with a tumble down the grand staircase gets them a very sour look from Alfred who declares he needs peace and sends them out.

***

Outside the theater, Dick picks out the parts of Jason that match up with the memories of his little – not so little anymore – brother. The way the tips of his hair curl in all manner of directions now it’s gotten long enough and Jason has given up on combing it into a semblance of neatness. It’s all black, the white having been dyed out only a few days ago. The twist of his lips that displays his disdain for all the world to see. How the shuffling of his feet when he feels the eyes of strangers lingering on him and he turns to make sure Dick’s still there belies the true nature of that scowl. Dick grins and Jason turns to look at anything else.

”Can’t believe I fell for this.” Jason mutters, tucking his hands deep within the pockets of his large coat. It’s Bruce’s, just more proof that Jason needed to get out of that manor, he hasn’t even had the chance to get clothes other than the ones he had when he got there.

”Ah.” Dick resists the sudden impulse to tousle Jason’s hair already tousled hair while he can still reach it easily and instead sidles up closer to the kid. “I haven’t seen you in a week, I don’t do something and someone’s gonna steal my spot as your favorite.” Aw screw it, Jason’s only nineteen, he’s probably going to get even bigger, and Dick will have lost the window in which he can tousle his brother’s hair, so he tousles Jason’s hair.

”You’re everyone’s favorite.” Jason growls out and slaps Dick’s hand away and ducks out of reach, his scowl deepening. “And I’m reconsidering as we speak!” He tries to loom over Dick, but Dick’s been loomed over by taller people, and it’s not exactly intimidating when not even an hour ago he came this close to driving a spit covered finger into Jason’s ear.

Not when a glare from a couple of old ladies is enough to have Jason hunching into the upturned collar of Bruce’s coat like a chastised little turtle, his eyes shifting every which way. “A fucking magic show, I swear.”

”Hey, I distinctly remember you saying you loved magic.” Dick grins and plants his hands on Jason’s shoulders, steering his brother into the theater as the crowd starts moving, getting a weary frown for his troubles.

”I said I am magic, not I like magic, Dickhead.” So petulant, Dick almost can’t resist trying to noogie Jason’s head into that coat, but he does, because they’re about to go in, and he doesn’t want Jason ditching now that they’ve already gotten this far.

”Adorable.” He says instead, and squeezes his little brother’s shoulders just a bit tighter, to Jason’s inaudible grumbles of frustration.

***

Any idiot could tell you Dick isn’t paying attention to the show, that he has about as much interest in what’s happening on the stage as Jason does in learning miming, mimery… whatever the fuck it is that mimes do. However, Jason has never been interested in learning the art of the mime, he’s sure he’s never given anyone the impression that he has, but Dick? Dick had been ecstatic for this show. He’s just about literally dragged Jason from his very careful, piece-by-piece destruction of Bruce’s equipment, and now he doesn’t seem to give a damn.

No, Dick’s too busy alternating between no-so-subtly scanning the audience, and looking forlornly at the empty seat besides Jason, and the back to crowd searching. It makes about as much sense as anything else Dick’s done since he let Jason be dragged back to the manor in the first place. A short series of events that had given Jason nothing but a long series of headaches.

So Jason can’t really watch the show either, he’s too busy searching out either a threat, or whoever the fuck it is Dick saw fit to invite here with them. He hopes it’s the former and that the chair thing is just a stupid coincidence, and if – because the universe has apparently decided Jason’s life is a joke – it is the latter, and one of Dick’s nearsighted buddies is coming, he hopes it’s not his replacement Robin. Because that would undo a hell of a lot of work Jason’s still a little iffy on his willingness to maintain.

The show ends and that smug look Dick had had since the manor has faded, slowly, bit by bit, along with it.

”Not as fun as you were hoping Dickybird?” Jason knows his tone is a little spiteful and the tired frown he gets in response makes him think it’s more than a little. It’s reflex more than anything else, and he actually does feel a little bad about Dick’s loss of enthusiasm. So he awkwardly, and a little roughly, pats his bothersome brother on the shoulder.

”Did you at least enjoy the show, Jay?” Dick asks, a little more hopeful than peeved at Jason’s assumed disinterest for now.

This would be the time for Jason to lie, wouldn’t it? Not the time to say that he’s been too busy searching the audience for some kind of supervillain attack to watch any of the thing, but then Dick might ask which part of the thing he enjoyed. Jason looks to the stage in search of an answer, at the familiar young magician who’s still taking his bow, turning the flowers being tossed at him into doves that light up the theater before exploding in a shower of soft sparks. Real magic. It doesn’t give Jason a non-offensive answer for Dick, but it does give him a question.

”Hey, when did Zach get superpowers?” He lets his surprise settle thickly over his face and hopes it's enough to get Dick's attention.

”So, you know him?” Dick asks, looks back at the stage, then to Jason who nods.

”From a coupla Bruce’s gala’s but I guess?”

Dick’s reaction, as can be expected, is entirely over the top. His face splits apart in a wide grin and his hand closes around Jason’s arm like a vice and to begin dragging Jason through the theater. “That’s great! We should go and say hi.”

”No.” Jason says, with as little inflection as possible and tries to rip his arm out of Dick’s hold. “I already did one stupid thing with you today. Lemme go.” His attempts at escape prove futile, whatever the fuck Dick is, he’s got a good grip, and in the confined space of the backstage hallways, Jason doesn’t stand a chance unless he goes with stabbing. He is not going with stabbing. Not yet.

”C’mon Jay, this is just like the thing with Alfred, you know you wanna see him.” Dick stops and looks at Jason imploringly, like Jason saying hi to a kid he met maybe a handful of times four years ago is the most important thing in the world. “I’ll let you play dress up in my suit for another night.”

”Oh god, just shut up.” Jason does succeed in yanking his arm out of Dick’s hold this time, and he stomps by his brother before he has to find out if his face has really gone as red as he thinks it has. “I don’t wanna be anywhere near your skintight fairysuit again.” And he doesn’t, he really doesn’t, that thing was fucking uncomfortable, and he that whole thing’s brought him nothing but trouble. “Fucking hell.”

Dick’s chuckling under his breath as he follows after and Jason hunches deeper into Bruce’s ridiculously warm coat. Asshole. His parents really knew what they were doing when they named him.

All it takes to get them to the dressing room are a couple waves at the two staff members they pass along the way, so either he’s been here before then or the security is trash and they should all be fired. Doesn’t matter, it’s just in and out, all Jason has to do is open the door, say ‘hi’ and leave. That’s it, and it’s all he’s doing.

He thinks it’s all he’s doing until they near the door and hear the crashing and skidding of a scuffle within, maybe it is that they just got in because the security is terrible then. They clear the hall in the next few strides – hey, Jason might not know the guy anymore, but he doesn’t want to be responsible for a kid having his guts splayed across the walls of his dressing room – and it’s Dick who throws the door open, ready to get involved in whatever’s happening in there.

”I can’t believe you’ve done this again.”

Which turns out to be a very disgruntled Zach trying to tug some red meta kid through his window.

”Not my fault, the ticket burned up.” The whined, and there was a scrabbling from the other side of the wall that was probably his feet trying to find purchase to push himself through the window. “And my shirt, and my shoes…” he let out a huff that sounded more like a sigh, then a mantra of, “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…” when Zach took hold of his arms and started pulling again.”

”A normal person,” Zach gave a sharp tug, “would have used,” another tug, “the door!” he gave one last tug and managed to pull the kid through and into the room, where he and Zach fell to the ground in a heap of limbs and expletives.

”Swear jar!”

”Shut up Eddie.” Zach pushed the boy off him and, only after standing, he noticed the two people standing in his doorway. “Nightwing?” Zach blinked at them, then hurriedly started patting down his suit. “Were you…” he waved at the window, “or, was there something you needed.”

”We.” Dick grabbed Jason by the scruff of Bruce’s coat and yanked him into a very close, very chummy one-armed hug before he could duck it. “Just caught your show, it was amazing, wasn’t it Jason?” He doesn’t miss the way Zach subtly preens at the praise.

”Hi.” Jason gave a two-fingered salute, and then tried to walk away, as planned, but Dick grabbed him and pulled him close again. Yeah, he was definitely considering stabbing now. He glared at Dick to make his intent known; it was the polite thing to do after all.

”Yeah, and Nightwing’s the one who invited me.” Red Guy leapt to his feet, an uncomfortably familiar smile on his face when Dick gave an affirmative nod.

”I was getting worried you wouldn’t make it.”

”He didn’t make it.” Jason mumbled under his breath, but no one seemed to hear him.

”See, I told you I was… wait.” The kid turns abruptly from his very put upon friend, and back to Jason and Dick, scrutinizing them in a way the lack of pupils in his yellow eyes made it hard to tell. Eyes with a very familiar… shit.

Dick smiled, as he’d somehow caught on that Jason had caught in, fucking mind readers him and Bruce both, then had the gall to tussle Jason’s hair again before releasing him into the room with none too gentle shove.

Jason manages to keep himself from tripping and shoves his hands deep into his pockets when he comes to a stop a couple feet from Eddie. Someone else who’s probably forgotten him. “What they hey K.D, you forget the sun block or somethin’.”

”He made a deal with a demon.” Zach’s in front of his mirror, trying to straighten the damage that’d been done to his once neatly pressed suit by Eddie’s tumble through the window. “Thought you were off being a supervillain now.”

”I was never a fucking supervillain!” Jason growled at the guy, his hands balling into tight fists in his pockets.

”Swear jar!” Eddie yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Jason, the deflating almost as quickly, his face scrunching up in confusion. “Wait, a supervillain? Okay hold on…” He went back to squinting at Jason. And Jason, well he is a little insulted, he recognized Eddie despite the fact that he’s an honest to goodness devil now. Jason hasn’t changed all that much, at least not physically he doesn’t think.

”Yes, he’s alive, the doorway between life and death is basically a merry-go-round at this point.” Zach says, leaning in closer to the mirror to pat his hair into place.

”Yeah but…”Eddie’s eyes are wide now, and his bottom lip has begun quivering.

”Shit.” Jason mutters and looks back, but Dick has, predictably, abandoned him. Jason doesn’t know what to do here, with this… emotional type thing.

”Hot damn.” Eddie whispers, he takes a short, slow step towards Jason, reaches out with one hand to pat Jason’s arm, then draws back as though he’s been burned, which is kind of ironic, because the next thing he does is throw himself at Jason for a hug.

Hot damn is fucking right, Eddie’s body temperature is high as a damned boiler room. The hug chars the first layer of fabric on Bruce’s coat almost immediately, it thankfully doesn’t take Eddie long to realize what he’s doing. “I’m sorry.” Eddie’s lip has begun trembling now. “Knew about the life-death thing, but I didn’t think anyone I knew would… would…” He reaches out for Jason again, and pulls Jason into another scorching hug, and there goes the second layer of fabric, two more and Jason’s in trouble.

”Eddie.” Zach tosses a hairbrush at them, and Eddie pulls back again. “Now I’m embarrassed for you, because god knows you won’t be for yourself.

”I said I’m sorry.” Eddie said again, his voice coming one decibel from being a shout, he turns his eyes pointedly at the coat he’s ruined.

”S’okay.” Jason’s voice is a little tight, so he clears his throat and tugs on the coat. “T’s Bruce’s, and I’m lookin’ to wreck as much of his shit as I can get my hands on.”

The room is quiet for a couple of awkward moments, before Eddie speaks up again.

”Hey, hey, guess who’s a Titan.” Eddie stands so tall when he says it, puffs out his chest so proudly, Jason feels bad that he couldn’t contain his scoff, and surprised that Zach’s reaction is very similar. “Aw come on, both of you?”

”We’ll say nice things at your funeral.” Zach says, he’s magiced up another hairbrush, Jason wonders if he could do that trick with food too. “I’ll put on a complimentary show.”

”Yeah screw that, you didn’t come to my funeral.” Jason tries to put his hands back in his pockets, but the pockets and the coat choose that moment to fall apart into a pool of fabric at Jason’s feet.

”Hot damn.” Eddie says again, and he looks like he’s going to start crying again. “You’re actually alive again, how did that even, it’s just…”

”Didn’t make a deal with a demon.” Well not exactly. “Seriously, what the fuck?”

”Bitter you’re the only one in the room without a superpower, Jason?” Zach smirks, leans back against his dresser.

”Yeah, magical birdies seem real useful.” Jason toes the coat away from him and directs his glare at Zach.

”Weren’t you a magical birdie?” Eddie asks, cocking his head to the side. “What was that thing you used to say?"

No, there’s no way Eddie remembers that, and Jason never said it in front of Zach. Not even when they accidentally got their hands on that alcoholic chocolate.

”Being Robin gives me magic!” Dick, the fucking traitor calls out from wherever he’s disappeared to. Forget stabbing, Jason’s going to strangle him to death, slowly, when he’s done igniting some napalm under these two laughing idiots that is.

***

The thing is, Jason needs emotional to feel like someone cares about him, he needs spontaneous displays of affection, whether they’re words or touches that make it easier to believe. Just the occasional, an ‘I do care about you,’ isn’t enough, no matter how sincere or how much he believes it in the moment. The Bats don’t do emotional; they haven’t for a long time, Bruce being the biggest offender right there.

Dick can’t pick up the slack, no one person could, but no one person could pick up the slack when Dick had gone through something similar – similar, but so, so different – to what’s been going on with Jason Bruce. So Dick has filled that hole with friends who, through the years, have become as close as family.

Dick’s feeling pretty good about himself, that he got Jason around people he’s managed to hit it off with and hopefully not spending all his time being mad at Bruce will help Jason find himself more. It’s the best he can do to help his little brother right now.

He’s feeling good about himself, right up until he has to explain to Bruce a week later that his son has disappeared into another dimension with a couple of other teenagers in search of the Phantasm.

Yeah, “Oops,” doesn’t quite cut it.