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Jason sighed as he let himself fall back onto his bed ungracefully. The emotional tornado from yesterday had left him exhausted even after a night of restful sleep. Bruce's words clung to the edges of his mind and would periodically replay despite him wanting to forget it all.
Did he really want to forget though? That was the first time he’s spoken to Bruce outside of their vigilante personas in a while, and the first time that he had heard Bruce be so open and vulnerable. (It did leave some bitterness at the fact the man would never be as open with his children.)
He rolled over to press his face into his pillows, pulling a blanket over his head to block out the sunlight that managed to seep through the curtains. Jason tried to go back to sleep but his brain seemed occupied with everything but what he wanted at the moment.
After a few minutes and no success Jason finally gave in to his thoughts and snatched his phone from the bedside table and turned it on. Ignoring the way the light made his eyes hurt under the darkness of his blanket he opened the phone app.
The number had been memorised since he got back to Gotham and managed to find it. His hands working on autopilot as he typed in each digit, the familiarity gained after countless nights of typing the number in only to have never hit the call button.
His thumb hovered over the button like every other time. He took in a shaky breath as he hit the screen before he could chicken out again. He waited with a bated breath as the dial tone filled the silent room. It stopped at the fourth ring when the person on the other side picked up.
“Hello, Dick Grayson speaking. What can I help you with?”
Jason choked on his breath, having to stop the ramble that was ready to fall from his lips that would immediately give away who he was. He didn’t know how much he wanted, needed, to hear his brother's voice without the normal anger and disappointment it had for Red Hood. Tears formed in his eyes way quicker then they had the night before, Jason feeling like someone had cut him open and was squeezing his heart.
He opened his mouth to reply but the words died in his throat. What would he even say? Dick didn’t know who was calling and Jason would just be some weirdo who somehow got his number. What if Dick just hung up the moment he knew it was a random call about nothing important? Jason would be destroyed, but hey, at least he would have gotten to hear Dicks voice again.
“Hello?”
His brother's voice came from the phone again, pulling Jason away from his thoughts and back to the present.
“Y-yeah. Hi, sorry about that.” Jason spoke finally, voice wavering only slightly, unnoticeable unless you were looking for it. He hoped Dick wasn’t looking for it, that meant he was paying close attention to Jason's voice and could easily figure out who Jason was.
“Who are you?!” Dick demanded before Jason heard an exasperated sigh on the other end of the line and the boy was speaking again, tone softer. “Sorry. I’ve had a busy day and I don’t recognize your voice or number.”
“Heh, I can understand that. I’m..nobody. Just some guy who found a random phone number saved and needed someone to talk to.” He lied effortlessly. Dick wouldn’t be so quick to turn down someone who was only looking for help in the form of conversation.
Silence stretched for what felt like minutes as Jason waited for an answer.
“Uh-” he replied, sounding conflicted. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I have a few minutes to spare.” He settled on. At the confirmation that Dick wasn’t just going to hang up something loosened in Jason's chest.
“So, what's wrong man?”
The question made Jason chuckle, though the lack of humor made it sound off putting. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
Despite tear filled eyes a fond smile found its way on Jason's face. God, he missed talking to Dick so much. It always felt so easy when he was talking with his brother, like everything that was wrong with the world would just be okay for a few minutes.
Jason hated this feeling. The way simple conversations were tearing him apart so easily, the concrete walls he built around him shattering with only a little push. It felt wrong for him to allow himself to be this raw, to open up to possible hurt. But that was what these phone calls were for, right? To push himself towards reconnecting with his family and that was guaranteed to hurt in the process.
“I forgot how to be alive. To live.” It came out as a whisper, a truth only meant for the wind to hear, but the phone was pressed so closely to his mouth that Dick couldn’t have missed it.
Jason didn’t realize the depth of the truth in his words until they were spoken. A witness to speak his truth no matter how much he wanted to convince himself they weren’t correct. He wanted to take them back and shove them into a tiny box, put that box so far back in his mind until it was only a whispered rumor to him.
It felt like a pit had opened up in him, that his words had not gently cut out, but instead unapologetically ripped out some piece of him leaving this rough emptiness that hurt in his chest.
Since he had been pulled from the cool embrace of death and shoved back into the world of living Jason had been a shell of the boy he used to be. The soft smile that was always plastered on his face replaced by the hard edges of a frown. The carefree way in which he had carried himself no matter the horrors he had seen melted away and left distrust and tension in his every move. His childish innocence ripped away by the pit, but not before the Joker had chipped pieces of him away.
Jason was going through the motions of living on autopilot.
“I know what that feels like.” Jason heard Dick speak again. He wondered if it was really minutes that had passed in silence or if it had only been a few seconds. Time was always slipping through his fingers nowadays.
A harsh laugh pushed its way past clenched teeth, the disbelief heavy in his tone as he voiced the first thought that came to mind without meaning to.
“Yeah right. What would you know about not living?”
It came out meaner than he wanted, sharp edges ready to cut anything that threatened him. Dick had always been so happy. Even now, from the few times he had seen the man he was still so full of light and laughter.
“After my brother..” he started, voice heavy with grief and something else unidentifiable, “He died. I don’t think I’ve been living since. I mean, I try. I try for my other brothers, and my father, but it still gets hard some days.”
Jason replied with a hum but it came out more pained than the indifference he was going for. Him. Dick was talking about him. The hurt and grief in his brother's voice sounded out of place as Jason was the one listening. Alive.
Alive and here on the other end of the line unbeknown to his brother that after years still hurt so much from his death.
“I’m sorry.”
Sorry. The word rang through his head like a chant. Apologizing for everything and nothing. He had so much to be sorry for, and then he had nothing at the same time. Sorry he died, it wasn’t his choice. Sorry he lived, it wasn’t his choice. Sorry he was hiding now, that, okay that was somewhat his choice. He was sorry for being born into the family he was, sorry for being so weak that he couldn’t care for his own mother, sorry that he had become Robin, sorry that he had been so kind, had gotten attached, that he had let his family love him back equally as much.
Jason didn’t choose the life he got, but he was still sorry about it.
Pathetic. Greedy. Unlovable. Needed. Always taking and taking without a care for what happened, leaving those who he chose to intertwine his life with be hurt in the process. As long as he got what he wanted, right? As long as Dick picked up so he could hear his voice. As long as he knew his family still loved him. Jason didn’t care how much the reminder hurted, as long as he satisfied the growing hole in his chest.
“I’m sorry.” The broken whisper fell from his lips. Tears blurring his vision as he squeezed his eyes tight to avoid letting them fall this time. “I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.” The whispers turned to pleas, silently begging for a forgiveness that Dick couldn’t give him right now, not without telling his brother who he was.
“You don’t have anything to apologize about.” Dicks warm, kind voice came from his phone, a reminder that he was still on call. He knew that he was, it just didn’t fully register in the mess that was his thoughts.
“I messed up- I messed up so many times.” Jason confessed. Ignoring the things he had no control over, Jason didn’t have to stay away and hurt his family. He didn’t have to start killing people and taking over Gothams criminal world.
A question weighed heavy on Jason's mind as he hesitated to ask it. His need for answers outweighs his fear for what Dicks reply would be. His stomach rolling at speeds that made him feel sick as forced the words past the lump in his throat.
“If- if your brother came back..had to do questionable things to come back. Would you still love him the same?” He questioned with a stuttering breath.
There was no hesitation in his voice when he answered, “Yes.” Jason didn’t need for DIck to expand on his answer, he could hear everything in his voice. The slight waver at the end, the way he kind of dragged out the word, the love spilled from such a short answer.
“Tell me about him-” He was speaking before thinking again. A want filled his mind as he wished to hear of Dicks stories about their time spent shared years ago. Even if he now felt like an outsider looking in, memories buried from years of death and months of green, he wanted to be reminded of when things were simple.
Jason heard Dicks breath catch, caught off guard by the request. Silence stretched over the line as he readied himself for the disappointment of Dick not agreeing. Prepared to feel his heart drop with a coldness, the pit in him deepened as he sank into his covers.
He heard some shuffling on the other side of the line, a small huff of air before he heard Dicks voice again. It was sweet not like honey but like the warm air spring brought, his words spoken soft at the fear that they might break something, fondness and love mixing together at the retelling of old stories. Undereverything Jason could pick out the hurt still, small yet there, the grief that clung to the end of each sentence. He hesitates when speaking of certain moments, the way he would pause and leave a hallowed silence didn’t feel right.
He took an hour and made it feel like minutes. His voice fills the room as well as Jason's mind. The stories pulling up some of the less buried memories he had, flashes of warm smiles and whispers of forgotten laughs filled his head along with his brother's voice.
Eventually Dick stopped, taking a breath from his long rant. Letting a comfortable silence settle in this time. Jason stared into his phone, sitting weak in his grip as he had relaxed at some point. He could feel the way his cheeks pulled up, a soft smile set on his face.
“I should be going now, I’m sorry. I hope you start doing better, bye.”
Goodbye Dick. Jason wanted to say. The words were heavy in his mouth.
“Bye.” He said instead. Listening for the beep that would let him know Dick had hung up. It was long after he said bye that he heard it.
Jason let his phone slip fully from his grip as the screen timed out. Leaving him in the darkness as he pulled his blankets even closer to his body, trying to get some warmth from them. It wasn’t the same.
He would sleep off the storm of emotions currently filling his head before he decided what to do next.
–
Dick sagged in the chair underneath him, momentarily ignoring the looks of his family as he proceeded the conversation he just had. Memories of his deceased brother pulled up from the depths in which he had shoved him, a hurt he hadn’t felt in a long while.
“Soo-” Tim had started. Always the one to speak when everyone else knew to stay silent. “Who was that?” He asked.
Dragging his hands down his face with a sigh Dick finally lifted his head. Confused looks shared with most of the people in the cave, Bruce the only one to have a deep scowl as he was deep in thought. Hearing some of Dicks conversation when he had entered the room probably resurfaced the man's own memories.
“I don’t know. The man's voice was so familiar, yet it seemed so new to me.” He looked conflicted as he stood up. The number now on his phone, and he would be looking into it. He worked on the computer as Tim joined his side.
“Perhaps an old friend? One maybe from before your days a robin, or maybe during these days.” He offered. It didn’t seem to be the case, something in Dick being off since the man first greeted him. One thing stuck out to him, how the man didn’t ask his name in return, the familiarity in how he talked, he had to know who dick as. So why didn’t Dick know him?
When the computer came up with nothing, a deep frown set on his face. “How is that possible?” He turned to Bruce. The computer would register even numbers of a burner phone, but to not register the number at all, that was strange.
Bruce could not provide him with any answers. Instead suggesting that Dick put the number in their database in case the stranger called again, but if it didn’t seem like he was planning anything with intent to hurt it was fine to be left alone for now.
Dick hoped it was a one time thing. He didn’t like thinking of Jason, opening up an old wound that had never fully healed. The pain only dull for now, but it would become near unbearable as the days passed, before he could ignore the hurt again.