Archive of Our Own

Jason had always felt bad for the poor person that got saddled with him as a soulmate.

It was common knowledge that soulmates shared pain, which he'd always thought was the universes way of having a laugh. It wasn't fair that his soulmate hurt just because he had a shit life. He knew it would've been hard, even when he was younger and hoped for the day he'd finally get to meet them and live happily ever after. His mum had always told him stories about soulmates, coughs shaking her thin frame as she did. She'd always been larger than the body she was trapped in, she would say. She always putting the poison in, but it came from within too.

It withered her away until she was nothing at all. But he'd always known that she had tried the best she could. They used to get fifty cent waffle cones on the weeks the pain wasn't too bad. The best weeks were when his Dad's work was steady and they could walk down to the foodtruck on the corner three blocks away and he'd buy them all dinner. It happened less and less the older he got, memories of warm food replaced with cramps as his stomach did it's best to try and eat itself from the inside out. Dad was gone by then, and pain became his only constant. He just sort of, got used to it.

Jason, in the intervening years of when he ended up on the streets to when Bruce found him, did a lot he wasn't proud of. He'd learnt young that survival was the only thing that truly mattered, and everything else came second. He slept in abandoned warehouses and pickpocketed and huddled on street corners with the working girls just to get by. Everytime his stomach ached from days without food or his jaw hurt from nights spent on the corners, he'd mutter a little apology under his breath to a person he'd never met, even knowing they couldn't hear it. He always swore the first thing he'd do was apologise, if he managed to live long enough to meet his soulmate.

It was better, the time he got in the manor. He still got injured from patrol, but this was pain from a different type of survival. He couldn't justify it as his only option, but the greater good usually worked. He'd still mutter apologizes under his breath as the bullet and knife wounds were stitched up. He apolgized when he got a concusion and he apologized when he broke a bone. Sometimes it felt like he'd spent his whole life apologizing. He only hoped that when he finally met his soulmate, that they'd accept his apology.

Then fifteen came and went, and it took him along with it.

"Speak a little louder, lamb chop. I think you've got a collapsed lung, that always impedes the auditory" Joker cackles, swinging the crowbar down again and he can do little more now than whimper. His entire body ached and he didn't even have the strength left to squirm away.

Something silver glints, and then Joker's infront of him, smiling at him through yellowed teeth. He can still smell the smoke of Sheila's cigarette. He can't move, but he tries as a pasty hand clenches around his jaw. It aches in a way that means it's probably broken.

"I think it's time we paint this canvas, what do you think birdie?" Joker asks, giggling to himself as Jason tries to force words out and instead all that happens is blood dribbling down his chin.

He realises as the knife gets closer, what the Jokers about to do. He's barely able to think, but he's able to manage one last coherent thought before the knife sinks into his skin.

'I'm sorry'

Jason's vision goes white, and through the blood a scream tears from his chest. It doesn't really work because his lungs are struggling to keep going and he's not sure how, but he knows they're filling with blood. Still, screams continue to try and tear from his chest as the knife carves it's path through his face. From what he can tell they just sound like cut off gurgles as blood fills his mouth. He twitches, muscles too far gone to even squirm now.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally takes the knife away.

"i think we could use a bit more colour, don't you?" Joker grins, and he doesn't even try to move this time as the knife slashes back towards him.

His scream doesn't even make a sound this time.

Blood seeps into his eye as it burns and Jason's vaguely aware that he can't see anything at all out of his right eye now. The knife swipes down on him a couple more times, but his body is so beat that he can't even make it move enough to resist. He does manage to spit some blood in Joker's face, but that's really more a splutter from the blood filling his lungs. Static rings in his ears for what feels like years.

He can't tell how much time has passed. He almost thinks he's left, as the silence stretches on. They've been at this for long enough for him to know the Joker is never silent. Then, he hears it, the dull click of a timer. One minute.

"Come on, Jason, get up!" A voice begs and his vision sways, as he tries to push himself up with his hands only to fall back down.

"Come on, you need to disable the bomb" the voice urges, but between his battered body and only one working eye, he knows better than to even try.

Thirty seconds.

Slowly he drags himself to the door, blood dribbling down his chin and staining the floor as he does. The voice continues like a persistent buzzing in his ear, but he can't even understand what it's saying anymore. He can feel her hands on him, sorta, but he doesn't have the strength to push her away. He forces his hand up and onto the handle, forces himself to tug despite the way his body screams and is rewarded with a jerk that means it's locked. From the outside.

The voice disappears from near him, and he doesn't have the strength nor the energy to work out why. All he knows is that he's never meeting his soulmate.

Ten seconds.

It's not a lot of time to come to terms with his whole life but he tries. He wishes he could've had more time. That he could've met his soulmate and gotten to truly know them. That he could've lived without pain. It's an end he'd always known was coming, but that doesn't make it any easier to swallow. He stares down the timer with his one working eye and manages one last thought as the final seconds of his life tick down in front of him.

"I'm so sorry"

Three.

Two.

One.

The last thing he feels is burning and the last thing he tastes is smoke, mixed with blood. For a moment his entire body lights up in pain, before it all fades away.

Things hadn't exactly improved when he came back to life either, but all he could hope was that his soulmate had gotten a break from the pain, for a little while anyway. Especially since when he came back it was with all the injuries he had when he died, all the pain all over again. Proof laid in the hospital records Talia had, but he didn't need the proof. He'd felt it all before.

jasons entire life had been pain, and it seems that death was no exception to that. The LOA had torn to shreds the only pieces of him left, had broken him down again and again just to build him back up into what they wanted him to be. Whips and branding and biting cold all left their mark on his skin, but these he bared proudly, because it was him wearing these marks and not little Damian. He took far more punishment than he was due to protect Damian, and he'd do it all over again. He still whispered little apologies every time, but he wouldn't change what he'd done.

He would change confronting Batman. Bleeding out on his safe house floor as he tried to stitch his own neck back together was a different type of pain. Each throb of the needle piercing his skin, the burning pain of the knife through his throat. He'd nearly blacked out three times by the time he managed to finish up the stitches. It ached for nearly two months before it became less painful and more itchy. It's two months spent whispering apologies under his breath, because even after all this time, the only thing he'd managed to bring his soulmate is pain. He knows they're still there, because he feels aches he knows aren't from his own patrol. Sometimes worse injuries, but not as often. From the pattern, he'd guess they were someone also in this line of business, but he wasn't about to go asking around.

His mum used to tell him that he'd meet his soulmate at the time in his life that he needed them most. He wasn't sure he believed her, because how much more desperate can you get than dying. Than bleeding out in your own kitchen because your adoptive father slit your throat. Though technically Bruce had disowned him, so maybe he wasn't even his father at all anymore. Maybe that was a good thing, because he didn't think he could look him in the eye again after this. Bruce had promised he'd never hit him, but he'd broken that promise well before he was laid in a grave. Maybe he'd been a fool for ever believing him.

There's a part of him that doesn't want to meet his soulmate at all. He'd only ever brought pain and misery to them, who knows how much worse it would get if they actually met. It'd be nice to meet, if only to give all those apologies he owed them. Make a promise to stay out of their life. Apologies for all the pain he has yet to cause. Because he knows his life will continue to be pain and that will probably never change.

It's been a long day. He'd beat a hasty retreat from the manor to the sound of Dick calling for him. He'd wanted to turn around, but he couldn't. Not anymore. He'd tried, he'd given Bruce a chance and tried to work together again and it just ended the same way. He was done beating a dead horse. There was nothing to gain, fuck, he wasn't even sure there was anything salvagable. With Dick, maybe. But Bruce had burnt the bridge to ash and if he was plainly and truly honest, Jason didn't think he had it in himself to try and rebuild it again.

It's not until he's just about to crash that he catches a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror, that another little tidbit he learnt about soulmates comes to mind. As well as sharing pain, scars will also transfer depending on the significance of the injury. It's not every scar, and they do usually fade for the soulmate who didn't receive the scars after they've properly met. He knows his soulmate is still out there due to the regular pangs of pain that shoot through him that he can't attribute to old injuries or new ones. He meets his own eyes in the reflection, taking stock of his own appearance.

Jason had never been particularly fond of his appearance. He'd been a little street rat and he'd looked the part. Then he'd come back in a body that was too big and grown and not him in ways that could send him spiralling for days. He learnt how to work it, how to use it to his own advantage. The gap between fifteen and nineteen was something that would always haunt. It would always be there, and it would always be noticed. He doesn't tend to look in mirrors at all since he clawed his way out of the pit, because while the pit healed, it did not erase. It didn't heal what already was.

That means there's little indents and lines all over his body from the crowbar digging into his skin. It means the jagged 'J' the Joker carved into his face is still there. It's accompanied by angry slashes through the right side of his face, carving a line through his eyebrow and across the bridge of his nose. All things that healed when he ended up in that Gotham hospital, months before he was submurged in the pit. There's a 'Y' across his entire chest, an autopsy scar. Most of the time he didn't mind the scars, and in a twisted way they were almost comforting. Because the scars mean he's here, it means that it happened, it was real and it was horrible and he had proof. He has unchangable proof of the horrors of his life mapped across his skin. It makes it undeniable. It means it's not just in his head.

The downside is, every scar that helps Jason remember he's still breathing on nights that get a little too dark and silent are forcibly inflicted on the unlucky soul fated to him.

"Fuck this!" Jason growls, cheeks wet and he's swinging before he even realises that he's doing it.

Glass shatters, into the sink and across the tiled floor. Fragments stare back at him, fractured and broken, the outside now reflecting the within. There's blood on his knuckles now, and the sting of the glass digging into his skin pulls him back to the present. For a moment he just stares. At the blood, at the glass covering the floor, at himself.

"I'm s-so sorry" Jason whispers, the scar across his throat aching as he looks down at his knuckles and can only feel nausea swirling in his stomach at the thought that'd he just caused more pain. After all the pain he already had.

He caused his soulmate enough pain without intentionally adding to it.

At this point, if they ever did meet, he owed them far more than the apologies he's been planning since he was a child. He wouldn't blame them if they never spoke to him again. It's not super common, but people don't always stay with their soulmates. It doesn't have to be anything at all, and despite the ache he's had in his chest since he was a child for someone to finally choose him, he can't imagine a world where they meet and that is case. People had walked out on him his whole life, what was one more?

Painstakingly he begins the process of pulling the glass shards out of his knuckles. The tweezers shake in his hands and every sudden jolt sends another spark of pain through his hand. A whispered apology follows each move, the periodic aches in his throat making the words catch. He was twenty now, and it had been years since he clawed himself up and out of the grave and he still just felt stuck. Like he was still on that warehouse floor, blood pooling underneath him and cold numbing him through to his bones. He could still feel it all.

Gotham used to be home, all those years ago. He wished it wasn't, but it felt like death and a ressurection were enough to change that. He couldn't get better, not here, not now. Maybe one day, when the hurts weren't a gaping wound he could come back. But twenty and crying on his bathroom floor because he could barely stand to look at himself wasn't getting better. Bruce had already made his stance clear, and he hadn't quite been able to build the courage to approach Dick. Not when he knows that if it had been Dick on the other side of that batarang, he may not have clawed his way out of the rubble.

He and Bruce had been fracturing long before Jason ended up in the ground. Whereas Dick? Well, they were brothers. They'd become brothers by the time he boarded that plane to Ethiopia. Dick had been the last person he ever called, and sometimes, he couldn't help but wonder if Dick had ever listened to that voicemail. He wondered if Dick had missed him, if he had felt his loss the way Jason felt it now? Like a piece of his soul he'd never get back, and he knew leaving Gotham meant giving up the chance to get it back.

But as he sits pulling glass from his bleeding knuckles, he decides it's a choice he can live with.

If he's got any chance of being at least a half decent soulmate, he's gotta start pulling himself together. So, like he has so many times before, he forces himself onto his feet and mechanically wraps his knuckles to stop them from getting worse. There's not much he has to do, and he realises there's something a little depressing about the fact that he can still fit his entire life into one bag. All the things he actually needs anyway. For the first time there's nothing actually tying him to Gotham, he doesn't have to stay. For the first time, he gets to be selfish

Jason sighs, shuffling into his bedroom and collapsing onto the bed. He'd gotten answers from Bruce, even if they weren't the ones he wanted it. It was still an answer and it was closure in a way. An acknowledgment of what he'd always known, that Batman had always and would always come above all else. Nothing would ever come before the mission, not even family. For somebody who was seen as a paragon of morality in the hero community, he wasn't all that great. He'd nearly killed him just to avoid killing the Joker. He was unmoving, unshakable. Normally, that would admirable. But that unwillingness to change had driven both him and Dick away. He'd died, and Bruce still didn't see what he'd actually done wrong.

He'd always known, but it still stung to have it thrown in his face that he died and Bruce still wouldn't accept where he was wrong.

Still, closure isn't just getting the answer you want, but the answer you need. It confirmed a lot for him, including the fact that there is no place for them to reconcile. There is no world where they fall back into playing the roles of father and son. Maybe one day they can be in the same room, exist in the same space. But that time is not now. He'd been given his answer and now he was going to leave. There is no place for him here, not anymore, if there ever even was in the first place. He'd wanted Bruce to prove him wrong, to prove he cared, but he'd known better than to hope.

The scar on his throat throbs, and Jason sighs, rubbing at it gently. He'd have to be careful talking for the next few days. Leslie, after she'd put him back together had told him it nicked his voice box. That he'd have a small stutter for the rest of his life. Bruce can twist his words and turn himself in circles, it doesn't matter. There was nothing justifiable in what he;d done and there never would be, no matter what he told himself so he could sleep at night. No matter if what he'd accused him of was true. None of it matters, because he knows now that it's time to go. Tomorrow he'll leave, both the city and Bruce and all the pain he'd caused him. He'd done his time, played his role. He may not have been given the discharge papers, but he sure as hell was walking away. Hopefully, for the better.

He'd more than earnt his honorable discharge by now.

His phone lights up, and the glare of it pierces his eyes as he attempts to read the messages.

B is for Bitch: your access to the cave has been revoked

Big Bird: I'm so sorry Little Wing. If you ever want to talk, just call. I love you

He probably owes Dick a full explanation, but he's not sure he's got that in him. Maybe one day he'll finally tell him everything he always meant to. Maybe they'll never speak again. Maybe one day Dick'll make it out too. He thinks he'd probably be able to help with the soulmate stuff, but he isn't going to ask. He can't. Not when reconciling with him would just be another excuse not to leave. Not when he'd already come back several times at the promise of the second chance of being brothers. Not when no matter what Bruce ended up running him out of the city. Not when he knew that if he didn't get out now, he never would.

He'd always just needed a reason. Now, he finally had one.

It's a no brainer, who to call.

"Hey Jaybird, i thought you were in G-"

"Are you still in Star?" he asks, cutting Roy off before he can finish. The line goes silent for a beat, but he knows Roy wouldn't have hung up.

"Yeah, for the next week or so for this bust, why?"

"Got room for some backup?" he asks jokingly, but his voice is far too fragile for it to sound believable.

"Always Jay, when will you be here?"

and that's why Roy Harper is his bestfriend.

"By Morning"

"I'll go by that cafe we went to last time, do you want the same you got last time?"

"Yeah, that'll be fine"

"Alright then, see you in a few hours Jaybird"

For a moment after the call ends Jason just stands there, staring down at the blank phone screen. It felt too easy. He'd always felt like he'd never get out, or he'd die trying to. But all it took was a phone call. A single phone call and he was leaving. Really and truly leaving for the first time. He'd left before, that was always with the knowledge he'd come back and he had. Whether it was in a casket or on his own two feet, every single time he left he ended up walking straight back in.

There's something different about it compared to before, as he packs up the last few scraps of his life. Maybe its because he's weary and worn to the bone. Maybe it's because something in his soul is finally falling into alignment. Maybe because leaving doesn't feel like a chain around his neck, but like the noose has been cut. Maybe it's because every step closer to leaving feels lighter. Maybe it's because he knows Roy'll be there when he lands. Maybe, it's because it finally feels like he's heading for something brighter.

He knew, down to the scars in his soul he knew, he could not survive Gotham any longer. It had chewed him up and spit him out, and the person he is now is just what he'd been able to salvage from the wreckage. Gotham had been the noose around his neck growing tighter each day, and he's only now just realising it. Gotham was killing him, winding up to the land the final blow. He'd been beating a dead horse for years now, and it was finally time to bury it. He tried, Diana knows he'd tried. He worked and trained and fought and done his best to be the soldier they all thought he was.

He was tired, a deep, bone-weary tired.

He was tired, and maybe when this was buried once and for all he'd finally get some sleep.

He was done being the ghost that haunted the family portraits. He'd died, and by the time he'd dug himself out of the ground, his space had been filled. He was a footnote, a byline in the biography of Robin, The Boy Wonder. He was a memory, the echo of a childs laughter and the manifestation of everything that always was. His name is Jason Todd, and he's alive.

He's alive, and for the first time, it actually feels true.

Goodbye, who would've thought it'd be so easy?

"C'mon Jaybird" Roy whines, trying and failing to pull his attention away from the gun he's cleaning.

Out of his periphery he can see Kori roll her eyes, not even looking up from scrolling on her phone. Seems neither of them felt like indulging Roy's newest crazy idea. Jason had drawn the line at Roy testing a blowtorch on him, while he was in the shower. Now, unless Roy set the ship on fire, it was not his issue.

"It'll only take a few days, and it's not like we've had any luck tracking down any Untitled so far since the last ones" Roy tries again, and unfortunately, he does actually have a point.

Kori and Roy had joined him in hunting down Untitled. Well, it was more travelling around and taking down whatever bad guys they came across while conveniently tracking a few Untitled as well. They hadn't been making much progress on that front. After the last few he'd taken down it was like they'd all gone to ground. They hadn't found any in almost two months. So, they'd decided to give space a try, see if they had more luck fighting shit in the sky then on the ground. So far, they had. So Roy wanting a few days, well, it kinda made sense. Not that he was going to tell Roy that. Or give in so easily. If Roy really want to do it, he'd just fly the ship there himself without even consulting them. Asking them means he wants them to participate in some fashion.

Forgive him for holding some reservations, he was still holding onto the fact that Roy set his towel on fire, while he was wearing it. He though the skepticism was justified.

"There's been dissapearances every fortnight like clockwork. It's on a fairly friendly planet and they've asked for any assistance possible. Isn't that what we're meant to be doing Jaybird? Helping people?" Roy asks, completely ignoring both Jason and Kori's lack of response to his needling.

"They've sent a transmission requesting assistance?" Kori asks, and Jason groans internally because if she's asking it means she's already made up her mind.

"They sent it two days ago"

"And it was urgent?"

"Yeah, apparently their government is falling apart? I don't really understand the politics, but it does sound like the people going missing are linked to high ranking government officials"

"You think it could be a set up?"

"I think it's probably not accidentally. It's really worth looking into at least" Eiy shrugs, turning to Jason again who keeps his face straight not give away the fact he's already resigned to it.

"Look. It could be nothing. Maybe it is just bad timing. But I think it's worth it to investigate for a couple days" Roy tries, leaning forward as he talk "if we don't find anything we can pack up ands do. But I think it's worth it, because what if it is something"

Fuck, he hated how persuasive Roy could be when he wanted to.

Unfortunately, he wasn't wrong either. Everything they were looking into had hit a road block for the time being and they don't have any other pressing cases. There was nothing else they needed to be doing. He was reluctant to head into a planet while not really knowing the first thing about it, there was too many unknowns. But he's done more with less, and majority rules.

"We keep travelling as we are and we'll be there in the next two days" Jason says and Roy grins like he's won, though he doesn't do anything as obvious as point out his victory.

Roy knows him better than that. It's nice, most of the time.

Sometimes it still seems insane that anybody cares at all, let alone both Roy and Kori. But it's not just that. Roy knows him, better than maybe anybody alive. Roy knows him in and out. Knows what he'll say, what he'll do. It's kinda terrifying, but it also feels so good, to be known so well. He can't hide from him, not like he does everybody else. Even Kori knows him, and she didn't turn away once she did. They'd never discussed anything aloud, not like when he shared with Roy. But there was an understanding between them, something that didn't need words. They didn't need words, not anymore. it was something he never thought he'd get to have, but somehow he did.

He didn't think he'd ever get to have a family again and yet…

Roy flops down next to him, pressing his shoulder into Jason's. it's a comforting pressure, grounding. It's something Roy had figured out early on. Hugs could be too restricting, but shoulders or hands touching were okay. A reminder that he's here, he's alive. He was better than Jason ever could deserve. There'd been a moment where he'd wondered if Roy was meant to be his soulmate, but when they touched and no lights followed, he was oddly relieved. He wasn't sure what he would've done if he found out all his pain and suffering had been reflected on Roy all these years. So, yeah, he was relieved it wasn't him, even though he couldn't imagine someone knowing him better than Roy does.

It had been a year since he'd left Gotham with his tail between his legs, and he couldn't be better.

It was the best decision he'd ever made, leaving that night. Looking back now, a year on, he could see how close he was to falling apart completely. He's not sure he could've come back from it. He'd made his peace now, with Bruce, with Gotham. He'd always love it for what it had been, but he also resented it for what it became. There was no road home, not when Bruce had twisted the story over and over to the point that he wasn't sure Bruce even knew what the real story anymore. There was no making amends, not when Bruce would never see where he was wrong, when he'd never admit it. There was no way for him to go back, to let Bruce back in his life when the mission still came above all else. He knew that it always would, he knew that from long before he first stepped foot into the manor that the mission came first, family second.

It wasn't fair, it never was. Not to him, and certainly not to Dick. Not even his death had been enough to change anything. Now it was simply a weapon Bruce wielded as a method of control. Morality was the difference they could not reconcile. Because to Bruce his moral mission came above all else and for Jason, well, he believed in family more than anything, all versions of it. Even as a young child he'd been taught to know when something was beyond saving, a lesson brought by the starving strays that became just another notch in the alley's belt. Maybe in a better world everybody could get the help they needed, but this was not that world and he believed there were some things, some acts so depraved there was no coming back from. Irreconcilable differences led to the fork in the road, and inevitably they took their own paths.

He was done shedding tears and wasting time on a life he'd never get back, but he only wished Bruce could continue to live without disparaging him at every turn. He just wanted to rest, and he couldn't even get that.

Maybe one day those differences won't be the size of a ravine they could never hope to cross, but today is not that day. He is glad that he left, and he thinks Roy is too.

"You alright Jaybird?"

"Yeah, I think I am" he says with a shrug and almost real smile and he thinks Roy believes him too.

It's nice, to say he's okay and actually believe it. It's nice to actually feel okay for once. He thinks Roy gets that from the way he leans over and squeezes his shoulder gently. He can't remember ever feeling as understood as he did now, sitting here in silence with the person who knew him best in the world.

Jason understood now, that his death had been a tragedy. It had been terrible, and it had left shockwaves. It had brought it all to ruin. Grieving is for the living, after all. He thought it would've been quiet, the manor. It would've been empty, when Bruce came back alone from Ethiopia. It was a silence he never wanted. He knew Bruce had to reckon with that. He knew it had ruined him, and he did not blame him for that. He blamed him, not for his death, but for everything that followed. He knew they both had their scars, but Bruce had made the deliberate choice to wield his grief as a blade. He'd twisted the facts and changed the story. His guilt had been placated by everybody scrambling to find someone else to place the blame on. The blame that should lay at the Jokers feet, but was instead turned on him. He had become the reason for his own demise in an effort to ease Bruce's own guilt. He had died the way he lived, a footnote in the story of Bruce's life. A pillar as a means to propel him upwards.

If he had his way he'd never see Bruce again, because there really is only so much that can be forgiven.

Jason did not need to forgive to move on, and he wouldn't. He had his scars, and he knew Bruce did too. But Jason had done his time. He'd walked away, and he'd been all the better for it.

So, yeah, all things considered, he is ok. Who would've thought?

"So, where is it you want us to go exactly?" Jason asks, and Roy lights up, jumping to his feet and racing away all while rambling in a way he can't fully keep up with. But he doesn't need to, he's content in watching Roy trip over his own feet and Kori laugh. He's happy, here in this moment in time that for so long never seemed possible.

It's not quite complete, because he's always had people to miss and he always willl. There's faces that should be here, laughter that joins the others in his mind. A sarcastic quip and sharp smile. It's a miracle that's he's gotten this. This chance. These people. It's the best he'd been in a long time, but he'd always be aware of the people that didn't get this far and of the people he'd been too afraid to see.

He'd avoided Hollywood because he didn't know what he'd say, if he saw Eddie again. He visited Grant's grave sometimes, when he got the chance, but he never lingered. Joey, well, he was Joey. He'd always been light, despite it all. He'd been kindness in a sea of resentment and judgement. A friendly face in an angry crowd. He'd never held Robin against him, not like everyone else did, and for that he'd always been grateful. They belonged now to a time in his life long since past, one he won't ever see again. But if given half a chance he'd like to see them, one last time.

There were others, ones that belonged to a time long before a traffic light suit and swinging across rooftops. There were people now that only lived in the depths of Jason's memories. The little girl from the apartment below that he used to play hopscotch with. The boy that taught him how to hotwire, how to fix up cars. The boy that taught him to steal, and the one that taught him to fight. He could barely picture their faces these days. It takes him a minute to find their names, and he hates that it does. They deserved more than only existing in his memory, but life had never been fair on any of them.

If it was, the room would be full.

While there's people he misses, and people he always will, he can't help but smile. Because it's small and it's rough and they don't have it all figured out, but it's good. Kori and her enthusiasm and wonder. Roy and his quick wit and quicker mind. It's not, where he thought he'd be, but it's good. It's better than he ever could've imagined. It's more than he'd ever thought he'd get. Kori and Roy had chosen him, over and over again. It spoke volumes, the fact that they could go back to the hero world at anytime and instead they chose to be here, floating through space with him. They chose to be ostracised with him, they knew what it meant when they went with him and they still did. They chose him, and he's not sure he'll ever find a way to repay them for it.

Maybe, if the time for his soulmate comes around it won't be the tragedy he always feared. He's far, far from healed. He's got a long way to go, but a start is a start. He's trying. He's healing, in his own way. He's getting better, he's already better than he's ever been. It's been a long road, and it's going to be longer still. He knows that, but he can't help but he proud of how far he's already come. From breaking down on his bathroom floor with bleeding knuckles to laughing with his friends. It hasn't been easy or particularly pleasant, but he'd gotten through it. For the first time he can believe he lived through it for a reason, and not just a cosmic mistake.

Jason knows he's not the soulmate anybody deserves. He'll always have his scars and nightmares. His PTSD will never go away, and he'll probably have panic attacks forever. It's a product of the life he's lived, and there's no escaping it. It'll follow him forever, but, it's not the death sentence he once saw it as. He's still going to apologise first thing if he ever does meet his soulmate, but it's not about that anymore. He's not trying to be better for a soulmate or family or anybody. He's trying to be better for himself, and for the first time, he feels like he actually is.

"Jaybird!"

There's a crash and then Roy's on the floor and somehow the sink is on fire. Kori tries to put it out and only makes it worse. Roy's tangled in a bunch of wires and is just laying on the ground like a corpse, completely accepting of his circumstances. Unlike twelve months ago, Jason chuckles and gets to his feet. He bypasses Roy for the sink that's still on fire.

"Here Kori, use this" Jason says, chucking a fire blanket towards her that she places over the fire instantly dousing it.

"Hey Jaybird, help me out?" Roy asks meekly, looking up at him from his wire prison on the floor. Jason just raises an eyebrow and Roy pouts.

"Please Jaybird! Remember all those times I helped you?"

"I'll do the dishes?"

"I'll promise not to test anymore inventions on you while your in the shower?"

That's actually, a pretty tempting offer. Sold.

Jason sighs, methodically untangling Roy who sits there entirely unhelpfully. He considers smacking him, but he doesn't have the patience to deal with the wires getting tangled again.

"You could've done this yourself"

"Yeah, but I didn't"

"Why?"

"Because it got you out of your head" Roy says with a knowing smirk, and Jason hates that he's right.

Roy knows him almost too well for comfort these days, to the point it still startles him. He'd never had someone know him so well before, to know how to so easily get him out of his own head that he didn't realise it happened until it did. He owed Roy more than he could ever repay, and he thinks Roy knows. But he doesn't leave, and to him, that's all he's ever needed.

It really is truly mortifying, being known.

"Yeah, yeah" Jason huffs, wacking Roy away and getting to his feet.

"You love me"

"If it helps you sleep at night"

"It really, really does"

"fuck off"

"Our first conversation was while you were breaking me out of prison, you only have yourself to blame for this"

"Yeah, i guess i do"

"Hey Jaybird?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you broke me out that day"

"Me too"

Jason is going to kill Roy.

The arrival to the planet itself had been fine, but it turns out they weren't the only ones to get the message. Not five minutes since they'd arrived and started, green lights approach.

"You've got to be kidding me" Jason grumbles as several Green Lanterns land infront of them. Kori waves happily. They wave back.

Jason's going to kill Roy.

"Roy? Is that you?" A familiar voice asks, and Hal Jordan is exactly like Jason remembers. Roy grins, easily accepting the offered hug.

"It's good to see you Uncle Hal" Roy laughs, smile bright and it melts the ice as the rest of the Lanterns approach.

Guy Gardener. John Stewart. Kyle Rayner. Admittedly he didn't know any of them well. He knew Gardener pissed Bruce off more than Hal did, which automatically made him cool. He never met John, but if his reputation was anything to go off he was very impressive. The most he'd heard about Rayner was that he'd done a stint on the Titan's. He hangs back, unlike Roy and Kori who greet the group with open arms.

See, he didn't know the other Lanterns, but he definitely knew Hal Jordan. Dick had been the Robin known best to the League, hell Supes was basically his other dad. He'd been adored by all of them. Jason hadn't ever really met them, besides saving B, Supes and Wonder Woman once. Bruce hadn't ever really taken him around them that much. But, he'd become close with Hal.

Jason had met Hal on one of the few occasions Bruce took him to the WatchTower. He'd run into Green Lantern and pestered him with questions about planes for a few hours. Hal had been something almost parent adjacent, for awhile there. He used to go to coast city, to see him. Hal would teach him how to work on planes, which were different to the cars he was used to. He'd been meant to go visit, the week he was set to come back from Ethiopia.

For a moment he wonders about it. Wonders about just removing his mask and telling him. He could, it would only take a moment. But the scar on his neck still aches and he can feel the blood covering his hands and he knows he isn't ready. Not yet. He doesn't think Hal would react like Bruce, but he'd also never expected Bruce to slit his throat. He'd been wrong before and he couldn't be again, not about this.

So he hangs back, letting the others talk and plan. He can tell Roy notices but he doesn't push, though he'll definitely find a way to ask about it later. It's enough, just to see him again. He never thought he'd even get that much. Accepted it even. He's not ready to open that door, not yet anyway. He's still got a lot to deal with before he can even begin to walk towards that door, but one day he will. One day they'll get their reunion, but he's still a little to raw for that.

"Why don't we pair off then?" Roy is suggesting when Jason finally decides to drift closer "we're all here for the same thing anyway. Makes sense to pair off, cover all the possible next targets" it's interesting, watching Roy plan. He was far smarter than he ever seemed to get credit for.

"Sounds like a solid enough plan to me" Guy shrugs, nodding his head and the others make their own noises of agreement.

"Well, there's four possible targets from what we can tell. John and Kori can cover the first target, Hood and Kyle can take the second, me and Guy'll take the third and since odd numbers Hal can cover the fourth on his own" Roy decides, look up to scan the group for any disagreements but he doesn't get any.

Jason, isn't entirely sure about Rayner. He'd only met him a handful of times and never really spoken to him directly. But Roy did know him, so he trusted his judgement on this. Hopefully they could weed out who was behind the attacks soon and they could get back to travelling. At least Roy hadn't partnered him with Hal, he wasn't quite ready for that.

"Well, best get moving then" John says, prompting the rest of them to start gathering their gear and preparing.

He purposely lingers back towards Kori's ship, watching the others chat as they prepare. That was something he hadn't been used to before joining Roy and Kori. Bruce had never been the most talkative of people and he hadn't worked with Dick enough times for anything to rub off. The League had been quiet, because noise got you killed. There had been no choice but to be silent. So now he finds it almost hard to relax into the banter and laughter while gearing up. He doesn't have to do much anyway, considering he kept most of his gear on him at all times. His throat tingles, but he doesn't do anything so obvious like reaching for it. He was getting there, but sometimes, it didn't quite feel like it.

So he grabs his weapons and hopes they have this wrapped up soon.

"Ready Jaybird?"

"Always"

He was never listening to Roy again.

It was meant to be easy, so in true fashion it only took five minutes for everything to go to shit. Turns out it was several groups that had all decided to attack at once. Because his life never could be easy. Assassin, which, was kinda disappointing for a space mission. He could find assassins anywhere on earth, he lived with them for years. Fuck, hewas an asssasin. So, this wasn't even going to be all that entertaining. Assassins never had a sense of humour. There was also way too many of them, it was like fighting Black's Masks goons. Fuckin everywhere. Useless, but annoying, and it seems he's not the only one feeling that sentiment.

"I am never agreeing to a plan of Roy's again" Rayner complains, conjuring up a large green hand and swiping a cluster of assassins off the roof in one swift movement. He'd never say it out loud, but the Lantern's powers were still as fascinating now as they had been the first time.

"You're not the only one Rayner" Jason huffs, snatching a knife from the grip of the closest approaching assassin and with a flick of his wrist embeds it into their throat. He drags it roughly back out, paying no mind to the splatter of blood it causes already turning it on another approaching assailant.

They aren't even particularly skilled assassins. But they do make up for their lack of skill in sheer numbers. It's like one goes down and three more appear. It's torture in the form of the worlds worst game of wack-a-mole. At least none of them had any clue what they were doing with knives.

"Seriously, you really thought that was going to work?" He asks as he snags the hand swiping towards him and with a rough twist snaps their wrist in half. The knife in the Assassin's grasp falls easily into his palm and with one quick slice they slump to the ground. He flips the knife contemplatively, it's a good knife. Sturdy handle, easy to manoeuvre. He'll keep it, his souvenir from this planet.

"These guys just keep coming" Rayner groans, using a newly conjured green rope to wipe another three assassins off the roof.

With a sigh Jason holsters the knife, easily switching straight for his gun and aiming for the swarms further out. The crack of gunshots echo in the air and he almost feels more settled with the familiar weight in his hands. He falls into trying to thin the approaching herd, letting Rayner take care of the more close range opponents. To his credit, Rayner doesn't pause for more than half a second before slipping easily into watching his back. He doesn't even have to say anything, Kyle just moves instinctively into the open spaces, covering his back. It's oddly nice. It's not something he's ever had besides Kori and Roy, and even that had taken a long time to get to.

He relaxes into it, and that's his mistake.

One minute, everything is fine and they're fighting together like it's what they're made for. The crowd is finally beginning to thin and he's starting to believe he might even get some time to sleep before they have to leave. Rayner's smiling as he deflects hits, a green glow encasing him as he spins in the air. He lands with a kick that sends two assassins sprawling. With two cracks the last apporaching assassins fall and he finally let's himself breathe. He turns to find Rayner already looking at him, a grin on his lips that does not make his heart beat faster not at all.

"Well that wasn't so bad-" Rayner starts but before he can finish a crack echoes through the air and suddenly he's going backwards and Jason moves.

It's instinct that has him reaching out and snagging Rayner's arm before he can go crashing a hundred feet down. He doesn't think, just pulls Rayner up and over the side of the building as quickly as he can manage. Footsteps thud towards them and as soon as Rayner's safely back on the roof he spins around and let's loose a knife. It hits it's mark and not a second later the thump of a body follows it. Jason huffs, laying back against the rooftop and simply breathing for a moment. It's only then that his eyes catch on his hand, his hand that's glowing.

Oh. Oh.

He can feel a pit beginning to form in his stomach as he stares down at his hand in disbelief. A glance at Rayner show's his arm is glowing in the exact spot Jason had grabbed him. He's silent for long enough that Rayner starts to shift and it's that movement that let's him see the exact moment he looks at his arm and realizes. His eyes are wide as he looks at his own arm in wonder. Rayner at least does not seem to handling it any more gracefully than Jason is, given his wide eyed stare at his own arm. For a moment all Jason can hear is the sound of his own heartbeat and he can't breathe.

When he finally tears his gaze from his own arm he finds Rayner is already looking at him, cheeks red and eyes glowing as the colour rapidly changes. He really is unfairly pretty and Jason's sure he could sit here studying the colours for hours. His soulmate.

Oh no.

The real world, as it often does, comes screaming back into focus. His heart in his throat and Rayner is just watching him expectantly and he really does have a soulmate. He wants to be happy, he wants to be excited but the fear always lingering in the back of his mind comes roaring to the forefront and he can't. Not now. Not like this. So, Jason does the one thing he's always been good at, he runs.

Jason sprints from the rooftop, launching from one to the next and he can hear the echo of shouts as Rayner calls after him, but he doesn't hear what he says. He doesn't want to. He can't face that hope, that excitement only to watch it wash away in a wave of dissapoint. He's not sure he could take it, watching Rayner's expression twist with anger and hurt at the memory of the all the pain he'd caused over the years, at the realisation of who caused that pain. He'd always promised himself he'd apologise if he ever met his soulmate, but he's not quite strong enough for that.

Jason wasn't sure he'd ever stopped running away.

It's Roy that finds him, which is the least surprising part of this whole mess.

Roy, who has always been far far better than he could ever deserve comes quietly. He doesn't demand explanations or shame him for running. If anybody understood running when everything got too heavy, it was Roy. He doesn't yell or ask, he doesn't even say anything at all. He just opens the door and sits opposite him. Waiting. Watching. He doesn't press, just holds out a hand when the shaking becomes too strong to weather alone and offers a gentle squeeze of his hand when it starts to become hard to breathe. It's a kindness well beyond what he deserves. But Roy has always been more than he deserved.

Soulmates, what a tragedy.

His hand is glowing still, dimmer now. He can't help but stare at it. He thinks of Kyle, the surprise on his face that had been melting into something different when he turned tail and ran. He'd never know what his reaction had been, and part of him never wanted to. He looks at Roy, patiently waiting for him to take the first step, like always. Roy had said he was like a shelter dog once, spooked if someone moved too fast and soft once the barrier were knocked down. He'd balked at the time, snarled and darted away and proved Roy's point in half the time it had taken him to say it to begin with. There's a lot of things he could ask, but only one seems important.

"Is he okay?" Jason asks, voice gravelly and Roy's face softens, eyes gentle as they examine him. He let's it happen, because he trusts Roy more than he fears his own emotions. He's a mess, but he's at least somewhat self-aware.

"He's not injured, if that's what you're asking" Roy starts, letting out a heavy sigh "but he's worried. He wants to see you" it's not a question, but a statement. He appreciates it, that Roy knows him well enough to know how he'd react if he had to make a decision now.

"Talk me through it Jay-Bird"

The dam bursts.

"I always hated the idea of soulmates. I thought it was some sort of cosmic joke, that anybody would have the misfortune of being tied to me. From the moment i was born it's just been one thing after the next. One hurt after another. Just this constant pain and guilt because i was taking somebody else down with me. He didn't deserve to feel how i did after nights on the street corners. He didn't deserve the ache came from not eating for days. He didn't deserve the bullet holes and stab wounds. He didn't deserve feeling a crowbar smash into them over and over again until everything felt broken and it was harder to breathe. He didn't deserve the feeling of not being able to breathe and the sting of ripping off their own nails. He didn't deserve feeling their throat being slit. It's just, constant pain and i'm a mess Roy, you know that. How could i ever expect him to forgive me for that?" he doesn't want to cry but his throats burning and his eyes are stinging and he's just so sick of feeling hurt all the time.

"Jason Todd, you listen to me now. I have seen you grow and change and be so good. I've watched as you turned your pain and trauma and turned it into helping people. I know you, Jay. I knew you when you were first wearing that traffic light costume, and i know you. I've had the time of my life being your bestfriend. It's a privledge to know you Jay-Bird, it always has been" Roy says, fiercer then he's ever seen him and if he wasn't already crying he would be now. He doesn't know what he's done to deserve Roy Harper.

But Roy isn't finished.

"You're right, you're soulmate didn't deserve that pain but" Roy's eyes go soft as he squeezes his hand "but neither did you" a sob breaks past his lips and strong arms wrap around him tightly pulling him close. It doesn't feel suffocating or wrong like it used to. It just feels warm and safe and like he's finally found his soft place to land. Finally after so many years, he can let go.

"You never deserved any of it, Jaybird. Never"

Jason, after all these years, shatters.

He'd never let himself fall apart before, not truly. Mostly because he'd never felt safe enough to but also because part of him feared that he was already beyond repair, and that if he fell apart he'd never be able to put himself back together again. For so long everything had only ever been about survival, about making it to the next day. There was never the time or the space or the safety to fall apart. He was so tired. He wanted to be excited about his soulmate. He wanted to sing along to Roy's stupid songs and dance with Kori. He wanted to go out and be an idiot. He wanted to live. He wanted to be young and act like it. He'd borne the weight of the world for so long he wasn't sure he knew what to do without it. But he was ready to try. He wanted to try.

Roy's his Lighthouse. He holds tightly and doesn't sway under the weight of Jason's storm. He doesn't waver, not even for a second. His arms are so tight around him it's almost painful but he doesn't pull away. He doesn't want to. It's like the buzzing under his skin has finally gone quiet as he lets Roy hold him up. He was ready to give up his grief. It had been weighing him down since before he'd even really known what it was. It had been a long few years, but his soulmate is here. He's met him. This is already so much further than he'd ever believed he'd get, and he couldn't help but hope.

He's not sure how long they sit there, Roy holding him tight as he weathers the storm that had become his own mind. He'd spiralled before, particularly last year which had led him here in the first place, but never like he had just now. He wasn't sure what to do next. He knew he was emotionally frayed and fragile. He knew he probably couldn't take another blow, but, he also knows he has to see Kyle. He's not sure what to say or do, but he also knows if he doesn't talk to him now he might never get the chance to. He's still not entirely sure he deserves a soulmate and he's definitely sure Kyle deserves far better than him, barely hanging on by a thread but he wants to try.

"He wants to talk to you" Roy informs, voice soft and he knows no matter what he chooses to do, Roy'll be by his side for it all. There were some ghosts that would always haunt, but they didn't have to define him, not anymore. He wanted to try.

So, he tries.

"Where is he?" Jason asks, wincing at the croak of his own voice as it grates against his throat.

"He was with the other Lanterns" Roy says with a grimace, tilting his head in thought "though i can go find and send him in. I should be able to hold of the peanut gallery long enough for you two to talk" he offers and it's a good idea, it's just, facing the world feels like an impossible task without Roy's familiar comfort by his side.

"It'll be alright, Jaybird no matter what happens. But, just, keep an open mind? I think Rayner might just surprise you" Roy says as he ungracefully scrambles to his feet and very nearly ends up back on his ass.

"It'll be alright Jay-Bird, promise" and with one last flash of a comforting smile he's gone.

The room feels impossibly large without Roy. He's always been able to fill a room, ever since he was speedy and wearing that stupid hat. Not that the graduation to trucker hats had been any better, he thinks, eyeing the hat Roy had dropped in his haste with no small amount of contempt. There's times when Roy feels a little like Dick used to, almost like a safety net. A place to land. It's easy to see why they had been such good friends for so long. Not for the first time he wishes he could talk to Dick about this. He hadn't always said the right thing and he'd never been on time but he tried. Maybe that was a sort of theme within himself, trying. Maybe his biggest problem with Bruce was that he never truly had.

Feeling his throat burn at the thought of Bruce, he turns his thoughts back to soulmates. His soulmate. A part of him, the little kid in him that never truly died, felt like vibrating in excitement. For awhile there he'd dreamed about growing up and meeting his soulmate. It had been good then. But even after talking to Roy he's not sure this conversation will be anything more than his apologies and an awkward parting of ways. Maybe it wouldn't be. Maybe Rayner really would want to try. Maybe he'll see something beyond the anger and scars. Maybe he'll see more than the damage. Maybe the damage will be the only thing he sees.

Maybe he'll just walk away.

But maybe he'll stay.

Despite knowing, he still flinches when the door creaks open. A head peaks around the door and he finds he's not sure he's ever actually properly looked at Rayner before. His first thought is he's pretty. Somehow even after fighting his hair is only stylishly messy. He's got big, bright eyes and dimples in his cheeks. Light freckles dust over the bridge of his nose and when he looks at his eyes again he can see they're changing colour. They seem to settle on a bright blue, with little flecks of gold. He's nervous, Jason realises with a jolt. He's frozen in the doorway, eyes flickering around as the seem to scan him but he doesn't make a move to come any closer. Somehow, seeing Rayner nervous is enough to jolt him out of his own stupour and he's always known what he was going to say if he ever got to this moment.

"I'm sorry" it echoes through the room like a gunshot and jolt of electircity runs through him when Rayner's eyes meet his own. For a moment they just stare at eachother as he processes the words.

"What?" Kyle asks, and hearing him speak properly his voice is deeper than he realised. His brows are furrowed in what he'd almost say was concern if he didn't know better.

"I'm sorry that i'm your soulmate" he says, stronger this time and Rayner flinches back as though he's been struck.

"Why?"

"Because i've done nothing but cause you pain!" Jason shouts, unable to hold his temper under the feeling of Rayner's eyes watching him "i'm sorry because all i ever done is pain and suffering and you had to feel it all. I never wanted a soulmate. I didn't want someone to share my pain and feel it all, day in and day out. I'm sorry the universe screwed you over and i'm sorry that all i'll probably ever do is keep hurting you" he gasps, tears stinging but he doesn't let them fall. Not yet, not when he doesn't know if Rayner is going to take that step inside or if he's going to slam the door in his face.

For a moment it's silence, Rayner's face blank as he seemingly process the words. Then, hesitantly, he steps inside, the door softly falling shut behind him.

Maybe Roy did have a point.

"When i was a kid i used to talk to my Mum about soulmates all the time" Kyle starts, voice low "i used to ask her why it hurt. She'd say it was because some people didn't get to paint at the kitchen table and bring their drawings home from school to be hung on the fridge. I used to ask what i could do to make it better. She told me to do all i could not to cause you pain. I wore a fluffy blanket round my shoulders for a week" he lets out a weak chuckle, his eyes glistening "i could feel it, some nights. All the pain. I promised myself that one day i'd find you and give you a fluffy blanket to wear as a cape and we'd draw at our own kitchen table and hang the drawings on our own fridge" Kyle looks up, tears rolling down his face and extends out his hand.

"I'm not sure a fluffy blanket will be enough to put me back together" Jason admits, voice shakier than he wants it to be and Kyle just smiles.

"I don't want to put you back together. I want you, whoever that turns out to be" Kyle whispers, voice barely above a whisper and so softly, like Jason is something to be careful with, links their fingers together.

Jason's not sure he's even breathing anymore. He crashes forward, wrapping his arms as tight as he can manage around Kyle. He clings like he's never going to let go again. Kyle holds on just as tight, face buried in Jason's neck. His shoulders are shaking and he can't really make out what he's saying but he doesn't need to. They have time.

There's time now. Time to talk and learn and work out who they're going to be. There's time for the hard talks and the trauma and eveyrthing that comes after. There's time to work out how they fit together. There's time for hanging drawings on the fridge. For once in his life, Jason has time, and he's holding on with both hands.

They have time. So Jason holds on and he cries for that little kid who used to try to look for the stars through the smog of the Gotham night sky and wonder if he'd ever get this far. It's not going to be easy, but he wants to try. From the way Kyle's holding on, he wants to try.

He wants to be happy.

Maybe he really does get to just be happy.