Chapter Text
Dick didn't approach Jason on campus.
He could have. The opportunity was there. He spotted him leaving a lecture hall just after noon, weaving through clusters of students with a backpack over one shoulder and a coffee in his hand.
But Jason hated scenes.
More importantly, Dick had learned years ago that if Jason felt cornered, the conversation was over before it began. So he followed at a distance.
Not close enough to be obvious.
Not far enough to lose him.
Jason crossed the campus, cut through a small public park, and eventually made his way toward the river that ran through part of Metropolis. The path became quieter there. Fewer students. Fewer people in general.
By the time Jason finally stopped, they were standing on a riverside walkway overlooking the water. Dick had a feeling Jason knew he'd been there the entire time.
That suspicion was confirmed when Jason spoke without turning around.
"You know, if you're going to tail someone, you're supposed to be subtle about it."
Dick let out a breath. "I was being subtle."
Jason glanced over his shoulder. "No. You weren't."
Dick smiled despite himself.
Jason rolled his eyes and looked back toward the river and for a moment neither of them spoke.
The water moved lazily below them. Somewhere in the distance, a ferry horn echoed across the harbor. It was strange.
Metropolis seemed good for Jason. Dick hated that thought. Because it was true.
The city lacked Gotham's constant tension. There was sunlight here. Open spaces. People who weren't looking over their shoulders every five seconds.
Most importantly, there was distance. Distance from all of them.
Finally, Dick stepped beside him. "You look good."
Jason snorted and gave him a dead stare, "That's your opening line?"
"It wasn't an opening line."
"Sure."
"I'm serious."
Jason shrugged. The gesture was dismissive, but Dick noticed something else. Jason wasn't immediately trying to leave.
That was something. Not much. But something.
Dick leaned against the railing. For a while they simply stood there. It reminded him, strangely enough, of years ago. Back when conversations with Jason hadn't required navigating a minefield.
Back when things had been easier.
Or at least simpler.
Eventually Jason broke the silence. "So how long did Batman know?"
Straight to the point. Dick sighed. "A few days."
Jason nodded. No surprise.
"And he sent you."
Dick hesitated. The hesitation answered the question, which made Jason laugh bitterly.
"I knew it."
"He didn't send me."
Jason turned to look at him.
The expression on his face made it clear how little he believed that. Jason raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't wake up this morning and decide to take a spontaneous trip to Metropolis."
Dick couldn't even argue.
Jason looked back toward the river. "I should've known."
There was something in his voice that made Dick frown.
Not anger.
Disappointment.
As though this had confirmed something Jason already believed.
"Known what?"
"That it wouldn't stay quiet forever."
Dick studied him. "You really thought nobody was going to look for you?"
Jason laughed again. This time there was genuine amusement in it.
"No." He shook his head. "I figured Batman would eventually find me."
A pause.
"I just thought I'd get more than a year. But I guess Talia could only keep me hidden for so long before he and Oracle found me."
The comment lingered between them.
Dick wasn't sure what to do with it. Of course Talia was involved with keeping his brother away. That made his resentment for her increase.
"You make it sound like being found is a bad thing."
Jason simply looked at him. Then Jason asked quietly, "Do you really not understand why it might be?"
Dick looked away. The answer was more complicated than he wanted to admit.
"People were worried."
Jason's expression immediately cooled.
There it was.
The familiar wall.
The one that appeared whenever Gotham entered the conversation.
"Dick."
His voice was calm. Almost too calm.
"Let's not do that."
"Do what?"
"The guilt trip."
"It's not a guilt trip."
"It absolutely is." Jason crossed his arms and then mimics Dick with a mocking smile, "'Everyone misses you, everyone's worried.'" He says the next words with a special dose of bitterness"'Come home." Dick swallows dryly and doesn't know what to say to that.
"I know how this conversation goes. Aren't you sick of having to be the messenger for his failings"
Dick felt frustration stirring.
"Maybe I'm doing this because people actually care about you. Because I care."
Jason laughed. The sound wasn't pleasant. "What exactly are we calling care these days?"
Dick's jaw tightened. "When will you stop acting like nobody ever gave a damn about you." The words came out harsher than intended.
Immediately, Jason's expression changed. Not anger. Something colder. Something more dangerous. For a moment neither spoke.
Then Jason nodded slowly.
"I was wondering how long it'd take." Dick felt a knot form in his stomach.
"What?"
"You always do this."
Jason looked away.
"Every conversation you always act like I'm being unreasonable. Dick, if I disagree with you, suddenly I'm having a tantrum and just need a bit of brotherly attention then things will go back to what you think is normal. If I'm angry, I'm irrational. If I leave, I'm running away. It was the same when I was Robin, when I was Red Hood, and now you're trying to pull the same shit."
His gaze returned to Dick.
"If I don't want to come back, clearly I just don't understand how much everyone loves me. I'm sick of it, sick of always having to let go of this feeling of being hurt so that I can make your make-believe family feel better with the ghost of the second Robin nearby."
"Damn it, Jason-"
"No." For the first time Jason raised his voice, his face turning red.
"You don't get to show up here after a year and tell me what my life means."
The river suddenly felt very quiet. Dick stared at him.
Jason took a breath and looked away again. When he spoke next, his voice was lower. More controlled.
"I built something here." The words carried weight. More than Dick had realized.
"I have friends, I have professors who know me. I have neighbors."
A faint smile appeared.
"I have people that I have dinner with frequently, where they actually treat me like a person and not some ticking bomb."
Dick remained silent.
Jason continued. "For the first time in my life, people see me as just... me."
The smile vanished. "And that's worth a lot more than you think."
Dick looked down at the water. Because he understood that. More than Jason probably realized. Dick Grayson had spent years fighting to become something separate from Robin. Separate from Gotham. Separate from Batman.
The difference was that Dick had never needed to leave everyone behind to do it. Jason had.
Eventually Dick spoke. "We're still family." The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.
Jason's expression didn't change. Which was somehow worse. For several seconds he simply stared at Dick.
Then he laughed. Just a quiet, disbelieving laugh.
"Family."
Dick felt his stomach sink.
Jason shook his head as if in sympathy, "Dick."
There was no anger in his voice anymore, just exhaustion. "You and I were never really brothers."
The statement hit harder than Dick expected, he felt like crying, "Jason-"
"No." Jason rubbed a hand across his face. "You were Bruce's son. The first Robin... and you belonged there."
Jason gestured vaguely. "The Manor, the Cave, the family." A bitter smile crossed his face.
"I was the kid everyone kept hoping would turn into you."
Dick flinched and Jason noticed.
The smile disappeared. "Tell me honestly." His voice was quiet now.
"You claiming me as your younger brother, was it genuine or out of your own guilt? Because I died and you never did anything to make me feel like family when I was alive."
Dick didn't answer.
Jason laughed softly. "Yeah. I thought so..." The silence that followed felt heavy.
Eventually he found his voice. "You really believe we were never brothers?"
Jason looked out across the river. For a long time. When he finally answered, there was something unexpectedly sad in his expression.
"I think we wanted to be."
The answer caught Dick off guard but Jason continued.
"But wanting something doesn't make it true."
For the first time since arriving in Metropolis, Dick realized this wasn't just resentment talking.
Jason genuinely believed it.
He genuinely believed he'd never belonged.
And standing there beside the river, watching the city move around them, Dick found himself wondering how many years it had taken for Jason to reach that conclusion.
And what exactly had happened that finally convinced him to leave.
The conversation should have ended there. Dick certainly felt like it should have.
The air between them had grown heavy, weighed down by too many old wounds and too many things left unsaid. For a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply stood there overlooking the river, the water moving steadily beneath them while the city carried on around them.
Dick found himself staring at Jason, at how different he looked.
Not physically.
Jason was still Jason.
But there was a steadiness to him now. A certainty. It reminded Dick of something Bruce had once told him.
The most dangerous people aren't the angry ones. They're the ones who have already made their decision.
Jason looked like a man who had made his decision.
And Dick hated it.
Because it felt like watching a door slowly close.
"You know," Dick said carefully, "you keep talking like we're strangers." Jason sighed.
"Dick-"
"No, seriously." Dick pushed off the railing, desperate now.
"I get that you're angry." And he does, honestly now.
Jason immediately looked annoyed. Dick continues.
"I'm not saying you're wrong."
"Could've fooled me."
"I'm saying we're still connected whether you like it or not."
Jason's jaw tightened. Dick pressed on.
"We grew up together."
"No, we didn't."
"We fought together."
"We worked together."
"We-"
"We survived the same people."
The interruption was sharp enough to stop Dick cold.
Jason looked away. "You know what the problem is?" he asked.
Dick frowned. "What?"
"You keep talking about what you wanted us to be." The words came slowly now. As though Jason had thought about them a thousand times before.
"You keep talking about family." His eyes drifted toward the river. "But none of you ever stop to ask whether I saw it that way."
Dick stared, heartbroken. This was going all wrong, things weren't supposed to end up this way, "What is that supposed to mean?"
Jason looked at him. And something behind his eyes finally cracked. Enough for the anger underneath to show.
"Dick, before I died, there were exactly two people in Gotham I considered family." Dick felt his stomach drop.
Jason didn't stop.
"Alfred."
A pause.
"Bruce."
Not Batman. Not the old bitterness.
Just Bruce.
For a brief second, Dick could hear how much that had once meant to him. Then it vanished.
"You weren't on that list."
The words landed hard.
Dick flinched.
Jason noticed. But for once, he didn't seem interested in softening the blow.
"You want honesty?" His voice was rising now. "I respected you. I admired you." He smiled sadly, "Sometimes I envied you."
Dick was choking with regret.
"Hell, sometimes I hated you." Jason said with his eyes staring off to who knows where.
Dick remained silent.
"But family?" Jason shook his head. Jason looked away before continuing.
"When I was Robin, I spent years trying to fit into something that wasn't built for me." His voice had grown quieter again.
"Everybody wanted another Dick Grayson."
Dick froze. Jason continued.
"I wasn't him." A pause.
"I was never going to be him." Another pause.
"And nobody knew what to do with that."
Dick found himself struggling to answer once again. Because there was enough truth there to make him uncomfortable.
Jason noticed.
Of course he did.
"Look at you."
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"You can't even deny it." Now he stayed silent.
Jason stepped away from the railing. His hands clenched briefly at his sides.
"I gave everything I had to Gotham." The words came faster now. More emotional.
"And then I died. When I came back, I thought I could force things to matter again."
His eyes drifted toward the skyline.
"I thought if I fought hard enough, if I screamed loud enough." He grit his teeth through the pain, "If I made myself impossible to ignore..."
"It didn't change anything."
Dick stared at him.
Because for a moment Jason looked exhausted.
"I spent years as Red Hood and I was miserable." The admission surprised even Dick. Jason looked away.
"I was angry all the time and convinced myself it was purpose." His expression hardened.
"It wasn't."
Jason took a slow breath and then met Dick's, "I am never going back to that." The words were simple.
Absolute.
"I am never letting Gotham turn me into that person again."
Dick saw it then. The thing Bruce hadn't understood. The thing nobody had understood. Jason wasn't running. He wasn't hiding. He wasn't punishing them. From his perspective, he'd escaped.
And Gotham wasn't home. Gotham was the place he'd barely survived.
Jason looked away again.
His voice softer now. "You keep asking me to come back but none of you ever stop to ask what you're asking me to come back to."
Dick had no answer.
Because standing there beside the river, hearing the conviction in Jason's voice, he realized that every argument he'd prepared had been built on the assumption that Jason wanted to return.
That somewhere underneath the anger, there was still a part of him waiting for an excuse.
Instead, Dick was looking at someone who had already made peace with leaving.
Someone who had finally found a version of himself that didn't revolve around Batman, Gotham, or being Red Hood.
And the most painful part was that Jason looked happier for it.
Enough that Dick suddenly understood why Bruce had been afraid to come himself, because if Bruce had heard this-
If Bruce had seen the certainty in Jason's eye he might have been forced to confront a possibility neither of them wanted to face.
That Jason Todd's best chance at happiness might be a life that had no place for Gotham in it at all.
Dick was beginning to realize that he had badly underestimated just how deep this went. When Bruce had asked him to come to Metropolis, he'd expected anger.
Expected resentment.
Expected Jason to tell him to get lost.
What he hadn't expected was this. The sheer exhaustion in Jason's voice whenever Gotham came up. The way his entire posture changed whenever Batman was mentioned. The way every attempt to repair the conversation seemed to make things worse.
The two of them stood near the river, the city stretching out behind them.
Jason had turned away again, staring out across the water.
Dick was trying to find the right words.
Trying to find something.
Because surely there had to be something left worth salvaging.
"Jay," he said more quietly this time, "I'm not trying to drag you back to Gotham kicking and screaming."
Jason let out a humorless laugh.
"Could've fooled me."
"Damn it." Dick ran a hand through his hair.
"I'm trying to understand."
"No, you're not."
Jason finally looked at him. There was genuine frustration there now.
"You're trying to fix it. You keep standing there acting like this is some misunderstanding that can be cleared up if everybody talks about their feelings."
His voice hardened.
"It's not."
Dick felt himself getting frustrated too. "Then help me understand what it is."
Jason laughed again. "You really don't get it."
"No, I don't."
The admission came faster than Dick expected. "I don't."
Jason blinked.
Dick stepped forward slightly.
"Because I don't understand how you can spend years fighting for something and then decide none of it mattered."
Immediately Jason's expression darkened. "I never said it didn't matter."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying it wasn't enough."
The words escaped before Jason could stop them.
Silence followed and Jason looked away.
Dick felt something twist in his chest and for a moment neither of them spoke.
Then-
"Wow."
Both men turned.
Clark was walking toward them with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
His expression was calm.
Too calm.
The expression of someone who had spotted a situation from a mile away and already knew he wasn't going to like it.
Jason immediately looked relieved.
Not dramatically.
Not obviously.
Just enough that Dick noticed.
And once he noticed it, he couldn't stop noticing it.
The tension in Jason's shoulders eased. His jaw unclenched. The guarded look he'd been wearing for the last hour softened slightly.
It was subtle.
But it was there.
Clark seemed to notice too. His gaze flicked between them.
"How's it going?"
Neither answered.
Clark sighed.
"That well, huh?"
Jason snorted.
Dick almost smiled. Almost.
Clark came to a stop beside Jason. Not between them. Beside him.
The distinction wasn't lost on Dick.
Neither was the fact that Jason didn't seem bothered by the proximity. That was unusual. Jason generally disliked people invading his space.
Yet here he barely reacted.
Clark glanced at his watch. "Actually, that's convenient."
Jason frowned. "What is?"
"We need to leave like pronto."
Jason looked confused. "Why?"
Clark stared at him. Then slowly said, "Because Lois made lasagna."
Jason blinked.
"Oh."
Another pause.
"Oh." This time louder.
Clark nodded.
"Yes."
Jason looked genuinely horrified. "What time is it?"
Clark checked again. "Later than you think."
Jason swore under his breath. Dick stared.
Because for the first time since arriving in Metropolis, Jason looked less like an angry former vigilante and more like a university student who had completely forgotten about dinner plans.
Clark looked amused. "Lois specifically told me to remind you."
"Oh that's bad."
"Very."
Jason immediately grabbed his phone.
"How bad?"
"'If he's late again, tell him I'm revoking his dessert privileges' bad."
Jason groaned.
Clark's smile widened.
And Dick found himself staring. Not at the conversation. At Jason.
At the ease of it. The familiarity.
Because Jason wasn't forcing this. He wasn't pretending. He was comfortable.
Dick wasn't sure he'd seen that version of Jason in years. Maybe ever.
Jason shoved his phone back into his pocket. "I hate all of you."
"You absolutely do not."
"I specifically hate Lois."
Clark nodded. "I'll let her know."
Dick watched the exchange. Then looked at Clark. Then back at Jason. The realization left an unpleasant feeling in his stomach.
Bruce had been right about one thing. Clark and Jason were close. Closer than Bruce realized.
Jason caught Dick looking. Immediately the tension returned. Not entirely. But enough.
His expression closed off again. "What?"
Dick hesitated.
Then asked the question anyway. "You have dinner with them regularly?"
Jason looked confused. "Yeah."
"As in..." Dick glanced at Clark. "As in this isn't a one-time thing."
Jason's confusion only deepened. "No?"
Clark finally seemed to understand where this was going.
"Oh." Dick looked between them.
Jason folded his arms. "What's the problem?"
Dick wasn't entirely sure. That was the frustrating part. There wasn't a problem. Not really. It was just... unexpected.
Because he'd spent the last hour talking to a Jason who seemed ready to slam every door Gotham offered.
Yet here was proof that he hadn't isolated himself. He hadn't withdrawn from everyone.
He'd simply chosen different people. Different connections. Different places to belong.
Clark seemed to read the thought on his face. His expression softened slightly.
"Jason's been coming over for almost a year."
Dick looked at him like a kicked puppy, "A year?"
Jason groaned, "Clark."
"What?"
"Stop making it sound weird."
"It isn't weird."
"It absolutely sounds weird."
Clark laughed.
And to Dick's surprise, Jason laughed too. Just briefly. But it was enough.
The sound hit harder than Dick expected. Because Jason hadn't laughed like that since he was Robin.
The realization stung.
"Look," Clark said, glancing toward the city, "we really do need to go."
Jason nodded immediately. A little too quickly. Dick noticed that as well.
An exit.
Jason wanted an exit.
Clark was giving him one. The thought left a bitter taste in Dick's mouth.
Whatever progress Dick had hoped to make today had probably ended half an hour ago. Jason picked up his backpack.
For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Dick looked at him.
"Would you at least think about what I said?"
Jason was quiet.
Then he shook his head.
Not angrily.
Not dismissively.
Just honestly.
"No."
The answer hurt more because of how sincere it sounded. Jason adjusted the strap on his shoulder.
Dick opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
Jason gave him one last look and then turned away.
Clark lingered a moment longer. His gaze met Dick's and gave him a small smile. "See you around Dick, don't worry, he's in safe hands."
0o0o0
Dick remained by the river long after they were gone.
The city lights reflected off the water as evening settled over Metropolis. Around him, people continued their lives without noticing the conversation that had just taken place.
He barely saw any of it.
His mind kept replaying the last hour. Not just the argument. What lingered was everything that came after.
The ease between Clark and Jason.
The casual way they'd talked about dinner.
The way Jason had immediately relaxed when Clark arrived.
The laugh. God, the laugh.
Dick couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten that version of Jason. If he ever had. And that realization brought an ugly feeling with it.
Jealousy.
Dick hated it the moment he recognized it. It felt selfish. Childish.
But it was there.
Because while the rest of them had spent years fighting with Jason, arguing with him, trying to fix him, Clark had somehow become someone Jason actually wanted to spend time with.
Someone he trusted.
Someone he chose.
The worst part was that Dick couldn't even blame him. Clark is the type to listen. Clark didn't push. Clark also probably didn't look at Jason and immediately see a problem that needed solving.
Dick stared out across the river. The jealousy faded quickly.
The guilt remained.
Because Jason had been right about one thing.
Dick had walked into Metropolis expecting to repair something. Expecting to say the right thing and somehow convince Jason to come home. He'd never stopped to consider whether home was something Jason wanted anymore.
Or whether Gotham had ever really felt like home in the first place.
The thought sat heavily in his chest.
For years, Dick had assumed Jason knew he belonged. That no matter how much they fought, Jason understood he was family.
Now he wasn't so sure.
And standing alone beside the river, watching the last traces of sunlight disappear beyond the skyline, Dick found himself wondering whether that was Jason's failure.
Or theirs.
For the first time since arriving in Metropolis, he wasn't thinking about how to bring Jason back.
He was thinking about how they had lost him.
0o0o0
By the time Clark and Jason arrived at the Kent apartment, the smell of food had already reached the hallway.
Jason stopped outside the door.
"How much trouble am I in?"
Clark unlocked it.
"On a scale of one to ten?"
"Yeah."
"Eight."
Jason groaned.
The door opened.
Immediately Lois looked up from the dining table, "There he is."
Jason raised both hands. "In my defense-"
"You forgot."
"I forgot."
"You forgot again."
Jason pointed at her. "Okay, see, saying it twice feels excessive."
Lois wasn't even trying to hide her smile anymore. "You were supposed to be here forty minutes ago."
"I know."
"I made enough food to feed a small army."
"I know."
"Your texts are terrible."
Jason sighed. "I know."
Lois nodded. "Good." The interrogation apparently complete, she returned to setting plates on the table.
Jason looked at Clark. "That went better than expected."
Clark looked surpised too, and then pouts, "I guess your the favourite if she's letting you off that easy, never happened with me."
From the living room, Connor's voice immediately cut in.
"Sup angrybird, you're late." Connor has nicknamed him angrybird due to his thick eyebrows.
Jason pointed toward him, ""Don't start." Connor appeared around the corner with a grin.
"Or what?"
Jason narrowed his eyes. "Remember that time I helped you study for your economics exam?"
Connor's confidence vanished.
"You wouldn't."
"I absolutely would."
"That's blackmail."
"That's consequences."
Clark watched the exchange and couldn't help smiling.
A year ago, Jason barely tolerated people and just a few months back Connor was arguing about him staying in Metropolis.
Now Jason was threatening Connor with academic sabotage.
Progress came in many forms.
Jon appeared next immediately spotting Jason. "You're late." He pouts.
"Oh good." Jason dropped his backpack near the door. "Everybody gets a turn."
The apartment felt different when Jason was there. Clark had noticed it months ago.
The energy changed. Jason brought a certain sharpness to conversations.
A dry humor. A willingness to challenge absolutely anything anyone said, sometimes just because he was bored.
The strange part was how naturally he'd settled into their lives. Nobody had planned it.
It simply happened.
One coffee turned into another. Then dinners. Then movie nights. Then random visits.
At some point Jason had stopped being a guest and started becoming part of the routine. Clark couldn't imagine their lives without him in it.
The realization still surprised Clark sometimes.
They gathered around the table. Lois immediately pointed toward an empty chair.
"Sit." Jason obeyed instantly.
Connor snorted.
"Look at that."
"What?"
"You listen to her."
Jason looked offended.
"I listen to everyone." The entire table stared.
Jason sighed.
"Fine." He pointed at Lois. "I listen to her."
"Smart man," Lois said.
Jason nodded solemnly. "Fear is a powerful motivator."
Lois threw a napkin at him. Jon nearly choked laughing.
Clark settled into his chair and found himself simply watching. Not participating.
Watching.
The conversation moved effortlessly between topics. Lois talked about an article she was working on and Jason immediately began poking holes in her argument. Not because he disagreed but because he enjoyed debating.
Lois clearly enjoyed it too.
The two of them had somehow developed a relationship that alternated between mutual respect and verbal warfare.
Tonight was no exception.
"You can't seriously think that's enough evidence."
Lois raised an eyebrow. "Are you questioning my reporting?"
"I'm questioning your confidence."
Connor winced. "Oh, he's dead."
Lois smiled. The dangerous kind. Clark recognized it immediately.
Jason apparently did too because he immediately sat back.
"You know what?" He raised both hands. "I've reconsidered."
"That's what I thought."
The table dissolved into laughter. Jason rolled his eyes. Yet he was smiling.
Clark noticed that too. Not the smile Jason used around strangers. Not the sarcastic one. The real one.
Small.
Relaxed.
Unforced.
The kind that had become increasingly common over the last year. It wasn't just the laughter, it was everything else.
The small things. The things Jason probably didn't even realize he was doing.
The way he reached into the center of the table to refill Jon's drink while continuing a conversation.
The way he automatically grabbed extra napkins when Lois stood up.
The way he listened when Connor talked, even while pretending not to.
There was comfort there.
Familiarity.
A sense of belonging and entirely at home.
The sight brought an unexpected ache to Clark's chest.
Because after everything Jason had been through, after all the anger and loss and grief that had defined so much of his life, there was something deeply satisfying about seeing him here.
Not fighting.
Not surviving.
Just living.
And for all the complications that created with Gotham, Bruce, and the rest of the Bat-family, Clark found he couldn't bring himself to regret a single moment of it.