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Jason would never tire of the Gotham skyline.
The beauty of it was ingrained into the backs of Jason’s eyelids. Even after being gone so long, it still played on the back of them when he fell asleep at dawn. The tilts of those buildings and the lights in the sky were a lullaby that Jason could never forget. Protecting this city had become Jason’s goal, even before he had decided toward different methods.
Jason scrutinized the skyline as he adjusted his arm around his gargoyle friend. He breathed a large sigh out of his mouth. He was still getting used to the changes that had happened when he was dead.
There wasn’t much. Drastic skyline changes didn’t happen in only a few years. But there were new billboards, and some of the lights reaching out into the sky were a different color. Realistically, the city was almost the exact same as when he left it. Of course it had. Why else would Jason feel so out of place if he was the only thing that was different?
Citys didn’t change quickly. The same couldn’t be said for Jason.
Jason swung his feet against the cold concrete of the building he was sitting on. He couldn’t regret the childish movement, not here. He sat somewhere like this years ago, before his life had ended.
He found his gaze drifting from the expanse of buildings toward a particular one a few blocks away. His memories superimposed the shadowy figure of someone he thought of as a big brother, once. A jolt rushed through his body as Jason realized exactly where he decided to perch that night.
This wasn’t just a similar rooftop to the one he had sat on before. This was the same one. He looked to the side at the gargoyle he was sitting next to, tilting his head and scrutinizing the carving.
The slightly askew horns. The two sets of fangs that reached out of the creature’s mouth, one short and one long. The folded ears that ended in fluff instead of the usual point. The long, curling tail ending in a forked tip that rested on top of its big-clawed paws.
Jason had cried here, dressed in the Robin uniform with no intention of patrolling, before he went out to avenge Barbara. Not only that, but this used to be his favorite spot in Gotham: his favorite gargoyle. How Jason hadn’t realized that before, he didn’t know. Now he couldn’t breathe.
He clenched his fist as he forced his vision to focus back on the present. Jason unwrapped his arm from the gargoyle’s neck to place it on his side. Before he could tear his treacherous eyes away from that rooftop, they focused in on a figure standing at the very back of it.
It was muscle memory that made Jason’s lips form into that trained, fought for position. The ‘look here’ whistle left him before he could stop it. Maybe he wouldn’t have done it if he were sitting somewhere else. Maybe he would have been able to stop himself if he wasn’t thinking of the moment directly before his confrontation with the Joker.
Still, Jason had whistled out to the figure. He knew who it was, but he was absolutely reluctant to think it.
Instead, he thought more about the whistle that he just let out. Jason was surprised on how well it had carried through his mask. He was less surprised on how he knew so well how to do it. The whistle had been ingrained in him more than anything that the Bats had taught him. Hell, he used it with Black Mask just the other night.
Jason would have thought that it would muffle the sound. Still, Jason’s whistle flew straight through the night.
‘Status’ responded toward him with Nightwing’s characteristic flair. Jason sighed heavily, clenching his fists tighter against his thighs. He beat back the urge to whistle back the ‘all clear’ that Nightwing’s question asked for. They had this interaction on these rooftops before. They didn’t need to have it again, especially not now. An emotion Jason couldn’t quite name bubbled up harshly in his chest. Nightwing whistled the sound again, this time louder and more forcefully.
Jason sighed. He would have thought putting a sword in the guy’s gut the other night would have discouraged him of this behavior. Hadn’t he shown Dick that Jason was beyond redemption?
Then again, the last time that the two of them were on these rooftops, Jason had hurt him too. Dick had still sought Jason out then. then, it had only been a punch. A sword injury was so much worse.
Still, just as he was did then, Nightwing was checking in on Jason without moving closer. Jason had no idea how the man knew that Jason would be here if even Jason hadn’t known. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he watched the stationary figure on that rooftop.
Jason had hurt him. Hurt him irrevocably by not only the sword, but also his actions. Dick was most likely heart broken to find what his little brother had become. He had always been telling Jason tips on how to curb his anger—how to keep control instead of letting it out loose like a canon.
‘Look, all clear.’ Jason finally responded before he thought better of it. He turned his gaze back toward the skyline, unable to keep looking at Nightwing. He didn’t want to try to extrapolate what the guy was thinking from his distant body language.
‘Heard.’ Nightwing responded. That was usually the end of the whistling volley, as they would either turn back toward patrol or use their comms to have a more intricate conversation. The silence that settled between the rooftops told Jason that Nightwing was thinking the same thing.
Jason stared at the skyline. It was different then how he was staring at it before. This time, he pointedly ignored both the stinging in his eyes, and the feeling of a gaze on him.
It must have been at least a half an hour later before anything else broke the stillness of the night. Jason had picked this spot for its infrequent crime rates, of course. The gargoyle that sat here had nothing to do with it.
Nightwing whistled a quick succession of ‘status’ and ‘help,’ which used that way meant more of a question than anything. Jason found his gaze drifting back toward Nightwing instead of at the sky risers in front of him.
‘Danger.’ Jason responded. He hated now natural the sound felt leaving his lips.
Nightwing didn’t respond. Jason didn’t expect them to. Whenever that was used, it wasn’t a call for a reply. It was a warning, pure and simple. Jason used it now not for a notice of a missed attack, or an announcement of a difficult fight. Nightwing knew exactly what Jason was using it for.
Dick still didn’t leave the rooftop. He stayed there until Jason got up and left. He didn’t even follow Jason.
Jason couldn’t help but feel similarly to how he did after their long-ago volley of whistles on this rooftop. Jason had pushed and pushed against Nightwing last time they saw each other. There might have been whistles that night, but they weren’t toward each other.
These whistles? They were calls and responses. Jason didn’t think he would ever get that again with what he had done. He couldn’t find it in himself to be disappointed that they happened. In fact, he couldn’t stop the hope from pushing against his rib cage.
Maybe after all of this was over, they would be okay.