an olive branch [babs]

Participants: Jason Todd & Barbara Gordon
Open/Closed: Closed
Location(s): Gotham City Public Library
Time of Day: Later afternoon
Weather: Cloudy
Summary: Jason gets an anonymous message.

Typically, when Jason received a message on his ridiculously encrypted phone, it was from either Talia or his teammates, the only people in the world he’d given access to the messaging system. So, naturally, as soon as the ping from his phone was heard, he dropped the sandwich he’d been looking forward to all afternoon—stuffed with turkey and a nauseating amount of mayonnaise and mustard—and turned his attention to the device.

He was met with a message that was decidedly not from one of the three people it should’ve been. It was from “Anonymous” and contained nothing but coordinates and a time. His eyes narrowed and his mind raced. There weren’t many people he could think of that could hack this encryption—it was set up by Talia al Ghul after all. He could think of two: one that maybe could, and one that could but, last he’d heard, was “dead.” It was something he’d been suspicious of since he heard it, but hadn’t actually managed to scrounge up evidence to the contrary yet.

His fingers flexed as he stared at the screen, conflicted. The smart thing to do would be to assume it’s a trap. He should not go or go but only to stake it out from a distance. It didn’t matter that it might be from her. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t actually spoken to her once since he’d come back. Didn’t matter that sometimes it kept him up at night, wondering what she thought of him. Didn’t matter that sometimes he clung to it like a lifeline, the hope that maybe, just maybe she was the only one that just might understand.

It didn’t matter, but he looked up the coordinates on his phone, and suddenly it kinda did.

That was how he ended up here, sitting at a table in the Gotham Public Library in scuffed up jeans, a leather jacket, and ACDC T-shirt. His leg bounced; the nagging silence only broken by the occasional cough from some guy huddled in the far corner with a pile of tissues next to him. Jason hadn’t actually stepped foot here since his return from the grave. It used to be a place he frequented and often took solace in, before Bruce. He used to stuff himself into a corner where it was warm and secluded and read whatever book he’d picked out, trying to cram as much in as he could in case it got checked out before he could come back. Now, everything seemed smaller and, while it wasn’t cold, the ghost of his memories gave the place a certain chill.

Jason Todd was on her mind more than anyone would ever know. Had been since he'd... returned from the grave. Barbara had to shake her sense of realism mentally everything that particular thought ricochetted through her head. Even in the world she lived in, with the people she'd worked with and the things she'd seen, the fact that death wasn't always permanent always jarred her. Babs had kept as much of an eye on Jason as she could - ordinarily for others, but always a kernel of that surveillance, secretly, for herself.

She watched the events of his second life unfold after the fact; cataloging his escapades and episodes of mental instability in a dossier like she kept on so many others. And, while Barbara could create a very firm and believable smokescreen that Jason Todd was one of many that Oracle stayed appraised of... Well, she couldn't completely fool herself. Because beneath that veneer of pragmatism and logic that wasn't exactly untrue, Barbara's heart broke daily for Jason.

He had needed, she felt, from the start, let alone after his resurrection, help. Help only a family could give. His family. Barbara couldn't imagine going through what she had with the Joker and it ending in the same way as it had for Jason. Who she would've been on the other side; what the Lazarus Pit would've remade her as. Compassion and a hope had stayed Oracle's hand when it came to the Red Hood since his return. But amidst all of the revelations and steps toward betterment that Babs had been taking lately came an epiphany.

Maybe she'd been waiting for others to help Jason, thinking she wasn't able to, or wasn't fit to, when that was the furthest from the case? Had Babs's patience been sloth? She was waiting for Jason to push through his twisted psyche organically on his own before meddling, or involving herself. Would that meddling have expedited the process? Or, contrarily, pushed him further away? Barbara would add it to the long list of things that kept her up at night.

Absence or no, news had sifted to Oracle - believed dead by all but the core of the Bat-family - that spoke of the Red Hood... Well... Being something of a hero. Sort of. And any self-imposed argument or strand of logic that Barbara had used until then fell away. Guilt at not having done anything before then bundled together with this clear, perceived step toward progress in Jason and... Here she was.

Jason was wicked smart - anyone who'd ever been a member of the Bats were. Babs knew that when he got her message, there would be perilously few capable of sending it to him in the first place. Oracle was keen to see if he'd answer the summons. Some internal part of her knew that it was a gamble, and that his response to it would be immensely definitive. Barbara was using this as a test, not only for herself, but for Jason. To see if he was ready for what she hoped.

And he came. Looking disgruntled and mildly hostile. Reminding Babs of the Robin he'd once been and striking her in the heart in a way she hadn't anticipated. But she waited. Waited until he sat down at the table, looking around warily. Rolling into view, Barbara stopped, hands resting on her wheels, and surveyed the vigilante piercingly over the rims of her square spectacles. "Hello, Jason. I'm glad you came."

Jason Todd

He remembered the last time he saw Barbara Gordon. She’d still been recovering from being shot and having her life being turned completely upside down. He hadn’t visited for long—he’d really wanted to punch something, but he knew Bruce was becoming more and more wary of Jason’s anger. He’d taken comfort, though, in that she still hadn’t lost that determined glint in her eyes.

Looking at her now, she still had it.

He had the brief urge to flee. She was probably one of the only people out their now who’s freshest memory of him was from… before. A part of him didn’t want to tarnish that. There was another part of him, growing stronger and stronger lately, that wanted to rip the memory of that poor kid away from her—from all of them—so they could see him.

He forced his body to remain casual, to not become defensive like it automatically did now when coming face to face with, well, anyone. Particularly someone from his past.

She spoke and he wanted to tell her it was good to see her. But he didn’t know if it was yet. “You put so much effort into the invite, how could I say no?” He glanced around, subtly eyeing the shadows in the library, because he wouldn’t put an ambush past any of them. Not even Barbara. He hadn’t known her in years. He knew better than to let himself fall into a false sense of security. “So does the intervention start now or do we chit chat a bit more? Dr. Phil showing up to this shindig or no?”

The tension in the air between them was a unique, complicated, paradoxical thing. There were such original and unenviable histories, events and memories lingering there that even Barbara, who prided herself on many things, one of them being knowing her own mind, was left a little breathless. Jason countered her introduction by flinging a dart of dry sarcasm her way. She looked mildly unimpressed, but only settled in opposite him at the table, applying her brakes.

"Pretty easily, actually. A lot easier than showing up," she said, even more dry. Jason was disguising it well, but the flit of his gaze, almost imperceptible, to the corners of the room - to every shadowed nook and cranny - gave away his true opinion. He was trying not to feel like a cornered animal, and Babs resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They didn't have much of a relationship - if any - to stand on. She couldn't blame his paranoia - most of it he'd earned by his own erratic behavior and twisted agenda since his... return.

"Cut the teenaged angst angle," Oracle said. "It's much less cute now that you're a grown man." And, somehow, Barbara's reproach wasn't said with a sting or any particular severity. The tone of a... well... something of an older sister lightly reprimanding their wily younger brother was a bit easier to reach than Babs expected. "I am glad you came. And it's just us. Hopefully, you can trust that my word is still good."

Despite his track record as the Red Hood, Oracle hadn't brought any form of weaponry. Not even escrima sticks that were normally tucked up her sleeves while out and about. There were no backup plans or contingencies if Jason became violent. Because Babs was just that certain he wouldn't. Sure, he could flip a table or chair, storm off in anger. But Barbara would - and had, in a way - stake her life that Jason wouldn't hurt her. And she prayed he felt the same in reverse. Even if he needed to fight through all his normal instincts to get to that conclusion.

Jason Todd

He grimaced at her reprimand. He wanted to snap back, make some remark about how he spent a good chunk of his teenage years a practical zombie. None of them knew that, of course. He was pretty sure they all assumed his resurrection was all the Lazarus Pit’s doing. He didn’t care, not really. It didn’t matter that he’d wandered the streets of Gotham for months and not once had the man who patrolled the streets every damn night noticed him. Nope. Didn’t matter one bit.

He held the remark in, though, because while Barbara’s words were sharp, there was a distinct lack of edge to her tone that surprised him. It was hard to find people lately whose tone didn’t harden, take on more severity, when speaking to him. He knew he’d earned it some ways, and that he didn’t evoke much sympathy when he came at others with a cocky attitude and biting words of his own. He’d spent so long in defense mode, he never quite knew how to let his guard down.

It was something he was working on a lot lately, as evidenced by the new relationships in his life. So, despite a decent portion of himself telling him that it was not worth the risk, he allowed himself to relax at Barbara’s words—not fully, just enough for a slight droop in his shoulders and for his gaze to stop straying to the shadows.

He sighed, shifted in his seat. “I’ll bite.” He tilted his head, raised a curious eyebrow. “What do you want, Babs?” His tone was guarded, but admittedly curious. He couldn’t honestly fathom why she would want to meet with him if this wasn’t some big intervention. Did she want intel? He couldn’t think of anything he knew that she couldn’t easily get her hands on.

She watched thoughts, emotions, memories, impulses, flicker and fizz like sparklers in his blue eyes. All much harder to pick out than Barbara expected. She was used to reading the inscrutable, glowering masks of Bats, and that Jason could hide all but the slightest ghost of vague, possible thoughts was impressive in itself.

What Barbara noticed, with unspoken relief, was that he didn't close up further. Didn't get more defensive. Didn't move to leave or give some outlet to anger or frustration. In fact, he shifted in his seat and let his shoulders droop a quarter inch. Both signs that he knew Babs would catch and translate as compliance - for now.

"I'll bite. What do you want, Babs?"

Barbara laced her fingers together and rested them on the table in front of her. He was cutting directly to the heart of the matter, and she planned on showing him the same courtesy. "A relationship, Jason. Professional, at least. I think establishing an actual channel of communication between the two of us could do a lot of good on both sides."

Oracle thought about pointing out she'd been watching him lately - but that was obvious. She was watching everyone. That was her thing. Or else highlighting that, while Babs didn't necessarily approve of all of Jason's methods, that didn't mean they couldn't work together, even occasionally. Oracle had dispatched less virtuous agents before. All of these things and more Barbara could have detailed, but Jason was more clever than hardly anyone gave him credit for. She knew they'd spiral through his brain like quicksilver.

Jason Todd

He cocked his head to the side somewhat, eyeing her as he pondered her statement. The silence stretched, broken only by the occasional cough from Tissue Guy. He would be stupid if he thought Babs had never been watching him, keeping track of him. How much she knew, he couldn’t be completely sure about. He could be completely covert, a ghost, when he wanted to. He also knew, however, not to underestimate Barbara Gordon. It was one of those Robin lessons that had managed to stick.

“I heard you were out of the business.” His tone gave away how convincing he’d found that rumor. No, he would not admit to hearing the news of Oracle’s death and that brief, brief moment of doubt before he sent out a few feelers and confirmed that Barbara Gordon was perfectly alive. That would ruin surely ruin his reputation of uncaring asshole.

He knew that wasn’t an answer either, but the statement was merely a stalling while he worked through his thoughts. It would be helpful, he knew, to have Oracle on his side. He’d been going to Talia for information and assistance less and less lately—an issue he didn’t feel like tackling at the moment. Going to someone who worked so closely with Bruce and the others, however, made him squirm. It made him, briefly, think back to that cold cell at Arkham and laughter echoing down the hall.

His gaze strayed to the table, absently eyeing the initials some lovestruck teenagers had carved in probably years ago. “And what do the others think of you welcoming the infamous Red Hood into your fold?” He eyes returned to her then, wanting to watch her face as she answered. He doubted she would lie, but he’d thought that about several people before with poor results, so he wanted to be ready to catch a tell should she present one.