Homecoming (Closed - Jason)

Participants: Dick Grayson and Jason Todd
Open/Closed: Closed
Location(s): Outside an old warehouse in the Wharfs
Time of Day: Night
Weather: Chilly thanks to the lake effect of the wharfs. 
Summary: Dick Grayson returns to Bludhaven to see for himself what Jason Todd has been up to

They say that you can never go home again. 

Dick had a complicated relationship with that expression. He spent his childhood in a circus so home was wherever the tent was set up that particular night. Then, of course, home was Wayne Manor for a while... then Titan Tower... then a loft here in the Blud. This was his first real shot at independence. Being with Bruce meant playing by his rules and, frankly, there were plenty of rules he disagreed with. Leading the Titans meant being responsible for the lives and well-being of all his friends. Any mistake he made there could lead to the death of a friend and, so, not much in the way of independence there either. Bludhaven, though? Batman was so swamped with Gotham and the Justice League to ever pay Bludhaven any mind and the criminal element relished it. This was untouched land. This was an opportunity for him to make a difference and strike out on his own all at once. 

He had made a home here, had friends here, fell in love here... a few times, and was just generally his own man in Bludhaven. There were dark days... Blockbuster... Chemo... Tarantula... way too many dark days. Still, with all that said, he was surprised that he didn't feel some overwhelming sense of happiness, sadness, or at least nostalgia. Nothing. He just felt the cold air from the open water. Jimmy, a clown from back at the circus, had a way of saying that no matter what city you go to they're all the same."Just nothing but tall buildings with s**t in between them" - he had a way with words. 

Dick dug his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. He came here tonight in civvies because the person he wanted to see had a tendency of going aggro if he even perceived a threat. It didn't help that they didn't have the best relationship with one another. Jason Todd was the brother he had but never really knew. Batman recruited Jason to replace him after he left without his knowledge. Their relationship wasn't the best at the time and that hadn't helped matters. Add in to the fact that Jason had tried to kill him a few times and you have the ingredients for an unhealthy relationship. Dick walked up to the edge of the water and looked into it. It was filthy. Bludhaven was the kind of place that always found new and exciting ways to disappoint you. Dick sighed and waited patiently.

He'd heard stories about Jason Todd operating out of Bludhaven. The stories were positive ones... albeit unorthodox. He wanted to talk to Jason himself. 

"Nice jacket, man." 

Dick shook his head. Of course. Bludhaven. 

He turned on his heels to see four men approaching him in an arch. The only direction he could go was backwards and that was right into the frozen, polluted water behind him. He was pinned. They were armed... knives... chains... nothing projectile that he could see. These guys were too poor for firearms which also meant that they probably didn't know how to fight. He could still make quick work of them without his escrima sticks or his costume... but maybe it was a way to bait Jason out. Dick smiled at them. 

"Oh? You like it? Tom Ford. Pretty pricey stuff but, hey, you only live once, right?" 

He put on his best "dumb, rich boy" face. 


==tag Jason Todd ==

He almost hadn’t gone to the wharfs. The night was dragging, each bust seeming to take forever and a frickin day. He could also feel an incoming headache crawling along his temples: the result of a lucky blow some thug had managed with a crowbar, hard enough to reverberate through Jason’s helmet.

So, yeah, he was thinking about cutting patrol short. He could grab a bite to eat on the way back, get some research done for a case his team was working on, and then even catch an extra hour or two of sleep. There wasn’t anything big going down at the wharfs that he knew about.

That was the thing about the wharfs, though. There was always something happening, with it being the easiest access point for illegal goods from overseas. So, he’d begrudgingly continued his route until he’d reached the chilled air of the wharfs.

He regretted it as soon as he laid eyes on the familiar figure of Dick f**king Grayson. His predecessor was in civvies, being backed up toward the ocean by four men brandishing various improvised weapons. Dick wore a dumber than usual look on his face and Jason honestly didn’t think the jacket was even that cool. He watched from a densely shadowed building just above the group, contemplating his next move. Maybe he should just wait and watch, see how long it take before Dick gives up whatever charade he had going on and kicked these guys’ asses?

He mostly just wanted to turn around and leave, though. He was not in the mood to deal with the original Robin. Nevermind he’d known this was coming as soon as he’d heard the other man had donned his blue stripes again. What made him admittedly curious, though, was that Dick wasn’t in costume. Jason had honestly expected the next time he’d see Dick, it would be with the other’s fist in Jason’s face. Give it time, he thought bitterly.

He sighed, because he knew that if he didn’t show now, Dick was just going to hunt him down some other way and one member of the bat brood breaking into Jason’s apartment was enough.

So, Jason dropped silently behind the thugs. As one raised his hand brandishing a chain, Jason grabbed the weapon, tugged it sharply back, causing the man to stumble backwards as his fist refused to release the chain. The man turned and Jason’s gloved knuckles were already slamming into his face. The man out a yowl and crashed to the ground, clutching his now broken and profusely bleeding nose. The other three men paused, turned to look, took a moment to process the sudden unexpected events. One cursed.

“Scram.” There was a clear threat to Jason’s tone, emphasized by the way he began wrapping his new chain around his fingers, brandishing it like one would brass knuckles. There was a moment of stillness where Jason thought he just may have to follow up on the implied threat, before the men were all scrambling away. The one Jason had punched struggled to his feet while still clutching his face, before stumbling after his pals. Jason watched them leave until they were out of sight, before casually tossing the chain aside and finally setting his gaze on Dick.

His eyes narrowed, arms crossed defensively. “What do you want?” Probably to kick Jason out of "his" city.

Just looking at Jason Todd was a mix of emotions for Dick. Every time he looked at that red helmet he saw someone who had tried to take justice into their own hands and act as an executioner. He saw a man who had tried to kill him, Tim, and even Damian more than a few times. He saw someone that was so angry and bitter at the world that he would likely never greet Dick was a smile. Yet he knew underneath the helmet was another kid like him who got thrown into a life that should never be lived. Jason had every right to be the angry, caged animal that he is. Even though Bruce had tried to save him, he had failed and no explanations would ever justify the disappointment and pain Jason had felt. Through no fault of his own, he was always going to be known as the "failed" Robin.

The problem was that Dick had faced a thousand people like Jason. Almost every inmate at Arkham was a man or woman who had faced tragedies and decided to lash out at the world around them. Sure, Jason hadn't tried to poison the Gotham City water supply but the principle was there. Nothing justifies taking a human life. That's not a decision one single person gets to make no matter how compelling their argument is. To make matters worse, Jason had actively tried to kill and maim the rest of the family. Jason Todd was a brother to him, yes, but he was also someone that Dick didn't think he could trust. He wished he could change that. 

"I like this helmet more than the other one you had for a bit. That thing made you look like a tube of lipstick." 

Dick winked at Jason and turned back towards the waters of the wharf. He made sure his hands were visible and open for Jason to see: no costume, no weapons. Despite all of their fights, arguments, and near death experiences, Dick Grayson was not in Bludhaven as an enemy. He was here to talk and, more importantly, to witness the Red Hood. Jason could have very easily killed those men before any of them could have blinked an eye. Jason was a fighter and there was no mistaking that. Instead he showed restraint in his movements like Bruce would have. Though he wouldn't have said that out loud at all. Lord knows how Jason would react to being compared favorably to Bruce. Probably close to the same way he did whenever the comparisons came up. 

"I just wanted to drop by and check on you. A whole lot of people are talking about the Red Hood being spotted in Bludhaven and that things were looking up. So, I was hoping you could make some time and chat."  

Comparisons happen in all families and the Robin's were probably the ones who were compared the most in their communities. There was this belief that each of the men who wore the "R" had their specialties and could be categorized by them. That's the consequence for being brothers or, at the very least, being part of a legacy. People will want to pick, prod, and compare you to one another. It's hard not to. Dick was fortunate because he was the first but it didn't mean that he didn't get a taste of it. Dick was the favorite, Jason was the screw-up, and Tim was the prodigy. Dick was the acrobat, Tim was the detective, and Jason was the fighter. It always felt borderline insulting because it implied that they lacked all the other skills. 

"So yeah... how're you feeling?" 

He hadn't told Bruce, Tim, Babs, or even Alfred that he had planned on making this trip to his old stomping grounds. A lot of people had tried to reach out to Jason in the past and each time he put on a tough guy act or tried to kill them. As far as Dick was concerned, the only people who needed to know about this conversation were the two eldest brothers of the Bat and Dick was not here to give Jason a pep talk. Dick stood silently as he waited for Jason to respond. The water lapped up against the docks and, in the distance, a foghorn blew from a freighter pulling close to port. A cold breeze blew in from the ocean and cut through his leather jacket. 


Jason Todd

He grimaced at the mention of his previous attire. One of these days, he’d have to look into how his sense of style often seemed connected to his… stability at the time. His less than stellar history, though, wasn’t something he liked poking at—he still found some aspects difficult to live with and when he thought about them he couldn’t breathe—so he definitely wasn’t going to be looking into that any time soon.

Thankfully, his mask hid his reaction, so he appeared as unaffected as ever as he responded drily back: “I’m not the one who had a tail growing out of my head.” He’d seen the pictures.

Dick was being annoyingly casual about the whole interaction, winking and even turning his back to Jason, but nope Jason wasn’t going to be fooled. He wasn’t going to let Dick lull him into a false sense of security. Just because the other man was dressed in civvies didn’t mean this wasn’t all part of some scheme to grab Jason and cart him off to Arkham again. It had been Dick to send him there in the first place. Well, technically, it’d been the justice system, but he knew there were strings that could’ve been pulled, had him sent literally anywhere else. But nope: Jason was a murdering psycho so he belonged where all the other murdering psychos went, even the one who had f**king killed him.

His fists clenched dangerously at the thought as he stared at Dick’s back. He shut his eyes tightly, breathed in through his nose and held it for a moment before releasing it through his mouth. He focused on bringing the rage boiling in his belly to a low, manageable simmer. He wasn’t a loose cannon anymore, he refused to be. He was done proving them all right.

Dick was talking again and Jason, though still generally annoyed at Dick’s presence, latched onto the new topic. If Dick’s back wasn’t turned and Jason not wearing his helmet, he would’ve sent the other a disbelieving look, but he did scoff in doubt. The last thing he expected was for Dick to seek him out just to chat. The two had never been close—a disappointment for Jason when he was younger, as he’d kinda grown up idolizing Robin like every other damn kid in the city—and have been at each other’s throats since Jason’s return. Dick could also hold a grudge when he wanted to: a commonality between the two Jason didn’t want to admit to. So, yeah, he wasn’t stupid. Dick couldn’t just show up and-

The question was unexpected, catching him off guard, and Jason searched—looked high and low and scratched and dug through every inch of that damn sentence—for the insincerity—the ulterior motive—he knew was there.

He didn’t find it.

Which wasn’t to say it wasn’t there. Deception was one of the first things Bruce taught his proteges: no use having a secret identity if you couldn’t keep it. Still, there was a part of him… relieved to not find it. Which was stupid, because Jason had no desire to reconcile or whatever with Dick. He was completely fine with the entirely deliberate avoidance he’d had going on until now. It wasn’t possible anyway. They’d hurt each other too much for there to ever be anything but animosity between them.

Right?

Hesitating despite himself, he eventually stepped up next to Dick. He was a good space away, enough to get a decent warning for any incoming attack from the other man. He didn’t turn his gaze to the sea like Dick did, keeping his guarded gaze on the vigilante next to him.

He wanted to say something witty, yet scathing: “Well, I’m not dead again, so can’t complain” or “Fine until I saw your stupid mug.” He couldn’t help but think, though, about the state Dick had last seen him in. He swallowed roughly, finally glancing away. “Better.” The word was gruff, peeking out through a thick wall of defenses and if Dick was truly offering an olive branch, then this would be Jason’s: honesty.

Dick smiled. Maybe at the remark about his old haircut (he still thought was a cool look) or maybe it was due to Jason being honest with him and not the hard to read, sarcastic person he normally was. If Jason was going to be honest with him, he'd return the favor. 

"Good. I'm glad to hear that." 

Maybe it was all that time he'd spent with Damian but he'd learned that people can't always be judged by the appearance they put out into the world. Damian Wayne was an arrogant, braggadocios grandson of one of the greatest assassins the world has ever known. Yet, he was also just a scared to death little kid under the veneer. Just as Tim had been when he started out. He was excited and determined, but he'd also been scared and felt unprepared. Hell, it was how he felt when he first started out. There was this rage that burned deep inside of him to avenge his parents' death at the hands of Tony Zucco and this sense of adventure but there had also been fear. It was something Bruce would never understand and could never understand. Bruce began training when he was a kid, but he wasn't getting shot at or witnessing grizzly murders before he ever learned how to shave. It was the same bond he had formed with Wally, Roy, and Donna. The adults were more mature, more prepared for the ugliness of the world they chose to take arms against. The kids had to learn on the fly. 

Which is where he realized that he'd done Jason dirty. He didn't know Jason Todd - not the same way he knew Tim and Damian. When he had picked up the Robin name, Dick and Bruce weren't on speaking points and Dick hadn't cared if he ever returned to Gotham. That was ten years ago. If he had been less stubborn, less angry and resentful towards Bruce, maybe he could have been a mentor to Jason just like he had with Tim and Damian? Maybe none of that other stuff would have happened to him? Maybe they'd be brothers and best friends instead of former enemies and awkward relatives at best. Jason Todd, despite the gruff exterior, had to have been just like Damian, Tim, and himself when they started out - terrified. 

"Do you like Bludhaven? It's cool if you don't. I hated this place when I first moved out there. First thing I witnessed was a young girl getting attacked by two men and if that isn't the Blud's welcome wagon then I don't know what is." 

It was a bad time. The criminals were blatant about their attacks and the cops didn't care one bit. Hell, the first time he dropped by the police station that had tried to kill him. Still, he couldn't ignore the good the city had done for a boy still transitioning into a man. Sometimes the best lessons you learn are the most painful. 

Dick decided to take a seat at the edge of the Wharf and look down. By now he'd made his intentions known to Jason. He wasn't here to attack him or make this a confrontational visit. Maybe it was his way of trying to make amends or maybe it was his way of just trying to be the brother he should have been. Truth be told, Bruce returning was just another reminder that, while he loved the man, he didn't want to live like him. He wanted to be open, honest, and a better person. Regardless, Dick Grayson was sharing a moment with Jason Todd and so hell must be frozen over at this point. 

Jason Todd

“It’s a s**thole” he said simply in response to Dick asking him his opinion on the infamous city. Really, Jason felt it was the most accurate description he could give. One would think, after even bothering to rebuild the damn place, that people and the government would’ve put a bit more effort into making the city actually habitable than they had before. But nope. They’d just half-assed the infrastructure, waited until the radiation was at an “acceptable risk level,” then invited whoever had the guts or misfortune to come and stake a claim. Hell, there were drugs being peddled out of the city that were made from Chemo’s leftovers, which was all kinds of stupid. He wouldn’t be surprised if junkies started growing extra limbs and flying.

Dick sat down on the edge of the wharf, but Jason remained standing. Just because he’d let his emotional guard slip just the slightest bit, didn’t mean he was going to let the same happen to his physical one. Besides, he was distinctly aware of how easy it would be to simply push Dick into the disgusting water below. It wouldn’t kill or even hurt the former Boy Wonder—Dick obviously knew how to swim just fine—but it would give him a decent infection if he had any open enough wounds. Jason wasn’t going to, so long as this conversation remained as unbelievably civil as it was, but his brain couldn’t help but take notice and store it away as an option. He wondered why Dick was even leaving himself open like that. Maybe he didn’t think Jason could do it, that he’d be too slow or too clumsy in his efforts. Or perhaps, a part of him thought and it took conscious effort to bring it to the forefront of his mind, that’s his olive branch.

Whatever. He wasn’t throwing out either option just yet.

“But I’m used to s**tholes” he continued after only a brief pause. It was true. Blüdhaven was basically just Crime Alley on a larger scale. Jason had grown up in the most crime-infested part of Gotham, so he’d yet to actually be surprised by anything Blüdhaven had thrown at him.

He released a frustrated breath, gaze moving to the sea beyond them. He had the urge to tug at his hair, but didn’t want to take his helmet off and lose that layer of defense. It was stupid: him just standing here and chatting it up with Dick Grayson as if they were old buddies and not two assholes who barely knew each other and had viciously fought in the past.

“What are you really here for, Dick?” His voice sounded more tired than he intended and he had to clear his throat slightly to achieve the sardonic asshole tone he was going for. “Wanted to see if I kept your city warm for you before you sent me packing?” Yeah, Dick had said he just wanted to “chat,” but in the end, Dick was a Bat. Hell, it wasn’t too long ago he was the Bat. There was an ulterior motive there, because there never wasn’t with any of them. And Jason just really wished he would cut to the chase. He’d had his fill of false pretenses from these people.

Dick nodded in response. Really, Bludhaven didn't deserve any better than that. There were good people there, yes, and a lot of people who were capable of doing good but the city itself? Rotten. When Dick lived there the foundations were rotten until the city turned into a crater and, even then, they used the same rotten foundations to rebuild. He thought for a moment of the good people who had been in the city when the Chemo got dropped on it like a bomb. For every crooked politician, dirty cop, and drug pusher/arms dealer in the Blud... there had been ten honest religious figures, fire fighters, bankers, gas station attendants, fast food workers, grocery store clerks... men, women, and children. Christ, the children. Dick paused to turn back to Jason but, in reality, he was looking past Jason and at the city itself. Bludhaven wasn't really Bludhaven. The Bludhaven Dick had known, fallen in love in, won in, lost in, and nearly died in was dead herself. All of the people he knew, his friends... old coworkers... ex-girlfriends had either left the city or died in the explosion. The reason he felt nothing being there was that this city was just that - nothing to him. It was a blank slate. This was just a facsimile built on the ashes of the real thing. 

He sighed. He wanted to bury his hands into his pockets but he hadn't forgotten who he was talking to. Not only had he faced Jason, but putting his hands into his pockets could be interpreted as him reaching for a weapon. This was a mission of peace but Jason didn't have to accept it. The fact of the matter was that the two had been beating the hell out of each other since Jason resurfaced and they didn't exactly part on good circumstances last time. Even though they were having a nice little moment, Jason reminded him that... well... he's Jason. He had a fiery temper himself and it was so, so easy to let that go and meet Jason tit for tat. What would that prove, though? That's what Batman would do and he's not Batman - not anymore. Besides, he knew Jason was armed and he came here weaponless to prove a point. He could get around guns. That was never the issue. The issue was Jason was trained just as well as he had been but was better at it. 

The statement that got him, though, was Jason implying that Bludhaven was still his city. Dick smiled in response. In a sense, Jason was right. He was coming to check on his city just as much as he was checking on Jason. 

"This isn't my city anymore, Jason. My city got destroyed by Chemo a few years ago and I guess that's what I'm here to see. I was so busy with Damian and the cowl that I never got a chance to come back to the Blud. Now that I'm here... this isn't my Bludhaven." 

He wanted to leave the statement open-ended. Jason didn't need his permission to operate anywhere and Dick wouldn't be the person to grant it even if it was necessary. He knew the importance of going out there on his own and setting up shop in a blank slate city. Bludhaven built him up and helped him become better for it. Maybe that's what Jason needed. Gotham was always going to belong to Bruce but here? In this new Bludhaven? Maybe this one belonged to the Red Hood. He looked at his own reflection in that damn red helmet. It made him mad. Why was it always so hard with Jason? Even now, coming here and trying to be friendly he was as rough as sandpaper. 

"I don't want you and me to be... you and me anymore, alright? I don't like fighting you. I don't like hating you. I don't like feeling that you are a threat and I know there is a part of you that doesn't want that either. Christ, Jason, I have no clue what I even want us to be but whatever that is - it isn't this."

He didn't mean for it to come out that way. Maybe it was all the time working with Damian and seeing that growth take place. If he could form a brotherhood with a tiny terror, trained assassin... why couldn't that happen with Jason too? It just felt wrong hating someone who went through the same paces that he did as Robin and, frankly, he regretted not being there for Jason when he needed it. 

"So yeah. You don't need my permission to stay here and I'm not here to give it to you. If you want to stay in Bludhaven - good. This city needs help and maybe you can succeed where I failed and keep it safe." 

Maybe the reason Bludhaven had fallen was due to Dick being too soft and too emotional. Maybe what a place like Bludhaven really needed was someone with a rougher approach like Jason Todd. Regardless, Dick didn't think this conversation would go any further than this. At the end of the day, he was Dick Grayson and Jason Todd was Jason Todd. Maybe this is the way it would always be. 



Jason Todd

He almost asked about Damian when the kid was brought up. He had no right to ask, though. He’d shot and fought the kid and never been anything other than an asshole to him. It was a habit of his whenever he was at his lowest: taking out his frustration and pain on whoever happened to be wearing the R on their chest at the time. It was stupid that he of all people would forget there was just a kid beneath that symbol. Too late to do anything about it now, though. Besides, bringing up Dick’s little—former—sidekick left the possibility of Dick bringing up Jason’s and there was no way in hell he was discussing that.

He continued to eye Dick suspiciously, even as the other man disavowed himself from the new Blüdhaven. Like with everything else he’d said so far, he seemed sincere enough. This… this he supposed was something he could accept. He knew what it was like to return to what had once been your home and see nothing but a ghost.

No, it was what Dick said next that skittered and halted in Jason’s brain. It didn’t fit. He’d come to terms with his role in the “family.” He was the failure, the black smear nobody liked and everyone wanted to be rid of. He was the reckless Robin who got himself killed and then came back psychotic. He’d wronged all of them as much as they’d wronged him, maybe even more so. They had no reason to want anything to do with him. So, Dick saying he wanted a sort of peace that didn’t involve locking Jason up? Yeah, didn’t fit.

But, damn him, Dick was right. Jason didn’t want to be the horror story passed down from Robin to Robin. He didn’t want to fight with Dick or- or Bruce or even any of them, really. He was tired of it. It had just never seemed possible and so he had never admitted it to himself, not really. He’d learned at a young age not to want things he couldn’t have. And a second chance? With the people he had trusted so deeply and had hurt him just as deep and he had hurt and-? It couldn’t happen, it just… couldn’t. But-

He was starting to feel nauseous. He needed to reign himself in. He was looking to deeply into Dick’s words. He wasn’t offering Jason brotherhood or forgiveness or something… stupid like that. It was just a truce. Professional, not personal.

Ever grateful for the helmet and how it hid his every expression, he blinked several times and shifted his body out of the rigid way it had locked up in surprise. His fingers twitched with the urge to grab the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He needed to say something, he knew, but this was not something he’d prepared a response for.

“They reopened Ming’s last week” he blurted and he wanted to hit himself. Why was a donut shop best known for their egg rolls of all things the first thing that came out of his dumb mouth? What even was this? A random comment? A change of subject? An invite? He honestly didn’t know. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugged, speaking perhaps a little too fast. “So, you know, some of the good stuff stuck around too.”

He knew, really, in the back of his mind what he was doing. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, say it, but he was accepting Dick’s truce, this chance.

Dick read Jason's body language; still stiff and rigid. He was bracing himself but for what? He had no intention of attacking him and told him as much. There wasn't much more he could say to him. At this point either Jason believed him or he didn't. Dick stood across from Jason waiting for the inevitable cold, snide remark. At which point he'd just give up the ghost and leave. He still wanted to check in with Tim before he went on his way - wherever that was. 

Then Jason spoke. It wasn't much. Just a remark about an old restaurant but it wasn't rude or brisk. If anything it was a step in the right direction. Dick smiled in return. He'd taken a date or two there. "They reopened Ming's? Man, that brings back some memories. Any idea if they plan to reopen Hogan's Alley?"

Hogan's was an old cop bar that he worked at for a while when he first moved to the Blud. It wasn't much but it was his best source to keep his ear to the ground. Bludhaven wasn't the most welcoming to a mask from Gotham so there wasn't going to be that friendly co-operation like there was with Babs' dad. He wondered if Jason was having similar problems there or even if he cared to get the cops involved or not. Jason had his own way of doing stuff and being involved with the law probably wasn't typically the plan. 

Jason Todd