Chapter Text
Guy was, for the most part, angry.
He knew there was a chance that the boy before him was pulling a fast one over them all, but it was unlikely. That response he had to the mere mention of being hit by his father would be difficult to fake that effectively.
But that meant that Batman, the paragon of justice and doing the right thing at any cost, was also someone who would beat up his own son.
And the odds were, he was a repeat offender. Even if there were only one or two incidents of straight-up assault, there was a good chance that he had engaged in other forms of controlling and abusive behaviour.
It felt absurd, to call Batman a child abuser.
God, this was fucked up.
Especially because this was Batman doing this. The guy had so many other kids - was he abusing them too? Or was it just Jason, and he had managed to hide it from the rest? It seemed unlikely that he would be able to hide something like this from his own family of inquisitive detectives - did they not know what was going on, or did they know and simply not care?
All very good questions, to which Guy would like an answer as soon as possible.
He was also pretty sure that he wouldn't like the answers he got to these questions.
At least he was in a position to do something here, as Jason's... therapist? He didn't really know. He was trained as a psychiatrist, but he hadn't had much actual practice in being one in a one-to-one setting - he'd mostly worked with groups, as a volunteer for organizations that lacked the manpower to provide individualized care and couldn't afford to have a separate psychologist.
And Jason desperately needed someone to look at his very unique needs as a patient. It wasn't every day that you found a group where you could talk about dying, coming back to life, and whatever else he had endured on the way that he was holding close to his chest.
The only one he could think of was Dinah, given that she was a League member herself and was also a pseudo-mother to Roy. That would likely give her a foot in the door when it came to being trusted by Jason, his scary assassin mom and the Outlaws.
But truth be told, he wasn't sure if any League members could be trusted. They'd all let this happen to a former Robin under their noses.
His mouth twisted into a bitter grimace as he remembered that it had been going on under his nose too. At least he and the other Earth Lanterns had the excuse of rarely being on their home planet, bolstered by the fact that they were the ones who were actually trying to do something about it.
Stop. That can wait.
They could ponder what went wrong later when they were in a better place. Now, they had to make things right.
Starting with helping Jason.
I guess I'm doing this.
They were back in the park they had gone to for their first... session? Yeah, session. Jason was sitting with his back resting on a large tree trunk, while Guy was leaning on a large rock.
"I thought you didn't take individual patients." Jason pointed out, the surprise leaking into his voice.
"I don't remember telling you that." Guy responded. His lack of familiarity with the Bats was showing.
"The ship has a connection to the Batservers, and my credentials are still usable. Which, by the way, means that Bruce isn't thinking about kicking me out immediately, so I guess things aren't as bad as they could be."
"First, that's creepy. Don't do that. Second, Batservers?"
"Dick wasn't the only one coming up with shitty names back in the day."
"You know what - I don't think I want to know the details of what you know about me. Just don't look too closely into the browser history."
"Too late."
"Don't tell anyone about it?"
"I thought the confidentiality agreement usually involved doctors not telling on their patients."
"Yeah, I'm just making a humble plea to your better nature."
"Wow, you're actually afraid."
"Yeah, because I'm not stupid. And I'm fighting my deepest fears and finding the courage to talk to a Bat who knows my deepest, darkest secrets."
Jason laughs. "Okay, I'll keep it to myself. You have my word."
"Whew. Thanks a lot for your generosity, O Red Hood."
"Cut it... what are we going to talk about today? Dying? Resurrection? Madness? Daddy issues?"
"None of those, actually... I would tell you about the normal confidentiality stuff, but I don't think I can convince you about why that matters just yet. Instead, we can start with something simple, like you looking into my background. If you don't mind, that is."
"Huh?"
"You knew we were having a session, and you decided to gather every scrap of information you had about me, even though this is for us to talk about you. You haven't displayed any signs of being uncomfortable around me, and you didn't feel the need to do this before when we talked about the idea of getting therapy for the first time."
"You're doing pretty decent detective work here, at this rate I might be out of a job."
"Nah, I'm accustomed to patients feeling uncomfortable, but this... this is different. Very different."
"How so?"
"You're not uncomfortable about therapy, or opening up to me - you already did that. You're scared about something else."
"You're just fine, Guy. But you're just, you know, a guy. Pun intended. You can be manipulated or used in much the same way as anyone else."
"And you want to do the manipulating first?"
"I want to ensure that you take care of maintaining confidentiality more than you normally would."
"And what do you mean by 'normal'?"
"Babs has access to everything that has ever been recorded digitally, and any written records are also vulnerable because pretty much all of us have had dedicated ninja training at some point."
"Even Oracle?"
"Yep. After she became Oracle, at that. I'm pretty sure the guy who trained her counts as ninja-adjacent, at least."
"Who was it?"
"Richard Dragon."
"You know, I have heard of the guy, and I have several questions, but I'm not going to bother asking."
"Good choice."
"But getting back to you looking into my background for leverage - why did you feel you needed it?"
"You need some reason to keep shut when Bruce comes calling. You might be able to secure yourself, by giving me your notes or setting something up with Talia, but they'll just come to you instead. And when they do, you should have some incentive to not spill your guts to them."
"And why do you think I'll do that?"
"There's probably a whole argument to be had about that, but in the end, it boils down to this - Bruce always gets what he wants. No matter the cost, to himself or others."
Guy made a mental note to get back to that later.
"You know, you're supposed to tell me that you're not going to let that happen."
"Honestly, you Bats are scary. I'm not sure if I can promise that. All I can say is that I will try my best."
Jason smiled sadly in response.
"But if you don't mind indulging me for a bit and allow me to make my case - I'd like to talk about this more, about your belief that Wayne always gets his way. You seem to see this as a bad thing."
"A rich white guy who chose the right parents to be born to, who is wealthier than any other individual by a huge margin, who is also Batman and commands a bunch of people by virtue of professed moral superiority, who is used to always getting what he wants. You're telling me that you see no chance for problems with this? Especially with his history of treating you guys like shit?"
"I don't know Wayne. I have met him and worked with him, yes, but I don't know him nearly as well as you do. So tell me, why are you worried about him?"
"He... he doesn't want to admit that he can be wrong. Because if he does, then he has to admit that he's done bad things that he needs to apologize for, and he can't stomach the idea of other people having power over him."
"To be blunt, it seems to be a trait you share with him."
"Oh trust me, I don't have a problem with other people having power over me." Jason winked for added effect. "Just not him."
"You seem to believe he will misuse any power you give him over your person."
"Hell yeah he will. That's what he always does."
"Always?"
"What do you know about my death?"
"Not much. There was a mission, you went ahead to face the Joker without Batman's permission, and you got killed."
"Yeah, so basically a story that disregards all context and is made up of straight-up lies just to ensure that Bruce can tell people that he is the guy who suffered the most from my death, even more than me, the guy who did the dying."
"What's yours, then?"
"So... context first, then."
Jason started drumming his fingers on the ground next to him as he launched into his tale.
"B and I were... not on good terms. I was getting 'too violent' with criminals, and everyone kept talking about how I was going to turn out like my father. Dick hated me because I took his mantle, and thanks to that, I had literally no friends in the hero community. Alfred, thanks to his allegiance to Bruce, wouldn't say a damn thing to the guy, and Barbara's professional opinion of me was that I would never be Dick Grayson."
Guy looked intrigued, and leaned in as Jason went on with his tale.
"Then the Garzonas case happened. In case you don't know - Felipe Garzonas was the son of a diplomat and a rapist. We found him with one of his victims, but he had diplomatic immunity, so he got off scot-free and threatened to go back to rape the woman he had been assaulting. The lady, Gloria Stanson, killed herself, because she, quite understandably, didn't want to be subjected to that kind of senseless traumatizing violence again, especially now that she knew that there was no hope for justice. After all, Batman had decided that she did not deserve any of his sympathy because he's a privileged dipshit and asshole who doesn't understand a fucking thing about how the world works."
Jason could feel the green seeping in, but he didn't want to stop. Not now.
"I was the one who found her dead body. And... Bruce was willing to brush it off, as collateral damage in his job. Like he didn't just abandon her."
Jason barked out a humourless laugh, short and sharp.
"I wasn't exactly willing to let things lie there. So I went to Garzonas. Found him on the balcony of his penthouse, high as a kite off of either the cocaine or the alcohol."
Jason looked Guy in the eye.
"At this point, I'd like to remind you of something - you only have my word for this. Remember that I am the only living witness of what happened. There were no cameras, and not much in the way of conclusive evidence one way or another."
"Okay... go ahead."
"I walked up to him, Batarang in hand, to try and scare him. I didn't have much in the way of concrete plans, but my plans, as far as I can remember, were mainly about cutting him up, breaking a couple of bones, dislocating some joints and maybe a but of castration."
"...Uh, I don't think you can do castration in bits."
"You can't? Shame. Anyway, I was walking up to the guy, and he was scared. So scared that he slipped on the wine that he had spilt and toppled over the balcony and fell."
Guy frowned.
"You only have my word for this, and nothing else. Whether you believe me or not, I don't particularly care anymore."
Guy looked like he was about to say something, but Jason interrupted him.
"Nah, don't bother. Anyway, Bruce came charging in and asked me what happened. I told him that the fucker fell, and I thought that was that. Except that it wasn't, and now Bruce is accusing me of murder with no evidence."
Guy nodded, probably to show that he was following so far. Jason decided to take it as that and keep going.
"A couple of days later, we were fighting some minor drug dealers, and I broke one guy's collarbone. When we came back, we got into another argument. One thing led to another, I don't remember most of what we said. But the end result was him benching me."
The green was becoming brighter, as his anger mounted.
"I was... lost. In a house that I didn't belong in, with people who didn't want me. So I ended up looking through my mother's stuff since that was all I had left of the only parent who had ever loved me."
Jason swallowed thickly, trying to suppress his nervousness.
"Turns out, I wasn't her biological kid. And now that Talia's around, I understand how pointless that was, but back then, it was a chance of finding someone who might love me, and I took it."
Jason knew it was probably a bad idea to try and go through those memories, but he kept going anyway. He had to get this out, to make sure that Guy would take him seriously.
"Her name was Sheila Haywood. She was working as a volunteer doctor for an Ethiopian relief organization, something like Doctors Without Borders but with ties to Gotham. I used Bruce's Amex card to get a ticket to Israel and hopped through a couple of flights to get to Qurac, where they were stationed at the time. Imagine my surprise when I find Bruce there, chasing a lead on the Joker."
Jason looked at Guy to make sure he was paying attention. They were getting to the important part, after all.
"Bruce... he didn't react well to seeing me. He... he..."
"What did he say, Jason?" Guy's voice was calm and soft, but still firmly inquisitive, clamouring for answers.
"He... he said that I wasn't his son."
Jason laughed, to try and prevent himself from crying.
"To be precise, his exact words were something like this - I'm not your father, Jason. I don't need teenage rebellion."
Guy looked shocked, but Jason wasn't really in the mood for stopping, despite all the signs saying that it was a bad idea.
"That was the last time we spoke. Kinda fitting, in a way."
The green began to bleed into his vision, instead of being a mere feeling. He ignored it.
"I tracked down my mother. She was in a warehouse that was connected to the lead Batman was chasing, so... I tried to approach her. To save her. I couldn't just let her die."
Jason laughed again, his cackle cold and harsh and grating.
"So I approached her, and told her that I was her son. She wasn't listening, so I told her that I was Robin. Showed her the costume, took off my mask, said my name. She took a look at me, and told me to come into the warehouse, assured me that the Joker had left."
Jason grimaced, the tears springing into his eyes. This was probably going to get ugly.
"She was lying, of course. Once I was in, she put a gun to my head and handed me over to the Joker. See, she had been embezzling funds from the charity she was working for, and the Joker knew it. Apparently, the plan was to use me as a bargaining chip to save her hide, to escape from the Joker's blackmail. Of course, it didn't work. When the clown was done beating me, he broke her legs too, before leaving and setting up the bomb. But I'm guessing you knew that."
Guy nodded, slow but certain.
"When I realized I couldn't get out, that I was going to die, I tried to shield her, you know. Even though she betrayed me. I wonder why."
"Because you wanted to do the right thing."
"Oh please, don't act as if saving a criminal who sold out her own kid to save herself from embezzlement charges was something that would have benefited the world."
"Then why did you do it?"
"She was my mom."
Guy nodded, but Jason doubted if the other man really understood what he meant.
"I remember... I remember being scared, near the end. After the building blew, and the walls collapsed, and I was choking under the dust. It was dark, and it hurt, but I was still scared."
He felt the green overflow over his vision, covering the world in that dreadful colour.
His collapsed to the ground, his breathing speeding up as he tried to get a hold of himself, fighting to reject the visions that he should have been able to dismiss but remained before his eyes.
He could hear a distant voice calling his name, but they weren't going to be on time. He was going to die here, in this collapsing building, trying to save a mother who didn't want him.
He braced himself, waiting for the explosion to blow him away, for the falling pillars to crush him, for the smoke to burn his lungs and choke him.
But it never happened.
The voice came back, closer and more insistent.
"Jason! You with me?"
Huh? Who's that?
"Tell me five things you can see."
"Uh... a tree trunk. Looks really big. And... grass. It's... more blue than green, now that I look at it. And a rock. It's... reddish-brown?"
"Yep. It is."
"Looks suspiciously similar to Earth."
"You'll be surprised how many planets are like that. Something tells me that green chlorophyll is the correct way for evolution, most of the time."
"There's times when it isn't?"
"Yes. You're doing really well, Jason. Just two more."
"You, obviously. And... the sky. It looks clear. Not even blue."
"Yeah, at least it isn't raining. Now tell me four things you can hear."
"Your voice. The wind. The grass, at least when I move. Also a clicking sound... some bird?"
"It's something like a dog, but not really. You'll hear it quite often, but it's the shy type. I've only ever seen it once."
"We should probably come around with a camera next time."
"Yeah, I guess we should." Guy sounded happy. "You're doing great, Jason. Can you name three things you can smell?"
"The grass. Minty. Should pick some of it up to see what it tastes like, right?"
"Maybe later. Two more, Jason."
"The perfume I wore before coming here. Something sweet, from the trunk here."
"Yeah, that's the bark. The native population uses it as a substitute for honey."
"There's a native population?"
"Yeah, there is. Not many of them, though, so running into people outside of the cities is unusual."
"You gotta take me there sometime, then."
"I will. One more?"
"Oh yeah, your sweat. Smells gross."
"Thanks, I appreciate it." Guy's reply was deadpan, but there was just a slight hint of warmth in his voice.
Jason took a deep breath, as the green faded away.
"You with me now?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, two things - first, if you think that talking about something is bringing up traumatic memories, then stop. We're not in a hurry here. Second, I think we probably need to work on some coping strategies for you when you're alone."
"First - I'm almost always reliving my traumatic memories, at least it was for a decent enough reason this time. Second - what do you propose, pills or square breathing? Because I'm not on board with the first, and I already have a handle on the second."
"Jason, you don't need to try and convince me that you have been wronged by Bruce-"
"Wronged?" Jason laughed mirthlessly. "Guy, he decided to blame a kid for his death just to control his Robins and simultaneously blamed himself to feed his guilt complex."
"Yes, and that is fucked up and wrong. But you don't need to hurt yourself for me to help you."
"I'm always hurting. Isn't your job to cure it, or at least provide some palliative care?"
"Palliative care - what's that supposed to mean?"
"You know, the stuff they give to people who're on the verge of death, like those with terminal cancer-"
"I know what it means, Jason. What's it supposed to signify? Be honest."
"Look, if you want to read suicidal intent into that, that's just you. I'm just being aware of how precariously close to death we always are."
Guy just sighs.
"You got anything else?"
"You said that you don't want medication - do you mind telling me why?"
"I don't want to have to try and suffer through you experimenting with what exact combination of drugs stop me from being an inconvenience."
"Is that what you think you are? An inconvenience?"
"Lemme rephrase that - I don't want to have to try and suffer through you experimenting with what exact combination of drugs remove my inconvenient traits and make me more stable and less prone to hurting the people I care about."
"This isn't about making you easier to tolerate, this is about giving you a chance to build a better life-"
"I have a mother who would do anything for me, and four partners who wouldn't be far behind. I have a daughter and a son, who I love with all my heart and who see the best in me and bring it out to the surface. And I have people, powerful people, I can rely on to be in my corner if I need the extra firepower. It won't get much better than this for me."
"It can. You can learn to be happier. You can learn to break away from the damaging people in your life. You can try and get closure for all the wrongs that have been done to you."
Jason snapped his fingers. "That's it. That right there. Try and get closure. I don't want to try and get closure, Guy. I don't want to waste my time on shots in the dark, over and over and over again, stumbling around for something that works."
"Look, I know it's natural to want a simpler solution, but there isn't one. The human mind is complex, and there's only so much we can do."
"Then get better. I shouldn't have to tell you this. You want me to take what you do as an actual scientific endeavour and not a drunk guy playing darts, get better at your job."
"Jason, I know it's easy to dismiss therapy as something that doesn't work, but it does."
"Oh, I do know it does work. What I'm telling you is this - I don't want the version where you drug me up to figure out what works the best. If you can't work within that restriction, we're done."
"That's fine. We don't need to go down the medication route yet if you're not comfortable."
"It's not a yet, it's a will never do this shit. Remember that."
"Okay." Guy looks significantly less comfortable than before.
"Look, I know it's easy for you to dismiss what I'm saying as an idiot sceptic who doesn't know what he's talking about, but it's not going to change. If you're planning to warm me up to a drug regimen, you better change your plans."
"I'm not planning on giving you drugs against your will, Jason. You're not in any danger right now, so that's not on the table."
Jason sighs. "So, what else you got?"
"Apart from square breaths? Try maintaining a journal, to write down what you see and feel when you have negative thoughts and flashbacks."
"I'm a vigilante. Most of my flashbacks happen when I'm being beaten up with a crowbar by criminals."
"Pick up something outside of vigilantism - a job, a volunteer position, college, whatever you feel like. You need to have something outside of this."
"Yeah, and go to Gotham University? I'll pass. I have a distance degree from Cambridge, and an on-campus degree isn't an option right now. Lian doesn't need to be punted around the Atlantic to an unfamiliar place and a new school system just for me."
Guy seemed like he was still chewing on that, which was probably a problem, but Jason decided to ignore it.
"Anything else?"
"Talk to me. We talk about what is bothering you, work through it, figure out how to deal with it. Hopefully, we find some success with that."
"And you don't bring up drugs again?"
"For now."
"Fine, I'll take what I can get."
They fall into a somewhat comfortable silence, as Jason listens to the clicking sound.
"What exactly does that dog-like thing you mentioned look like?"