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Times Being What They are

Summary:

You and Jason end up working a case together and start a prison riot.

Notes:

This is a follow up to my "Lover, Tell Me, If you're able" as I was gently nudged to give it a happier ending but because my brain is weird it demanded that I also write a prison break story. I think this fic could stand alone but it's better if you read the previous one first.

This piece is intended for a gender-neutral reader. Again, I tried.
Key:

(e/c) = eye color
(y/n) = your name
(l/n) = last name
(f/n)= fake name

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“We’re almost there! We’re almost there!” A voice cried out in front of him bubbling with hope and excitement. The rapid staccato of feet against rock echoing around him frantically in motion. 

 

An endless expanse of darkness seemed to stretch between him and the voice. His feet picked up trying to chase the distant warmth of the sonorous voice calling out to him with so much fondness. He could feel his stretching and reaching out and flailing trying to catch the person in front of him. 

 

“Jason,”

 

“Jason!”

 

“Ja-”

 

The searing light of the sun blinded him then an even more oppressive darkness crowded him. 

 

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Jason rubbed his face at the memory. If you could call it that. It was more of a remembered feeling than an actual memory. 

 

Jason was irritable, tired, and frankly, he wanted to punch someone. It was bad enough that he’d forgotten to sneak in more cigarettes. Now, his mind was being a little bitch and throwing bits and pieces at him nonstop. He suspected whatever his mind was screaming at him about had something to do with why he was acting,well, strange. 

 

Ok, stranger than usual. 

 

Ok, maybe, out of character might be the better turn of phrase. 

 

Jason usually hummed while he worked. It was an old habit he’d picked up somewhere. He wasn’t entirely sure. But lately? He was full-on singing. Ok, he wasn’t belting out Disney songs but it was kind of hard to look intimidating when you were singing show tunes or musical scores while you were curb-stomping a guy’s head.

 

Oh if only that was the end of it. Jason could have just gritted his teeth 'til the urge went away. 

 

“Aaaaaawww, Jaybird, you’re starting a nest,” Roy teased as the three of them marveled at Jason’s impressive collection of impulse bought fleece blankets. By their count, he was now the proud owner of ten fleece blankets and half-a-dozen electrical ones. All fuzzy and soft and cozy and all out to ruin his stone-cold badass look. 

 

Roy absolutely loved it. He spent weeks teasing Jason about it and even got Kory in on it. 

 

Jason was absolutely sure it was never going to end. 

 

Thankfully, it did. 

 

But what followed was worse. 

 

So much worse. 

 

By the pull of some universal fuckery, Jason started researching engagement ring designs. Not just casually browsing. Researching. He’d gone to a lot of sites -This is how Roy and Kory found out that he had a Pinterest account- and looked up a lot of references. He even had a sketch going. 

 

Then…

 

He was window shopping for god’s sake. 

 

He had a custom engagement ring made!

 

He didn’t even know why. 

 

Roy wheezed. Kory was also a little amused. 

 

“Jason, You’re turning into your final form! The Ultimate House Husband! ”

 

His hand twitched at the memory, wanting to reach for the cigarettes in his pocket but he couldn’t. Not if he wanted to avoid beating the piss out of someone for information. He really wanted to punch Roy. Actually, he kind of wanted to punch himself more right now. He’d taken on this case to try and get his head straight but what he didn’t count on was his dumbass brain forgoing the need to prepare. So now he was stuck in a state prison, with the minimal amount of cigarettes, investigating a string of murders, and praying that he doesn’t get himself killed before Roy brings him another shipment of cigarettes. 

 

He blew out an exasperated breath and leaned against the wire fence observing. The other side of the yard. Without meaning to, he began to hum. Suppressing another wave of annoyance, he continued to hum. Not like he had anything better to do with his mouth. 

 

“Lover, tell me, if you can, Who’s gonna buy the wedding bands~” 

 

His heart stuttered but he made no move to show his surprise. He simply continued to hum and tap his foot along as your sonorous voice continued the song. In the corner of his eye, he could see kind eyes looking at him and the edge of a lopsided, playful smile inching towards him.  There was something soothing about your presence that almost made him want to lean closer to you and listen to you sing. He planted himself firmly against the fence and clamped his jaw hut resisting the urge to play along. 

 

Times being what they are; Hard and getting harder all the time~

 

Lover, when I sing my song; All the rivers sing along, And they're gonna break their banks for me- ” Jason clamped his hand over his mouth and hissed profanities under his breath only to get his attention yanked away by the one responsible. 

 

“You got some good pipes there, lover,” A strangely familiar pang of irritation and embarrassment flared in his chest as he stood up to his full height, letting his broad, intimidating figure tower over you to, hopefully, scare you off. Your eyes bulged and your body locked and your breath seized seemingly caught in your chest. Sadness, recognition, hope, and resignation all flicker across your features in mere seconds before your face settles into a pleasant smile. He pulled his hand away letting you see the snarl that formed on his lips. Instead, your eyes simply crinkled in amusement as your lips wobbled, staving, what he assumed, to be laughter.  Any fear he’d expected you to feel was nonexistent.

 

“If you don’t want me calling you that, give me a name, lover?” Your teasing tone had his hackles rising. Your lopsided grin sharpened into a shark-toothed smile as you stowed the reaction for future reference. 

 

“Todd-” Your shoulders hitched a little. The beginnings of a frown threatened to crease your causal smile. “-Harper” Your breath let out in a low imperceptible whistle. That reaction probably warranted more investigation but Jason honestly wanted to end the conversation then and there but you didn’t look ready to let up. 

 

“I’m (f/n),” The name sounded off but he didn’t want to comment on it further not when he’d rather tell you to fuck off. Either he really hates you or his nicotine withdrawal is just that bad. Either way, he is torn between wanting you to stay and wanting you to leave. 

 

A short moment of silence passes before you dig out a carton of cigarettes from you the depths of your orange jumpsuit. Jason’s hand twitched towards you but he pulled back thinking better of it. 

 

“What do you want?”

 

“You look like you’re going to shit a brick,”

 

He probably did. 

 

“What’s in it for you?” He tried rephrasing. 

 

“You won’t look like you’re going to shit a brick,” You sneered but you could clearly see that he’s still skeptical. Good. He’s not stupid. “You seem like a decent enough guy and I need someone tall and scary looking to stand next to me. You’re kind of built like a brick wall,” You added. He frowned. Sure, you weren’t the biggest person in the yard but you clearly weren’t the weakest looking one either. What would make you feel like you needed a bodyguard for he didn’t really know but it might have something to do with the string of murders. He sighed and held out his hand. 

 

This was going to be terrible. 

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You may have lied. 

 

No, you definitely did. 

 

You really weren’t in the market for a bodyguard since you weren’t dumb enough to piss anyone off and you were on pretty good terms with both the guards and the inmates in your cellblock. Sure, there was a murder investigation going on and sure, your block had been attacked a few times but you weren’t quite that worried about yourself. You could certainly hold your own well enough. Plus, the guy wasn’t even in your cell block. 

 

No, you weren’t really interested in that. 

 

Harper, at least, that’s what you’re going with, looked sharp. He was clearly observing the men in the yard with a careful eye before you so rudely interrupted his brooding. 

 

As you move the ringpop ring across your fingers like a coin, you think back to the strange vaguely human shapes around him flickering and congealing and melting into almost images. They had been the only proof of your entry into the underworld. A knot twisted in your gut making your insides churn and rearrange. Todd Harper made you uneasy. 

 

No, It wasn’t actually him. 

 

It was the way hope and doubt flashed in your chest every time you thought of his, admittedly, handsome face. He was handsome in the same rugged way, maybe not cute the same way your Jay was but definitely the same ‘I could kick your ass any day’ kind of handsome. A painfully familiar wave of desperation spread through your chest. The ache of searching resurfaced in your bones and your chest tightened as it always did when your mind became frantic. You placed your hand over your heart as you lay staring up at the mattress above you as though you could trace a constellation holding on to all the answers in its moldy fabric. Your heart pulsed rapidly, aching painfully but jack rabbiting and feeling alive.   

 

Maybe you were able to bring back even just a small part of him back into this world. Maybe. 

 

Your hand clamped down on your chest as your eyes slid closed and tried to smother the small flitting light of hope threatening to burn bright. You were usually sensible. It was how you’ve survived your dangerous lifestyle for this long but at this moment, and maybe in the long list of future moments, the selfish (foolish) part of yourself won out. That night hope bloomed in the wounded parts of your heart. 

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As it turns out, it was, in fact, not terrible.

 

Befriending you had turned out to be a good choice on his part. Calling it a choice was generous though.  You were hard to get rid of AND almost as obnoxiously friendly as Dick ‘Golden Boy’ Grayson himself which apparently worked in your favor considering he saw not one, not two, but three correctional officers slip you candy bars. They hadn’t even done it subtly.  That would explain your seemingly never-ending supply of cigarettes but that put your need for a ‘tall scary person’ into question. It’s not like you were stupid enough to pick fights with the big dogs. You were smart enough to steer clear of them and keep your nose to the ground. Maybe you just feel safer having a bodyguard. He couldn’t really put it past you but it was suspect, to say the least. 

 

Roy, being the godsend that Jason would never admit that he was, had come through with the cigarettes a week in, so Jason had no reason to stick around or play nice with you. But he found that he honestly didn’t want to chase you away. Sure, you could be a pain in the ass and practically made it an artform but two could play it at that game. After being fairly certain that you weren’t the type to shank someone for teasing you, he shot back and boy was it fun. It wasn’t quite as fun as teasing the demon brat or pissing off Bruce but there was something absolutely cathartic about catching you on your game. It might have been the absolutely petulant way you scowled at him when you did or it might have been the way it always seemed to start this verbal boxing match between the two of you. It certainly made talking about the case much more entertaining.  

 

You were less frightened of the murders than you were intrigued. It was nice having a partner on the case. With the Outlaws, he didn’t really have that many opportunities to stretch his detective muscles. To say he was a little out of practice would be an understatement, so working with you helped a little. It also helped that you were sharp as hell. You had somehow figured out his name was fake and the fact that he was there to investigate the murders. You had shrugged it off as a gut feeling fiddling with a ringpop ring that was in one way or another always in your hand but gut feelings didn’t usually involve analyzing nervous ticks and body language. You didn’t really badge him for more but you did insist on being involved in the case which was fine as long as you kept your mouth shut. 

 

Aside from the fact that you were fiendishly observant, Jason had learned a few things about you while working with you.

 

1) Your body temperature control was horse shit. 

 

Actually, no. Horse shit did its job just fine. Your body would let itself freeze to death if you didn’t have extra layers on or if you didn’t huddle in a group of warm bodies.  You clearly would have benefitted from the dozens of blankets he’d started to hoard. 

 

2) You had more sass than brain cells. 

 

This was not an overstatement. Not even close. You had about as much of a self-preservation instinct as a Robin. He should know. You never looked for fights but you had a talent for pissing people off when you let your mouth run. You were definitely a liability. 

 

3) You sang a lot. 

 

It wasn’t too hard to catch on to your nervous tick.  Trained by the world’s greatest detective after all. He liked it though. Ok, sure you weren’t some budding starlet and you definitely sang louder than necessary when you were particularly antsy but your voice was beautiful and he didn’t exactly regret punching a guy so you could keep singing. You thanked him in your usual joking fashion but the vulnerable way you looked at him told him just how much you appreciated it. 

 

4) You were obnoxiously endearing. 

 

You had this habit. You had a lot of them but you had this one habit where when you talk about something- anything- you thought was super interesting, your body came alive. All the calm and controlled gestures you had cued up were all thrown out the window in favor of fervent gesticulation. 

 

There was one time when you were both playing a round of poker with a few other inmates and one of the old-timers mentioned something about his grandkid had taken up painting and you just-

 

Lit. Up. 

 

Your shift in demeanor had its own gravity and drew the entire table in as you took a slow breath before your face broke into an enthusiastic smile. You launched into various tales about Renaissance artists and their strange escapades. Your hands flew every which way as if it felt like your words weren’t doing a good enough job of showcasing the sheer absurdity that was Benvenuto Cellini who had, apparently, murdered his way across Italy while he wasn’t painting. A true murder hobo.  You had the entire table ensnared in your enthusiasm that even old Brooks smiled and the guy looked like he was born frowning. Like Bruce. It was fifteen minutes into your ted talk that you’d noticed you had gotten up on to the table and with a sheepish laugh you got down. The old guys gave you hell for it but he found it adorable. 

 

Damn it. He might have gotten attached. 

 

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Jason eyed you for the fifth time in the last two minutes. Now, you loved looking at his eyes and all and it certainly sent thrills up your spine the way his sculpted features betrayed how intently he analyzed you but your anxiety could only stand so much analysis before it bordered on uncomfortable. 

 

“Harper, either kiss me or spit it out,” 

 

Jason choked, wheezing in a particularly thick cloud of smoke as a blush crept up his strong neck up to his face making him look less like a hardened criminal and more like a schoolboy with a crush. Over the past few weeks, you’d learned that it was actually quite easy to make him blush and now was one of those days that made you curse the fact that you need to hide the fact you had a camera. 

 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re absolutely insufferable?” Jason muttered into the heel of his hand as he used the rest of his palm to cover the ever-growing flush of his skin. You smiled around the still unlit cigarette pinched between your plush lips and raised a brow at him. 

 

“So you’ve been making bedroom eyes- ”

 

“I-” He spluttered and then groaned. His face pulled into a frown clearly frustrated with his unreasonably flustered reaction. He doesn’t know why but it was so hard being composed around you the jack rabbiting in his chest really wasn’t helping. He let out a long exasperated sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. He was going to deck you. He scowled at you trying to distill pure hatred into his stare but you shook it off easy as anything and gave him a Cheshire grin clearly noticing the upward twitch in the corners of his lips. Yeah, he was definitely going to deck you one of these days.  

 

“How’d you end up here?”

 

“I committed a crime. I didn’t exactly check-in at the front desk,”

 

He rolled his eyes and bit back a chuckle. “I’m being serious, dipshit. You’re- Look, you’re clearly not the kind who’s stupid enough to get caught, what gives?”

 

Actually, you were. 

 

You gave him a sheepish grin. 

 

He blinked at you confused then frowned then sighed then rubbed his hand over his face. You were going to age him 10 years by the time he was done with his investigation. 

 

“You fucking moron,” He managed hand over his eyes and smile grin creeping across his face. 

 

He definitely said moron but it sounded oddly endearing. You fidgeted with your toy ring slipping it from finger to finger-like how old Tony taught you a few days ago as you thought back to it. You weren’t exactly stupid. Far from it. Ok, you were a little. But you weren’t some amateur. You knew how to bust a guy’s knee caps and make damn sure the cops never found you (or possibly him). No, beating the piss out of that creep was just a bonus especially after he got away with ruining that woman’s life. 

 

 “Oh, I landed myself in a trial with a corrupt judge who told me he’d give me a lighter sentence in exchange for yanno-” You chuckled making vague hand gestures. Jason’s shoulders tightened as a surge of protectiveness swelled in his chest.  “-Well,  I- a respectable citizen-” Jason snorted. You made a brief look of mock hurt. He simply sneered at you in return.  “-told him to suck his own cock in front of the entire court so instead of giving me a lighter sentence he landed me here. What did he think was gonna happen?” You let out a short, breathy laugh that sounded more like the death rattle of a hyena or maybe a coyote than the cackling of any respectable citizen. 

 

Your laugh.

 

It was your laugh. 

 

It was your stupid, ugly, beautiful, heartwarming laugh.

 

Jason felt his world tumble as the ache of longing coiled in his chest snapped. It was the kind of ache that you never noticed ‘til it wasn’t there anymore. His vision spun and became misty. His body felt like it was being drawn back while his chest crowded with a cocktail of emotions he couldn’t quite discern not when his mind was jacking between static scenes. Sound bites and stills of your greatest hits flitted through his mind warming his chest and making his stomach do cartwheels. He felt years worth of love for your filling his chest making it almost hard to breathe.   

 

“Harper?” The worry soaking your voice made his stomach still. Your breath hitched. Fear and concern and pain all-flash across your face before you settle on concern. You nudged him and stooped lower into a crouch hand soothingly running down his arms. He followed feeling his body tremble as emotions ravaged him.  You were looking around frantically scanning the area, your posture ready and protective. You did your best to shield him from prying eyes as you always did. 

 

How could he have forgotten you? 

 

“Jesus, Harper, are- are you ok?” you ask, voice softer than he’d ever heard it, as you take his face into your hand as delicately as you could. You swiped a thumb across his cheek wiping away a tear. “J- Harper, You’re ok. You’re ok. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” You whisper voice low but filled with as much steadiness you could muster.  The gesture was tender, tender enough to make him want to cry more. 

 

“Pfft, who’s being stupid now?” you teased trying to lighten the mood. He was being amazingly stupid. He was definitely acting infinitely more stupid than he should. No, he was being incredibly fucking stupid even before this. He could feel the gentle press of the plastic ring on your hand. 

 

Why do you still have that? 

 

Because you still haven’t given me a proper one,

 

Oh, yeah he was saving up for one. 

 

Suddenly the ring he’d tucked away in his pocket burned. He felt flush as you continued to fuss over him. He leaned his face into your hand and closed his eyes letting himself sink into your soothing presence.  If you were uncomfortable, you made no mention of it. You simply let him soak in the feeling of your hand pressed against his face while you hummed an all too familiar tune. 

 

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His memories of you came back in waves over the last few days. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to relive his homeless days while he slept but to his surprise most of the memories he had of you were fond. They didn’t crowd his mind with fear and anxiety. His memories of you were soothing in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. What kept him up was the urge to hold you and the guilt.  The last thing he remembered about you was that you were bragging about convincing your robotics coach to let your robot spout out action movie lines when it dealt the killing blow.  Why the hell are you here? 

 

Jason sighed, running his hand over his face. He was pretty sure he had eye bags a mile long on his face. He tapped his foot impatiently as the dial tone rang for what seemed like 30 minutes. 

 

“Hey Jaybird, you’re sounding worse for wear,”

 

“Nice to hear from you too, asshole,”

 

“So, what’s so urgent, hubby?”

 

“Change of plans,”

 

“Uh Jay, I need a little more time to steal-”

 

“No, the timeline is fine. I just-” He groaned. Shit. He hadn’t really had time to think of how to explain this properly. How does one explain finding your childhood sweetheart in jail to your best friend? “We need to adjust the extraction for two people,”

 

“What fell in love with your cellmate?”

 

“...”

 

“Noooo, Jaybird, we’ve talked about thi-”

 

“I did not fall in love with my cellmate. I- I found an old friend who really has no business being in prison,”

 

“Sure, Jaybird, whateeeever you say. Kory is definitely gonna believe that excuse,”

 

“Roy...”

 

“Yeah. Yeah. Anything you want Jay. Just so you know-”

 

“I’ll punch Oliver for you the next time we bump into him. No. Actually, I’ll hold him so you can punch him,”

 

“That sounds like a pretty good deal,”

 

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You two had narrowed the suspects down to the ones in your cell block. You’ve thankfully ruled out your roommates. You weren’t exactly looking for an excuse to be more paranoid but Jason had been pretty adamant that  Hardin, one of his roommates, was definitely a suspect. No, Hardin was just a fucking creep and an absolute asshole. Your most likely suspect for the grizzly murders was actually from the female prison population. An old woman named Marta. She was a hardened bitch, one of the prison’s three harpies,  with a background in butchering. Yes, but no murder weapon. Not yet. It had been hard to get around to sneaking into her cell seeing as you have been acting strange for the past week. 

 

Jason had been acting oddly protective since last week while it was cute for the most part it was hard to move. You weren’t stupid. Smooth as he tried to play it,  you noticed. And you may or may not have teased him about it but you didn’t exactly stop him when he sat and stood closer to you even without thinking. He had developed a tendency to lean into your space or pull you close. Hell, there was even a time where shoved you behind him when someone was eyeing you. While hopelessly endearing, it was inconvenient.  

 

So you decided to sneak around while the prison psychiatrist interviewed him. Procedure, the correctional officers said. They were probably just conducting a study. Informed consent. Yeah, right. Opting out of breakfast as you were wont to do, you decided to sneak around. You weren’t the worst at sneaking around but you also weren’t an actual ninja, so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when they found you.  

 

And this is how you found yourself running for your life in the under-construction part of the prison as a gaggle of old women chased after you. You didn’t know which part was sadder, the fact that you came out empty-handed, or the fact that they were clearly more athletic than you. 

 

Either way, this wasn’t really how you wanted to die. 

 

You felt a large hand tug you into one of the dimly lit halls. Even in the dim light, you could easily make out his green eyes. Silently he pressed you against the wall using his large body to shield you from view.  

 

A long moment passes. 

 

He pressed closer to you, his body feeling solid and warm enough for you to forget the brick wall behind you. There was a strange sense of free all in this. A kind of dangerous thrill that you weren’t entirely sure you were going to get back up from. Your breath was caught somewhere in your chest. You try your best to convince yourself that it was because you were hiding from three women who threatened to skin your ass alive but it was kind of hard to do when you could feel his hot breaths fanning your face and his abs- Damn it. Pull it together. You’re a fucking professional. Ok, not really but the sentimentality holds. You tried to look anywhere but his face knowing that a blush was definitely painting your face  but his eyes held yours in place. His eyes bore into your skin and made your pulse soar. You could almost hear the three women pass by but you weren’t entirely sure since your heart was threatening to bust its way out of your chest. YOU WERE NOT GOING TO KEEL OVER JUST BECAUSE OF A HOT GUY, you hoped. Ok, you might. Maybe the obituary will be nice and not mention it. 

 

You felt Jason relax. His grip on your hip loosening a bit but not enough to get away. You slumped into the wall feeling your own muscles relax. He leaned his head against yours as if somehow knowing just how comforting the gesture was to you. 

 

“Yanno, I think I like you like this, babe,” He mumbled mischievously into your hair. 

 

You looked up at him making damned sure to etch your frustration into your features. He simply grinned at you as if you had done something adorable. You could feel his laughter rumble in his chest as he pulled you close. Your face somehow grew hotter and an embarrassing sensation of safety overcame your murderous urge. You were pretty sure you would have to murder him to preserve your dignity. Maybe.  

 

…….

 

This was actually a really stupid plan. Some might even call it moronic. 

 

“Look it’s the best way to sneak my guy past the guards and get the guards to inspect her cell,”

 

“Has it occurred to you that we might die from this?”

 

“Yeah but only one of us already has their head on the chopping block, sweetheart,” 

 

You let out an exasperated huff. Yeah. That bitch did basically tell you that you were next but still. 

 

“A prison riot? Seriously?”

 

“You got a better idea? I’m all ears,”

 

You didn’t. “Fine. When?”

 

“Today. Lunch. Hope you weren’t too attached to your stuff,”

 

At that, you shoved your hands in your pockets. One hand fiddling with the phone you had in your pocket and the other checking for the ring. You were good. You nodded telling him as such. He nodded giving your shoulder a squeeze to reassure you he’d make sure you would make it out of this alive. Hopefully, he keeps his promises. 

 

Waiting for lunch was agonizing, not only because you were hungry but because you were also pretty sure you would die and you weren’t happy about having to spend your last few hours alive doing laundry. No, you really would have preferred spending it curled up on your couch but you weren’t that lucky besides you have a job to do. You sighed and placed the ring on your finger in an attempt to calm your nerves. 

 

So how does one start a prison riot?

 

Simple. 

 

Dangle you right in front of the bitch who wanted to kill you. 

 

That couldn’t possibly work, right?

 

Uh.... It did? 

 

With a little coaxing.

 

 What you weren’t aware of was just how bad Marta’s temper was, so when you whispered words of blackmail in a honey-sweet voice she let you have it smashing a tray in your face. The rest of the cafeteria followed suit. Maybe Jason had done something. Or maybe you were just somehow unaware of the mounting tensions in the prison. Or maybe they were just looking for a reason to go ape shit. Either way, your head was spinning. 

 

Yeah, this was a terrible plan. You were now going to die by a food tray and it was all Jason’s fault. 

 

Just as she was about to land another hit,  Jason snatched you up. You murmur a thanks and let the relief wash over you when you hear a loud clang from your side. Jason grunted clutching his head. Another clang. And another. Jason did his best to shield you from the blows but you really weren’t about to let him take the fall. 

 

You launched yourself at Marta, nails and teeth digging into the flesh of her arm. She scrambled pulling your hair hard enough to pull you off her arm. Frenzied with panic, you punch her your knuckles crashing into bones. 

 

Again and again and again until her hand went slack. 

 

Your breaths were heavy and labored. Adrenalin crashing through your veins. You could feel your hand bleeding but everything else felt numb. 

 

The next few minutes were a blur. In a flurry of movement, Jason extricated you from your place on top of the unconscious Marta and hustled you through the crowd seemingly unnoticed by both the guards and the inmates. 

 

The next thing you knew was you were being shoved into an ambulance. Vaguely you could see a red-headed paramedic with what looked like a trucker hat. Roy. That’s what he said his name was. 

 

Yeah, ok. 

 

What the hell. 

 

Your first clear thought was ouch. 

 

Your knuckles were bleeding. You flexed your hand making sure to move each joint carefully.  All of them seemed to be in proper working order and from what you could tell it was fairly superficial. 

 

Your next clear thought was that there was an absence. You flexed your fingers trying to recall what it had been.



Your hand was bare.



You shove your hands into your pocket. 

 

Your phone was there. 

 

Your-

 

It wasn’t there. 

 

It wasn’t there. 

 

Your breaths picked up as you shuffled through every pocket. 

 

Your frantic rustling seemed to draw Jason’s attention away from Roy. 

 

It wasn’t there it-

 

You remember feeling its brittle material crumble as you throttled your fist into Marta’s face. You felt your insides liquidate. You sobbed uncontrollably unable to stop the flood of tears that sprang unbidden from deep within your chest. Your throat felt raw as all the sadness from the past few years shook loose and tried to claw its way out of your throat.  Your breath seized in a feeble attempt at damage control. Even the crushing pressure in your windpipes could not halt the heart-wrenching sob that tore out of you leaving your body trembling. That stupid little ring was your last connection to him. The slow mending patches of your heart carved themselves open. You felt his loss all over again. 

 

Jason’s heart twisted like it was being rung dry at the sight of your shaking form. You look like you would fall apart at the slightest touch. He didn’t doubt it. So as gently as he could, he pulled your hands away from your face and cupped your cheek with one hand. He wiped the tears from your eyes with his thumb as you always did for each other and held your eyes with his own. The unsettling luminescence of his eyes reflecting in your pain-dulled (e/c) one. He could feel his heart tearing through his chest. He knew that he would spend the next eternity making up for this with or without your say so. You deserve much better. So much better than anything you could provide.  You deserve the moon and the stars and he would give you that and so much more only if you’d ask him. To him, you deserved the world. 

 

He pulled his hand away. He could feel your body lean a fraction trying to chase after the warmth of his hand. Slowly, he took your hands into his squeezing them firmly as he cast his gaze on them. He ran his thumbs over the constellation of scars on your knuckles knowing they had never been there before his death. They told a story of how your life had been altered by his death. Angry reminders. 

 

He squeezed them again, careful not to cause any more damage to your right hand. Ethereal green eyes bore into yours earnestly as his handsome face reconfigures into something serious. 

 

“Marry me,”

 

You could hear Roy choke at the driver’s seat. Jason’s posture stiffened as his eyes flickered from you to Roy then back to you. A shy blush crept up from his neck up to his features softening them making them look younger. Just like he did the first time.  

 

“Marry me,” he repeated sheepishly, uncertainty nestling into his brow. 

 

Your lip wobbled. Jason braced himself for- He honestly didn’t know what but when your face broke into a smile his heart fluttered. 

 

“Don’t you need a ring for that, bud?”

 

His uneasy expression melted giving way to a cocky wolfish grin which was one part teeth and  two parts smug bastard. He rooted through his pockets and his hand emerged with a thin band of gold set with eight diamonds that twinkled almost as brightly as the mischief in his eyes. Your breath hitched, eyes widening, mind racing to calculate the cost of the ring.

 

“How the flying fuck did you afford that?”

 

“Told you they’d break their banks for us, so what  do ya say, baby doll?”  

 

You slip your hands from his grasp and take his face into your hands pressing your forehead to his. Your noses touched as you feel his hot very much alive breath fan your face.  You pressed your lips to his letting all the tenderness and longing and relief flood into the tender kiss.

 

In the background, you two could hear Roy whoop as he swerves past what you assume to be an unfortunate civilian based on the scream. You weren’t too keen on investigating, not when Jason pulls you flush against him. 

 

Bonus: 

 

Roy: KOOOOOOORRYY 

 

Kory: Wat???

 

Roy: He finally did it!

 

Kory: what? Who?

 

Roy: Jason finally proposed!

 

Kory: Roy???

 

Roy: Jaybird’s turning into his final form! The ultimate house husband.

 

Kory: WAT?

 

 




Notes:

Thanks for reading!