Chapter Text
If he was being honest to himself, Jason wasn't sure why he was back. Back to life, back to Gotham, back to being on his own. Back.
But staying with the League surely was not an option now, even though he was pretty sure Talia wouldn't deny him staying with her in Nanda Parbat, Ra’s surely would, and he didn't want to keep training for something that just wasn't worth it.
Why should he? Bruce surely didn't seem to care anymore, if he ever even did, and there was no way he'd kill the clown for Jason of all people.
Jason wasn't sure he wanted to kill the clown either. That'd require seeing the green haired freak again and he didn't exactly appreciate the idea, but at least he'd appreciate it if someone else did the job.
Oh well, who was he kidding? This was Gotham, no one would risk it for the maniac.
So here he was, making his way to his part time job at the good old Cafe that dared to open at the borders of Crime Alley a few years ago, a few months before he became Robin, and trying to convince himself that no, he did not need to call Bruce or Dick or even Alfred because if they didn't contact him after all this time then they obviously didn't want him back.
They probably thought he had gone crazy or something and decided he was better off with Talia anyways. Sometimes he thought that'd be better too.
He opened the employees door at the back of the building, sliding through the corridors silently to change into the Cafe's uniform and start his shift early because Jane had taken her kids to the ER and needed someone to cover for her.
Normally he wouldn't take it but she was nice enough and already had a rough life with her husband in jail and ex-boyfriend being a dick, the last thing he needed was for her to be fired or something like that.
She reminded him of Catherine, in a way.
He wanted to think his mom would be proud, but his memories of her were fuzzy at best except for the night she left him forever and there wasn't much he could remember of her personality, and yet Jason was sure she had sacrificed way too much for him while she still could.
Shaking his head softly, he put the apron on and got to work. He could get lost in thought when the rush hour was over.
Client by client, order by order, all done with as much precision as his hands could do. With as much precision as hands trained to kill and shoot and maim could do.
At this time of day it was mostly just regulars roaming around, getting their usuals and rarely trying something new until their stomachs decided they were tired of the same thing after two or three years, so Jason gave himself some time to think.
As much as he liked the simplicity, the somewhat routine he had going on at the Cafe, it was obvious it wouldn't last forever. Something would happen, something always happened, and it'd throw him to the floor once more.
He'd have to find another job, preferably one far away from criminals and gangs because those attracted the Bats and the Bats would probably not be happy to have to interact with him again.
His face had changed since he was fifteen, he got his last growth spurt just last year for fucks sake, but he hadn't changed that much and was surely pretty recognizable as that one Wayne kid that died a few years back.
One of the reasons he stuck with Crime Alley was because he'd heard of people who supposedly died and “came back” a few years later. It wasn't that unusual, and people from the Alley didn't ask questions when it'd possibly get them in trouble either.
Everybody knew better, everybody knew that if you disappeared and came back later you probably had a good reason to do so and getting involved was just putting yourself in the line of fire.
Besides, if you aren't on the run from Batman and work hard you pretty much already got the job. There's no space for choosing around.
It's not like he's that short of options yet, there's still a few promising places that aren't that deeply related to the crime life most people only live cause there's nothing else and they're too desperate to keep living, keep breathing for at least one more day.
The blood red helmet sat, untouched, in the safehouse Talia gave him. So did all the armour, the guns and explosives and all the weapons he had long since mastered.
That was the last option, he decided, the plan he would only put in practice in case things got much worse.
Glancing at the clock, he lets out a deep sigh at the time. His break wouldn't be due until a good fifteen minutes.
With luck, he could have a peaceful afternoon today after going home from his work at the market down the street.
Or well, maybe he could have had if Dick fucking Grayson didn't walk through the door in that same damn instant.
Locking eyes, he watched in real time as Dick opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of the water, face going as pale as a ghost's ass all while looking like he wanted to scream for some reason.
Feeling awkward under the unexpected attention of his once again stranged older brother, Jason fidgeted a little under the attention.
“… What can I get for ya today?” Dick didn't answer for a moment, blinking once, twice, three times, before looking at the list of options.
“I'll get five cupcakes and a mocha, please.” humming numbly, he packed the order by pure reflex because what the fuck, why was Dick here?! Did they know he was back in the city and were doing recon? Did they want him out? Were they trying to fuck his chances at getting employed?
Ignoring the questions flying faster than Superman in a hurry on his mind, Jason put the products on the balcony while trying hard to ignore the way Dick was looking at him.
“it’l be 22 bucks.” He cursed himself when his voice cracked slightly, and then stared in confusion when Dick simply stopped moving once their hands touched slightly while the acrobat gave him the money.
Dick looked at him in the eyes, and Jason looked right back at him, pretending he wasn't unnerved by the interaction since the beginning. Dick did not look good.
In fact, Dick fucking fainted out of goddamn nowhere.
“Holy fuck!” Jason rushed to the front after putting Dick's order back on the counter, ignoring the already starting commotion among the clients. They wouldn't do much considering… Well, this was Crime Alley he was talking about, but having people crowding was still a little distracting.
He quickly checked Dick's breathing, relieved (although he would never admit that) that CPR was not needed and therefore calling an ambulance was also not needed because if Dick was hiding an injury it'd cause way more trouble than what was worth it, and quickly followed the procedure by picking him up and taking him to a more silent corner, putting his legs up at the table and thanking whatever existed out there that his brother's shoes weren't as dirty as they used to be cause otherwise Jason's boss would surely kill him.
Carla was not someone he wanted to mess with on a daily basis. That women's ire rivalized Alfred's disappointed face closely.
Grabbing the cupcakes and the mocha from the counter and placing them in front of the acrobat's dead-to-the-world body, he went to behind the counter again and began to go back to his job.
As much as he'd love to stare at Dickhead’s unconscious face for a few minutes (got the sarcasm?) he still needed to save money for when he went to college next year, when all he'd be able to pick would be part time jobs and only for one turn. At least now he could pick two at the same time, three if he noticed money was going low or something.
And again, he did not need Carla's fury on him today. He almost pitied Jeffrey when the guy got fired last month, but he was an asshole anyways so the thought got dismissed as soon as it came up on his mind.
Attending some more clients that came in, he refused to admit to himself that yes, he was watching Dick's slumped form closely. He watched as the man slowly woke up confused, looking around after confirming that no, he had not been kidnapped (Jason had received the same instructions while training with Bruce) and staring at the cupcakes in front of him like they had been summoned by the devil.
And then they locked eyes again, briefly and almost fast enough to actually notice something, and the acrobat looked sick.
Dick slowly got up, walking to the counter seemingly calm but Jason knew better. Dick was not calm, he was… hopeful?
What.
The fuck.
“Jason?” He asked, almost hesitantly. Almost afraid. But that couldn't be it, Dick was never hesitant nor afraid. Not, it must have been something else, surely.
“Uh, yeah? You good after… y'know. Fainting and all that.” Okay, this was weird. This was weird as fuck.
“Yes.” The man's blank expression was honestly scary. What the hell. What was going on?
With no more words, the acrobat picked his order from the table Jason had put him on and left, leaving him to just… stare at his back in pure confusion.
Glancing at the clock again, the relief he normally felt at finally getting a break was nonexistent. He didn't hesitate to get out and light up a cigarette at the back of the building.
His thoughts were a mess, a complete cacophony of questions with no answers and static noises.
God, he needed to-
“Jason.” Only years of training kept him from flinching at the voice, looking at his brother's face and wondering how the fuck had he not heard him getting closer.
Even more years of training kept him from grabbing one of his hidden blades and stabbing in pure reflex.
“What the fuck, Dickhead?! Wanna give me a heart attack or something?” He asked, taking a deep drag out of the cheap cigarette. Damn, this shit was as bad as he remembered.
Slightly nostalgic.
“... Jason, WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!” Unfazed by the screaming, he admittedd being more surprised by the question than by the rising voice.
When you grow up with people screaming so much around you some things tend to become numb, somehow.
“What are you talking about?” Oh, that was thee wrong thing to say. Dick looked mad now.
“What am I talking about? WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT?! YOU'RE FUCKING BACK!” Oh, so that's what this is about.
He could've had just started with that, damn.
“Uh, yeah? I mean, I didn't felt like staying with Talia anymore. Things got a little crazy there.” Just thinking about it gave him a headache. At least Ra's wouldn't put a foot in Gotham, thank fuck.
“What.”
“Well, it's more of a ‘I didn't want to be an assassin anymore and Ra’s didn't like me there anyways so I had to run away’ kind of thing but like, I can just stay out of your hair y'know?”
“Ra’s as in… the League of Assassins Ra’s?” Dick's voice sounded… weird. He ignored that, surely wasn't important.
“Yeah, duh. Who else would it be? Did you hit your head too hard or something?” Maybe passing out had worsen some kind of concussion, but he was too far away to check Dick's eyes and getting closer was absolutely not an option at the moment.
“... For how long?”
“For how long what?”
“For how long have you been back?” … Yep, definitely a concussion. Probably a nasty one. Or maybe Dick had some sort of memory loss and just didn't remember what happened to Jason?
“It's been five years, you moron.” Did Dick have amnesia? Should he call Bruce? The man normally had contingency plans for his contingency plans, he would know what to do with an amnesiac vigilante. ”You already knew about that, Dickhead, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You need to come with me.” Great, Dick was having ideas. Nothing good ever came from that.
Like that one time he decided to do a backflip to get down from the fridge.
“Wait, what?”
“You need to come with me. To the manor.” Yeah, no. Not happening.
“I'm not going to the manor with you!”
“Little Wing, please!”
“I'm working, fuck off.”
“Just say you had a family emergency!” As if it was so simple.
“This is not a family emergency and I am not going with you! If Bruce wanted me back he should have said so when I crawled out of my grave.”
“Yes, this is! Jason, please, we didn't even know you were back!” He briefly entertained the thought of giving up and just punching Dick cause he felt like punching something and Dick's face looked, indeed, very punchable.
And no, this was not the Pit talking, thank you very much.
“Bullshit! Of course you knew!” The audacity to lie to his face was honestly making him a little histerical.
“No, we didn't! Come on, Jay, we need to talk about this!”
“Fine! Damnit, at least let me finish my shift, asshole.” Jason gave in, if only because he was hoping Dick would have dropped and forgotten about… whatever the fuck he wanted with him, honestly.
Without waiting for an answer he discarded his shitty cigarette, going back inside.
Surely, Dick wouldn't stick around for so long. Jason still had 2 hours left to his shift and his brother was never one to stay in one place for too long anyways.
He would surely not wait for Jason.