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Regret

Summary:

“I need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“If I die before you, don’t let them try and bring me back. Make sure I’m cremated, even if you have to steal my body and do it yourself.”

“Jay-”

“No, Dickie. I can’t- I don’t want to come back again. Please.”

“Okay. I promise. On one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You do the same for me if I die first this time.”

“Deal.”

***
Dick dies as a civilian and the others want to bring him back against his wishes. Jason takes matters into his own hands but he's not exactly expecting what happens next.

Notes:

This is my last post for a little while as I'm going off the grid on a research trip. When I get back, I'll be posting the companion pieces to Things that I want and a new multichapter fic.

The title is a New Order song that I think fits Jason perfectly, so go check it out!

I hope you like this!!

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

Work Text:

“I need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“If I die before you, don’t let them try and bring me back. Make sure I’m cremated, even if you have to steal my body and do it yourself.”

“Jay-”

“No, Dickie. I can’t- I don’t want to come back again. Please.”

“Okay. I promise. On one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You do the same for me if I die first this time.”

“Deal.”

 


 

Jason’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking as he walked into the cave. He’d heard on the news; not one of them had even bothered to call him even though they all at least had his comm frequency, if not his mobile number. 

With the exception of Duke, Steph and Alfred, the entire family were standing around the planning table in the cave. As Jason approached he caught several buzzwords that made his blood boil; Lazurus pit, Darkseid, Apokolips

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” They all turned around at the sound of his voice and Tim at least had the common sense to look uncomfortable. “I know damn well he put it in writing that he didn’t want to be brought back, so I damn well hope this conversation isn’t about him, especially because he was Dick Grayson when it happened and not Nightwing!”

Maybe shouting wasn’t the way to go, but Jason had barely had time to process the information and he refused to break down in the cave, which meant it was easier to bury his feelings under his anger until he was alone again. And as far as he was aware, none of the others knew about that fact he and Dick had been seeing each other for months. Hell, they’d even roped Roy in to keep Babs’ tech at bay because neither of them wanted Bruce butting into their personal lives. 

“Nightwing is a pillar of the superhero community and the work he does to help people supersedes his wishes.” Bruce said, almost robotically. 

Jason scoffed. “That’s bullshit. If any of you gave a shit about him you’d do what he wanted.”

“Richard is more important than mere wants.” Damian said sharply. 

“Nightwing has not updated his will for four years, therefore we are working on the assumption that he changed his mind and the original amendment was made in the aftermath of speaking to you, on a whim.” Bruce said, turning back to the table. Babs and Tim had yet to actually look at Jason. 

“On a whim…” Jason muttered thinking back to that conversation they’d had on the roof and how often he’d asked Dick if their deal was still standing in the following years. “You know I thought he was different. I thought he was the one you’d actually be able to put your crusade aside for. But you literally only care about what he can do to further it, don’t you?”

“If you have nothing productive to add to this conversation, Hood, you are no longer welcome.” Bruce said. 

Jason laughed, if only to try and stop himself from crying. “I hope every single one of you will regret this for the rest of your life.”

He turned and walked back up the stairs before any of them could reply.

 


 

Jason chewed his lip as his finger hovered over the call button for what felt like the hundredth time. The phone had been a gift, completely untraceable by anyone, including Babs, and there was only one number programmed into it. He took a deep breath before biting the bullet and hitting call. It rang and rang and just as he was about to give up, the line clicked. 

What’s up, kid? ” Slade’s voice was modulated in the way that told Jason he was wearing his helmet. 

“The favour you owe me from Louisiana, I’m calling it in. How soon can you be in Gotham?” Jason said as he paced back and forth in front of his sofa.

Slade grunted and there was a pause in which Jason was pretty sure he heard gunshots. “ If I get this wrapped up, I can be there tomorrow. What exactly do you want me to do for you? ” 

Jason took a deep breath. “I need you to steal a body.” 

There was a long pause on the other end. “ I don’t know why that surprises me. Who’s body could you possibly want to steal, kid?

“Dick’s.”

Shit. ” Slade muttered, barely concealing the sound of more gunshots. “ Give me five minutes, Jase. I’ll call you back.

“Okay.” Jason said, and only then did Slade hang up. 

His relationship with Slade had been nothing more than a fling, long before he’d started seeing Dick. But he knew the mercenary had a soft spot for him, in fact, it had been Slade that had convinced him to get over himself and have an actual conversation with Dick outside of their masks. 

He didn’t hesitate to hit the accept button when his phone rang again. 

Alright, kid, talk to me. ” 

“It was an accident, he wasn't even in the mask. They didn’t even bother to tell me. I had to find out on the news.” His voice cracked. “We promised each other that we wouldn’t let them bring us back. He even wrote it down in the goddamn batcomputer. None of them are listening to him, they’re still going to try. I can’t-”

Hey, Jase, it’s okay. Just breathe for me, alright. ” Slade’s voice lacked the modulation. “ I’ll be in the city by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll make the necessary arrangements on my end and let you know. You should do the same.

“Okay.” Jason whispered. 

We’ll handle this, kid. I promise he’ll get what he wanted. ” 

Jason blinked back the tears that had been trying to fall for the last four hours. “Slade, thank you.” 

You don’t need to thank me, Jase. I’ll see you tomorrow. Any issues before then, call Wintergreen. ” 

“I will, see you then.” Jason hung up.

 


 

Jason spent the rest of the night and a good chunk of the next day shutting down what was left of Red Hood’s operation in Gotham. His time with the Outlaws meant he’d implemented failsafes in everything he still controlled so that they could be shut down at a moments notice. Luckily, because Jason Todd was still legally dead, he only had his safehouses to wrap up for himself. 

He knew he couldn’t return to Gotham after carrying out his plan. Not only would the rest of the family probably be out for his blood once and for all (and with no Dick to intercede, they’d probably settle for nothing less than Arkham), but without the familiar black and blue flying through the sky every few weeks, there wasn’t anything left for him in Gotham. The city had finally taken the last person he truly loved and maybe loved him back, so he was done with her.  

Slade shot him a message when he landed and they spent over an hour on the phone going over the details. Jason knew he was being watched, so he would leave Gotham before Slade broke into the mortuary and the Bats would hopefully be too busy watching his every move to pay attention to Slade. They arranged a rendezvous point just outside New York with minimal surveillance. 

So, all that was left was for Jason to pack his bag, get in his car and start driving. But the moment he tried, he found himself staring at Dick’s drawer in his dresser. He’d raided Dick’s room at the manor before he left the day before and grabbed a few things he thought Dick would want to go with him; Zitka, photos of his friends, family, and parents, and the journal he started writing after Spyral that Jason knew he wouldn’t want anyone else to read. Those things were easy, but the drawer full of his clothes, clothes they often shared rather than kept to themselves, that was what finally caused him to lose it. 

When he came back to himself, the room was a mess; furniture shattered, glass all over and clothes strewn around. It was almost too easy to detach himself and pick up the things he needed from in amongst the wreckage. 

 


 

Jason watched as Slade pulled the car into the garage and climbed out. It was a boring looking black honda civic, but Jason knew it was most likely not the first car Slade had used tonight. 

“They see you?” He asked as Slade approached him. 

Slade shook his head. “We’ve probably got another hour before they realise there’s an issue.”

“Good.” Jason said, and before he knew what was happening, Slade pulled him into an almost bone-crushing embrace. He sagged into it, letting go just for a moment. “I miss him.”

“I know, kid. But you’re the only one doing right by him, so I know he’d be proud of you.” Slade said as he pushed him back and cupped his jaw with one hand to make him look at him. “You need me after this is done, I’ll be there, Jase.”

“Thank you.” Jason said softly, not sure how to put his gratitude into words. He took a deep breath and turned his attention back to Slade’s car. “Let’s get this over with.”

Slade studied him for a moment further before pulling away and walking to the trunk of the car. He looked at Jason for confirmation and when he nodded, pulled the trunk open. The black body bag didn’t give anything away. 

“You want to check?” Slade asked.

Jason gave him an incredulous look. “I’d hope you knew what he looked like considering you’ve known him since he was about twelve years old.”

Slade shrugged and, with more care than Jason was expecting, lifted the bag out of the trunk. Jason moved to his own car and pulled the trunk open so Slade could set the bag inside. He’d rigged a temporary refrigeration system that engaged when the lid was shut, so he wouldn’t have to worry until he got to the spot he’d picked in Tennessee.

“You’re heading west, so I’ll keep heading south. I can probably buy you a day or two before they realise I don’t have him.” Slade said as Jason shut the trunk. “You need anything, you call Wintergreen. He knows enough to get whatever you need to you.”

Jason nodded and walked to the driver's door. 

“Stay safe, kid.”

“You too, old man.”

 


 

It was a ten hour drive to the spot Jason had picked and the sun started rising around the fourth hour. He stopped to grab a coffee and a bundle of firewood, never letting the car out of his sight. He briefly wondered how Slade was getting on, how far the Bats were behind him. Slade was good at disappearing, so Jason knew he’d be leaving breadcrumbs that only Babs would be able to see to make sure they were following him and ignoring Jason. 

He drank his coffee leaning against the trunk of his car, trying not to think about what (who) was inside. When he’d finished, he started driving again, mainly sticking to back roads. He stopped three more times while on the road, picking up another bundle of firewood each time and grabbing a sandwich for lunch at the last stop. He pulled into the small town just after one in the afternoon. 

The first thing he did was book a room at the nearby motel and paid in cash. The town was tiny, so there was only one motel and one diner right across the road from it. Luckily there was a hardware store in town where he was able to grab the rest of the wood he needed as well as some firelighters and kindling. With that done, he climbed back in the car and started driving again.  

The town itself was pretty rural, but it was also on the edge of a decent sized forest that bordered a lake. They’d had a conversation once, laid together in bed with their legs tangled and the early morning sunlight just starting to filter through the curtains. Dick had told him about the times the circus had set up on the outskirts of Milwaulkee, on the shore of Lake Michigan and how much he missed playing in the water with his parents. Gotham Bay was so polluted no one let their kids near it, so Jason couldn’t relate. But hearing Dick talk about it, and seeing the way his eyes lit up with remembered happiness, had made Jason wish he could.

He’d considered driving to that spot on the outskirts of Milwaukee, but had ultimately decided against it on the off chance Dick had told one of the other Bats that story. But Jason still wanted to give him the water, so he’d pulled out a map and chose a small lake in Tennessee that was within reasonable driving distance, but still far enough away that he had time to do what he needed to do even if the Bats didn’t take Slade’s bait. 

He drove until he ran out of road and then kept driving down what looked like an offroad track. Eventually that stopped too, but by then he could see the blue of the water glittering in the afternoon sun. 

It took three trips to move the wood from the back seat to the edge of the water. Three days ago, Jason had no idea how to properly build a pyre, now he’d read pretty much everything he could about how to build one to burn effectively, but not too quickly. The repetitive motion of assembling everything finally started to quiet the part of his mind that had been screaming at him for the past two days and let the nervous energy drain from his muscles. 

By the time he’d added the kindling and spaced out the firelighters, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. He made the final preparations, making sure the ground around the pyre wasn’t going to catch and start a forest fire.

He hesitated before opening the trunk. He wasn’t ready to let go, but he knew the longer he lingered, the more likely it would be that someone would arrive to stop him. 

He threw open the trunk and gently lifted the body bag out before he could think about it too much. He resolutely ignored the coldness and rigidity as he walked over to the pyre and gently set the bag down in the grass. He laid the white sheet out parallel to the bag and then took another deep, steadying breath before unzipping the bag. 

Jason grimaced, not because there was a smell, the refrigeration had made sure there wouldn’t be one, but because Dick’s usually golden skin looked almost grey. At least there wasn’t an autopsy scar, but Jason knew that was due to the very obvious cause of death being the gunshot wound in Dick’s abdomen that had been neatly stitched shut by the mortician. 

He shifted Dick onto the white sheet as clinically as possible before wrapping it loosely around him. He hooked his arms back under Dick’s body and then stood from the floor before making his way to the edge of the pyre. He pressed his lips against where Dick’s forehead was under the sheet. 

“I love you, pretty bird.” He screwed his eyes shut and took another deep breath, and only then did he set Dick on the middle of the pyre. 

There was no point dallying now, so he grabbed his lighter and set light to each of the firelighters he’d placed in each corner. He watched the fire catch the kindling and begin working at the larger logs when he remembered the bag of Dick’s belongings he’d left in the car. He jogged over and was reaching into the back seat to grab it when he heard the wood creaking. 

It took a moment for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing as he turned back around. Because the white sheet was moving. All Jason could do was watch with mounting horror as the sheet shifted enough for it and its occupant to fall off the side of the pyre. Jason had seen far too many horror movies, so he grabbed his gun from the glovebox before taking cautious steps forward. 

The closer he got, the clearer the muffled swearing became as Dick’s corpse tried to escape the sheet. 

“What the fuck?” Was the first thing Dick said as his head finally made it out of the sheet and he caught sight of the growing flames on the pyre. 

Jason froze again, gun half raised in case he had to put a bullet in zombie Dick. But Dick looked normal, confused and ruffled, but normal . His skin had lost the sickly grey pallor and apparently the rigour mortis had just disappeared. A flash of terror and crippling darkness before breaking through the surface in the rain flashed through Jason’s memory. But no, it couldn’t matter that the only apparent similarity between these two events was Jason .

“Holy fuck, maybe I’m the reason this keeps happening.” He muttered as his legs gave out and he sat down hard. 

Dick’s head whipped around to look at him, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Jay, what’s going on?”

For the first time since he’d seen the news on the TV, Jason started crying. He buried his face in his knees as the sobs racked through his body as the gun thudded to the ground. 

“Jay? Little Wing? What’s wrong?” Dick sounded worried. “What the fuck?” That was less worried and Jason wondered if Dick had discovered the gunshot wound or the fact he was completely naked beneath the sheet. 

It took Jason a solid minute to wrestle control of his sobs as he listened to Dick shuffling around with the occasional ouch that told Jason he was prodding his stitches. But Jason kept his head between his knees until Dick shuffled over and came to a stop right in front of him. 

“You were dead.” Jason croaked out as he blinked the last few tears out of his eyes to find Dick watching him with worry. 

Dick opened and closed his mouth several times before any sound managed to come out. “I was- What?” 

Jason couldn’t help but laugh. “Dead, Dickie. You were dead or did the bullet hole in your stomach and the pyre not clue you in?”

Dick opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by his stomach making a loud gurgling noise. 

“I booked a motel room. Why don’t we head back there, clean up, grab some food and then have this conversation?” Jason said. 

“Okay.”

 


 

Neither of them spoke on the drive back into town. Dick had wrapped himself in the sheet and Jason realised halfway through the drive that he probably should have offered him the hoodie on the back seat. Dick didn’t seem to care though, even when he had to climb out of the car at the motel. Luckily, because it was dark, not many people were paying attention anyway. 

Jason grabbed the bag and hoodie out of the backseat before unlocking the door and letting Dick walk in first. He threw the bag and hoodie down next to his duffle that was already on the bed as Dick looked around the room. 

“Why don’t you grab a shower and I’ll go grab us some burgers from the diner over the street?” Jason said, running a hand through his curls. 

Dick nodded. “Okay.”

Jason nodded back and they stood and stared at each other for several beats before Jason slapped his pocket to make sure he had his wallet and walked out. He stood and took a deep breath as the door shut behind him. He had no idea what he was doing. He’d prepared for many scenarios when planning this endeavour, but somehow, Dick coming back from the dead with no intervention Jason-style was not one of them. Maybe he was the issue. Maybe whatever dragged him back to life was somehow tied to him and if he spent too much time around a corpse he’d accidentally resurrect them. 

But that seemed far fetched, even with everything they’d seen. 

He blew out the breath through his nose before walking across the road and pushing open the door to the old-timey diner. 

“Eat in or take away?” The very tired looking hostess asked with a small smile. 

“Take away.” Jason said, trying to match her smile but knowing he probably looked as tired as she did. 

“Sure thing, I’ll ring you up at the till and then you’ll pick up your order over there.” She pointed to the collection point as she led him over to the till. “It’ll be between fifteen and twenty-five minutes depending on what you order.”

Jason nodded and skimmed the menu. “Can I get two bacon cheeseburgers, two large fries and a strawberry milkshake, please?” 

“Sure, that’ll be-” 

“Keep the change.” Jason slid a fifty across the counter and started walking towards the collection point before she could protest. 

He leant back against the wall and scanned the people sitting in the bright red booths. There was a family in the nearest one, the dad trying to stop their toddler from covering herself in ketchup as the mom tried to distract her with some fries. There were several people on their own in the middle booths, one of whom seemed to be having a frustrating phone conversation based on how his head was buried in his free hand and he was ignoring his food. Finally, in the last booth in the corner, there was an old couple both sitting on the same side and sharing what looked like a banana milkshake based on the slightly yellow colour. They were huddled together and whispering like they were teenagers, and based on the age of the diner, Jason was willing to bet that they had been sitting in that back booth sharing banana milkshakes since they were teenagers. 

Jason's heart skipped a beat in his chest as he realised that’s what he wanted. He thought the romantic in him had died and never managed to claw its way out of his grave with the rest of him. But as he looked at the old couple giggling together like they probably had been for years, his thoughts jumped straight to the person waiting for him in that shitty little motel room over the road and he realised he wanted what the couple had. 

“There you go, kid.” The cook’s gruff voice pulled Jason out of his thoughts and he took the held out brown paper bag with a muttered thanks. 

He didn’t waste anymore time on his thoughts, just crossed across the street and unlocked the flimsy door while balancing the bag in one arm. 

Dick was sitting on the bed with damp hair wearing one of Jason’s t-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. The bag of Dick’s belongings was open next to him, the photos were spread across the bed in front of him but he was holding Zitka gently in his hands as his thumbs smoothed through her faux fur. 

Dick looked up as Jason walked in and Jason could see the question he was preparing to speak in his eyes, so he cut him off before he could. “Food first. I’m not having this conversation on an empty stomach.”

“Okay.” Dick said softly as he gathered the photos up and set them and Zitka to the side. He patted the space next to him on the bed but Jason instead chose to sit on the floor and lean back against the bed. Dick huffed, but then slid down onto the floor as well. 

Jason handed him one of the burgers and a bag of fries along with the milkshake before unwrapping and taking a bite of his own burger. Dick ate like a man starving, but Jason realised he probably was after nearly four days of being legally dead. Dick finished all his food way before Jason and spent the time it took Jason to catch up fidgeting like he did whenever he wanted answers. 

Jason finished the last of his fries and sighed as he packed all the wrappers into the original bag. “What do you remember?”

“The pain, the amount of blood and thinking I wasn’t going to make it. And then it felt like- like I was-” Dick cut off clearly trying to find the right word. 

“Like you were floating, the pain gone.” Jason whispered, unable to voice that particular thought any louder. 

Dick turned and stared at him. “Yeah, yeah, it felt exactly like that.”

“Not one of them bothered to call and tell me. Not one of our so-called fucking family. I had to find out from the news and when I got to the cave, all of them apart from Duke, Steph and Alfred were standing around discussing how best to bring you back, even after having read what you wrote on the computer.” Jason’s voice cracked and he buried his fingers in his curls, trying not to let his anger tinge his vision green. 

“I- they were grieving, they probably didn’t look.” Dick’s voice fell flat. 

Jason resisted the urge to laugh because it was so like Dick Grayson to defend people who would never do the same for him. “Do you know what Bruce said to me when I pointed out you didn’t want to be brought back? He told me your duty ‘supersedes your wishes’ and that you’d only written what you had ‘on a whim’ after a conversation with me. Not one of them gave a shit about what you wanted. Not Bruce, not Babs, not Cass and not even Tim or Damian. Every single one of them was willing to put their wants and needs above yours. That’s why they didn’t invite me and Steph and Alfred and Duke to their little get together, because they knew damn well that we would . That there was no way in hell any of us would let them go through with it.”

It was only at the end of his rant that he looked up to find tears streaming down Dick’s face and realised that they were also running down his own cheeks again too. 

“They-they were grieving, people do stupid things when they’re grieving.” Dick tried to rationalise.

Jason couldn’t help but snort, wondering if he should ask Dick if calling in a favour with Slade to steal his body before driving to a town in the middle of nowhere and building a pyre counted as stupid. 

“We should- we should start heading back, they’re all probably freaking out.” Dick carried on in the mildly frantic way that Jason knew meant he was bordering on the edge of a panic attack. 

“I’m not going back.”

Dick whirled around to face him, blue eyes startlingly wide as more tears slipped down his cheeks.

“I’m never going back to Gotham, Dickie. I burned my last bridges doing what I did. I tied up all my loose ends as Red Hood.” Jason said softly as he pushed himself up off the floor. 

“No.” Dick’s voice was wet as he choked back a sob. 

Jason closed the gap between them and cupped Dick’s face in his palms. “Come with me. You always said you missed travelling, we can go anywhere, be anyone, no one’s going to be looking for us, Bluebird. Perks of being legally dead and all.”

“The others-”

“Think you’re dead and I burned the body. I’m tired of watching you burn yourself to the ground for people who won’t give you the same in return. We did our time and died for the cause, no one can ask anymore of us. So, I’m asking you to run away with me.” Jason said as he swiped away the tears from Dick’s face. 

“Little Wing.” 

“I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I can’t do that in Gotham. Come with me, please.” Jason confessed.

Dick blinked up at him before he surged forward and kissed him. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Ten years later.

 

Alfred expertly weaved his way through the crowds of people that were almost always swarming Piccadilly Circus as he headed in the direction of Green Park. About halfway down Piccadilly there was a church that happened to have a small garden and a coffee shop nestled in its side. The coffee shop had been part of a nationwide chain for many years, but now it was part of a small group that gave prison leavers the opportunity and skills they needed to start a career as a barista. They also served a damn good cup of coffee. 

Alfred ordered his usual and took his usual seat outside once it was ready. The cold was starting to settle in, so there were only a few other people sitting outside. Alfred liked the small oasis of peace in the centre of London, but he couldn’t quite help but look at the chair across from him and wish one of two black haired, blue eyed boys might be sitting across from him. 

He had handed his resignation in to Bruce and left Gotham on the sixth anniversary of Richard’s death. Things hadn’t been the same since, and he, Duke and Stephanie had never quite been able to forgive what the others had tried to do, which only succeeded in driving Jason away. As far as Alfred was concerned, Jason made the right call. But he’d stayed in Gotham to deal with the following fallout; Bruce’s anger, Damian’s refusal to grieve and Timothy’s silent regret. Stephanie had barely lasted the year before moving to New York, and with Stephanie gone, Cassandra moved back to Hong Kong on a more permanent basis. Duke left for college on the west coast and Timothy started spending more time with the Titans, which left Alfred with two Wayne men who refused to own up to their mistakes. In the end, it had been too much and Alfred decided, with one last look at Thomas and Martha’s portrait, that it was time to retire; there was nothing more he had to give to the boy he raised. He trusted Barbara to at least make sure neither of them got themselves killed.

After spending so much time in the chaos that was Gotham city, moving to the outskirts of London seemed like the logical choice. He had the peace that reminded him of Wayne Manor while at home, but he could escape into the bustle of the city when he wanted to as well. It also helped that London had been the target of far fewer attempted city takeovers than almost every American city.

Alfred spent most of his time reading and volunteering with the local scouts, but every wednesday he made the trip into the city to wander through busy streets before sitting down to drink his coffee and people watch. 

But as he watched a young man nervously approach with a bag in his hand, he felt the familiar paranoia creep in that maybe he should have altered his schedule to not be as predictable. 

“Um, hi, Mr Pennyworth? A guy who called himself your grandson paid me thirty quid to bring this to you.” The young man said as he held out a very familiar looking dark green bag with gold lettering. 

Nostalgia and hope settled in Alfred’s chest as he reached out and took the bag. “Thank you.”

The young man nodded before speed walking off, presumably before his boss noticed him missing from the shop. 

Hatchards on Piccadilly was the oldest bookshop in the UK and was the place to go for first and rare editions of a wide range of books. Alfred had made a habit of popping in to see what they had on offer almost every time he was in London from when he was in his early twenties. But he had never actually made a purchase until the trip before Jason’s fifteenth birthday when he hadn’t been able to resist buying a first edition of the blue peacock cover of Pride and Prejudice. The look on Jason’s face when he opened the dark green bag with gold lettering had been a memory Alfred had relied on during the years when they all believed Jason was dead. 

Alfred sat the bag on the chair next to him and pulled out a white envelope that was tucked into itself rather than stuck down. But it was the handwriting and the nickname on the front that caused his breath to catch in his throat; Alfie .

He took a breath to steady himself before he opened the envelope and unfolded the handwritten paper. 

 

Hey Alfie, 

I guess I should start by saying I’m sorry it took this long to reach out, but I had to be careful that there would be no Bat-related intervention. I’m sure you all figured it out pretty quickly that Slade stole Dick’s body for me. Slade owed me a favour and I owed it to Dick to keep my promise, so I’m not sorry for what I did. 

But things didn’t exactly go as planned. 

I mean, I had everything set up, I even built a goddamn pyre and set it alight. But Dick apparently wasn’t done with this world. We still don’t know how or why, but he woke up, Alfie, he woke up like I did.

 

Alfred sucked in a breath and used a lifetime of control to make sure he didn’t break down while in public.

 

I was never planning to go back to Gotham, I’d wrapped up everything I needed to before I left. I’d planned for every outcome for what I was going to do, but I never planned on him coming back like I did. I wanted to run, to get as far away from it all as I could and once I told him what the others had tried to do, how they’d ignored his wishes, I asked him to come with me and he agreed. 

We spend a lot of time travelling, but we have found somewhere to call home. I hope you’ll forgive me for not saying where, I know you won’t tell the others, but I can’t risk our life now, not for anything. For the first time in a long time, I’m happy and I can tell from the look in his eyes that Dick is too. But I know you, Duke and Steph stood by what Dick wanted, so I needed all three of you to know that he’s here with me and we’re both doing better than okay. Maybe one day we’ll be able to meet in person without the shadow that still looms over all of us, but I hope this is enough for now. 

Thank you, for everything you ever did for me. You’re the best grandfather I could have asked for (even if you refused to let me call you that in person). 

Love, 

Jason. 

 

P.S. Dick says he’s left a surprise in the book. 

 

Alfred reread the letter twice before carefully folding it back up and slotting it back into the envelope. He slid it back into the bag before he pulled out the book. It was a first edition of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None. He couldn’t help but remember when Jason had come to him after his first few weeks at the manor and asked if he could recommend any books in the library. Alfred had always had a soft spot for Agatha Christie that he had inherited from his mother, but And Then There Were None was the only one Jason ever managed to lose himself in. 

All these years later, Alfred was glad of the reminder. 

He opened the front cover gently and picked up the photo that had been slotted in with a shaky hand. 

It showed Dick tucked into Jason’s side, neither of them looking at the camera as they smiled at each other. They were both wearing white shirts and flower crowns; Jason’s made of reds and Dick’s of blue. They looked happier than Alfred had ever seen them. He flipped the photo over to find Dick’s familiar handwriting this time spelling out a date several years prior and two words; Gretna Green

Alfred knew Dick and Jason had never been brothers, no matter how much Bruce insisted. He was sure he’d been the only one who had noticed how close they’d been getting before what had happened. He flipped the photo back over and the sight of a gold band shining on Dick’s ring finger was enough to finally let the tears escape his eyes. He dabbed them away with his handkerchief before finishing his coffee.

He tucked the photo and the letter back into the book and replaced it in the bag. He couldn’t keep the small smile off his face as he walked out into the bustling crowd once again; knowing Jason (and by extension now, Dick) was happy was the last weight off his shoulders, and even if he never saw either of them again, he could die happy now. 

Notes:

The coffee shop and the church are both actual places I love to visit whenever I'm in London, and if you're a bibliophile, I cannot recommend visiting Hatchards enough if you're ever in London. They did actually have a first edition of the blue peacock cover when I visited at the beginning of the year, along with a signed Virginia Woolf I had to physically stop myself from buying.

 

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