Catch My Breath

Chapter 7

Dick is heavy. Even heavier than the last time he fell on Jason and nearly broke his spine. Granted he'd been supporting himself at the time so Jason hadn't been holding all his dead weight, but still.

Dick is fucking heavy.

The gravity of the gaze behind Jason isn't helping matters. Alfred steers him to Dick's room. Aside from his initial shock and the fact that he's obviously displeased with the situation, the butler has been surprisingly quiet. His eyes are deceptively blank. Dark and unmoving, the commands he gives to Jason are brief and crisp. He doesn't look angry, but Jason knows better. Just because there's no physical indication of a glare doesn't mean the intent isn't there. Alfred's not happy, not at all.

Jason's just waiting for Bruce to pop out at any given second. That would be the cherry on his fuck all sundae of a night.

It's odd, really odd, that Bruce hasn't made his appearance yet. No way would he be okay with this, not in his current mood. Alfred should have gone running to him already, at first sight actually, so it's pretty strange that he hasn't. At least not yet. Jason's not holding his breath that the old man isn't biding his time. Never mind the fact that Dick kissed him first. That detail probably wasn't as important as Jason's response. Which should have been to push him off like he was a made of fire, but obviously wasn't.

Shit, was it his fault he hadn't been kissed like that in ages?

Maybe Roy was right. He needed to get laid, bad. Especially if he was getting hard for a guy, even one as attractive as Dick, from just one kiss. A more than likely drug induced kiss, at that.

He decides even as he tries not to look over at the body draped around his shoulder, no, this is not his fault. He wasn't playing the bad guy this time. Dick kissed him dammit.

Alfred remains tight-lipped and stoic as they draw closer to the room. Jason recalls the area and realizes it's right next to the room he stayed in the night before. The hallway seems impossibly long for just a couple of rooms, but it's definitely the same one.

Alfred moves ahead to open the door with all the grandiose of the perfect butler, offering his hand at Jason to enter first. It's a little too perfect and Jason doesn't buy the act.

If given the chance, Alfred would probably send him flying out the nearest window.

Assuming he was willing to clean up the mess afterwards.

The room is big, big as anything else in the manor, and only slightly what he expects. It's not particularity neat for one and judging by Alfred's face this isn't something he approves of. It's not a wreck or anything remotely close to what he'd consider unlivable, Jason just kind of figured Dick would be a neat freak. This doesn't seem the case. He sidesteps something on the floor, something he can't even recognize in the dim light and steps further into the room. Alfred snaps the lamp on, things illuminate and what the man sees doesn't please him.

Alfred makes a sound in his throat and begins to retrieve the closest items to him, various articles of clothing, while pointing Jason to the bed. He continues to move, compulsively cleaning what he can. His lips aren't quite open, but Jason swears he's talking to himself. More like grumbling while still sounding way too proper. Jason leaves him to it, not one to get between a man and his cleaning. He's certainly not offering help, not that Alfred would probably let him touch anything.

The bed is perfectly made, corners tucked and pinned with precision, still pristine. He's gonna guess it's not Dick' handiwork based on the stuff carelessly thrown on the floor. Dick falls on the bed with no amount of grace and Jason almost cringes at the sound of his body hitting, not that he wasn't trying to be gentle. He turns and sees Alfred staring at him, arms crowded and mouth thin. Jason feels his shoulder rise in a half shrug and tries not look too guilty.

Alfred continues a gaze that could probably melt through steel and cuts Jason to the quick. The eyes move from his crowded arms, down to Dick and finally back to Jason. Alfred gives a sigh. "I trust you can behave yourself while I attend to some things."

If that's not the the biggest threat laced in decorum he's ever head, Jason doesn't want to know. The tone isn't even past a wink of annoyance or anger, perfectly level, civil. And yet it's not.

That's what really pisses him off. He motions with a single hand. "I'm not going to jump him." A bit blunt, but he's a little tired of the implication, spoken or not from the old man. He's not a molester.

Alfred holds his own hand, still just as calm. "It's not my place to judge Master Dick's tendencies. I only ask that you not feed into them in his current condition."

"I wasn't.." Jesus, now he does feel like a molester. He shakes his head, no that's not fair. "..I'm not going to do anything. You don't have to worry."

Alfred isn't moved, he seems even more uncertain. "I could call for Master Tim if you prefer.."

"No." Jason almost chokes. Way too much explaining and awkwardness dealing with Tim at this point. "It's okay." He assures. "I'll watch him till he wakes up, make sure he doesn't.." doesn't do what exactly? "..that he's okay."

Alfred nods, but it's slightly hesitant. "If you need any assistance, you may push the house button on the phone."

"I think I'll be okay.." Alfred raises a brow. "But, I'll keep it in mind." He rushes.

Alfred gives another nod and looks meaningfully back before he leaves. As soon as the door closes, Jason breathes a sigh of relief. "Dodged the bullet." He mumbles to himself. His eyes fall to the unconscious form "Great." He adds. "Now I get to talk to myself for the next few hours." He turns to Dick. "This is all your fault."

It's about twenty minuets later as he studies the outline of Dick's back to the point he could sketch it in the dark, propped in a chair and losing the feeling in his legs, that he realizes that he's going to ram his head into the nearest wall if he doesn't do something soon. He stretches, back sore from being in the same position for so long, and decides it wouldn't hurt to look around. Not that it's all that important, but he might want to know more about Dick than just the taste of his mouth.

He definitely needs a distraction to that.

Anything really.

There's a few things, things that definitely stand out to him, now that he takes a second look. The room may be slightly messy, but it's got enough of Alfred's touch to look taken care of. It's the trinkets, pictures and such, that show more of Dick's brighter personality. Images scattered throughout, some framed, others not, all seem tenderly placed in areas that would otherwise be bare, lifeless. It brings a humanity to the room. Jason can't say such things interest him because normally they don't, but for whatever reason he takes a closer look.

The first picture that grabs him is the cliché, almost mandatory, family portrait that looks straight from some kind of magazine. Not just because the men in it are way too perfect looking, but because the setup is so stuffy and staged it's almost funny. Dick makes the most of it, looking the most human next to a stoic Bruce and only slightly less stone like Tim. Too pristine to be real, Jason doesn't envy the guy who had to take it..assuming it wasn't Alfred. It's a few years old as Dick looks slightly younger and Tim's even smaller, Bruce eerily looks the same.

No matter which picture Jason's eyes turn to there's one theme that seems true no matter how he tries to deny it, Dick is a spot light stealer. He might not mean to be, but it's pretty obvious the guy knows how to take a picture. It's hard to notice anything else around him or maybe it's just Jason, but Dick radiates something he can't quite explain. It's the whole good guy, perfect son and fun older brother thing that Jason normally finds sickening. The goody-good act is a pretty big turn off.

Usually.

Maybe it's because Dick's proven himself less innocent than he appears. The facade may have some truth behind it, but he's seen and felt more than enough to question just how much that truth is. Not many people danced like that, not looking that fucking good and damn well knowing it. No Dick knew full well how to put on a show.

It bothers Jason. Not so much that he would be attracted to someone like Dick, more that he might be attracted to Dick himself. Dick's not Jason's type, in any sense of the word. He isn't, he can't be. Having any thoughts, doing anything like what he'd done with him, Jason can't even begin to describe how wrong it is.

About as wrong as the next few pictures all showcasing the oddest looking people Jason's ever seen. People that would scare the shit out of any sane person with a functioning pair of eyes. People who looked right out of the world biggest freak show.

Or the circus.

Which explained the brightly colored tents and costumes. What it didn't explain was why the ridiculously adorable, younger Dick wasn't screaming in terror. He looked way too damn happy in the sea of freaks around him. Jason had never seen the appeal of the circus himself, running away to join it and all that had always sounded like a nightmare to him.

Or maybe that was just the clowns.

Jason hated clowns.

That creepy soulless makeup and fake painted grin, he'd gladly shoot the first one that so much as looked at him.

He wasn't sure what this circus meant for Dick, but it seemed special. Something he held important enough to display.

"You like what you see?"

The breath of air, the pressure against his neck, the unexpected, slightly rough voice, the question itself, Jason's not sure how many times one can be startled in less than two days. His record wasn't looking too good. If Dick smile was anything to go by, neither were his reactions.

Jason doesn't share the humor. "Do you people enjoy trying to give me a heart-attack?"

Dick shrugs. "It helps pass the time." His lip turns down. "Seriously though, are you always this jumpy?"

Jumpy? In this weird, old house with a built-in fortress underneath? A house filled with more than one kind of bat and who knows what else as residents? Who wouldn't be jumpy?

Jason licks his lips. "Look, this place is like something out of a bad Scooby Doo episode. I really don't need you sneaking up on me on top of it. And shouldn't you be in bed?"

"No and I wasn't sneaking." Dick counters. He points to the picture Jason hadn't realized he was holding. "You were just too busy staring at that to notice."

Staring? He looks down at the framed photo, he wasn't staring.

Oh.

Except now he was.

The woman in the picture is obviously a performer and her outfit is anything but conservative. "She's pretty hot." He observes carelessly. He's not lying, she is, but he's more than a little thrown by being caught with it. He shrugs, trying to hold a tone of nonchalance. "Who is she anyway?"

Dick doesn't hesitate. "My mother."

Awkward is too simple a word, not nearly strong enough for what Jason feels right now. He almost drops the picture. "I meant hot in a metaphorical way." He corrects, wondering if it's possible to simply wish yourself into a different place and time.

Dick makes a hum in his throat. Jason returns the picture, or tries to, but Dick takes it from him. His eyes look faraway, slightly sad, but thoughtful. "She was beautiful."

Jason finds the bottom of his lip, he bites at it hard. "What happened?" He asks, jumping on the chance for a distraction from his earlier statement. It's none of his business, but he can't help it. Every bone in his being begs for the chance to change the subject.

Dick frowns and his voice lowers. "She was murdered."

Not the answer he'd expected. "Murdered?" The word seems too ugly, too brash, from someone like Dick.

Dick sighs and finally places it back. "A wire was purposely cut. Some creep was blackmailing the circus owner and took his threat out on my parents. It was a miracle I didn't die too."

So that answers the circus question. Made more sense having so much memorabilia of it around. Sucked that Dick's parents had to die, more innocents lost because some jack ass had a hard on for proving himself. Wrong place, wrong time, like always. "Must have been hard."

Dick's eyes narrow slightly. "Some people don't care who they have to kill to get what they want."

Jason knows that truth all too well. "Did they ever find him?"

"Batman did." Dick eyes narrow further. "But it was Robin who took care of him." Jason gets the feeling he's not talking about Tim. "I believe he's in a cell as we speak."

Just a cell? "That's a little too lenient, isn't it? Prick deserves to be hanged if you ask me."

Dick gives a bitter laugh. "It sounds easy, doesn't it? Giving the punishment you think people deserve. Believe me, it's not."

His voice is full of conviction, but Jason doesn't see it that way. The man had killed Dick's family. Easier and smarter to get scum like that off the face of the earth. Dick's not going to agree, or he's not going to admit he agrees so all Jason can do is give a half assed motion that passes for agreement. "If you say so."

Coming back to the circus, Jason has to ask, if only to change the subject again. "Wasn't that weird?" Dick gives him a confused look. He explains further. "Growing up like that? Being around all that weird.." He waves, not knowing how to put it any other way. "..stuff?"

Dick quirks a brow. "Stuff?"

Jason cringes at his tone. "You know what I mean. The sets and animals. The people...the clowns."

Dick laughs. "You don't like clowns?"

Jason cross his arms, defensively. "This isn't about me." He sucks at his cheek and finally admits. "But no, I don't."

Dick smiles and glances back at the photos, almost nostalgic in manner. "They were my family, just like Tim and Bruce."

"I didn't mean.."

"It's a little strange, I know." Dick interrupts. "I don't expect you to understand, but they were good people."

Jason lifts a shoulder. "I guess that's all that really matters." He still wasn't passing the clowns, they deserved there own layer of hell. No matter how nice they were. "Must have been a shock though, going from that." He motions to the pictures vaguely. "To this." The manor speaks for itself, he can hardly send a motion strong enough to signify what he means.

Dick gives a slight nod. He trails a finger against the nearest shelf. "You have no idea."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Jason can only imagine what it would be like, going from a house on wheels to a mansion with the richest guy in Gotham as your guardian.

Dick smiles, it's small and he doesn't elaborate. He adds after a moment. "Not that I don't appreciate the company, but how did I get here? My heads a little fuzzy. Last thing I remember being in the kitchen." He pauses and looks thoughtful. "At least I think it was the kitchen."

Jason's stomach drops. This was exactly what he was afraid of. He swallows against the lump forming in his throat. "You don't remember?" He asks.

Dick's brow furrows. "Remember what?"

Sweet Christ on a cracker, he didn't remember. Great, fucking fantastic. Jason could tell him, should tell him, trip on the words like a fucking virgin getting their first hard on. Should is the key word, unfortunately Jason rarely does what he should. This could be the break he needed, selfish as it was. What Dick didn't know wouldn't kill him. Jason was doing him a favor.

Or that's what he told himself.

"You collapsed." He won't use the word fainted, even if it is more accurate. "In the kitchen." Dick doesn't say anything, but watches him closely. He continues. "I think you were looking for Tim or something." That seemed believable, might have been true to a degree. "Alfred saw you fall.."

Dick jumps in. "But how did I get here?" He impatiently points to the floor beneath him, meaning the room.

Jason's not sure if he even hesitates. "Bruce. He carried you." He realizes he's talking to the carpet and when he finds Dick's eyes again they're a darker shade of blue.

"Bruce?" Dick asks blankly.

Jason nods. "But he had something to.." He uses Alfred's word. "..attend to."

"And he left you here?"

Jason nods. "In case anything.."

"Happened." Dick finishes.

Jason nods a second time. "Pretty much."

Dick makes an affirming click with his tongue. His eyes shift to the side as if in thought. He opens his mouth several times, but it falls shut before he actually says anything. "That's kind of out of character for him."

Jason agrees a bit too easily. "You have no idea." He's thinking about Alfred more than Bruce, but Dick turns to him quizzically and he has to backtrack. "I mean Tim was busy so he figured, it was the best.." only, "..option."

Dick finally settles on a nod. "Makes sense, I guess."

Jason breathes a sigh. If Dick honestly believed him, he'd dodged a bullet. This could be good for them both. With any luck he could pretend it'd never happened, never have to acknowledge anything to himself, to anyone. It could all be one big mistake that would never happen again. A good way to start over with no awkwardness between either of them.

"You've helped me again." Dick quirks a smile. "You really are a good person, Jason."

"I don't know if I'd say that." He'd been called a lot of things in his life, good had never been one of them.

"I would." Dick insists softly. His eyes don't quite meet Jason's as he turns towards the nearest window. He throws the latch and swings the giant glass pane open. The cool air tingles Jason's skin. Or it's something else that gives him goosebumps. Dick doesn't stop there, just opening the window and letting in the breeze, he moves closer. Almost like he wants to..

"What are you doing?" Jason asks, if only to stall him.

Dick doesn't stop. "Getting some fresh air." He steps one foot out.

"Um, don't know if you've noticed, but it's a little ways down." Not just a little, a lot. More like break your legs kind of lot.

Dick peers down then back at him. He smirks playfully. "Well then, I guess it's good I'm going up and not down, isn't it?"

Jason chokes at his response. "What are you..." Dick continues to move. He looks serious about his previous statement, despite his humor. "Wait you're not seriously going to go out there. I don't think that's a good idea."

He's talking to an open window, Dick's already gone.

Where the hell he's going Jason has no clue.

But he has a feeling he's going to find out.

x-x-x

The air outside is colder than he remembers or it only just feels that way. It wasn't quite dawn, but close enough that the sky was bordering on the slightest of light at the horizon. Early morning, very early morning.

He should be sleeping.

Like all the other sane people in Gotham. Like he normally would be. Like he really wants to be.

Instead he's scaling the outside of Wayne manor like some asshole following someone who's way to good, or has had way too much practice, climbing buildings. Dick's fluid in a way that Jason doesn't want to admire, but truthfully does. His body, the way he uses it, it's not normal. It's distracting.

Jason misses a step and feels nothing but air beneath him. He should have expected this. Climbing steep buildings with little to no leverage wasn't what he'd call a hobby. Unlike the man ahead of him, he had little knowledge of going this high on an incline, especially when his hands and feet felt like lead.

He expects to fall.

He doesn't expect the feeling of flying overhead. Or the arm attached to his.

Dick is deceptively strong.

"Glad to see you hung around."

They both land on the surprisingly flat roof of the manor. Jason groans, both from the impact and the pun. His arm flings across his eyes. "Jesus Christ, kill me now."

Dick makes a throaty laugh. He has the audacity to look amused. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad."

"Yes, yes it is. I wasn't sure before but it's official, you're crazy." He might sound more menacing if he wasn't panting for air.

"You didn't have to follow." Dick reminds him.

Jason glares at him. "You know I have to keep an eye on you."

"From what?" Dick laughs. There's not much in the way of room so Jason shifts further to the side as he thinks about Dick's question. What was he keeping an eye on anymore? Dick was obviously fine. He'd just climbed multiple stories like he could do it blindfolded with only one arm. His mental state might be in question, but what was Jason going to do about that? He didn't know Dick well enough to diagnose him. Maybe he was crazy to begin with.

"You know what, you're right. What was I thinking, you're fine. I think I'll be going back now." Jason's half serious.

Dick raises a brow at the threat. "Really?" His eyes motion at the height below them. "Seems like a lot of wasted effort."

"Yeah well." Now that he thinks about it, Jason kind of agrees. He scratches at his cheek absently and switches tactics. "What exactly are you..we doing up here?"

"What do you mean?" Dick shifts back slightly.

Jason waves and repeats. "What the hell are we doing here?"

Dick tsks, like Jason's a small ignorant child. He stretches further back. "Getting some air."

The explanation makes little sense. "And we can't do that inside or on the ground because..."

"Don't you ever need to think?" Dick persists.

"Not at the top of the fucking biggest house in Gotham City. On the house of Batman." He reminds. "Who could be watching us right now as we speak." Seemed pretty dangerous.

Dick shrugs, casual and light. "So what if he is?"

Jason can't believe his nonchalance. "You're seriously okay with that?"

The idea more than creeps him out, but Dick seems fine with it. He even shrugs, to prove it. "He'll get bored eventually." Dick pulls a smirk. "And besides Batman has this whole city rigged."

Jason doubts Bruce will ever get bored, the guy's like a machine. "Honestly, I was better off not knowing that. Is he always this excessive?"

Dick's brow shoots skyward. "Have you met Bruce? Excessive is his middle name."

"Still, seems a little much." Even for a guy like Bruce. Was he really so paranoid or was it something else? His way of keep an eye on everything, everyone he came in contact with. His way of control? Whatever it was, Jason wasn't a fan of his methods.

"You'll get used to it." Dick assures.

That makes him laugh, though it's really not that funny. "Naw, I don't think so."

Dick blinks, his expression is a question all it's own.

"Sorry, I just.." He waves at an unseen force, hoping for words. "I'm done, finished, retired, finito. This whole hero thing..way too much work."

"Done? You haven't even started." Dick is way more shocked than he ought to be.

Jason almost rolls his eyes. It's like Tim all over again. What did these guys not get? Answer seemed pretty simple to him. "Well then, I retired just in time." He jokes.

"That's a little absolute, isn't it?" Dick asks, mouth drawn downward.

"It is." He agrees. Completely absolute.

Dick continues to frown, it's too late..early and he's too old to be wearing that look. Jason can't help but sigh. "I've pretty much screwed any chance I had." He explains then shakes his head. He has the worst feeling of deja vu. "And this is definitely not my thing."

"Really?" Dick falls uncharacteristically serious. "Then what is your thing?"

He doesn't have an answer, doesn't even want to think of one. "Nothing you would find useful." He replies, mumbling into his shoulder. It's sad that he's not even lying. He'd tried, had hoped in the beginning, but all he'd earned was Bruce and Tim's disapproval. He really had nothing to offer them.

But Dick's not done. "There must be something." He counters. His eyes look hopeful. Painfully so.

Jason treads carefully, like a fish in shark infested waters. Dick's like an open book, Jason can all but see everything he feels. It's a little too intense for him. "Not unless you count pick pocketing and juvenile delinquency as a skill." He returns stiffly.

Dick looks surprised, then shifts to disappointed. "You don't really think that."

Jason feels the lack of sleep getting to him. His head is all but pounding and this conversation isn't helping. "No offense Dick, but you don't really know me." Not enough to make bold statements like that.

Dick agrees with both a nod and a shrug. "I know enough."

Jason can't help the groan that escapes. He really hates this patronizing bullshit. Everyone in this house seems to know all about him and he still knows next to nothing about any of them. "Did you read Bruce's file?" He asks in barely contained contempt.

Dick looks almost offended. "I wouldn't do that. And I don't need to read a file on you to know certain things."

"Like what?" Jason knows he probably shouldn't encourage Dick, but he's slightly curious, if not completely annoyed.

Dick ticks off on his fingers, like he's been waiting to do this since they met. With way too much enthusiasm. "That you're nicer than you want everyone to think you are. That secretly you do want to continue helping people even if you'll never admit it. That you enjoy the thrill, the rush of it all. That you.." He continues blabbing nonsense that kind of turns Jason's stomach with it's optimism.

"..a good kisser."

Jason's not sure when his brain starts working again after that. It seems to loop at least a few seconds just trying to process what he's heard. He feels slightly brain-dead. Dick's still listing things off, but it's more than Jason can take listening to. "What did you say?"

Dick stops. "Pardon?"

"That part." Jason flails, not knowing how to put it. "That part, you know, the one about the kissing. What the hell was that?"

"Oh and let's not forget a bad liar." Dick doesn't sound as amused as his smile would suggest.

Jason feels sideswiped in the worst possible way. "You knew?" The air suddenly becomes icy cold and fiery hot, all at once. "You knew?" He repeats, louder.

Dick's eyes remain stationed ahead, deceptively blank. He could have nodded, said anything, but he remains silent.

"Why the hell would you do that?" Jason's so beyond confused and can barely think straight anymore.

Dick finally decides an answer. "The kiss or..."

Jason decides to start with that. "Yeah, that." He points at him. "What the hell was that?"

Dick clears his throat. "Well a kiss is usually a form of affection, but it can also be used for.."

He cuts Dick off before he has to hit something, namely him. "Dick, I'm not in the fucking mood. You know what I mean." He has a thought, a pretty sick one. "Jesus, did you fake passing out, too?"

Dick hums. "Not that was unfortunately very real, but Jason, you're taking all this a little too seriously, don't you think?"

"No, I don't think." And he doesn't. "What would possess you to think it was okay to do that?"

Dick gives him an odd look. He almost looks like he's smirking, but it's small and fleeting. "You really are clueless aren't you? I thought maybe before you were just trying to be.." He stops, Jason figures his scowl might have something to do with the sudden shift. "But I guess you really are."

"Fine I'm clueless, but you didn't answer the question."

Dick shrugs. "It seemed right. And you didn't seem too bothered at the time. You were pretty responsive if you recall."

Jason shakes his head. No way was he going to admit that. "I was in shock."

"You usually use your tongue like that when you're in shock?" Dick questions, almost teasing.

His attitude is really starting to piss Jason off. He snaps before he can stop himself. "You know what? Forget it. Let's just pretend it never happened. You were delirious and I was tired, let's leave it at that." Jason knows it's not that simple, realizes it was never going to be.

Especially when Dick's face falls like it does. "I guess I was wrong." Dick states softly.

Jason agrees. He doesn't really know exactly what Dick means, but he's too tired and angry to care. "I guess you were."

"I just wanted to see if you'd be honest with me. With yourself." Dick mumbles after a moment. "But you're right, I shouldn't have put you in that position." His gaze drops. "I'm sorry."

Jason knows he's both lost and won and the feeling isn't even close to rewarding. It feels pretty shitty. Shitty because now that he knows Dick wasn't having bouts of amnesia, he has to deal with things he'd rather not. Like why he's feeling like the asshole when it's really Dick that should be. "Look Dick.."

"You're right." Dick says over him. "This was pretty stupid." He rubs his arms absently. "It's almost dawn. We should go back inside." It's more to himself than Jason.

It's also the first sensible thing Dick's said all night. And it's wrong. His whole demeanor is wrong. "Dick." Jason reaches out and grabs the end of Dick's shirt as he rises. "Wait.."

Dick pulls back, just out of reach. He smiles, a small sad smile. "Sorry Jason, I'm not feeling too well. Maybe later?"

Not likely. "Yeah, sure." Jason lets him go. Let's the whole thing go. This was a mistake. Has been since the beginning. What the hell did he think he was doing? Dick didn't need his help, never had. Sure Jason had found him, could officially say he'd rescued him, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that Tim or Bruce wouldn't have eventually done the same. They probably would have found more information too, what they needed and maybe would have caught the pricks responsible.

This was a house full of heroes trained to the max with abilities and gadgets that would put any law enforcement to shame and awe. Jason doesn't belong here. These people were way out of his league.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, but his ass is pretty much numb by the time he notices. Dick's gone yet again and he doesn't know when or how long ago left, if he should be offended, if he should even care.

Jason does know one thing that he's pretty good at. Damn good at, in fact. Dick, Tim, even Bruce, they could all disappear in what seemed like thin air. Jason could run. Run faster and harder than anyone he knew. Years on the street had taught him that.

Getting off the roof seems a million times easier than getting on it. His mind might be cleared now or maybe it's because he's not distracted, he's determined. Determined to do something he knows he can do better than anyone else. Determined to run.

To fun as far and fast as he can.

To run and never look back.

TBC..