JASON TODD

Jason leaned heavily against the edge of the sink, a sheen of cold sweat clinging to his forehead. He pressed a fresh wad of gauze to the jagged hole in his shoulder, his jaw locked tight enough to crack a molar. On the metal tray beside him sat the undeniable evidence of his impromptu surgery: a deformed 9mm slug resting in a pool of iodine, bloody forceps, and a mounting pile of crimson-soaked bandages.

He shot his older brother a venomous glare from under heavy, exhausted brows. When he finally spoke, his voice was a raspy gravel, but the hostility in it was razor-sharp.

Bag of still steaming takeout is set on the nearest counter ad Dick invites himself into Jason's home. He doesn't drop by unnanounced often. He likes to give Jason his space. However, Jason has been especially quiet recently... Dick just missed his brother, okay?

"I'm not a tattle tale, Jay," Dick replies with an offended snort. Arms come to cross in front of his chest as he watches Jason slowly and painfully stitch himself up. He and Jason have had plenty of practice by now tending to themselves. It doesn't make it any less painful to watch, though. His older brother instincts scream at him to intervene but once again he wants to respect Jason's boundaries.

"No." He said it flat, automatic — the same way he'd been saying it his whole life. Then the next stitch pulled wrong and his breath hissed out sharp through his teeth, fingers whitening around the forceps.

He sat with that for a moment. Stared at the half-closed wound. Stared at the wall.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever." The words came out rougher than intended, aimed somewhere in Dick's general direction but not quite at him. He shifted slightly on the edge of the bathtub, making room — not a lot of room, just enough — and held the forceps out without looking up. His shoulder was rigid, every muscle in his neck pulled taut. "Don't make it weird."

Jason leaned heavily against the edge of the sink, a sheen of cold sweat clinging to his forehead. He pressed a fresh wad of gauze to the jagged hole in his shoulder, his jaw locked tight enough to crack a molar. On the metal tray beside him sat the undeniable evidence of his impromptu surgery: a deformed 9mm slug resting in a pool of iodine, bloody forceps, and a mounting pile of crimson-soaked bandages.

He shot his older brother a venomous glare from under heavy, exhausted brows. When he finally spoke, his voice was a raspy gravel, but the hostility in it was razor-sharp.

Happy Batman Day to all who celebrate this little bitch of a man. 🙏

i don't need your help.

you won't have to deal with me much longer.

that's the only thing i need from you.

it's safer to just push everyone away.

you can do this by yourself.

who said i was helping?

that's not what we agreed to.

i work better alone.

you're not coming.

stay here.

this is my duty.

i have a job to do.

i don't work well with others.

i never agreed to take you with me.

things are better when i'm alone.

i don't need anyone.

don't you have someone else to talk to?

i won't be of any help.

i'm sorry. you're not coming with me.

you stay put.

i'll help just this once.

don't follow me.

this is where we part ways.

there is no "we."

i never needed your help anyway.

you've been a thorn in my side since we met.

i said that i would take you there. that's it.

there was no agreement.

i never said we would stick together.

you need someone else.

i'm not the one you're looking for.

i've been alone my whole life.

i like my solitude.

i've never needed anyone else.

ever since that day, i've been alone.

don't lean on me.

don't rely on me for anything.

i'll only let you down.

i'd be happier if i was alone.

you sleep. i'll keep watch.

that's not what i said.

you're putting words in my mouth.

it's easier for me to go solo.

everyone i've ever loved has left me.

people die every day.

i can do more damage on my own.

did i ask for your help?

when i tell you to run, you run.

get out of here.

don't look back.

i'm not the one for you.

if i start caring about you, you'll end up dead.

everyone i've ever loved has died.

this is over between us.

based on that one scene from Ghost Stories lol

I’m not sure if anyone has already done this before, but here is a redraw of that Uptown Girls scene but with Jason Todd

Jason: define "slept"

Tim: Closed your eyes without plotting someone’s downfall.

Jason: oh that's easy. Never

Happy Death Day Jason ❤️

Years in the job had left Dick with a pretty high pain tolerance, but even he had limits, and it had been so sudden that he hadn't had chance to prepare himself for it. It hurt like hell, which he supposed was exactly what Jason was getting at. His fault for trying to play it off as nothing. It really wasn't that bad though. He'd had worse bullet wounds.

"Was that really necessary?" He asked once his breathing had returned to normal. "I mean, seriously, Jay. That was just mean."

He rotated his shoulder a bit, ignoring the white hot flash of pain that accompanied the movement. He could already feel it getting stiff and that'd just make it worse.

When Dick asked if squeezing the wound had really been necessary, Jason cut him a flat look. "Was I bullshitting you? Yeah, a little." He didn't sound remotely sorry. "Still needed to know where it hurt, so."

He crossed the room and yanked the closet open, rummaging through the second shelf without ceremony. "Don't like how it looks," he muttered, mostly to himself, dragging the portable ultrasound unit out by its handle. He set it down on the table with a thud and grabbed the gel beside it, shaking the bottle once.