#batbros

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Time passes in a blur. Long enough that tension coils thick and hot around his spine, and the urge to move burns under his skin. Too many thoughts shifting, tumbling, racing through his mind. Edged with razor blades that cut and slice, keeping the furious red simmering around the edge of his sight. This was supposed to be a good night. Angel’s night, and there was no way he was going to screw that up. 

Across the street, a door creaks softly.  Jason flinches. Instinct pulls him on guard, and he shifts. Pushing the rage aside and focusing on the one thing that mattered tonight. The ground crunching under his shoes and the sickly sweet air from the nearby dumpsters burns his nose. He wished Angel's family had taken the time to move to a better place while her grandmother was in treatment, but no matter how bad they suffered. They always took care of their family. 

Bruce could learn a lesson or two from them. 

The squeak came again, and a heartbeat later, a door in the building across from him opened up. Not very wide, but enough that a shadow slid through and closed it tight. Angel! His eyes strained against the dark, a small smile twitching at the corners of his lips, and his heart flipped over as she hustled across the street. Hands in the pockets of her jeans, a thick gray sweater buttoned up to her neck, and her boots almost as noiseless as his own. The picture-perfect image of someone minding their own business as they walked through Gotham, only to duck into the alley at the last moment.

"Jay?" She murmurs, lips barely moving in the gloom, but her eyes light up. Sparkling brighter than any diamond with a joy so intense it nearly swallows him whole. 

“Hey, Angel.” Jason steps out of the shadows, the silence not thick enough to hide the quick hiss of her startled breath, and one second she’s there. Then the next she’s here. Slamming into his body like a warm bullet, her arms easily loop around his shoulders, and pull him closer. Skimming her fingers through the short hairs at the base of his neck, and her face buried so deep into his neck that he can feel the smile she’s wearing imprinted into his collarbone. Her purse thumped against his left hip on the rebound, a hollow echo after the impact. Jason hissed under his breath as red-hot pain flared over a four-day-old bruised bone. She started to pull away, but his arms tightened. Refusing to let her move an inch because it would hurt even worse if she pulled away. For the first time in weeks, it felt like he could breathe again. The hard knot of tension behind his ribs shrinking into a smaller, more manageable lump.

“Missed you so much that words can’t describe it.” She wriggled a little as she leaned into him, letting her breath slow and her body relax. He didn’t miss how her weight was lighter than normal, worn thin by the exhaustion written into every line of her body, and the vanilla perfume she always wore couldn't hide the faint sterile hospital antiseptic still clinging underneath. But she was real, here, right next to his heart that was beating way too fast for her not to feel. And it was everything he’d been dreaming of since she told him she had to leave. 

“Me too. I’m glad you’re home.” He smiled into her hair, but the reality of what he had to tell her tonight slowly seeped through his mind. The blowup with Bruce and Alfred, finding a lead on his birth mother, and the trip lingering over his head. Dang, the universe sure had an ironic sense of timing. “Didn’t know you would miss someone trying to end the world every two days so badly.” 

“Jay! You’re terrible.” She giggled, her hand playfully slapping his shoulders as she pulled back, a half smile fighting against the blush trying to spread up her neck. She looked so cute that he couldn’t help it; he chuckles hard and loud.  Special night goal number 1, make her laugh, is a success. At the rate he was currently going, he was going to be a gooey puddle around her feet before the night was over. He wasn’t the only one affected by their time apart; Angel was already drifting closer again, the slight tilt of her head making the shadows deepen across her forehead. Faint crease lines formed above her eyebrows in a light scowl; she reached up. Her palm warm against his cheek as her thumb grazed the soft bruised skin under his eye, his eyes fluttered, his own body betraying him by leaning into her touch. “You look as tired as I feel. We don’t have to do anything. I told you. I just want to be with you.” 

“I don’t care. No way I’m not celebrating my girl tonight.” Catching her hand in his, Jason twisted and pressed his lips to the sensitive underside of her wrist. 

“Am I really your girl?” She whispered, and her eyes dipped, landing somewhere between his neck and where their hands were connected. The fragile note of hope still lingering in the air made his chest swell thick with a ton of emotions he couldn't sort through right now. After that night, she surprised him by saying I love you, a crappy connection or something else always kept him from saying it back. But she did know he wanted her, didn't she? Jason kissed her wrist again, letting his smile soften into something more vulnerable and fragile.  

“Always. You have been since day one." So many emotions flash across Angel’s face faster than he can catch. Joy, excitement, relief, and the gooey warmth that he loves so much. “Angel- woah!” His eyes widen as she slams into his chest again, squeezing so hard that white stars and black fog fight for control of his vision, and something pops deep in his ribcage that really shouldn't. That's okay, he didn't need those ribs anyway. 

“Is that your new bike?”

Huh? Jason blinks, her death squeeze releasing long enough that he can suck in a breath for his burning lungs. The sharp point of her chin digs into his left shoulder as she peers over his shoulder. Oh, yeah. That bike. The one Bruce threatened to ground him for a month if he ever saw him ride it. The key word being 'saw'.

“Yep, I promised you a ride, didn't I? This is only part one of four in your birthday festivities.” His knees were still a little shaky; long-term exposure to Angel and a lack of oxygen usually gave him that effect, but he walked over to his bike and unsnapped the black helmet waiting on the back. “Safety first, birthday girl.” He grinned. Slipping the helmet over her head and adjusted the straps with a few quick tugs. His entire body suddenly very aware of how close she is again, close enough that he could count every silky eyelash. A happy spark flutters in his chest when she giggles again, and he lifts an eyebrow. “What?” 

“Nothing.” Her eyes flicked down then up, the corner of her jaw flexing where she’s attempting to hide a smile, but it still creeps out. "Just funny to hear you talk about safety. You're not usually so careful.”

“I’m always careful with you.” He winked, but it was the truth. Broken bones, bloody knees, concussions, he could take them all without blinking. But she wasn’t getting hurt on his watch.  Giving the straps and buckle one last tug for security, swinging one leg over the seat, Jason turned to motion Angel on, but she was already scooting up behind him. Her arms linked tight around his chest and thighs pressed tight against his hips, definitely a lot more comfortable than he ever expected. Was she a secret bike girl? He’d never asked, but she’d listened to him ramble enough about them that anything was possible. “Hold on tight, Angel.” He said, the motor’s rumbling growl bounced off the brick walls as they drove off into the street. 

The chilly wind sharpened to pure cold as it whipped around them, cutting through leather and denim like it was nothing, but combined with the steady roar of the engine and the pure thrill of being free and together was intoxicating, and he wasn’t the only one falling under its spell. Angel’s husky giggles echoed in his ears when he’d speed up, her body warm and solid against his back, following his lead into every curve like she’d been born to ride. The eerie quietness had extended into Gotham’s streets and drained it of its usual chaotic traffic, and it didn’t take long to reach the secluded area at the corner of the Wayne property where items two, three, and four waited to be crossed off Angel’s celebration list. 

“We're here.” His voice is rough from being quiet for so long, tapping a single finger against her locked hands across his chest, and she swings off. Quickly shedding her helmet and tucking it on the back of the bike, she skips a few steps ahead, her head tilted so far back that it touches her shoulders as she gapes at the sky. 

“Jay, this is beautiful! Sometimes I forget that we actually have stars.” She spins and smiles too wide, too bright, and his heart does that traitorous hard thud that knocks him breathless again. There goes goal number 3. Show her the stars.  He digs his hands deep into his jacket pockets, and despite everything, a faint spark of pride and hope still lingered. Maybe she wouldn’t think the picnic idea was cheesy, and the necklace. God, he hoped she liked the necklace. His entire insides exploded into butterflies as he glanced over his shoulder to number 2 on the list. 

“C’mere. There's more.” He tipped his head towards a tall oak tree, and she walked up beside him. All bright eyes and smiles, her hand immediately finds his like she’s drawn to his bones, gentle fingers lacing together and swinging slightly with each step. The little spark of hope that this wouldn’t explode in his face grows two sizes bigger, and a little brighter in the moonlight. He can’t remember the last time he saw her this excited, and maybe for once, he did one thing right. 

They stop as the trees open up into a small clearing. This is it. Jason’s breath hitches as she gasps, the crisp moonlight from above chasing away every shadow and illuminating every inch of her features in beautiful light. “Jay…” she trailed off, her mouth dropping open but closing again with a sharp click. Her hand was twitching in his grasp as he watched her absorb every detail he’d planned out so carefully. The red plaid blanket spread across the grass, the lanterns he’d yanked from the garden shed that still didn't work completely after four days of tinkering, but glowed enough to give off a warm amber glow. The antique wicker picnic that Alfred had helped him find in the Attic, buried under years of Wayne belongings and cobwebs, patiently waiting in the center to serve its guests. 

“Tada!” He spread his arms wide, smiling crookedly as his cheeks burned red hot. “Your dining adventure for the evening awaits, madam.”

“Jay, this is amazing! How did- wait!” Angel tilted her head up, the tip of her nose wriggling as she sniffed, and he bit down hard on his lip to keep from laughing as she narrowed her eyes at him. “I smell burgers.” 

“Yep. Hopefully they’re still warm.” Does this mean she likes it? He really hopes so. Holding his arm up at a right angle, he held it perfectly level for her to slip her arm through. “May I escort the lady to her dining for the evening?” She nods and giggles softly, her hands tight around his elbow like she needed the anchor to keep her grounded. His skin prickled as she went quiet, one leg folded over the other and her elbows propped on her knees, studying every movement of his hands like he was disarming a bomb. The burgers, fries, and drinks were all still perfect, even the cookies he’d made fresh the morning. Swaddled in a mound of plastic wrap that would have made the Egyptians proud, the moonlight wasn’t doing his cookies any favors. The slightly too brown edges looked even worse in the dark, more like charred toast than a proper cookie. 

“Those aren’t Maggie’s cookies. “ She murmured as he sat the plate down, and his heart plummeted to his boots. “Did you make them?”

He swallowed roughly. “Yeah. That bad, huh? Alfie tried to help me, but I don’t think it worked. At least I didn’t set the kitchen on fire like Dickhead did. Did I tell you about that? He was flirting with a girl while he was supposed to be boiling some rice, but instead of boiling, it charred dry. Flames were shooting off the stove; he was squawking like a chicken, and it took Bruce and Alfred both to put it out. Now he’s officially suspended from all kitchen cooking duties for two months." 

He was hoping for a laugh, at least a chuckle or something to distract her, but that knowing glint never left her eyes. Instead, she laid a hand on his wrist and squeezed it lightly. “ There is nothing wrong with them.” She whispered so softly that it took his breath, staring him in the eyes like she was daring him to say another word in protest.  “They’re perfect. Thank you.”

“There’s uh… something else,” Jason mutters, a familiar heat starting to crawl up his neck as he ducks his head, reaching into the basket for the small box he’d tucked carefully into the corner. The oversized pink bow glares back at him from the shadows; its poofy loops looking even more ridiculous in the moonlight. Don’t crush it, whatever you do, don’t crush it! Gently cradling it in his palm, the box looks even smaller in his hand, the dark sides fragile as glass, and he roughly clears his throat. “This is… here’s your birthday present.” Angel stills, her face completely blank as he places the box on her knee. “If you want it.”

“Jay,” She licks her lips, one finger slowly, shakily tracing over the outer loops of the bow, and then lowers. Cracking the box apart with gentle fingers. Someone gasps; he’s not sure who, but his lungs freeze as she lifts one hand to her lips. Hiding the way her jaw drops open, the slight sparkle of tears starts to glitter in her eyes, and one quickly overflows. Racing down her cheek in a single pearly stream. “This is… your R.” 

He shrugged, glancing at a particularly interesting tuft of grass by his foot while trying to act casual. His heart had other ideas, currently trying to break through his ribs and throw itself in her hands being the main one. “I can't give you a letter jacket or anything like most guys, but I uh… wanted my girl to have something she could wear of mine.” 

“Will you help me?” Huh? Jason’s head snapped up, both eyes stretching wide as she shuffled over on her knees and turned. One hand smoothing her hair to one side, and the other holding the necklace over her shoulder. Oh… he hadn’t expected that. 

“Yeah, sure.” His hands were shaking so bad that his fingers blurred, the delicate chain clicking as he pulled it from her fingers, and he couldn’t stop a dopey smile from appearing as he laid the chain around her neck. Check and double-check for item 4. Her breath hitched as his fingers trailed across the upper curve of her neck, making double sure that he didn’t tug any stray pieces of hair that escaped, and she flinched when the soft click of the latch snapped shut. “All done.” He whispered against her ear, completely enthralled by the goosebumps spreading across her skin, and trailed his fingers down her shoulder just to watch a second shudder happen.

“Thanks, Jay. I really do love it.” Angel smiled, looping her fingers through the chain and lifting slightly so that the pendant dangled between her fingers. An itchy feeling squirmed inside Jason’s skin as she stroked the R and wings and glanced up. Her eyes were so soft and full of love that they glowed brighter than the stars, and it made his chest so warm that it could burst. 

“Yeah, uh. N-no problem.” He awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck, ignoring the way his voice cracked like old glass,  and looked off to the picnic basket. The interlocking layers of wicker suddenly the most interesting puzzle he’s ever seen. Nope, he wasn’t going to fist pump the air tonight. No matter how much he wanted to scream yes to the sky. Not gonna happen. “We better eat before the food gets cold.” 

They didn’t talk much while they ate, something Jason was mildly grateful for.  As much as he loves burgers, every bite tastes like old grease and rubber, and the fries were worse. Too similar to the trash he used to eat on the streets to settle the hungry ache of an empty stomach. Get a grip on yourself, or she's gonna know something's wrong. He inhaled slowly, flapping his hand over the cookies to shoo away a pesky fly. 

“Are you doing okay after your blow up with Bruce?”  She bumped his ankle with her foot, and he flinched. His body still too tense to relax even now. 

He paused, grabbing his cup and taking a long sip. The night chill wasn’t too bad here; the trees helped block most of the breeze, and it kept the air warm enough that his cup was sweating. Fat beads of moisture squished between his fingers, his lips tightened into a thin line, switching hands and swiping his damp palm across his thigh. The moisture was gone, but the sensation still lingered eerily on his skin like he touched something more than water. That definitely wasn't ominous at all. “You remember the box of stuff from my old apartment building I told you about a couple of days ago? The one Mrs. Walker saved that had my birth certificate and other stuff in?” She nodded, plucking a fry from her carton and chewing thoughtfully. Putting his cup aside, Jason recrossed his legs over each other and sighed. The wary flutter of nerves made his chest pull tight again. “It took me all night, but I think I’ve found my mom through the batcomputer. My birth mom.”

He could feel her gaze flick to his hands, then slide across his face. Lingering long and slow on the tense line of his jaw, the scowl between his eyebrows, and the tightly pressed line of his lips for any extra clues. “Great, and the problem is?”  

“All three women are in the Middle East and Africa.” 

She stilled, setting her burger aside on the blanket by her hip, and curled her arms around her legs, pulling her knees so tight against her chest that her knuckles whitened, needing something to hold while the pieces clicked together in her mind. “Bruce doesn’t want you to go.”

“Bruce doesn’t know.” The empty wrapper crumbled in his fist, and he pitched it away. The silver foil tumbled across the grass until it fell out of sight, and he scratched a hand through his hair. His jaw clenched so tight that tension pulses through his skull. “All he cares about is getting off on catching crooks and thieves. Calling me moody even though he’s the brooding king. He wouldn’t talk about his emotions if someone was holding him at gunpoint, but it’s alright to bench me flat after we bust up a major porn ring that was targeting so many innocent people, no questions asked. Then, after taking away the one thing that lets me help people and makes me useless. Then, he wants to talk. No thanks. He wouldn’t understand why I have to find her anyway.” 

Angel didn’t speak again for a moment, finishing her burger in neat bites, and tucking the empty foil back into the basket. “What does Alfred say?” 

“Besides giving me pitying looks? Nothing. He’s on Bruce’s side. They act like all of life is some damn game and they're the kings in charge of it.” He chuckles dryly and swipes a napkin across his lips, but it doesn’t help the bitterness that still lingers on his tongue. Not everything fit into Bruce’s neat world of rules and order; they lingered too far into the shades of gray to be one or the other. The streets had taught him that. A subtle movement creeping low through the grass on the left side of his vision made him stiffen, and he dropped his gaze to the side, catching on her fingers as she laced them through his. 

“What do you want to do?” Angel murmured between small sips of her drink. 

Jason’s free hand tapped against his thigh. “I want to go find her, ask her a ton of questions, but mostly find her and make sure she’s real.” Alive went unsaid, but Angel nodded in silent understanding. 

“When do you leave?” 

“There’s a 6 a.m.  flight tomorrow.” She stays quiet, every breath shallow and sharp, and her knees inch higher into her shoulders. Scared. The thought slashes through his mind bold and bloody, bitter dread crushing his heart in a brutal squeeze, and a hatred for the silence that always wrapped around her rises so strong and so fast that his stomach twists. Nausea burning hard at the base of his throat. “You think they’re right.” It’s not a question, because he can already see it forming up before she ever says a word. Stupid, reckless. The same words Bruce said when he thought he wouldn’t hear. Jason starts to pull his hand away, but she squeezes hard. The hunched line of her shoulders straightens as she finally raises her head to meet his eyes.   

“No, Jay. I don’t. I think you’re brave, and smart, and I know you can handle this. But knowing that you’re going alone into an unknown situation, so far away from help, that scares me more than any freak this city can cough up. And I’m gonna worry about you no matter what, but good or bad, I-I want you to find what you’re looking for.” Angel smiles, thin and wavery, and the small stutter is deadlier than the unshed tears shining in her eyes. It breaks Jason, cracking open his ribcage and freezing his lungs mid-inhale. Jason’s eyes widen, broad shoulders slumping as all his expectations fall to the ground. She was supposed to scream insults, maybe even punch him, not agree with him. “You promise that you’ll be safe and watch your back?” She adds at the end, twisting her hand to stroke her fingers across the scuffed ridge of his knuckles.

Jason swallowed hard, the weight of her words hitting him square in the heart, and his eyes dipped first to the pendant and then back up to her glossy eyes. “For you, always.” He lifts his fingers to shakily brush across her jaw, and she leans in easily. Stretching up to meet him with slightly parted lips and hazy eyes, he melts at the first brush of her lips. She was so soft and sweet, her lips easily molding to his, and a broken groan slips out before he can catch it when her fingers curl into his hair. Savoring the taste until his lungs were screaming for air, and he pulled back far enough that his lips still hovered over hers before diving back in, pressing two quick pecks ot her lips, and leaning his forehead against hers. A shudder ran through him as he sucked in air like a drowning man, a buried part of his mind still refusing to believe that this was real, but it was hard to deny when Angel was panting as hard as he was. All those romance novels really hadn’t exaggerated when they talked about a kiss leaving you breathless. “If you asked me to stay, I would.” 

She blinked, the pink tip of her tongue swiping slowly along her lower lip, and the only thought on his mind was pressing his mouth against hers again. “I-I know, but I can’t ask you to do that. I want you to be happy, and I’m gonna miss you like crazy. But if you don’t go, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life, and be bitter and angry. A-and…” She broke off, wrapping her arms around his neck again, holding him close while the last pieces of her calm outer shell dissolved into soft sobs. “Promise me you’ll come home soon.” 

“Pinky swear.” He taps his pinky finger twice against her ribs, and her lips twitch against his neck, huffing a small sound into his skin. Maybe it was a chuckle, maybe it was a groan, but it’s enough that her grip loosens. His promise solidifying into the physical world. “You’re stuck with me now, Angel. No take backs.” He breathes into the top of her head, the ragged twitch of her breathing smoothing out as he stroked his palm down her back, and he rocks her gently. Slowly, trying to keep himself together and not give in to the tears prickling his eyes. “I promise, I'll be home before you can even miss me.” 

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Hi! More Angel and Jason cuteness for you. This may or may not lean harder into the OOC for Jason because I was trying to balance younger Jason's happy sunshine enthusiasm with the darker thoughts he started getting before he left. Also, some of the mentions of his past and his fight with Bruce may not be 100% accurate because I haven't all the issues yet.

Get your tissue boxes ready because you know what happens next, but it's not the end of the story. I promise.

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