#wg writes

“A hero who is questioned and then is able to answer is more compelling than a figure who is so powerful that he is never doubted.” — Susan Orlean

~~~

Stephanie hums and taps her fingers idly. “Harls. Can I ask something?”

Harls pushes the bowl away. “Stephanie. You have taken me and my boys in when you didn’t have to, when all o’ Gotham was bayin’ for our blood, and given us food and shelter.” She shrugs helplessly. “At this point, you could ask me almost anything and I’d do my best to answer.”

Stephanie makes a face. “Let’s just… put a pin in that for now. And it’s Steph, not Stephanie.”

“Okay, then. Steph.” That’s going to be an adjustment, but if she can come around to thinking of him as her abuser, to thinking of herself as Harls instead of Harley, then she can think of Stephanie as Steph.

“Right. So. Hypothetically. If you could have brought your abuser to justice, would you have done it?”

That takes Harls aback. “If I could’ve brought him to justice…” She double blinks. “That’s a loaded question for this early of a mornin’. Wait, is it still morning?”

Steph looks at her watch and winces. “Close enough.”

Probably not then. “Okay. So… I think that my answer depends on if I knew I’d be believed, and sometimes not even then.”

Steph hums again and sits back, looking thoughtful.

Know a place~

Where it’s hot as balls~

“ “It’s hot as balls, can we please go now?”

Jason stared at his boyfriend, considering commending him for his impeccable ‘toddler at a grocery store’ impression when he decided against it. “It’s summer, in California, so why the in Hades are you wearing a sweat shirt and how is that my problem?”

“Well I sure as fuck can’t just walk around like a used a cheese grader for a loofa Grace.”

“Well suck it up buttercup, it’s not my fault your face is punchable as it kissable.”

Spoiler takes Harley home. It’s about as dramatic as everyone (by which we mean Harley) expected. (But then, Harley is perhaps not the best judge of danger.)

~~~

Jason honestly does want to catch Dick after he gets out of the hospital, when they finally get back home, to find out what that muttered comment about the Joker finally staying down actually means.

But wishes and horses and all that.

First, as soon as they’ve sorted out their vigilante things thanks to that stupid GCPD deadline, his brother disappears into his room and, like, stays there for the rest of the day – yeah, definitely a headache Dick’s been hiding, the idiot – and then Jason himself gets corralled by Damian and Duke as they want him to show his “magic swords”.

And he lets them, god help him.

It’s nice to be wanted, even if he does have to explain to them that his swords don’t really work like that. He can’t just pull them out because he wants them, or because it’s convenient.

Like all magic, there are rules. (Just like Zatanna’s magic only works for her if she speaks backwards, his magic only works for him under certain conditions.)

The most important one is that he has to be in front of something that’s evil for his swords to be able to manifest. It’s an absolute pain in the ass, especially when he’s in the middle of a gunfight and he could do with the extra boost, but he’s learned to work with the ability.

Not around it.

So, yeah. He doesn’t get to talk to Dick that first day.

...

Some things just keep on giving. And the fallout from the acid attack (from those damned files) just keeps going.

In other words, a knock at the door is now never not going to be scary.

~~~

Some things just keep on giving. And the fallout from the acid attack (from those damned files) just keeps going. In other words, a knock at the door is now never not going to be scary.

Especially when it’s one that they don’t expect.

Knock knock.

Dick tenses at the sound, heart thrumming in his ear as he glances around for signs of danger and he can immediately tell that he’s not the only one having a reaction.

Okay, looks like you really can get PTSD from someone knocking on a door. (Though a part of him does wonder if it’s any door or, you know, just this door.) Thanks but no thanks, Joker.

No one moves.

“Someone is really going to have to answer that,” Tim says.

Jason scowls. “Don’t look at me. Last time I tried that shit, it killed me.”

“Language, Jason!”

“Sorry, Alf.” A beat. “Still not getting the door.”

Knock. Knock.

Steph pulls Cass up. “Jeez Louise. Fine. I’ll get it. C’mon, Cass.”

...

Jason wakes up. This is both a good and a bad thing.

~~~

Jason’s dreams are discordant things.

Chaotic.

He dreams of flashes of light and sounds that come and go.

There’s no peace to be found here.

No silence, no darkness.

No peace. At least there’s no pain. When he wakes, he’s not sure that he’s woken at all.

He can hear beeping, but he’s fairly sure that he heard that earlier. And voices, speaking softly. No, there are other voices, talking loudly, but distant. Not close.

Antiseptic. He’s smelling… antiseptic. The strong stuff, the kind only hospitals use, to cover over the otherwise pervading smell of illness and vomit and death.

It’s so strong he’d swear he can taste it.

Shut up, Jason, you’re getting maudlin. Open your eyes if you want to know where you are.

The family is now officially a victim of crime. So, instead of swooping in and saving people and then immediately leaving, they have to face the aftermath of what happened. Which is… different. No one likes Different.

~~~~~~

Of course, the first thing they do on leaving the hospital is not, actually, go home.

Because that would involve going to the colonial in Gotham Heights, and apparently even though they’ve been declared innocent, the GCPD hasn’t released the house back to them.

It also doesn’t escape Jason’s notice that for all his family looked cheerful in the hospital, in the grim lighting of Gotham’s streets and the even more worn lighting of the family room of the motel they land in, well, his family looks… worn. Stiff. Tired.

Hurting.

He’d be lying if he didn’t say that Dick looks to be carrying the worst of it, his hair matted with blood and deep bags developing under his eyes. (Head injury. Jason’s been in the game long enough to know the signs.) But he also doesn’t really like the way some of the other kids are carrying themselves. Like the way Damian is even stiffer than normal. Particularly in the torso, like the last five years or so of emotional development never happened. (Yeah. The kid has either broken or bruised his ribs and is doing his best to hide it, or he'll chew his hat.)

Which is not to say that the others aren't feeling it too.

(And also, when did he become familiar enough with these people that he could tell when they’re hiding things? He's grown soft.)