17Nothing Will Harm You
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Thea stares at the ceiling.
Pale sunlight filters in through the curtain's cracks and gives the bedroom a hazy glow. Dust motes float idly by, visible only under the thin slivers of light. She listens to her breathing, feels her heartbeat and the warmth of the two bodies lying around her. She may have worried, just for a moment, that moving into a bigger apartment would mean their cuddle piles would come to an end, and the relief that hits her now, surrounded as she is by her Pack, is stronger than she expected.
Gray's head rests on her shoulder as he huddles into the curves of her body, while Jason sleeps with a few scant centimeters between them. He lies on his side, and she turns her head to look at him, at the way the soft light hits his face.
Jason's face was always obscured by a mask or some such, back in the day. Robin's domino, then the various helmets he's worn under the name of the Red Hood – and underneath those, the mask he always keeps on as an extra safety net. Aside from the handful of photos in the public domain and portraits in the manor, Thea had never really seen him.
He has a young man's face now – usually lined with concern or exhaustion, but it smoothens out when he isn't awake. Brownish red is starting to show at the roots of his hair before disappearing into the usual dyed black. He's so meticulous about that, about the color of his hair, but Thea does wonder what it would look like if he just … didn't.
Despite what he may think, Jason doesn't need to be anyone else.
But maybe she's biased.
Gray makes a soft sound, and she strokes his dark hair gently. It was strange waking up surrounding by her Pack like this the first time, but Gray seems to have taken the lack of any remarks, positive or negative, as encouragement for continuing to do so almost every other night. Jason ends up next to them less often, but whenever he does, he always maintains that careful distance, even in his sleep.
Did he used to take care of Catherine Todd like this? Is it why he's been so willing to take them in now? She watches him sleep and feels reassured by the proximity anyway. Thea listens to their breathing, smelling the scents all mixed together and yet somehow distinct, and falls back asleep.
,
Gray is strong.
Thea observes her son spar with Jason in one of his more spacious safehouses, and can't help but contrast his style with Damian's. Which might be a bit … unfair, considering how Talia had a tendency of murdering Damian's teachers once their usefulness was finished, but they were both taught by Ra's to some extent, and as she sits on the sidelines with her laptop balanced on her knees, curiosity begs her to watch.
Knowing Damian already, it's easier to pick out how much of Ra's influenced his fighting style. There's none of the showmanship or flair that's ingrained in Nightwing or even the Red Hood's movements – it's precise and incredibly technical. For all his grandeur and drama, Ra's would rather kill than fight.
Damian, for all that he was ten years old when he came to Bruce's doorstep, would have easily murdered Thea if she wasn't careful. He almost did, the first time they met.
Watching him now, she's sure Gray could have easily done the same if he wanted to.
Gray loses the first round, but demands a rematch after a quick glance at Thea. She's pretty sure he's trying to show off, which she doesn't quite know how to handle but can accept.
There are a lot of things she's learning to just accept and work with. Like how Bruce needs to be the one to draw up the fake certificates and adopt Gray. Although everyone agrees to the idea of posing Gray as the bastard son of her 'uncle', no court or caseworker will allow Thea to assume any sort of guardianship over him until she at least turns eighteen. And no one is sure if they have the time to wait for that. It's the best course of action, no matter that Bruce and Gray haven't even met yet, nor how Thea herself feels about it.
Gray hits a pressure point on Jason's arm and Thea winces. Gray is fast and skilled, but Jason is stronger and more experienced, and it was quickly revealed in the second match how willing they both are to fight dirty.
Thea's lips quirk upwards slightly as she drops her eyes down to the computer screen. Jason might win most of their matches, but Gray certainly makes him work for it.
Idly, she opens up the folder that made Damian cut her line a long time ago. The one that disappointed Dick.
She looks over the list and faces attached to their respective files and feels that familiar pang in her heart.
Would he have liked Gray? Would Gray have liked Dick? She likes to think yes, and she tries imagining the two of them sparring together instead of with Jason. It works for a moment – one beautiful moment – before she remembers Damian. She remembers Dick … choosing Damian. For Robin. Choosing not to approach Thea about it. She remembers him trying to have her committed and forcing her to run away from everyone who thought she was crazy for thinking Bruce might be alive.
They never did end up talking about that, and then it became too late. And now, Thea has nothing but the rest of her life to try and make peace with the closure they were never able to have.
She opens the Red Hood's file. Her finger hovers over the discard button.
Jason. Red Hood. The second Robin. Red Robin. Her Robin, the one she chased over rooftops at night while her parents were away. The one who tried to kill her multiple times in the past over a misconception of being replaced.
She was never his replacement. God, she could never even come close to being one even if she wanted to. Thea was Bruce's band-aid, at most.
Jason never did explain what changed. It's not that she isn't grateful – she'd be dead now if he hadn't stepped in, and who knows what would have happened to Gray if she died – but … it was still a huge leap from the dynamics of their old relationship.
What happened to Jason while she looked for Bruce? After she left Gotham?
She moves the cursor away from the delete button and instead marks his profile as a potential high risk.
A gleeful crow erupts from the center of the room, drawing Thea's attention back up to Gray and Jason's spar. Gray has somehow successfully managed to flip Jason onto his back on the mats and get him to stay down.
Thea closes the folder as her son who looks at her triumphantly, sweat gleaming on his forehead and soaking his clothes in dark patches.
She smiles. "Good job, Gray."
,
"Have you ever thought of quitting?"
"Quitting what?"
Thea and Jason sit on the couch, atop the cheap towel they've draped over the upholstery while she stitches together a particularly difficult area on his back. Turned away from her, Jason is spared the sight of her rolling of her eyes. She's not sure if it's the painkillers or familiarity that keeps him from flinching at the cold needle digging into his flesh, and what does that even say about them?
"You know what. Leaving the Mission."
He's quiet for a long time. The clock ticks, and if they breathe quietly enough, Thea can almost swear she hears Gray breathing as he sleeps in the bedroom.
Finally, he says, "No."
That's … a bit surprising. "Not even once?"
He shakes his head. "I'm the one who convinced B to let me be Robin. I wanted to get into this … and then I died. Next thing I know, I'm swimming out of the Lazarus Pit, and the crazy is in my head and all I'm thinking about is getting revenge. Defending the people Batman's code doesn't really save."
It takes a few more minutes to talk again, but when he does, he says, quietly, "I wanted to get into literature. In college. I mean, yeah, I was Robin, but I had other interests, too, y'know?"
"Yeah." Even if no one ever said it, she's seen his books in the Manor library. "I think I do."
"Never wanted to quit, though."
Thea finishes stitches him up, and gently disinfects the area again. "Turn around." Then, she picks up a half-finished roll of bandages to wrap around his abdomen. Jason's shirt is off, and she can see the full extent of the damage. She's too used to having nights like these to wince, but she certainly empathizes with Alfred more than before.
Jason catches her hands as she ties the knot together, and it's the slur of blood loss and medication in his words that keeps her from jerking away at the sudden movement. "So, when's the little Red Robin flying out of the nest again?"
This time, she makes sure he can see her roll her eyes. "I think I've made myself clear on that topic."
"But you didn't really mean it, did you? I mean… you're gonna get your accreditation in a few months, and then go off to college, but after that–"
"After that, I'll get a solid job and raise Gray with you – if you still want to stay," she adds uncertainly. "I know four years is a long time, and if you find someone else or – or decide you want something else, I'd understand–"
"I'm not going anywhere, baby bird."
Her cheeks heat slightly at that strange moniker. She doesn't even know where he got it. "Okay. I – okay."
He's still holding Thea's hands, and he gazes at her, something quiet and contemplative as he regards her from half-lidded eyes. He's slumped against the back of the couch, but he's still very near her. She smells the cigarettes blending with his breath and scent when he says, "You're really not coming back?"
"I'm not."
"Y're givin' it all up for your pup?"
She returns his gaze. "Yeah."
Jason's expression turns overly touched, and she doesn't know what to do with that. He drags her closer to him, and she lurches forward awkwardly. It is far too late at night for this kind of strangeness. This close to one another, she can see the green speckles nestled in the blue of his eyes. Green like Gray's are, and she feels a small rush of affection.
"You're a good mom," he says. And even if he's saying it in the midst of blood loss and painkillers, she smiles.
"Thanks."
He lets her go then, slumping even further down the couch. Before she can tell him to be careful of the stitches, he mumbles, "Wish my parents gave up something for me."
Thea's throat constricts. "Yeah," she says tightly. "Me, too."
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It's impossible to know what kind of person Thea would have grown into if she'd never become Robin. There are too many events, too much trauma and joy interspersed through the handful of years since she forced herself into Bruce's life to figure out something that complex.
Could she have been an artist? An inventor? An engineer? The youngest CEO of her time as the head of Drake Industries instead of WE? She doesn't even know what kind of person she is now. Wondering about a girl who would've led such a radically different life is just an exercise of futility.
But when the call comes in at two in the morning on the emergency line, Thea wishes to God she'd stayed as far away from all this as humanly possible.
"Why can't I come with you?" Gray, who'd been fast asleep at her side when the alert came in, is indignant at the prospect of being left behind. Right now, Thea doesn't care. "I can help!"
"I don't want you to help me with this," Thea snaps. "This isn't something… God, Gray, please, just stay here. I'll be back before lunch."
Thea can imagine all too easily what kind of injuries Jason might have to warrant an emergency call in the dead of night. That doesn't mean she wants to subject her own child to the sight of it, too.
It still surprises her how strong his grip can be when he holds onto something. He grabs her wrist and looks up at her pleadingly. "Don't leave me."
Her heart clenches. She remembers her parents, and her own loneliness. Has it really only been five years since her entire life changed?
But this isn't quite the same.
"Sweetheart…" She goes down on one knee. Her hair is a wild mess, her clothes practically just thrown on, but she puts a palm against his cheek. "Jason and I will be fine, and we'll both be back before lunch. There's nothing dangerous going on. He just … Jason needs a little help patching up." She raises her eyebrows a little, trying to look even just a little hopeful. "Okay?"
"Okay," Gray whispers.
She kisses his forehead. "Thank you. Go back to sleep, baby, I'll be here before you know it."
This particular safehouse Jason has taken refuge in is one of the farther ones from the apartment, but the lateness makes Thea drive more carefully than usual. Red Robin would have broken the speed limit to reach an injured ally, but Thea would rather not get into an accident herself.
She parks a few blocks from the building and runs the rest of the way, towards Jason's signal. The security system has already been bypassed, and she doesn't hesitate from practically crashing through the door.
"Jason!"
His unconscious body is sagged against the wall, blood streaked on the floor. The smell of it mixed with gunpowder and leather is as familiar as it is nauseating, but Thea locks the door behind her. Her mouth presses into a grim line as she sheds her jacket. She picks him up awkwardly – he's too big to really fit in her arms, but she doesn't think throwing him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes will be any good for of his injuries either. It takes some doing, but she manages to settle him on an empty table.
She's never been in this safehouse before, and she takes a minute to look around. It's an undecorated studio apartment, from what she can see, too small for the three of them to reasonably fit into even if they tried. There are medical supplies and weapons hidden in the cabinets, along with a few crackers and some canned food. Thea grabs all the medical kits she can find and looks inside them. Some hold basic tools and treatments while others contain surgical equipment.
Thea looks at Jason again. Something like a chainsaw cut through his chest armor and into his flesh, and there are severe burns on his side and hands. There might be a few bullet wounds, too, but it's too early to tell.
She takes in a deep breath, trying, somehow, to channel Alfred.
"Jason!" She shakes him gently, doing her best not to irritate his injuries. He groans and stirs slightly. Good. "Jason, listen to me. I need you to take your armor off so I can treat you."
He doesn't answer, but his hands fumble at whatever trigger mechanism or fasteners he uses to keep it on. Thea pries at the edges and drops the armor to the floor as soon as it's released. The broken red helmet drops onto the floor as well.
"Someone really fucked you up this time," she murmurs. Thank God she didn't take Gray along. Thea never wants him to see Jason like this – bleeding, burned and bloodied. She clears her throat. "Okay, this is … this is going hurt, Jason. But I need you to not fight me."
There are sedatives in the med kits, but if she's going to save his life, she'll have to start before they can take full effect.
Never mind. She can't think about that now.
Jason's been in more pain than this before. He can cope. They've all had to before. The thought keeps her hands steady as she digs bullets out of his shoulder and chest, as she stitches him back together, cleans and wraps him up in bandages. The scars will be big and ugly, but he'll live.
It's well into the morning by the time Thea is done. She collapses on the chair once she realizes her idiot vigilante of an adopted brother won't die in the next few minutes, and nods off, only to be awakened seemingly a few seconds later by a shrill ringtone.
It's her shrill ringtone.
But who would be–?
Her eyes fly open.
Fuck. Gray.
She bolts out of the chair and grabs her jacket off the floor, fumbling as she gets the phone out of the pocket.
"Mother?"
"Gray! Are you alright?"
"You haven't come back."
Thea checks the time. Shit, it's almost one o'clock. "Oh… um…" She looks over at Jason's still unconscious form. He's still deeply asleep, and he'll need more pain medication in a little while. Can she even move him out of here? His hands are completely bandaged up to his forearms, and his chest wound… It's not as if those are his only injuries, either.
"Mother?"
She licks her lips nervously, eyes locked onto Jason. At least his rest seems peaceful. "I'll be there in an hour, okay? Just order some takeout – you know where the cash is."
There's a huff on the other end. "Is he okay?"
"He's alive. He'll be fine in a few weeks, probably."
"Probably?"
Thea sighs. "I don't know, Gray. I did my best, but I'm not a doctor. If there are any complications, we'll have to take him to a hospital." Which will surely bring the media down on them once the doctors start asking questions.
"I love you, Gray. Thank you for waiting for me."
"…I love you, too, Mother."
For a long time after they hang up, Thea just stands there, staring at Jason's broken body.
,
After everything that's happened, after all their training, sneaking Jason into their new apartment isn't all that hard. Even if she does resort to coming in through the roof instead of the building's normal entrance. No one in New York really cares anyway, especially not if you look like you know what you're doing.
Gray is quiet as he helps her settle Jason into his bed, but Thea doesn't quite know how to break the silence besides giving him something to do.
Almost as if he was waiting for the exact moment both their backs were turned, Jason wakes up and thinks that trying to walk is a good idea for some reason. He manages to take a few steps away from the bed before just collapsing on the floor.
"You. Are. Injured, you absolute moron," Thea hisses in his ear as she and Gray carefully drag him back onto the bed. She tries administering another sedative to dull the pain, but Jason waves her off. Understandably, he doesn't like drugs or being drugged, but Thea has to swallow down a blinding wave of fury as he does. "You have lost way too much blood to try this shit."
Oh, what the hell? He'll be the one suffering through the pain anyway.
Later, after the skies have grown dark, Thea drags one of the dining table chairs to the bedside so she can keep watch over him in case something happens. She'll probably only need to do this for the first week or so, once she's sure there's no risk of a sudden infection. Gray stays up with her for a while, but she eventually waves him off so he can rest.
The bedroom is illuminated only by the dim glow of her laptop screen. She's already gone through the recent local news – the warehouse explosion the Red Hood was supposedly involved in made headlines – and she's settled into scrolling through old photos. There are quite a few albums, arranged by year, coming to an abrupt stop a few weeks before Bruce was lost in time. Then, it jumps forward to a few days ago, after she, Gray, and Jason cleared out her old apartment.
She burns Jason's easy grin into her mind, memorizes the lines of his tired face, the warmth of it. She'll never forget what this moment looks like, even if she goes blind.
"Thea?"
"You're supposed to be asleep."
"So are you."
"I'm not the one who's injured."
"You sound pissed."
Her eyes move slowly off the screen and onto Jason's dimly lit face. She can't quite decipher his expression. She's not sure she wants to. "What if I am?"
Jason sighs, wincing as he does.
"You could have died," she says, flatly. And she can't bear to look at him while she does. "I saw the news. The police reports. You could have died last night. So easily, while we were asleep."
"It's part of the job."
Thea's eyes close. "I know."
"Hey…" She hears rustling, and when she looks, she sees he's straightened up slightly against the headboard. "What's going on in your head?"
"What would we have done if you'd died," she whispers. Like it's a secret, just for them. Their deepest, darkest fears. Or maybe just hers. "We … wouldn't have been able to do anything. We wouldn't even find out until the newspapers reported it. We might not even have been able to find your body. We wouldn't be able to claim it legally even if we did."
"Thea…"
A shuddering breath escapes her. "How would I even explain something like that to Gray? That you'd left us? That you'd died? Again. God, how would I have explained that to Bruce? And I just know that you'll try going out again in a few days instead staying in until you're healed."
"What exactly do you want me to tell you, Thea?" Jason just sounds tired. He probably is. This … isn't the best time for them to have this sort of conversation. But if they don't have it now, when can it happen? Thea doesn't want to do this when Gray might hear them. "That you're right? That I'm exactly like Bruce?"
"I don't want this to happen again."
"You know I can't promise you that."
Thea closes the laptop, and the darkness envelopes them completely. If neither of them talk, neither of them have to exist; their conversation doesn't have to exist. Not in the darkness.
"I don't want you to die."
"Thanks. I don't want to die, either." When she doesn't laugh, doesn't so much as move, he says, soberly, "You're really mad at me."
She doesn't answer.
"Look, what do you even want me to do? Quit?"
And … yes.
That's exactly what Thea wants him to do. She wants to take her whole pack and run as far away from the Mission as humanly possible. She wants Gray to go to school, she wants Jason and her to work in normal jobs that don't require them to put their lives on the line every single fucking night.
She wants that. She wants the normalcy. If not for herself, then for her son.
Thea imagines it: Gray in a cape. Just a child, and already taking down lunatics with weapons and murderers and supervillains. She imagines him dead, bloody and beaten for all his training and natural skill. Remembers what Damian looked like when he died, and sees in her mind's eye her son, so young and small in his place.
"Thea, I can't see… Are you crying?"
…Damn it.
"I can't do this without you, Jason," she whispers, fighting hard to keep control of herself. "I've told you before, and I just … I can't. But I will if I have to."
Slowly then, emotions building in his voice, he says, "Are you saying you'll leave if I don't quit?"
Thea swallows. "If I have to."
"You don't … God, Thea, you don't have to do anything. You don't have to leave."
"Like hell I don't!" It comes out louder than she meant it to, and she lowers her voice again immediately. "You don't think I've seen this before? I had a life outside of Robin when I first started. That disappeared when my parents died. When my friends died. When everyone thought Bruce was dead, I turned into Red Robin. If he sees you die…"
"You're afraid it will turn him into a vigilante?"
"Yes."
"Well, I hate to be the one to tell you that he already hates Ra's enough to do that even without witnessing the tragic death of a parental figure."
"He doesn't have to… that doesn't… No, I-I can't lose Gray to this. He can't do what we did, Jason. That's … that's one of the reasons why you hated me, right?" she adds desperately. "You hated that Bruce dragged another person into his war on crime?"
"That's not your choice to make, Thea."
"I know, I know it's not, but if I can just get him away from all this for a few years. Just for a little while." Gray is still so young, they still have time. There are other ways to live, better ones, she's sure.
"And, what? Do you think world-ending events will just stop happening wherever you go, or that you won't be affected by them? Or that there's a place Ra's doesn't have influence over?" Jason's voice is growing angry, and she's glad she doesn't have to see his face. "There's a reason why we do things. Yeah, it's wrong for Bruce to bring kids into this, but you can't run off with Gray and pretend everything's fine. You were Robin. That's something that never really leaves you."
Thea shakes her head stubbornly. "No. That's not true, I won't sacrifice Gray's future because I was Robin for a few years. I got myself into this, and I can get myself out."
"Can you?" Jason hisses. "Do you know what Gray told me once? He told me he'd murder Ra's one day. Your sweet little kid made an oath of vengeance on his own dad, I'd say it's a little too late to get him out of this."
"I…" Her heart sinks. "He told you that?"
"He did, and I think he really will try it once he thinks he's strong enough."
"No … no, I – there's still time. He doesn't have to – no!"
"Do you really think Ra's will leave you alone? Do you think you can fight him off if he tries to get to you?"
"Why are you being like this?" asks Thea furiously. "I thought you would be happy for us to get away from – from this! From danger."
"I don't want you in danger but running away from your problems is not the answer. You think that moving away from me and Bruce and everyone connected to Batman will make everything okay, but it won't. That's not how it works. Ra's is still out there, and the world will be in danger at least twice a year, so if you want to protect Gray, don't – don't close your eyes to what's happening. You don't have to be involved, but don't pretend the problem isn't fucking there."
"I'm not, that's not the point! You just don't want to stop being the Red Hood!"
"What I do is important–!"
"It's illegal!"
"Well, I didn't see you giving a shit about it when you were stealing my alias."
"Forgive me for trying to find Bruce when all of you thought he was dead."
"Tell me, Thea, how many people did you kill while you were travelling the world? Five? Ten? Did you put that in the report you gave Bruce, or were you too afraid he'd–"
"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, just shut up, you asshole! You don't know anything about what happened back then."
"Mother? Jason?"
Even in the dark, they freeze. The light comes on, and Gray looks at them with wide eyes. His hair and clothes are still ruffled and rumpled from sleep.
He smells … afraid.
And suddenly, the room is too small, and she can't stand Jason's presence or scent or voice. A rush of shame washes over her as she realizes she can't stand Gray's, either.
So, she runs. Out of the room, out of the apartment. She abandons her son – and finds herself on the roof of the building.
It's dark, but never too dark in New York. She can see lights in the distance, hear the sounds of people and cars passing through a few streets away. The impatient blare of a horn.
Thea gasps in the polluted air and bends over, hands on her knees as she tries to just get a grip.
"What do I do?!" she screams hoarsely at the dark sky. "What do I fucking do?"
God, she just wants her mom.
She falls to her knees, still holding herself. Get a grip, get a grip god damnit. She can't be like this around Gray, she can't … she has to be strong. She can't clock out every single fucking time something happens, or if there's a bad day.
Better, she thinks. I need to get better.
But what is 'better', really? What does it look like? How would she know? She's been surrounded by emotionally damaged and distant people all her life, so how the hell would she know what that sort of thing should even be?
She doesn't know what to do – about herself or Gray or Bruce of Ra's. There are no right or good answers that she can see, only less terrible ones. She thinks about the looming specter that is Gray's father, and the long, dark shadow of Batman and his never-ending war. It's as if she can see their future now, hers and Gray's. The real one that she's tried so hard not to face.
There was never any hope of living a long, happy life for them.
She threw that away when she was twelve years old.
,
"I'm sorry."
Thea isn't entirely sure of how much time passes before they find her curled up on the roof. She watches dispassionately through half-lidded eyes from where she's lying on the concrete as her son helps Jason shuffle towards her. Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, Gray carefully helps Jason sit on the ground before swiftly exiting the roof, leaving the two of them in peace.
Sort-of peace.
It's quiet for a while, at least, and Thea watches as Jason's face goes through a few complicated expressions.
And the first thing out of his mouth is an apology.
"It was uncalled for," he continues. "And I … if you think Gray would be safer away from all of this, then you're perfectly within your rights to leave."
Thea closes her eyes and breathes.
"Please say something."
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
"Thea…"
"Dick wasn't my Robin," Thea says. When Jason doesn't make a sound, not even a shuffle, she cracks her eyelids open and sees him watching her intently. Listening. "Dick was my brother, but he wasn't my Robin," she says one more time before adding, "You were.
"You were the Robin I followed around Gotham at night. You were the Robin in my pictures. You were the Robin I tried to live up to for so long.
"And you hated me."
She sees Jason wince, sees him open his mouth to speak, but she can't take another apology, so she barrels on. "When I wore Red Robin, it was because no one believed me. It was because I needed to do things Robin couldn't. I wore it because I had something to prove."
She shivers and hugs herself. The concrete is cold and unforgiving beneath her. "I'm tired, Jason. I'm so fucking tired, and I'm scared, and I'm tired of being scared."
Her eyes fall shut again when Jason reaches out and carefully strokes her hair back. His scent is familiar and soothing despite the underlying tinge of blood and smoke. She curls up tighter, whimpering softly.
"I don't know what to do," she whispers. "I have a child more than half my age, and the world never stops ending, and I don't know what to do."
"Neither do I," Jason admits after a long silence. "But as your son very helpfully reminded me after you ran out, that I promised I'd protect you no matter what … I guess I'll be doing that."
A watery laugh escapes Thea. Count on Gray to give Jason a dressing down after that scene. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," Jason says, slowly, "That you're – right. I guess. I can't be the Red Hood and protect you and Gray. Not when being the Red Hood constantly puts my life at risk, and possibly places targets on your back if I'm ever found out.
"It means that I can't keep going on being legally dead, not if I want to be seen with you in public. It means that if you can't keep living like this, then neither can I."
Thea's breath catches. "You'd … give up the Red Hood?" For her?
"Not entirely," Jason says. "You gotta remember that Ra's still is out there, and I don't want to be a sitting duck when he decides to make a move. But I can … I can cut down on patrols. I'll ask Bruce to fix my papers – Jesus Christ, that's gonna be a circus – and … we'll see where the three of us can go from there. Okay?"
"Okay." Thea closes her eyes, a single tear slipping down her face. "Okay."
He reaches out, gently laying his injured hand atop hers, and she feels the bandages against her palm. The future stretches out before them, dark and unwelcoming as ever before, and she focuses on the weight of his hand, drinking in the presence of this Alpha who knows her and her son and is here despite it. Who has been beaten to death, manipulated, and traumatized to an extent most people might say would be beyond repair – but who is sitting out on a cold rooftop next to her anyways.
Her lips form the words she cannot give voice to, that she exhales in a single breath.
Thank you.
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[Profile: Red Hood]
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[Confirm delete file? This will permanently erase all records.]
-Yes
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Author's Note: This is ... gosh, this is the last chapter of Nothing Will harm You. For now, at least. I guess I'm getting a little impatient; I want to start the next arc so badly. Maybe I'll add a 5th chapter to this someday, but regarding their time in New York, I think I've said all I've wanted to say.
Catch you in the next installment! (title still pending)
