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Fic: Born Under a Bad Sign - Chapter 14

Title: Born Under a Bad Sign - Chapter 14

Fandom: DCU [which does not belong to me btw]

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson

Rating:  PG- NC-17

Thanks to Sharon as always! <3

Warnings: full warnings in the prologue,

Summary: The world is in ruins, the justice league is gone, and like many others who have tried fighting for their freedom, Jason Todd is in prison. He finds help from an unexpected source.

The move to cell two went without further incident. Fahim was sorting out who else would be sharing their accommodation, and the new hierarchy, whilst Jason looked menacing and did his best to pull himself back together. He was anticipating a showdown with Dick, but he wasn’t sure what form it would take– would he be freaked out? Angry? Both?

Showing amazing restraint [in Jason’s opinion] Dick waited until the fuss had died down a bit and they were alone, to shove him against the wall.

Angry, then.

“What the hell Jason?” he snarled. He had a dark bruise forming on his cheek from where Benson had struck him, and more on his jaw from where the fucker had held his face as he attempted to… Jason had to shake away the thought before it overwhelmed him again, but his own anger was bubbling back despite his efforts.

“What?” Jason growled right back. “Bit much for your delicate sensibilities, Golden Boy?”

Dick just gave him a slightly appalled look. “Delicate sensibilities? I just watched my partner cut a man’s dick off and stuff it down his throat! I think I’m allowed to be a bit disturbed! You didn’t even wait until he was dead!” He shuddered. “That was like something they would do.”

“And how any times did that bastard make someone choke on his cock?”

Dick shot him a sharp look. “How is that an excuse for torture?”

“This way it sends a message that I’m not fucking around, and now they know not to touch what’s mine!”

Dick’s eyes narrowed and Jason wished he could bite back that last bit. “What’s yours? Tell me this wasn’t about me?”

“It wasn’t about you.” Even he didn’t believe himself, but it was hard to explain all the things that had helped form his anger and he didn’t want to admit his blackout, his loss of control. “I needed to make an impression, they wont forget now,” he said instead.

“Oh no, don’t think you can make out that was planned - I saw your face, the hate. It was about what I did with Benson, about... what he wanted to do to me.” Dick finished quietly, like it was a secret rather than something the whole fucking jail saw.

It just filled him with such impotent anger – he hadn’t meant for that to happen, he hadn’t wanted Dick to do something so horrible.

Suddenly claustrophobic, he broke Dick’s light hold and reversed their positions, slamming him against the wall more forcefully than he intended. He didn’t want to think about this shit any more, he wanted to punch Dick’s stupid face until the image of him choking on Benson’s cock was banished from the dark places in his mind.

He shut his eyes fighting for calm. He felt adrift - he’d worked so damn hard to maintain control and he wasn’t sure weather to blame Dick, prison or the Anathema for its loss. He had been so intent on moving forward – helping Gotham and the baby bats, finding a way to survive in this shit-hole, finding a way out. He knew if he stood still he would crack open at the seams. Bruce was gone, even the Joker was dead – gassed along with the rest of Arkham – all the things that gave him drive except for Gotham herself, were gone. He was all that was left, and keeping a strong check on his emotions was a huge part of his coping mechanism.

He was torn from his thoughts by a gentle hand on his face. He didn’t remember letting go of Dick’s wrists nor bringing their foreheads together and screwing up his eyes.

His mind felt full of holes.

“What were we to each other that you would do something so awful to protect me?” Dick asked.

Enemies, rivals, family. Dick couldn’t understand their relationship with his brain turned to mush, and couldn’t understand the lack of conscious thought that went into what he had done.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. He wished Dick would just leave it, maybe punch him and storm off. But he wouldn’t, because under the blank slate his mind had become, he was still Dick Grayson.

“It matters to me.” Dick’s hands were on his face again. “Jason? Please Jay, I need to understand this.”

“There’s nothing to understand,” Jason said shaking him off. “We are what we are now, that’s what matters.” God his voice sounded broken. This had been a shitty week and he was on he edge of losing it again. The weird expression on Dick’s face wasn’t helping any - it was a mix of frustration, pity and hope. Jason knew what he was thinking, he had even encouraged it; he thought there was a close relationship between them, or had been, and the fact his hands had crept back into Jason’s space started to take on a new meaning. His brother crushing on him was the absolute last thing he needed, he may have had a fucked up way of looking at his pseudo family that involved very inappropriate lust, but Dick certainly didn’t and it could only end in tears… and possibly Jason’s blood if Dick’s memory ever returned.

“Just promise me you wont do anything like that again, OK?” Dick said, breaking him from his thoughts. “Please Jason?”

Jason’s jaw tightened as that goddamn image flashed through his mind again “I can’t promise that,” he said, his voice lowering to a growl. “I won’t promise it – men like that deserve what they get, they make a choice and they have to deal with the consequences.”


“There’s no 'but' here Dick, and if you want to be my enforcer you’re going to have to beat the crap out of shit-stains like that, understand? You are going to have to act not just with violence but nastiness, meanness – or nobody will take us seriously. We’ll end up just like Redford and Thorpe.”

Dick didn’t look happy, but he nodded. He wasn’t stupid and it was obvious that this was going to be the way of things.

“It’s going to be weird not being your bitch anymore,” he sent Jason a small grin and Jason knew even if he hadn’t been forgiven - he would be.

“Nah, you’re going up in the world, now you're gonna be my lover.”

Dick blinked at him, and a slight flush rose on his cheeks.

Jason smirked. “We need to commandeer 3 bunks, and I need an excuse.” That and the fact he had gotten used to the comfort of a warm body next to him.

“People are going to be very confused about this whole thing.”

“Like I give a shit.” Jason took a long look at his brother - he looked like crap.

There was an uneasy pause, Dick was staring into space and Jason struggled for the right thing to say. “So how are you feeling?” he tried awkwardly.

“Fine.” Dick said unconvincingly.

“Fine? You sure about that? You don’t look fine.”

“I’m not hurt, I’m OK.”

“You were just forced to publicly give head to a guy who wanted to torture you to death, and you’re feeling fine.” Jason tried to rein in his temper but his frustration was threatening to get the better of him, again.

“Jason, he didn’t force me, I made a choice, I decided. I'm not a victim.”

“Did you like it?” He probably could have worded that better – but he felt such helpless frustration and Dick was the only person within range.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” Dick growled at him.

“I just mean that just because it was your choice it doesn’t mean you don’t feel shit about it. It’s OK to feel shit about it.”

“And suddenly you’re Mr. Feelings?”

“Yeah, just call me Dr Phil.”

“I don’t remember Dr Phil…” Dick leant against him, avoiding his eyes. “I felt nothing, blank, like there was nothing left inside me. I fell away from myself.”

“He could have killed you.” God with Dick zoned out they could have both been killed.

Dick shifted, obviously uncomfortable. “My body came back before my brain; it reacted, lashed out. It was so familiar, like something that was part of me, so I felt safe and came back…” he trailed off.

“Not being funny Dickie, but that was fucking stupid – do you have any idea what could have happened?” He scrubbed a hand over his face, they had been so goddamn lucky. He was going to have to keep a close eye on things, that zoning out shit could make Dick, and by extension, himself, very vulnerable.

They had allowed a total of 12 other people in their cell, all hand picked and grateful to be there. Jason would have to find out every bit of info on them to make sure they stayed in line, but between Dick and Fahim that shouldn’t be too hard.

He held a very threatening version of a meet and greet before he shooed the other inmates out - so he could indulge in some 'alone time' with Dick. Once they were alone, they set about dragging their new bunks to the position they wanted.

“I’m still not too clear on the actual plan now we’re here,” Dick grunted as they heaved the heavy bed frames across the floor.

“Ever seen the Shawshank Redemption?” Jason asked. Dick just gave him a long, irritated look.

“Right, can’t remember. The Great Escape?”


“You’d think some classic cinema would have stuck in your brain, but I guess not.” Jason said.

“This isn’t helping!”

“There’s a tunnel – at least Fahim tells me there is – already dug, but the would-be escapees died before it was finished and Fahim didn’t want to go alone.”

Dick shoved the bunk against the wall and wiped sweat from his face. “Do you trust him?”

“Fahim? I guess. I mean, I trust the fact he doesn’t want to die, and getting out is the only way to avoid that right now.”

Dick stripped his jumpsuit to his waist - it was hot work and Jason had folded his down straight away. Dick seemed to be enjoying having clothes other than his boxers and had hung onto it as long as he could. Jason found he couldn’t stop looking at the tattoo – it had been on display the whole time but somehow it drew his eye more now. Seeing it peek over the top of the rolled down jumpsuit sent jolt of warmth through him.

“So when we do leave, where will we go?” Dick asked and Jason had to tear his eyes away.


“And where is home?” Dick asked as they set about moving the second bunk – it wasn’t any easier to shift than the first one had been.

“Gotham,” Jason grunted. His shoulder was complaining bitterly and he suspected he had wrenched it during the fight.

“Gotham? Really?” Dick sounded disappointed. “I’ve not heard a single nice thing about that place, not one.”

“It’s a shit heap, but it’s where you live - lived.”

“Sounds charming.”

Jason snorted. “Charming isn’t an adjective I’ve ever heard used to describe it.”

They finally had all three bunks in position, making a big sleeping area. Jason surveyed their handiwork as Dick crawled onto the bunks. “I hardly know what to do with all this space!” he said, flopping down on his back. “When do we check out the tunnel?”

“Tomorrow night, when things have died down a bit.” Jason sunk down on the bunk and he winced as he rotated his sore shoulder, the motion making his back twinge too.

“Are you hurt?” Dick asked. “I hardly got a scratch during the whole thing.” He shuffled round and touched Jason’s shoulder. “I can try to ease out the kinks for you, if you want?”

“Dick, you don’t remember some of the best films of the past fifty years, do you expect me to believe you remember how to give a therapeutic massage?”

“I was just going to guess. It can’t be that hard, right?”

Jason sighed. “You're going to nag me until I say yes, aren’t you?”

Dick rested his chin on Jason’s good shoulder. “Yep.”

Jason huffed and swung himself face-down onto the bunk, laying his cheek on his arm and shutting his eyes. “Break me and I will make you regret it, pretty boy.”

Dick shifted until he was straddling Jason’s hips and whoa, he really didn’t think this through. His doubts went out the window though, as Dick’s talented fingers dug into his aching muscles – either he was a complete natural genius at this [possible] or some part of his mind remembered the action and it filtered back as he did it. Jason felt himself melting under the touch. It hurt as Dick massaged the knots from the muscles around his shoulder blade, but it was a sweet kind of pain that resulted in a wonderful ease in tension.

“Ok, Jay?” Dick asked softly

Jason made a pleased noise - in truth he felt better than OK, like he was gathering back pieces of his scattered self. Dick worked quietly and thoroughly, his touch either firm or soothing. It was sensual but not sexual and Jason had never felt so at ease with his older brother. All the tension and the fear from the days events fell away as he drifted into the first relaxed sleep he he’d had in months.


( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 11th, 2012 08:15 pm (UTC)
Glad to see more from this fic! What Jason did was brutal, even for him- but I get it. Between him losing control and Dick zoning out, things could get dangerous. Can't wait for the next stage of the plan and hopefully Dick regaining some of his memories back.
Nov. 30th, 2012 12:04 am (UTC)
Glad you are still enjoying! more coming very soon!
Dec. 29th, 2012 04:32 am (UTC)
Just finished reading all the parts up on ao3, and thought it was AMAZING -- wonderfully paced and gripping and nerve-wracking. Can't wait to see what you come up with next!
Dec. 31st, 2012 12:38 am (UTC)
Thank you so much! there will be another chapter posted soon - fic exchanges and RL kicked me in the butt this past month, but I will be back on track in Jan!

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )