Batfamily Oneshots

Jason Alone- Jason Todd

{A//N: This is loosely inspired and based on the chorus of Sonya Alone from Natasha, Pierre, And The Great Comet Of 1812. Thanks a lot, TesserPhantom for getting me into the fandom last summer lol. With that being said, I hope you guys like it.}

As hard as it was following the days after I returned, well, technically, I didn't return. I couldn't. I don't remember much about what happened during the process, but I remember the pain when I awoke in the Lazarus Pit.

Confusion. Chaos. Anger. Resentment. Revenge.

I felt it, and I couldn't help it.

You can't imagine the feeling of hurt and betrayal when I discovered that Bruce didn't kill the Joker for what he did to me.

I was his son! How could he NOT have avenged me?? Did I mean so little to him?

Dick didn't even mourn. Bruce didn't either. I doubt Alfred did, I caused too much trouble for him.

I bet they're glad I'm gone.

Tonight, was one of those nights where I was feeling particularly low, and decided to visit my grave. I don't know why, I just wanted to see what it was like. That's when I saw her.

"____." I whispered under my breath in surprise.

I watched from a safe distance, hiding my face in my jacket while trying not to seem suspicious. Thankfully, it was windy out today.

She had changed. ____, my childhood friend. Her hair was (longer / shorter) now, and messy in the wind. She wasn't wearing a jacket either. She had something in her hands, but I couldn't tell what it was at first.

It wasn't until she knelt down that I realized she was bringing flowers to my grave. I felt a pang in my heart seeing her like this. I didn't have to see her face to know she wasn't doing well.

She seemed so much different now, wait, she's crying.

You've no idea how badly I want to run to her, and let her know that I'm alive and well...

But I can't. It's too dangerous, so instead, I clenched my fists and my jaw, resisting the protective urge to run to her.

I miss her.

I don't think I realized it back then, but I remember when we were ten, and she would bring over plates of food for me to eat. She wouldn't leave until she made sure I had eaten and gotten my fill, granted, she didn't do it often. Her family wasn't exactly well off either, but her parents made it clear that what they did have, they would share. They would even let me shower at their place because the water was shut off at mine. I think it's little things like that, that made me tell myself, "I'm gonna marry her one day." We grew up on the rougher side of town, but she never let that stop her kind heart. Yeah, she was tough, but she was also gentle.

It was odd to see her now, five years later. When she turned around, her once bright eyes were dull, puffy, half-lidded, and they seemed empty. She seemed empty. She was mumbling something under her breath, and that's when I vowed to watch over her.

She laughed randomly, walking away with her hands at her side, glancing over her shoulder at the grave before continuing on her way.

This is my fault. I broke her.

Months later, I had been following her around and getting to know her routines and schedules. If I couldn't be with her physically, I would make sure she was safe and taken care of.