If Love Could Win (a HBO Max Titans Jason Todd fanfiction)

Chapter 1

     Zooming through the streets of the broken city I grew up in, I find it hard to believe that it's been five years since I was last here. Everything's the same, from the shattered street lights to the starving homeless, it's absolutely pathetic. Pulling into an underground parking lot, I look for the farthest spot possible. After finding one to my satisfaction, I turn off the motor and demount my bike while removing my helmet. Looking around to see if anyone is near, only to find myself completely alone, do I turn my attention to my bike.
"Evanescet." I mutter, watching as the vehicle slowly disappears before my eyes.
Walking out of the lot, I make my way to the hotel nearby. Upon entering the building, I make my way up to the front desk, booking a room for two nights. The receptionist gives me weird looks when I hand her my American Express black card, but proceeds by swiping it and then handing me a room key. Taking back my card, I head to the elevator, pressing the up button. As the doors open, I step inside and press the button for floor eight. Stepping out, I start heading to the left to find my room.
     Room#816
     How fucking ironic.
     Finding the room, I slide the key on the pad, watching the green light flicker. Immediately as I walk in, I drop my backpack next to the bed and walk to the window, pulling the curtains to the sides. Up here I really get a decent look of the view and just how much this place has fallen deeper into the shitter.
Gotham City.
     A place that can only be described as dark and foreboding, filled only with crime, grime, and corruption. This city is filled with some of the biggest freaks and fuck ups you could ever come in contact with, except once you do, the next thing you're met with is a body bag. Is this the most fucked up place in the world? No. But is it in the top five? Yes, yes it is.
     For seven years of my life, this shit show in New Jersey was my home. The fact that this is my first time back here in five years and it's seemed to have gotten worse doesn't give me any hope that things are gonna get better here.
     And now that he's gone, I know for sure it won't.
     From the window I have the perfect view of the exact place I grew up here in Gotham and where I met the love of my life.
     Crime Alley.
     One of the most dangerous places in all of Gotham. Filled with drunks, addicts, and the homeless. Not to mention all of the stray kids running around looking for anything ranging from food to clothes just in the hopes of surviving another day in the hell hole. I remember all too well what it was like being one of those kids, fighting for my life because my family didn't give two shits when I would cry out for their help.
Not like they were there to hear it.
     I hate it there with every fiber of my being and the fact that nothing about it has changed for the better makes my rage grow. But at the same time I also love it because if I didn't grow up there I never would have met my soulmate and gotten the chance to spend seven years with him before he was given the opportunity for a better life. It was a bittersweet day. I was happy he was going to get the life he deserved but sad cause he was leaving me behind and I was never going to see him again. I should have stopped him that day, told him that I knew how going with that man was leading him to his deathbed and how things were only going to worsen from there. But I couldn't because I wanted him to be happy and he would have called me crazy. I loved him enough to let him go and live the last five years of his life filled with everything he ever wanted.
     I look down at my left wrist that's covered by the long sleeve shirt I'm wearing. Lifting the sleeve up, I rest my eyes on the red jagged scars of two letters that have been there for the last twelve years. My eyes well up with tears and I try to swallow my sobs as I wallow in their significance to my kind. The thought alone makes me want to scream and rip my heart out of my chest just so I don't have to keep feeling this pain. It doesn't help that I remember the day they appeared like it was yesterday, the burning and tearing I felt of each letter being written out as I parted ways the first time I met the boy who I would come to love.
     Taking a deep breath, I push myself away from the window and close the curtains. Opening my backpack, I pull out my pajamas and head to the bathroom, being in Gotham makes me feel like my old self. Hopping into the shower, I start scrubbing my body roughly, trying desperately to feel clean to rid my mind of the memory of the little girl that was starving and wore the same clothes for god knows how long, not even remembering the last time she herself had bathed. Eventually I stopped and moved onto my hair, knowing I was making my skin raw and nearing the point of bleeding. Turning off the shower, I dry off and get dressed, feeling clean on the outside but still feeling disgusting on the inside as I did all those years ago.
     After brushing my teeth, I fold back the sheets of the bed and climb in. As I stare at the ceiling, I can't help but feel out of place, that even though I grew up here, can I really say that Gotham is still my home?
No.
     Next thing I know I'm laying on the floor, curling up between the bed and wall. After a few minutes, I feel myself drifting to sleep until I hear my phone chime. Getting up from the floor, I grab my phone to see a text from Violet. I guess I'll answer this time.

Violet

Hey, how was the trip?
Did you get there safely?

                        Yeah, the trip was fine.

     How are you doing?

                                      Fine.

       You know I can still head out there.
       If you want, of course.

            No, it's fine. I knew about it, remember?

     I know, but still.
     You shouldn't have to be alone.
     I mean, you were there for me.
    You know, when she died.

                      Yeah I know, but it's different.
               And I'm not ready for you to see this...
            You know, where I grew up. It's a lot.

     I would never judge you.
     Nev, you are an amazing person.
     Gotham made you that way.
     But I understand what you mean.
     You'll be back here soon.
     Where you truly belong.
     Stay strong and I'll text you.
     Goodnight, love you, cuz.

                             Goodnight, see you.
                                Love you too.

     Violet's right, I'll be home soon. It hasn't even been a full day and I already miss her and everyone else. I'm also not gonna be here alone for long because she reminded me I have to pick up the kid in two days, but he'll be with me for the ride home. I should tell his mom I'm in Gotham but I have a feeling she already knows, so we should figure out a pick up spot.
     God, I'm not excited to see that fucking bitch, I wish she would drop dead already, her father as well.
     My eyes once again drift to my wrist, reading the letters over and over.
JT.
     My throat starts to swell and the room starts to spin. Everything is getting blurry and I can't breathe. I can't stop the thoughts and before I know it I'm pulling out my spell book. Skimming the pages in search of the spell that I should have used from the very beginning. Rummaging through my bag, I pull out multiple photos looking for my victim. Upon finding him, I pull out a box filled with ladybugs and take one out. Holding it in my hand, I think of the actions I want this person to do and mutter the incantation.
     "Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home."
I don't care what this will lead to, as long as that fucking joke isn't breathing by morning.
     Laying on the floor once again, I know I won't be sleeping. I want to hear it when I wake, the news reporter saying he's dead and how there is one less monster in Gotham. My thoughts on overdrive, flashes of memories that aren't mine but are at the same time. All the pain, the light and darkness that fought within him, never receiving the acceptance he deserved. He just wanted them to be proud and love him for him, not Robin. They pushed him, none of it ever being enough for them to see him as being worthy. The clanging of the crowbar pounding against my brain, the beeping of the timebomb getting louder, and my baby's broken sobs echoing in my ears as he starts to head towards the light.
     I don't remember when I sat up against the wall or when I started clawing at my wrist, leaving marks slashed through my scar. I start laughing, I don't even know why but I guess insanity sums it up. Tears are flowing down my cheeks and my laughing slowly turns into wailing. It's too much, make it stop for the love of fucking God! Someone bash my brains out, anything to rid myself of these horrid truths of multiple realities! The guilt consumes me, cracking every rib and tearing every muscle of my being.
     I wonder what you would say if you saw me now Jason.