The Red Ghoul

ARC II: PART II

Dick's eyes widened, jaw dropped, and his body, seemingly unable to bear the weight of the revelation, succumbed to the shock. With an almost theatrical flair, Dick Grayson, the former acrobat and seasoned crimefighter, fainted on the spot.

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Jason's eyes lingered on the prone form of Dick Grayson, his older brother who lay sprawled on the floor as if the very sight of Jason had robbed him of his strength. A sigh escaped Jason's lips, a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He had anticipated some level of shock and surprise, but Dick's dramatic reaction had surpassed even his expectations. The corners of Jason's lips curled into a wry smile as he mused over the predictability of Dick's response. Fainting at the sight of his supposedly deceased younger brother seemed like a classic Dick Grayson move. It was, in its own way, oddly comforting for Jason. Despite the tumultuous past and the complexities of their relationship, some things remained unchanged – like Dick's flair for the dramatic.

Damian, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow, his expression portrayed his lack of amusement. He was unimpressed by the theatrics on display, his sharp eyes locked on Dick's unconscious form. Damian had always been one to maintain composure, even in the face of the unexpected. Meanwhile, Billy, still adjusting to the dynamics of the Wayne family, turned to Jason with genuine concern etched across his features. His worry manifested in the furrow of his brows and the softness in his eyes as he inquired, "Do you think he's okay?"

Jason, accustomed to the theatrics of his adoptive family, let out another sigh, this one tinged with fond exasperation. "He'll be fine," Jason reassured Billy. "Dick's just being his usual drama queen self. Give him a moment to recover from the shock."

Jason sighed and knelt to collect his unconscious brother, before carrying him towards the living room. Alfred's entrance into the living room was perfectly timed – or perhaps, in this case, perfectly untimed. His inquiry about the commotion brought him face to face with the unexpected scene: Jason laying down the unconscious form of Dick on the sofa. The exclamation that escaped Alfred's lips was a mixture of astonishment and disbelief, punctuated by a sharp, "What was going on?"

The old butler stood frozen, his eyes widening at the sight before him. His beloved grandson, whom he had presumed to be lost forever, was not only alive but also standing right in front of him. "M-Master J-Jason?" Alfred stuttered, his voice trembling with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and the overwhelming rush of emotions.

Jason, despite the casual demeanor he often wore like armor, couldn't help but feel a lump form in his throat at the sight of Alfred's reaction. The stiffness of his smile betrayed the emotions swirling within him. "Hey, Alfie," he greeted, the words carrying a weight of years lost and aching for reconciliation. "It's good to see you again."

As Alfred processed the reality of Jason's presence, the shock slowly transformed into a flood of emotions that played across his features. The initial disbelief gave way to a profound joy, tinged with a hint of sorrow for the lost years. In a heartbeat, Alfred crossed the room, his pace quickened by the unspoken need to close the distance between himself and the grandson he had mourned. The warmth of the hug lingered in the air as Jason and Alfred pulled back. Alfred's eyes, misty with unshed tears, reflected the myriad emotions that surged within him – relief, joy, and the pain of the years they had lost. Jason, for his part, held a mix of gratitude for the acceptance he found and remorse for the pain his absence had caused.

Jason took a moment to compose himself, his gaze turning to the familiar surroundings of the Wayne Manor. The antique furniture and elegant decor seemed both unchanged and oddly distant. "Alfie," Jason began, his voice carrying a weight that went beyond casual conversation, "I never wanted to disappear like that. But I had my reasons, my own demons to face." His gaze flickered, betraying the unspoken burdens he carried.