Black & Red (Young Justice/Batman Fiction)

Chapter 11 & Epilogue

I have to check on him one more time before going on patrol.

I push Dick's bedroom door open and peer in. His beside lamp is on and his laptop is open, but my brother's asleep. He lays on his side, snoring. As much as I'd love to slam him about it, I know my bro only snores when something's wrong. His lungs are still fucked.

I creep into the room and close his laptop before moving it onto his night stand. "Okay, bro, your turn." I grab a few pillows from the head of the bed and prop 'em up, then, very gently, I lift Dick under his arms and move him so that his upper body's on the pillows. The snoring stops almost immediately. He's got his blankets and sheets tangled around his legs and I sit on the end of the bed, sorting them out.

Dick's only been home a few days, but already this place is starting to go back to normal. I mean, Dickie sleeps most of the time, but just him being here changes the atmosphere. Bruce is Bruce again, Alfie is tutting again, and me... I don't know.

I smooth Dick's bed clothes, spread the sheet and blanket over him, and tuck them around his shoulders and chin.

"Mmm... Jay?"

I pause, and frown at him as he stares at me with those saucer eyes. "You're wearing your thermals."

"Yeah." I fidget.

"You and Bruce are going out tonight?" His voice is drained of energy and hoarse, but he manages to sound like he cares.

"Yeah." Don't know why I feel shy about it. It's like it's my first time going out with Bruce, when I was a nervous wreck, scared I'd screw up everything...and excited as hell to kick ass with Batman. But... it kinda is like it's my first time. It's been almost six weeks since I worked with Bruce, six weeks since my first kill, and two since my second. I'm not the little kid Bruce worked with anymore...

...and Brucie knows that. He was in denial after the pedo, but after Larusso, there's no ignoring it.

I choked on my dinner when he asked me if I wanted to patrol tonight.

After all that's happened, Batman wants Falcon to fly with him again. I can think of a million reasons why he wouldn't want me, and I know Bruce can think of them, too.

"Well, don't trip or do anything too stupid while I'm not there to catch ya, bro," Dick murmurs.

I snort and ruffle his curls, and he catches my hand before I can pull it away. His saucers are burning me with their intensity. "You're a good guy, Jay. You do what you do to help people. Don't feel bad about it."

I squeeze his hand, wondering if my eyes are as intense as his. I can't tell, because my vision's getting a little blurry. I feel like a chick on the rag around Dickie-bird lately, and I'm tired of wanting to cry. "Even when I shoot people?"

Dick doesn't blink and doesn't let go of my hand. "You didn't shoot a person."

"Wha...?"

"You shot a monster," Dick says. "He doesn't count."

"Are all criminals gonna be monsters, now?" I ask. "Are we changing our rules, crossing that line?" My voice is calm, but my insides are swimming in confusion and anger and grief and God knows what else; geez, I'm a walking pile of shit.

"No," Dick says; he finally turns the saucer beams off. "Because we'd become monsters, too. But..."

But he doesn't want me to feel bad.

I know. I work my hand out of his, and pat his shoulder through his blankets. "Go back to sleep, bro. You want me to let you know when we get back in?"