Chapter Text
You park the car just outside the building, your hands are sweating around the steering wheel, your breath is labored and your heart is pumping inside your ears. But you are not scared. Your unsteady heart knows that you are about to see him and it’s just as excited as you are. You are not scared, how could you? You are going to see him, you are thrilled.
He is in his cell, dead bored as always. The sound of a ball bouncing off the wall and back to his hand, is the only way he has to distract himself.
His mind is elsewhere, in an apartment in Gotham city, third floor, door B. At the end of the halfway, on the left, right next to the kitchen, was the living room. Big windows, two sofas in front of the TV. One of the sofas was red, it was the comfiest one, they had soon discovered. Right there's where Jason was right now. On the red sofa, his back against the soft pillows, his hands grabbing your hips while your hands play with the strands of his hair. Your soft lips caress his own in a sweet dance of tongues and teeth that brings a warm sensation to his chest by the mere thought.
The ball hits the wall harder. He rewinds the memory over and over again as if maybe, he could transport there if he tries hard enough. But he knows it´s impossible, he has already tried.
The ball hits the wall harder than intended and hits him on its way back. He groans in more annoyance than pain.
A guard hits his cell bars “Todd, you got visit”
Jason chuckles as if that was the best joke ever. It wasn’t, he once heard one about 9/11 that was better than this one. “Me? Jason Todd? I don’t think so, Chuck.” The guard’s name was, in fact, not Chuck.
Not-Chuck growled “Think again, Todd. If you don’t get your ass out here right now I´ll have to go tell the pretty lady waiting for you that you don’t wanna see her. What a shame cause she is a pretty one, maybe I could console her-”
Jason steps out of the cell before he finishes the sentence, bumping his shoulder against his on the way out.
A pretty lady wants to see him? His steps become faster, rushing to the visitors room. He has this feeling in his chest, but it can’t be. It can’t, can it?
He enters the room, his eyes racing as he scans the room. Then his gaze falls upon a figure he knows a little too well.
God, he could recognize the shape of that body with his fingertips in a dark room even if he was completely deaf and blind. He has dreamed of that body. His fingertips itched with the need of touching that skin again.
You feel an intense gaze in your nape. When you turn your head your eyes meet his and the whole world stops, as if it too, was waiting to see what will happen next. Jason walks towards you, your heart beats faster and when he is standing next to you…
“What the hell are you doing here?”
You swear you could hear your heart break like shattered glass. He did not look happy to see you. Why wasn’t he happy? Was he mad at you? What had you done?
“Hey, Jason.” your smile is soft and warm, way too sweet for a place like that, Jason thought. In the past, he would have gone to war for that smile.
What the hell, he would go to war for that smile right at this moment. He clears his throat and repeats his question. Your demeanor falls slightly, it would have gone unnoticed if Jason didn’t know you like he does.
You bite your lip before speaking, a habit you have when you are feeling nervous or insecure. Jason never wants you to feel that way, not with him. “I… I came to see you.” you smile again, this time is a sheepish smile. “To see if everything was alright. Is everything alright? How have things been? Are you okay?”
You have asked a lot of questions, but the only one that matters is that one that comes out as a reluctant whisper. Like you are scared of his answer. Are you okay?
Jason was still standing in front of the table, the seat bench against his knees but he wouldn’t sit down. He is afraid his knees would buckle down and he will find himself lapping against your legs.
“I’m fine. You didn’t have to come.”
“But I wanted to. Sit down.” your tone is low and calm. He knows it’s not an order, but he still complies. “How have things been going on here? Is the food okay?”
Jason crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs his shoulders to your questions “It’s alright, the type of food you would expect in a prison.”
You seem slightly taken aback by his nonchalant and distant attitude. You pretend you didn't notice how he had deliberately avoided answering your question about how everything is going, not one but twice. You decide to not press the matter further and ask something else.
Your face cheers up. “Have you received my letters?” Your voice is hopeful, eager almost.
Jason can’t even look you in the eye. His jaw clenches and he lowers his head in silence.
“Jason, have you at least read them?” More silence. You start feeling angry. “Did you even open them?”
Jason turns his head to a side, but you know him as well as he knows you. Jason might be able to appear emotionless and mask his feelings to everyone else, but not to you. You could read him like an open book, as much as that bothered him sometimes. That’s why you are quick to find the embarrassment and shame in his eyes.
He hadn’t even opened your letters .
“Jason, are you serious? Do you seriously don´t even have the heart to open my letters? Have you even kept them or did you just threw them in the trash?”
Jason finally looks you in the eye, resignation painted on his face as if he were offended by your accusation.
“Throw them away? How can you think such a thing?” he raises his voice, uncrossing his arms and looking deeply offended, almost hurt.
“You abandoned me, Jay!” The nickname hurts him like a punch in the gut “You left and didn’t bother to say goodbye. You know how I felt when I found out you had been imprisoned for the news? The fucking news, Jason. I had to find out by watching the freaking news.”
“Now you’re surprised that I thought you threw my letters in the trash? What do you want me to think if you haven’t given me any sign of life?” your voice is tinted with anger .“I’ve written to you everyday and you never wrote back. So I thought to myself that maybe you were adapting to life in prison. Then the first two weeks went by and still no sign of you. Maybe life in prison was harder than you had expected. So again, I was patient. And then a whole month went by and I was now concerned.”
“So I come here, expecting to surprise my boyfriend, check on him and let him know that I miss him and that I love him, and I found out you never even open my letters!”
The absolute despair and heartbreak in your voice throws him off balance. He is the reason for that crack in your voice, of that sadness etched to your voice, of that pain that fills your beautiful eyes. He is the reason for your pain and knowing it doesn’t make the guilt more bearable. The only thing he wants to do is get on his knees and beg you to forgive him. He wishes he could kiss away the rebel tears that are falling down your cheeks, staining your soft skin. To cradle you in his arms and tell you how much he loves you, to remind you that there´s nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for you, for your smile. He could make you feel safe again, happy again. He could keep you close to his chest, so you could hear his heartbeat and you’ll know that he is sincere. He would take you away and make love to you until there wasn’t a single doubt in you that he doesn’t love you as much as he does.
He would, if he was another man. A better man. But he isn’t. He is a selfish bastard who just got lucky enough to make the most gorgeous woman fall for him. But he can’t be that man, he can’t be selfish with you and do all those things that would make you smile, but would eventually cause you more pain, because that´s what Jason Todd does. He only brings pain to his loved ones. So he doesn’t do any of those things. Instead he swallows all the unsaid words that are drowning him on earth and with the coldest stare he can manage to pull out, he looks at you and shrugs his shoulders, like he doesn’t care.
Please, forgive me, angel. Try not to hate me too much.
“You shouldn’t have come.” It’s all he says. Just those four words manage to break your heart.
“That´s all you got to say?” your voice comes out like a broken sob. You lower your head, defeated. Then you pull out that smile that breaks his heart: the one you use when you´re trying not to cry. “I guess that pretty much sums it all. Don´t worry, Jason. I won´t visit again. And about the letters, I now understand you have no interest in them. I won’t write to you again.” you use your hands to pull yourself back on your feet. “Goodbye, Jason.” you turns around and walks out, not turning once, afraid you might break. And you can’t let him see you cry.
Jason is left there, sitting by the empty table, wondering if he did the right thing. He knows he did, then why does it feel like he is lacking air?
Not-Chuck pats his shoulder, chuckling “It’s okay, mate. It’s not your fault. A chick like that must already have a line of men waiting for her to be available, she just needed an excuse to dump you. What’s your bitch´s name? Sorry, ex-bitch-”
Jason´s fist impacts against his jaw before he can finish the sentence. Before really considering the consequences of his actions —which will not be a few— Jason was already over Not-Chuck, his fist connecting to his face over and over again, like two magnets attracting each other.
Jason was absolutely unhinged, just one thought inside his mind: shut him up. Hearing that poor idiot talk that way about you had got him seeing red.
He had always been violent, not in the abuser way, more like in the stay dog who are always reactive and alert. But people never understood that about him or didn’t stick around long enough for him to explain. But you did. You never judged him. You listened to him, cared for him and even did something he had thought impossible: loved him.
You loved him as much as he loves you and that will never fail to amaze him. He knew you loved him, not because you were always telling him, but because he could feel that love.
He could feel it when you kept food for him at night when he returned from the vigilance, when you called him things like “love”, “sweetheart” and other things he pretended to hate but secretly loved. He could feel your love when you agreed to watch movies that he liked even though they bore you. He could feel it when you were always so patient with him even when he was being an asshole, and he could feel it after he apologized and you kissed his worries away. When you listen to him and hold him when he felt like he was falling apart.
He knew you loved him. God, your love was almost palpable.
That’s why he had to keep you away from him. He knew it was cliché, that he sounded like the main character of a cheesy book, but Jason lived a dangerous life. And he was okay with it, until you arrived. He had thought about leaving that life behind, but it was easier said than done.
He had dreamed about leaving that lifestyle and just being with you. No more Jason Todd, the vigilante, just Jason Todd, your boyfriend. Perhaps more than a boyfriend with time.
But it was already too late. His sins had finally caught him and he was paying the price. He was okay with it, he knew he deserved it, but not when you would suffer from it as well.
He can feel how Not-Chuck stops resisting as his body goes limb. That only makes it easier to beat him down. He is still breathing, just too beaten. The perfect state.
Jason grabs the folds of the guard´s uniform and brings him closer to his face “You keep her out of your filthy mouth, bastard. If I hear you pronounce her name with that disgusting tongue of yours, I’ll rip it off, do you hear me? You understand!?”
Not-Chuck manages to nod slightly as he feels a pair of strong arms grip him and pull him away. Jason fights them, like a wild animal desperate to break free. You’re not even there, and he’s defending you tooth and nail.
The guards pull him away, leaving the beaten man on the floor, barely breathing. Jason looks like a feral animal and the guards are forced to use a taser on him. The electric discharge hits him on the neck, running down all his system. He groans in pain and the guards are able to drag him —screaming and cursing— back to his cell.
Once inside the guards take their time reminding him why attacking a guard is a bad idea. After they all feel satisfied, he is left there completely beaten down. He has a black eye, broken lip and is coughing blood. Yet, he manages to smile through bloodied teeth.
He has zero regrets. And if he could go back in time, he would do it again.
***
You arrive home. As soon as you are back into the safety of your house you throw your stuff on the floor and storm into your room. You are not sure if you are angry or heartbroken. It doesn’t matter because it still hurts.
Is it possible to die from a broken heart?
You’ll find out.