Cold-Blooded

Ease

Help me restore balance to your beautifully complex mind.

She was fixing her hair when Jason walked in, an uncomfortable silence choking the ambience of his room. She paid no mind and every mind to him leaning against the doorframe, arms folded as a safety precaution and a look in his eyes that she couldn't describe. It was only when she sat down to pull up her stockings did her eyes move onto him, her face dropping faintly when his eyes didn't meet hers, and she sighed to herself. "Say something," she cracked. "Anything. When you're quiet, it feels like you're―"

"When were you gonna tell me?" Alias tensed under Jason's words and peered up at him. He was still leaning against the doorframe and his eyes were now firmly affixed on hers. "I can't hate you for loving a man that showed you how to live, but knowing that he killed you? When were you gonna tell me, Alias?"

"When this was all over. When that man was six feet under. Not when he's breathing and that with every breath he brings to life my worst fears. When we were far away from this mess, away from all of it."

"You told me: no more secrets."

"Because I wanted to protect you." Alias' voice couldn't help but be lined with steel, and she blinked in surprise when she noticed. "Because I wanted to protect you, Jason. I...I can't beat Sinclair, I never could. And I can't do this alone. But I can't drag you or anyone else into a situation that has nothing to do with them."

"What are you talking about? It has everything to do with all of us. What about Rex―" She shot from her place.

"What happened to Rex I will carry to my grave, not yours. I give him back his voice and they just take it from him again. Did you think I wanted that to happen? Did you think I even wanted him around me after they came back? Rex was tortured because of me and I don't want that to happen to you, Jason." As she spoke she forwarded the vigilante and stood mere inches away when she finished, the expression on her face speaking for itself. Her hands moved to his cheeks, cupping his face and pulling his attention on her. "If Sinclair were to take you away from me, I swear on my life he'll regret not killing me again."

Jason sighed, a little smirk rising on his face, "I know. I'll make sure that never happens." She moved to embrace him, his own arms trapping her in his warmth as he lay little, chaste kisses in her hair. She laid her own kiss on his collarbone before moving back and turning her head to the side, as if she had suddenly become aware of something, and looked back at Jason. It poked a searing hole in her chest and she faltered in his gaze, tightening her grip on him just a little and he frowned. "What's wrong?"

She paused, "...your signature...it's dropping. And you're shaking..." Jason stared into her eyes for a moment and that was all she needed for her to pull him into another hug. She surrounded him completely, his trembling more noticeable as his arms wrapped around her and Alias knew from the look in his eyes that it wasn't Jason she was looking at. It was a shell of a broken man carrying Jason's shattered pieces.

He slid underneath her grasp and onto the carpet with his own arms still around her and she bit her lip in anguish, his quiet sobs muffled by her shirt. She knew what was happening and it was times like this where even her healing couldn't help his fractured mind; her healing was temporal and reversing his past meant erasing his identity. She would do anything, anything, to ease his pain. Then again no amount of love, of trust, of happiness could undo his past.

Jason Todd had died, and with his resurrection in a Lazarus Pit brought back memories not even Alias would wish on her worst enemies. He spilled his past after their sleepless night, told her about his chronic insomnia and how every time he'd close his eyes the night of his death would always be the highlight of his nightmares.