Dick Grayson one shots

Good enough

Whumptober day 26: Nightmares

Jason sat on a rooftop tossing pebbles down at the cars passing below him. Not the most violent form of property damage, but rebellious enough for his taste.

He heard someone land a few feet behind him and let out a sigh when he recognized the familiar tap only one of his brothers cared enough not to silence when he walked up on someone he didn't want to startle. Jason was not in the mood to talk to Gotham's little sunshine boy today.

"Not interested in company Wing," he said, voice carrying more than a hint of annoyance.

Dick laughed and flopped down next to him anyway. "Being alone isn't as much fun as you pretend it is Hood. Trust me," Dick replied with a soft smile.

Jason huffed.

"Come on," Dick said, nudging his brother's shoulder. "I know you love being part of the family deep down."

Jason gave him an unimpressed look.

"Okay... maybe really really deep down, but it's in there," Dick said.

"Why are you here Wing?" Jason snapped.

"You looked like you could use the company," Dick replied.

"So this is your attempt and making up for how horrible of a brother you were the first time around?" Jason asked, knowing his words would hurt. "You never cared that I was lonely before. Why is it different now?"

Dick physically flinched back, hurt flashing across his face. "I... I," he mumbled. "I know I wasn't there for you then... so I'm going to make sure I'm here for you now." He looked over to Jason, brows pressed with determination. "Look... this family needs you Jay. You have to at least try—"

Jason cut his brother's sentence short. "What's the point of trying if it just proves that I'll never be good enough?" He shot back.

Dick's posture slackened slightly, his brows shooting up in surprise. "What?" He asked.

"You heard me," Jason replied, folding his arms and jumping to his feet. "Whatever I do. It's always second rate compared to you. Never good enough, strong enough, smart enough... never enough."

"That's not true," Dick insisted.

"Yes it is," Jason countered. "Bruce never loved me, he proved as much when he let me die and then proceeded to let my murderer run free. I'm sure if it had been you he would've made it on time."

Dick's face sobered considerably. "You didn't see him after your death," he said softly.

Jason was taken aback for a moment. Had Bruce mourned him? Had he cared enough to be angry over his death... to be sad for the loss of his son? He shook those thoughts from his head. "Why are you really here?" He spat, standing abruptly. He was losing control over his anger. "I don't buy your big brother crap."

Dick stumbled back, tripping and nearly falling on his back. "I'm... I'm not trying to be some saint Hood... I just... just want to let you know that... that you're loved," he mumbled.

Jason sneered. "If you had wanted me to feel loved you should've fallen with your parents. Then my life with Bruce would've been perfect and I wouldn't have had to prove myself. I would've never tried to find my mother... I would've never died," he hissed. Something inside of himself twisted at the cruelness of his words even while another part of him felt justly avenged.

Dick flinched back violently at his brother's words, tears gathering in his eyes. He bit his lip to keep from outright sobbing as he turned and swung off onto the night.