The Angel of Death

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

"Where the fuck is Nico?" Jason came storming into Bruce's office just past midnight, still decked out in his Red Hood gear, sans helmet, considerably more bloody than he had been the last time Bruce had seen him. He was fuming, blood-speckled face twisted in fear and rage and sorrow. He slammed his hands down on Bruce's desk, scattering papers and knocking over a framed picture of Bruce and all his sons- he'd need a new one once he adopted Nico- crammed into a mall photo booth together.

Bruce sighed, fixing the frame, checking to make sure the glass was intact. He was stalling, mostly. He knew he'd have to tell everyone eventually- ideally before he left for New York to pick up Nico from his cousin's house- but he didn't really know how to. He didn't even really know how to handle Jason at all.

He'd been there for Dick when his parents died, then when Jason died. When Tim's parents died, when Damian's first hamster died (which didn't seem like it could be comparable to losing one's parents, but Damian could cry over all the hamsters and stray kittens he wanted if it meant he never had to go through losing Bruce). But he'd never been through anything like that with Jason. He didn't know how to handle this- this unbridled rage and sorrow leaking off his second eldest.

"You should probably sit down," Bruce suggested calmly. Jason glared at him for a solid thirty seconds before he conceded defeat and lowered himself into a chair across from Bruce. "I know where Nico is. He's safe. He's staying the night at his cousin's house in New York. He called me about ten minutes ago to give me the address to pick him up in the morning."

"New York?! How the fuck did he get all the way to New York? How long has he been gone? Who the fuck is this 'cousin'?"

Bruce held up a hand, cutting Jason off. "I'm assuming he used his shadow-travel to get there. I'm not sure how long he was gone before I found out, and he's staying at Sally Jackson's apartment." Hopefully with Tim, but Nico hadn't said anything over the phone about him.

"As in Percy Jackson's mom? Isn't that kid a terrorist?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "He was twelve when those charges were placed- and dropped- so I highly doubt he was anything more than a scapegoat. He's fine, Jason. I think he just needs some time."

Jason narrowed his eyes at Bruce, but some of the tension had left his shoulders. He eventually got up and pushed his way out of Bruce's office without a word. Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples. Sometimes he didn't know what he'd been thinking when he adopted Dick, let alone three- probably four- more sons.

-

Jason stormed out of Bruce's office, choosing to focus on his anger and outrage at the fact that he knew there was something Bruce wasn't telling him, rather than the bone-crushing sadness that tipped him closer and closer to the residual madness the Pit had left in the corners of his mind, that he'd never really been able to fully chase away.

"Todd." Jason jumped nearly half a foot at the voice that murmured at him from the dark doorway of Damian's room.

"What, Demon?" He growled. He'd been on his way...well, he didn't know where he was going, exactly, but the important part was that he was clearly going somewhere and didn't feel like talking to the youngest sibling.

Damian stepped into the light the hallway provided, and Jason softened when he saw the red-rimmed eyes and tightness to his baby brother's mouth. "What is it, Babybird?" He muttered, remembering that it wasn't only him who was suffering from Tim's death.

Damian looked Jason up and down, not saying a word about the blood that stained his figure. Instead, he gestured to his room. Jason followed him inside, shutting the door quietly behind him. Damian led Jason over to his desk, where his laptop sat open, a piece of notebook paper sitting beside it.