Don't Fear the Reaper

12) Some Call it Trauma, But Waynes Call it Flavor

Jason was never very observant— at least, not by his family's definition— but he had learned to be when it came to Nico.

Granted, back when Jason was still with the League of Assassins, Nico had been slightly more open. He talked a bit more and didn't hide his emotions as well. He had always had a cold exterior, but it at least used to lower a bit whenever he would be with just Damian or Jason— it wasn't like that any more.

Ever since the kid showed up, he had his guard up. He limited talking, avoided eye contact, and most of his communication was done through tapping his foot.

And then one day it shifted. He was still quiet and avoidant, but his body language was less masked. Instead of having to interpret what a twitch of his finger meant, it became interpreting what pulling at his sleeves meant. Instead of a slight twitch of his eye, it was figuring out what made his eyebrows furrow. It should have been a relief that he was getting easier to understand, but instead it just pissed Jason off because of the reason: Dick had somehow gotten closer with him. It wasn't very obvious to most people unless they knew what it looked like when the kid felt more than indifferent towards you, but Jason could tell.

His eyes would glance to Dick whenever he entered a full room, his body naturally faced him slightly no matter where either were in a room, and whenever a sudden sound came, he would flinch towards Dick's direction. All things that most people wouldn't notice, but Jason had taught himself to see them as what they were.

Nico trusted Dick.

It wasn't complete trust, the kid wasn't going to begin depending on him or sharing his deepest darkest secrets, but it was enough that he saw the eldest as an ally.

"Jason," a voice called, snapping Jason back to reality.

Jason looked over to see Steph poking her head into the living room he was currently occupying. "Huh?"

"It's your turn to make dinner," the blonde said, stepping into the doorway more so she could lean on the frame. "You good? I called your name a few times before you responded."

Jason shook his head, trying to clear away the thoughts. "I'm fine— it's nothing."

Steph raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say, 'sure, that was super  believable'.

Jason let out a breath, running his hands over his face. "I just can't figure him out."

"Who?"

"Nico," Jason muttered, standing up from the couch and beginning to pace.

"Don't you mean Reaper?" 

Jason scoffed. "I knew him as Nico before he ever even considered becoming Reaper. If he's here, then I'll use the name, but they're different people, or at least... they used to be."

Steph's eyebrows drew together slightly as she fully entered the room, moving to take the spot he had vacated on the couch. "What do you mean by 'before he ever even considered becoming Reaper'?"

Jason paused his pacing, glancing at Steph hesitantly. He knew she could keep a secret, but it still felt weird to even consider talking about. Bruce had been tracking Reaper for the last two years, and he had always kept his cards close to his chest. He didn't need the Big Bad Bat sniffing around Nico— but the Bat was gone, at least for the time.

"Nico was 10 when I met him," Jason said hesitantly. "He didn't show up on the island looking for work or training. He... he was just curious. Talia somehow managed to draw him there. She fed his curiosity... and also his anger. He had maybe a few months worth of memories, a dead sister, and no place to call home, so when she offered to let him stay for a night, he accepted. And then one night became two, and then three, and then it was a week. She offered to give him some private lessons so he would be safe on his own, and then it turned into him training along side me, and then Damian, and then he was training with the rest of the League."