Red Rain [Jason Todd]

.50

I started getting a little shaky when I drove back to Jason's place. After finding out what I had found out the way I had found it out, I knew he was going to be pissed.

But it was so more than worth it, understanding why he had wanted me to leave it alone. Thinking about what he's been through...it's so much more than what I've endured, and I know I won't ever look at him the same way I do.

Because I'll look at him with more admiration of his strength and beauty in surviving all of that and treating me how he treats me: like his fucking queen.

How could someone who's been through hell have such an angelic heart, despite what Red Hood does?

Damn it, Jason, I think to myself as I wipe one stray tear from my eye, the other hand still steering the wheel.

And I was such a bitch about it last night. Because I didn't understand.

But now I do, and I want to apologize. God, now I just want to kiss him and hug him until it makes up for all the bullshit he's been through.

Fuck, why do I feel like that?

It's tangling my stomach in unpleasant knots and making my eyes tear up some more.

I don't know which one hurt me more: what he's been through, him hiding it from me, or how much I've changed because of him.

I didn't ask for all these emotion changes! Old Brielle wouldn't have given a fuck and said 'everyone goes through shit', but this Brielle wants to just do everything in her might to make up time for this one man.

Old Brielle wouldn't have been crying over someone else's pain.

When I pull into the driveway, I quickly get out the car, lock it, and run into the house. I take off my coat and and boots by the door again, running through the house to find him.

When I come to the bedroom, I see him laying on his back, ankles crossed while he has another book in his hands. I usually try not to bother him when he reads, since he's always reading a "good book", but this occasion was different.

I snatch the book from his hands and throw it to the side, and his eyebrows instantly push together. His mouth opens to yell at me and protest, but no words come out when I jump on top of him and wrap my arms around his torso, tucking my head in his chest and squeezing him tightly.

"Brielle?" He asks, anger unapparent in his tone.

"Jason." I almost start crying again, my voice shaking and cracking a little.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He quickly asks, voice marinating in worry as he sits up and pulls me up with him.

He pushes my shoulders so I can't be tucked into his chest and he can see my face.

"Have you been crying?" He frowns, brushing his thumb across my cheek, "Where the hell did you go? What happened to you, Brielle? Are you hurt?—"

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whisper, looking at him sadly.

He still has concern written in his eyes and tone, but his words are strained in continuous annoyance, "If this is about Thanksgiving —"

"It is."

He sighs lightly and shakes his head, "I told you, Brielle—"

"Your past," I interrupt as I sit on his lap, "Your parents, growing up, Robin, Bruce? Why didn't you tell me?"

His brows slowly furrow again and this time, they're in anger.

Despite how mad he was about to get, my mind and feelings towards this was set.