BATBOYS ONE-SHOTS

Jason ~ Come Home (Christmas Special)

Chapter soon to be edited. 

Merry Christmas. 

Rated: PG

Voicemails ~ noll & damnboy! 

* * * 

I didn't want to think about Christmas. 

It was a time of year that most considered to be the happiest. Everyone had a chance to get together with family, open presents, watch movies, eat dinner and talk about life. 

I absolutely refused to participate in something like that. 

The only thing I'd ever looked forward to during this time of the year was visiting my best friend in the same spot we'd been meeting up for years, now. Ever since we were kids, running around Crime Alley together, we'd always been together for Christmas. Even after he had been adopted by Bruce Wayne and I'd been put into foster care, we still managed to escape and meet up in the same spot, at the same time. Every year, every Christmas. 

Now, it was all meaningless. 

Jason had been gone for a few years, now. The first year, I wasn't aware until after Christmas, after he'd failed to show up for the first time in God knows how many years. I knew something had to be wrong. Jason wouldn't just bail on me. This was something we would never just forget; at least, I never forgot. I could never imagine something so special would just slip Jason's mind. 

Then again, we were only fifteen at the time. He probably had other things to worry about. Like what he was going to wear to his father's next dinner party, or keeping up his grades so he could stay in school. I was just praying he wouldn't forget. 

Then, when I finally arrived, on December 25th, at twelve-thirty in the morning, behind the fountain in Gotham Park, I was almost heartbroken to find he wasn't already there, waiting for me. I waited for an hour, my breath condensing into tiny clouds right before my eyes, my nose beginning to run from breathing in the freezing air for so long. By the time three rolled around, I was already sulking back home. 

Jason had let me down. I was sure he had an explanation, but I couldn't be bothered to think about it. I just wanted to be left alone. 

I'd gotten sick that night, too. Spent the rest of the week and New Years in bed with a fever and a cold, never once hearing from Jason. He never stopped by to ask if I was alright. He never tried to apologize. He never even gave me a reason to believe he hadn't somehow wandered off the face of the earth. 

When I was finally able to go back to school, I learned -- through fucking gossip, of all things -- something I wished I'd never found out. 

Jason wasn't going to be coming to school anymore. 

Jason was never coming back, period. 

Jason Todd was dead. 

I never forgave myself for thinking ill of him all that time. I blamed him for missing our date, the same date we'd had for so many years. I was angry with him, I felt pushed aside. I wanted to yell at him the minute I saw him for making me wait for so long. 

The next time I saw him was in the Gotham Cemetery, and I was brought face-to-face with his headstone. I knew he wasn't really under there, though; Bruce had had him moved onto the property of Wayne Manor, to be buried with his own parents. The stone was just a reminder that Bruce Wayne had lost a child, giving the people of Gotham even more of a reason to pity the bastard. To the public, Jason Todd was a nobody until he became Bruce's ward. It pissed me off to no end. The only person who truly cared about him, other than his deadbeat father and coked-up father was me, and I was never given the proper chance to even mourn over him. 

That's why, every year since his untimely death, I made it a habit to meet up with him again. Of course, I could never sneak onto Wayne's property, so I had to come to the next best thing, which was planting myself in front of his faux headstone, at exactly 12:30 AM on Christmas Day. Every year, I brought him something I knew he would have loved. I could only start the year after he'd died, seeing as I'd missed the first. 

I brought him his favorite candy, as much as I could afford. Next, his favorite band's newest album. Then, a tiny stone figurine of a dog, one of his favorite animals.  After that. . . I couldn't even remember. 

Now that I was an adult, I kind of found it silly to leave such material things. Each time I'd visited the grave after leaving the gifts, they'd all disappeared. I assumed someone had taken them, and couldn't help but shake my head at the selfishness. I figured it was time I begin leaving something more practical, so this year, at exactly twelve-thirty in the morning on Christmas Day, I brought Jason Todd a bouquet of a dozen blood-red roses; his favorite color. 

I placed the roses in the small cup sitting beside the stone, and I couldn't help but pity the flowers. They'd just freeze over and die in a few days, but at least they'd look nice tonight. I hesitated for a moment before taking a seat on the snow-covered ground, my eyes staring at the dead name carved into the stone. 

I sighed. 

"Jason," I murmured, tugging lightly at the hoodie I'd stupidly decided to wear. It was the first time I'd tried speaking to him. It was stupid, I knew that. But. . . I needed to clear my head. I needed to just talk, even if he wasn't really here to listen. 

"I feel like an asshole," I muttered, scoffing lightly. "I thought you'd decided to bail on me all those years ago." It felt good to finally admit it. "I wish I could apologize to you right now. I knew you wouldn't just forget me, you know? I even thought about kicking down your front door just to confront you. I didn't know what else to do. But. . ." I felt myself begin to tear up, but I forced it back. Jason had always hated it when I cried. I would wait til I got home, so he had absolutely now chance to catch me, dead or not. 

"I understand now, why you didn't show up that night," I continued, almost whispering. "It took me so long to admit that I was wrong. I'm sorry. I hope you like the things I got you, even if they're gone now. I hope you could at least enjoy them for a second or two." With that, I rose to my knees and leaned forward to place a feather-light kiss on the front of his headstone. Just as I was about to stand, I felt myself freeze as something completely engulfed me, blocking out the chilling wind and wrapping me a warmth I hadn't felt in a long time. 

I clutched the foreign object around me and slowly lifted my head, my eyes widening when I realized it was a jacket. A thick brown leather jacket. 

"This sorry sap should've been here to hear all that," a gruff voice muttered from beside me, and I glanced over to see a pair of booted feet perched to my right. My eyes slowly trailed up the body of the man until my gaze focused on the mask shielding his whole face. 

"Red Hood," I breathed, my eyes widening the slightest bit. He didn't reply, his head turning to peer at something in front of me. 

"Those are beautiful," he muttered, gesturing to the roses with a gloved hand. "He would have loved them." I sighed, dropping my head as I pulled his jacket tighter around me. 

"How do you know?" I mumbled, swallowing dryly. "If you knew anything about him, you'd know he hated flowers. He would never play house, or compliment me if I wore makeup around him. I abandoned all those girly things to please him; now that I think about it, I guess it's kind of a slap in the face, isn't it?" I hesitantly reached forward to pull the roses from the cup, but a hand on my wrist stopped me. 

"Don't," Red Hood snapped. "You shouldn't do that." I gazed up at him curiously, sniffling. 

"Why?" 

"I don't think he could ever hate anything you gave him, even if it was something he absolutely despised," he muttered roughly. "He'd be ecstatic you even still remembered him." I hesitated for a moment before turning back to look at the gravestone, and I closed my eyes as my forehead came to rest on it. 

"I could never forget him." 

"And I'm sure he was thinking of you before he left," Red Hood nearly whispered, his hand returning to his side. I smiled tightly. 

I could only wish he had.