My Ghost

twenty

The next morning is quiet, and seeing as Bruce and Alfred insist I stay at the manor a while, I spend it roaming around the grounds. I called my father early on, apologizing for my absence but assuring him I am alive and well. Scratch that, assuring him I'm alive.

I pull my coat closer to my body as I walk around the grounds, my eyes examining every tree and every stone. Perhaps I'm paranoid, constantly looking for landmarks or escape paths, but I have yet to feel safe anywhere.

I approach the small graveyard where Jason had been buried, and shockingly I find him standing there, staring. I watch him quietly for a moment, but he does not move.

"Jason?" I ask, pushing open the metal gate and entering the solemn graveyard. Snow covers the grass in a light blanket, and I see one grave has been brushed off carefully- his.

"Hey, Ray," he says quickly, I probably startled him.

"What're you doing?"

"Just looking for some time to myself," he answers.

"Do you want me to leave?" I offer.

"No, no," he replies instantly. "I don't mind."

We stand in silence for a moment, and I'm brought back to the nights I came and just sat in front of his grave and spoke to him. I told him everything.

"You didn't come back to bed last night," he states, glancing over at me.

I avoid his gaze and shrug. "I couldn't sleep, just went for a walk around the mansion."

Jason nods. "I understand." He pauses, thinking of what to say next. "Ray, I don't plan on staying here another night. I have my own headquarters, my own place to stay."

"So we're going there?" I ask, hopeful.

Jason shakes his head. "Ray, I want nothing more than to be together in a place of our own. But right now... I think it's best if you stay here. Bruce has the supplies to take care of you, he has the resources to make sure that you're healthy and taken care of. I don't, not in the same capacity."

"I'm fine now, Jay," I tell him. "I don't want to stay here without you. It already kills me knowing I can't be out at night hunting that son of a bitch down. You can't ask me to stay here by myself and sleep soundly at night, that's not going to happen."

"I don't have much of a choice, Ray," he snaps at me. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "I'm sorry, I'm not upset with you. Bruce... he's not budging on this. I can't change his mind here, and I don't see a point in fighting him over it."

"Fight for me Jason," I plead, stepping closer to him, "Or I will."

"I just want you to be safe, and right now? That's not with me. Trust me, please."

I don't respond, I just allow my eyes to drift back to his grave. There's absolutely no way I'm just going to sit in the manor every night knowing that Jason is out there, Bruce and Dick even, hunting down my captor. Black Mask is my problem, my nightmare, my responsibility. I am going to be the one to kill him.

They're not going to let me leave, though. Part of me feels like they'll try and keep me off the streets forever. It won't work. I will kill Black Mask and everyone who may stand in my way.

"I used to come here every night," I tell him quietly, trying to alter my thoughts. They were growing too dark.

"What?"

"Every night I would sit right there," I point to a spot behind his gravestone, a small patch of grass dusted with snow. "I'd rest my head on your gravestone and just talk. You were a good listener," I joke, smiling slightly to myself. "I could almost convince myself you were still here sometimes. I could have sworn I heard your voice every now and then."

"I recommend you don't find your grave," Jason replies grimly. "It does nothing but cause you pain. But that story, that's the only thing I've heard about this damned thing that hasn't. Maybe it's selfish of me to love it, knowing how much you must have hurt, but I love it anyway. I love that you remembered me. I love that you didn't forget me or try to. I love that even when everyone was so sure I was gone, you were finding small ways to keep me alive. I love you."

I step into Jason's arms and hold him close. A year ago I would've never imagined this moment, holding him once again, alive and well, in my arms at the very same spot he was buried.

"I love you, Jason," I mutter.

"Let's go back inside," he suggests, keeping an arm wrapped around me. "It's cold out, and I think you could use a nap."