Batfamily one-shots

First, you eat all of my cereal then fake your death for 3 years!

He had thought he had been kidnapped.

He had thought he had been tortured.

He had thought he had been killed.

Again.

Because normal people- and yes, Dick was counting his family in that circle- didn't just fake their deaths for a case. He thought if anyone would get that, Jason would. He knew how many nights Dick had slung himself off rooftops and dove into raving mobs just to shut down his brain for a few moments after he had lost him the first time. He knew how many bruises and how many wounds Dick had sustained as a shadow of redemption after letting his Little Wing fall into that clown's hands the first time. Normal people just didn't.

Jason Todd was anything but normal.

He was half-naked and covered in what appeared to be someone's blood that wasn't his own, and ash in Dick's kitchen. His helmet was little more than plastic shards resting on the kitchen counter, and the gloved hands that were so familiar to him looked like they belonged to a stranger now as they grasped a spoon. If Jason didn't look a half-step from broken, Dick would have killed him.

Physically, Jason was a lot better off than he could have been. He had forsaken the domino mask that he normally wore under his helmet, and dark circles lined empty eyes. Bruises were peppered across his chest and stomach, but nothing that looked too serious or painful. There was a bandage that covered an already-stitched wound on his left bicep. He looked remarkably put together for someone who was internally falling apart.

Dick wanted to pity him.

He wanted to embrace him.

He wanted to wrap his hands around his throat and scream at him.

He chose anger.

                                                           
He chose anger because he knew it was something Jason would recognize. Even after the time he'd spent at the manor being cared for by Bruce and Alfred, Jason rarely recognized kindness for what it was, and after years of living on the streets, he despised any form of pity. But anger was something he not only recognized, he appreciated. So Dick was angry.

Jason gave a smile that was more of a grimace.

"I know."

Dick rolled his eyes almost comically because he knew. It wasn't an apology. It wasn't even close.

"You're angry," Jason states like Dick knew he would.

"Who wouldn't be angry? You came over one day and said, 'Hey, Dickie, what's for breakfast?' Then you ate all of my cereal, and by four you had faked your death."

Jason was eating his cereal now, too.

"Why do I sense you're angrier I ate your cereal than I faked my death?" Jason asked around a mouthful of Froot Loops.

              
Dick sent him a glare that Bruce would have envied.

"They're equal. You left me to deal with Bruce."

Jason gave him a crooked smile that said he was slowly coming back.

"That was three years ago."

"Then you better add ice cream to the list."