Chapter Text
Jason screamed, the dirt falling heavy on his face. He just needed someone to hear him. Anyone. He clawed his way up, always up. The air was thinning, he couldn't breathe. There was something in it, swallowing down his throat. He couldn't scream. No one would hear him. He was gonna die. He was-
Air came quickly, the darkness around him lighting slightly to show familiar shapes. Jason groaned, his head falling to his knees.
This wasn't the first nightmare he'd had in his life, but by God it was the worst. Everytime it came he thought he would be better this time around, that he would handle it better. Yet, here he was, again and again, crying into the darkness.
It took a while for him to get his breath, the tears not helping much. When he did, he knew sleep wouldn't be coming to him again tonight.
He got up, wiping his face as he started on the stairs. More than once he'd fell after a hard night. With no shoes and Jason sometimes spilling something on his way up, the stone steps could be a dangerous place.
Thankfully, tonight, they had mercy on him, and he made it to the bottom without any stumble or fall. He wiped his face again, making sure the tears had stopped falling as he walked into the church.
Since nights like this were common in his life he had ways to help him through the darkness until sun up. The toys at the back were never picked up. Never. It was at once both endearing and frustrating to a man who enjoyed things to be in place. The train was always the first, Maria loving to make it choo choo in the pews. He found it on one of the benches, picking it up for Maria to find on Wednesday. The hula hoop was next, then the dolls and the bear. The cowboy hat was the last thing he could pick up on his first go, Jason wondering if it would be best to just give Colin the hat. He went for it every time he came, and prying it away from his hands was always a challenge for the sisters. It wasn't like Jason couldn't simply get another one, but the sisters insisted that everything needed to remain in the church to stay fair. If Jason caved to one he'd have to cave to them all. Not a bad idea really, and for kids who had nothing he would willingly give up a few trinkets to make them happy.
Still, rules were rules, so Jason put the hat with the others in the toy boxes and went to get the rest.
It was easy work but long. The toys were scattered all over, and it was like an extended game of Where's Wally trying to find them all. He was on all fours looking for a stuffed cat he knew had to be around here somewhere when he heard someone.
It wasn't uncommon for people to wander in. This was a church, it was open at all times. It was one of the reasons Jason couldn't come in here crying. His parishioners came in to be comforted. They wanted to believe a priest had no issues of his own, that they were there to be a part of the furniture, one who could absolve them of their sins.
Jason busied himself for a while longer, knowing now that the trick to talking to people were letting them come to him. He didn't hide his presence, making as much noise as needed in the back.
The man, since Jason could hear the deep notes from back here, seemed to be upset. Again, normal for someone coming in here. Especially at this time of night. Usually it was the homeless that came in at this time, but when people did come in, those who had homes and families, it was never because they just fancied a chat.
"Please," Jason heard, a hiccup breaking between the mans words. "Please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Forgiveness. One of the trickier parts of Jason's job. By day, it was simple to say God forgave people. When people came to confession they wanted that repeated sermon of forgiveness. By night however, these people were truly looking for forgiveness from someome, and more often than not Jason's words would come to bite him on the ass. When he'd first become a priest, he'd handled a midnight seeker with the usual spiel of God forgives all and if he did the right thing everything would turn out alright. Then, a week later, Jason was accosted, almost stabbed because his advice had lost the man everything.
That wasn't the only time, nor was Jason certain he was better at this whole thing now than he was back then. But he was more cautious. Enough that he wouldn't approach someone unless they wanted it.
Jason walked the pews, again, making his presence known. The man didn't seem to cae. He was bent over the front pew, his hands apart, like they wanted to cross but simply couldn't.
"I just wanna come home," the guy sobbed, more pleas slipping through his lips.
At first glance, even without seeing his face, Jason got a sense of unease. He wasn't dressed like someone off the streets, in fact, he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. The shirt he had on was two times too big, the boxers too, both items practically slipping off the man to show pale skin beneath.
Jason quickened to the front, banishing thoughts that were better left buried as he started on the alter. There wasn't much to do up here. He always kept this part of the church fairly clean. Really, he was using it as much to hide as he was to make himself seen.
Jason had moved on to sitting behind the stone altar by the time he heard a throat clearing. Surprisingly, when he stood, the guy had moved from his seat in the aisle to stand opposite him. Jason almost ran there and then, self preservation wanting to kick in. Yet there was something about this man that made him stay.
He was handsome up close. Unrealistically handsome. He had to be upper class Jason thought, looking at the arms that didn't fill his shit. He was fit, but not to the extreme whoevers clothes he was wearing, and since Jason couldn't see any money or bruises the guy couldn't have been a prostitute.
"Can I help you?" His voice came out even, a feat he really didn't know how he managed because even beneath all that beauty there was still that feeling of something off about this guy. Something more than the fact he was at a church in the middle of the night crying his eyes out that was.
"You can talk to Him, right? He listens to you," the guy insisted, almost frantic as he leant over the stone between them to be heard.
Jason didn't have to ask who He was. He was a priest after all, he could hear the capitals when they were spoken. "Well, actually, it doesn't work like what I mean is that it is not as simple as a conversation. My job is merely to spread His word around, not to talk to him."
"But he listens to you," the guy repeated, his eyes oddly visible in the dim church lighting. "He has to. How else are you supposed to do your job."
Jason tread very carefully here, knowing from experience that he shouldn't fall into some of these traps the guy was laying out. He looked like he wanted someone to blame, it would just be Jason's luck if the guy ended up turning on him. "Like I said, I merely spread his word around. I live by it myself and hope that by doing so those in my care can achieve absolution should they ask for it." He took another look at the guy, the strong legs he'd spied befor hiding just out of view. Jason could probably outrun him. Maybe. He'd give it a good go if it came down to it. "Is that why you're here? For absolution?"
The guy's fingers clenched on the hard stone. "He listens to you," he was starting to sound like one of the people Jason should be calling the cops on. "He has to." Those blue eyes seemed to light up more, "You need to talk to him. You need to tell him I'm sorry. He's not- you just have to tell him."
Jason turned slightly, the door to his rooms only a short sprint away. "I'm sorry but it doesn't work that way. You must be the one to ask for forgiveness, not me. I have no-"
"Don't you think I've tried!" The guy slammed his hand down, the stone giving a sickening creak. Something it definitely shouldn't have even if the guy was a body builder. "What do you think I've been doing. He won't talk to me. He won't listen. You're the only one who can."
Jason shook his head, whatever feeling had urged him to stay before long gone now. "I'm sorry, but I've told you-"
The guy hissed, his eyes turning to pure fire. Jason ran. He ran faster than he ever had in his adult life. He didn't stop running even as he stumbled up his stone steps, not until he slammed the door and had the cops on the phone. Yes it was Gotham and they were next to useless, but they were other people. Other people who would actually take note if he was murdered while on the phone to them.
The guy on the other end must have thought him crazy. They listened, sure, but Jason bet anything the next time they came to the church they would be hissing about the mad priest behind their hands.
Night after was hard. Jason didn't move an inch from the door barricading himself in until daylight broke. He couldn't. He'd never been so terrified before in his life, and Jason had plenty to be terrified of over the years.
He didn't know what was different. Whether it was the guy or just the feeling Jason got from him. Either way, when Jason went back down to start on his day to day life, he kept a wary eye out for that man.
When he woke up that night from another dream, Jason kept to his rooms. When he did services and confessions, Jason looked for that man. It got to the point where he was wandering the streets looking in every face he passed for a glimmer of firery blue eyes.
Of course, as with every fear, it lessened over time. When Jason saw nor hide or hair of him again his brain did that thing it always did and tried to make the whole situation less terrifying than it had been. The guy didn't really have fire in his eyes he convinced himself. If he did, he was probably a meta from one of the other cities, and if that were true then the Bat had probably chased him out. The vibe Jason got too was explained away. Jason had woke up from a bad dream, he was on edge, worse, he was tired and well versed with late night visitors. The emotions he felt at this man were probably wrongly placed. He hadn't seemed dangerous after all, and when Jason ran the guy had let him go. He was just another desperate man looking for answers who Jason had projected his fear onto. That was all.
The explanation worked its magic, and within another week, Jason was back to his old self. He even started roaming the church after hours again. Everything was okay.
"I'm sorry Colin," he said, prying the cowboy hat out of the kids grasp. "You know the rules."
"I guess." The cowboy hat came more easily now, Colin giving it one last longing look before tottering back over to the sister.
Jason followed, leaving the hat behind before he could try and slip the kid it on his way out. The sister met him half way, the two of them discussing another play date at the church that same week. "I know this is a bother father, but the leak is getting pretty bad. If we don't get any money soon we're going to have to consider closing that wing."
Jason knew. He'd seen himself how bad it was. But Gotham didn't care about its orphans. It never had. These kids in the sisters care were lucky they had someone watching out for them because the others, the ones Jason had been a crowd of growing up, they were left to rot. He could still remember now a few of his pals over the years being carted off after dying on the streers. The only reason there they had been removed was because the smell was inconveniencing people around them. If they didn't care enough to pick up the bodies that didn't cause a stench, there was no way in hell these kids were getting a new roof.
"If it comes to that, you know I will offer the church to you. We don't have rooms, and I'm afraid it's rather cold, but any shelter is better than none." It was something he'd offered before, only it looked now like it might become a reality. Not that Jason minded. It was his idea in the first place to bring the kids around every week for a picnic lunch and play in the church.
"I don't know what we would do without you."
The kids left, Jason waving them off from the steps. He watched until they blended with the fog before turning to clean the rest of the toys away before evening service.
He dumped the dolls and bears in their box, turning to get the train, only to watch it fall in neatly with the rest. Jason felt that earlier fear return when he came eye to eye with familiar blue eyes.
"That was sweet," the guy said. The same one from that night. The one that was still in his oversized clothes."I honestly didn't think anyone in this city possessed that trait anymore."
"Thank you," Jason choked out, remembering what he'd told himself. This guy didn't look dangerous, there wasn't a weapon on him. He wasn't upset either, not like the other night. Yet Jason still wanted to run, some instinct inside of him telling him this picture before him was wrong. He fought it back, remembering that logic trumped fear every time as he started back to get the straggling toys.
The man joined him, and pretty soon everything was back in its box, Jason still breathing as well. The guy dusted his hands off, watching Jason out the corner of his eye.
Jason cleared his throat remembering the alter he had to set up for later. "I'd better..."
The guy nodded, letting Jason get a few paces away before saying, "I wanted to apologise. For the other night that is. You kinda ran and I know it was maybe because of me."
"Oh." How was it this man could look both sheepish and terrifying at the same time? It was like being in the presence of the Bat, something Jason had only got the pleasure of doing twice. "Yes. Well, I had a bad night myself. I understand that's not a good reason, but, I'm starting to believe no matter who walked in that door that night I would have ran from." A lie, but this man didn't need to know that.
"Good," the guy smiled, something that was meant to be nice but on him, Jason didn't know. "Look, that night, I know I might have come on a little strong, but I did come here for a reason. I was hoping you might be able to help me talk to heaven."
Jason took another look at his undress. "Are you in some kind of turmoil? Someone close to you passed?" It occurred to him later these questions were ones he was taught not to ask. He was meant to wait for them to come to him, yet, this man, there was something that piqued Jason's curiosity.
"No. Well, maybe the first one a little. Does it matter?"
"Not to me. But, if I have a better idea who you're seeking, a relative, angel, God, I may be able to advise you better."
"Honestly?" The guy asked, "Anyone. I just- I need to talk to them."
Jason nodded, beginning to understand a bit more of maybe not this guys aura but his attitude and dress. They often got people in the church who were seeking the other side, mostly for desperate proof there was something out there. They were often not in their right minds or distant, some so much that functioning daily, like dressing or remembering their manners, were often a challenge.
Jason could understand. Once upon a time he had been the same. "Okay."
"You can help?" The guy asked.
"I can try. At the very least, I can help you lead your life in the direction of God. Maybe through that you can get your answers."
The guy beamed, looking like he would rush Jason before thinking better of it, his arms falling in favour for a wave and thanks. "You won't regret it Jason," he said before running out of the church.
Jason, for his part, just wondered if he could handle helping this man. These cases were hard, and the fact Jason felt on edge every moment around the man wouldn't help matters. This was going to be difficult, made even more so when Jason spent the rest of the evening going over their last two conversations, wondering through it all when he had told the guy his name.
The man came by on a week night. Somehow he had picked the night where Jason had nothing to do. No orphans to see to, no homeless to welcome in. Even his sermons were done for Sunday. It was just him, in his rooms, reading, when a knock came down from the church.
Strangely, and a bit unnervingly now Jason was lingering on it, the guy hadn't changed out of his oversized clothes. It wasn't like they were dirty either, the guy keeping them as pristine as they had been the first night they'd met. Yet, Jason was starting to worry. Twice in a matter of weeks was alright, the guy could have just come back coincidentally wearing the same clothes as he had the first night. But three times, and this time within the span of a week, there was something either really wrong with this guy's home life or he really was too distant to be productive in his life.
"Hope you're not busy," the guy said, that small, welcoming smile on his face. The one that made Jason's skin crawl.
"No, not at all." He stepped out, leaving his door unlocked in case of another hasty exit. "Why don't we take a seat on one of the benches." Since there was no way he was inviting the guy in. He'd made that mistake before too.
The guy went with no argument, sitting himself, almost nervously, next to Jason, like he didn't know if he was about to be kicked out at any moment. Not an uncommon reaction sadly. Jason let the man get comfortable before starting.
Talk, as it turned out, was a difficult thing to get out of this man. He was guarded, much more than Jason had expected from someone seeking answers from him. It was tough to work with, and eventually Jason just had to give up on trying to pin point what exactly the guy was hoping to get out of this session and turn to generalising him. He laid out the common ways the man could change his life, help the poor, the unfortunate, even every day people on the street. "God wants us to help each other."
To which the guy next to him snorted. "Doubtful."
"Excuse me?"
The guy bit his lip, muttering, "Nothing, continue please."
Jason didn't for a moment. It wouldn't be the first time someone was making a mockery out of him. He'd had a few come in here, pretending they were seeking help, only to tell him he was wrong and walk out. This was Gotham after all, faith was always hard to maintain in the face of all this evil present. Yet, the guy next to him didn't start on a spiel, so Jason went on to other ideas. "If you pray, he might not answer, but there is always the chance he will. It might not be the direct line of contact you are hoping for, but any response is better than none."
To that the guy's face twisted. "What if I know He won't talk to me? What if I'm looking for a way around that? Some way for Him to get my message without purposefully ignoring me. Is there any way like that?"
Jason thought again to the night they met, the way the guy had been desperate for Jason to be the one to help him, to pray for him. "I suppose. However, if God is ignoring you, it's probably for a reason. He always has a plan, and, maybe, at this time in your life, he needs you to be independent from him."
"But-" The man sighed, his hands clenching again where he sat. "You know what, never mind."
"No, speak your mind," Jason encouraged.
The guy sighed again, seeming to be debating with himself before saying, "But what if being independent from Him meant you had to do something bad? What if, in His great plan, He was forcing someone to commit evil and they didn't want to?"
Jason felt his throat tighten, his feet steady on the floor beneath him, ready to spring up if needed. "Have you done evil?"
The guy hesitated a moment before his head nodded slightly.
Jason took a breath. This wasn't the first time he'd heard someone confess something bad to him. Hell, he had mob bosses coming in every Sunday and Wednesday for confession. But, usually, there was a screen in the way, or Jason had his phone somewhere near him ready to phone the police if needed. This was too exposed, and so much more monumentally tricky than Jason first anticipated. "Are you still committing evil?"
The guy nodded again. "But I don't want to," he tacked on.
"Then don't," Jason said. "It is so easy to give into the bad in this world. You must remember that we were given free will, and with this a choice to turn away from the road to damnation. God does not turn his back on us, and he hasn't you. Perhaps this silence you are experiencing is merely God waiting for you to change your life to the right path."
"So, you're saying," The guy worked out, "That, if I stop, he'll listen?"
Jason nodded, amending what he thought earlier. This might actually prove to be an easy case. "Also set right the wrongs you have done. Confess your sins and await judgement, whether it be from myself, the authorities or even your peers. I believe, that once you do, things will start looking up for you."
There was that smile again, only, this time, Jason wasn't as on edge as he had been before. There was something more sincere about it. "Thank you."
Jason did the usual after that, he gave the man the church times, the services, and even the times he would take confessions. He gave the usual 'I'll always be here if you need me' talk before leaving the guy alone with his thoughts.
He collapsed behind his door, sinking to the floor. That had took more out of him than he'd thought. But, hopefully, with his advice and the good nature it was received with the guy would be out of Jason's hair and into the authorities by the morning. Although, he thought, later, as he was trying to get back into his book, it was strange that Jason had automatically lumped the man in with the mobsters and murderers of this city. He didn't think anywhere in the guys words that he had mentioned murdering or maiming someone. He hadn't even confessed to a simple bar fight, which nearly everyone in Gotham had been in once. He'd only agreed that he'd done evil, and evil, to everyone, had a different meaning. He knew to some people simply ignoring someone or purposefully being mean to them was considered evil. To himself, yeah, he naturally associated it with the scourge of the earth, but that was just because he'd been brought up in a bad neighbourhood. For all Jason knew, the guy, with his well maintained body and nice looks, could have simply been meaning the more tame side of bad. He looked college age, not that much older than Jason really, so there was every chance he was merely two timing his girlfriend. It would certainly explain the clothes if the guy was having a crisis in the middle of his deceitful nights.
He chalked it down to the vibe he got off the guy. That and Jason always liked to assume the worst. It was a survival instinct at this point. If he assumed the worst then he could never be surprised.
The worst, as it turned out, was Jason coming down from his rooms one Tuesday morning and finding the man talking to Colin. Jason scurried over, heading to the sister first in some hopes she could pry Colin away without making a scene. Yet, when he discreetly told her there was an indecent grown man talking to one of her charges, the sister merely looked over at the man and blushed.
"Dick? No, he's a sweetheart. He's been helping out at the orphanage these past few days. And he always brings his little brother too. Oh where is he?" The two of them looked around until Jason spotted the odd child out. "Damian sweetie, not the candles."
Damian, aptly named, was perched on top of the alter. He seemed to have a lighter of some sort, the candles Jason used for mass flickering on and off like light bulbs as the kid watched. The sister pried him off as Jason wrapped his head around the fact this guy, Dick, had a family. That he was in fact normal and not in custody right now. Okay.
"Damian, those aren't to play with. Fire is dangerous, and even from a candle it can cause some harm. You understand?"
The kid tutted, fleeing from the sister's grasp to snuggle his way onto Dick's lap. "How old is he?" Jason asked. He couldn't be more than ten, and even at ten he was rather small for his age. His face didn't look like it had even heard the word puberty yet.
"Dick said he was nine. Poor thing doesn't socialise much. Dick thought it was a good idea to bring him around, shoot two birds with one stone while he fixed our roof."
"He what?" Now that he thought about it the sister hadn't called to schedule another appointment at the church that week. Not like she had previously.
"I know," the sister gushed, like her vow of chastity meant nothing when it came to Dick. "I admit, I was sceptical too. But then he said you had sent him, and he actually is rather handy with tools. It feels like only overnight he had the darn thing fixed and better than ever."
"Really?" So Dick had said Jason had sent him. He had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, he was overjoyed the orphanage had a new roof. Really. They didn't deserve the cold wet nights they'd been having. But on the other, using his name had granted Dick passage. If he had been a gunman or worse then Jason's name had literally just gave them free passage. "Listen sister, in future, if someone tells you I sent them, could you phone me before you let them in. This is Gotham after all."
"Oh of course," she agreed, before turning her attention back on Dick. Looking at her, Jason would have bet anything Dick could have been a gunman, announced his intentions and still she would have let him in. It was like a spell had been cast over her.
One Jason was adamant he wasn't going to fall for.
He kept an eye on Dick as well as he could through the afternoon. By that Jason meant when he wasn't grabbing Damian down from scaling the walls or destroying the crosses, or even treating a burn he somehow got on his hands he was keeping an eye on Dick. The man seemed to be harmless enough. In fact, the kids damn well loved him. He sat through a tea party when Sophia asked, played trains with Martin, he even wrangled Damian off Jason to play cowboys with Colin, and if the magic wasn't enough on these kids on his little brother it wad like he was a completely different person. Damian seemed to calm down when Dick paid attention to him. He was like a duckling, following his big brother around on adventures with the other kids, and while Jason had said he wasn't going to fall for Dick's spell, the man damn well didn't make it easy.
Five came with a picnic Jason had made himself. He had opted for spaghetti tonight, knowing it was easy to make in bulk and almost every kid liked it. They sat themselves on the worn benches, Jason ignoring the sticky hands leaving their usual prints as he doled out seconds to those who wanted it. Almost everyone did, save Dick and Damian who had opted out of eating altogether.
"It'll leave more for the kids," Dick said, that false smile back on his face.
Jason hadn't argued like he usually would.
After dinner, Jason started on clean up as the sister went into her sermon for the day. Since the kids could never make it on a Sunday, they had come up with an alternate day, and while the kids really couldn't care less, Jason just liked to have them around a while longer. He liked when they were here, it made the place less solemn, less big.
All too soon however, they were putting their coats on and leaving their toys behind. Jason was pleased to note Dick and Damian gathering with them, Dick holding Damian hostage as the kid noticed the holy water.
"I'll see you next week," Jason waved, watching as, one by one, the kids filtered out. Colin gave him a toothy grin, telling Jason to keep the cowboy hat safe as he was ushered out the doors.
In under a minute, they were all gone, Dick too who had seemed to vanish when Jason wasn't looking. He didn't dwell on it too much, he had other things to do after all. Like look up how to get sauce out of green velvet.
Yet, if Jason thought he could try and forget about Dick at all he was sadly mistaken. With the kids, Jason could accept Dick may have a reason for sticking around. He might have grown attached to them, or Damian could have made a friend and Dick needed to supervise. Any of those reasons made sense for why Dick would still come with the kids. They did not help Jason whatsoever when he tried to figure out why Dick was starting to appear elsewhere.
The soup kitchen Jason volunteered at, Dick was there. When he was passing out blankets to the homeless, Dick was there. When the kids came around, when Jason had mass, when he went freaking grocery shopping Dick was freaking there and Jason would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little afraid.
The thing was,, it wasn't like Dick was doing anything bad at any of these places. In fact, he was helping. Within a week, Jason was getting glowing compliments from everyone that had come into contact with Dick on his generosity or good nature. Even at the supermarket they were telling him how nice Dick had been when he helped a woman up from a fall. It was like he was a freaking guardian angel. One that had made it his mission to stalk Jason. Or that's what it felt like.
But that wasn't the worst bit. See, the compliments, the help, Jason could understand all that. Hell, even the fact the guy never seemed to change but no one but Jason found it weird he could understand, or at least make excuses. No, the worst thing that came from all of this was the fact that Jason couldn't stop feeling like he was being played. Dick could be Mother Theresa and Jason would still feel wrong around him, like even the notion of him being kind went against the natural order of the world and it was driving him insane.
He wanted to believe. He wanted to hope that what he was seeing was real. Gotham could use another guy like that. But in the end, he just couldn't.
It was a Saturday when things went from unnerving to just plain wrong.
Jason woke in his bed with a jolt, his hands clenching the sheets, eyes searching the room as his mind shook off the last of his dream. His breath came in quick as he sat, surprised to see sunlight instead of the usual shadows his brain normally woke to,
It took a while for his body to calm, and when it did, Jason headed straight for the shower. He threw his clothes towards the hamper with a hint of fear, jumping in the water quickly like it could wipe away the last of his night.
He couldn't believe that had happened, his hands still shaking as he reached for the shampoo. It had been a while since he'd had a dream like that. Especially one with such, graphic content. Years really. In fact, he couldn't actually think of a time where he had a wet dream of someone. It was just something he didn't think his brain could do.
When he had been younger there had been no one that had piqued his interest. When he was younger there were too many things putting him off having an interest in someone. Then there had been... that. Afterwards, since puberty had been so easy on his mind he hadn't had a seconds thought about his vow of chastity. Yet, here he was, standing beneath a shower head draining the last of his cum away after a night dreaming of Dick. Both man and member.
It hadn't been romantic. Far from it actually. The dream itself had merely been a mounting of frustration Jason eventually let out by fucking the man into leaving him alone. He supposed it spoke more of his childhood that the immediate response his brain had with frustration was sex.
It kind of surprised him when he realised he didn't actually feel guilty about having the dream. He knew priests that would lock themselves up for days if they had even one lustful thought. Jason wasn't like that. Like he'd said, the only reason he took the oath was because he didn't think he would actually have this response to anyone. Now that it had however, Jason wasn't upset with his body. It was just something that happened to everyone.
No, what he was pissed at was the fact that because of this dream Dick was on his mind all day. As if Jason didn't have enough to worry about around the man, now he was going to have to check his body in case an involuntary action gave Dick the wrong idea.
He didn't want to deal with this.
So much so that Jason called in absent to the soup kitchen on Monday. Dick had been there Sunday, sitting like some kind of out of place angel listening to Jason's every word. No one had spared him a second glance. Not one. No one noticed the fact that he was half dressed sitting between them. No one noticed those hunters eyes, or the smile that was just that side of wrong, that side of insincere on his face. No one cared but Jason, and on Monday when he found himself under the cold spray of his shower again he just couldn't face another evening spent looking at Dick. So he'd played hooky.
It was wrong of him, he knew that, but to pay penance for his absence he spent his evening instead going around Crime Alley to inquire about baptisms. He was shut down just as many times as he thought he would be, but eventually there were one or two women of the night who remembered him enough to take his offer seriously. Jason counted the wins when he got them gladly, and walked home with a sense of purpose instead of defeat.
The reprieve, short as it was, also allowed Jason to get his head back in gear. Jason's mission here wasn't to guard or keep an eye on Dick. He was here to serve the people and help them on their way. So, when the children came on Tuesday, Dick and naughty Damian too, Jason was nothing but sunny smiles towards them.
He let Dick and the good sister keep an eye on Damian. Jason had spent far too many weeks simply watching, and he was tired of it. So he sat in on Mr Bear's grand adventure to the top of the church pews, his role as barbie sidekick taken very seriously as they tackled the harsh trials that stood in their way.
He felt Dick's presence before the man cleared his throat, turning to meet blue eyes that seemed considerably brighter than they had a few weeks back. "You mind if I steal Father Todd Matt? I'll give him back, I swear."
Matt took a sorrowful look at the distance they had almost covered before Mr Bear was lowered. "I guess."
Dick didn't wait for anything more, grabbing Jason by the arm and hauling him a good three feet away from any child, Damian included who Jason could see eyeing the Holy water again.
"Is something the matter Dick?" Jason asked, trying his hardest not to wrench himself away. This time for more than one reason, there was something else just oozing from Dick now. Something more than the usual wrongness. He smelled nice too, like something sweet, it was making Jason fight the urge to lean in and figure it out.
"You weren't at the soup kitchen last night." So, Dick had noticed his absence, Jason didn't know what to do with this. On the one hand it could mean he'd been right about the stalking. On the other, they did see each other every week, maybe Dick had just noticed in passing and worried.
"No, I thought it best not to attend."
Dick's eyes almost glowed, the blue captivating, keeping Jason hostage. "Why? Did something happen? Was it-" me? Jason heard even as Dick continued with, "an emergency?"
"No, nothing like that." Not an emergency anyway. "I merely thought it time that I do the rounds in Crime Alley. Many of the working women there don't think the church will accept them because of their lifestyles. I like to remind them otherwise."
"Oh," Dick nodded to himself, "I guess, yeah, that makes sense. So, you do this often? Convert people? Does it, I don't know, tally up and give you some goodness points?"
"If you're implying I get a reward, you're sadly wrong. The church is here to help not to reap benefits. And as for your other question I try and see as many people as I can as often as I can. Whether they decide to seek out more guidance is their own choice. Just like it was yours."
"Right." Dick finally let him go, Jason noting the shaking as his hand fell.
He took another look at Dick. "Are you alright? You're looking a little..." He would have said pale if Dick was anywhere near it. As it was, Dick was looking just as well as he normally did, maybe even more so. But there was something different about this picture, more than just the track marks Jason was hoping to find. There was a manic edge to Dick today, one that been there in their last few encounters too now Jason thought about it. Not as bad as this, but the build had been there.
As it was, Dick looked like he was two wrong words away from reaching out to Jason again. To do what remained a mystery.
"I'm fine," Dick said after a while, his mouth opening to say more just as a shout pierced the air. "Damian!' Dick was there in an instant. A literal instant. Jason had to question his sanity as he tried to remember a blackout between then and now as he ran over to the small boy.
Damian was seething, Dick hugging him close as he tried to get a look at the hand Damian was clutching to his chest.
"Dami," Dick warned.
The boy hissed, his voice almost reptilian ad Dick finally got his hand free to take a look.
"I'll get the first aid box," Jason said, the sight of Damiam's scorched hand following him to the bathroom. When he came out he expected to see Damian fighting again with Dick for his hand. Instead, Jason saw no sign of either brother. "Where did they go?"
The sister blinked, like she too had just noticed their absence. Standing as she was by the doors she should have been the first to see them leave. Yet, "I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know. The kid's injured, what happened?"
The sister wrung her hands Jason seeing the story she was making up to soothe herself before she said, "Well he must have taken Damian to the clinic. Yes, I'm sure he said he was going to. You know father, it's getting late."
He let her make her excuses. He let her take the kids too. Lies as they were the sister knew nothing, and Jason couldn't exactly blame a person who knew nothing.
He tidied up the kids mess sooner than he usually did. Really, the only perk of them going home before their usual time was the fact Jason got to retreat to his rooms earlier than he normally did.
For extra free time in the evenings Jason didn't actually end up doing much. He puttered about for a while, lounging, catching up on TV, seeing if there were any good shows coming to Gotham and then pretty much went to bed. Nothing too big or extravagant like going off to try and find Dick and Damian.
He probably should have. He really should have, but Jason was taking a step back from Dick he was trying to focus on himself instead of the man. So, Jason was trusting Dick to be able to take care of his little brother. It wasn't like he wasn't capable, Jason saw Dick care like any other older brother would when they were together. So, when Dick took off without warning Jason could only hope it was with good reason and Damian would be fine.
He had to be.
Jason drifted off into a fitful sleep waking, just before morning as frustrated as he had been last night and another tent in his sweats to prove it.
He sighed, wondering if he could just ignore it. His body felt heavy as he turned on his front, sleep becoming more and more agreeable the longer he lay there. He shifted until there wasn't so much pressure on his pelvis, dozing lightly.
He felt like he should have been asleep, his mind was certainly wanting to be body too, but some self preservation instinct he'd never grown out of telling him not to black out. His fingers twitched on the sheets as he tried to listen to what was wrong.
He couldn't feel anything different, or smell something. He honestly couldn't hear anything wrong either until he took a concentrated breath. The exhale didn't line up with what he was hearing, there was a slight delay, one that carried on to the inhale.
There was someone in the room with him.
Jason kept his body in motion, practiced calm taking over. He had to think about this, work it out. He listened, pin pointing the man, since the breaths were deeper than a womans, somewhere by the window. If Jason timed it right he could distract the guy with the pillow and barricade himself in the main chamber. One of the main things he'd learnt on the streets was that it took more time to run than it did to lock a door and grab a knife.
He readied himself, slowly reaching down to the quilt on his back. Only for the air to be knocked out of him as someone sat on his back.
He didn't even try and keep calm, he had been sure there was just one. So, either the guy was some meta or Jason had miscounted. Either way, someone was on his back and Jason would be damned if he would let them do anything more.
He bucked, the body surprisingly staying on, but the jolt enough for Jason to get somewhat up. He aimed an elbow back, feeling it collide with the man yet no sound of pain was made, no recoil either, which left Jason nursing a stinging elbow as he reached back to try and tear this bastard off him.
His efforts did nothing. Literally nothing, and after a few flails his arms were restrained in a grip he hadn't felt since he was fifteen and lower body pinned. He screamed, frustration echoing in the air as he knew no one would hear him, would even care that Jason was about to be harmed.
He hated Gotham. He hated it.
"God just make it quick," he prayed, remembering the last time, the agonizing hours of being beaten. He couldn't do that again. He'd sooner kill himself before he had to endure that again.
The man over him finally showed signs of tiredness, his breathing quickening even as his grip tightened further. It was almost painful as a pointed rock had Jason worrying this night was going to head down another way.
Jason struggled again. It was one thing to die, another to be raped. Both he'd experienced before and only one left him wanting the other the next day. He tried loosenig the mans grip, just for a moment. If he could get one good blow to his face then- "You're gonna want to stop squirming Jason. Trust me on that."
He did, if only because he recognised that voice. "Dick?" He'd knew something wasn't right with that man. If Jason had needed anymore proof here it was. But, at least Jason now had an in. Dick had seemed reasonable before, maybe Jason could talk him down. "Dick," he calmed his voice, "What are you doing? You gotta think about this. You came to me for guidance remember?"
Dick's head fell to Jason's back, his hair surprisingly soft as it brushed over Jason's neck. God, this close that smell was unreal, he couldn't believe he hadn't smelled it before. Jason couldn't help sniffing, his body reacting to the adrenaline and confusion of the room the only way it knew how. There was a moan from Dick, the noise vibrating far too pleasantly for the situation on Jason's skin. Dick's hands tightened further, pressing Jason further into the sheets.
"Dick, you're a good man. I know you don't want to do this. I told you, there's always a choice."
There was another rock, Jason hissing at the friction on his front. Dick shook above him.
"Dick, please. I don't want this."
The shaking increased until Dick visibly wrenched himself from Jason. He didn't waste his opportunity, running from the bed to the door. He almost had it closed too until Jason spotted just what was still on his bed.
It was Dick, that was clear, the man on his back, his body shaking as he clawed the sheets next to his head. He was still wearing his ill fitted boxers now hanging off his hips. His shirt however, was missing. Jason had been right about Dick having some muscle, he was like an adonis, his chest rippling under his skin. What Jason hadn't been right about, what he hadn't even guessed at, were the pair of black wings hanging over the bed.
The prospect of Dick being a meta didn't even cross his mind. There was just no way, not with Dick. Those wings, black gorgeous and broken were too otherwordly to be alien or human.
"Good God," Jason breathed, his feet steeping towards not away from Dick.
"No," Dick warned, "Stay." For good measure he glared over at Jason, the eyes alone stopping Jason in his place. The fire he'd seen the night they met were only flickering candles compared to this. It hurt to look, Jason clutching his own eyes as Dick squeezed his shut.
They were there for a while, long enough for Jason's eyes to recover to take in Dick again. He couldn't believe it, Jason was looking at an angel. An actual, honest to God angel.
Elation filled him. The darkness that filled his mind when he thought about dying easing somewhat. He couldn't remember what had happened when he passed over. Try as he might, and Jason had tried, he came up with nothing. It had filled him with fear for years, enough to seek out God, to ask in the beginning if he could be allowed some answer to whether there was anything there. He hadn't got an answer then. He had one now.
He fell to his knees, half of the Father's prayer out of his mouth before he recalled his assumption.
He took another look at Dick, dread filling him as he slowly stood. Dick's eyes had faded, the man sat up now as whatever fit had taken him over slowly came to an end. Jason stepped back, wondering just where he'd put his bible.
Angels didn't burn when they touched holy water. Angels didn't break into a priests quaters to try and rape him. But there were creatures that did.
"Demon," Jason named.
Dick looked up, his eyes back to their usual blue, although slightly more brighter than they had been yesterday. "Richard," Dick corrected. "I have a name, you may as well use it."
"Richard," the demon flinched. "You realise with your name I can cast you out now."
Dick snorted, "Doubtful. Do you even know how?"
Which, he supposed Dick had a point with. The church had sects and within these sects were specific things people of the church focused on. Jason being just a general priest could only handle a confession or baptism. The process of an exorcism therefore is only known to an exorcist.
"I can call someone up," Jason threatened, knowing that just because he didn't know how to do one didn't mean they were always put to the side. As soon as a priest declared an exorcism the nearest man available has to get on the scene as soon as they are able. No red tape, no nothing. If Jason called, someone would come.
Yet Dick didn't look too threatened with Jason's words. "Go ahead then."
Jason didn't, if only because he knew Dick could stop him in moments if he saw Jason as a true threat. There was something else going on here. Something more to a freaking demon sitting on his bed.
"So, Richard, what is this? I was your next name to corrupt? Another notch on your bedpost? A... recall?" Since, now he thought about it that wasn't such a far fetched idea. He'd always wondered why he had been allowed back. Perhaps he really had been a mistake by the universe, one it was trying to correct by sending Dick. If that were true, Jason didn't have much to look forward to in his afterlife. Demons didn't live in heaven after all.
Yet, Dick didn't rush and grab him, instead, his hands clenched in the sheets, his eyes glowing brighter as he begged, "Don't talk about sex. Please."
Jason could hazard a guess why. A demon, one scantily clad and with that aura of intrigue that begged Jason to bend over. Dick didn't look like he was hard, Jason wondered if he even had a cock at all. In scripture, angels were beings without genitals, whether demons were the same remained a mystery for the moment. But, Jason guessed, even if Dick did have a cock, it wasn't like he needed it. If he was what Jason suspected then Dick only needed Jason to find sexual release.
His throat felt dry as he asked, "Demon?"
Dick's head snapped up. "Don't call me that," he hissed, appearing before Jason in a blink, smaller than Jason sure, but his wings helped Dick where height didn't, making him an imposing figure to look at.
Jason stood his ground, "You didn't answer my question."
The fire faded, Dick's blue eyes taking form again. "No." Dick's wings folded in, retreating back to Jason's bed. "I told you, I need your help Jason."
"My help," he repeated. "My help for what?" He thought back to everything they had done in these past few weeks. They had done good yes, but who was to say that this wasn't part ot a larger plan. Dick had been in contact with some of the most vulnerable people in Gotham. Children, homeless people, the needy ad poor. They were some of the best for Dick to prey on because they had no one to miss them. Not in Gotham anyway.
Dick didn't look like he shared Jason's fears. There were honest to God tears in his eyes as he said, "I want to go home."
Jason started, his finger automatically going to the floor, "You mean...?"
Dick hissed. "No. No!" He looked around like someone was going to jump out just for saying that. "Not there. Never there if I can help it."
Okay, well, this didn't make sense. Or, it did but Jason didn't want to think about why just yet, he had another bone to pick with Dick. "You say you want my help and I wanted to believe you, I did even. But then you come here and try to- to-" he didn't know. He had an idea what Dick wanted to do but looking at him now Jason wasn't sure. He could have been killed just as easily as raped.
"I didn't know what else to do." Dick clenched the sheets again. "I almost... tonight. When you told me to stop I knew it would be hard, but I didn't think it would be like this. I'm so-" he hissed, eyes flaring again. "I knew you would say no. They never do. I needed to hear it. I knew you would make me stop."
When looking at Dick not as a demon but an addict, he could kind of see where Dick's line of thinking brought him. If Jason was the only one resisting him then Dick would need that reminder not to slip into old habits. He couldn't imagine what Dick was going through, but he'd seen first hand the consequences of it. Not sex itself, but addiction was addiction in any form.
He took a breath. "You don't do that to me. You never do that to me!"
Dick didn't agree. "I didn't know what you would do."
"I'm a priest, you could have just lied and said you were on drugs and I would have let you stay. I would have stopped you without you having to scare the shit out of me. You know, I'm not even that pissed about the demon thing-"
"I'm not a demon-"
"What I'm pissed at is that you broke in and scared the crap out of me without me knowing why. This is Gotham Dick! I thought I was going to die. I can't do that again." He let out the rest of his anger in one breath, calm entering again as he tried to figure this out. He had a demon in his room. One who was asking for his help. "What do you mean you're not a... wait, seriously?" He'd read about the fall, Dante was kind of hard to avoid when you joined the priesthood. It wasn't like Jason could trick himself into believing Dick was lying to him. Those wings, those beautiful otherworldly broken wings were proof that what was in front of him was a shamed angel. "So, when you say home, you mean?" He pointed up.
Dick followed his finger, a twisted smile etching itself onto his face, "I just wanted them to listen. I thought, since they brought you back they would be keeping a close eye on you. Yet... nothing. Ignorant bastards."
So much of what Dick had said to him was starting to click in Jason's mind. He had wanted Jason to pray, to be the man with his foot in the door, and when Jason couldn't Dick had done his best to emulate, to try and prove himself worthy of just being listened to.
"I can't believe this. I mean, can you even go back?" He couldn't remember a case where a demon became an angel. He didn't think God's forgiveness could even extend to demons.
Dick shrugged, "But, I figured just because it's never happened doesn't mean it can't." Which was good logic Jason supposed. Dick caught his eye, no pretence hiding him from Jason anymore, "You have to help me. Keep me straight. At least until they talk to me."
Why me? Jason wanted to ask, there were thirteen other churches in Gotham, why Jason. But, Dick had already marked his scent so to speak, he'd laid down roots, made a start. If Jason sent him off he was pretty much telling Dick to start over, and starting over meant getting rid of Jason. "You don't attack me again."
"I can't promise that," Dick warned. "Jason it's hard. But, so long as you say no I won't do anything. You just, have to trust me."
Trusting a demon. What had his life come to? "Fine, then you don't bring Damian around anymore." Dick Jason could believe wanted to change, but Damian, that little ball of terror didn't look interested in the slightest at anything but destroying things.
Dick deliberated a moment before agreeing. "They wouldn't let him up anyway."
"So he is a demon too?" Jason had only guessed.
Dick made a 'little bit' gesture. "He's like half. But his dad, yeah, it's probably best we don't incur his suspicions."
Jason didn't even ask. He didn't know how to ask. What did he do in this situation? He couldn't go back to sleep, Dick was there. He couldn't exactly go about his daily schedule, like, he had questions. Did demons even eat breakfast? Did Dick shower? Did he own any other clothes than the ones Jason was starting to suspect were his last victims?