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Outrunning karma, that boy
Flashes of red and green and white nearly blinded Jason as he drove, trying to shake the sound of bones crunching and cracking beneath his hands, of the Joker’s laughter as it faded into silence.
He cleared his throat. “Don’t think about that. Just – just don’t think about it.”
The pain in his shoulder fought to pull his thoughts back to the warehouse, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. “Just keep driving, Hood.”
He’s such a charmer
Rain dripped into his eyes and onto the shoulders of his jacket as he ran into the 24-hour diner, tugging the creased leather tighter around himself. He mustered his most charming smile, plastering it across his face as the waitress looked him not-so-subtly up and down.
“Just a to-go coffee, please.”
“That all, sugar?”
“That’s all. Thanks.”
All the bugs and their larva follow him out to Colorado
He dropped the money on the counter, nearly dropping the coffee as a fly buzzed in his ear.
Buzzing lights, flickering and half-shattered. Broken laughter. Bodies everywhere, their faces frozen in expressions of terror.
All except for one.
Ten dozen hearts in a bag, their bodies lying
White-knuckled fingers gripped the wheel of the car as he thought back to the carnage, the death and destruction he’d left in his wake.
He’ll drag them down to Colorado
Had he been a man inclined to belief, he would have sworn the spirits of the men followed him as he raced down the highway. Unsure of where he was going, he only knew he had to get as far from Gotham – as far from Bruce – as he could.
A modern desperado
No, he reminded himself. Not Bruce. Batman.
And he’ll race for miles through the night
The minutes turned into hours and before he knew it it was four in the morning, the lines on the road blurring from more than just the rain as he struggled to keep himself from sleep. He thought of stopping, of finding a pillow for his head and a rest for his soul. But even as he contemplated pulling into each motel he passed, each sketchy little dive where he knew the person behind the desk didn’t get paid half enough to ask him any questions about the blood staining his hands, his clothing, he knew he wouldn’t find the rest he was looking for.
He runs because he knows he cannot hide
Where could he go? Where, in all the hidden places, could he hide from the Batman? From Bruce, his father, his mentor, the person he could never go back to, the one he wished to see so desperately? He couldn’t hide in Gotham, not even the Rogues could keep him from Batman’s wrath when the body of the Joker was discovered.
He’s never gonna make it
He knew it was an exercise in futility, even as he pressed the pedal closer to the floor. He would be found out, and not even the Lazarus Pit could keep him safe when they came for him.
All the poor people he’s forsaken
He would miss the game of cards he’d promised to play with Cass, he realised with a stab of pain in his chest. She’d finished school, and they’d invited everyone for a game night; even Dick was going to drive in from Bludhaven.
He wondered if they’d just play without him.
Karma is always gonna chase him for his lies
A part of him wondered, terrified, if they’d chase after him. If they’d hunt him down, try to drag him back to Gotham, to Batman, to Arkham.
He wouldn’t go back, he promised himself that much. Come what may, he wouldn’t let them take him back to that hellhole, no matter how much he might deserve it.
It’s just a game of waiting
He wasn’t a fool, he knew someone would come for him. The Bat, the League, Alfred Pennyworth himself – they’d do their utmost, and if it came to it, he would have to defend himself.
Though, if Alfred came for him, Jason knew he’d rather lay down and let the man take him than fight against him. Out of all of them, Alfred was the only one Jason trusted more than the guns still strapped tightly in their holsters.
From the church steeple down to satan
He wouldn’t survive Arkham, not again. The question of where he’d end up this time around lingered in the back of his mind, since the first place had sent him careeening back into the world of the living with gasping breaths and neon green vision.
Karma, there’s really no escaping till he dies
There’d be no Lazarus Pit this time, no Talia to force him back, no family to pull the shattered pieces of his mind back into some semblance of a man.
It would just be him and karma, bringing him what he deserved. He was a murderer, a man on the run, an outlaw without a home.
Outrunning karma, that boy, can’t run no farther
The car sputtered to a stop somewhere outside of Boulder, finally giving up after hours of being pushed to the limit. Jason inhaled deeply, drained the last drops of long-cold coffee out of the cup, and left the car where it sat. The tread of his boots crunched heavily against the asphalt as he walked, hands deep in his pockets and head hung low.
It’s the last days of Sparta
He’d lost his shield, had it taken from him from the first moment the Joker laid hands on him. Returning home without it was an impossibility, like the Spartans of old who knew their options were to return as victors, or as corpses. There would be no happy return, no welcome home for him, no celebrations when his silhouette crossed the horizon.
There would only be a prison cell and a cold, cruel death.
Follow him down to meet Apollo
Muscles aching, he pushed up and over the hill in front of him, as if ascending the stairs as an offering, as if approaching the temple of a patron deity, prepared to pay the penance his sins demanded.
A branch snapped behind him and he stopped, tilting his head back for one last good look at the stars.
“I’m not going back, B. I know what I did. I’m not sorry.”
And he’ll brace for battle in the night
Silence weighed heavy on his shoulders like a vest. He kept his back to the sound and his hands in his pockets, waiting, ready for the heavy hand of Gotham’s law to land on his head.
If Bru – If Batman had sent the Justice League, they would have taken him already. They wouldn’t bother with secrecy, with sneaking around after him like some misguided ninja.
He’ll fight because he knows he cannot hide
But if it was the Batman, why would he wait? What good would come of keeping Jason in limbo, standing in the middle of a dark street in Colorado and waiting, always waiting?
Jason clenched his fists, drawing them out to rest by the holsters at his sides. His fingers twitched as another sound made his heart leap in his chest, and he turned.
“Come on out,” he called. “There’s no point in prolonging this.”
He’s never gonna make it
A figure stepped from the shadows, the single figure’s broad shoulders concealed by a black suit that blended into the night around them.
Jason swallowed, the pit in his stomach nearly sending him to his knees as the man stepped closer.
“Hey, Little Wing.”
All the poor people he’s forsaken
It was a cruel joke, to send Dick. Dick, his first brother, his oldest friend. Dick, whose approval he had sought for so long. Dick, who was the first to believe him when Jason said he’d come back to himself after everything he’d done in the Red Hood’s name.
Dick, who stood in front of him as Nightwing. Dick, who’d been sent to drag him back to Gotham, or to take him out for good, whose eyes were cold and unfeeling under the domino mask he wore.
Dick, who stepped forward and stopped when Jason stepped back, who looked him up and down and said softly, “Are you hurt?”
Jason blinked. “What?”
Nightwing took another step forward. “Did he hurt you?”
Karma is always gonna chase him for his lies
He shook his head, frantically, eyes burning against his will. “Why did he send you , Dick? Of all people?”
His brother stepped closer again, hesitating as Jason’s hands flitted towards his pistols, and the softness of his voice was nearly Jason’s undoing. “I came on my own, Jay.”
It’s just a game of waiting
“You’re lying. There’s no way he wouldn’t come for me, not after what I did.”
Nighwing swallowed, fingers tightening into fists before he reached up to remove his mask. His blue eyes shone brightly in the moonlight, unwavering as he dropped the domino on the ground.
“I’m here to make sure you get home safe.”
Jason shook his head again. “He won’t like that. He –”
“He sent me to find you,” Dick admitted, and Jason’s heart dropped.
“I knew it.”
“It’s not like that, Jay.” He held out his hands, almost close enough to touch. “He sent me to make sure you were okay. To bring you back home.”
“That’s –” Jason gasped in a breath, swiping angrily at the tears that traced their way down his cheeks. “That’s not true.”
From the church steeple down to satan, karma
“It is,” Dick whispered. “I promise you, little brother. Come home.”
“But I killed him,” Jason cried, the words tearing out of his chest in a raw admission of burning guilt, underlaid with the feeling of a terrible freedom. Freedom from the laughter, from the taunting, from the horrors that man had unleashed upon them all. “I killed the Joker.”
Dick swallowed, nodded, features free from judgement. “I know.” He took a step closer, close enough to put a steady hand on Jason’s wrist, to pull Jason’s hand away from where it gripped his gun. “I don’t care, and neither does B. We just want you to come back, Jay. Come home.”
There’s really no escaping till he dies
He did fall to his knees then, sobs ripping out of his throat with enough force to set his shoulders shaking. Dick fell with him, catching him before he could hit the ground and pulling him close.
“It’s alright, Jay. It’s all going to be okay now.”
He nodded against his brother’s shoulder, feeling the weight of years and years of fear, of guilt that had trapped itself so deep in him that he’d thought it would never leave start to lift away. There, kneeling in the middle of a street in Colorado with rainwater soaking through the knees of his trousers and his brother’s voice in his ear, he finally dared to let himself believe the words Dick whispered.
“It’s going to be okay.”