Don’t You Dare
Prompt: “ Don’t you dare say you love me!”
AN: This is a very angsty prompt, and I hope I did it justice.
It’s the sight of him that makes you scream. It’s not a squeal, or a surprised scream, it’s one of horror, because he’s supposed to be dead. He catches you as you fall, and you resist. You resist his arms wrapping around you, his body heat warming you, and each word that pierces your, because he’s supposed to be dead.
At the same time, you can’t bring yourself to break away. You’ve dreamed about this moment, him coming back; back to life, and back to you. You were never crazy enough to actually entertain the thought though. Which means, you can’t help but question your sanity. Are you pushing an image onto someone else? Are you seeing and feeling someone who isn’t there? Then he’s kissing you, and as you fall into that familiar warmth, you know he’s real, and that gives you the power to tear away.
You retreat further into your apartment as he closes the door. You cross your arms against your chest, and when he starts to move towards you, you hold up a hand to stop him, and he does.
You stare at him, taking in every detail. He’s taller now, and more broad, but he’s skinny. You want to pinch him, he’s never been good about eating, always one to get distracted, or pulled away from his food. Apparently some things don’t change.
Leaning against the wall you ask, “Why are you here Jason?”
He tries to catch your gaze but you don’t let him. “You know why,” he says softly.
You shake your head. “I really don’t.”
He sighs. “Are you going to act like it didn’t happen?”
“Are you?” You snap. You’re both referring to two completely different event. Apples and oranges, really. He frowns a bit. “It’s not like I chose to die.”
“You didn’t choose to come back either.” You snap.
“What do you think I’m doing here?”
You let out a bitter laugh, as your nails dig into your palms. “I can’t believe I refused to believe them. I was so damn sure that you wouldn’t do that to me.” He moves towards you, and you do your best to put some more distance between you.
“It’s not like I wanted to leave …”
You let out a scoff at that. “How in the world am I supposed to believe that Jason? We have sex for the first time after two years of dating, and you sneak out of bed while I’m still asleep to track down a birth mother who wanted nothing to do with you, and then you die. How the hell is that not you wanting to leave?”
“She said she was in trouble.”
“She was playing you!”
“Well I know that now!”
You stomp your foot, anxious to get some of this pent up energy out. “Why didn’t you tell me, Jason? I could have helped!”
“It wasn’t your fight!”
“You were my partner in the field, and in life. We swore to never leave the other behind Jason. Remember? We’d both been left behind to many times before. We knew how it felt, and we swore that we’d never put the other through that again. But you broke that promise, not only did you leave right after sex, but you died. I mourned you Jason! I cried for you, and I don’t cry for anybody. I swore that to myself after my father left, I’d never cry over another person again!”
He takes a deep breath. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix this Jason. Because even worse than leaving right after sex, and dying, you find a way back, and you didn’t come back to me. You messed around Gotham, messed around with Bruce’s head, instead of coming home.”
He doesn’t meet your eyes. “I was broken.”
You scream, “You were always broken Jason, so was I, and that’s why we worked. Our jagged edges meshed, two broken people became one whole. And you know what’s the worst part, is that they told me you were alive and I refused to believe it, because I was so certain that you wouldn’t do that to me, because you said you loved me, and I actually said it back.”
“I do love you!”
“Don’t you dare say you love me!” You take a deep breath. “You don’t leave the people you love.”
You shake your head. “No, I’m done listening Jason. You may have come back broken, but you left me shattered.” You stare at the floor. “You need to leave … now.”
You don’t watch him go. You just listen to the sound of his boots against your floor, and the door closing behind him. You listen to his steps go down the hallway, and as you let the tears fall you run to the door. You crack it open to find him there, hands braced on either side of the door, his head bowed. You open the door a bit further, and he lifts his head to stare at you. “It wasn’t just sex.”
You nod. “I know.”
“I didn’t know how to come back.”
“I know that too.”
“Let me fix what I broke.”
“It’s too late for that Jason, I did that myself. I shelled out a lot of money for that therapist, to talk things out, to work through my problems. I found out that no matter how strong of a person I am, sometimes I need help. I’m not a hundred percent yet, but I’m working on it.” You pause. “You need help too, Jason. You need help healing yourself. Because as good as we are as two halves of a whole, as two individual wholes, I think we’d be pretty freaking amazing.”
“She said I needed to let my feelings out, I did that. Now I’m ready to move on, I’m ready to forgive, and I’m willing to try again, if you agree to seek that help. I can’t be your entire support system Jason, not when I can’t support myself a hundred percent.”
He nods and says, “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
You nod, and finally, finally wrap your arms around him, and as he buries his face in your neck, you allow yourself to accept that he’s alive, and that it’s going to be a journey of one day at a time.