Chapter Text
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a pirate captain having been mutinied against and left on an ice planet, must be in want of revenge. And yet Jason Todd had not exacted his revenge upon Dick Grayson, his former first mate, last night, when he popped back into Jason’s life without explanation after four and a half years. Instead, they had slept together, as they had so many times before, before words like “former” and “ex” had been inserted into their relationship.
Hours later, Jason fumed as he wiped at invisible spots on the bar. It was early still, most of his regulars wouldn’t drift in until later tonight, but he usually got a fair lunch crowd.
There were a couple of new faces today. Not unusual for a port town, but they always set Jason on edge. These two didn’t seem to be causing any trouble at least. They had ordered their drinks politely, paid in full without trying for credit, hadn’t hassled his regulars, and seemed to be minding their own business. One seemed to be drawing or reading. The other was tinkering with some sort of homemade electronic thing. Jason just hoped he didn’t scorch the table.
But even a couple of strangers couldn’t fully distract Jason from last night. He didn’t know who he was more upset with. Probably himself, honestly. Dick had behaved more or less as he would have expected. His own behavior, however, had been far from anticipated. He felt weak and stupid and easily manipulated. Where was his rage when he needed to put Dick Grayson in his fucking place? Why was it here now and absent when he could have actually channeled it into something satisfying? Why were more of his thoughts about Dick in bed than punching Dick in the face? What would he do if Dick walked in the door right now?
As if on cue, the small bell over the door jingled as it opened. But it wasn’t Dick. It was six men, all of whom were armed. Jason recognized them as locals. It was not unusual for a group like this to come to the bar, and it wasn’t even unusual for them all to be carrying. However, it was pretty unusual that they were all pointing their guns at Jason.
Jason forced his muscles to relax as he continued wiping down the bar. He had a rifle stashed behind the bar, and it was loaded, but he knew at least three of the men pointing guns at him knew about it. The bar-top was fairly empty, not a lot of glasses or things he could improvise as weapons. And the few people seated at the bar were off to the side. No one was blocking line of sight to the door. If they opened fire there were slim odds that he’d make it out unscathed.
When he woke up this morning Jason had been pretty sure that today couldn’t possibly be worse than yesterday. He hated being wrong.
Based on the way they were positioned, and where the shiftiest one kept looking for direction, it was clear who was leading this posse. His name was Harvey Bullock, and he was the closest thing the area had to a leader. He didn’t have an official title like mayor or sheriff, but he had the respect of most people and the strength to keep the worst parties in check. While Bullock was carrying a sidearm, he hadn’t drawn it.
“Sorry, Jason,” he said easily, “you’re on the hook and my hands are tied. You know the rules.”
The rules had always been very clear. Bullock didn’t ask questions. He didn’t care why you were here or what you had done or who you were running from. But when whatever it was caught up with you, he wasn’t going to protect you. Once you became a burden on the community, you were done.
Bullock pulled out a cigarette and fumbled for a lighter. “So why don’t you put your hands up real slow before one of these idiots gets jumpy and thinks you're making a move for that boom stick under the bar?”
Jason hadn’t told Bullock about the gun, but he wasn’t all that surprised that he knew about it. He wasn’t getting out of here. So now he had only two real options: go with them peacefully or bet that dying here was better than his options with whoever had sent them.
He wasn’t wiping the bar anymore. His muscles were tense as he weighed his next move.
Bullock’s eyes were back on Jason, the search for the lighter on hold. Jason could feel Bullock scrutinizing every detail. He felt like a bug in a jar.
Bullock knew damn well what Jason was considering. “Now, son, don’t do anything stupid. They’d prefer that we bring you in alive and I’d like to deliver you that way.”
Jason chuckled darkly. “I don’t think that’s exactly the reassurance you think it is.”
Just because they wanted him alive didn’t mean they wanted to keep him that way. Jason had been around long enough to know, with a little creativity, there were many things worse than death.
Bullock nodded. He’d been around longer than Jason had. “It’s a Navy bounty.”
Jason visibly relaxed. Navy meant rules. Navy meant regulations and paperwork. Navy meant less creativity.
Bullock sighed like a frustrated parent waiting for a child to put their shoes on. “Now, will you put your hands up so we don’t have to spend the next week cleaning your gray matter off the walls? People are going to want dinner in a few hours and your corpse would really dampen the ambiance.”
The shifty idiot to Bullock’s left took his eyes fully off Jason. “Omm bi what now?”
Both Bullock and Jason rolled their eyes.
“It means atmosphere, ya cretin,” Bullock said.
Shifty looked up toward the ceiling and his brow furrowed. “Atmosphere?”
Bullock rubbed a hand down his face. “Not the sky. My god, why couldn’t the Navy have a bounty on you?”
Jason sighed and slowly raised his hands above his head. “Yeah, I can’t work in these conditions. Take me away.”
Bullock nodded and two men on his right lowered their weapons and moved to the end of the bar. The rest kept their guns on Jason. Bullock finally found his lighter and went to light his cigarette.
“Come on, Bull. At least wait till I’m gone to get ash all over my floor.”
Bullock laughed but lit it anyway.
Jason cooperated as the two men worked to secure his hands behind him. He didn’t know their names (honestly he didn’t know a lot of his regular’s names) but knew one usually ordered whiskey and the other preferred gin. They worked with a practiced precision, and the ropes were tight, but the discomfort was minimal. There was no slack to play with and he wouldn’t be able to slip the knot. Even if he could escape, it’s not like he had anywhere he could go.
No, it was better to just accept that this was the end of a chapter of his life. Jason wondered why all of his transitional phases seemed to be at gunpoint. He never seemed to get to decide when to leave on his own.
He didn’t resist as they led him out from behind the bar and toward the door, but just before they went outside, he faltered.
“Wait,” he said.
Bullock gave a slight nod and Jason turned back to his bar for one last look. This had been home for over four years. It felt like so much longer. But just like everything else in his life, it wasn’t his anymore.
There were still a few patrons scattered about watching him go. The two newcomers were nowhere to be seen. They had probably ghosted once guns got involved.
He forced a lopsided grin and winked. “Bye, guys. Drinks are on me.” And he turned and went out into the daylight.
Jason knew where they were going without having to be told. A Navy bounty meant a Navy officer waiting to collect him. And Navy meant ships.
There wasn’t really much to say, and they were halfway to the docks before he spoke again.
“Hey, Bullock.”
The older man looked at him. “Yeah?”
“Make sure whoever takes over cleans out the chimney pretty soon. I’ve been putting it off, and if they wait too long, they’re going to burn the whole place down.”
Bullock stared at him for a moment and then he let out a full hearty laugh.
Jason glared at him. “What?”
Bullock struggled to regain his composure. “Here I thought you were going to try to weasel your way out of this after all, but you just want to give me your laundry list.” He laughed again. “You’re a piece of work, kid.”
“What, like bribe you?” Jason rolled his eyes. “With what? I was in the Navy. I know how this works.”
It was widely known that only Navy officers could officially claim a Navy bounty. Such matters were seen as internal affairs to be policed and punished in house. There were much smaller rewards for information.
It was much less widely known that most Navy officers used part of their bounties to pay for cooperation from local officials. The officials got deniability, got to maintain their trust from the people, got rid of some potentially bad eggs, but were also handsomely rewarded for their part. So when the Navy came to town, everyone cooperated and the leaders encouraged it while lining their pockets.
There was no way Bullock wasn’t being paid for his part in Jason’s retrieval. But there was also no way that any of the other chuckleheads escorting him were going to see a cent. Jason knew all of this, and now Bullock knew that he was in on the secret.
Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the tiny power trip that gave him. But it wouldn’t do him any good to destabilize the local power structure on his way out. And Bullock, although not an angel, seemed to have the community’s best interest at heart most of the time. He just wasn’t above benefitting for himself along the way. Jason could think of at least half a dozen others who would love to fill a power vacuum and would be ten times worse.
So he just smirked as he watched Bullock mentally reevaluate him.
The streets had gotten more crowded as they got closer to the docks, but one look at their little procession made most people dart out of the way. Bullock was to his right, Whiskey his left, and Gin was close behind him. The other three formed a loose triangle around them, still with their guns drawn and ready to fire if Jason got stupid.
As they neared the docks, a thought occurred to Jason. There wasn’t a dock here big enough for any regulation Navy vessel. Nothing that would be this far out. Most ships that came through were small to midsize transports, enough to jump between worlds but nothing capable of a long haul across the verse. So how exactly had his former employers come to claim him?
As they neared the ships, a bell began to ring, 4 long tolls followed by three shorter ones. The ship at dock 3 was departing, and so their little caravan had to stop as the crowd surged away from it. Jason heard Bullock tsk, and he put a hand on Jason’s shoulder, ensuring the crowd didn’t jostle them apart.
The ship was tiny, and Jason wasn’t even sure if it was space worthy. More likely it was an inter atmospheric transport. As it rose into the air, it kicked up a cloud of snow and dirt that expanded outward toward the waiting crowd.
Unable to shield his eyes with a hand, Jason clenched his eyes shut, hoping to block out most of the grit, when he realized: this was it. This was his last chance to escape. He could use the cover of the dust up and get swept away by the crowd. Surely Bullock wouldn’t let his men fire into a crowd of civilians. He could probably get the ropes off if he was willing to break his thumb.
But then what?
He had already decided to let the moment pass by the time he felt Bullock’s grip tighten on his shoulder. Bullock was no fool. Jason had to respect him for that. He was almost disappointed that he wouldn’t get to see how a chase between them would have gone. Not disappointed enough to risk ending up full of bullet holes, mind you, but still, it might have been fun.
Two bells signaled the all clear. Bullock kept his hand on Jason’s shoulder as they began to move again. Jason tried to blink away the dirt that still clung to his eyelashes but couldn’t seem to shake the worst of it. He tried to force his eyes to water as Bullock pulled him this way and that through the crowd. He was left squinting and stumbling along.
And that was probably why he missed it.
Stumbling past docks 5 and 6, he didn’t really look up at where they were going. As they passed 7, he finally glanced up, and the splash of white from a Navy dress uniform caught his eye. But that wasn’t what turned his hard, purposeful blinks into rapid ones, desperate to keep his eyes open to confirm what he was seeing. Because there, at dock 8 was a ship he knew better than any other. Because that ship was his.
Later he would be annoyed, because being in the presence of a large hunk of metal shouldn’t have rendered him momentarily deaf and blind to everything else. But it did. He had dreamed about the Night Call, more often than he cared to admit, and here she was, just as pretty as the day he bought her. He was not prepared for the wave of emotions that fell over him. It was worse than seeing Grayson again, because his ship hadn’t done anything to him. There was no anger, just nostalgia and longing.
There was a long moment where all thought seemed to stop, and then his brain seemed to speed up, desperately trying to fast forward back to real time. Of course the ship was here. He knew Grayson was planetside. But then a few things all fell into place at once.
They had stopped moving forward.
People around him had been talking and moving.
The Navy officer was standing in front of his ship.
And the Navy officer was Dick Grayson.
All at once he seemed to tune back into reality. Bullock was talking to Grayson, while his men were off to one side. But Jason wasn’t alone. He was now flanked by what he could only assume were members of Grayson’s crew, but he didn’t recognize them. By their looks he was pretty sure he could take either of them in a fair fight, especially the red head, but, with his hands bound, he knew he couldn’t take them both on at once.
What the fuck was happening here?
He had no idea, but he knew who to be mad at, at least.
He looked toward Dick and yelled, “Grayson— !!” But whatever vicious comment had been next was cut short by a hard knee to the stomach, from the red head. Jason pitched forward, gasping, trying to force air back into his lungs. It took a moment to realize why he wasn’t facedown on the ground, but his guards were holding his arms enough to keep him upright. They helped him sink down to his knees where he was at least a bit more stable. Although “helped” seemed like a generous descriptor as they were the reason he was in this state to begin with.
He vaguely heard Dick muttering, “Insults to my mother, Todd? Typical.” What the hell was he talking about? He was pretty sure that that made no sense and not just because his brain had exited his body along with all of his oxygen.
“Gag him. I don’t need to listen to insults to my parentage from a criminal.” Dick’s voice was stuffy and formal and distinctly not like his normal voice.
Jason didn’t have enough air to reply before a gag was forced in his mouth and tied easily behind his head. Already having him down on his knees made it easier to tie. This wasn’t just a quick response. This was the next step. This was part of a plan.
Suddenly, it clicked. This was a con. Dick was scamming Bullock to....kidnap Jason?! Why?!
He grunted protests weakly against the gag, but Dick wasn’t even looking in his direction anymore. His focus was completely on Bullock.
“Thank you for your cooperation. The Navy appreciates civilian involvement, especially on worlds where we do not have a strong presence.”
“Yeah, sure thing.” Bullock however, kept glancing between Dick and Jason. Jason’s behavior had certainly changed in the past few minutes and it hadn’t gone beyond his notice.
What on earth was the right play here? Arouse Bullock’s suspicion in the hopes of staying here or let this happen and get on his old ship with the same person who kicked him off of it in the first place?
The only way he was staying was by somehow blowing Dick’s cover and exposing the whole thing as fraud. Without the Navy angle, would Bullock go to bat for him? He’d probably still been paid to get rid of Jason, so would he even care really? Would being played be enough for him to put a stop to the whole thing? Jason really wasn’t sure.
He was out of time. He hadn’t seen this coming at all. He hadn’t had time to prepare. Dick had arranged a smash and grab where he was the loot and he still had no idea why. Surely Jason wasn’t that good in bed?
But the nagging voice in the back of his head was laughing at him. He wasn’t going to try to get out of this. Just yesterday, when Dick had asked why he had stayed here, he knew the answer was so that Dick could find him again. And he had. And honestly, there was no place he would rather be than back on his ship. Even if that meant–
“Take him to the brig.” Dick said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He didn’t even look in Jason’s direction. Whatever this was, it was humiliating, and he and Grayson were going to have words later.
Still sucking in air through his nose, he climbed to his feet with the help of his escorts. His movements were slow, but he had resumed the resigned cooperation he had taken on at the bar, in case Bullock was still watching. Just cold feet. A complicated history with the Navy officer. No reason to doubt. No reason to remember. Nothing to see here.
“I trust the men I sent with you will be along shortly?” he heard Dick say as they headed out of earshot.
There was a ramp that led up and into a loading bay. The larger ramp was closed, keeping most of the cargo from spectator view, but the smaller pedestrian ramp was still wide enough for the three of them to walk side by side up onto the ship.
Jason knew where they were going, and as they turned down a corridor, well out of view of anyone outside the ship, Jason launched his shoulder into the chest of the redhead, sending him into the wall, hard. He spun low, extending his leg and sweeping the red head’s legs out from under him. It was a stupid move in his condition, as it put his back to the other guard and left him wide open, not to mention horribly off balance given the state of his arms, but Jason didn’t care. This wasn’t an escape plan. It was payback.
And so, when in short order, he joined the redhead sprawled out on the floor, seeing stars, he laughed. Because what else was he going to do on a day like today?