Chapter Text
The thing about ghosts is that they’re supposed to be scary, Jason thinks as ghost number one—the one that looks much older than the other two and, if Jason squints a little past the transparent body, might be an older Dick Grayson—protests his attempt at having a nice evening inside the Manor’s library.
Ghosts aren’t supposed to be nagging, annoying things, but maybe that’s just a stereotype from all the horror novels he’s been getting through lately. Maybe ghosts are annoying and irritating and distracting. Maybe they’re not terrifying at all.
“I’m busy,” he finally says to the ghost, attempting to keep the whine out of his voice. “I have a book report due in a week, and you’re not helping.”
Ghost Dick reels back like he’s never heard anything more scandalous. The other two give him equally weirded-out looks.
Ghost Two flicks his hands up to his head, sticking out his index fingers to mimic something Jason recognizes as Batman’s cowl. He then points out at the silvery crescent moon outside the window and then pretends to head out the door.
“No,” Jason snaps with exhaustion and annoyance. He should be more worried about the fact that these ghosts know that Bruce is Batman and that he’s Robin, but honestly? They’re ghosts, and somehow, they already knew those facts before they showed up to haunt him. Plus, they can’t even speak or appear to anyone else. He’s tested it. “I’m not going out as Robin. I have homework.”
For some reason, all three ghosts look stunned. Even the little one, who’s about Jason’s height and tries to be unimpressed at whatever the other two do. Jason would be a little sadder about the fact that they’ve all died so young, but he’s learned quickly that annoyance overrides sadness.
The door to the library opens, and Bruce’s head pops in. “Everything okay in here? I heard your voice.”
“Bruce,” he says, and now he’s definitely whining. But he doesn’t care because he’s sick of these ghosts and how they always look surprised whenever he does something. “They’re doing it again.”
Bruce’s face softens, and he opens the door fully to reveal himself still dressed in his suit and tie. “Are they now?” he asks, coming in to take a seat next to Jason and give him a one-armed hug.
The little ghost glares at him while Ghost Two stares at Bruce. Meanwhile, Ghost Dick is attempting to wave his hand right in front of Bruce’s face.
“Three is glaring at me,” Jason complains, sinking into Bruce’s embrace. “Two is being creepy. And Dick is trying to get your attention.”
“Don’t call the ghost by your brother’s name,” Bruce chides him gently.
“But he looks like Dick,” he protests, glaring at Ghost Dick who is now dramatically in despair on the ground. “Just in ghost form. And older. Maybe he’s one of Dick’s ancestors who died young in Gotham and is now haunting me because Dick can’t see him. But I can. So now I’m being haunted.”
Bruce muffles his laughter. “I’m sure that’s not it, Jay.”
Ghost Three looks at Bruce in absolute betrayal while Ghost Two somehow looks even fainter than he already is. Ghost Dick has stopped being dramatic and is now watching Bruce with what seems to be a sad, nostalgic expression.
“You don’t know that. It might be true.”
A smile appears on Bruce’s face. “Why don’t you ask him then? You said that they can hear us.”
Jason lets out a pointed sigh. He reaches out to awkwardly poke at Ghost Dick, only for his hand to go straight through the ghost’s shoulder. He ignores the ice that shoots up his arm. “Hey, are you one of Dick’s ancestors? Because I’m not actually related to him so you should go haunt him instead of me.”
Ghost Dick stares at him, slight outrage on his face like he can’t believe Jason’s words.
Ghost Two might’ve laughed, but then Ghost Three says something, mouth opening and closing, and Two suddenly looks like he’s about to strangle Three. Ghost Dick looks away from Jason for a moment to snap at the two, who immediately separate obediently, though Three is much more reluctant about it.
“So?” Bruce prompts, looking almost expectantly at Jason.
“He didn’t answer yet,” he grumbles, frowning as Ghost Dick gives the other two a fond but exasperated look. He kind of wishes his Dick treated him like that instead of the kind, standoffish stance he has with him.
Jason gets it because it’s not like Dick was expecting to suddenly have a brother, but it still stings when he sees Dick’s face on this ghost that’s being so brotherly. But, he thinks a bit more optimistically, Dick had given him the go-ahead on being Robin and even handed over the reins personally so maybe there just needs to be some more time before they can be like the ghosts.
Ghost Dick looks back over at him, offering him an apologetic smile. He shakes his head.
“He says he’s not,” Jason translates for Bruce, “which I think is a lie because he looks too much like Dick. I swear, Bruce, if you could actually see him, you’d say the same thing.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Bruce says with a fond smile.
“Are you going out on patrol?” he asks then, looking at Bruce’s suit. “It’s past your usual start time.”
“No,” Bruce says, and Jason watches in confusion as the three ghosts just freeze with blank looks on their faces. “How can I patrol when my son is having ghost problems?”
Like always, whenever Bruce refers to him as his son, Jason flushes a little, feeling a small warmth spread through his body. It almost causes him to miss the absolute insanity happening with the ghosts as Two attempts to hold back Three, only to be mauled by a wild small ghost. Ghost Dick is there instantly, separating the two with what appears to be a growing headache in his expression.
There’s a lot of talk happening in the ghost plane, but Jason disregards their drama to simply soak up Bruce’s presence.
“Good,” Jason comments, raising his assigned book. “You can listen to me read this.”
Bruce gives him another smile. “Are you going to do voices again?”
“Bruce,” he hisses, glancing at the ghosts and being relieved that none of them seem to have heard Bruce. “Not with the ghosts here.”
“Sorry.” Despite the apology however, Jason can see Bruce’s eyes twinkle in amusement. “No voices. Just a normal reading then. Where are you in the book?”
Jason clears his throat, ignores the ghost fight happening a few feet to his left, and starts reading aloud from where he’s left off.
The ghosts follow him to school because why not.
“Alfred, if the school calls you because I’ve done something like scream in the bathroom, it won’t be because of me,” he tells Alfred before he gets out of the car to head into the academy.
“I was under the impression that if one screams in a lavatory, it is usually one’s choice to do so,” Alfred responds unimpressed, turning his head to look and arch an eyebrow at Jason.
Ghost Two snickers without a sound. Ghost Dick looks torn between doing the same and giving Jason a sympathetic look. Ghost Three just sits grumpily in his seat with his arms crossed.
Jason doesn’t know why they seem to sit in the seats instead of floating like ghosts should. They also walk through doors, attempt to avoid getting in people’s ways, are surprised when no one can hear them, and generally act as though they aren’t dead. Which is weird. Because Ghost Dick tries to pat him on the head sometimes, and all it does is send ice through Jason’s brain and force him to scramble away.
Ghosts are annoying, he concludes yet again. And unaware of the fact that they’re ghosts apparently.
“Okay, yeah,” Jason concedes grumpily. “But it’s not going to be fully my fault. It’ll be because of the ghosts.”
“And I am certain that these ghosts of yours will not be affecting your studies.” Alfred might not be able to see the ghosts, but he sure does give it a good try as he attempts to stare down the space to Jason’s right with a mild, disapproving look. “I will be very cross with them if they do.”
Ghost Dick quails as he’s the recipient of Alfred’s vague stare. Two laughs again, a gloating expression on his faint face. Three even cracks some measure of a smile.
Jason’s still not completely sure that Alfred believes him about the ghosts, but he feels some comfort and relief at the willingness to play along. “Thanks, Alfred.”
“Run along now, Master Jason,” Alfred says with a gentle smile. “You mustn’t be late to your classes.”
“We can’t have that,” he replies with a grin and scrambles out of the car, feeling cold as he moves right through the ghosts. “See ya later, Alfred!”
“Master Bruce will be picking you up today,” Alfred calls after him, and Jason lights up at the thought.
Three, when he catches up to Jason alongside the other ghosts, has a look on his face that indicates he’s struggling to come to terms with something. Ghost Dick is spinning some sort of tale with nostalgia and sadness because Two can’t stop looking at the older ghost. Two almost trips because of it, which Jason is still puzzled over because they’re ghosts.
But whatever. He has school so he’s going to focus on school and not whatever weird thing the ghosts are up to.
The ghosts are staring at him. It’s not distracting enough that Jason feels compelled to stare back in defiant anger, but it’s enough that he can just feel their eyes riveted on him like he’s some sort of zoo animal. When a teacher asks a question and his hand shoots up to answer, the stares intensify.
It gets to the point where he has to excuse himself to go to the bathroom in the middle of his favorite English class.
Alfred, he thinks distantly as he storms into an empty bathroom with the ghosts trailing after him, just narrowly missing the closing door, is going to be so disappointed with me.
He doesn’t scream. Yet.
“I don’t actually need to go to the bathroom,” he tells the ghosts when they seem to register that they are, in fact, in a bathroom and attempt to leave. They’re weirdly polite about that, for ghosts. “We need to talk.”
Two points at his mouth and tries to say something before giving him a look like he thinks Jason is being an idiot.
“No, I know you can’t talk,” Jason says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “And I can’t read your lips because you’re too see-through. But that’s good. Because I don’t need you to talk. I need you to listen to me.”
Three crosses his arms, looking at him with an unimpressed and annoyed expression. Ghost Dick just awkwardly smiles.
“I need you to stop staring at me in class,” he demands bluntly, and a part of him is thinking that if there were cameras in this bathroom, it’ll be really awkward for someone to catch him talking to nothing but air. “You’re getting too much like Bruce when he’s being broody after I got like a scratch on my knee from a pebble or something during patrol.”
Three looks pleased for some reason while Ghost Dick jerks back with a betrayed look on his face. Two just stares blandly at Jason, who isn’t even sure that Two is getting his message.
“And I don’t know why you keep looking all surprised at me whenever I do—do anything, but it’s annoying and irritating. And I would really like to not be expelled from school because I look like a nutcase when I start yelling at you in the middle of class.” He stops as Ghost Dick’s expression furrows and Two looks away. Thankfully, Three only continues to be his usual indifferent self, which allows Jason the courage to forge on. “Why don’t you guys go haunt someone else? Like Dick. And if you can’t, why don’t you just, I don’t know, walk away for a bit?”
Two scowls while Three scoffs. Three says something that he still can’t understand but is probably mean and snooty and then seems frustrated when Jason blinks at him in confusion. Ghost Dick responds to Three, hands out in a placating gesture.
Ghost Dick turns to Jason, opening his mouth before pausing. He grimaces before turning to walk towards the door of the bathroom. He slows down as he gets there and starts moonwalking with a strained face, something which looks really funny on a ghost. He looks at Jason again.
“You can’t go haunt someone else, and you’re bound to a certain radius of me,” Jason guesses.
Ghost Dick nods.
“How far?”
The ghost pauses and turns to look at Two, who scrunches up his face. Two lets out what might be a sigh before he marches over to the bathroom door, only to stop and look at Jason.
Jason would very much like it to be known that he is not a fan of being bossed around by ghosts. He still opens the door for Two. He watches as Two essentially sprints down the hallway before getting stuck around the fifteen-feet mark, straining as he runs in place.
A cold iciness at Jason’s back and to the side tells him that Ghost Dick is watching behind him while Three is right next to him. All three of them watch as Two struggles against some invisible force before he’s yanked back, tumbling into a roll and awkwardly coming back up in a disheveled mess.
Three laughs, which Jason only knows because the iciness at his side is jerking into his organs and back again. Two grumbles and complains, looking accusatory at the air above Jason’s head. This causes Three to straighten—which sucks majorly because his entire side is now freezing—and snap right at Two.
The cold at his back envelops Jason fully. He does a whole-body shiver as Ghost Dick stumbles through him.
Don’t yell, Jason reminds himself with surprising patience as he watches Ghost Dick get between the two ghosts. Don’t, or Alfred will be disappointed, and I won’t get picked up by Bruce today.
Two jerks his thumb at Jason, and Ghost Dick rears up in what might be guilt because he turns to Jason with an apologetic look.
He ignores it. “Right,” he mutters and steps back into the bathroom with the door still wide open. “Back in. There are cameras outside.”
The three ghosts hurry back into the bathroom, and Jason makes sure to shut the stupid, slowly-closing door behind them.
“What kind of ghost needs me to open the door for them?” he complains first. “Why can’t you just walk through doors and walls like normal ghosts?”
Two attempts to answer him, clearly having forgotten that Jason can’t hear him, before he stops and gives up. Not that Jason was going to pay attention to his explanation anyways.
After he’s gotten that complaint out of his system, Jason pins Ghost Dick with a look because he’s clearly the leader of this ghostly trio. “Okay, so you won’t be able to leave my classroom when I’m having class. Which means you need to do something that isn’t just staring at me.”
Ghost Dick nods and then attempts to ruffle Jason’s hair with his icy ghost fingers.
Jason dodges it before the cold can give him a brain freeze. “Stop that.”
The ghost does not stop.
He spends the rest of the school day balancing precariously on the urge to scream. But at least the ghosts have stopped staring at him.
It’s a little funny to see Three get put on timeout, staring at a wall with mutinous fury. The only time he doesn’t get put on timeout is when they’re in his biology class and Three is distracted with the class’s pet hamster, watching it with avid interest.
“Come and take back your ghosts. I don’t want them anymore,” Jason says immediately when Dick picks up the call.
“What?” Dick sounds half-asleep and all-confused on the speaker. “Jason? What are you talking about? Ghosts?”
Ghost Dick is waving his hands, practically pleading with Jason, but he ignores him. Ghost Three is sniping something at Jason, but he ignores him, too. Ghost Two is somewhere out of Jason’s sight, but if he was in front of him, he’d be ignored, too.
“Ghosts have been haunting me,” Jason tells Dick, trying desperately not to look at his ruined book report. He can easily print out a new copy, but it’s the principle of the matter. The ghosts aren’t going to learn unless he teaches them a lesson. “One of them looks like you. I’m pretty sure he’s one of your ancestors who thinks we’re related and is haunting me because of that. So come take your ghosts back before I start screaming.”
“Please don’t tell me you called me because of ghosts. Ghosts aren’t real,” Dick says wearily.
Jason stares at his phone in utter disbelief for a few seconds. He hopes Dick can feel the disappointed judgment he’s trying to project through the call. “We live in a world filled with alien superheroes and mystical powers. Your girlfriend is an alien. How are ghosts not real to you?”
There’s a pause at the other end. “Alright,” Dick concedes slowly. “Maybe I was a little too hasty with my judgment. So ghosts are real, huh.”
“Yeah,” Jason says. “And they’re haunting me when they should be haunting you.”
“Is Bruce or Alfred aware of this?” Dick asks, clearly ignoring Jason’s words.
“Alfred might be humoring me. Bruce believes me, I think, but he also thinks I have a love for the color red, so there’s that.”
“Your favorite color isn’t red?”
“It’s green,” Jason corrects, sniffing primly at the confirmation that yet another person in his life thinks his favorite color is red. Just because most of his clothes are red doesn’t mean his favorite color is red. Green is just a very difficult color to have on clothes.
The ghosts seem to recoil for some reason, but Jason isn’t up to digging into what their problem with his favorite color is. They seem to have a lot of problems with him for some reason. One more for the growing pile, he supposes.
“I don’t think I’ve met a single Gothamite whose favorite color is green,” Dick comments mildly. “You know, considering some people who live in Gotham.”
“Riddler and Ivy do not have a monopoly on the color green,” he retorts in outrage. “I like green.”
“I never said that it’s wrong for your favorite color to be green. I just meant that it’s a surprise.”
“You better,” he mutters lowly before he blinks. “Wait, we’re getting off-track. We’re supposed to be talking about the ghosts haunting me when they should be haunting you.”
“Darn,” Dick says. “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”
“Stop. This is serious. I’m sick of them.”
“Okay. I’ll be serious. What’s wrong with them? Are they scaring you? Hurting you?”
“They’re not scaring me,” Jason says, to which Three looks indignant. Too bad. They stopped scaring Jason when he realized they couldn’t do anything to him or even make scary noises. What kind of ghost can’t even scare people? These ones, apparently. “They’re not scary at all, which is a huge letdown, by the way. They’re just really, really annoying. They ruined my homework.”
“Oh. How’d they do that? Like poltergeist-type things?”
“Ghost Dick stuck his hand through my chest when I was holding my essay, and I ripped it.”
In the corner of Jason’s eyes, Ghost Dick looks vaguely guilty.
You better be, Jason thinks crossly.
“Ghost…Dick?” Dick sounds positively baffled. “You named your ghost after me?”
“There’s three of them. One of them looks like you so I named him after you.” He pauses. “Don’t tell Bruce. I already got the lecture to not call him that.”
“I am so telling Bruce.”
“Liar. You’re not even talking to him right now.” Jason would know. He heard Dick yell at Bruce over the phone about privacy and tight leashes a week ago, and judging from the last time they’d gotten in a tiff, it’ll take at least another week before they’re on speaking terms again.
Two, who has now returned to Jason’s sight, and Three turn to look in unison at Ghost Dick, who looks embarrassed. Maybe he’s just ashamed that his descendent can’t even lie properly.
“I’m telling Bruce when we start talking again,” Dick says before he pauses and adds in grouchy annoyance, “which won’t happen. Because I hate him. And don’t want to talk to him. At all. Or ever.”
“Uh huh.” Jason mentally revises the expected reconciliation to be in a few days because Dick only ever gets like this when he’s thinking about talking with Bruce again soon. “When you come back to Gotham and leave, take your ghosts with you.”
“Who said I’m going back to Gotham?” Dick asks, offended.
“Me,” Jason says and hangs up because he likes to annoy Dick like that.
His phone rings, and the picture of Dick’s blown-up face, looking groggy from having just woken up and with a curly marker mustache, threatens Jason to pick up. He doesn’t, of course. He’s not stupid. The call stops after a long thirty seconds.
Then there’s a buzz, and Jason peers at the phone’s screen.
I’m going to kill you, reads the text.
The younger ghosts seem to be accusing Ghost Dick of something now. Ghost Dick looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
Jason hides his grin—at the text or at the ghosts, he’s a little unsure. He then picks up his phone, unlocks it, and sends a text back: Gonna have to be in Gotham to do that.
An immediate text answers: Run.
“So,” Jason begins, drawling the word. He and Bruce are hanging out in Bruce’s office, where the man is dealing with paperwork related to Wayne Enterprises. “Hypothetically speaking, if Dick were to just suddenly appear in the Manor and, I don’t know, start chasing me around, who would you help?”
Ghost Dick stares intently at Bruce while Three mouths something. Two says something back that leads Three to scoff and turn away.
“Um,” Bruce says, which is how Jason knows he’s blindsided by the question and struggling to come up with an answer. Then he bypasses the question altogether when he says, “Jason, what have you done?”
“Bruce, that is not an answer to my question,” he deflects, making a face as Ghost Dick grins.
“Is this another trust thing?”
“No,” Jason answers, rolling his eyes before he stops and thinks. “Wait, yes, this is a trust thing. So be very careful about how you answer this question.”
Ghost Dick points a finger at him with a look of annoyance and accusation. Jason has no idea what’s wrong with him.
“Um,” Bruce says again. He’s completely stalled on his paperwork now. And maybe his brain, too, from what Jason sees of him.
“Very careful,” he stresses, looking unblinkingly at Bruce.
Bruce shifts. “I would support you,” he says, voice a little weak and faint. It grows stronger when he continues with, “assuming you’re in the right.”
Ghost Dick looks a little triumphant, grinning wildly enough that it shows clearly despite his transparentness.
“I am in the right,” Jason says and then, just in case, tacks on, “hypothetically.”
“Right.” Bruce takes a breath. “And, hypothetically, why would Dick come to chase you around the Manor?”
This time, it’s Jason’s turn to squirm, which isn’t at all helped by the fact that Ghost Dick seems to be gloating in his face. He tries to shove the ghost’s face away, momentarily forgetting that the ghost is, in fact, a ghost and is punished with icy coldness running from his hand to the shoulder.
“Hypothetically, I may have called him and told him about the ghosts. And I might’ve gotten him to sort of admit that he misses you and he got annoyed. And then I hung up on him. And then didn’t pick up his call. And then annoyed him through text.” He pauses. “Hypothetically.”
“Hypothetically,” Bruce echoes with a blank look on his face. “There are a lot of hypotheticals in your words, Jay.”
“Hypotheticals are a staple of life,” Jason insists, refusing to incriminate himself further. He stubbornly doesn’t look in the direction of the trio of ghosts, or rather specifically at Ghost Dick. Because he’s certain the ghost is rooting for his descendant. “For example, we should’ve had a hypothetical for being haunted by ghosts who can’t talk or be seen by anyone other than the haunt-ee. Or act like ghosts.”
“These are very specific hypotheticals.”
“Yeah, wonder why.”
Bruce gives him a look, but his lips are twitching. Eventually, as Jason continues to challenge him with a defiant stare, he looks fully away. The smile on his lips doesn’t escape Jason’s gaze. Neither does it escape Ghost Dick’s sight apparently because the ghost is now looking between the two of them with an expression of outrage and betrayal.
Two is snickering in a corner while Three is attempting a very good imitation of Bruce’s not-smile.
“In that case,” Bruce begins slowly, turning back to look at Jason after he’s gotten his expression down to a straight face, “I feel like I shouldn’t choose either side.”
Ghost Dick perks up with renewed hope, but Jason waits patiently because he already knows he’s won from the way Bruce’s face is pinched from attempting to not smile.
“But,” Bruce continues, and Jason tries not to jump up in victory while Ghost Dick collapses dramatically to the ground, “I could be…persuaded to throw my chip in on one side. Hypothetically.”
Jason nods sagely. “Right. Of course. So, hypothetically, what sort of thing would get you to sway to my side?”
Bruce hums in thought before he smiles. “How about…a hug? And a movie night?”
He takes a moment to consider the offer. “Only if I get to choose the movie.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“I have to be ruthless in this family,” Jason says, trying not to flush at his own sentence. Even after so long, he feels lightheaded about the fact, which allows him to ignore the way the ghosts have stilled and are staring at them. “So how about it, old man?”
In answer, Bruce opens his arms. Jason springs up from his seat to barrel into him, feeling warm and loved as Bruce closes himself around him.
“Thank you,” Bruce whispers, tightening his hold around Jason, “for getting Dick home.”
“You weren’t gonna do it yourself,” he grumbles back. “One of us has to be the non-mopey adult here.”
Bruce chuckles, shaking them both a little, and Jason feels the press of his lips on his head. “You are a treasure, Jason. Never doubt that.”
Jason grins into Bruce’s shirt. “Of course,” he adds, because he’s never known how to stop, “this is all just a hypothetical.”
Bruce lets out a peal of laughter.
Jason’s in the middle of an extremely riveting game of mancala with Two when Bruce pokes his head into the library and says, “Heads up. Dick is—are you playing mancala by yourself?”
He sighs while Two points to a pit so that Jason can move the stones for him. “I’m not playing by myself,” he informs Bruce, reaching over to take the stones and quickly depositing them in their new pits. “I’m playing with the ghosts.”
“Oh,” Bruce says and then curiously asks, “Who’s winning?”
“I am,” Jason answers while Two points at himself. He turns his glare on Two. “No, you’re not. I clearly have more stones than you. Don’t lie when the evidence is right in front of us.”
Two points at him and then jabs at the board with quick movements, clearly complaining. He mimes picking up the stones and hiding his hand behind his back.
“You can’t cheat at mancala!” Jason splutters, offended that Two would even suggest such a thing. “That’s impossible. Just because I’m the one moving the stones doesn’t mean that I’m pocketing them somehow. I’m not even wearing long sleeves!”
Three snorts while Ghost Dick pats Two on the shoulder in a consoling manner. Two shakes the hand off, sulking.
“Which one are you playing with?” Bruce questions in vague amusement. He looks at the other end of the table.
“Two. He’s a sore loser,” he answers and then corrects himself as he remembers Ghost Dick and Three’s reactions when they played against each other. “They’re all sore losers.”
Ghost Dick slams his hands on the table, mouth open to presumably ream Jason out, only to fall straight through.
Jason grins, picking up a pile of stones for his turn. He looks back at Bruce, who is smiling softly at him. “Anyways, what was that about Dick?”
Bruce blinks. “Oh, right, I was going to tell you that Dick is coming up the driveway.”
The stones in Jason’s hand drop, clattering against the tabletop as he stares at Bruce. “You are the worst partner ever,” he emphasizes. He scrambles up, ignoring how Two attempts to save their game—or maybe the ghost is trying to cheat. He won’t put it past the ghost after he accused Jason of cheating. “You couldn’t have told me sooner?”
“You were playing mancala with ghosts,” Bruce defends himself as though Jason will just accept that.
“I’m taking back that hug.”
“No takebacks allowed,” Bruce replies just as quickly.
Jason opens his mouth to argue that Bruce has failed to live up to his end of the bargain in a prompt manner and therefore takebacks should be allowed, but then he hears a loud voice yell.
“Jason!”
“Oh, crap.”
“Language,” Bruce chides.
“Jason!” Dick’s voice continues to call, coming closer fast. “You can’t escape me!”
“Watch me,” Jason mutters and bolts past Bruce, dragging his ghosts with him. He looks left and right in the middle of the hallway and makes the split-second decision to yank open a nearby closet door and dive into it. He hastily closes the door behind him, huddling in the dark, just as he hears thunderous footsteps approach the area.
“Dick,” Bruce’s voice calls out, and Jason holds his breath as the loud footsteps halt abruptly. “No running or yelling in the Manor. You know Alfred hates when that happens.”
“Bruce,” Dick says back, muffled voice neutral. “Have you seen Jason?”
Jason leans forward slightly, only to be startled by the cold iciness that he’s grown somewhat used to in the past few days. “Which one are you?” he whispers as quietly as possible.
The cold shifts away as Bruce lies to Dick. Jason waits patiently, half listening to the conversation happening outside the closet door.
Eventually, the ghost taps his arm thrice.
“Wait,” Bruce says outside the door. “Are you… Are you going to be staying for the weekend? Or even just overnight?”
There’s silence, and Jason bites his tongue to prevent himself from sighing loudly.
“Alfred missed you,” Bruce continues, stumbling over his words. “He would like it if you stayed.”
Bruce is a massive idiot, Jason thinks, fighting the urge to smack himself in the face. A big disaster of an idiot.
There’s another moment of silence before, “Fine. But only because Alfred missed me.”
No, never mind, Jason thinks this time, dumbfounded by the exchange. They’re both massive idiots.
“Good,” Bruce says, and his voice is jerky. “That’s… That’s good.”
“Yeah,” Dick replies flatly and equally as awkward. “That’s, um, I’m gonna go. Find Jason.”
“Right.”
It’s getting to the point where Jason feels like he should burst out of the closet so he can watch them shake hands like they’re strangers at a gala or a meeting. It might even top the time he dared Bruce to pretend to be friends with Oliver Queen, who grew increasingly confused and concerned as it went on.
Thankfully, before the desire to watch this trainwreck can overwhelm him, footsteps reach his ears again, sounding fainter and fainter as they move away.
Jason waits another few moments before he reaches for the doorknob. As soon as he does, however, a burst of ice sinks into his bones from his arm, and he freezes. There’s no way for the ghosts to actually touch him, but the icy chill is enough for him to register that Three is touching him. He doesn’t know why.
Three is usually the more isolated ghost of the trio, preferring to watch Ghost Dick with an impassive expression. He sometimes gets into little spats with Two, but Jason’s noticed that while the two ghosts get heated enough that Ghost Dick has to intervene, Three isn’t actually hostile towards Two. When it comes to Jason however, Three seems to adopt a distant attitude.
The only time Three interacts with Jason beyond reacting to the things he does or says is when Ghost Dick urges him to. And even those are few and far between.
Outside the door, Dick’s voice comes as a murmur. “Really thought he’d come out by now.”
Three’s icy cold continues to bathe Jason in chills for a long moment after Dick’s voice dies. It takes at least a minute before the ice shifts and disappears. Jason takes that as his cue to open the door, stumbling out and shivering.
Dick isn’t there, which is great. Ghost Dick looks betrayed while Two smirks, nodding at Jason.
“That sneaky,” he starts, stuttering from the perceived cold before he stops himself in case Alfred is around the corner. He turns his head to look at Three, who is emerging from the closet to come stand beside Ghost Dick. “Thanks.”
Three looks away while Two waves his hand at Jason and points at himself.
“You, too,” he adds because it’s becoming clear now that Two had been the one to inform Three when Jason was good to come out. He beams at them, ignoring Ghost Dick’s sulking form. “Come on, let’s go freak Dick out.”