Archive of Our Own

Jason found love to be a fickle topic.

In some ways, his cup overflowed, and he loved too much for too little in return. But in other ways, his well ran dry. Some types of loves were easier than others, and it always seemed like the type of love people wanted out of Jason was one he didn't have.

A pacified, defanged love. Love that didn't demand or bleed. The belly up, obedient love.

And Jason was sick of rolling over.

Love was a broken compass he had stopped following a while ago, about the same time he stopped chasing Bruce, and Dick, and anyone else stupid enough to associate themselves with the iconography of a bat.

That didn't mean he had direction now. What he had now was a job- or rather, a collection of jobs. He kept from having the same employer more than three times. Jason was nobody's lackey. Guns were hired all the time, all over the world, by anyone. Mercenary work was easy to come by, even when Jason filtered through the noise to only kill people who needed to die either way. He got two things out of it. A paycheck, and one less piece of filth in the world.

Jason wasn't idealistic enough to think that any action he did made a meaningful, noticeable difference in the world. But unlike Bruce, Jason wasn't casting the net that wide to begin with. Small acts of justice reaped small rewards. He tracked the victims of traffickers and abusers and watched them set up proper lives for themselves after Jason sent them enough money to do so.

It wasn't like he needed the big paychecks, anyway. Jason lived pretty modestly, all things considered. No Batmobiles or invisible jets or fortresses of solitude. Just whatever he could keep in the three bags he allowed himself to travel with. One for personal effects, one for necessities, and one for weapons.

It was what made him such a preferred hitman. He left no trace, and even if there was suspicion, he was impossible to find, let alone make squeal.

His life wasn't all work, no play, though.

Some killings were personal. Sometimes he got restless and needed to stretch his legs during his layover between flights. And it was always easy to find where vermin hid, if you knew where to look.

He always knew exactly where to strike.

"Don't beg," Jason announced himself as he slipped through a window into the high-rise office of a financial advisor, that had a perfect view of San Diego's skyline. The man's day job was unremarkable, some corporate firm. Jason wasn't interested in his day job.

He also wasn't interested in slinky stealth jobs that Bruce preferred. Jason saved that for when he was actually working. His free time allowed him more fun.

All work and no play made a dull boy, after all.

"I hate the beggars," Jason continued as the man -a short, balding rat-like bastard in a blue suit named Joseph Whittaker- jumped from his desk and stumbled backwards. "They're loud, annoying, and they never get what they want."

Whittaker fell back a few more steps before regaining his composure and taking in the sight of Jason before him. Jason didn't make a habit of flashy suits these days. Tactical gear, weapons on display, and a domino mask did the job in getting his intentions across.

"Who-" Whittaker stumbled over his words with a scratchy voice. "How did you get up here?" He leaned over, peaking out the window Jason had climbed in through.

Jason raised an eyebrow, pulling a knife out of its holster. "It's the twenty-first century. They've got a gadget for everything these days, Joe." The truth was, he had climbed out of the window a floor below and just scaled the brick wall up for dramatic effect. But that was less interesting than letting the man believe Jason was some freak of nature who scaled the whole damn building.

"If this is a robbery, I'm not-"

"There isn't enough money in the world to buy your life back." Jason cut him off. "And I don't think you're stupid enough to act like you don't know what this is about."He stepped forward and snorted when Whittaker flew backward, falling over his own trash can. Jason leaned over the cowering man. "Sarah, Emilia, Jane. Those were their names, just so you know. Every single one of those girls in your black market films? They had names. And you're lucky I'm killing you quickly instead of carving them into your skin until you bleed out."

Whittaker flinched but set his trembling jaw, eyes narrowing with a vile hatred. Not a complete coward, then. "Oh, I won't beg," he snarled. He tried to kick, and Jason easily dodged it. "Boys playing dress up don't scare me any more than little girls do." He flashed an ugly, yellowing smile. Jason could smell tobacco on his breath.

The words raked over Jason. He'd heard it all since he started doing this. The guiltless, proud ones were always the worst. No fear, no remorse. Just cruelty and ego, right as Jason marched them to their deaths.

"Die scared, die stupid," Jason shrugged. "Makes no difference to me. I'll have a corpse by the end of it either way."

"If you have the balls to do it," the man sneered. He looked Jason up and down. "Not much of a gimmick going on. You look new to the job. I don't think you've got the nerve-"

He was cut off by a flash of light, eclipsing both of them as it filled the room.

Jason flinched, blinking blindness out of his eyes. He heard the new presence in the room before his sight adjusted enough to see it.

"Joseph Whittaker." A deep, booming voice. Jason felt it as much as he heard it. Like the noise came from inside his skull and reverberated outward. When Whittaker's face came into focus in his view, it was clear it'd had the same effect on the bastard as it did on Jason, just by his expression.

Jason soured. Always trouble in paradise. He holstered his knife and switched to a gun.

The… figure standing before them looked vaguely like he could be a man. He was shrouded in green robes, with porcelain white skin peaking out from under his hood. Too white to be naturally human. It looked like he was wearing a mask, but it was admittedly hard to tell with how shadowed his face was.

He looked… familiar to Jason. Maybe in that way all capes and masks looked familiar when you worked with enough, blending together with their flashy names and colored suits. Or maybe familiar in a deja vu sort of way, resonating in Jason's chest like the beat of a drum, playing a song he'd never heard before but still managed to know all the lyrics.

He refused to be shaken by the presence either way.

"Sorry, this one's taken," Jason said plainly. "Find your own pedophile. I can give you a list to pick from, if you want."

The man turned to Jason. He looked Jason over and made a hum, as if he'd already come to a judgment on the weight of Jason's soul.

"I'm not here for you," the man said firmly. He stepped closer to Whittaker, casting a ghostly green shadow over him. A green-gloved hand reached down to pull Whittaker to his feet. "Joseph," the man repeated firmly. "Your soul has been judged. You have two paths in front of you."

"What the hell is going…" Whittaker stopped speaking, blinking hard as he looked into the man's face. Jason was positive Whittaker was seeing something Jason couldn't under that hood. "I…" Whittaker lost his words, mouth hanging open like a fish.

"Your sins take their toll on your fate," the man continued. "You know who I am. You have seen the path you're on and where it will take you, if you continue. But if you are willing to take redemption-"

"Redemption? Oh, hell no." Jason repeated with a scoff. "So you're one of those types. Do you have any idea what he's done? The lives he's destroyed?" It felt like Jason was arguing with Bruce all over again.

The man turned to Jason again. "I do. I've seen it all. I've felt the pain he's caused."

"And you'd let him live?" Jason snarled. Fuck this. He raised his gun and pointed it at the ghastly man, firing.

He should've seen the outcome, and in some way, he wasn't at all surprised when the bullet disintegrated into dust mid-air. Goddamn magic types.

"I offer him a choice." The man turned back to Whittaker. "What path he takes is in his hands now."

"Redemption?" Whittaker looked between the two of them. "You're both lunatics. If you're trying to pull some good cop-bad cop thing on me, you can shove it where the sun don't shine." He tilted his head back and laughed, hacking and wheezing on the noise. "Keep your redemption. I don't want it. Your visions don't scare me. I'll do whatever I want, to whoever I want, and no one-"

His head exploded all over his white carpet before he had a chance to finish that thought.

Smoke curled from Jason's gun, and he released the trigger, pleased.

"You… you shot him," the man said. He dropped Whittaker. His voice wasn't so grand now. It sounded more human. It had plain old shock and confusion laced between the words.

"Uh-huh." Jason holstered his gun. He grabbed his knife again, just for the comfort of being armed, even if he knew it wasn't likely to do much. "He said no to you, so he got my way instead. Not everyone is owed redemption." He scowled at the man.

The man just stared for a moment. He deflated slightly, not looking so grand and imposing as he did before. "Jason Todd." He spoke Jason's name like it was a careful, complicated little thing.

Jason supposed technically, it was.

"If Bruce put you up to this, you can tell him to kiss my ass," Jason snapped. "I got out of his precious city. What more does he want from me?" He needed to go through all his stuff. Change out most of it. Clearly, there was a tracker on him somewhere. Or maybe Bruce was tracking him through the fake identities he was using to fly, even if he switched them out every few weeks. Or maybe his bank account-

"Bruce?" The man repeated, frowning. "Oh." It dawned on him. "No, I wasn't sent by Bru- Batman."

"But you know who he is."

"I know who everyone is. I'm the Spectre."

That name rang… some sort of bell. Something cosmic and ancient, in the same leagues as Dr. Fate and Constantine types. Or maybe higher. Jason wasn't sure. He tuned out of that side of the caped world, even when he was Robin.

"I know Joseph Whittaker was evil," the Spectre added. "And I… don't disagree, that maybe he deserved this fate. He was going to find a worse one regardless, if you didn't intervene."

"But you wanted to save him anyway."

The Spectre shifted slightly. "That's my job. I have to believe in redemption, otherwise… I'm something much worse. Because I need redemption too."

In a flicker of green light, the Spectre's image shifted, and the man standing in front of Jason was just that. Only a man. In beat-up jeans, a button-up white shirt, a brown flight jacket, and dog tags hanging around his neck. He had a sharp, strikingly handsome face. But his age showed in the white in his brown hair, streaking either side of his head.

Jason figured he was supposed to know who the guy was. He squinted, taking in the face. Maybe familiar, but still, Jason wasn't convinced, and he certainly couldn't put a name to it.

The Spectre sighed. "Alright, fair enough. Maybe this is more obvious." He shifted again.

And he was Green Lantern. Not the new Green Lantern running around now, but the Green Lantern Jason vaguely remembered back when he was Robin, and he worked with the League a few times. A simpler suit, brown hair, and a cocky smile.

"Hal Jordan." Jason took a second to recall the name from Bruce's files.

Hal nodded. He flickered back to his plain clothes look, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket like a worn-out habit. "If anyone needs to be redeemed for actions no one thinks I deserve redemption for, it's me."

"I wouldn't know," Jason said plainly. He still felt woefully out of the loop. "I was off the board for a bit. I guess I missed a few things." He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Ah. Right." Hal looked like it had finally dawned on him. "Sorry, I never could keep track of which Robin was which. I guess you were dead for my whole… Parallax stint." He winced on that word, Parallax. Like it had a bad taste. "I lost… a lot. Everything. Coast City was wiped off the map."

Jason thought about Bludhaven. "That seems to be going around these days."

Hal didn't laugh at the joke. Jason almost would've regretted it if Hal hadn't barged in, all sanctimonious on his moment. "I took a turn for the worse. I killed people, and it didn't make anything better."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Jason rolled his eyes. "So this is some 'teachable moment' sort of story, then?" He put finger quotes around the words.

"No." Hal shook his head emphatically. "I'm not here to judge your soul, Jason. I'm… that's not the point in this." He reached out like he wanted to lay a hand on Jason's shoulder in some mock form of comfort. Jason jerked away before contact was made, and Hal took the hint, dropping his hand. "I did horrible things. And I had a chance to save the world, and so I did, even knowing it'd kill me. Then, I was given the chance to try again and serve as a host for the Spectre. The wrath of God manifested."

"I'm not the biblical type."

"You don't have to be." Hal shook his head. "Trust me, I don't know how this works any better than anyone else. I didn't get a user manual, and the last guy who did this is schmoozing it up in Heaven with the Big Guy and probably laughing down at me failing so bad I let the Red Hood shoot a guy in the head."

That pulled a snort out of Jason. Hal shared a wry smile, and for a moment, there was a glimmer of the humor Jason remembered the old Green Lantern being known for.

"I don't really go by that anymore," Jason hummed.

"Well, I was pretty sure if I called you Robin, you'd try to deck me," Hal said.

Jason tilted his head to the side, humming in agreement. "Robin's long dead. None of that kid is left in me." A lie, and with Hal's all-knowing stupid little powers, he probably knew that.

But he didn't call Jason on it. He just nodded. "I know what that's like."

"Seems like it," Jason agreed. "And we both got replaced by annoying little brats."

"Don't say that. Kyle's a good kid."

"I've met him," Jason deadpanned. "I'll say whatever I want. He's annoying."

Hal looked like he was holding back a smile. "He's… righteous."

"Sanctimonious."

Finally, Hal barked out a laugh. "Maybe you don't see it, but you've got all the fire I remember you having as a kid."

Jason bit the inside of his cheek and avoided dissecting his emotional reaction to that line. "I don't recall us meeting that often."

"Oh no," Hal waved him off, "but Bats told stories about you all the time. He was really proud of you, you know?"

"He's not anymore."

That made Hal sober up slightly. "If it makes you feel any better, the guy hates my guts, too. He's convinced this is all a ruse, and I'm going to start going full Parallax again on everyone."

Jason gave him a wry smirk. "I just shot a man in the head. Whatever Bruce thinks about me right now is probably true. I don't think we're the same at all."

Hal looked down at Whittaker, then back at Jason. "Maybe. But Bats isn't entirely wrong about me killing these days. I'm just… more selective about it. And I offer redemption first." His voice started to boom again, layered and echoing through Jason. "We both know death. We know what we're doing to someone when we deliver it. I believe your actions are as measured as mine, Jason." Through the powerful booming, kindness bled into Hal's words.

Jason felt stuck in molasses, for a moment, under the weight of the words.

No judgment. No soap-boxing, even from a guy who watched Jason shoot a guy he was trying to save. Jason wanted to stay angry at Hal's whole redemption spiel, and he had a thousand arguments to counter it in his throat. But they got stuck there, lodged and held back under the weight of Jason's emotions. Or maybe Hal's emotions.

Emotions that almost, for a split second, felt a little like the familiarity of love.

Jason shook it off.

"The difference between you and I," Hal continued, "is that you went to Heaven. I went to Purgatory. I've only ever seen Heaven on borrowed time." Hal paused, turning his head to look at the double doors leading into the office. "We should go now. Whittaker's assistant is walking down the hall." He looked back at Jason. "Do you need-"

"Nope." Jason slid his knife into his belt and walked toward the window, leaving bloody bootprints. "I'll go out the way I came."

Hal shrugged. His image flickered back into the green robes of the Spectre. "Take care of yourself, Jason Todd."

The only answer Jason dignified him with was a flip of the bird before he slipped out of the window, not bothering to watch Hal dematerialize.

Damn magic freaks.

Jason had about three weeks' worth of peace to mull over his interaction with Hal.

Ultimately, he landed on the decision to just not think about it too hard. One-off interactions with other masks were a dime a dozen. And sure, all those interactions gave him a lot to think about. Different moral views to ponder on. Who reacted to him with sympathy, and who saw him as a threat. It all got catalogued as information that might one day be useful, if push came to shove. Hal was no different.

A lightning-in-a-bottle sort of moment, even. Jason had been the victim of bad cosmic timing before. There wasn't much to think about. A weird magic guy whose story lined up well enough with what Jason looked up about him.

Tragic little good guy gone bad under the weight of what he lost. Nothing new about it.

He threw himself into work instead. That was actually more interesting. People to kill, wrongs to set right, and even a few jobs where he was allowed to get a little fanciful and get into real fights that almost filled the void of human connection in his chest.

Almost. Which, for now, was good enough for Jason.

But, apparently, not even Jason could outrun everything.

Which he found out when he tried to drop a serial killer off a roof, only to watch a mystical flash of green catch him mid-air.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me," Jason groaned, watching Hal float up to the top of the roof and land beside him.

"He deserves a chance at redemption." Hal was unmoved as ever with that booming voice. He seemed unbothered by the killer trying to fight against Hal's grasp on him, kicking and punching limbs that might as well have been made of stone.

"Fuck you." Jason folded his arms. "He doesn't regret it. I could tell you that just by looking at him."

Hal just gripped the man tighter. "I'll be the judge of that."

"Right, because it's your job." Jason rolled his eyes. He was ignored, and Hal turned to the man. Whatever words Hal spoke weren't meant for Jason, so Jason didn't listen.

He just watched and waited with crossed arms and a tapping foot.

It took a full minute of glowing light and Hal monologuing about eternal suffering before the little rat bastard went still in Hal's arms, finally no longer struggling. He went still, slumping over.

Hal turned to Jason. He opened his mouth, and Jason could just feel the smug bragging he was going to get from Hal.

Right up until the bastard on the ground leapt up and tried to stab Hal with a hidden shiv.

"Told you so," Jason faked a yawn. "Is it my turn yet?"

Hal sighed. He grabbed the shiv and turned it to dust in his palm. "I at least have to try," he said quietly. "It's my job."

Jason shrugged. When the killer tried to lunge again, he intercepted. The guy had some sort of training, hence the need for a high-end mercenary to finish him off. Jason knew he was hired by a guy just as bad as the one currently trying to kill him. Some feud between two killers fighting over territory, or something.

It didn't matter. Jason could take his winnings, then go kill his employer.

For now, though.

He dodged a kick and rolled with a punch. They tumbled together on the hard gravel, exchanging blows. It reminded Jason of fistfights on a playground with bigger kids, who thought they had the jump on Jason because they were older.

They always forgot that Jason was meaner.

Jason rolled them as close to the edge as he felt comfortable with and then kicked the man in the gut, hard. He flipped right over Jason, falling to his death with a scream.

A classic type of kill, for Jason.

With a soft grunt, Jason pushed himself to his feet. He almost jumped at the sight of Hal. The way Hal switched between forms was easy enough to understand, going back to his jeans and jacket look. But the intense look in those deep brown eyes wasn't so easy for Jason to wrap his head around. Hal's chiseled jawline was set, eyebrows furrowed together.

After a moment of staring, Hal finally spoke. "I thought you were about to tumble off that edge with him."

Jason snorted, brushing gravel off his pants. "I'm insulted you think I'm that sloppy." He paused, then tilted his head to the side, curious. "Would you have saved me if I did?" There was no real point to the question. Jason was past relying on others to save him. He sure as hell didn't need it these days.

Still. Jason couldn't seem to resist asking. Some part of him was always begging and trying to reach out for… for something.

"Of course." Hal looked insulted by the question. "Not him, obviously. But I would've saved you."

"Because you're a hero," Jason mocked. He tried not to think about whether he thought the answer was true or not, and what its truth would mean for Hal's judgment of Jason's soul.

Hal nodded. "And because you're worth saving." He spoke those words so simply. Like he had no fucking idea how loaded they were.

Jason peered over the edge at a now dead body. "That guy wasn't." He looked over his shoulder. "Does this whole redemption thing ever actually work for you? Because as far as I see, you're oh for two."

For the briefest of split seconds, it looked like Hal was blushing. "It usually does, actually, for your information." He fidgeted with his dog tags. "Even the worst people do deserve redemption, you know."

"You see, I don't think I care." Jason shook his head. "If you told me the Joker turned over a new leaf tomorrow? I'd still want his head on a platter. He doesn't get to undo everything he's done just because he feels bad about it now."

A wretched look overtook Hal's face. "I know. That much sinning… it never goes away. You can never bring people back. No matter what power or guilt you have." He blinked hard a few times, looking at the ground. Jason was pretty sure they weren't talking about the Joker anymore. "Redemption isn't just about feeling guilt. It's about… making the change. Balancing the bad with the good."

Jason was unmoved. For the most part, anyway. "Hope these people you redeem have the time on their hands to do a hell of a lot of good, then."

"They do." Hal looked up, managing to smile again. "Well, most of them do, when they want to. And most want to. You just know how to pick 'em, clearly."

Jason flashed a fake smile. "It's a gift."

"Hm. Evidently." Hal narrowed his eyes, even with a smile starting to show in them. "If I didn't know any better, I'd guess you were the wrath of God, too."

"I don't believe in Him. Told you that."

Hal looked baffled. "How can a man who's been to Heaven not believe in God?"

"Knowing a guy exists and believing in Him are two different things." Jason shrugged, rolling the kinks out of his neck. "I know other gods exist, too. I'm not going to worship them either, now am I?"

"Fair enough." Hal didn't push it. He clicked his tongue, walking over to Jason to peer over the same edge. "I do mean it, though. You've got a real… gift for this." He wasn't mocking Jason.

"That's a way to put it."

"Just take the compliment." Hal knocked his shoulder against Jason's, like they were some kind of old friends.

Jason knocked back, but with more force, sending Hal stumbling. "I can read my own paychecks. I know what my worth is." It was usually easy for him to gloat about his own feats. Something about Hal's pretty smile made him prickle at the thought of soaking in the praise, as if he was opening a door he wasn't sure he could close. "Don't you have other people to go preach to?"

"I'm not trying to preach to you," Hal said. "And I can be in more than one place at once."

"I assume that's literal."

Hal nodded, looking smug about it. "There are perks to the job. Like right now… there's a really pretty sunrise in Tokyo." He closed his eyes for a moment. "And Batman is getting his ass handed to him by Deadshot of all people."

That made Jason snort. "The second one sounds pretty beautiful. I hope you're not there helping him."

Hal opened his eyes, sharing Jason's mirth. "Oh, you have no idea. And absolutely not, just enjoying the show while I'm in the city."

The moment stretched between them. Jason didn't know what type of moment it was, and he coughed.

"Well, some of us are bound to mortal rules." Jason grabbed the top edge of a fire escape. "And I've got other places to be, Jordan." Technically true, but Jason could've spared a few more minutes if he really wanted to.

And god, for some reason, he really wanted to.

But he didn't.

"Stay safe, Jason," Hal called after him, still smiling slightly.

Jason just grunted at him. He looked away before he started smiling against his will.

Bastard.

Jason had to actively try not to think about Hal most days.

He wanted to keep Hal firmly in the 'chance run-ins' category, where Jason didn't need to think about him and didn't need his life all fucked up by Hal's mere existence. Jason was tired of living through other people and thinking about how they saw him beyond its usefulness to him.

But Hal, Jason still just kept coming back to. Kept trying to decipher every word Hal had spoken to him, and how Hal felt about Jason. Like it mattered, for some fucked up reason.

Hal clearly had none of the pitying, mourning sympathy for Jason's tragic little past, like all the heroes who looked at Jason like some sad, kicked puppy. But also no complete renunciation of Jason's morals, like the ones quick to call Jason a psychotic villain. If Jason didn't believe his story, he'd even question if Hal was a hero.

But Jason believed it. In the same way he believed Whittaker and the serial killer saw something intangible and indescribable in Hal's eyes, Jason saw a reflection of that. Maybe he didn't believe in God, but it was hard not to believe in the Spectre.

It was harder not to think about a man who understood death like Jason.

A rare thing, really. Most hero deaths only had stopped hearts or quick little reversals. They never had time to sit in an afterlife and ponder their existence long enough for their death to really set in for the world.

Of course, Hal chose to come back. Jason chose nothing. He was thrust into the world as violently as the first time he was born. Bloody and thrashing against life.

So, with all that on his mind, Jason didn't know if he was relieved or on edge when he ran into Hal again.

"Oh, come on," Jason raised his voice to be heard over the screaming of the woman Hal was hovering over. "Dibs."

Hal paused, looking over his shoulder. He was in Spectre mode, blinding Jason with that bright white skin. "You… you can't call dibs."

"Can too." Jason stepped forward. He ignored the woman. She'd be dead soon either way. "I've got a contract that says so."

He saw he saw Hal trying to hide a smile. "I doubt it's legally binding."

"It's not legal at all." Jason gave him a perky smile. He pulled out a thin razor blade. Not his usual gear. "I'm supposed to make this one look like a suicide." He leaned in close to Hal. "Did you know she sells organs? She pitches fake job opportunities to broke college kids and then cuts them open when they show up. I'll let you guess how low the survival rate is."

"I don't have to guess. Of course I know."

"They… deserved it," the woman rasped, reminding both of them that she was still in the room, a witness to their conversation. "Stupid… mewling animals. Didn't deserve… the bodies God gave them…" She cut herself off with another wail.

Jason winced at the volume. "What did you do to her?"

There was no sympathy on Hal's face. "Not everyone reacts to being shown the Presence in the same way. The face of God is a terrifying sight to someone using His name in vain."

"Oh, can you quit it with the amens and hallelujahs?" Jason rolled his eyes. He looked down at the woman. A frail, wicked thing named Angela Sainte. Fucking ironic. "She doesn't seem interested in redemption. So again," his gaze flicked back up to Hal, "dibs."

"I was going to try a little harder," Hal sighed in frustration.

Jason just stared at him.

"Devils," Sainte seethed, wiping her face with her sleeve. "The both of you!"

Hal threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine. Do what you need to." He stepped away.

Jason made quick work. He kept waiting for Hal to leave. To lose the stomach for Jason's work and vanish in a blink. Or even try to stop Jason.

But he just stood in the corner, watching. Watching as Jason dragged the blade through the screaming woman, and watching as her blood spilled across the hardwood. Jason was careful not to step in it this time and more careful to contain her thrashing.

It wasn't a terribly long ordeal, but when Jason looked back up to Hal, he was in his plain clothes, with those brown eyes impossible to read.

"You really don't regret it," Hal mused softly. He stared at the woman. "Her soul just went to Hell. If that gives you any solace."

"There's nothing to regret here," Jason said the words with full force, meaning every single one. "Believe in your redemption all you want. Some of us will never find it, and we're just fine with that." He stared at the corpse.

"Oh, Jason, no." A hand landed on Jason's shoulder, and he flinched. "Your soul doesn't need redemption."

Jason scowled at him. "Because I'm too far gone?" He'd heard those words before. From Bruce, from Dick, from Tim, from Babs. Maybe not in that exact configuration, but always with the same intent.

"No." Hal shook his head. "Because there is nothing for you to repent for." He didn't look like he was lying. "That's an impartial truth. I would know better than anyone if your soul was damned."

A bitter laugh escaped Jason as the only way he could figure out how to express the weird emotion bubbling up inside him. "So what, you're saying me, of all people, will see the pearly gates again?"

"Maybe." Hal shrugged. "Destiny isn't… fate isn't what you think it is. I don't know who you'll be tomorrow. But I know who you are now, kid."

"Don't call me that."

"Why?" Hal challenged him. "Because you're afraid of being seen? Known? Taken care of, again?" He squeezed Jason's shoulder. "You forget I can see right through you."

"Don't do that," Jason snapped, throwing Hal's hand off. "I'm not a pity project."

"And I don't pity you," he paused, then smiled. "Kid."

Jason punched him in the arm. He doubted it hurt, but Hal still let him do it anyway. "Bruce was right. You are a dick."

"Old habits." Hal full-on grinned, beautiful and bright. "This is a depressing job. I've gotta find the humor in the little things. Like annoying the mercenary I keep running into."

"Don't make it sound like a thing." Jason wrinkled his nose. "It's not a thing."

Hal just raised an eyebrow. "A thing," he repeated.

There was a lot layered into that word. Unspoken, dangerous things.

A lot of tempting things, even.

Which, in a roundabout way, probably made them more dangerous.

"I've got way too many daddy issues for you to get suggestive like that," Jason said plainly. He didn't beat around the bush. In his few brushes with attempting romance, he'd always been told he wasn't the best flirt, but he made up for it in boldness.

Hal made a noise that was hard to decipher. "And you loudly think about how handsome I am." He winced at the look Jason gave him. "It's not like I'm trying to notice. You project your thoughts."

"I project my thoughts," Jason repeated.

"That, or I've got a big ego not even death could kill and like to notice when people think about me like that," Hal admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't actually look guilty. Not with that shit-eating grin. "Cut a guy some slack. The girl I was in love with got married while I was dead. I'm rusty."

"Rusty and into guys you call kid?" Jason shot back. He wasn't angry with it, though. A part of him could almost admit, this was a little fun.

"You're into me," Hal corrected quickly. "I'm just… noticing."

"Right." Jason looked him up and down. Were his thoughts really that loud? He hadn't even noticed them internally. Hal was easy to stare at, when it was clear he radiated something dangerous and powerful under that human mask.

And they'd only met twice. Was Jason really that pathetic?

"Hey, I didn't say that," Hal rushed out.

Jason knew his face was red. "Out," he ordered. "You don't get to be in my head if you're gonna dance around this with me." It was humiliating, having his thoughts read. Bruce trained him for that, like he trained Jason for everything, but still, it was one of those things that always made the hair on the back of Jason's neck stand with discomfort.

"I'm sorry." Hal knew he'd fucked up, cringing. "It's hard not to, I-"

"I don't care," Jason said. "As much as I enjoy these deep, weird conversations we have, we're not that close." Jason was already walking toward the door. Running, as others else who knew him in the past would probably put it.

Jason used to run toward love, usually barrelling straight into its metaphorical knife.

Now, he ran away from a guy he barely knew at just the mere thought of what could be.

"See you around," Jason tossed over his shoulder, as an afterthought that felt as awkward as it sounded coming out of his mouth. He didn't know if it was a promise, a threat.

Or a request.

Whichever it was, Hal didn't move. He didn't chase Jason or shout something after him. He just watched Jason leave.

True to his words, Jason did see Hal around.

It was a longer gap this time, and it sort of made Jason stir crazy. He went over their conversation a thousand times and wondered if he'd gone too far and gotten too bold with what he said. Maybe he read into it. Maybe he made Hal uncomfortable, and Hal was too nice to tell him so.

Not that Hal seemed the overly nice, sparing-feelings type. If anything, he was a little blunt and rough around the edges.

Which was just another thing trying to draw Jason in like a moth to a flame.

He even tried to track Hal down.

It was a stupid plan the moment he started to try. The best he found was some internet forums of people sharing experiences of the 'angel' they had met, which convinced them to be a better person. An angel with white skin and green robes.

Hal obviously had no pattern. And he could be in more than one place. He wasn't a person, just a ghost for Jason to find glimpses of scattered online.

It wasn't like he should care so much anyway.

Love wasn't easy for Jason. Especially not romantic love, which this seemed to be dancing around. Jason wasn't sure if he felt romantic love, even on his good days. If Hal was suggesting what Jason thought he was, would he be able to accept that as part of the deal? That Jason was emotional, but usually in all the wrong ways?

It shouldn't have mattered to Jason, but it did. So he kept looking into Hal, until it dawned on him the easiest way to find Hal would be the exact way he'd been doing it so far.

Redemption was Hal's whole thing. So Jason had to find people to kill bad enough to need divine interference just for the chance to be good.

In simpler words? He needed bait.

Of course, it took a few tries. Jason had no guidebook for how Hal chose his targets, and frankly, it didn't seem like Hal did either. Hal just ping-ponged around in search of souls he could redeem. In a way, Jason was doing the same thing, just with a different end result.

Eventually, though, it worked, after two long months.

"I was starting to get bored, you know," Jason hummed, not bothering to look over his shoulder. He knew it was Hal, not from the flash of light, but from the tug in his gut and the way his nerves felt washed over by Hal's presence. He didn't let go of his victim, some big fish in a local cartel known for beating on his girlfriends. "Thought you retired, or something."

Hal stepped forward, cape fluttering in the wind of the cold alley they were in. "You make it sound like you were looking for me." He took another step, reaching out for Jason's victim. "May I?"

Jason shrugged. "You can try. You know what the outcome is going to be." He already had his gun cocked. He didn't acknowledge the accusation. It wasn't like Jason could lie to Hal. He'd learned better than that.

"I have to try," Hal insisted.

So they did the usual song and dance. Jason stepped back, and Hal spoke his usual diatribe. The drug dealer just fought, thrashing the whole way through Hal's speech, seeming to be listening to it even less than Jason was. Jason was listening, in a way. Not to Hal's words, but definitely soaking in the way his voice could fill a space and wrap around Jason's existence, holding onto him like a coiling snake. Warm, but a little threatening.

Jason waited until Hal started sounding frustrated, slightly shaking the man. Then he reached around and waved his gun as a warning before firing it.

Hal just sighed, dropping the corpse.

"I keep telling you not everyone deserves redemption," Jason said lightly. He wasn't really interested in the usual back and forth, but it was an old habit to kick. "I'm sorry, by the way." He rushed the words out before he lost his stomach to say them.

Flickering into his normal, everyday look, Hal looked at Jason with a frown. "For killing him?"

"No." Jason made a face at just the thought of ever feeling bad about murder. "For… you know. snapping at you the last time, even though you told me you don't really have a handle on your spooky cosmic powers." The words were stupid, and Jason cringed internally. There was no fluidity or ease to the apology, just a mess of regret that made Jason feel like he'd inadvertently pushed Hal away.

Or, not inadvertently. He'd done it on purpose.

And for what? To protect himself from being hurt again?

"Oh." Hal blinked, then smiled. "No, that's okay. I get it. Don't worry about it, kid."

"There you go with the 'kid' thing again." Jason threw his hand up for dramatic effect. "I take back my apology."

Hal laughed, and it was stunning, the way he tossed his head back and ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry. Habits. I shouldn't. You're… well, you're still young but…" He seemed to lose where he was going with the train of thought, studying Jason with a startling intensity.

"Yeah, trauma ages you," Jason said, trying not to squirm.

"It's not that." Hal shook his head. "It's… you know." He stuffed his pockets. "You're independent. You're clearly good at what you do."

"Clearly," Jason echoed, mulling over how Hal said it.

"You're competent," Hal said. "I guess that's what I'm trying to say. Still a little immature but…" Hal shrugged. "I'm one to talk."

"Yeah." Jason nodded in agreement. "You definitely don't have your shit together."

"You have no idea." Hal grinned, taking no insult from the jab. "No one would've picked me for this job if they weren't desperate."

"And no one picks me at all," Jason replied, reveling in his self-deprecation. "Great pair we make."

"I'd pick you."

Jason flinched. "What?"

Hal's eyes widened, like he didn't mean to even say the words. He sputtered, mouth opening and closing. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I didn't mean… I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"What did you mean then?" Jason pressed. He took a step forward, close enough to smell Hal. There was nothing human to scent, no cologne or shampoo or even plain old body odor. Hal smelled like ozone and nuclear explosions. It was what Jason imagined the inside of a star might smell like, undefinable and lasting.

"I…" Hal's cheeks turned red. He wiped his hand over his face. "God, I'm still not a good man. You're young enough to be my kid."

"You said you'd stop it with the kid shit."

"How long were you dead?" Hal asked suddenly.

Jason was growing impatient with the beating around the bush. "Six months."

"So you're what…" Hal looked like he was trying to do math.

"Old enough," Jason said firmly. It was true. He didn't really keep track, but according to his birth certificate, Jason was nineteen and some change.

"To drink?" Hal asked.

"Is that what you're suggesting? To buy me a drink?" Jason leered. He reached up and took off his domino mask. Hal probably had the ability to see through it either way, but it felt far more intimate this way, to lock his eyes on Hal and know Hal couldn't look away.

It worked enough to force Hal into eye contact he didn't seem capable of breaking.

"Oh, Bruce is gonna kill me twice," Hal muttered under his breath. He closed his eyes, steeled himself, then opened them, giving Jason a warm smile. "How serious were you about those… daddy issues?" It was a joke, and a pretty bad one at that, which seemed to be Hal's specialty. It still made Jason snort.

"I've been running around killing people trying to get the attention of a guy older than my father," Jason said. He figured if he was going to press Hal this hard, there was no reason for him to be hiding his truths. "You tell me."

"You've been-" Hal looked shocked as it dawned on him. "Oh. Well, you could've just said that. There are easier ways to get my attention."

"It doesn't look like you've got a landline."

Hal chuckled, breathy and incredulous. "No. But I'm almost omnipotent. Hell, Jason, you could've just said my name. I would've heard you."

"Good to know," Jason murmured, bringing his lips in close, right up to Hal's ear, "Hal Jordan."

Hal grabbed Jason's arm with a vice grip, pulling him in closer. "Jesus," he muttered. He was breathing hard. Did he even need to breathe? Jason sure as hell had no idea, but at least it was good to know he could be flustered either way. "I'm never getting into Heaven."

"You and me both." Jason shrugged. "It was overrated anyway."

"Do you-" Hal swallowed. "Do you have a place…?"

"It's not a nice one," Jason warned. It was a safehouse, and not one of the ones he'd taken time to make homey since he'd only used it a few times. There was a bed and all the other necessities, but also a mean draft and noisy neighbors.

"I'm not high maintenance," Hal promised.

Jason snorted. "Didn't you date Carol Ferris?" He'd read all about that while researching Hal.

"Not for her money." Hal sounded a little offended. "Bringing up a guy's ex isn't a great way into his pants, you know."

"I'm not great at flirting," Jason admitted. "I get by on other charms."

"Oh, I believe that." Hal's voice dropped an octave and sounded downright sinful.

"Come on." Jason regretfully pulled away. "I've got a car up the road."

"You know I can just teleport us there," Hal said, catching up as Jason started to walk out of the alleyway.

Jason waved his hand. "Teleportation always makes me queasy. And there's no fun in it. It's a nice car," he promised, which was true. Jason liked cars, and they were one of the few luxuries he allowed himself to stash away in the cities he frequented heavily for work. Nice, fancy little sports cars that were always overpriced and luxurious with features he'd never need.

"If you want to waste the gas," Hal said. Side by side, without Jason's mask on, they almost looked normal. Hal's look made Jason blend in a little more, with his all-black gear coming across as more of a fashion statement than anything else.

Jason pulled the keys out of his pocket and unlocked his car. A red Corvette.

Hal whistled in appreciation. "Maybe I do do this for the money." He cracked, getting in the passenger seat.

"Very funny." Jason turned on the car and tried to hide his smile.

It was a short drive. Hal's humor didn't get any better during it, and Jason would've told him to shut up more than once. But he had to admit, it was nice to see Hal relax a bit and get to be just Hal Jordan, not the Spectre. It didn't look like he did that much.

The only real unforgivable thing was Hal putting his dirty boots on Jason's dashboard, but Jason could make Hal clean it later.

For now, there were more interesting things ahead of them, if Jason stayed as lucky as he felt, in this nice microcosm of his life.

Jason led Hal into the run-down apartment that technically was supposed to be abandoned. But the electricity and plumbing were still turned on to support the units next door, so Jason got to keep it for free and keep under anyone's radar.

"Homey," Hal mused as he stepped inside, taking in the bare walls and simple furniture.

"I warned you." Jason pulled off his jacket and started undoing the straps of all his weapons. He dropped them all haphazardly to the floor.

"I don't mind," Hal promised. The only thing he seemed to be minding at all was the sight of Jason pulling off his armor. He looked downright hungry, giving Jason a kind of precious attention he hadn't had in way too long.

He was really doing this. Inviting some guy into one of his safehouses, just for a cheap fuck.

Not cheap, hopefully. And not just some guy. Nothing about Hal could be compared to a one-night stand.

"Well, are you just going to stand there and watch or what?" Jason said over his shoulder, kicking off his boots and socks.

Jason was reminded in that moment that Hal wasn't entirely human anymore.

The speed at which Hal rushed to Jason to get his hands all over Jason's body was enough to knock the wind out of Jason's lungs. Large, strong hands that curled around Jason's hips and lifted him up like he weighed nothing, pinning him against the wall. Not with an extreme force, but certainly a possessive one. The lips on Jason's skin were warmer than Jason expected.

Again, just like his smell, Hal tasted like something indescribable. Jason melted into it and let Hal's tongue push into his mouth, wet and wanting. Jason pushed his hands under Hal's jacket, pulling apart the buttons of the white shirt he always wore. It was probably just a construct anyway, so Jason had nothing to feel guilty about when buttons clattered to the floor.

Hal moved, kissing down Jason's jawline.

"You're… warm," Jason breathed, tilting his head back.

"Yeah." Hal's words vibrated against Jason's skin. "I figured if I was cold to the touch like I normally am, it'd be weird, so I tried to adjust… it's not too warm, is it?" The concern in his voice was so uncharacteristic of the type of hookups Jason usually had. Jason was being held and worshipped, and it was dizzying.

"Fuck, no." Jason shook his head. Maybe it was a bit warmer than the average person ran, but if anything, Jason liked that more. Hal was as physically hot as he looked. Jason pressed his palm against Hal's abs, soaking the heat up like a sponge as Hal kissed down to his neck.

"You have no idea…" Hal spoke between fervent kisses, "what it was like, watching you kill those people."

"Unnerving?" Jason took a guess.

Hal emphatically shook his head. "Intoxicating." Such a flowery praise from Hal's lips made Jason shudder. "You don't doubt yourself. You don't hesitate. You're brutal and efficient and… fuck." Hal actually moaned, rocking his hips slightly against Jason. It pulled a noise out of Jason that almost could've been called a whimper. He wrapped his legs around Hal's hips to steady himself.

His work had been appreciated by other experts all the time, sure. Jason got his fair share of compliments on technique and skill.

But not like this. Not in a way that made Jason feel worshipped.

Hal pulled at Jason's layers, letting things clatter to the ground until Jason was topless. Jason had stopped being self-conscious of his top surgery scars a while ago, especially when they started to blend in with his other scars.

Should he even tell Hal he was trans? Or was that just information Hal would intrinsically know, like he seemed to know every other part of Jason's soul?

The question answered itself when Hal singled out Jason's top surgery scars, pressing a sweet kiss against each one. An unspoken show of acceptance and even more reverence for Jason's body.

"Handsome," Hal murmured, running his hands up Jason's back. Jason tilted his head back and allowed himself a soft moan as heat pooled in his stomach.

"Yeah, get a look at yourself," Jason cracked, managing a smile through the warm haze of pleasure starting to pull him under.

Hal chuckled, kissing more of Jason's chest. He caught one of Jason's nipples in his mouth, and Jason squirmed at the soft bite and tug against his sensitive flesh. He buried his fingers in Hal's hair and gave a hard yank. Hal groaned, low in his throat.

"Can I…" Hal swallowed, looking up at Jason with pupils blown so wide it was hard to see the warm brown irises. "Can I go down on you?"

"Jesus," Jason swore. "Do you even have to ask?"

Hal shrugged. "Figured it'd be polite. And maybe-" he kissed Jason's navel- "I want to hear you say please."

Bastard. Evil little bastard who was going to drive Jason mad if he kept up his cocky little attitude the whole time. Jason wanted to snark right back.

But he wanted other things more.

"Yes," Jason said with force. "Yes, please, fuck. Please do that."

Hal made a beautiful, pleased noise. Instead of setting Jason down, he just hiked Jason up more until Hal was eye-level with Jason's crotch and unbuttoning his pants. Jason was almost positive he was being held up not just by Hal's grip but also by some sort of magic. His body was steady and weightless, without an ounce of fear that Hal might drop him.

Jason's tactical pants were tugged off and tossed aside, along with his boxers. Again, the usual anxieties Jason had about sex melted away under Hal's gaze. He wasn't conscious about someone looking at his cunt and seeing Jason's body up close when it was Hal's eyes on him. Usually, Jason was a 'fuck with the lights off' sort of guy.

But right now, he wanted to see everything.

Like the sight of Hal leaning in to kiss Jason's inner thighs. And then bite. Jason jerked and whined, watching Hal imprint his teeth into Jason's skin until it left marks.

"Please," Jason whined, with a little more intention behind the word this time. Hal just ignored him, painting the canvas of Jason's thighs red and purple with deep bruises as he sucked marks over every inch of skin he could reach. With his hands holding Jason's hips as tightly as they were, Jason was going to have bruises there, too.

He would be marked for days.

"Hal," Jason begged, pulling as hard as he could at Hal's white and brown hair.

Finally, as if he was taking pity on Jason's desperate show of neediness, Hal moved his mouth to Jason's cunt. His tongue lapped in slow, flat strokes over Jason's folds, getting used to the shape of Jason's flesh. More and more noises were pulled out of Jason.

It was good. Warm and sweet and everything Jason needed.

Hal pushed his tongue inside of Jason and worked at Jason's hole, flicking and curling upward until Jason was moaning. It was barely a tease, not nearly deep or full enough to give Jason what he actually wanted, and Jason was pretty sure Hal was doing it on purpose, just to be a little shit.

After a few more maddening thrusts of his tongue, getting a full taste of Jason's wetness, Hal moved his mouth upward. He wrapped his lips around Jason's clit. Jason took testosterone on a tight and careful schedule, and it had given him a decent amount of bottom growth. Nothing that looked like a proper dick, but more than enough for Hal to slot into his mouth and suck on anyway.

"Fuck!" Jason shouted. His hips jerked, and he was vaguely aware he was riding Hal's face to the point it might've been hard for Hal to breathe. "Oh fuck, yes, yes."

Hal groaned. He looked up at Jason, eyes wide and drinking in the sight of Jason's pleasure. The way every flick of his tongue over the tip of Jason's clit made Jason squirm. Jason's legs, which were wrapped around Hal's shoulders, kicked uselessly. His body didn't know what to do with the rush of pleasure.

Of course, someone as old as Hal would be experienced and talented. He knew how to work his tongue like Jason's body was an old friend that Hal knew exactly how to melt into. Jason was falling apart in minutes, making pathetic noises he didn't know he was even capable of.

His whole body was coiled like a spring. Wrapping tighter and tighter around Hal.

Jason's thighs squeezed around Hal's head.

"Close," Jason warned, his hips bucking wildly. "Fuck, Hal. I'm so close, don't stop, please please please." There were tears in Jason's eyes. He wanted to keep watching Hal pleasure him, but his eyes rolled back under the onslaught of pleasure. Jason's whole body started to shake.

Like an experienced lover, Hal knew to keep doing exactly what he was doing. He kept the same pressure and pace, working his tongue in strong motions over Jason's clit as he sucked. Jason didn't realize Hal had adjusted his grip on Jason until he felt two fingers push into his entrance and curl upward right there and-

Jason exploded with pleasure.

Or at least, it felt like he did.

He was inside a supernova, even if just for a moment. His whole body seized with his orgasm, clamping down around Hal's long fingers and riding it out as they rubbed against his g-spot. Jason slammed his hand against the wall and briefly wondered how his loud fucking neighbors felt getting a taste of their own medicine with all the noise Jason was making.

Jason came down from his high with a needy whimper, his body trembling its way into overstimulation. Hal pulled off Jason's clit, not testing his limits. But he kept his fingers inside of Jason, filling him up. Not quite as much as Jason wanted to be filled up, but enough to let his body go lax for the moment.

"Good boy," Hal praised, kissing Jason's thighs again, right over a bruise he'd left. "You look fucking gorgeous. So pretty when you're all mine." Hal sounded mindless, spilling praise from his lips like he wasn't even thinking about the words, just spewing a stream of consciousness.

It left Jason's skin buzzing, and he sighed, deep in his chest, pleased.

Hal carefully lowered Jason to the ground, fingers still deep inside of Jason's cunt. Jason's legs didn't have enough feeling to hold himself up yet, so Hal still supported his body weight.

They were silent for a moment, and Jason followed Hal's gaze to the ground, studying one of Jason's discarded knives.

It was technically a hunting knife, with a wicked blade and a thick handle with grooves for Jason's fingers to wrap around. He'd had it custom-made to fill his large palm, making for an easy grip when he swung it around. A heavy thing Jason didn't get to use much, but one of Jason's favorites.

"What're you thinking about?" Jason asked, head still a little fuzzy from his orgasm.

Hal blinked and shook himself out of his thoughts, eyes snapping back to Jason. He looked like he'd been caught red-handed. "Nothing."

"Liar."

"Okay, fine," Hal admitted, cheeks flushing. "It's… I don't want to… do anything you don't want to do," he started.

"Do you want to stab me?" Jason asked lazily. His easy tone startled Hal even more. It wouldn't have been the first time someone brought up the concept during sex with Jason.

"No! Christ." Hal shook his head. "I- well. That's not the end I was thinking about putting inside you, at least."

Oh.

That was new for Jason.

Before he could even verbalize an answer, it was clear Hal felt the way Jason's cunt clenched.

"Fuck," Hal muttered, eyes going a little wide. "Yeah?"

Jason nodded. "Yeah. You could. If you wanted." It was such a lewd, dangerous image in his mind. The blade sticking out of Jason, how careful he'd have to be to keep from it slicing open his skin as Hal worked that thick fucking handle inside. Jason's cunt clenched again.

"Are you sure?" Hal frowned a bit.

"Well, if you don't stick something phallic-shaped in me, I'm going to stab you with it," Jason threatened with no real heat. But the joke was enough to bleed tension from Hal's shoulder and make them both smile. "Yes, please." Jason threw in the begging just to see the way it made Hal's eyes darken. "You can do whatever you want to me. I trust you."

As terrifying as that statement was, it was true.

Jason figured he was in too deep to think about it right now.

"I won't let it hurt you," Hal promised. He pulled his fingers out, and Jason whined, watching him pick up the knife. "I've got you."

Jason figured that was a given, but it was still nice to hear it.

"Spread your legs." It was a proper order, and Jason was suddenly reminded that Hal had a military background. His legs snapped open, making space for Hal, and he whimpered slightly. A reaction that Hal instantly picked up on, giving Jason a wicked grin. "You could've just told me you like being bossed around."

"I was hoping you'd figure it out on your own," Jason admitted. He always struggled to vocalize his kinks. He liked to lie back and just take whatever his partners offered. It made things simpler, even if they weren't always enjoyable.

Hal narrowed his eyes, but didn't make a comment. He spun the knife around in his hand to grip it by the blade, seemingly unworried about cutting his own hand. Jason wondered if there was any blade on earth that could slice Hal's flesh.

Questions for another time.

For now, though, the hilt was being pressed to Jason's entrance. Jason relaxed as best he could. It was thicker than a cock and a blunt pressure against his hole.

"Tell me if it hurts?" Hal asked.

Jason shook his head. "I like it when it hurts. Don't treat me like I'm fragile, Jordan."

Hal swore under his breath. He gripped Jason's hip with his other hand, holding Jason steady. "In that case, be good and hold still." He used that same commanding tone of voice that made Jason feel like a soldier obeying an outranking officer.

Jason froze, hands clenching at his sides until his fingernails bit into his palms.

The first push was the worst. The stretch of pain made him whine as his body was forced open. He flinched, but Hal held him steady. A high-pitched noise tore from Jason's throat, but still, he could feel his arousal dripping down his legs.

Hal was firm and unrelenting. He pushed until the hilt breached Jason. Jason's body gave in, and he cried out.

"Good," Hal whispered. "You can take it. Just keep yourself nice and loose for me." His words were like fucking ambrosia, and Jason whined, reaching out for Hal. "No," Hal said firmly. "Keep your hands against the wall until I say so."

Hal Jordan was an asshole, and if Jason wasn't so dizzy on pleasure, he would've been proud to tell Hal that. Instead, he just obeyed, pressing his flat palms against the wall.

The feeling of the hilt getting pushed in made Jason's stomach swoop. He moaned when a ridge pushed into his body and rubbed up against his walls. Hal kept pressing the hilt in further until the second and third ridges slipped in, and the handle was finally fully seated inside of Jason. It was only about five and a half inches long, but the thickness and shape made him feel stretched wide and so full he was shaking.

"That…" Hal pressed his palm against Jason's stomach, pressing on the hilt from the other side to make Jason squeal. "That's the hottest thing I've ever fucking seen." He didn't pull the hilt out, but fucked it inside of Jason just a little bit, with a quick and hard thrusting motion.

Jason screamed. His body wanted to snap his legs shut, wanted to bear down on the knife to get it even deeper. But he knew the sharp danger between his legs that awaited him if he tried that. He was tense with the effort to keep his legs open and his body still. Trapped in place without an inch of bondage, played like an instrument by Hal.

"You're perfect like this," Hal laid on the praise thick. "Putting yourself in danger just because I asked… trusting me, god." Hal let go of Jason's hip to palm his crotch, and Jason's mouth watered.

"Can I suck you off? Please?" Jason blurted out, licking his lips.

Hal made a strangled noise. He considered it for a moment. "Can you keep that inside of you on your own? Without your hands?" He asked, voice husky with lust. "Hold onto it like a good slut?"

Jason nodded desperately. "I can," he insisted. "I can, please. I can be good. Just let me make you feel good." All of this had been all about Jason's pleasure. He wanted to know what Hal looked like, what he sounded like, when he was the one being worshipped.

"Good." Hal brushed his fingers through Jason's sweaty hair. "Go on, then. Show me." His other hand let go of the blade and went to undo his belt.

Without Hal holding the blade steady, Jason whined and clamped down. It dawned on him exactly what he had gotten himself into, and how much exertion it took to make sure the knife didn't slip out. The ridges helped hold it in place, but the weight of the blade was more than he expected, more than his body was used to with a typical plug or dildo. He had trained his strength plenty, but this was admittedly a new area for his body to test its limits.

But Jason would be damned if he backed down from a challenge.

The hardest part was actually getting on his knees. He winced through the struggle of keeping his muscles clenched without closing his legs around the blade. It was a slow process before Jason sank down, all while Hal toyed with his hair. Jason couldn't relax completely on his knees, not without the blade hitting the ground and getting forced deeper inside of him. So he was slightly raised, a little higher than he needed to be to get to Hal's crotch.

Hal pulled out his already hard dick without much fanfare.

"You good?" Hal asked, his thumb stroking Jason's cheek.

Jason nodded eagerly. Hal was long, his hand already leisurely sliding up and down his length.

"Put your hands behind your back," Hal said sternly. "I just want your mouth, okay?"

"Okay," Jason breathed, lacing his fingers against the small of his spine.

Hal guided his tip into Jason's waiting mouth. A salty taste was on his tongue. He started by licking up the length and back down, getting used to Hal's skin. Hal didn't rush him. He just held Jason loosely by his hair and admired him as he used his tongue. Lapping at the underside of Hal's cock, then over his balls just for good measure.

It was a nice scent. Still ozone-y and spacedust-like, but there was finally a hint of normal musk that Jason drank up like a man dying of thirst. He licked at Hal's sac while Hal moaned and flexed his hips. Not quite thrusting, but slightly grinding his cock against Jason's face.

This was definitely better than any Heaven Jason had ever been to. He could live and die like this, licking and sucking on Hal's balls with a deep weight buried in his cunt.

Finally, Jason managed to drag himself back up Hal's length, wrapping his lips around the tip and slowly sinking down. Jason didn't have a perfect gag reflex by any means, but he liked to think he was somewhat decent at sucking cock. It only took him a few tries of sliding up and down Hal's length before he managed to swallow around it and let Hal's cock breach his throat and make space for him. Jason swallowed right down to the hilt, his nose buried in the neatly trimmed nest of curls at the base.

"Oh my god," Hal moaned. His grip on Jason's hair tightened. "Jesus Christ, fucking look at you."

Jason downright purred at the praise, vibrating around Hal's cock. He stayed like that, with Hal buried inside him, until his lungs started to protest. Then he pulled back just enough to breathe in, finding a pace that was most comfortable for him. Breathing out as he slid off, then in as he swallowed back down. It was a rhythm that seemed pleasing enough to Hal, who was letting out a steady litany of noises above Jason that warmed his bones.

Jason's concentration was rocked when he felt something toying with his clit.

It felt like a hand, as impossible as that was, with both of Hal's hands on Jason's head. Some weird magic trick, then. Because Hal had that mean fucking smirk, watching Jason choke and gag in surprise.

It took everything Jason had not to clamp his legs shut on instinct against the new pleasure. He was still deeply aware of the heavy knife between his legs and how tightly he was holding onto it. He struggled not to let it slip as phantom fingers tugged on his clit, toying with it at a pace that Hal seemed to set just to please himself. Jason tried to beg with his eyes for some kind of relief. To get across how desperate and taut his body was.

"You can do it," Hal soothed, rubbing a thumb over tears that Jason didn't even realize he'd shed. "You told me you could. You're not gonna go back on that promise, are you?"

Jason shook his head as best he could. He took a steady deep breath, trying to ignore the maddening pleasure that teased his core. He found his pace again, even as Hal pulled out little noises from his chest.

"I can feel how desperate you are," Hal said on a long moan. "It's impossible not to, fuck. You're electric, Jason."

He keened in response. Hal knew exactly what strings to pull at with Jason, not quite degrading him but definitely reminding him of his place, beneath Hal. As if Jason didn't know. The reminder was nice, though. It made his thoughts turn off. It made his pleasure easier to ignore. He was beneath Hal. He needed to focus on just Hal's pleasure. The only thing Jason's own body needed to do was be useful.

And not drop the damned knife.

Jason sped up as much as he could, while still getting enough air in his lungs. Hal wrapped a hand around his throat and massaged his dick like Jason was a fleshlight. That, alongside a harsh flick to Jason's clit from the phantom hand, had Jason screaming around Hal's cock, nearly biting down.

"Just like that," Hal groaned. His hips were thrusting shallow and rough. Eventually, Jason got the message to stop moving and just let Hal fuck his throat. Use him. Jason gagged on the first few thrusts. It was hard to keep his throat relaxed while his bottom half was so tense. But he managed to figure it out, much to Hal's delight. "Good boy. Fuck, you're made for this, Jason. Fuck!"

Hal buried himself deep, and Jason tasted cum in the back of his throat. He swallowed around it as best he could, with Hal's hand still massaging the column of his throat. He blinked through tears so he could get a good look at Hal's face as he came. The way Hal's eyes screwed shut and his mouth hung open with a loud moan. It didn't matter that Jason couldn't breathe. He'd stay like this as long as Hal needed him to.

When Hal finally pulled out, Jason used all his strength to not collapse. His clit was still getting stroked, and he whimpered, throat raw and used.

"Beautiful," Hal murmured, cupping Jason's chin. He didn't bother tucking his dick in. It was still half hard, and Jason figured Hal could magic away his refractory period, the same way he could magic away anything else. Hal reached down and pulled Jason to his feet. Jason leaned his full body weight against Hal, hips jerking with their own accord at the constant stimulation on his clit.

Hal gripped the knife and slowly pulled it out. Jason felt every inch drag across his sensitive hole. He howled. The knife was tossed to the ground, wet with Jason's slick. And Jason felt like he was gaping, empty, and hungry.

"Point me in the direction of the bedroom?" Hal asked kindly, kissing Jason's sweaty temple.

Jason nodded. He pointed to a door down a hallway, and Hal had the audacity to pick Jason up and carry him in that direction.

Asshole.

Jason was laid gently in his bed, which was probably the nicest thing in the whole apartment. The torment on his clit finally let up, and he lay there, boneless and twitching.

But still hungry and waiting to see what Hal would do next.

Hal shucked his clothing, tossing it to the ground. He was a fucking vision naked, with hardened muscles and a perfect figure. A nice ass too.

On Jason's dresser was an array of weaponry. Knives, guns, grenades, all laid out for him to have his pick before a mission. Hal paused, looking at i,t and Jason waited, curious to see where Hal was going with it.

"Do you still trust me?" Hal asked, something glinting in his eyes.

Jason nodded with zero hesitation.

Hal smiled. Carefully, he selected one of Jason's guns this time. A long-range pistol, with a barrel that actually managed to be longer than Hal's dick, though not as thick. Hal unloaded it, carefully setting the bullets on the dresser. He walked over to the bed, crawling on top of Jason with the gun in one hand.

All of Bruce's safety lessons about guns always emphasized treating every gun like it was loaded. But even if Jason hadn't seen Hal unload it, he'd have trusted Hal either way. Hal had enough experience to not be stupid with firearms.

Well. Jason supposed this was pretty stupid on a technical level, but that was beside the point. The point was, it was fucking hot, watching Hal trace the barrel over Jason's jugular, then down his chest and stomach.

Right to his cunt.

"You took that knife so well," Hal praised, words sweet and sticky like honey. With his other hand, he fisted his cock back to full hardness. He laid the barrel of the gun against his length, and Jason was starting to get where he was going. "You've gotta be nice and stretched out, right?" He rubbed his cock back and forth over Jason's entrance, and Jason spread his legs to make more room, whining slightly. "You'll be good for me, and show me how much you can take at once, right?" As sweet as the question was worded, it had that deadly undercurrent of an order to it that sent sparks up Jason's spine.

Jason nodded. "Yeah," he whispered, even if some part of him doubted his body. Could he take Hal's dick and his own fucking gun at the same time?

Even if he couldn't, he sure as hell wanted to try.

Hal groaned at the confirmation. "So eager to please," he purred.

Hal started with his cock. He lined up properly and pushed in. And fuck, he was right. The hilt of the knife had stretched Jason out so much that it was almost too easy a slide in. Jason felt loose and fucked out. He made a wanton noise, throwing his head back against his pillow.

"I know," Hal soothed. He rubbed his hand over Jason's stomach. "I can feel how loose you are, too. I'll fill you up. Just relax and take it."

He was nice enough to start with fingers. Hal pushed in one, then two fingers in alongside his cock. He fucked in and out, just slow enough to loosen Jason up, not enough for either of them to feel any real kind of pleasure from it. Jason whined in frustration. There was too much tension in his core and not enough pleasure to soothe it. He bucked his hips, hard enough to get his point across.

"Be patient." Hal swatted Jason's thigh. Barely hard enough to hurt, but enough to make his skin jump. "I don't want to break you. Not yet." The last two words were muttered to himself under his breath. They made Jason flutter around Hal's cock and fingers.

A third finger breached Jason, and there was a proper stretch this time, actually rivaling the way the hilt had pulled him open. Hal twisted and spread his fingers, tugging at Jason's cunt to force it open. He was going to lose his fucking mind over this teasing.

Hal rubbed at Jason's clit with his thumb. It made him loosen up more, his body singing with the pleasure even as it became overstimulating.

And finally, Hal pulled his fingers out. He pulled out his cock too, and Jason was ready to swear at him, until he saw Hal lining up his cock with the gun right beside it.

Jesus Christ. Jason was really about to get fucked by his own gun. And a guy twice his age. At the same time.

The stretch made Jason thrash.

His legs kicked at the mattress, and he dug his fingers into his pillow. He didn't fight Hal, but he probably wasn't making it an easy push in either, with how much his body squirmed and tried to pull away on instinct. It didn't deter Hal, who just kept pushing in. It was an odd combination, Hal's warm dick with the cold and unrelenting metal of the barrel, bullying their way into Jason's body. He was pulled open.

When Hal bottomed out with both his cock and the gun, there was a slight bulge against Jason's stomach. Hal pressed on it with his palm, just for fun. It made Jason cry out and jerk like a live wire some more.

He'd never been this full before. He'd never been fucked like this. His body felt fried and rewired all at once.

Hal twisted the gun around, watching Jason moan as he felt metal parts drag against his walls. He had the butt of the gun facing up, so that when he thrust in, the pressure of his hips and stomach forced the gun in deeper at the same time. Then, Hal grabbed Jason's hips, lifting him off the bed slightly.

And he let loose.

This wasn't at all like how he fucked Jason's throat. This fucking made it seem like Hal had been gentle with Jason's throat in comparison. Hal slammed into Jason with no abandon, hard enough to shake the bed and nearly fold Jason in half.

The gun was pressed against Jason's g-spot, driving into it with a painful force every time Hal pushed into his body. Hal clearly took Jason's liking of pain to heart, not holding back.

"Oh god," Jason moaned. It was all too much at once. His body didn't know how to take the pleasure and pain all at once, trying to pull him in different directions. He couldn't get used to the stretch, no matter how much he tried. It just kept splitting him open on every thrust.

He couldn't imagine it being particularly pleasurable for Hal to be fucking right against something as hard and unforgiving as a gun, but he sure as hell didn't seem to mind. Hal's face was screwed up in pleasure, groaning on every thrust. He hadn't taken his dog tags off, and they danced in front of Jason's face, swinging back and forth with every thrust like they were trying to hypnotize Jason deeper into the feeling of sex taking his being over.

It was honestly sort of working.

Or maybe it was just the sight of Hal, that deep in pleasure, sending Jason over the edge.

Jason's noises were much louder than Hal's, more animalistic and wrought. He couldn't stop them from getting dragged out of his body with every new thrust. Not when his cunt was being so thoroughly used and ruined, like it belonged to Hal instead of Jason.

Maybe it should belong to Hal for the rest of Jason's life. At the current moment, Jason couldn't find anything wrong with that idea. It seemed like a pretty fucking perfect way to live.

"It would be fucking perfect," Hal agreed, groaning. He winced, giving Jason an apologetic look. "Sorry, it's hard to stay out of your head when I'm-"

"It's… fuck- it's fine," Jason said. He couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. It wasn't like his thoughts would give away anything useful, other than how fucking horny and desperate he was for Hal. "You can. Just for now- god!"

Hal moaned in relief, slumping a little. He somehow managed to fuck harder and deeper, which Jason hadn't thought was even possible.

"I wish… fuck, I wish you knew," Hal hissed between his teeth, "how nice it is, inside your head. How you're beautiful in there, too."

Jason took a second to gather his strength and his voice to do anything but scream under the onslaught. "Because I'm thinking about you?"

Hal managed a laugh. "Only a little. You're beautiful… because you're you. I can't explain it. Especially not like this, god."

The phantom hand was back on Jason's clit. It was sloppier now, a testament to how strung out Hal was. Hal looked like he was getting close to coming, and wanted to bring Jason there with him.

How thoughtful of him.

"You can give me one more," Hal said sweetly. He leaned in close to Jason, crushing the gun between them and making it twist at an awkward angle, hitting Jason's cervix. Jason was set on fire under the new pain. He grabbed Hal, running his fingernails down Hal's back. "Come on, you've got more in you to give me, don't you? I know you want to. I know every single thought in your head." Hal was so close to Jason's face now, filling up Jason's vision. "How you want to live on my cock. How you know your cunt should be molded around me."

The fantasies were even more lewd when Hal actually spoke them out loud. Jason's back arched. He pushed into Hal's fucking, even as bad as it hurt. He focused as best he could on the way his clit was getting tugged and played with.

"Yes," Jason nodded. "Everything. Anything you want- fuck!" It was true, even if only in the heat of the moment.

"Good. Then come for me, Jason. Now."

Jason's body obeyed the order without question, before he'd even fully processed it. Like Hal reached right past Jason's mental limitations and commanded his body like a puppet on a string, pulling and pulling until Jason snapped with pleasure.

He clamped down, and the pain was blinding, making the pleasure an even brighter light behind his eyelids. Hal was probably coming inside of him, too, but it was so hard to tell, with all of Jason's nerves turning into their own little supernovas.

All he knew was that Hal was holding him through it, and it was fucking perfect.

Jason let out a final cry, and then the puppet strings were cut, making his whole body go limp, breathing ragged and heavy. Hal stayed on top of him, also going a bit boneless. Jason didn't mind the weight pinning him down. It was honestly kind of nice. Like a blanket.

When the pressure between Jason's hips went from satiated to uncomfortable, Hal instantly knew. He pulled out slowly, giving Jason a soft look of sympathy when Jason winced. Then the gun was pulled out and tossed aside for Jason to briefly consider what a bitch it would be to clean.

Hal collapsed beside Jason on the bed. He shuddered, stretched, and looked over at Jason.

The eye contact was nice.

For about a minute, anyway, then it turned a little awkward when it became clear neither of them knew what came next.

Hal opened his mouth. "Do you… want me to stay?"

The pause after the question made it clear that Hal wasn't in Jason's head anymore and was waiting for a proper, verbal answer.

"Yes," Jason spoke the word almost against his will. His dignity and pride said no, but the soreness was settling into his body alongside a deep-seated tiredness. He wanted to sleep for a week, and didn't want to do that sleeping alone.

Hal smiled, and Jason's heart warmed over, just a little bit. Hal grabbed a blanket and pulled it over them, tucking Jason into his arms. It was a hold more like how a father held his child than how two lovers embraced.

Jason somehow preferred it more.

"Do you even need sleep?" Jason asked, eyelids already heavy.

"Need? No," Hal admitted. "And I'm never really asleep. Not all of me, all at once. But it's nice," he added quickly. "I enjoy the recharge."

The answer satisfied Jason enough. He just hummed in response, tucking his head into Hal's chest and curling up more. Hopefully, he'd be able to walk tomorrow. Even if not, maybe that wouldn't be so bad, getting to keep all the ways Hal worked his body over like little trophies.

Jason drifted off in Hal's arm, surrounded by the ozone scent and too-warm body heat, into a sleep that for once in a long time was perfectly dreamless.

Unfortunately, as nice as the sleep was, Jason woke up to an empty bed.

Some things were too good to be true. He let himself wallow in the emptiness for a long few minutes, staring at his cracked ceiling. He contemplated never getting out of bed at all. Just lying there for the rest of the day, considering his life choices.

That was, until he heard his front door open.

And better yet, he smelled food.

Jason sat up, stretching. He was definitely sore. But he could walk, even if it took an undignified stumble to get to his feet. He needed a shower and maybe an exorcism for good measure, but all of that could wait. He tugged on a spare pair of boxers and a shirt, stumbling out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

"There's nothing in your fridge, by the way," Hal said, setting down bags of food. "I hope you like french toast and bacon. I had to guess. Didn't wanna wake you up."

"Did you get coffee too?" Jason asked, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

Hal held up an entire box. "I figured you could keep the leftovers."

Jason made a pleased noise. He plunked himself down at his dining table. Not that he had a dining room, just a table in the space between the living room and kitchen, with a couple of folding chairs. Hal sat in another one, unboxing the food and setting Jason a plate of food, before pouring him a cup of coffee.

"Did you sleep well?" Hal sounded... awkward. He looked like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to still be there or not. He poured his own cup of coffee, but was just fiddling with the coffee stirrer, swirling it around.

Jason grunted in a vaguely affirmative way. "No nightmares, so. The best type of sleep I can ask for." He took a swig of coffee, despite it being scalding hot. He swallowed, contemplating for a moment. "I thought you just left," he admitted, voice a little quiet and not sounding like his own.

Well, maybe it did sound like his own. Just not the Jason of now. It sounded like a younger, smaller Jason.

"No." Hal furrowed his brow, shaking his head vehemently. "I wouldn't leave without at least talking about it. I'm not that type of guy. Anymore, anyway."

That made Jason snort. He could definitely see Hal being a bit of a fuckboy, in his youth. That handsome and good at sweet talking? He probably had dozens of girls and guys to flirt with and ditch when he got bored. So wasn't Jason lucky he got a reformed, repentant Hal.

Jason rested his chin on his palm, eating a piece of bacon with his bare hand. "Well then. Talk."

It was the coward's way out, Jason was aware. Making Hal start the conversation, Jason didn't know how to have. He was too nervous to ask questions he wasn't sure he wanted answers to. Not when those answers threatened to break Jason's heart.

Maybe Hal really wasn't reformed at all. Or maybe he wanted something Jason couldn't give. Jason had always been… too particular. Wanting, but never giving enough.

"I know most of what was said last night was… said in the heat of the moment," Hal started. He ran his fingers over the chain of his tags. "I wouldn't dream of holding you to any of it." He took a sip of coffee. "But… I'd like to know where we stand. Where you're at. I don't want to… push anything onto you."

"So this is all about me then," Jason challenged. "How I feel, what I want. You've just got no feelings on it?" He wasn't being helpful. Protecting his feelings by turning it all back on Hal.

Hal sputtered. "Of course I have feelings. This is my first time being with anyone since… since I was Green Lantern." It looked like it was hard to say out loud. "Someone so young and… bright. With a real future."

"I don't have a future," Jason snapped, leaning away slightly. He had no damn reason to be prickly. "I died."

"So did I," Hal shot right back. "And I can see it, Jason. All of it. You have a future. And maybe I'd like to be in it, but-" he cut himself off, going red.

Tension released in Jason's shoulders, just a bit.

"But I won't force that," Hal softened his voice. "It's not just my choice."

"I want you there too," Jason admitted. He stared at his linoleum flooring. It was hard to look at Hal when he kept trying to overanalyze every shift in Hal's expression. A habit that made Jason feel too much like Bruce, which he always hated.

"I can be," Hal promised. "Hell, I can always be. I can never leave your side, if you want. A part of me will be next to you."

"But not all of you?"

"I'm… I don't work like that," Hal said. "There are parts of me on the other side of the galaxy, fighting alien species with names I can't even pronounce in this human tongue. But those parts of me feel more like the Spectre. This part of me… this is just me. Hal Jordan. This is the most me I've felt since…"

"Since you died?" Jason dared a look at him.

Hal's smile was impossibly sad. "Since long before that. The point is, I'm not a lesser part. And it doesn't mean I'd be any less devoted."

Jason jerked his chair back, suddenly.

"I don't do that type of love," he rushed the words out. "I don't- I don't feel love like that. At all. I can't give you what you're looking for."

"You don't know what I'm looking for." Hal frowned.

"I do," Jason snapped. "The sex comes, then the feelings happen, and people always want romance, and that's not… they think they can fix some broken thing inside of me with it." Too many people. Talia. Maybe even Bruce once, in some weird sort of way.

It never worked.

"I don't think you're broken," Hal insisted. He reached out for Jason, but Jason snapped away, jumping to his feet with his coffee cup. "And I never said that's what I was looking for!" Hal was getting frustrated, and Jason could tell.

"So just sex then?" Jason pressed.

"No." Hal ran his fingers through his hair. "Christ, do you think those are the only two options here? Are you that convinced that this can only possibly end in me hurting you?" Hal raised his voice. "Is it that hard for you to see the good in me like everyone else? You flirt with me, use me for sex, and try to push me away?" He was shaking with anger. "Is that how you are with everyone, Jason? Or just me?"

Jason tensed. "Get out."

Regret filled Hal's eyes, and he shook his head vehemently. "No, that's not what I meant-"

"I said, get out," Jason repeated, dropping his voice an octave. "Get your selfish ass out of my apartment. I don't care that you're the Spectre. I will find a way to take you out."

That was a lie. Jason didn't care. It was enough to hurt Hal more, which was all Jason wanted in the moment. Hal opened his mouth, then closed it. He just nodded.

In a flash of light, he was gone.

And once again, Jason was alone.

A Hell of his own goddamn making. Jason stared at the food. His hand was shaking to the point that the coffee was starting to spill.

Maybe Hal had a point. Regardless of what he wanted, this really did seem to be the way Jason was. He wiped his eyes before his tears could start to spill.

Jason set the coffee down and headed to the shower, leaving the food to go cold.

After that, Jason's life became monotonous. He left his feelings at the door and did job after job. He didn't even vet them as well as he used to. He just wanted people to punch and shoot and stab and kill. He wanted blood to stain his hands and his body to be sore enough that he'd collapse into sleep without thinking about how empty and cold his bed was.

A hell of his own making indeed.

Every time that little voice in the back of his mind reminded him of what Hal had said, that Jason could just call him with his name, Jason squashed it.

What was the point? For Jason to apologize?

Even if he had things to apologize for, his feelings hadn't changed. He still couldn't give Hal that kind of love. He still wanted a companionship Hal would get nothing out of, except maybe a few pity fucks now and then.

Jason hated being a pity project. Even if Hal had shards of himself to share with Jason, it didn't feel right to waste Hal's time and expect something out of him that Jason could never return.

It ripped Jason open every time. The clawing, ugly want to be loved. Without ever having the ability to love in return.

Not in the correct ways, anyway.

So Jason did what he was good at instead.

And it never got easier, like they said it did in the movies. For someone who couldn't do the romance of a relationship, Jason sure as hell could do the grief of a breakup. He wallowed and sat in the worst of his feelings for a long, ugly month.

He saw Hal's face for the briefest moment every time he pulled the trigger. Like a ghost haunting Jason, whispering about redemption. Always Jason's redemption, never the guys he was killing. Which only seemed to haunt Jason more.

He got so used to those mini hallucinations, it took him a second to register when it was actually Hal in front of him, in the flesh. Even when he didn't trust his eyes, Jason at least trusted that familiar buzzing feeling under his skin, like touching an old TV.

Or staring into the face of God.

Jason stayed so perfectly still, watching Hal work. He was almost positive Hal didn't even notice him as he gave his spiel to Jason's future victim.

"Is it my turn now?" Jason spoke carefully, when Hal dropped the man with a sigh.

Hal actually jumped. Which was a little funny, in his full Spectre mode. He looked around for a moment. "Where did you come from?" He was using his booming voice, but he sounded so baffled, it was just comedic.

"I was here the whole time." Jason stepped past Hal. "Excuse me."

He bent over and slashed the man's throat.

Hal looked downright embarrassed. Which, again, was objectively funny when he was in this form. All imposing and cosmic, yet he got the jump on him by a normal human.

"Don't look at me like that," Jason said suddenly. "If we're gonna make this weird and stare at each other, I at least want to see your real face."

It might be the last time he ever saw Hal's real face, if this went poorly. Jason figured he was owed it.

Hal nodded. He flickered into his normal self. "Jason, can I-"

"Apologize?"

"That too." Hal nodded. "But I've been thinking. And I think I need to… explain things. I can't… if your answer is no, I'll respect that. But I've barely been able to do my job thinking about you this whole time and…" Hal looked lost, eyes searching the room for something to give him strength. Nothing moved; it was just Hal, Jason, and the corpse. A merry band of misfits, all sitting in a pool of their bleeding regrets.

Jason stared. Too many what-ifs sat on his mind.

What if Hal just made it worse? What if he twisted the knife in Jason's chest, and Jason really never recovered from the guy he'd met a handful of times?

But then, in the deep recesses of his mind, glimmered the hope.

What if Hal could fix this?

What if they both could?

Jason nodded tersely. "Sure. Say whatever you need to." He pulled off his mask, stuffing it in his pocket. Quid pro quo, and all.

Hal sighed in relief. "I don't want romantic love from you," he rushed out. "If you don't want to give it."

Jason's throat closed up.

"It's… fuck it's so weird." Hal wiped his hand over his face. "It makes me feel like a creep. I know you hate the kid thing. But… I feel like I should motherhen you. It's more paternal than anything else. And then… I want you in…" He gestured vaguely, making a jerk off motion with his hand.

"Oh, that's mature," Jason deadpanned.

Hal scowled at him. "You're missing the point."

"I'm not understanding the point," Jason corrected. "Even if I'm not good at it, I know how love works."

"Have you ever considered that you don't?" Hal suggested. "I've seen your life. I see it every time I look at you. All the ways you wanted to be loved but thought were impossible. How that shaped you."

"Don't," Jason warned, stepping backward, right into the puddle of blood. Oh well. His contract did say he could get messy. "Don't wax poetic to me about my life."

"Right. Sorry." Hal held up his hands in surrender. "My point is, I'm not asking you to put yourself in a box where it's one or the other. All or nothing. I'm okay with… whatever the in-between is."

"The in-between."

"Sex, friendship, that weird feeling that you're a kid I have to look after sometimes." Again, Hal was making vague and helpless gestures.

Jason shifted. "Sounds a little too good to be true."

"Yeah," Hal nodded, looking into the distance. "So did a second chance when I died. But life is weird. And I can tell you one thing, Jason. I'm shitty at a lot of things-"

"Agreed."

"Hey," Hal scolded, but he couldn't hide his smile this time. "I'm shitty at a lot of things, but I'm one hell of an expert at the in-betweens of the universe. In-between life and death, in-between Heaven and Hell, in-between the romantic and the platonic." He paused, staring at Jason, waiting for him to get it.

Jason was still firm on his stance. Too good to be true. That was the saying, wasn't it? He couldn't have his cake and eat it too.

But god, he really wished it did. It was a nice fantasy to think about.

"I think-" Jason started.

Then the wall exploded.

A flash of green light protected Jason like a force field, making the instinctive arm he threw up to cover his face look a little useless. When the dust settled, Hal was back to looking like the Spectre, and a burly man was pointing a machine gun at both of them.

"I think you need to hold that thought," Jason said coolly, pulling a gun out. "And I think that's the twin brother of the guy I just killed." His file had warned him that he was a threat, which was why no one else had taken the job. Jason took it, feeling just a little too despondent and suicidal to really care about the risk. "I've got this one."

The man shouted something, incomprehensible in his anger. Then he charged.

Jason dodged a flurry of bullets, leaping through the air by kicking off the wall. He came down on his attacker, elbow first. They both dropped to the floor in an ugly brawl. Usually, Jason would've reveled in a fight like this, but goddamnit, he was in the middle of something, and it was just annoying now.

So he was slightly sloppier than he needed to be. In a grab to twist the man's neck, he didn't notice that the fucker had grabbed a smaller gun off of Jason's own belt and pulled the trigger blindly, just as Jason managed to twist hard enough to hear the satisfying crack of broken bone and severed spinal cord.

"Ow," Jason announced, throwing the body off of him. The bullet wasn't fatal, lodged in his right hip. But it sure as hell hurt like a bitch, bleeding through his gear.

"You're hurt." Hal rushed to his side, grabbing at Jason with icy cold hands. "Let me heal you-"

"No," Jason said immediately, even if he accepted Hal's hand pulling him up. Jason earned the wound; he could do the time on it.

Hal grunted, clearly displeased, but didn't argue further. "Can I take you to-"

"If you say hospital, so help me God-"

"I was going to say safehouse." Hal was exasperated.

Jason hissed when he tried to put weight on his foot. "Fine. You get to do the teleporting thing one time, do you understand? One-time thing."

"Just give me the address."

Even if Hal relented in not insta-healing Jason, he still insisted on dressing the wound once they got to the safehouse. Jason would've argued more if he hadn't puked on both of their shoes from the voyage.

Stupid fucking teleporting.

And of course, dutiful, ever-caring, and selfless Hal cleaned up the vomit along with the blood, not complaining once.

This was one of Jason's nicer safehouses, making him even more pissed he bled all over it. He was lying on his couch, with an ice pack against his head, pressed to a bruise he hadn't even realized he got during the scuffle.

"I'm usually not that sloppy," Jason said to Hal, who was washing his hands in the sink.

"I believe you." Hal walked over, sitting in the loveseat adjacent to Jason's couch. His jacket was draped over it, and he was in just a plain t-shirt instead of his button-up, arms on display and distracting Jason. "He got the jump on you. I just wish you had let me help."

"Didn't need your help." Jason threw an arm over his pounding head. "Still don't."

"You're allowed to want, though."

Jason had to hand it to him; it was a neat little segue into their previous conversation. He peered with a single eye out from under his arm, staring at Hal through a narrow squint.

"So, what? That's all you get out of it? The fun of taking care of me?" Jason pressed, trying to crack Hal's intentions open. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a terrible patient."

"And I've got horrid bedside manners," Hal deadpanned. "We were both swearing and saying regrettable things when I cut that bullet out."

"Oh, I don't regret a single word."

Hal snorted. "I know." His smile grew somber again. "I don't know how to explain it," he sighed. "I'm not treating you like a charity case. And I don't think you need to be redeemed."

"But you think you do," Jason pointed out. "So you help the sad little dead boy from Gotham to save your own soul, hm?"

"Oh come on, you think I couldn't find sadder sob stories if that was my goal here?"

Rude. But true. Jason chucked the ice pack at him. Hal sputtered indignantly when it smacked him in the forehead.

"I like you, Jason." Hal threw that ice pack back, much gentler than how Jason lobbed it. "Isn't that enough? I like being around you. You're like… my green light, sometimes. Something I get to look forward to in the future, running into you."

Jason was about to make a cutting reply when he paused. "Was that a Gatsby reference?"

"It was supposed to be." Hal shrugged. "I saw classic books around your last place so…"

"So…" Jason dragged out the word. "You picked up a few?"

"You have a lot of spare time when you can be anywhere at once." Hal rubbed the back of his neck. "And I thought I might… understand you better."

"I think I'm mostly shocked you can read." Jason used a joke to hide the way his heart kicked up a notch at the thought of Hal picking up a new hobby, just to feel closer to Jason.

"You make this impossible, kid." Hal smiled and they both laughed, maybe just at the absurdity of it all. "I only occasionally used the internet to help understand them."

"Cheater."

"Always have been." Hal sounded pretty proud of that. "It's how I got this far."

Jason just smiled, and it was easy.

All of this was so easy. Their banter, Hal's company.

Did Jason really have to make it so hard with all of his doubts?

Maybe. They'd done a pretty job of protecting him so far.

"I don't know," Jason admitted. "I don't know if I can… just accept all of that. With how many times I've reached out and been burnt…"

"I know." Hal nodded with such a deep understanding that Jason wished Hal were holding him and he could bury himself in the scent of the stars. "If I wasn't taking this whole redemption thing pretty seriously, I'd go burn each of them back for doing that to you."

Jason flashed a mischievous smirk. "So you're saying I missed out, not meeting you while you were Parallax? The pictures of the suit I saw looked pretty hot, actually."

"Don't joke about that." Hal threw a pillow at Jason, managing to put on a pretty serious face for all of thirty seconds before Jason's smile infected him. "I killed a lot of people back then, you know."

"Did you keep score? We can compare," Jason said blandly. Hal gave him a hard look. Jason took the hint and backed off. "I don't care about them anymore. I'm trying not to care, at least."

He was down to having nightmares about Bruce and his brood only once a week these days, so that had to count as something.

"You're making a good life for yourself without them." Hal nodded, agreeing. "But you don't have to live that life alone."

"I think it'd be weird if you were glued to my side all the time," Jason admitted. He'd pictured it once, in one of his lows. Hal watching him shower. Watching him work. Watching him shit.

It became a pretty weird fantasy pretty quickly.

"Imagine how I feel," Hal shot back. "I've got the ghost of my predecessor haunting one of my selves all the time, trying to help guide me. He doesn't even sleep. He just gives me unhelpful commentary."

"What?" Jason blinked.

"It's a long story." Hal waved him off. "I'll have to introduce you two sometime. Abin would get a kick out of you." The thought seemed to make Hal smile. "Or at least out of how happy you make me."

"Happy," Jason repeated the word like it was some kind of strange novelty.

"Believe it or not, yes. You make me very happy, Jason Todd."

Well, what a strange thought that was.

"And I don't have to be by your side all the time," Hal continued talking. "You can always call, and I'll come if you want me there."

"What about when you want me?" Jason kept trying to poke holes in the fantasy.

Hal shrugged. "I'll check in. If you're busy or not in the mood for company, no hard feelings."

"Have you considered a cell phone?"

"I kept losing mine when I was Green Lantern," Hal admitted sheepishly. "No point in one now when you'd be the only contact."

"Because your only friend is a ghost?" Jason assumed, arching an eyebrow.

Hal looked a little offended. "Some of the League still call me a friend. Ollie and I grab lunch every now and then."

"Sure." Jason put on a fake, unconvinced tone of voice just to offend Hal some more. "Whatever helps you sleep at night. Old man."

They both dissolved into laughter. Jason didn't care that the noise made his head hurt or that his hip was throbbing. He cared that he felt safe. He cared that the air was a little lighter and warmer than it had felt in so long and that…

And that this was nice.

The laughter faded out, and Hal gave Jason a contemplative look. Waiting for a real answer.

Jason's voice was stuck in his throat. There was nothing demanding to Hal. He was wringing his hands, nervous. His eyebrows were knit with concern. But no force. Just a gentle presence that seemed to slot so easily into Jason's empty spaces.

No strings, no catch.

"I don't know," Jason said, and he wanted to punch himself in the face. At least it wasn't an outright no, locking himself in a box and hiding as far away from his own happiness as he could, for fear of another proverbial crowbar.

But uncertainty was almost worse. It made Jason a coward. He couldn't side with his feelings or his logic. He just sat right in the middle, standing on a cliff. If Jason jumped and he flew, he'd be on top of the world. If he jumped and he fell, at least the finality of hitting the ground would be a pain Jason could finally move on from.

But this in-between wasn't like the gentle in-betweens Hal talked fondly about. It was one that left his body to rot on the ledge, always wondering what if.

"I need time," Jason finally decided, putting a little force into the words. "I just… I need to think about it. I've been blamed my whole life for my 'impulsive decisions'-" finger quotes went around the words- "and I just… need time to think."

"That's okay." Hal didn't look insulted or disappointed. He even managed to smile at Jason. He stood up, grabbing his jacket. When he stepped forward to brush a hand over Jason's face, for once, Jason didn't pull away. "Promise you'll call on me when you figure it out, even if it's not what I want to hear?"

"Yeah," Jason's voice broke. He owed Hal closure, at the very least.

It seemed like he owed Hal a lot of things.

"I'll just… sleep off this gunshot and think on it. And I'll call you," Jason promised, meaning every word of it. It'd be a bitch to heal, and he probably wouldn't be able to walk for a while, but that just gave him all the more time to think, didn't it?

Hal nodded. "Alright." Instead of blipping out of existence in a flash of light, he walked toward the door with heavy footsteps. He paused as he grabbed the handle. "Can I… just… one thing? One piece of perspective to offer, before I go?"

Jason stared at him. Maybe it was Hal trying to convince him. Maybe it was earnest.

Either way, what did Jason have to lose at this point?

Besides everything, anyway.

"Sure."

"It'll hurt either way," Hal spoke carefully, soft and deep words floating through Jason's head. "The two options that you think exist, in your head. Saying no and pushing me away, or saying yes and getting hurt in the long run. Both will shatter us both, I think." Hal closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. He re-opened them, giving Jason one final, fond look. "So if you're thinking about saying no just to protect yourself from that pain, I don't think it'll work out that way."

Hal didn't wait for Jason to respond. He just walked out the door with a parting smile, leaving Jason lying there in a pile of pain, turning the words over in his head.

Not a bad point.

If anything, such a good point, Jason had a hard time arguing with it.

He sighed. Grabbing his TV remote, Jason put on a cooking show he didn't care about, just as some kind of distraction. He'd think on it later, once it had all had a chance to sit on Jason and weigh on his heart until he got too heavy to move without making a real decision.

Jason didn't know how long that would take. He always did like to drag out misery. His only regret in putting off the decision would be hurting Hal, too, for all that time.

It dawned on Jason that Hal might've been the first person he loved that he didn't want to cause some kind of hurt to.

That realization dragged him into sleep while onions and peppers were being cooked on his screen.

There were no nightmares in his sleep. No good dreams either, but it was suspiciously restful, for sleeping on a couch with a gunshot wound.

Jason rubbed his eyes, blinking at the TV that was now playing some random renovation show. He wanted to stay on the couch forever, until the cushions opened up to swallow him whole. But he had to take a leak badly, so he carefully started to lift himself up, making sure not to agitate his-

His wound. His wound that didn't hurt.

Jason frowned, pressing his hand over the spot. The bandages were still there, but there was no feeling of discomfort from the skin underneath. He peeled them back, only to find himself staring at unmarred, smooth skin that had no hint of his previous injury.

Notably, his head didn't hurt either.

"Bastard," Jason said out loud, and hoped Hal was listening, wherever he was. Jason flipped the bird at the empty air for good measure.

It was hard to stay annoyed when Jason didn't have to limp and hobble to his toilet. He smiled to himself, running his fingers over the healed skin when he sank back into his couch, switching channels until he found a halfway interesting old black and white movie rerun.

It was nice not to hurt.

Jason held out for exactly five days.

He wanted to drag out his decision to a full week, just to prove he could. But deep down, he knew his mind was made up when he had curled back up on his couch and ordered french toast and bacon for delivery, that day after Hal left.

But if he called Hal back immediately, it made Jason's need for time to make his decision look a little stupid. So his pride dragged it out, and he managed to take seven different jobs in the city before he ran out of things to do. He checked out four new bookshops and an overpriced coffee and tea place that Jason wondered if Hal would like.

And then he sat on the roof of a skyscraper, sipping a chai latte, with the wind in his hair and a sunset dipping into the horizon.

He waited until the sunset's peak, where the colors were the most vibrant and expansive, painting the sky in purples and oranges and even touches of pink. The moment was idyllic. Maybe Jason wasn't a literal romantic in the sense of how his feelings worked, but he always did like to pick a good, passionate moment for his confrontations.

"Hal Jordan," Jason barely whispered it.

It was enough.

His peripheral vision caught the flash of green light, and footsteps landed on the roof behind him.

"Nice view," Hal hummed, coming up to Jason's side. He sat down beside Jason, legs hanging over the edge in the same way.

Jason nodded. "The skyline is always pretty this time of year."

"Oh, I guess the sunset's nice too," Hal mused, leaning back. "I was talking about you, though."

As cheap a line as it sounded like it should be, Hal managed to say it with such a deep sincerity that Jason was struck speechless for a moment. Just staring at the column of Hal's throat as he tilted his head back and the wind played with a few loose strands of hair.

"I thought you'd take longer," Hal said, looking at Jason.

"So did I," Jason admitted. He sipped his latte, letting the flavors rest on his tongue before swallowing. "You know, I thought running from the Bats to protect myself meant I had to run from everything. That everyone would be the same. Expect the same… pacifism out of me."

Hal nodded, letting Jason speak without interruption.

"But you're not." The words were hard to say. Jason's voice felt like broken glass in his throat, slicing him open with fear. "You never actually got onto me for killing anyone."

"I never would," Hal promised. He reached out for Jason's hand, hesitating for a moment. When Jason didn't pull away, Hal curled his fingers around Jason's. "I told you, there's nothing about you that needs redemption."

Christ. Jason was split open and spilling out of his own chest, letting his feelings cascade over both of them. He squeezed Hal's hand.

"I don't want to run," Jason said. He looked at the sunset, then Hal.

"Is that a yes?" Hal whispered.

Jason nodded. Before he could actually say the word, he swept into an embrace, strong arms holding him tight against Hal's body. Jason let himself be held, even if it made him feel small. He buried himself in Hal's scent, Hal's warmth.

Any amount of pain would be worth this, Jason was pretty sure.

But he was even more sure there wouldn't be pain. Hal's arms held him like he was sacred and priceless.

Hal pressed a kiss to Jason's hairline. "There doesn't have to be a label on it," he murmured into Jason's skin. "We don't have to follow anyone else's rules about how love works."

"Yeah," Jason sighed, sagging into Hal. "I guess we don't. Sounds pretty terrifying though."

"How so?" Hal pulled back just enough to frown at Jason.

"Charting the unknown," Jason explained, studying Hal's eyes. He wanted to memorize them. "What happens when one of us fucks up?"

Hal shrugged. "We talk about it. We don't run."

Jason winced. "Well, that's a shame. Running is one of the few things I'm good at."

"Oh, you're good at plenty of things." Mischief glimmered in Hal's expression. "But we can learn together. I'm learning every day. About myself, about the universe. About you."

Jason hummed. He rested his head on Hal's chest. There was no heartbeat to feel, but there was a thrumming noise. A vibrational resonance, like Jason had put his ear to the core of a black hole.

Comforting, in its own special little way.

A piece of the universe, cradling Jason into the night. Loving him for as long as the stars kept spinning.

Jason could get behind that.

"Only if you let me learn about you too," Jason smiled. "Seems like you've got some pretty interesting stories."

"You have no idea." Hal chuckled, making Jason's skull vibrate pleasantly. "And all the time to tell them, until you get sick of me."

"Not likely to happen any time soon." Jason punched him lightly in the arm, and Hal laughed again, a perfect noise. He kissed Jason's forehead again.

"Alright. Where do you want me to start?"