Band!AU Fic: The signal's on (2/?)
Title: The signal's on (2/?)
Characters: Band!AU Jason, CassRating: G
Warnings: None needed.
Summary: During the Batsignal Camp.
Word Count: 1156
Notes: I own none of these characters. May contain quite a few flaws that beta-treated fics don't have.
It was a love/hate relationship.
Jason loved the camp, and he didn't hate kids, either. It was just annoying that being surrounded by kids equaled no booze, no fighting and no sex. Smoking was only restricted, but smoke reeked clothes were definitely banned by Alfred and Dick.
All these above just left Jason an itch too deep inside to scratch, thus made him high-strung since day one.
Even Damian was smart and merciful enough to leave him practicing alone, while others were hanging around in the site.
Jason kept beating the drums, practicing one song after another, distracting himself by revising his scores.
It didn't help much.
He chose drums for a reason. The instrument not only required skill and accuracy, but also strength, endurance and massive passion. It was the instrument that could really release his stress and exhaust him.
But it was not enough this time.
The door was opened when Jason threw the drumsticks away in frustration. Cass caught them with ease while carrying an armful of stuff. The girl bothered him a “what-the-hell-are-you-doing” look. Jason scowled back, then dropped his gaze. It would be the greatest if it were Tim. Dick would be fine too. Alfred might allowed him some cigarette and made sure he smelled fresh before heading out. D and Steph might be little help but at least they knew whom to get for him. O, well, no one could mess with Barbara and Jason was pretty sure she could get him out of this misery, though he wasn't sure he would like the way.
And Cass. He didn't know Cass at all.
They used to be outsiders of the family, but they had never been close enough to understand each other. There was not much time between his reconciliation with Bruce and the Exodus. Neither of them lived in the Manor during that period and they usually had separated missions. Cass talked little. Jason didn't bother talk much back then.
And Jason would never enjoy being read back and forth and through like a book.
Cass walked to him silently, tilted her head a little, studying him.
“Wanna do a few rounds of sparring?” she asked, voice even.
Jason couldn't help but signed inwardly.
And “inwardly” was totally bullshit at this moment.
The sparring was one step from becoming a one-side slaughter.
When Jason finally lost count of how many times he hit the ground, he refused to get up. Every inch of his muscles was screaming sourness and pain. He couldn't stop panting and his lung clenched every time he inhaled too quickly or too deep, like the damn blade was still there. He almost heave for everything above plus dehydration, bitterness lingering on his dry tongue. There must be some bruises, but Jason was quite sure they could all been covered by his stage costume later.
Fucking creepy martial arts.
Cass placed a towel and cooled bottle water by his head, then sat beside him. The chilliness was welcomed and soothing. Cass was holding another cooled bottle water nursing a bruise on her leg that looked pretty nasty. While her breath barely quickened, there was still heat radiating from her-- warmth tingling against the skin of Jason's left arm, beads of sweat glistening on her body.
“Sorry.” Jason finally mumbled hoarsely.
Cass snorted, looked amused, “I did far worse to you, didn't I?”
Jason shrugged, “It helps.” he struggled to sit up, “Your grammar improves a lot.”
This time, Cass shrugged, “Diana and others are strict. Superman is annoying.”
Jason choked on his water and coughed frantically, then laughed out loud.
“Oh boy, Clark can really be...”
It took him awhile to recovered from the aching stomach from the laughter. Then, Jason felt a hand gently touch his back, tracing the pale, thin scars.
“...Roy?” Cass' voice sounded half curious, half sympathetic.
Jason raised an eyebrow, “Deduction? ”
There was a not-so-confident nod, “It's arrow shaft marks. Connor and Mia won't be willing to do this, due to their faith or past. Lian doesn't have the strength. Ollie and...”
“OK, that's very good detective work.” Jason hastily stopped her before the more kinky analysis came out. “I'm more surprised that Bruce or O don't have a file of that.”
“They have.” said Cass, faint streak of red on her cheek. “But it's too much words for my liking.”
Jason blinked, snickered, then finally burst into another round of laughter.
“So, am I qualified?” Cass asked sincerely, when Jason's hysterical laughter finally subsided.
Jason fell into silence. It wouldn't be any use to lie, especially in front of Cass, about his bitterness, his jealousy and even sometimes anger over the fact that she was the one still carrying the mantle, or Bruce had never forced her out of the community.
“Is everything going better for you when you do the job?” he asked after a long pause.
Another long pause, then,
“Yes.”
“Even for being away from blondie?”
“She lives better than before. Better this than ruined.” her tone was calm and solemn.
Jason studied her, like, the first time in his whole life. The emotions of the girl was almost transparent to see. The sparkle of determination in her eyes, the lost and sadness on the curl of her lips, he could read them now as easily as reading his scores.
“Then Bruce chose right. You can withstand the mission.” he said.
They shared the silence until finished their water. It was a weird day, as Jason pondered, like his mind and body was separated a little. His body ached and laughed, while his mind watched and talked. It was eerie, but everything seemed clearer than usual. He barely used his usual dirty words. It felt like no need for them.
Cass raised to her feet and went to rummage her bag, then, in Jason's amazement, took out a can of black beer.
“Thank you for taking care of her.” she said, pouring half out to a glass for Jason.
“Er...I think I deserve more?” Jason blinked, mind slowly going back into his body. He grinned wolfishly.
“It's hard to go past Alfred.” stated Cass in a serious manner. Jason shrugged in agreement.
“For the princess.” he said. Cass nodded and joined him.
Glass tinkled with metal.
“And for Bruce.”
Cool liquid ran down his throat. Warmth bubbled up from his belly. Rules or whatever else bullshit could all go fuck themselves. After this toast he would have a shower and a nap and after that, he would feel exhausted and aching all over like hell.
But the mantle was in good hands. And he could start missing the mission in a better way.
For their concert, that was all the strength he needed.