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[steampunkeddruid]

Series: DC RP ficlets
Title: Arsonist's lullabye
Summary: A newly revived Jay doesn't end up in Gotham at first..
Characters: Jason Todd, Mira Greason
Warnings: Canon related violence, Amnesiac Jason, RP verse
Canon: DC RP backdrop.



Mira had turned on the coffee pot, she knew her guest had been up for a bit, despite the first night, she had let him stay. He had been pretty good with cars in the last week he had been there too.

This morning though, she had Lucifer out, the jet black acoustic guitar had been nicknamed that as a joke really, though she kept it only because she did like it. An old battered notebook was on the table before her as she plucked along lightly. It was rare she wanted to turn to music other than her machines, but she didn’t want to risk waking him since he seemed to finally have fallen asleep. It was Sunday, so they really didn’t have anything to do. She avoided the local church, mostly because the elder insisted she was demon spawn. The ones that raised her weren’t her parents. She knew that all her life, though they were blood family. At least her aunt had been.

Her parents had pretty much left her with her aunt when she was a few months old. They had insisted that a child around ruined their lifestyle as ‘stars’. Mira had never seen their films, and enough people had figured it out in town to make things hard for her.

These were things she jotted in the notebook, her diary in lyrical form, for the day she ever thought about trying again to make it in the music biz. At the thought of that, her hand touched the gear tattooed on the underside of her wrist. It had four spokes, three with crosses etched in them. The fourth was cracked, her reminder of what she had lost in college.

”All you have is your fire
And the place you need to reach
Don’t you ever tame your demons
But always keep them on a leash”
--Arsonist’s lullabye - Hozier

She hummed a few bars as she strummed the guitar tapping her foot on the old laminate floor. Finishing the song she started into another, this one one of hers, the one that her band had wanted to use as their first single.

The song was hard for her to sing, all of the frustration, anger and loneliness she had felt being the youngest in her classes, and knowing more about the engines they had rebuilt, as well as the machines they had built in CalTech…

The young woman didn’t realize she wasn’t alone anymore until she glanced up.

Jason was wearing one of her uncle’s work shirts over black cargoes. His hair fell about in a mess, the white locks falling into his face, while the rest of his black hair managed to stay back. He had quietly gotten a cup of coffee, and was leaning against the doorway holding it in his hands, looking at the door frame silently, only glancing over when she had stopped playing.

“You have a beautiful voice.” His voice sounded better, less gravelly, at least, not as bad as it had been the night two weeks ago.

She blushed, hiding slightly behind the guitar. “I, don’t think I’d actually be good on stage. I, wouldn’t want to be in showbiz anyway.” She admitted, not wanting to go into the fact she doesn’t want to be like her parents who had been porn stars when she was young, and now owned a small adult entertainment empire. One she had fought to distance herself from in school. She had also gotten her aunt and uncle to legally adopt her when she was sixteen, taking her uncle’s name.

“Any reason why?”

She shook her head as she pulled herself from the chair, moving to get some coffee, setting the guitar on the table. “I like my machines more. That’s all.”

Jason had a feeling she was lying about it but didn’t press. “Sorry if I woke you.” He decided a topic change was better.

“I was having nightmares of my own. Though, for someone who doesn’t remember who he is past his first name… You might have a past I might not want to know about.” She said as she felt she could face him without blushing. Her hair was up in a messy bun, just to keep it out of her face.

“I don’t remember them.” He crossed to the table, taking the empty seat across from hers. “Not sure if I want to with the scars I have.”

“Sounded like you were a soldier. Though you can’t be much older than I am.” She bit her lip a moment, her fingers tracing the tattoo. “I’d suggest going to town to see if we can find you on a missing person’s board. But the police there don’t really like me much.”

“Oh?”

“I’m a transplant here. From when I was young. And I don’t fit into the mold of their ‘Godly’ followers because of Luce there.” She nodded to the guitar. “Well that and the fact I like a boy’s hobby, taking over this garage when Pops couldn’t anymore.” Sinking back into her chair she sipped at the coffee, mixed with a little sugar and a little milk.

“Explains why you go to the next town over for groceries.”

“No one knows me there, it’s easier. Speaking of which, I should make a run today. Want to come with me?”

“Trust me?”

“I’m letting you stay here aren’t I? I could go into town and tell the deputy about what happened. Even though I’m not part of their Children of the Corn family… well, okay that would make more sense if we grew more than cactus and tumbleweeds out here.”

Though it did have him chuckle a little. “I get it they’d still take care of you.”

“Probably lock me up too for hiding you this long.” She admitted.

“They try I’ll stop them.” He spoke low, not really meaning her to hear it. Though glancing up at the girl, he agreed with the words. She was trying to help him, had even taken him to the nearest hospital to make sure nothing was wrong, other than being dehydrated. There was no physical explanation for his memory loss.

Instead of seeing a shrink just yet, Mira had offered him a room and job, to see if he could figure it out.

“Pretty sure you wouldn’t like the work camp they send troublemakers to. No one seems to return.” She held the mug in both hands. “Thought you might have been one of them at first really. But if someone had escaped, the deputy would have been here by now.”

“Why do you stay?”

She looked at her coffee. “Because I made Pops a promise. I’d stay here three years, long enough for this place to be a historical landmark, and prevent it from getting knocked down.” She traced the tattoo as she spoke. “It was the first gas station out here. Greason’s have owned it since it was built and it’s stayed the same since.” She glanced up. “I know it’s a little silly, I mean a tech like me, into high tech, wanting to stay to work mostly on classic cars.”

He shook his head. “There’s something to be said about classic cars. They had style back then.”

Jason’s words had him set his mug down. Sharp pain hitting him, as well as images, a sleek black car…

Three of the tires had been removed, he felt joy about that, as well as excitement and fear of getting caught.

There was a boy there, laughing as a man in a cloak frowned. The boy, he knew was the same that had goaded him before…

The man he knew had a name…

Bruce There was another name, but the visions that hit with the name… were social events, a large house, learning to cook with an older man who treated Bruce as a son, and treated him and another boy as sons as well.

A hand touched his shoulder lightly, and he lashed out, grabbing the wrist.

“Jason, it’s me!” She hissed as he twisted. Jason let her go and she stepped back rubbing her wrist. “You okay?”

Looking up, he saw the woman that had called out for him at the edge of the water for a moment. “I, yeah I’m fine.” He realized he knew the woman’s name… The one before him was Mira, but he remembered the other name, as well as the man in the cowl.

“Remembered something?”

He nodded. “A Bat. And a songbird of some kind, canary? Robin? Fuck could be a damned blue jay for all I know.” He rested his head on his arms on the table. “You okay?”

“Yeah, the mug you were holding isn’t. That’s why I asked. The coffee was pretty hot.” She bit her lip a little. “And I’ll just wear a long sleeve when we go out. Wouldn’t be the first time I wore a jacket instead of bringing it with me.”

Jason frowned, with what he had learned from her song, he felt bad that this was the second time he had hurt her. “Let me take a look.”

“You just grabbed it tight. I doubt it’ll bruise.” She flexed her fingers to show that it wasn’t broken and he sighed with relief.

“As for the coffee, it wasn’t that hot. I’ll change. When we get back I’ll do laundry and cook alright? As long as you play something else for me.”

She bit her lip at that. “I, you really liked it?”

He nodded. “Voice of an angel, no, probably better than any angels.”

She shook her head. “Doubt that one, but, I’ll play a few more. Was thinking maybe we could do a fire outside tonight.”