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( sca ) coming home to you
Title: coming home to you
Fandom: DC Comics and Digimon Adventure/02 crossover
Universe: Sharpay's Crossover Adventure
Relationships: Jason Todd/Mimi Tachikawa
Summary: Jason decides to pay Mimi a night-time visit– and learns that he wasn't exactly the only one keeping secrets all these years.
Notes: I wish I could say this was an older fic, let alone something that had been sitting on my hard-drive for years, but alas. I have been revisiting my older RP-verses for nostalgia's sake, and it kind of hit me that I never wrote out just how Jaymi got together, let alone how Jason discovered the existence of Digimon. So this story emerged as the result, with attempts to keep it in line with the 'canon' we established for these two in SCA.
Whether I'm going through a Jaymi phase specifically or a Batfam phase, I'm not entirely sure, but I hope you enjoy, friends. ♥
In hindsight, the first sign of trouble should have been Mimi’s unlocked apartment windows. They slid open with no resistance, right when Jason expected to fiddle with the locks a little or jangle them around for a few minutes.
(Mimi must either trust people too much, or worse; she cared little for her surroundings and her safety. Neither option boded well.)
As Jason slipped through the window, he tugged his boots off, leaving the dust and caked-on blood behind. It had been several years since he had last visited her, let alone her family, but he could still hear her nagging voice in his head.
(“I’m going to buy you a proper pair of house slippers if you’re going to keep doing that,” she had told him with a huff in middle school, puffing up her cheeks like a fish. “Don’t be such an American, Jayjay.”)
Her apartment was as frilly and pink as her middle school bedroom had been, with fairy lights strung across the walls and succulents scattered across her living space. The furniture (leather couches, an old wood-stained coffee table, and various chairs) were more muted, of course, but the long rugs, plants, and general open-air aesthetic were all Mimi.
There was no room to hide anything (or anyone) of importance. Another sign of trouble. No weapons under the floorboards; no spaces for vigilantes or criminals to crawl under. One of the couches seemed to function as a sofa bed, but he couldn’t tell for certain in this lighting.
What was certain, though, was this: her current life was stable and peaceful, with little room for someone like him. For God’s sake, she punched him at first sight– and he was still nursing that bruise back to full health.
“This was a mistake,” he murmured to empty air, feeling the weight of the decisions leading him to this very moment. “Sorry, Meems– you’re doing pretty well without me.”
As he turned to leave, the floorboards creaked with new weight– and every hair on his body stood on edge. Someone else was here, with light, forceful footsteps that shook the very ground they stood on. To his (or Tom’s) knowledge, Mimi didn’t have any dogs or cats that could account for the sudden weight.
Jason crouched down by the window as he drew out his gun and waited for the enemy to draw closer. The revolver was definitely overkill. It would also intimidate whatever sick stranger decided to visit Mimi at this odd, forsaken hour where she should be asleep.
He drew in a quiet breath, preparing himself for battle when he caught sight of a giant flower– and Mimi’s stuffed animal walking around her apartment, with a glass in one of its hands (claws? claw-hands?).
Jason blinked, safely stashing his weapon away and taking his helmet off in vain hopes that he might be hallucinating the sight. His adrenaline must’ve started to wear off, or maybe sleep deprivation had finally gotten to his eyesight. Stuffed animals didn’t move, much less breathe with their shoulders rising and falling in rhythm to a little heartbeat.
If Jason were still in Gotham, he would’ve assumed that he breathed in some of Ivy’s pollen, or inhaled some of Scarecrow’s fear toxin. Hell, this walking stuffed animal was closer to one of Ivy’s mutant plants than any sort of living animal Jason had ever seen. Yet Ivy’s creations roamed only in Gotham. NYC was an awfully long way for a little creature to travel, much less to co-exist in such close proximity to a regular, everyday civilian.
Maybe someone had programmed an AI into her favorite childhood toy? One of her best friends used to like tinkering with computers. That redhead guy in all of her Instagram photos– maybe he installed something as a Christmas present, because this toy looked brand-new. No signs of wear or tear; none of the love that would have accompanied a toy Mimi dragged all around Gotham for several years.
(What was his name again? Koizumi? Kou-something, that much Jason knew…)
He observed the stuffed animal for a little longer, watching it drink a whole glass of water and rush to the kitchen for some more. It even hummed with child-like innocence as it climbed the counter.
Aside from the utter absurdity of it all, Jason couldn’t imagine any ill intent or malice radiating from her childhood toy. How was it alive? Scratch that, did Mimi even know that her favorite toy walked and breathed and drank water?
He leaned forward to stretch, and okay, maybe finally make his hasty escape. Instead of timing it with the faucet, however, the floorboards groaned with his weight.
The stuffed animal turned at the sound, freezing in place as it took in the sight of a sudden stranger. Water dribbled out from the faucet in small, steady drops– and the entire world seemed to fall silent in the moonlight and small, twinkling fairy lights.
“Don’t move,” a small, childish voice growled from the stuffed animal. Leaves and thorns rushed towards him, ostensibly to throw him back onto the fire escape.
Jason dodged the onslaught, peering down at the stuffed animal and inhaling the scent of fresh flowers from its head. The entire room smelled sweet, like Mimi’s regular perfume. (Or maybe that sweet, cloying scent was Mimi’s ‘perfume?’ She could never remember the name of her favorite brand, after all.) Crap, what did Mimi call this toy again? Think, Jason, think…
“Big words from a little guy,” he ended up saying, forcing some bravado into his voice. “Where’s Mimi?”
He was Red Hood right now, and Red Hood wasn’t intimidated by some 3 foot tall living plant. Red Hood was a strong, fearsome crime lord who brought grown men to their knees and terrified the living daylights out of everything and everyone, including Mimi’s favorite stuffed animal. That was somehow alive.
What did this thing even want with Mimi? Had it brainwashed her into accepting its presence (a “Feed me, Mimi” type of situation)? She was so, so kind that she would give her entire heart and mind to whatever nefarious criminal landed on her doorstep, too.
His new goal was to protect Mimi– even if it meant killing her beloved stuffed animal.
“Mimi’s not home right now.” The animal narrowed its eyes as vines sprouted from its flower and its thorny, claw-like fingers. Its footsteps grew more forceful as it approached Jason, and it even stood up straighter in an attempt to intimidate him– “What do you want with her?”
God, the plant-like animal’s scent was familiar and haunting, all at once– and he couldn’t help remembering Ivy’s rogue plants, and her greenhouses, and the vivid, strong stench of fertilizers. Problem was, he was in New York, visiting Mimi, who was wholly unconnected to ecoterrorists and superheroes altogether. Mimi was wholly innocent. She deserved a peaceful life free from interference– and probably, maybe, she’d forgive him for mutilating her stuffed animal.
“I should be the one asking you that.” Jason scoffed, despite every atom in his body telling him to not bite the living plant, “Does Mimi even know what you really are?”
“Yeeeees?” The animal blinked, tilting its head as if trying to place Jason somewhere. Its confusion was so loud and clear the next-door neighbors could probably hear, “Why wouldn’t she?”
“What?” Jason swallowed, pressing his back against the wall. “She knew? For how long?”
“Uh… at least ten years? Something like that?” The plant-like animal retracted its claws, kneeling down to look at Jason with utter bafflement. “Are you okay, Mister? You look really pale.”
This whole time, this whole time…. Mimi had been keeping secrets from him too. Her ‘favorite stuffed animal’ was a living, breathing plant, and he was the one totally unaware of the danger that co-occupied her bedroom for several years now. Given the time of night, this thing clearly didn’t want to hurt Mimi, but it was still dangerous. Those thorns looked sharp– and ready to pierce through several layers of kevlar.
“I’m fine,” he insisted, turning his cheek to avoid the animal’s pitying gaze. “I’ll leave. Pretend you never saw me.”
The animal was quiet for a few seconds, studying Jason with renewed interest– “You’re Mister Jason, aren’t you?”
Jason swallowed, turning his whole body to face her. “No, I’m not.”
“Your scent is the same,” The animal said, with such determination and sincerity that Jason almost felt bad for lying to it. “You haven’t visited Mimi in a long time, so I wasn’t sure, but… I know you’re Mister Jason. You’re her best friend from school. You always used to tell that joke I liked, um, about cows on the weekend.”
Jason blinked. Of all the old memories to associate with him, he wouldn’t have imagined wordplay. People usually went for ‘street kid’ or ‘Jane Austen’s biggest fanboy’ before anything else– but then again, he had never held a formal conversation with this creature. Whatever he had told this thing (her? him?), he had told Mimi, too.
“I did?” He found himself saying, sitting up a little straighter.
Maybe it was the stress or the absurdity of his current predicament, but he couldn’t remember any of the old jokes he told Mimi (and apparently, this living flower-animal). Let alone any jokes involving cows, or weekends, or whatever they did on the weekends.
“Uh-huh!” The animal continued with absolute glee, “So, Mister Jason… where do cows go on the weekend?”
“I don’t know.” Nothing came to mind. A big, blank bunch of blank space where any joke-related memories were supposed to reside. Jason didn’t think his resurrection in the Lazarus Pit had erased such minute and obscure memories, so the stress of his life must’ve finally gnawed his brain apart. Still, this creature deserved his full attention–“Where?”
The animal was practically laughing as it sung, “To the moo-vies!”
“Oh.” Jason snorted, pulling one knee close to his chest. “Yeah, that one tracks.”
“You had all the best jokes,” the animal admitted with a small, shy smile, swaying slightly under the fairy lights. “I wanted to tell you myself, but Mimi said that you didn’t know about the Digidestined, so I had to keep quiet whenever you were over and–”
“Digidestined?” Jason blinked, regarding the animal with sudden curiosity. “I–I don’t know what that is.”
The name sounded familiar, like something that must’ve been in the news when he was a little kid. He reached for one of his burner phones, already typing the word into a search engine to see what he could find.
Google yielded nothing substantial. DuckDuckGo was even less useful, and Oracle’s custom search engines generated little more than off-topic urban legends and racist conspiracy theories. Nothing worth the deep dive. A suspicious amount of nothing, honestly, even after combing through Japanese news sites and forums– someone with a lot of time and energy must’ve erased the truth off the Internet.
(“Everything okay?” Oracle texted him after a few more fruitless searches. “What’re you trying to look up?”
Nothing right now, he had texted back in a hurry, keen to hold Mimi’s secrets close to his chest. I’ll tell you if it becomes important.)
“O-oh. I thought…” The animal blinked, taking a giant step back. “I’m so sorry, Mister Jason, but if you don’t know, then um….”
The doorknob twisted as the animal took another step back. As the front door swung forward to let Mimi in, Jason winced as rays of moonlight shifted to show him and Palmon in full, vivid light.
“Palmon?” Mimi blinked as she set down her purse and coat. She took one confused, almost worried look at the stuffed animal. “Everything okay? You’re up super late.”
Palmon pointed wordlessly to the open window.
Mimi’s entire body turned towards the moonlight and towards Jason (and his blood-stained boots, and the shiny bruise that his domino mask couldn’t fully hide). She let out a tired, weary sigh as she rolled up her sleeves– “Wasn’t the first punch enough, Hood? You want more where this came from?”
“Hang on. Let’s talk this out, like reasonable people.” Jason raised both hands in surrender as he forced himself up, careful to leave a little distance between him and Mimi– “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Sure. That’s why you climbed through the fire escape. Because you don’t want to hurt me.” She was already rummaging around her purse for something– god, no, please don’t be a weapon. (Her fists were enough punishment.) “Palmon, I don’t think this space is big enough for you to Digivolve, but on my signal, we’re gonna throw him out the window–”
“Mimi!” Palmon waved a hand in her face, “Mimi! It’s okay! That’s Mister Jason!”
She froze, dropping the brick-like device in her hand as she swerved to really look at him. “No. No way, that can’t be him. Jason’s dead, Palmon.”
He knelt down to pick up the device, noting the bright blue color and faint LED-like screen. This old gadget was a time capsule of the late 90’s, with the blinding aesthetic to match. How Mimi had carried it around for decades with little scratches, he wasn’t sure. Whatever this was, it was more important to her than anything else in the universe.
“If I were Jason, and this is a big if,” he began slowly, holding the device out as an olive branch. “What could I say to have you believe me?”
Mimi peered down at the device, then back up at Jason as if she could see straight through that domino mask. “If you’re really Jason… really, truly Jason… Why didn’t you tell me?”
He swallowed. Any sort of mind games or subtle manipulation flew right past Mimi– she cut them down with one staunch look and an aura of sincerity that blinded even the darkest alleys in Gotham. If he were still Robin, maybe he would have continued to lie and hold his secrets close to his chest.
Thing is, Jason hasn’t been Robin in a long time. Jason has long since moved past Batman’s shadow– and although his current actions are far darker and bloodier, he felt freedom in those movements. He could tell her the truth, or at least a modified, more palatable version.
“I don’t know,” he confessed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “When I came back, all I could think about was getting revenge. Nothing else seemed to matter.”
“Revenge? What on Earth would you need revenge on? The other driver in your car crash?”
Jason froze, staring at Mimi as if she were the one growing vines and flowers from her body. “Is that what they said I died from?”
Mimi nodded, regarding him with equal amounts of horror and suspicion– “That wasn’t what happened, was it?”
“No.” His laugh was soft and bitter. “No, I wish it had been that mundane.”
A car crash sounded almost peaceful compared to the torture that he experienced. The screech of car tires was far more melodious than the echo of metal against his skull– and far easier to explain to an audience of devastated kids, probably. Jason tried to imagine what Mimi and Tommyboy must’ve been told: a bad car accident overseas? Or worse, Bruce must’ve manufactured a car crash to hide the evidence. Neither option boded well.
“You were a cape, weren’t you.” Mimi’s eyes widened at his words. The air in the room grew chilly as she sucked in a horrified breath, “Like… like Wildcat and Cyclone.”
“Something like that.” Jason grew quiet as his gaze flickered towards the photographs on Mimi’s wall. He knew everyone in them– portraits of Mimi with her penpals Sam, Michael, and Maria; group photos with her and her Japanese summer camp friends; and a few shots of Mimi, Tom, and Stacey McGill. Mimi’s smile was blinding in each and every one of them.
One frame, however, held four polaroids of him, exactly how he used to be at fifteen– all the acne; fluffy, tangled hair; crooked smiles; and mismatched, bright clothing straight from GAP. Jason couldn’t imagine displaying such naïvety or innocence on his living room walls, let alone why she gave him such a prominent place in her picture-perfect life.
Her current life was better. She didn’t need a guy like him– and she sure didn’t need him to shatter whatever illusions she held of him.
“It’s a long story,” he remembered to say, still unable to tear his gaze off his old photos– on that cute, innocent kid who died six feet under with Joker’s crowbar. “I’ll have to tell you another time.”
Mimi closed the distance between them and followed his gaze towards the wall of old photos. “I have all the time in the world,” she reminded him, with a soft, kind smile that shouldn’t have been aimed at him. “Unless time isn’t the problem here?”
“It’s one of the problems.” He kept his voice as calm and careful as he could. Mimi was a civilian, and apparently, some kind of Digidestined. She didn’t understand the dangers of his world, let alone the danger in learning how he had escaped Death’s door. “I… I’ve been lying to you for a long time, Meems. Maybe a little too long.”
“You weren’t the only one, bud.” Mimi stole a glance at Palmon, motioning for it to come beside them. Palmon acquiesced, leaning into Mimi’s side and pulling Mimi’s hand over her flower-y head. As Mimi petted her pet(?), she added, “Now, if you’re truly Jay–”
“Which he is,” Palmon insisted, with a slight whine. “His scent is the exact same, Mimi. I can’t mistake it for anyone else.”
Mimi’s smile grew soft, almost ignoring Palmon’s face as she stood on her tiptoes to see Jason better, “Can I see your face?”
Jason was already reaching for the spirit gum in his pocket to remove his domino mask. Once he pried it off his face (and God, it hurt a little more than usual thanks to his new, shiny black eye), he drew a deep breath and braced himself for impact.
Mimi reached up to caress his face. He slouched, pulling himself down so she could give him a closer look. The action felt foreign– especially after the last time her knuckles brushed against his skin, she intended to smash his face into the nearest kitchen counter.
(Hell, she could punch him again, and he wouldn’t try to dodge. He deserved whatever punishment she wanted to inflict on him.)
“Oh.” Mimi’s voice cracked as her fingertips brushed against the middle of his nose. “I remember that scar. You said you hit your face against the door on one of Bruce’s business trips, but if you were really a cape–”
“I might’ve been on the job.” Jason laughed, peering down at her with some curiosity. “I didn’t want to worry you or Tommyboy, so. I lied. More than a few times, now that I’m thinking about it.”
She hummed, peering carefully at his recovering bruise. It was still an ugly shade of purple, but bits of yellow were starting to peek through the injured skin. No amount of concealer could hide it, especially around his eyes– and really, Jason wanted the living reminder of his mistakes. Each time he stared at his reflection, he saw Mimi’s disapproval, and he could remind himself to avoid her.
(As for the rest of the family? Dear ol’ Batman assumed a mafia underling got the best of the great Red Hood, and as everyone knew, dear Bats was never, ever wrong.)
“I can’t judge, considering Palmon, but Jay…” She was tearing up now, even as she inspected his bruise for tenderness. “You’re really here.”
“I am,” he echoed, reaching up to wipe the warm, salty tears from her cheek.
Mimi leaned into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him tight. “Welcome home.”
He must’ve misheard her. Mimi Tachikawa had so, so many better things to do with her life than to welcome home a wayward stray, especially when he had confessed to lying for most of their friendship– and especially when he had announced his presence by dropping through her apartment window in the middle of the night.
Yet he leaned into her all the same, wrapping his arms around her and returning the hug. “It’s good to be back.”
“Mm…” She didn’t let go, even as she turned her head to look at him. “I should tell you all about Palmon now, huh?”
“That would probably be nice,” he teased, walking backwards towards the couch. “I too have all the time in the world. Unless that isn’t the problem here?”
Part of him expected another punch for such a light, joking manner, but part of him missed her. He missed her touch, just as he missed her voice and her presence lightening up an entire room. He missed getting to watch her grow up into this beautiful, impossibly kind young woman– and he missed that infinite compassion that somehow included him and all of his messed up morals.
He needed to be better: be the guy who met her standards, or even the one who exceeded them in spades. Draw a little less blood, spend a little more time in New York than Gotham, and maybe make the JSA’s lives a little bit easier. (Bats was getting tired of him anyways, right?)
“Mm, in that case…” Mimi followed him onto the couch, leaning into his side and letting her head rest on his shoulders. “It all started years and years ago, when I was sent to summer camp in the 4th grade. It was snowing, in the middle of the day on August 1st, when...”
“When you were sent to the Digital World,” Palmon said with a yawn as she crawled onto both of their laps. She sprawled out, resting her head on Mimi’s lap and clutching Jason’s hand with her small, claw-like hands. Their warmth was completely foreign to Jason– and yet something worth holding onto.
As he settled in for a story, he couldn’t help looking over at his Meems (at her sincerity, at the enthusiasm she brought to a decades-old story) and feeling something akin to pride swell up in his chest.
The real mistake, he realized, was in not coming home to her sooner.
Fandom: DC Comics and Digimon Adventure/02 crossover
Universe: Sharpay's Crossover Adventure
Relationships: Jason Todd/Mimi Tachikawa
Summary: Jason decides to pay Mimi a night-time visit– and learns that he wasn't exactly the only one keeping secrets all these years.
Notes: I wish I could say this was an older fic, let alone something that had been sitting on my hard-drive for years, but alas. I have been revisiting my older RP-verses for nostalgia's sake, and it kind of hit me that I never wrote out just how Jaymi got together, let alone how Jason discovered the existence of Digimon. So this story emerged as the result, with attempts to keep it in line with the 'canon' we established for these two in SCA.
Whether I'm going through a Jaymi phase specifically or a Batfam phase, I'm not entirely sure, but I hope you enjoy, friends. ♥
In hindsight, the first sign of trouble should have been Mimi’s unlocked apartment windows. They slid open with no resistance, right when Jason expected to fiddle with the locks a little or jangle them around for a few minutes.
(Mimi must either trust people too much, or worse; she cared little for her surroundings and her safety. Neither option boded well.)
As Jason slipped through the window, he tugged his boots off, leaving the dust and caked-on blood behind. It had been several years since he had last visited her, let alone her family, but he could still hear her nagging voice in his head.
(“I’m going to buy you a proper pair of house slippers if you’re going to keep doing that,” she had told him with a huff in middle school, puffing up her cheeks like a fish. “Don’t be such an American, Jayjay.”)
Her apartment was as frilly and pink as her middle school bedroom had been, with fairy lights strung across the walls and succulents scattered across her living space. The furniture (leather couches, an old wood-stained coffee table, and various chairs) were more muted, of course, but the long rugs, plants, and general open-air aesthetic were all Mimi.
There was no room to hide anything (or anyone) of importance. Another sign of trouble. No weapons under the floorboards; no spaces for vigilantes or criminals to crawl under. One of the couches seemed to function as a sofa bed, but he couldn’t tell for certain in this lighting.
What was certain, though, was this: her current life was stable and peaceful, with little room for someone like him. For God’s sake, she punched him at first sight– and he was still nursing that bruise back to full health.
“This was a mistake,” he murmured to empty air, feeling the weight of the decisions leading him to this very moment. “Sorry, Meems– you’re doing pretty well without me.”
As he turned to leave, the floorboards creaked with new weight– and every hair on his body stood on edge. Someone else was here, with light, forceful footsteps that shook the very ground they stood on. To his (or Tom’s) knowledge, Mimi didn’t have any dogs or cats that could account for the sudden weight.
Jason crouched down by the window as he drew out his gun and waited for the enemy to draw closer. The revolver was definitely overkill. It would also intimidate whatever sick stranger decided to visit Mimi at this odd, forsaken hour where she should be asleep.
He drew in a quiet breath, preparing himself for battle when he caught sight of a giant flower– and Mimi’s stuffed animal walking around her apartment, with a glass in one of its hands (claws? claw-hands?).
Jason blinked, safely stashing his weapon away and taking his helmet off in vain hopes that he might be hallucinating the sight. His adrenaline must’ve started to wear off, or maybe sleep deprivation had finally gotten to his eyesight. Stuffed animals didn’t move, much less breathe with their shoulders rising and falling in rhythm to a little heartbeat.
If Jason were still in Gotham, he would’ve assumed that he breathed in some of Ivy’s pollen, or inhaled some of Scarecrow’s fear toxin. Hell, this walking stuffed animal was closer to one of Ivy’s mutant plants than any sort of living animal Jason had ever seen. Yet Ivy’s creations roamed only in Gotham. NYC was an awfully long way for a little creature to travel, much less to co-exist in such close proximity to a regular, everyday civilian.
Maybe someone had programmed an AI into her favorite childhood toy? One of her best friends used to like tinkering with computers. That redhead guy in all of her Instagram photos– maybe he installed something as a Christmas present, because this toy looked brand-new. No signs of wear or tear; none of the love that would have accompanied a toy Mimi dragged all around Gotham for several years.
(What was his name again? Koizumi? Kou-something, that much Jason knew…)
He observed the stuffed animal for a little longer, watching it drink a whole glass of water and rush to the kitchen for some more. It even hummed with child-like innocence as it climbed the counter.
Aside from the utter absurdity of it all, Jason couldn’t imagine any ill intent or malice radiating from her childhood toy. How was it alive? Scratch that, did Mimi even know that her favorite toy walked and breathed and drank water?
He leaned forward to stretch, and okay, maybe finally make his hasty escape. Instead of timing it with the faucet, however, the floorboards groaned with his weight.
The stuffed animal turned at the sound, freezing in place as it took in the sight of a sudden stranger. Water dribbled out from the faucet in small, steady drops– and the entire world seemed to fall silent in the moonlight and small, twinkling fairy lights.
“Don’t move,” a small, childish voice growled from the stuffed animal. Leaves and thorns rushed towards him, ostensibly to throw him back onto the fire escape.
Jason dodged the onslaught, peering down at the stuffed animal and inhaling the scent of fresh flowers from its head. The entire room smelled sweet, like Mimi’s regular perfume. (Or maybe that sweet, cloying scent was Mimi’s ‘perfume?’ She could never remember the name of her favorite brand, after all.) Crap, what did Mimi call this toy again? Think, Jason, think…
“Big words from a little guy,” he ended up saying, forcing some bravado into his voice. “Where’s Mimi?”
He was Red Hood right now, and Red Hood wasn’t intimidated by some 3 foot tall living plant. Red Hood was a strong, fearsome crime lord who brought grown men to their knees and terrified the living daylights out of everything and everyone, including Mimi’s favorite stuffed animal. That was somehow alive.
What did this thing even want with Mimi? Had it brainwashed her into accepting its presence (a “Feed me, Mimi” type of situation)? She was so, so kind that she would give her entire heart and mind to whatever nefarious criminal landed on her doorstep, too.
His new goal was to protect Mimi– even if it meant killing her beloved stuffed animal.
“Mimi’s not home right now.” The animal narrowed its eyes as vines sprouted from its flower and its thorny, claw-like fingers. Its footsteps grew more forceful as it approached Jason, and it even stood up straighter in an attempt to intimidate him– “What do you want with her?”
God, the plant-like animal’s scent was familiar and haunting, all at once– and he couldn’t help remembering Ivy’s rogue plants, and her greenhouses, and the vivid, strong stench of fertilizers. Problem was, he was in New York, visiting Mimi, who was wholly unconnected to ecoterrorists and superheroes altogether. Mimi was wholly innocent. She deserved a peaceful life free from interference– and probably, maybe, she’d forgive him for mutilating her stuffed animal.
“I should be the one asking you that.” Jason scoffed, despite every atom in his body telling him to not bite the living plant, “Does Mimi even know what you really are?”
“Yeeeees?” The animal blinked, tilting its head as if trying to place Jason somewhere. Its confusion was so loud and clear the next-door neighbors could probably hear, “Why wouldn’t she?”
“What?” Jason swallowed, pressing his back against the wall. “She knew? For how long?”
“Uh… at least ten years? Something like that?” The plant-like animal retracted its claws, kneeling down to look at Jason with utter bafflement. “Are you okay, Mister? You look really pale.”
This whole time, this whole time…. Mimi had been keeping secrets from him too. Her ‘favorite stuffed animal’ was a living, breathing plant, and he was the one totally unaware of the danger that co-occupied her bedroom for several years now. Given the time of night, this thing clearly didn’t want to hurt Mimi, but it was still dangerous. Those thorns looked sharp– and ready to pierce through several layers of kevlar.
“I’m fine,” he insisted, turning his cheek to avoid the animal’s pitying gaze. “I’ll leave. Pretend you never saw me.”
The animal was quiet for a few seconds, studying Jason with renewed interest– “You’re Mister Jason, aren’t you?”
Jason swallowed, turning his whole body to face her. “No, I’m not.”
“Your scent is the same,” The animal said, with such determination and sincerity that Jason almost felt bad for lying to it. “You haven’t visited Mimi in a long time, so I wasn’t sure, but… I know you’re Mister Jason. You’re her best friend from school. You always used to tell that joke I liked, um, about cows on the weekend.”
Jason blinked. Of all the old memories to associate with him, he wouldn’t have imagined wordplay. People usually went for ‘street kid’ or ‘Jane Austen’s biggest fanboy’ before anything else– but then again, he had never held a formal conversation with this creature. Whatever he had told this thing (her? him?), he had told Mimi, too.
“I did?” He found himself saying, sitting up a little straighter.
Maybe it was the stress or the absurdity of his current predicament, but he couldn’t remember any of the old jokes he told Mimi (and apparently, this living flower-animal). Let alone any jokes involving cows, or weekends, or whatever they did on the weekends.
“Uh-huh!” The animal continued with absolute glee, “So, Mister Jason… where do cows go on the weekend?”
“I don’t know.” Nothing came to mind. A big, blank bunch of blank space where any joke-related memories were supposed to reside. Jason didn’t think his resurrection in the Lazarus Pit had erased such minute and obscure memories, so the stress of his life must’ve finally gnawed his brain apart. Still, this creature deserved his full attention–“Where?”
The animal was practically laughing as it sung, “To the moo-vies!”
“Oh.” Jason snorted, pulling one knee close to his chest. “Yeah, that one tracks.”
“You had all the best jokes,” the animal admitted with a small, shy smile, swaying slightly under the fairy lights. “I wanted to tell you myself, but Mimi said that you didn’t know about the Digidestined, so I had to keep quiet whenever you were over and–”
“Digidestined?” Jason blinked, regarding the animal with sudden curiosity. “I–I don’t know what that is.”
The name sounded familiar, like something that must’ve been in the news when he was a little kid. He reached for one of his burner phones, already typing the word into a search engine to see what he could find.
Google yielded nothing substantial. DuckDuckGo was even less useful, and Oracle’s custom search engines generated little more than off-topic urban legends and racist conspiracy theories. Nothing worth the deep dive. A suspicious amount of nothing, honestly, even after combing through Japanese news sites and forums– someone with a lot of time and energy must’ve erased the truth off the Internet.
(“Everything okay?” Oracle texted him after a few more fruitless searches. “What’re you trying to look up?”
Nothing right now, he had texted back in a hurry, keen to hold Mimi’s secrets close to his chest. I’ll tell you if it becomes important.)
“O-oh. I thought…” The animal blinked, taking a giant step back. “I’m so sorry, Mister Jason, but if you don’t know, then um….”
The doorknob twisted as the animal took another step back. As the front door swung forward to let Mimi in, Jason winced as rays of moonlight shifted to show him and Palmon in full, vivid light.
“Palmon?” Mimi blinked as she set down her purse and coat. She took one confused, almost worried look at the stuffed animal. “Everything okay? You’re up super late.”
Palmon pointed wordlessly to the open window.
Mimi’s entire body turned towards the moonlight and towards Jason (and his blood-stained boots, and the shiny bruise that his domino mask couldn’t fully hide). She let out a tired, weary sigh as she rolled up her sleeves– “Wasn’t the first punch enough, Hood? You want more where this came from?”
“Hang on. Let’s talk this out, like reasonable people.” Jason raised both hands in surrender as he forced himself up, careful to leave a little distance between him and Mimi– “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Sure. That’s why you climbed through the fire escape. Because you don’t want to hurt me.” She was already rummaging around her purse for something– god, no, please don’t be a weapon. (Her fists were enough punishment.) “Palmon, I don’t think this space is big enough for you to Digivolve, but on my signal, we’re gonna throw him out the window–”
“Mimi!” Palmon waved a hand in her face, “Mimi! It’s okay! That’s Mister Jason!”
She froze, dropping the brick-like device in her hand as she swerved to really look at him. “No. No way, that can’t be him. Jason’s dead, Palmon.”
He knelt down to pick up the device, noting the bright blue color and faint LED-like screen. This old gadget was a time capsule of the late 90’s, with the blinding aesthetic to match. How Mimi had carried it around for decades with little scratches, he wasn’t sure. Whatever this was, it was more important to her than anything else in the universe.
“If I were Jason, and this is a big if,” he began slowly, holding the device out as an olive branch. “What could I say to have you believe me?”
Mimi peered down at the device, then back up at Jason as if she could see straight through that domino mask. “If you’re really Jason… really, truly Jason… Why didn’t you tell me?”
He swallowed. Any sort of mind games or subtle manipulation flew right past Mimi– she cut them down with one staunch look and an aura of sincerity that blinded even the darkest alleys in Gotham. If he were still Robin, maybe he would have continued to lie and hold his secrets close to his chest.
Thing is, Jason hasn’t been Robin in a long time. Jason has long since moved past Batman’s shadow– and although his current actions are far darker and bloodier, he felt freedom in those movements. He could tell her the truth, or at least a modified, more palatable version.
“I don’t know,” he confessed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “When I came back, all I could think about was getting revenge. Nothing else seemed to matter.”
“Revenge? What on Earth would you need revenge on? The other driver in your car crash?”
Jason froze, staring at Mimi as if she were the one growing vines and flowers from her body. “Is that what they said I died from?”
Mimi nodded, regarding him with equal amounts of horror and suspicion– “That wasn’t what happened, was it?”
“No.” His laugh was soft and bitter. “No, I wish it had been that mundane.”
A car crash sounded almost peaceful compared to the torture that he experienced. The screech of car tires was far more melodious than the echo of metal against his skull– and far easier to explain to an audience of devastated kids, probably. Jason tried to imagine what Mimi and Tommyboy must’ve been told: a bad car accident overseas? Or worse, Bruce must’ve manufactured a car crash to hide the evidence. Neither option boded well.
“You were a cape, weren’t you.” Mimi’s eyes widened at his words. The air in the room grew chilly as she sucked in a horrified breath, “Like… like Wildcat and Cyclone.”
“Something like that.” Jason grew quiet as his gaze flickered towards the photographs on Mimi’s wall. He knew everyone in them– portraits of Mimi with her penpals Sam, Michael, and Maria; group photos with her and her Japanese summer camp friends; and a few shots of Mimi, Tom, and Stacey McGill. Mimi’s smile was blinding in each and every one of them.
One frame, however, held four polaroids of him, exactly how he used to be at fifteen– all the acne; fluffy, tangled hair; crooked smiles; and mismatched, bright clothing straight from GAP. Jason couldn’t imagine displaying such naïvety or innocence on his living room walls, let alone why she gave him such a prominent place in her picture-perfect life.
Her current life was better. She didn’t need a guy like him– and she sure didn’t need him to shatter whatever illusions she held of him.
“It’s a long story,” he remembered to say, still unable to tear his gaze off his old photos– on that cute, innocent kid who died six feet under with Joker’s crowbar. “I’ll have to tell you another time.”
Mimi closed the distance between them and followed his gaze towards the wall of old photos. “I have all the time in the world,” she reminded him, with a soft, kind smile that shouldn’t have been aimed at him. “Unless time isn’t the problem here?”
“It’s one of the problems.” He kept his voice as calm and careful as he could. Mimi was a civilian, and apparently, some kind of Digidestined. She didn’t understand the dangers of his world, let alone the danger in learning how he had escaped Death’s door. “I… I’ve been lying to you for a long time, Meems. Maybe a little too long.”
“You weren’t the only one, bud.” Mimi stole a glance at Palmon, motioning for it to come beside them. Palmon acquiesced, leaning into Mimi’s side and pulling Mimi’s hand over her flower-y head. As Mimi petted her pet(?), she added, “Now, if you’re truly Jay–”
“Which he is,” Palmon insisted, with a slight whine. “His scent is the exact same, Mimi. I can’t mistake it for anyone else.”
Mimi’s smile grew soft, almost ignoring Palmon’s face as she stood on her tiptoes to see Jason better, “Can I see your face?”
Jason was already reaching for the spirit gum in his pocket to remove his domino mask. Once he pried it off his face (and God, it hurt a little more than usual thanks to his new, shiny black eye), he drew a deep breath and braced himself for impact.
Mimi reached up to caress his face. He slouched, pulling himself down so she could give him a closer look. The action felt foreign– especially after the last time her knuckles brushed against his skin, she intended to smash his face into the nearest kitchen counter.
(Hell, she could punch him again, and he wouldn’t try to dodge. He deserved whatever punishment she wanted to inflict on him.)
“Oh.” Mimi’s voice cracked as her fingertips brushed against the middle of his nose. “I remember that scar. You said you hit your face against the door on one of Bruce’s business trips, but if you were really a cape–”
“I might’ve been on the job.” Jason laughed, peering down at her with some curiosity. “I didn’t want to worry you or Tommyboy, so. I lied. More than a few times, now that I’m thinking about it.”
She hummed, peering carefully at his recovering bruise. It was still an ugly shade of purple, but bits of yellow were starting to peek through the injured skin. No amount of concealer could hide it, especially around his eyes– and really, Jason wanted the living reminder of his mistakes. Each time he stared at his reflection, he saw Mimi’s disapproval, and he could remind himself to avoid her.
(As for the rest of the family? Dear ol’ Batman assumed a mafia underling got the best of the great Red Hood, and as everyone knew, dear Bats was never, ever wrong.)
“I can’t judge, considering Palmon, but Jay…” She was tearing up now, even as she inspected his bruise for tenderness. “You’re really here.”
“I am,” he echoed, reaching up to wipe the warm, salty tears from her cheek.
Mimi leaned into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him tight. “Welcome home.”
He must’ve misheard her. Mimi Tachikawa had so, so many better things to do with her life than to welcome home a wayward stray, especially when he had confessed to lying for most of their friendship– and especially when he had announced his presence by dropping through her apartment window in the middle of the night.
Yet he leaned into her all the same, wrapping his arms around her and returning the hug. “It’s good to be back.”
“Mm…” She didn’t let go, even as she turned her head to look at him. “I should tell you all about Palmon now, huh?”
“That would probably be nice,” he teased, walking backwards towards the couch. “I too have all the time in the world. Unless that isn’t the problem here?”
Part of him expected another punch for such a light, joking manner, but part of him missed her. He missed her touch, just as he missed her voice and her presence lightening up an entire room. He missed getting to watch her grow up into this beautiful, impossibly kind young woman– and he missed that infinite compassion that somehow included him and all of his messed up morals.
He needed to be better: be the guy who met her standards, or even the one who exceeded them in spades. Draw a little less blood, spend a little more time in New York than Gotham, and maybe make the JSA’s lives a little bit easier. (Bats was getting tired of him anyways, right?)
“Mm, in that case…” Mimi followed him onto the couch, leaning into his side and letting her head rest on his shoulders. “It all started years and years ago, when I was sent to summer camp in the 4th grade. It was snowing, in the middle of the day on August 1st, when...”
“When you were sent to the Digital World,” Palmon said with a yawn as she crawled onto both of their laps. She sprawled out, resting her head on Mimi’s lap and clutching Jason’s hand with her small, claw-like hands. Their warmth was completely foreign to Jason– and yet something worth holding onto.
As he settled in for a story, he couldn’t help looking over at his Meems (at her sincerity, at the enthusiasm she brought to a decades-old story) and feeling something akin to pride swell up in his chest.
The real mistake, he realized, was in not coming home to her sooner.