tw. arguing

Jason stood in the doorway of the small bedroom they shared.

Maeve was sitting on the bed, knees tucked to her chest, reading a worn book by the weak light of the desk lamp. She looked up when he stepped in, eyes immediately narrowing at his expression.

"You talked to him again, didn't you?" she asked.

Jason didn't answer right away. He just sat on the edge of the bed"How'd you know?"

"I saw Melina with the money, and asked where she got it from." Maeve was hurt from not being told.

"He wants to take me in. Foster me. Give me a real place."

Maeve stared at it, her jaw tightening. "So what, you're just leaving?"

"It's not like that," Jason said quickly. "He's just giving me a shot. A chance to get out."

Her voice was sharp now. "Without us?"

"I never said that!" he snapped, then pulled his voice back down. "I never said I was going. I'm just... thinking."

Maeve stood, crossing her arms. "You know what thinking means? It means you're halfway out the door already."

Jason stood too, matching her intensity. "What do you want me to fucking do, Maeve? Stay here forever? On the streets? With Michael and Nancy wasting away in the next room? With Willis going in and out of jail? Like this is all there is?"

"At least it's real!" Maeve shot back, eyes glistening. "At least we're together!"

Jason looked at her, breathing hard. "So I should throw away a shot at a real life—just because you're scared?"

She flinched like he'd slapped her. "I'm not scared."

"You are," he said, softer now. "You're scared I'll leave. That I'll forget you."

"For fuck's sake, Jason, I need you here! Not across fucking town in a manor, away from your home! Away from your family! Away from me!" Maeve cried, voice cracking under the weight of every fear she'd tried to keep buried.

Jason stood frozen, his face caught somewhere between guilt and pain. Her words cut deep, deeper than anything he'd been ready for.

From the kitchen, Melina paused with her hands resting on the counter, listening in silence. She'd heard a lot of arguments in her life, but this one hit differently. This one sounded like heartbreak before it even had the chance to finish being love.

Maeve shoved her hands into her hair, pacing. "You say you'll come back. That you won't forget me. But everyone who leaves says that. They always mean it—right until they don't."

Jason stepped forward, slower this time, like he was afraid she'd bolt. "Maeve... I'm not like them."

Her eyes met his—angry, vulnerable, desperate. "Then prove it. Stay."

The room fell into a heavy silence. Jason looked down, the envelope in his hand now feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds.

In the kitchen, Melina quietly set down the dish she was pretending to wash, jaw clenched, heart tight. She knew what it felt like to be torn between survival and love. She knew the cost of both.

Back in the room, Jason finally said, voice raw, "I don't know what the right thing is. But whatever happens, I need you to believe this—I love you, Maeve. That's not going anywhere."

Maeve didn't answer. She just reached out and gripped the edge of his hoodie like a lifeline, head pressed to his chest, tears soaking the fabric.

And for that moment, Jason held her like he didn't have one foot out the door—even if part of him still did.

The Gotham air was thick with fog, clinging to the streets like a secret. Jason stood under the cracked awning of a closed corner shop, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, jaw clenched like he was holding the whole city on his shoulders.

Bruce pulled up silently, stepping out of the car without a word, just his usual calm presence like the storm inside Jason didn't rattle him at all.

They stood across from each other in the hush of early morning. No one else was around. Just them.

"I gave it away," Jason said abruptly, before Bruce could speak.

Bruce tilted his head slightly. "The money?"

Jason nodded. "Yeah. I gave it to Melina. She used it to get Maeve into school. A real one."

Bruce's expression didn't change, but something gentled in his eyes. "Good."

Jason blinked, surprised. "You're not mad?"

Bruce shook his head. "It was yours to do what you thought was right. And you did."

Jason looked away for a moment, his voice quieter now. "She deserves more than this. She's helped me so much these past year or so. They both deserve better. I... I didn't know how to help, so I just—did the only thing I could."

"And now?" Bruce asked.

Jason's shoulders tensed. Then he took a breath. "Now I'm ready. If the offer's still there."

Bruce didn't hesitate. "It is."

Jason looked up at him, eyes wary but open. "I'm not promising I'll be perfect. I've got sharp edges. I screw up a lot."

Bruce offered a faint smile. "So do I."

Jason huffed out a breath, almost a laugh. "Alright then."

Bruce nodded once. "Let's go home."

Jason followed him to the car, his steps heavy but sure—like for once, he wasn't walking away from something, but toward it.

The apartment felt smaller than usual that night—like the walls were listening in, holding their breath.

Jason stood just inside the doorway, still wearing the hoodie he'd met Bruce in. He hadn't even sat down yet. Melina was at the table, sorting through mail. Maeve was curled in the armchair, half-watching the tiny TV with the volume low.

"I said yes," Jason said.

Melina looked up immediately. Maeve didn't.

He took a step further in. "To Bruce. I'm going."

Maeve's head snapped toward him. "You what?"

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm moving in with him. Learning. Getting out of here."

"Like hell you are." Maeve stood up, voice rising. "You really said yes? Just like that? After everything we talked about?"

Jason tried to keep calm. "It wasn't just like that. I thought about it. A lot."

"Oh, and thinking makes it better?" she snapped. "You just leave us behind and that's supposed to be okay because you 'thought about it'?"

Melina stayed quiet, watching them both, her eyes tired but not surprised.

"I'm not leaving you behind," Jason said, stepping closer to Maeve. "I'm trying to find something bigger. Something better. And maybe... bring it back to you."

Maeve shook her head, pacing now. "No. That's what people say when they're trying to feel less guilty about walking away."

"I'm not walking away," Jason repeated. "I'm coming back. Just—on different terms. With tools. A future."

Maeve's voice cracked. "You are walking away. Maybe not forever, maybe not on purpose, but it still feels the same."

Jason's jaw tightened. "I can't stay here just because you're scared."

"I'm scared because you're all I have left!" Maeve shouted. "You and Melina—this shitty place, this broken life—it's still ours. And now you're just... leaving."

Jason stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I'm leaving to survive. So I can come back and pull you out too."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she whispered, backing away.

Jason reached for her, but she turned, arms crossed, shutting down.

Melina finally spoke, her voice low but steady. "Let him go, Maeve."

Maeve looked at her, betrayed. "You're just gonna let him walk out too?"

Melina looked at Jason, then at Maeve. "I've spent years fighting to keep us alive. If Jason has a shot at more than survival, I'm not gonna be the one who takes that from him. Neither should you."

Maeve didn't answer. She just sat back down, arms hugging her knees to her chest.

Jason knelt beside her, gently resting a hand on her leg. "This isn't goodbye. I swear. Just... give me time."

She didn't look at him.

But she didn't push his hand away, either.

The door had barely closed behind Jason when Maeve bolted to her room, refusing to let the tears fall where anyone could see. She didn't slam the door—just closed it with a soft, final click that made the silence afterward feel heavier.

Melina stood in the kitchen, one hand on the table, the other clenched at her side. She gave it a minute. Then two.

Then she knocked gently.

"Go away," Maeve said from inside, voice thick and low.

Melina opened the door anyway. Maeve was curled in the corner of the bed, back to the wall, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands like armor.

"I'm not here to defend him," Melina said softly, stepping into the room.

"Good," Maeve mumbled, eyes fixed on the far wall. "Because there's no defending that."

Melina sat on the edge of the bed but didn't reach out. "I just need to tell you something. About the money Jason gave me."

Maeve's eyes flicked to her, confused but wary.

"I didn't use it for bills," Melina continued. "I didn't stash it for rent. I enrolled you in school. A real school. GED track. The good one downtown."

Maeve's brows furrowed. "You did what?"

Melina gave a small, tight smile. "Yeah. Paid upfront. Orientation's next week."

"Why... why would you do that?" Maeve asked, her voice trembling more from disbelief than anger.

"Because you're smart, Maeve. Because you deserve to get out of this, too. Because Jason believed in you enough to hand me every dollar he had, and I wasn't going to waste that."

Maeve was quiet for a long moment. "So that's it, huh? Jason leaves, and suddenly I have a future I didn't ask for?"

Melina shook her head. "Jason left because he loves you. And I did this because I do too. You don't have to want it right now. You just have to show up."

Maeve blinked fast, biting the inside of her cheek. "You think this fixes it?"

"No," Melina said gently. "But maybe it starts something."

Maeve looked down, voice barely a whisper. "I just wanted him to stay."

"I know," Melina replied. "So did I."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Melina reached over and wrapped her arms around her sister—not as the tough protector, not as the one always in control, but just as Melina.

Maeve didn't resist.

She let herself fall into the warmth of the hug and cry—for Jason, for the future, and for the version of herself she wasn't sure she was ready to become.