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#if this was a red hood kind of situation Jason would have still been shocked
ghost-bxrd · 4 months
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Jason will be ecstatic when he finds out how Fae! Dick avenged him.
Hooo boy absolutely!
If we go with the “Dick knew the second Jason got resurrected” scenario, then it would probably happen after a nightmare where Jason has a panic attack about the Joker and Dick comfort him, telling him that it’s very hard for people to hurt others anymore when they’re currently spread over several acres of land as fertilizer for the trees. :)
Jason just kind of blue screens for a while until he realizes what Dick is trying to tell him and then he starts sobbing even harder and clinging to Dick, whispering thank-you-thank-you-thank-you over and over and over again.
Dick is very confused because?? “Little wing, did you truly think I’d let him walk away after what he did to you? If I hadn’t been on a time schedule i would have done worse.”
And Jason realizes that Dick is absolutely fucking terrifying but that’s ok. Dick promised years ago that he’d always protect and never hurt him. And Dick’s never broken a promise.
Ever.
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Hello, hope you are having a good day/night?
I was wondering if I could request something where Joker uses Jason Todd's DNA to create a child (male) and raises him. What would happen when Jason finds out he not only has a kid but the kid been being raised by Joker the man who tortured and killed him!
And how will Bruce react to seeing Jason's son and how much he looks like his dad?
Platonic batfam x kid reader
Headcanons
I’m still right in the middle of exam season right now, which is why I haven’t been writing much.
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Like I said, you are a redheaded kid, because I love redhead Jason too much not to add it. Joker being the joker would most likely make you color your hair black though, just like Jason did when he was robin.
If Joker got Jasons DNA when he killed him, then you would be around 8, as Jason died at 15 and is 23 nowadays (I got this age from the dc twitter account), and because of Jasons genes you are most likely a small and skinny kid.
The smallness most likely also comes from the fact that Joker is the one raising you, alongside Harley if they are still together at that point.
Raising you is a very loose word, Joker does not have a parental bone in his body, and only clones you to taunt the bats. So, he is nowhere near a good parent and treats you like an extension of the Robin he killed.
This would lead to a lot of mistreatments, because it’s the Joker, what do you expect. Both mental and physical abuse would be present in your life, as the Joker wouldn’t feel any love or care for you as a person.
Because of this you wouldn’t be going to school either, but you are smart, so you teach yourself how to read and write, and you’ll have to learn math and the likes to be able to use some weapons to their full potential.
Instead of being allowed to be a child your only purpose to exist is to be a tool to taunt the bats, so you most likely wouldn’t be given a name either and would just be called Robin by Joker and anyone else who knows you exist.
Being “raised” by joker also means your morals are very skewed, and you have no problem with murder or torture, but what do you expect from someone like the joker.
The bats would learn about your existence during one of the Jokers latest plans. It would be during one of his more crazy ideas, you know, with a lot of hostages and a lot at risk.
I can imagine two scenarios. The Joker either tying you up and posing you bruised up and bloody whilst wearing the Robin outfit, to taunt Batman.
Or you are being used as a surprise attack when they get a little too close to catching the Joker. Joker of course wouldn’t care about your wellbeing besides being a tool for him, so if you get shot or break bones he doesn’t care.
They would of course all be shocked and shaken at seeing an 8-year-old kid wearing Jason’s robin outfit there, and especially with how little care you show about yourself and your own wellbeing.
Joker would whisk you away at the last moment, though not without you being hurt during the fighting, because he still has plans on using you to harm the bats, especially batman and red hood.
The batfam would panic at the knowledge that Joker has a child that hes using for his evil plans, they have no idea you are Jason’s clone yet, but they still want to rescue you.
They can only assume you’ve been trained since birth, with how skilled you are, which makes them all emotional. Especially the likes of Damian and Cass, since they were trained from infancy as well.
They would immediately start searching lost child cases for anyone fitting your description but come up empty handed because you are a clone.
After this encounter the Joker would use you in his plans more and more, because he gets great joy from seeing how desperate the batfam is to figure out who you are or to save you.
You’ve never felt kindness before and have never been your own person though, so you don’t trust them and just do whatever the Joker orders you to do, putting yourself in life and death situations more than once.
Bruce would be heartbroken with how familiar you look in your robin outfit, as you are a complete copy of how Jason looked back then. Dick and Jason, and maybe Tim, would be the only ones able to recognize your appearance, which would make them all want to save you even more.
After finally getting your blood and/or DNA to test after another deadly situation you’ve put yourself in, they take it back to the cave to test, where they learn your relation to Jason.
To say the batfam would all be shaken and enraged by the discovery would be an understatement. They’re shaken at the fact that Joker has had a child grown from Jasons DNA for who knows how long, and would be enraged at the fact that Jasons DNA was used and that you’ve obviously been abused this entire time.
They buckle down even more to get you to their side and make you come with them willingly, and it works in their favor as the Joker has become more lax with your reigns. It seems he’s growing bored of using the same thing over and over again, so he’s kinda just letting you run freely as he comes up with new plans.
It would start with Jason or Tim, or maybe even Cass, who would be able to get closer to you. They wouldn’t push to get you to come with them, and just get you to be used to their presence instead of immediately seeing them as a threat.
They know this is a slow process and that they can’t rush it, since you would run at the first sign of them trying to snatch you up.
As this is happening Jason can be caught reading parenting books, things about child psychology and the affects of child abuse. He already knew all of this, but he keeps refreshing it for when they get you to trust them.
Bruce would be going through a grieving process again, as you are a direct result of him failing Jason. But this time he would have a larger support system which would stop him from spiraling like last time.
Over time you get used to the presence of the batfam when you are on your own, they bring you meals or stuff to drink. Of course, you don’t trust it in the beginning, knowing they could be drugging you, but as time passes you start to eat with them.
At some point, Damian would end up telling you about his own childhood and how wrong it was, and that he didn’t deserve that abuse, and neither do you.
That would be what starts to make you understand that the Joker isn’t a good guardian and that you may be worth more than he says you are.
They don’t get much further though, as the Joker has gotten bored of you and the purpose you were supposed to serve, so he wants to get rid of you. He would try to recreate the day he killed Jason, with the crowbar and everything.
Bruce is the one to save you before you get blown up though, Bruce almost in a frenzy to not lose another kid that way every again. You would be bruised and battered with broken bones and a concussion, but you would be alive.
They would bring you to a doctor or healer, probably a league one for identity reasons, and the fact that they could use magic to heal you faster.
Jason wouldn’t leave you alone as you are unconscious for days, the batfam would stick close by but also be working hard on cracking down on the Joker and destroying whatever he has left of his cloning experiments.
After you wake up, a lot of time would be used introducing you to the life of a normal child, and helping you heal both mentally and physically.
Thankfully they have a lot of experienced with helping kids who were raised to be weapons, with Cass and Damian and the likes, so they know what to do for the most part.
Jason never thought he would be a dad, especially not with how young he is, but he takes to it like a duck to water. Hes always had a soft spot for kids, and maybe in the back of his mind always wanted a kid of his own, so you help him settle in a way he didn’t know he could.
They all joke about Bruce spoiling you, because you are like a mix of Cass, Damian and Jason, and that Bruce’s fatherly urges can’t be stopped. It isn’t a joke though, after you learn to have your own opinions and wants, Bruce would bend over backwards for you like he would for any of his kids.
The first time you call Jason dad, he has to choke back tears, because he never thought you’d see him as your dad or accept him. You two go out to bat burger to celebrate.
They of course make up legal papers for you as well so you can start going to school after healing mentally and physically. They wouldn’t allow you to run around at night with them for a while either, as they want you to find who you are before you decide to be a hero or not.
And whether you decide to be a vigilante or just a civilian, they support you the entire way. Even if you pick to be a hero, they’d still be overprotective since you are the youngest, much to your annoyance, but you know its cuz they love you.
They all love you, and you love them. And if you choose to be a hero and base your outfit around your dads and it makes him cry, who will catch him with the helmet on. The other heroes think you are adorable too. You have youngest child privilege in the hero world, learn to wield it.
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jokers-bat · 7 months
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BatJokes Headcanons by Series:
Harley Quinn Show:
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(This is my favorite Joker quote from this show! 😆)
- Complicated, long history. On again, off again boyfriends.
- Not together but still have feelings for each other.
- Bruce was legitimately happy for Joker having a new life and job…But he missed the old Joker too.
- Joker knows Batman/Bruce is a little crazy himself but he’s still shocked whenever he does something reckless and impulsive.
- They aren’t good for each other and they know it. Like they know each other’s vulnerable sides and their demons but neither are equipped to help them get better (with Joker not wanting to get better and Bruce turning to self-destruction rather than real help).
2004 Batman
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- Night and day. Bruce is stability, peace, hope, and warmth while Joker is chaos, hate, destruction, and wacky.
- It’s rare, but there is a tenderness between them. Meeting on the roof at night, watching the sunrise, speaking freely and openly. Brief moments of peace and something more than just being enemies.
- Never said out loud, but Batman will come to save him if Joker was in danger. Similarly, Joker would protect Batman and his identity if he knew he was in trouble.
- ‘I love you’ is never said but they feel it.
Under The Red Hood
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- Not good but ify. Depends on situation and/or circumstances (following canon versus fan fiction).
- They have a history together. Were a couple at one point but it’s complicated.
- All the ‘what could have been love songs’ mixed with the ‘not over you’ songs.
- Bruce is bitter, gloomy, and full of regret while Joker is crazy, out of control, and evil but both are violent and hate themselves more than anything else.
- Whatever is left of Joker’s former self deeply resents Batman for accidentally creating him but he’ll never show it. Bruce, meanwhile, wishes he could have known him before he became the Joker.
- If they were to get back together, it would require a decade’s worth of therapy.
- In an alternative universe where Batman and Joker were together and Joker continued to be a criminal (though not as deadly) and Jason still became the Red Hood, the bay family would be one heck of a complicated, dysfunctional, and kind of toxic family.
Lego Batman
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- They got married and adopted Dick, the end!
- Fun dads. Bruce is the kickass, awesome dad with super cool cars and gadgets while Joker is the crazy and wild dad who knows all the best jokes and pranks.
- Pure wholesome love story. Just let it be!
- Joker was never really a criminal. Just a prankster who ultimately wanted to go out with Batman but didn’t know how to ask so he annoyed him instead. 😆
- Found family that makes each other better people!
- Very affectionate. Hand holding, fixing each other’s hair, hugs and kisses, Everyday is Valentine’s Day for them!
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daemoninwhiteround2 · 2 years
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ooh can we get more alpha pup Damian manipulating omega Jason?
"We're returning now, omega. I refuse to wait any longer."
Jason is not finding it cute that Robin, Damian Wayne-al Ghul, his pup??? (That wasn't a hallucination???) is about five seconds away from stamping his foot in frustration. It's not adorable in the slightest, nor does it warm him, this visible proof that he was missed—he knows that Damian would never act so obviously childish in public in the League and doesn't believe he's been in Gotham long enough to get rid of that instinct.
"My name's Jason, kid, in case they forgot to tell you."
A shadow passes over Robin's face, visible even past the domino, and Jason could kick himself.
"Pup," he corrects, and puts his hand over the back of Damian's neck. That's important, because it's a gesture that means safety to pups—someone bad gets a hold of you there and scruffs you and you're fucked, Jason remembers how he used to walk, shoulders hunched up to his ears to try and protect himself—it means that someone's going to stand guard over you. It's something omegas do for their pups.
When they were pack, Jason's hand had never left the back of his pup's neck of his own accord. He wouldn't fight if Damian left willingly, but in any other situation...
They still fit together so perfectly.
"My pup," Jason murmurs.
"My omega," Damian says again.
Jason bites back the urge to croon.
"Jay—Hood. You're an omega?"
Nightwing would sound less shocked had Jason snuck up on them and smacked him with a 2x4.
Jason narrows his eyes. He's fairly certain he's started presenting before he died, is pretty sure his dynamic was one of the factors that led to him fleeing the Manor for another parent. Bruce... should have known. Probably? Things from that time are kind of hazy—TBIs, death and resurrection will do a doozy on your ability to form lasting memories.
Damn, if he's even managed to fool some of the Bats with his alpha facade, it must be damn near bulletproof. Or more likely it's a case of them not wanting to look too closely at things that might be uncomfortable. Red Hood, supervillain, crime lord, alpha is a lot more palatable.
Damian tugs on his arm again. "We must return."
"To where?" Jason definitely doesn't have the urge to brush his hair back, to check to make sure he's not feverish. The lack of a scent is really getting to him, he's used to it and it would be stupid to take them off in uniform but... But it doesn't feel real like his pup without the scent, like this could be the hallucination.
How would his pup have survived the League without him, after all? Jason prevented multiple assassination attempts while he was there—who would they have gotten that would do the same, would never take a bribe? Is there some other omega out there that Jason shares his pup with? If so Jason would like to thank them but he will also fight them if they won't share.
"To the Wayne den." Bruce inhales so quickly it's almost a gasp. Jason ignores him. This ain't about him. "It's been far too long since we've shared a nest."
....OK maybe it's a little bit about Bruce. "Yeah, I'm not going back there. You're coming with me."
"If you think I'm going to nest down in some dal-"
"My nest already has my scent."
Damian considers his proposal. Free under the helmet, Jason smiles fondly at him.
"Your bargain has been accepted. Father, I will return in time to prepare for school."
"Robin-"
Jason flips Bruce off, scoops his pup up into his arms and takes off for his closest den. He doesn't care if the others follow them back to it, he'll burn it down while his pup is at school. Right now he doesn't want to wait any longer to have a proper reunion.
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butwhyduh · 3 years
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Last night thing
Jason todd x reader
Summary: he stopped you from stealing a $25,000 watch but missed something else. Part 2 to Late night Thing.
Warning: kidnap, fighting, smut
As Jason pulled up his pants and contemplated his life choices of sleeping with a beautiful thief on a rooftop, he came to a conclusion. You stole his damn tie clip. He had said that he would break your hand if you tried to steal it and dammit, you had. Somehow it simultaneously made him mad and horny. How the fuck had you managed that?
Jason knew that he wouldn’t find you that night. So he went back to his safe house to lick his wounded pride and plan his next move. He needed to get that clip back. It was a gift from Alfred and he would literally kill for it. Though he seriously doubted that he’d need to do that. And Jason would never admit it but he didn’t want to kill you.
He planned to find you sometime during the next week. His tie clip was expensive but not extraordinarily expensive but you had to find someway to sell it without him finding it, which would take time. Jason just didn’t know that it would be the next day that he would find you.
He heard that Bane was throwing his weight around in the drug trade for some damn reason. Wasn’t his venom addition enough for one man? So Jason was snooping around, or investigating as the bats liked to say. He fully expected a boring night of listening in a warehouse for hours and learning very little but instead almost fell through the glass at the sight before him.
You were strapped to a chair with rope. The pretty dress you wore the night before was in tatters but you were covered. Your eyes were red and your nose had dried blood underneath it. You were shivering like a leaf.
“I’m not here to negotiate with you. I’m here for Cat Woman. You are her child and she will come or you will die,” Bane said casually. You gasped.
“She’s going to be mad. Why would she work with you after this?” You asked, braver than you felt. He turned and coldly looked at you before stalking over. His giant fingers wrapped around your throat and you thrashed in the chair.
Jason stood up and moved to jump into the fight despite the fact that he really didn’t want to fight the brute. But Bane let you go and you audibly gasped and sucked air through open lips. You trembled and heaved.
“If she does not care about you, I will move on to her next kitten,” he said and you gulped. You didn’t know if she would save you. Jason looked through the room for a strategy. 2 exits and the skylight he currently looked through. 3 goons that he could easily take out. Oh, and a 300 pound juiced up super soldier. That broke Batman’s back years ago. Fuck.
“Let me go and I’ll do anything you want,” you said and even Jason up high in the rafters could hear the waver in your voice. Bane turned and stared at you and your mind almost couldn’t comprehend the massive size of him. He was easily half a foot taller than Red Hood and almost 100 pounds heavily and Red Hood towered over you.
“What could I possible want from you,” he asked with an icy curiosity. He was watching you for a reaction. You wanted to shrink away but that would be a failure.
“Anything you could want. Information,” you suggested. “About Gotham.”
“I have my sources.”
“Uhhh,” you breathed. “Gems? Money?” He shook his head. Your heart hammered in your chest. He was a man, right? You could sell that maybe? “Me?” You breathed.
He laughed before looking you up and down. “I do not want you carnally, child,” he said. You almost sagged in relief and Jason’s hand released the gun he didn’t know he was holding. “No. We will wait for Cat Woman and if she doesn’t come in 2 days, you are dead.”
You hummed in fear. Bane sat crossed legged and closed his eyes. He threatened to kill you and then fucking meditated. You helplessly pulled at the ropes on your wrists.
Jason tried to piece together how you got there and how to get you out. He knew that he couldn’t exactly call Bruce. ‘Hey dad, do you want to fight the guy who broke your back over a thief he has tied up. Why? I don’t know! I just like fucking her on rooftops!’ Never saying that.
Nope. Instead he would attempt stealth. Against one of the best trained fighters in the world for a woman that robbed him. Yea, maybe Jason should have stayed 6 feet under because he’s a fucking idiot. He sighed before slowly moving towards them. Bane was sitting cross legged with his eyes closed in a meditation back to you.
You suddenly saw Jason out the corner of your eyes and your eyes widened before going back to normal. Bane didn’t seem to notice the slight change in your breathing. Jason snuck over to untie you. He slowly pulled the rope from around your wrists and you were almost completely untied when the end of the rope barely grazed the ground.
Bane snapped his head around as Jason drew his guns. You gasped as Bane launched himself towards Jason. You ripped your hand out of the rope as bullets flew. You scrambled to the floor but was quickly pulled up by the giant man. He clutched you by the shoulder and you whimpered in pain. Jason suddenly froze.
“This is far more interesting that I first thought. I looked for a cat and found a bat,” he laughed. You squirmed in pain. He sat you down but the hand stayed on your shoulder.
“She’s not important. Let her go,” Jason said. The metallic voice from his helmet sounded bored.
“If she is unimportant, she is better off dead,” he said roughly pulling you in his arms and one hand gently wrapped around your throat but didn’t tighten it. You grabbed at his fingers and sobbed pathetically. Your eyes were wide and terror was plain on your face.
“Let’s not. Put the lady down and we can talk,” Jason said and it was weird to see Red Hood negotiating. He was usually the muscle in the situation. It really showed you how fucked you really were.
“Okay I’m intrigued. I will hear your proposal,” he said sitting you down. You scampered behind Jason. Your whole body trembled.
“I know Gotham underground better than you ever will. Sorry but you’re scary as shit but not in a good way,” he said with a shrug. If you didn’t know any better, he seemed casual. “I can get you the venom you need. No cost for a while.”
“How long,” Bane asked. He was the kind so get all the facts before proceeding. He also had the weakness of being completely addicted to venom.
“A months worth.”
“6 months.”
“3 months.”
“Deal. If you break this deal I will crush her windpipe with my hand,” he said with no emotion. It was a promise, not a threat. Jason felt you move closer to him.
“Deal,” Jason agreed. Bane moved closer and you clung to Jason. You were clinging to Red Hood. How pathetic. Jason stood taller and stared at Bane. They shook hands.
Suddenly Bane slapped Jason violently across the face and you yelped. Jason went to the ground but quickly got up to a defensive crouch. You jumped in front of him with your heart beating so fast you would soon faint.
“For invading my space and my business,” Bane said before walking away. “Leave.” He didn’t turn to watch.
You noticed a little crack in the Red Hood helmet. How hard did Bane hit him? Jason stood up and pulled you out of the warehouse with him. He quickly grabbed you and shot his grappling hook out of the area. About half a mile away, he landed on a building. You clung to him and trembled.
“Hey, you’re safe,” he said. “You can let go.”
You pulled off but shivered like a leaf.
“Shit, you’re cold. Here. Here,” he wrapped his jacket around you and it helped your temperature but not your shivering. “Come here,” he pulled you in his arms and you clung. His heartbeat felt reassuring and he awkwardly patted your hair. You could tell Jason wasn’t used to providing comfort.
“He- he,” you started but stopped. “Can we go somewhere safe?”
“Come on downstairs. This is my place,” he said and you nodded. You followed him inside and it was far warmer but you couldn’t stop the shaking. His jacket was replaced by a blanket and Jason sat you on the couch. The helmet came off but domino stayed on. You practically climbed on his lap to be closer. Your eyes were still wide with horror.
You’d been arrested, harassed, even shot at. But never kidnapped like that. And by the giant Bane at that. Jason could feel the fear and adrenaline coming off of you. He rubbed your back softly. You looked up at him suddenly after a few minutes.
“You saved my life. You put yours in danger to save mine,” you breathed. He shrugged, a little uncomfortable under your gaze. “Thank you,” you added.
“Uh you’re welcome. It’s no biggie.”
“Yes it is,” you said before kissing him. Your pace was dizzying and rough. Jason was in shock at first. Your hands roamed his body before dropped down to his belt and he almost jolted up.
“Not today,” he said, stopping your hand. “I mean, normally I’d love to but not now. Give it a few days.”
“Why?” You said with your voice all breathy. Your lips were swollen and eyes dark and he almost gave in.
“You were just kidnapped. You need sleep. Not sex,” he said sliding away from you. “Are you hungry?”
“Wh- you don’t think I could want you?”
“I’m not in the mood. Almost getting killed by Bane really kills the urge,” he lied. If he thought you were in your right mind, he would have fucked you on the rooftop or against the first surface he found. You jumped in front of Bane for him. He found it all incredibly hot. “You need a shower anyways.”
It was cold and cruel but better than sleeping with a traumatized woman. You shook and nodded before using his shower. Jason felt twinges of guilt but ignored them. He knew it was better this way.
You came in nothing but his t shirt that hung like a dress. “Nothing else fit,” you said awkwardly. He could see the scars that covered your legs and bruises around your throat.
“We can lay in bed,” Jason said just as awkwardly. He might know what to do with a woman who wants to fuck him but not just one sleeping over. “For sleeping.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t try anything,” you said with a little smile and he smiled back. You both laid in the bed and it wasn’t long until you pressed your back against his chest and pulled his arms around you. He was strong and safe. You managed to sleep all night with the anticipated nightmares. They had time later to come up. When you weren’t cradled in his arms.
The next morning you woke up warm. The rise and fall of his chest was comforting. His hand held your waist loosely and you could seriously just stay in this moment. But as soon as you moved, you almost giggled like a teenager. He was hard and pressed against your ass.
“Ignore that,” he mumbled.
“Okay... how?” You said after a few seconds. “Because it’s pretty unforgettable for the man I like to sleep with to have his hard dick pressed against my ass. Have to say.”
“We only did it once in a rooftop. Was it that unforgettable?” He said and you could hear the smirk he wore.
“It was alright,” you said playfully but you couldn’t help but press back into him. Jason grabbed your hip to stop you.
“Trying to get me horny?”
“I think you already are.”
“That’s true,” he said before grinding against your ass. You pushed back to do your own rubbing. “And you’re not even wearing any panties,” he said bunching up the fabric of his shirt you wore. He slapped your ass soundly and you gasped.
“What was that for?”
“My tie clip. I hope you still have it,” he said before slapping your ass again. You reached behind you to grasp his cock through his sweatpants.
“I’ll get it back to you,” you said. His pants were pushed down. Jason hummed and rubbed his dick between your thighs. You sighed at the sensation and arched your back so he was sliding between your folds instead.
“You’d better,” he growled but it had no true heat. Not when he was so close to finally fucking you and had his lips leaving little marks on your shoulder and neck. You tried to press back onto him but he stopped your hips.
“Do you deserve it,” he asked running a finger along your hip, every once in a while dipping between your thighs to barely touch your clit. You jumped and grabbed at his wrist to hold him there but he just chuckled and moved away from where you needed him. His thrusting between your folds felt amazing but not enough and he was purposefully avoiding sliding in your hole. Jason quite liked the way your body panted and curved in desperation.
Finally feeling that you had been tortured enough, and he wanted in your wet heat, he pressed his hips forward and filled you. You whimpered and leaned your head back against him.
“Yes,” you breathed. Jason took his time slowly thrusting, letting you fill his full length. His free hand moved from pinching your nipple to circling your clit. You were practically clenching him from the start and he loved it. You were so receptive.
It didn’t take long for him to find a pattern that just got you a little more vocal and focused on that. “God, you’re fucking wet,” he breathed in your ear and you whimpered. You seemed to like what he had to say.
“Taking me so well. Acting like such a good girl,” he said and you breathed out a “Hood” in response. Oh yeah, you didn’t even know the name of the man that you let fuck you. You trusted him enough to sleep in his bed and you’d never even seen his eyes.
His finger circling your clit and cock angled to drag along your g spot had you seeing stars as you came around him. Jason grunted and held your hips tight before quickly pulling out to cum on your ass. He looked as the pretty white beads covered your skin. He wasn’t forgetting that image any time soon. He reached for a towel to clean you up.
Afterwards you turned in his arms and kissed him soundly before lying your head on his chest. You reached up to play with his hair with a little smile on your face. Jason could get used to this. As soon as he thought it, he had the urge to jump up and kick you out. He didn’t do permanent. You were just having fun.
“I need a shower,” he said roughly, getting up. Jason couldn’t help but notice the disappointment on your face that you quickly hid.
“I should get going before my walk of shame gets any later,” you said with an awkward laugh.
“Borough anything you need,” he said before disappearing into his bathroom. While in the shower he had time to think. Yeah, I’m totally not broken to be cool with fucking a woman but not being able to hold her. Not a sign of being fucked up at all, Jason thought. Probably got that from Bruce. Though my real dad probably did it too.
He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and immediately saw a note on the bed.
Had fun, Hood. We should do it again sometimes, (your number)
💕 Kitten
His tie clip was set underneath it. Jason smiled. Okay, this could be fun. He was young and sowing wild oats or whatever, right?
There was no way this could go wrong, right?
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stxleslyds · 3 years
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What do you think about the theories that Jason was sexually abused as a child? Or even possibly while he was comatose after his resurrection?
Implications of this theory include his conversation with Mia (Speedy) and Bruce's message (Battle for the Cowl). In addition, when he was Robin he expressed what was then considered uncharacteristic rage towards the perpetrators of sex crimes.
Garzonas - unrepentant rapist who got no consequences
When a woman killed her sister's rapist and murderer (because Batman's evidence was not admissible in court), Batman said that she went too far with murder. Jason's disagreed with "Good riddance". Good for you, Jason.
His recklessness when dealing with a child sex trafficking ring.
I highly doubt that DC would ever confirm this theory. I would rather they leave it ambiguous because I don't trust them to not botch Jason... much less respectfully address the subject matter.
I have read so many thoughts on Jason that they're starting to blend together. So I apologize if you've already answered this before.
Hello friend! Aside from the fact that I took way too much time to answer your ask, this was also a hard question to come up with an answer to, I wanted to remain respectful of the subjects at hand even though I don’t second this headcanon. But before we keep going, let me put some trigger warnings in this post.
trigger warning: mentions of sexual abuse, child abuse, rape.
First, I would like to bring up these two concepts because I oftentimes mix them up when talking about these “ideas”.
Theory: a supposition or a system of ideas intended to explain something; an idea used to account for a situation or justify a course of action.
Headcanon: Headcanon generally refers to ideas held by fans of series that are not explicitly supported by sanctioned text or other media. Fans maintain the ideas in their heads, outside of the accepted canon.
I think the idea of Jason having been sexually abused at any point in his lifetime is a mix between a theory and a headcanon. Why I am saying this? Because as you have put in the ask, there has been instances where fandom has found pieces of information that they have considered the base of this idea.
So, if we say that there is a piece of text that might support that idea and they build from that to justify a course of action we would be looking at a theory. In this case Jason having been abused would the reason as to why he acts in that strong and violent way towards cases of sexual abuse/harassment.
In the other hand those pieces of text might not support that idea so fandom headcanons that idea in order to build another layer to a character, in this case Jason having been abused would also justify his actions towards certain criminals.
The “text” (panels, issues, mentions) are most of the time ambiguous, which makes readers have different perspectives in what is being written and what then is made into a theory or headcanon.
Personally, I don’t like this theory or headcanon for various reasons (which I will explain later in the post), and I have read and understood those moments mentioned as Jason just having survived Crime Alley as something general, I don’t think he suffered that kind of abuse but I think he was made aware of that type of behaviour every day that he spent alone in the streets and that why we saw Jason in Batman #408 saying that he had “graduated a long time ago from the streets of crime alley”.
Having said that, I do understand that some of the moments mentioned can be seen as ambiguous and that’s what leads people to theorize/headcanon that idea, because of that I would like to show the panels mentioned in your ask so everyone can read them and make up their own conclusions and then I will talk about the reasons why I don’t like this particular theory/headcanon.
As Robin:
Batman (1940) #422
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In these panels we can see Jason as Robin jumping in to defend a woman that was being attacked by a man. There I only see Jason acting like a vigilante would, maybe he was hitting too hard or whatever but Batman has hit people as much as Jason was doing it this time around, plus I, personally, don’t see any kind of problem with Jason beating a man that was harassing and threatening a woman with death.
Right beside we have Jason being on the side of the woman that killed her sister’s attacker. He didn’t see any problem with that woman seeking justice for her sister on her own when the police, Batman and himself couldn’t get the job done.
Here I see Jason having a big problem with authorities and justice system, which is not something new, in Batman #408, Jason says very clearly that he doesn’t trust the system in Gotham (the police, social workers and such), and he was also shown in that comic talking very fondly about his mother and about how much he cared for her when she was at her worst. Let’s remember that Jason loved his mother, he took care of her and resented his father for being abusive towards her and even introducing her to drugs.
Instead understanding these panels as Jason having been abused himself, I see it more as Jason having a humongous understanding of how much women and others suffer in Gotham due to the justice system’s lack of action. I also see Jason as the kind of boy that respected all women and could not sit and do nothing when people were hitting and abusing women just like his father did to his mother.
Batman (1940) #424
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This issue starts by saying that Jason jumps into action as soon as he hears someone scream but that he wasn’t going to be prepared to see what was happening. This is the issue where all of us meet Felipe Garzonas, the abuser and rapist of many women. At first Jason doesn’t know what Felipe was doing but after he and Batman “defeat” Felipe, he goes to the room where he finds Gloria in a bed badly hurt and scared. Jason is shocked when he first finds her and after hearing her story in the police station, he becomes more and more happy about the fact that by having caught Felipe, he and Batman would be able to offer some peace and justice to Gloria after he goes to jail, but that doesn’t happen.
They had all the evidence to put Felipe in jail and the police could easily see that Gloria was the victim but because Felipe had someone to back his made-up story up, he was able to not be arrested and jailed.
Jason once again is baffled at the lack of action by the police or simply justice not being able to be made in favour of the true victim. Batman even says that he has noticed that Jason “had become to emotionally invested with the case” which could favour either idea (Jason having suffered sexual abuse or not), in my case I see this once again as Jason not being able to remain calm after doing everything to keep that woman safe and the justice system not being able to do it themselves in a more permanent way (jail time, or whatever).
But that’s not all because Jason being too emotional with that case was brought up as a way to show that Jason couldn’t see that Felipe had been under the influence of drugs, which is something that Jason can see in people very well (do to experience with his mother and his training with Batman). So, Felipe is now a rapist, an abuser, he does drugs and he also has a market for it.
Because Felipe was allowed to go back to his “normal” life he had Gloria be killed, and he kept abusing drugs and women, when Jason finds Gloria’s dead body and that Batman still seems to abide the justice system he snaps. He goes alone to see Felipe and that’s were this iconic panel comes from. The moments before Jason made his first kill and felt no remorse about it. I know this is kinda soft topic because Jason was a teenager, but good for him, kill that bitch. Gotham doesn’t need more people like him.
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Batman (1940) #226
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This is the issue where Jason attacks the men that were involved with some very nasty stuff involving children. Batman narrates and says that him and Jason had been working on this case for three weeks. Jason jumps into action suddenly and “recklessly” even though Batman considered their investigation wasn’t over, he also says that he thinks that Jason had been “acting oddly” and that he was very “moody, resentful and reckless” and that that attitude could “get him killed”.
This could be used as to add more proof of the abuse idea but I actually see it as build up to Jason’s death, that happened two issues later. Let’s remember that Jason found out of his birth mother and was desperate to find and save her from Joker, because he was a good son but also because he didn’t feel like Bruce loved, cared or appreciated him anymore. Ever since Jason made it clear that he didn’t see the world and justice in the same way that Batman did back in issue #422, Jason and Bruce’s relationship suffered, they just couldn’t see eye to eye on some subjects and Bruce’s neglect or lack of care for what Jason believed in drove Jason to act the way he did in the case involving his mother and the Joker.
Jason obviously has major issues with kids being abused and put in dangerous situations, he as the Red Hood (Winick’s Red Hood) is the same, he really wants kids to be taken far away from drugs so they cannot be manipulated, used and abused by Gotham’s Drug Lords. Here I can see some of the same thing, Jason being protective of those kids and getting fed up with how much time he and Batman had to wait to do anything about the subject, along side it I bet Jason wasn’t seeing the police or the justice system doing anything about the whole thing so that could have probably fuelled his desperate attack of those horrible people.
As Batman/Red Hood:
Batman: Battle for the Cowl #3
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Battle for the Cowl… yeah I am going to be brutally honest about this, if anyone thinks that this is someway or somehow proof that Jason had been abused in the past then I think we have very different ways of thinking how survivors must be treated or written in comics and other media.
This to me is pure bad writing, this is some of the worst things I have seen being written in comics. Whether or not this implies Jason being abused or not, Bruce’s message is absolutely disgusting and not at all helpful, it is even worse when you realise that Dick, a canon sexual assault survivor, is the one playing the message to Jason even though Jason explicitly said that he didn’t want to hear it again. That Book, issue, page and panel are extremely badly written and is one of the most terrible Jason and Dick characterizations ever.
So, I don’t really care if this panel is supposed to offer support to that theory or headcanon, I really dislike that speech and if it is actually referencing Jason as being a survivor of child abuse, then Tony S. Daniel needs to make an apology from today to the day he dies.
“Of all my failures, you have been my biggest” “You were broken and I thought I could put the pieces back together. I thought I could do for you what could never be done for me. Make you whole” “What happened to you as a child… the terror, the pain, the horrors” “You needed repair and instead I gave you an outlet to act out on”
Absolute garbage writing. Me, as Bruce is number one hater, know that that speech is even out of character for Bruce. Listen, if Jason had been a victim of sexual assault or just being a kid living alone in Crime Alley, no one should leave a message like that, telling a victim that they were broken and needed fixing, what the hell? No, thank you, this issue proves nothing except that Battle for the Cowl was a mistake as a whole.
Green Arrow (2001) #72
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Judd Winick is clever I will always say that, and while I do see why people think that Jason is making the “child abuse idea” canon I still think that the way that he talks is still fairly ambiguous if not just him playing mind games with Mia.
I know it sounds wrong, but hear me out, Winick, in this arc makes Batman say that Jason distracted him and Oliver just to take Mia as a “hostage” because that was Jason’s way to mess with him. This arc happens right after UtRH and Jason is a bit more unhinged than ever. But he doesn’t harm Mia, he just talks to her, he tries to make her see why he acts the way he does and to do that he talks about how much he sees of himself in her. Do I believe that Jason suffered the same things Mia did? No. Do I think that their past is similar? Yes.
But Jason doesn’t only use the fact that they have similar pasts to make Mia rebel against her “no killing ways” and Oliver like he did with Bruce, but he also brings up the fact that their past is incredibly different to the lives of Bruce and Oliver, and that those differences are of importance.
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Maybe it’s just me, but I didn’t see Jason bringing Mia’s past for anything other than manipulating her and kinda make her see Oliver in a negative light the way that he does Batman and Bruce. Jason was at a point in his life where all he wanted to do was deliver the same pain that he had gone through but he didn’t do it by physically harming anyone (Mia was left unscratched), he was just out there trying to play mind games so he could break more havoc in Batman’s name.
Mia’s past is just way too different to whatever we have seen in canon from Jason’s past. Maybe I am wrong, after all, I only read about Mia in that arc.
-
With all that having been said I think it’s pretty obvious that I just don’t think that Jason’ having been sexually abused as a child actually happened, and I also don’t like to think about his past in that way. His canon suffering could have made him act that violently against criminals involved with sexual attacks and drug-related crimes, but I also think that’s just how Jason was, he really disliked the justice system in Gotham and saw how much it failed to protect victims, so now that he had the training to help those who couldn’t do it for themselves, he tried his best to bring criminals to justice.
And when that didn’t work, he grew more and more frustrated with Batman’s methods which led him to be more unforgiving and violent.
I also don’t like the theory/headcanon as a whole because I think its one of those things that Fandom comes up with just for that extra angst factor in their favourite character’s story so they can make him suffer more and because of that no other Robin or character as a whole can ever understand his pain or whatever. In this fandom there is a lot of “competitive trauma” going on and I honestly dislike it a lot.
About Jason having been assaulted while he was in a coma, I don't really know, he was at a hospital for what I believe were six moths, maybe that idea comes from real life happenings but I have never thought of that happening in Jason's life and I would rather not give it much more thought.
Also, I believe that DC just like fandom would have never been able to handle the subject of Jason having been a sexual assault survivor with the respect and care that it actually needs. We have seen DC treat sexual harassment and abuse as nothing but a side plot or bringing it up in an extremely disturbing way. In Fandom some (very few) people end up glamorising or romanticising these subjects so, I don’t believe the comic world was or is ready to treat a backstory like this with the respect it needs.
Maybe I haven’t even treated the subject with the respect and care that it needs and if that’s the case then I am truly sorry.
I had never answered a question regarding this subject before and I really appreciate all the questions you send my way; they do make my brain happy. I am really sorry it took me this long to write an answer to you but I hope the post is good enough for all the time I made you wait!
I hope you have an amazing week!
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cdelphiki · 4 years
Text
“Fuck.”
Jason’s spoon clanked into his bowl, as he dropped it and fumbled for the remote. He’d been watching Jeopardy! with the volume low. Half the fun of the game was answering the questions himself, and really, the idiots on the show were often just distracting.
But Jeopardy! wasn’t on the screen anymore.
The Joker was.
The Joker and the current Robin.
“—play a game, shall we?” Joker said, and Jason just cursed louder as he tossed his cereal on the coffee table and jumped up.
“Hrnn,” Robin groaned, when the camera panned to him, “Who’d want to play with you?”
Fucking brat.
The poor kid looked in rough shape. His mask was slightly ripped, showing off a massive bruise right under one of his eyes. His fat lip and the blood trickling down his chin didn’t help much, either.
Oh, yeah. And the fact he was tied up and inside a tiny little cage.
How the hell had Joker got his hands on Robin?
Never mind, Jason thought, as he kicked around the shit on his floor, freeing the various pieces of his Red Hood uniform, he knew exactly how Robin got himself captured.
Batman was out of town.
And he’d left Robin in charge of Gotham.
Like a fucking moron.
“Uh, uh uh,” Joker said, “That’s no way to behave. Be a good little birdy.”
Robin groaned, when Joker stuck a stick inside Robin’s cage, and jabbed him in the side. He pressed a button, and Tim’s groan turned to a scream as he was electrocuted.
Jason grimaced.
“Now,” Joker continued, through a laugh, “The answer is ‘Topeka.’”
Joker’s stupid fucking laugh.
Jason should not be helping the bats.
He did not help the bats. The bats hated him. And, sure, they had good reason to, but it just meant Jason shouldn’t be helping them out of principle!
Why help people who hate your guts and wish you were still dead?
The bats are out of town, his mind helpfully reminded him, they can’t save Robin. And like hell was Jason going to let Joker kill another Robin.
“Shit,” he mumbled, as he grabbed his helmet and shoved it on his head. All he needed was his guns, now.
“Come now, Robin,” Joker said, “You’re disappointing the viewers at home.”
“No, you’re disappointing the viewers,” Jason snapped, as he placed three guns into his holsters, and grabbed his spare magazines, checking to make sure each was full. “No one wants to watch the fucking Joker fuck with a little kid.”
Even if that little kid was Tim Drake. And annoying as fuck.
The camera zoomed back on Robin’s face, and Robin finally mumbled out, “Capital of Kansas.”
Robin screamed, again, when Joker jabbed him with the shock stick, and Jason growled.
He grabbed his tablet and hacked into the batcomputer in record time. He wasn’t sure if Bruce knew he could still do that, but at the moment he was fucking glad he hadn’t been caught yet.
“You didn’t phrase your answer in the form of a question! Haven’t you ever watched Jeopardy!? That’s what the good folks want right now.”
“Fuck, kid,” Jason mumbled, as he triangulated a location on Robin’s tracker, “Where are you?”
Only Robin’s tracker was listed in Gotham, too. No one else was around. Not Alfred. Not Batgirl. No one.
Why the fuck did Bruce keep leaving Robin all alone?
Hadn’t he learned his lesson the first time?
Tim groaned on screen again, making Jason draw his gun and unload the full clip on the screen.
Shit.
His neighbors probably hated him.
“Where are you,” he growled at the tablet, just as Robin’s location finished loading.
Warehouse in Crime Alley.
Not even five blocks from Jason’s safe house.
Good.
- - -
The Joker had almost no henchmen guarding his warehouse.
Usually Joker’s operations were more thought through. Right?
This time it was just pathetic.
How in the ever-loving-fuck had he got his hands on Robin, anyway?
It took Jason not even ten minutes to reach the warehouse, break in, and incapacitate all ten of his thugs. It took only another fifteen seconds to climb up into the rafters, into the main area where Joker was ‘filming’ with Robin.
“Now, Robin,” Joker said, his his annoying high pitched drawl, “You are down in the negatives. You need to get this next answer correct or—”
Jason didn’t let him finish the thought.
Because he shot the Joker in the ass.
“Shut the fuck up,” Red Hood snarled, as he dropped down from the rafters, right on top of Joker, “No one cares as much as you think.”
“Hood,” Joker said, grinning wide, despite all the blood leaking out of him.
Or, well. Not much. Jason should shoot him again.
Robin would get all high and mighty, if Jason actually killed Joker.
Fucking hell.
“How nice of you to drop by!” Joker said, laughing, “We could use a second contestant.”
Yeah. Sure.
Jason brought his elbow down into Joker’s face. Hard. Breaking his nose and knocking him flat out.
“How disappointing,” Jason said, as he stood up and turned toward Robin, “That wasn’t nearly as satisfying as shooting him in the face would have been.”
Robin stayed laying there, where he was, curled up in his cage, clutching his stomach tight.
Whistling, Jason crossed the room and tried to get Tim’s attention. “Yo. Half-pint, you all right there?”
Tim didn’t react, other than to curl up tighter when Jason approached the cage and put a hand on one of the bars.
“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, kid. I’ll get you out.”
Ridiculously, it took longer to figure out a way to get Tim out of the cage.
He tried to pry the fucking lock open with a crowbar he found laying around…
Joker and his fucking crowbars.
But the lock wouldn’t budge, and the stupid replacement Robin kept flinching every time Jason got too near. Which, should have probably made Jason feel bad.
If he were, like, a good person.
Instead it just pissed him off enough that he grabbed the crowbar and started bashing it against the lock, until the damn thing fell off.
“Okay,” Jason said as he opened the cage door, “Tell me what the damage is, kid.”
Robin didn’t respond, so Jason reached in and placed one gloved hand on his shoulder. All he was going to do was shake it, a little. Just to make sure the kid was alive. And like, just out of it.
But apparently Robin was super out of it, because instead of growl at him or snap some dumbass quip, he jumped up and punched Jason right in the stomach.
“Fuck,” he huffed. The little sucker packed a mean one, but he was too damn out of it for it to do more than make Jason wince. “The fuck, kid? Knock it off.”
Tim jumped up, however, on top of the cage, then wobbled there as he tried to right his balance. The second Jason tried to reach out to him, to catch him before he toppled over, or some shit, Tim pulled out a couple of his stupid R shaped throwing stars and started throwing them.
“Shit,” Jason growled, as he dodged, “Kid, knock it off.”
“What do you want?” Robin asked, and with that, apparently reached the end of his spike of adrenaline.
Because the next thing Jason knew, Robin was falling off the cage bars he’d been perched on, and Jason had barely enough time to dive the few feet between them and catch the stupid runt before he landed on the concrete ground, head first.
“Get off me,” Robin demanded, thrashing about in Jason’s hold.
All it made Jason do was squeeze his arms around Tim tighter.
“Stop,” Tim said, his voice getting a little more desperate, “Get off.”
“Ow,” Jason complained, when Tim kicked him in the knee, “Would you knock it off. Am I hurting you?”
Tim stilled, for a second, and seemed to evaluate the situation. Jason was still holding onto him, but he loosed his arms a little.
“No?” Tim asked, like he wasn’t sure if that were the correct answer, or something.
Stupid brat. And they accused Jason of shooting first, asking questions later.
“Then why the fuck are you fighting me?” Jason demanded.
“You’re…” Tim said, then paused as he put a hand up to his head. Shit. Jason needed to get him back to a safe house and checked out.
Letting go of Tim completely, Jason set him down and maneuvered, so he was kneeling in front of the stupid runt. He put a hand on Tim’s head and forced his head back, a little, so Jason could get a good look at it. He could see one of Tim’s eyes, due to his mask having so much damage on it, and it looked like Tim was at least making eye contact.
Or, at least. As much eye contact as he could when Jason was wearing a helmet.
“You’re the Red Hood?” Tim finally answered.
Jason merely huffed. “Yeah. And you’re the boy hostage. Where are you hurt?”
“What?” Tim demanded, “Why do you care?” and Jason rolled his eyes.
“Like I’m gonna let Joker kill you. That’s my job.”
Okay.
Wrong thing to say.
Because Tim’s eye grew wide, and he shuffled backward, out of Jason’s reach, kicking his feet.
Jason tried to grab his feet, to make him stop, but Tim kept kicking, and got Jason right in the ribs.
“Ouch, stop it. I was kidding.” Tim got him on the chin, and Jason snapped, “Just stop. I’m trying to help you.”
“Why,” Tim demanded, as Jason finally caught one of his legs and held it up high enough that Tim lost his balance.
It was kind of amusing, how Tim landed on his back, and just groaned.
“Why’s there gotta be a reason?” he asked, “Maybe I don’t want to see another Robin die!”
“You beat me near to death like two minutes ago,” Tim shouted, pulling at his foot, and not succeeding in freeing himself.
Because Jason was standing, and Tim was short. It would be no trouble at all for Jason to just lift Tim right up off the ground entirely by his leg.
“It’s been four months, stop being dramatic.”
“You expect me to believe you’ve changed enough since then that it matters?” Tim demanded, just as he pulled another throwing star out and threw it at Jason.
Too bad for Tim, Jason saw it coming a mile away. And just caught it.
“Yep!” he cheered, “You done now? You’re, like, super out if it and your fight sucks. If you couldn’t tell.”
Robin mumbled something Jason didn’t catch, so Jason dropped his foot, and tried not to grin too wide when Tim groaned when his body hit the ground.
He didn’t fall too far.
And Jason was sure his head and upper back had been on the ground, already, before he let go.
“Can you walk on your own?” he asked.
Once Tim stopped being all dramatic about everything, he grumbled out a, “No,” so Jason knelt down next to him and offered a hand, to help Tim sit up.
Tim glared at him with so much derision, it risked making Jason laugh.
Instead, all he said was, “Then stop fucking fighting me and let me help.”
“Fine,” Tim snapped, lifting an arm up so Jason could wrap it around Jason’s shoulders, “But if you try anything, I’m calling for Superman.”
“Whatever,” Jason said, as he hefted Tim to his feet, and started making toward the warehouse exit, “Just shut up and let me get you out of here.”
Tim was in pretty rough shape.
Jason already knew that, of course, but it became even more obvious as they made their way back to Jason’s safe house.
Mostly because Jason did all the fucking work.
Tim’s left leg was obviously fucked up. Jason was a little glad he hadn’t held that leg up in the air, because then he’d feel guilty.
And that wasn’t it. He kept clutching at his stomach, and Jason was willing to bet there was at least some pretty bad burns there from all the zapping.
Dragging Tim’s ass up the side of Jason’s building was easy, of course. But annoying. Because Jason had to hold onto Tim tight, because the stupid brat’s grip kept loosening whenever Jason jostled him too much.
“Shit kid,” Jason mumbled, as he pushed Tim through the window to his safe house, “I can’t believe Bruce leaves his fucking kid all alone to protect Gotham when he’s out of town.”
Because, seriously.
This was ridiculous.
Tim was fucked up. And it was all Bruce’s fault.
“M’not his kid,” Tim mumbled, as he stumbled a few feet inside Jason’s safe house, over to the couch. He collapsed down with an oof.
Jason rolled his eyes and closed the window behind him, after he jumped inside. “You are too a kid,” he said, unsnapping his helmet and tossing it down on the ground, “You’re like, thirteen.”
Tim followed Jason with his eyes, even as he sank into the couch a little more, and said, “I’m fifteen. And I said I’m not his kid.”
“Fifteen!” Jason shouted, tossing his gloves on the ground. His safe house was pretty small, so his kitchen was his living room. And he, thankfully, had a pretty good first aid kit sitting in the cabinet under his sink. “That’s how old I was. And obviously I meant his son, you idiot.”
“I’m not his son either,” Tim said.
Jason paused, as he was pulling his kit out, and looked up over the counter at the little brat.
“He didn’t adopt you?”
Hadn’t Talia said….?
How the fuck was he even Robin?
“No,” Tim exclaimed, “I have a dad.”
Is that why Bruce was more lenient on Tim? Because he wasn’t his son?
Bruce never let Jason out of his fucking sight as Robin.
He’d thought that was because he didn’t trust Jason, and clearly he trusted Tim.
But was it maybe because he’d adopted….
Nope. Not thinking about this.
“And he lets you run around with the bats?” Jason asked, finally crossing back over to Tim and slamming the first aid kit down on the coffee table.
Tim jumped, but then scowled at Jason and said, “It’s not like he can stop me.”
“Seriously, kid?”
“Look. It’s none of your business. Are you gonna let me go?”
In that state? Not bloody likely.
But instead of say that, and get Robin all fighty again, Jason said, “I’m not keeping you prisoner, but let me look at your injuries.”
Tim rolled his eyes, but sank back down into the couch and mumbled, “I’m fine.”
“Uh huh,” Jason said, pointing toward the stomach Tim was still clutching, “lemme see.”
It took a second of Tim glaring, but he finally relented and lifted his shirt, and Jason could only wince in sympathy.
“Damn, Timbo,” he said, looking at the criss crossing scorch marks littering his abdomen, “Those look fun. I’ve got some burn cream that should help.”
Jason worked on Tim’s injuries in silence for a good ten minutes. He had so many burns, Jason kind of wanted to go back and shoot Joker in the ass again, just for inflicting them.
And maybe go find Bruce and shoot him in the ass, for leaving Tim all alone for this to happen in the first place.
“That one needs stitches,” Jason said, after he’d pulled Tim’s sleeves up, inspecting his arms for any more burns to treat. Instead, he found a jagged knife wound, that was still oozing a little. “Did you think you could hide it from me?”
Tim pulled his arm closer to himself, and mumbled, “S’not that bad.”
Jason rolled his eyes, and pulled out his suture kit. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Amazingly, Tim didn’t fight him at all, when he took his arm back and started cleaning the wound enough so he could apply the local anesthetic and start stitching it up.
Instead, all Tim did was stare at him, a little blankly.
It was actually unnerving.
“What?” he snapped.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I told you,” Jason scoffed, readjusting his hold on Tim’s arm so he could get the last few stitches in straight, “I’m not letting Joker kill another Robin.”
And, sure. Stitching the kid up and treating all his burns was going a little above and beyond.
But Jason would feel a little bad if he, like, bled to death or whatever.
“Yeah,” Tim said, blinking hard as he ran his free hand through his hair, “But like, you coulda just took him out and left. Why’re you— ow.”
“Whoops,” Jason said, bearing his teeth a little as he grinned at the accidental needle prick he gave Tim outside the numbed area, “Are you seriously complaining? Don’t you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth?”
Tim was rich, wasn’t he? Weren’t they taught that shit, too?
Jason was pretty sure Bruce never let him be ungrateful about gifts. Not that Jason would, of course. But even Bruce Wayne taught his kids to be thankful for what they had…
Then again. Tim apparently wasn’t Bruce’s kid…
“When that gift horse tries to kill us every other week, no,” Tim said.
“Shut up,” Jason scoffed, “I haven’t messed with you idiots in months.”
Which was, absolutely, completely, 89% true.
He hadn’t attempted anything fatal on them in months. Fucked with their cases for the laughs? Maybe.
Mostly just Bruce’s. When it didn’t get anyone hurt, of course.
Just because it was fun to fuck with Bruce.
Because fuck Bruce.
“Yeah, but— ow.”
Jason might have stabbed him again.
“All done,” he said, before Tim could get out whatever it was he was going to protest, “Congratulations, you’ll survive. You can sleep here. I’m burning the safe house tomorrow, though.”
He’d shot the TV. So it was pretty useless now, anyway.
“Next time you get captured by the Joker, I’m shooting you in the ass, got it?”
“Yeah,” Tim said, rolling his eyes as he settled back on the couch a little more comfortably, “Whatever.”
Jason watched as Tim pulled his legs up and clearly just… collapsed there. To sleep. And rolled his eyes even harder.
Like that would be comfortable.
On his way to the window, after he’d put his helmet back on, Jason grabbed the blanket and pillow from under the coffee table and threw it right at Tim’s head.
Tim scowled, but did readjust himself so he looked at least slightly more comfortable.
Satisfied, Jason nodded and said, “Kay. Tell Bats I said fuck him. Later, squirt.”
“Thanks, Jason,” Tim mumbled, just as Jason was slipping out of the window.
Heh. The runt wasn’t so bad, after all.
Maybe.
But Jason was not going to make a habit of this. No way.
If he did, he’d have to go shoot Batman in the ass, for letting his stupid little Robin get hurt.
That would be fun, actually.
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alyssadeliv · 3 years
Text
The Forgotten One
First      Previous
Chapter 12
They were going to the zoo. Richard had decided that after two months of her living in the Manor it was time to have some family bonding time. It didn’t matter that most of her time in the last months was used to get to know her new extended family or get reacquainted with her old one. 
He was adamant that she needed the full Gothamite experience, so here they were on a Friday afternoon on a crowded metro, listening as the oldest one tried and explained how Metro’s worked to her. He was so happy, gesticulating and smiling, that she didn’t have the heart to tell him that she indeed knew how the metro worked, having lived in Paris for almost two full years.
After Damian, Richard was her favorite sibling, mostly because she had always seen him as a role model, as part of her training had been inspired by him and his trapeze maneuvers, but she did enjoy the warmth that she tended to feel when he was around. He was patient and had no problem explaining pop culture references to her. Not that she didn't enjoy spending time with her other siblings, it was just that Richard went out of his way to make her feel accepted.
Tim was a very busy person, and their interactions were reserved to 3 a.m. coffee hunts. He wasn’t bad, just closed off, and a little wary of her after his first experience with Damian. Not that she could blame him. But she was a bit closer to his girlfriend, Stephanie Brown, who would come to have dinner at the Manor every week. 
And there was Jason. She refused to address him as her brother, that would just be plain weird. After the initial shock of finding each other again had worn out, it had taken a few weeks for them to finally address the elephant in the room. She could tell that he had struggled with the news that she was Bruce’s biological daughter.
“Dick, maybe speed the lecture a bit so we can still get to the zoo before it closes.” Jason was leaning casually against a wall, finding this whole situation funny. He was wearing jeans and his red leather jacket, nothing special, but if she was honest he looked rather handsome. 
“It’s fine Jaybird, I was just wrapping it up!” He says with a smile, just in time for them to catch the next wagon. Because they spent at least 25 minutes listening to Richard’s lesson, the metro had emptied a bit so they were able to find seats. It was just the three of them, the others would meet them there, after being picked up by Alfred, Damian after school, and Timothy after a meeting. 
“So… I know Bruce said not to ask, but I’ve been dying to know…” Richard starts unsure, afraid to cross a line. They were lucky to score seats in the same section, she was seated with Jason by her side, with Richard in front of him facing them both. “But how exactly did you two meet, I mean it was obviously at… Tibet-'' He caught himself before he could out them as members of the League, you never knew who could be listening in their conversation, so better safe than sorry. “- but why do you know Jason, but Damian didn’t?” 
With a glance to the side, she was more than happy to allow Jason to explain that part. In the two months she lived at the Manor she saw how much they wanted to ask about their relationship, but kept their distance. Aside from Damian, they didn’t feel the need to inform the family about their past. 
“Well, Pixie Pop here was the one to train me for the duration of my time in the Temple. Kicked my ass more times than I can count.” He says with a smirk, while casually butting an arm on the back of her seat. “She taught me most of what I know”
“Most of it?” She was indignant, but the smile on her face betrayed her true emotions.
“To be fair B didn’t totally suck as a parent.” She knew that he and Father didn’t have the best relationship after he came back from his time at the League, but according to Damian, it used to be way worse, not that she would know. Richard seems content with their explanation and didn't demand more information, even if he desperately wanted to. He respects their boundaries, and that only makes her like him more.
When they got to the zoo, Damian and Timothy were already there, but surprisingly Stephanie had tagged along, so now she wasn’t the only female in the group anymore, not that she cared, but she liked her brother’s girlfriend so the surprise was appreciated. 
She had never been to the zoo before, just to see the attractions. The times she went to fight an Akuma did not count. It was a bit sad seeing all these animals stuck in a cage, and she could tell her brother felt the same. Damian always had a soft spot for animals, and would not tolerate if they were being mistreated. Not surprisingly, the Waynes made annual donations to the zoo to ensure that all the animals were well taken care of. When she first heard about that she was glad that Father cared about Damian’s interests enough to pay to support every zoo and animal shelter in the city. It helped ease her guilt for abandoning him for two years knowing that now she was not the only one who cared for him.
They spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying the animals. And Dick was glad he chose to go to the zoo as a family bonding experience. When Damian first came into the family he had taken him there, after discovering that his younger brother absolutely adored animals and he was happy to see that Marianne liked it as well.  
Efficient as always, Alfred was already there waiting for them the minute they crossed the exit of the building. As she came to know, the men seemed to have a six sense when it came to all of them. Just by his aura, she could tell he wasn’t someone you wanted to cross, but she could see how much he loved each one of his grandchildren (because she could never kid herself to think of him any less than a Grandfather).
“I assume that today's activities were enjoyable.” The butler asks as he opens the back door of the limo for them. Richard enters first thanking the men.
“It was acceptable” Damian voices, as he too enters the vehicle.  
It was a bit of a ride, seeing that the Manor was almost outside of Gotham, but she didn’t mind. Seated between Richard and Damian she spent most of the journey chatting with everyone. But by the time they arrived at the house everyone was a bit tired, so dinner was a relatively small affair. But not uneventful, because as revenge for Bruce bailing on family day, the boys started sharing with her all the shenanigans of her father’s public persona, Brucie Wayne. It was amusing to see this new side to her father, always so reserved and serious. 
“If you are all finished sharing Master Bruce's embarrassing moments, I believe it is time for patrol.”  Alfred as always came to defuse the situation before it could implode. 
Because she spent most of the last two years fighting almost every single day, she decided that she needed some rest from her hero lifestyle. Even after her father asked if she would like to accompany them on patrols, she decided to turn it down for now. So while her family directed themselves to the cave, she made her way into her suite. 
It was a beautiful room. Although the color scheme wasn’t something she would have picked herself, it fit with the furniture rather nicely, and her artist side appreciated that. The room itself was simple, but the red colors and the dark wood made the room seem cozier than it was. With a double bed with a canopy, two bedside tables, a vanity with a mirror, and a wardrobe, it had everything she needed. Her Father had encouraged her to decorate her room the way she wanted, and she had been tempted to do so, but ultimately decided to wait until she settled into her role as a family member before she went and added more change to the mix. What she had been very close to doing was adding a desk so she could draw and design, but after she discovered that there was a big one in the library just a few doors from her room, she dismissed the idea.  
Quickly she showered and changed into something more comfortable than her street attire, before exiting the room and making her way into the library. It wasn’t as big as the one downstairs, but it had a big balcony that overlooked the gardens, so she liked to just sit in a shadow and sketch away. Damian had been kind enough to spare one of his unused sketchbooks and some pencils, knowing that she liked to draw just as much as he did. She leaned forward into the railing resting her arms and head, but still looking upwards.
The sun had already set, and she was glad that they were far enough away from the city that she could see some stars in the sky. Having lived in Paris, she had really missed all the stars she could see at night from her home on the League. One of her studies had been about the Astros, so she spent a lot of time as a kid contemplating the skies. 
“It’s going to rain soon” A voice comes from behind her. Without having to turn around she knew who it was. A smile appears on her face.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for patrol?” She asks, straightening her body, but still not turning around. She could feel the person getting closer to her until she felt a presence at her side. 
“That’s the whole point. It's gonna rain.” He carries a hint of humor in his tone “And besides I prefer to keep you company, Pretty Girl. Besides, I believe Red Hood deserves one night off. The guy has been working hard.” He jokes.
With a smile she finally faces him. He had showered and changed, and without his red jacket, he looked so relaxed. It reminded her of their time in the League. Like that he looked so much like the angry boy she helped train. So young and while broken, so full of life and fight in him. He smirks at her but turns his face upwards to look at the night. 
“You always did love the stars.” He commented, not looking at her. “It’s sad that here you can't see them as much.” 
“It’s not that bad. In Paris, you couldn't see any. It was sad, but to be fair the whole city more than compensated for that. It’s beautiful there.” She recalled all the times she went on a midnight stroll around the city, just enjoying the architecture. “I could spend eternity drawing all the details in the buildings.” 
“Do you miss it?” He asks, looking at her. His tone is neutral, but by his body language, she can tell he’s anxious for her answer. She had always been good at reading him, and she was glad that their time apart had not changed that. 
“In a way…” 
She sighs.
“I liked the city, but I spent most of my time there fighting and training. Not much different from before. It was like everything changed but was still the same. To be completely honest… I miss our time at the League the most.” She confesses but hurriedly continues. “Don’t get me wrong, it was hard! But still… at the same time…”
“I get it.” He interrupts her. He has a small side smile, and the dimples on his face make her want to freeze this moment and draw him so she could eternalize him. Instead, she gets closer to him, seeking comfort in his presence at her side. He embraces her. Securing her in his arms, her body pressed against his, her head buried in his chest.
It was funny to think that the most capable woman to take care of herself he knew, chose to be vulnerable around him. It made him feel loved.
“I miss it too.” He whispered in her ear. She raises her head, just enough that she can see his face without removing herself from his arms. Staying like this reminds her of all the nights he used to sneak into her chambers. And they would talk and hold each other for hours. It felt like it was just yesterday the first time he got the better of her.
“Focus!” She yelled while landing a kick at his unprotected left side. “You are unbalanced- in three moves I could have you on the ground again” She punched him to his right, but he was able to block her and tried to deliver a punch of his own. His knuckles were bloodied, and he knew that in the morning his ribs would hurt. But at this moment he was high on adrenaline. She dodged. 
They were training for what felt like hours. But both were too stubborn to ask for the fight to end. 
But just as promised, in three more moves he was on the ground. He tried to get back on his feet to continue with the fight but was stopped by a foot on his torso.
“That’s enough.” She helps him to get on his feet. “You were great! You could have overpowered me so many times! I left you so many openings!” She laughs. This was routine for them. After a fight, Marianne was usually so pumped with adrenaline that she spoke at a mile per hour. “We really need to work on your tactics this week. Oh! You also need to improve your stance, you’ve been favoring your right side too much. I know your ribs hurt but you still need to protect your body as a whole.” She comments only stopping to take a large sip of water. “Well, I am spent.”
“You’re spent? I’m the one that has been eating dirt for the whole hour!” He complains indignantly. She tossed a water bottle in his direction, which he grabs and happily finishes in a single gulp.
“Just another reason you need to study more!” She grins. And turns to exit the room, and while walking to the door turns to him again. 
“See you in a bit” She winks. 
When they meet again they are in her room. She’s seated on the bed sketching some view, while Jason sits on the floor sharpening his knife. They chat casually for some time, but ultimately end speaking about their training session earlier. 
“That move would have totally worked!” He exclaims, knife long forgotten he now kneels facing her bed. 
“There’s where you are wrong, you need strength on your fist on both sides to push my torso, otherwise I would easily be able to doge only one. You need two punches at different sides in succession for you to distract your opponent!” She explains in a hurry. Her thoughts jumped around her head. 
“No way! If it’s strong enough, only one is needed!” He argues.
Worked up she threw her notebook to the side, forgotten. In a second she was up, signaling for him to do the same.
“There is no way. Stand there, pretend to be in stance.” She directs, and without a second thought, he complies. “Okay, so I come for your right side first, you are stronger there.” 
Her movements are slowed, as she demonstrates the move. “That’s going to distract you, and keep you focused on your stronger side, leaving your weaker one unprotected.” She shows him where he left an opening for her. “So all I need to do now is strike again, focusing more strength now. Either a punch or a kick would do the trick.” As she goes to demonstrate her point, he grabs the incoming slow punch and pulls her into his body. 
Unprepared she loses her balance, falling into his chest. In a second he secures her with his other arm, keeping her in his embrace. She feels her face burning with embarrassment. He caught her by surprise, and she felt ashamed.
“Hey that wasn't fai-” But he silences her, bringing his face closer to hers and giving her a heated kiss. It lasts for some time, but when they finally separate themselves he has a grin on his face.
“Just to be clear, I knew the move wouldn’t have worked. You just look cute when you're angry.” 
And before she can protest he shuts her up with another kiss.
So this is by far the biggest chapter! Hope ya’ll like it! We finally get the story behind Jason and Marianne. Let me know what you think!
Next
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gangrenados · 3 years
Note
What about gushing over Redhood while Jason just sits there snickering since your dumbass has no clue?✌️
This isn't like super fancy narrated, but I did my best lol
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•Jason had to admit that he was surprised when you told him that Red Hood was your favorite vigilante, he couldn't believe you at first since he never thought someone would actually have him in such a high pedestal nor even like him that much.
•However, he felt proud to know that he was with someone who thought that his vigilante persona had worth.
• You were in total awe at the images that were being currently played on the tv screen:
Red Hood strikes again and beats up a bunch of drug traffickers! PSA: his new suit is hot af
•Such a hard way to start the day, but you couldn't focus on the gruesome parts of the news right now since your brains too occupied by being delighted by that beautiful images of Red Hood beating up some criminals.
•Wow, even in the police footage he looked hot.
"Oh my God, I would let him crush me with those tights..." your whisper makes Jason turn to you with a shocked expression.
•For the past 15 minutes he has been watching that lame ass gossip show with you just because he wanted to spend some precious time by your side and enjoy his breakfast.
• He had to admit that this kind of entertainment wasn't his thing, but it was hilarious seeing your reactions at any piece of media that showed Red Hood. Besides that it fueled his ego doing this.
•"I'm literally by your side, do you know that right?" He snickers and you realize that you have been caught thristing over the vigilante.
•"You know that I love you, right?" You try to make up with a smile, but it doesn't work.
•"Not more than your precious Red Hood though." Jason say, trying his best to not show his delight over this situation.
•If only you knew that the man you wanted to break your back and make you see stars was in front of you.
•Yeah, Jason have thought about telling you the truth, but he knew that it would be dangerous for you to know about his second identity.
• Everything wasn't just stan accounts and having people lusting over him , although Jason still didn't understand why they did that kind stuff.
"C'mon Jay, don't be like that. You know I love you with all my heart, but Red Hood- he has je ne sais quoi, you know?"
" I can't believe you even started speaking French for that Red hood." Jason just shakes his head, pretending to be disappointed but your playful smack in his arm breaks his acts, making him burst in a few chuckles.
"You're such a manchild."
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consumeconstantly · 4 years
Text
Innocence, avoidance
Summary: Jason Todd cracks crass jokes and dirty comments like they’re his lifeblood. It turns out, he’s just getting it out of his system before he sees his little sister again. (Or: Marinette gloms onto Red Hood after her parent’s death, and there’s no way anyone can stop her from being with her older brother.)
___________________________________________________
Jason Todd, AKA Red Hood, is not the kind of man people go to when they want to complain about their life problems. They go to him when they want a quick, oftentimes violent solution; Red Hood isn’t exactly a renowned empath. In comparison to his other Bat Family counterparts, he is at least 10 times more crass and almost 15 times more violent. 
It is accepted that although Red Hood makes situations turn out for the better, he is no shining paragon of human virtue and kindness. People trust him to watch their backs and not to fuck them over so long as they’re working within his very clearly defined set of values, but he’s just not the kind per person that anyone would entrust their kid to during their Friday date night.
Until somebody does.
The door to the warehouse is already open, and he has a gun in his hand, ready to threaten the little crowd he’s gathered today when a woman hops out of her car and shoves a pig-tailed girl with wide blue eyes and an almost blindingly neon pink outfit towards him.
“There you are, you weren’t at the drop site!” says the woman, who instantly begins to back away from the two of them once the little girl picks herself up off the ground that she landed on. Red Hood notes the license of the getaway car, making a mental reminder to deal with them later, but the car makes tracks. The little girl frowns at the disappearing car, eyes the gun in his hand, then decides that she’s going to stay put. 
Red Hood looks at the rabble that has convened in the warehouse, down at the little girl, then back again. There are at least five people in the room that are eyeing the little girl greedily, and he’s sure that if he just lets her go, she’ll be captured by one of them faster than he can bat an eye. He doesn’t exactly have time to put the girl in a safe place, not when it’s taken him months and a good number of heads in order to draw these people here. 
She looks wary of the gun and of him, but not scared. Everyone else? Half of them look like they’re about to burst out laughing, and the other half have looks that he’s eager to wipe off their faces.
“Aww, look at that! Hood has finally found his way into the dark side of the business. What’s next, prostitution?”
Without hesitation, he shoots with deadly accuracy at the man’s hand. The man keels, bending over and clenching his bloodied appendage. Other than the man’s screams, the room goes completely silent.
Red Hood casts another glance at the little girl, who has, slowly but surely managed to inch away from him and into a safer position. She’s holding onto her sparkly purple plastic backpack like it’s the only thing that’s keeping her alive. Smart kid, not to run. Or was it dumb? He wouldn’t shoot her, and he’d take out anyone else who tried to, but the girl didn’t know that. She probably just assumed that she was going to his next target.
“All of you shut up while I deal with this.” He inhales deeply and kneels down to get on eye level with the girl. Not that she can see much of his eyes, given his helmet, but still.
He has half a mind to go after the woman, but he’s not about to leave the little girl amongst the group of criminals that are gathered in the warehouse with him. Briefly, he wonders how the hell that couple even knew that he was going to be here tonight. He also wonders what he’s going to do with the kid. “What’s your name, kiddo?”
She looks up at him, hands clenched around a plastic pink backpack with some kid’s cartoon on the back, then looks out at the people that have gathered. There’s a moment of silence, and Red Hood is sure that she’s weighing her current options. Smart kid. Eventually, she shifts her body weight closer to him, apparently drawing the conclusion that he is the safer option than the other people who are here tonight. Smart kid.
“It’s Marinette, sir.”
No last name. Not sure if that’s a pointed decision to keep her identity at least partially concealed, or just because she doesn’t have one.
“And those weren’t your parents?” It stands to reason that the people in that care aren’t her parents, but he needs to make sure.
Marinette clenches her backpack tighter. “No, sir.”
“Where are they?” He has a sinking suspicion if those weren’t her parents, and she’s not up in tears, asking for a phone to call them, that--
“They’re dead, sir.”
Sometimes, Jason wishes he could be wrong on things like this. 
“Then who were they? And don’t call me sir. Too formal.” 
“My mom’s... second cousin, I think? I never met her before, but I got sent here anyway.” 
One of the men shifts. He’s one of the men who Red Hood pegged as a possible child trafficker. Underneath his helmet, Jason’s eyes narrow. He now has a fairly good idea of how the couple figured out that he was going to be here tonight.
“Do you know how to get back home?”
At that, Marinette's mouth almost twitches up into a smile. “No sir. I don’t think there’s a home to go back to, anymore.”
Red Hood sighs. Putting the information presented to him together, he quickly comes to the conclusion that Marinette’s parents have died recently and that nobody in her immediate family has found out about their passing, or they don’t want her. Somehow, the couple picked her up-- possibly when she was going to a friend’s house, judging by the whole school girl look she has going on-- and thought she would fulfill the trafficking requirements laid out to them. 
That means that there aren’t a lot of options available to her. He can redirect her to the foster care system, but everybody knows foster care messes up kids permanently. Even though she looks to be pretty street smart, he couldn’t just let her live out on the streets in good conscience. Her outfit looks too clean for her to ever have lived in poverty, and she definitely checks the box for a lot of the trafficking rings that have been popping up recently. Mixed descent, the possibility to be pretty when older, and very, very pure. She’d get picked up off the streets within hours if she just let her be. 
He decided that he’s let her have the final say. “What do you think I should do in this situation?”
She shuffled her pink ballet clad shoes, eyes darting to the sides. He had to give the girl this much at least; even though she had the whole innocent look going for her, she was very aware of her surroundings. Her body language implied that she didn’t believe him to be that much of a threat— and in any other case, he’d fault her for that, but given that let their surroundings were a drug den he’d let it go— and tilted herself so she could have as many people in her sights as possible. “Sir, I think as long as you could get me out of here safely, I’ll figure out how to take care of myself.”
The man Jason was watching, the possible trafficker, tensed. Yeah, Jason is definitely going to have to take care of him later. This kind of a reaction as good as cements the suspicions he’s had. 
“Tell you what, princess. Do you mind waiting outside for me? I’ll help you out once I’m done here.”
Marinette eyed the rest of the room. “How long will you take?”
She’s asking all the right questions. Maybe it will be easy for her to fit into the slums of Gotham. 
“Not long,” Red Hood promised. “Ten minutes at most.”
The collection of people who have gathered in the warehouse all swallowed uncomfortably. Everybody knew that when Red Hood dealt with things quickly, it typically ended in copious amounts of bloodshed and shock. 
“Okay,” Marinette paused, grip loosening on her backpack. “Ten minutes.
#
Red Hood doesn’t particularly want to have Marinette around for the violence that’s about to occur, but she’s already seen him shoot one person, so it’s too late to shield her innocence. And violence? It’s a slippery slope.
He makes quick work of the room; half of the people he brought out here, he kills off directly. The other half are made to watch as the people they’ve associated with for years die in front of their eyes. This is a power play. A way to… persuade them to reform. Because the people he’s left alive? Red Hood has left them alive for two reasons. One. They’re not nearly as bad as most of the higher ups in Gotham. Two. If he kills all of the people who have dabbled in anything bad, the chain will be completely messed up, and there will be too much room for unknown variables to make their way up the ranks. He wants people he can control. And the people he’s left alive? He can keep all of them in line.
Marinette is not waiting outside for him. They’re right next to Crime Alley. This is not going to end well.
#
He’ll give the little girl props for somehow managing to avoid his detection. 
To be more precise, he’s hoping that she’s simply avoiding his detection, and hasn’t gotten swept up in something bad. 
It takes Jason three hours-- three hours-- to find the girl who can’t be much older than ten. Probably not even ten, judging by her size. 
“You’re lucky it’s me finding you, and not someone else, Pixie.” He finally catches a glance of her glaringly sparkly backpack, complete with fairies and unicorns covered in some sort of holographic overlay.
Marinette immediately backs up, looking definitively worse for the wear. She’s gained rips in her clothes and  a nasty looking scraped knee. Her face loses all color when she sees him. “S- sorry, sir. I swear I wasn’t running away, it’s just that there was someone outside who tried to grab me, and--”
If Jason didn’t know better, he’d believe the girl. 
However, he does have a decent number of connections, and those connections ensured that nobody was going to be able to come near the warehouse once his ‘meeting’ started. Though, he’ll have to have a talk with them, given that someone tried to pass the goods right before it started. Jason is fairly sure that the couple has been apprehended by now, but checking later tonight won’t hurt. 
Which means Marinette made the decision to run.
Again, that would have been a very, very smart decision had she not found herself in Crime Alley of all places. It looks like she’s learned a little bit about why she should stay away from places like this.
“It’s fine, Pixie. Like I said earlier, just call me Red Hood, or Hood. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Marinette balks.
Jason sighs. “Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but you can trust me. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. All I want is to see you safe.”
“But,” Marinette bites her lip. Her eyes drop to the guns at his side. That’s… that’s a good reason not to trust him, to be honest. If he were in her position, he’d already be running.
“Do you have anyone you can contact? Anyone you trust? I can take you to them.”
She’s starting to tear up, and god, Jason cannot deal with crying children. Marinette’s big, blue eyes and pigtails and her general smallness. He just can’t. “Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. What, do you-- do you want a cookie or something? I can bring you to a bakery before we talk? Sweets are supposed to cheer kids up, right?”
Marinette lets out a watery laugh. 
“I like macaroons,” she offers.
#
“So, how old are you?”
In the warmth of the bakery, Marinette looks markedly more relaxed. She went to the bathroom to clean her face and cut off, and now she looks like the poster child of one of those band aid ads. Lively, a little mischievous, and, you know, a child.
She takes a delicate bite of the shortbread cookie-- not a macaroon, there aren’t many reputable bakeries in Gotham that are close and have French pastries. “Nine and a half.”
Oh man, she’s younger than Replacement. 
“You’ve really got no family here? None at all? No friends you can call?”
“No, I’m from France.”
Well, that certainly answers a lot of questions. But brings up additional ones. “You speak English very well.”
“Maman and Papa ran a very popular bakery. We got a lot of foreigners. Before we moved to Paris, we lived in New York.” She takes a sip of her drink, whipped cream stuck on her nose. “And I don’t remember anyone from New York. We moved to Paris when I was three.”
Jason sighs. “What do you want to do?”
“Maman said that if I were ever left on my own, my only job was to survive by any means.” 
“That’s…” He tries to find the right words. “Interesting advice.”
In what parallel universe do parents of a bakery in Paris-- one of the major cities in the world with the lowest crime rates--tell their children to survive by any means?
“Did she tell you how?”
Marinette tilts her head, pigtails bouncing. “She told me to trust my instincts and never to trust the police.”
Great. That explains why she didn’t ask for someone’s phone to call the police. Not that the police in Gotham are the best people to go to for a case like Marinette’s, but then again, there’s not really anybody good to go to for a case like hers. 
Vague advice is the best way to get a kid killed. But since Marinette isn’t already dead, it stands to reason that her instincts haven’t failed her yet, and he really does have no clue what to do with her.
He briefly contemplates taking her to Bruce, but strikes the idea down almost instantly. Marinette fits all of the requirements to become a Robin. Tragic backstory, black hair, blue eyes. He’s not going to put another child into Bruce’s hands just so he can ruin their life by not doing his job. Besides, Bruce doesn’t know he’s alive yet, and he wants to keep it that way for now.
“Then what do your instincts tell you to do?”
Does he feel like an idiot for asking a nine year old that? Yes, but what else is he supposed to do? Taking care of kids was never part of the job description when he signed up to be Red Hood. (Then again, it wasn’t like there was a job description to begin with.)
Marinette takes another bite of one of the cookies on her plate. “They tell me to stick close to you.”
Even better. She’s imprinted on him.
@jasonette-july-2k20
1K notes · View notes
winterwolf0916 · 3 years
Text
Quarrel
Jason Todd x Reader
Requested by anon: hi could you write to jason todd x reader that they fight but don't realize their baby is there? Thanks for the reply:) Warning: Language, mentions of divorce, angst, & fluff A/n: Goodness! This is a sweet request and oooo here comes the fluff! *throws a massive cloud* Forgive me with the writing mistakes here 🤧  wrote it at 4 am my dudes. Happy New Years my dears! Word count: 2.6K
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You know Jason is strong. He really is. But there are moments, moments where he can be so reckless in patrol to the point where he could’ve lost his life. It happens so often that you promised yourself to be patient in this. Reminding yourself that he has his family, the Outlaws, and you to help him out in his missions. But last night made your patience snap like a thread. You were worried more than ever about his well being.
What if he doesn’t arrive in the morning?
What if he dies and leaves you and your son? 
What if-
Countless and countless thoughts radiated in your mind causing your body to weigh as more and more doubts formed. The sight of him huffing and puffing as he entered his and your apartment bloodied and beaten. You knew you were going to say something. Anything. You were fine with it at first since the job came with this. But more nights like these compressed your patience like a boot on a bug. 
‘He shouldn’t patrol alone’ you thought. You should go with him to make sure he’s being cautious. But you couldn’t. You needed to take care of your child.
After patching him up and laying in bed in silence back to back, you heard the springs of the bed cry as Jason left the mattress to retrieve something while hissing as if he’s trying to ignore the pain. After a few minutes, you gave up trying to sleep off your uncertainty and decided to talk to him. The conversation went from small suggestions and corrections into bickering and confusion. 
You didn’t mean to overstep boundaries. He didn’t mean to make you worry. But how he hides his pain is what frustrates you. How he would joke about the bullet wound in his shoulder didn’t bother him when playing in the park with Y/c/n. How he would flinch when Y/c/n hugs him after a hard patrol. 
“You know how dangerous it is to go downtown alone!” You raised your voice. “You could’ve died again!” 
“But I didn’t! Why don’t you trust me?!” 
It repeated like this, going back and forth, for a solid 15 minutes. But in the moment, it felt like hours. Yelling and spitting out words that are not even meant. Pointing who’s to blame, cutting each other off, and wanting your haunted opinions to be heard. Caught up in the heated situation that you didn’t realize your 10-year-old witnessing it all in the hallway in his pajamas. 
What's going on here? 
Why are they yelling?
Don’t they love each other anymore?
Are...are they getting a divorce?
He’s seen arguments here and there but it's a different level now. It’s bigger. The picture playing of anger and hatred boiling from his parents. His two favorite people in the world, showing distaste in one another. 
As a child, he doesn’t know what’s going on other than the air filled with loathe by the source of his parents. As a child, he felt the need to hug his parents and ask them about the situation. As a child, he felt his eye sockets sting and his mind not functioning of what was happening in front of him. 
-------
You were making lunch for your son trying to calm yourself from the argument that occurred hours ago. The fight didn’t go so well that you and Jason agreed to give one another space after he drops Y/c/n off at the bus stop. 
Jason left the living room to wake up Y/c/n for breakfast, acting strong from the awful wounds he received this morning. What confused you was the sound of his footsteps quicken.
“Y/c/n?! This isn’t funny!” There was shuffling in the room before Jason returned to the kitchen. “He’s not in his room.”
You both searched the entire apartment from top to bottom before searching the entire building. Finding no trace of your son made you two imagine the worst. The worst-case scenario and the last thing you would ever expect. Y/c/n being kidnapped. 
Quickly changing into your suits and heading to the roof to discuss who is going to check what part of Gotham, you found your son sitting at the edge of the rooftop, his back facing you. As his head turned towards the sound of the door barged open, your heart broke and Jason caught his breath at the sight of your child in tears.
“What the-” He quickly wiped his tears in shock, “Mr. Red Hood and Mrs. Y/H/N? Here on my apartment building?”
“Oh crap uh-Don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here.” Y/C/N added, using the hem of his sleeve to wipe his tears, trying to hide his released emotion and pushing down the temptation to fanboy in front of his favorite heroes. Not knowing, they are his parents behind the masks.
“Hey kid, why are you crying?” Jason asked, taking a couple steps forward while you followed.
“It’s really silly.” He sniffled, not wanting to look back. “My parents fought.”
You and Jason paused in your steps, not believing what came out of his mouth. ‘He saw us?’
“Oh…” 
“I know! Pretty embarrassing to say this to you guys.” 
“Oh no no! It’s not embarrassing at all.” You said.
“It’s ok to tell the truth. I really need it from Gotham’s second-best couple.”
“Hate to ask this, but who’s the first best couple?” Your husband asked. You nudged him, giving the ‘really?’ look.
“My parents of course.” You and Jason melted at the spot from hearing how much your son looked up to his parents’ relationship. “But I guess not, after last night.”
His face fell and lowered his head in defeat after mumbling the last sentence. You and Jason glanced in each other's direction silently making a truce and putting aside your differences before taking a seat next to Y/c/n.
“Is it normal for parents to fight really hard? Please tell me. You guys are my number one from now on.”
“Honey, people argue every day. It helps us to grow as a person and learn about our partner’s troubles and what's important to them...”
“Even if it’s little things or big things or the harsh words we said, it doesn’t matter. We still love each other. We just step on the wrong foot sometimes.” 
“Tell me about it, I remember bucket head over here accidentally left the sink on in our apartment. And guess what happened?”
“What?” Your son’s eyes were filled with curiosity while Jason cringed at the memory.
“It flooded our entire kitchen and I scolded him for an hour before he cleaned everything.”
“How long did it take Mr. Red hood to clean everything?”
“Two hours.” Y/c/n snorted but immediately became serious when he remembered who’s the other vigilante sitting right next to him.
“In my defense, I had to fight off Ra's Al Ghul for two weeks straight.”
“And?”
“Aaand, I wasn’t at total fault here.”
“It would’ve been better to not even open the sink at all!” 
“I was tired, woman!” Then you heard your own son snickering before letting out a burst of warm laughter. The kind of laughter that made you smile while Jason gave a smirk.
“Wow-uh thanks. You guys really sound like my parents.” Jason opened his mouth to say something before you heard a hiss of a vehicle and the rumble of the engine fading in the distance. 
“THE BUS!” You screamed as you jumped and ran towards the corner of the edge, the vehicle traveling away.
Your son’s face went pale at the sight of his transportation turning a corner before disappearing the block. Mostly afraid of his parents giving him a lecture for missing the bus rather than attending class.
“Oh shit.” 
“Language.” Jason stated and pinched Y/C/N’s cheek as punishment for adding another curse word to the jar. 
“Well! It was great knowing you guys! Ah, I would really love an autograph. Especially from you Y/H/N.” 
“Me?”
“My dad has a fat crush on you, but don’t tell him that. He says it’s a secret between us men.” Surprised by the news, you glanced at your husband who then avoided your gaze and set his focus on a far off building, pretending he didn’t hear a thing.
Oh, he’s never going to hear the end of this from you. Your son quickly snatched his backpack that was resting by him and sprinted towards the door. As he opened the door to the stairs and was about to leave, he was lifted from the floor by his backpack, his legs still swinging as if he was running.
“Whoa there.” Jason placed your son down to his feet before gesturing between you two. “Why don’t we drop you off?”
“Really!?” Y/C/N’s eyes glittered with excitement that he’s going to receive the experience of traveling like a vigilante until a realization dawned on the boy. “But wait...I need my parent’s permission for that.”
“Don’t worry. All of the parents in Gotham trust us with their kids.”
“Wait really? You sure they won’t mind?”
“Crystal.”
“Yes! Ah, we gotta hurry. My bus might be a little far from here now.”
“Who said anything about taking you to the bus?”
-----
You and Jason were more than positive to never patrol in broad daylight unless it was an emergency. There are two reasons why. One, anyone can track you easily. Villains and crooks in Gotham don’t rest. Not only that, they have henchmen and machines that can detect vigilante activity which means a higher rate of danger to kidnap or take those who you interact with as hostage. 
Two, the nosy journalists trying to snap a picture and give an odd headline to the Gotham press. It wasn’t anything new. This happens occasionally without the masks. So the Batfamily wasn’t bothered much by it. But it is rather important to not make the headline. Depending on what is put, it would falter the trust and hope that civilians have in the heroes of Gotham. Also, they would interview those who interacted with the vigilantes therefore more problems would complicate. 
That’s when you both gave a conclusion of dropping off your son in an alleyway close by the school. As he was placed down from you, with wobbly legs and hair out of place, it took a load for you from fixing Y/c/n. But as a mother, you couldn’t help it. You bend down to his level and fix his hair and his shirt in place.
“There. All better.” You smiled at your bewildered son before pulling him in for a tight hug. “Have a great day, baby.” 
“You really act like my mom,” you pull away from him, “she’s always picky that I would look nice for school.” You resisted the urge to pinch his cheek from that comment. 
“I am not picky.” You stated with a serious tone and face.
“You are.” You heard your husband say.
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Not.”
“Are too.”
“You’re not helping, Red.” You motioned at your son who is internally debating to join the small argument or leave it between the two of you since you remind him so much of his parents. 
Your husband glanced at your son before winking at him, motioning that his wife is definitely picky. Y/c/n snickered before going silent as your focus landed on him.
“Ok, Y/c/n. Time for you to go to school.” Jason pats Y/c/n’s shoulder 
“But...But I don’t want to go.” He wrapped his arms around yours and Jason's legs.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to face my parents when school is over. I’m really scared. What if they want to split up?”
“That won’t happen.” Jason’s tone was serious now.
“How do you know?” It was now Jason’s turn to crouch down to Y/c/n’s level, similar to what Y/c/n’s dad does.
“I’ll say this fast because you need to leave but if I were your dad, I would be an as-” You cleared your throat indicating to Jason to watch his vocabulary, “-idiot to even divorce your mom. Let alone to think of it. I love your mother so much to the point where I would still love her if she’d turn me into a frog. I would rather die again than to lose my family.”
“Wait, you died before-”
“Ah bap bap. Let me finish.” Y/c/n pouted.
“No fair.” Jason smiled under the helmet.
“I would also lose my precious kid. My partner in crime and a part of me. Even though we fought, big-time, I’d still love you and your mom. Relationships aren’t perfect. And neither are families. They’re rough around the edges but they’re still a part of us and we have our roles in them. And for your parents’ roles, they won’t split. I can assure that.” 
There it goes again. Y/c/n’s eyes expressing his emotion. He wasn’t sad at all. More as if he’s relieved and content for someone to tell him that all is well. Y/c/n immediately wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and hugged the living hell out of him. Jason didn’t hesitate to hug back his son. As the two parted, your husband stood back up in his usual height.
“Now, get in there. You don’t want your teachers waiting.” Jason ruffled your son’s hair before Y/c/n left out of the alley and stepped on the school grounds. 
As Y/c/n looked over his shoulder, he found the couple on a building waving him goodbye. He did the same and disappeared into the building. 
-----
The two of you returned to the apartment. It was silent for the most part since the you both agreed to ‘get some air’ when you found Y/c/n. But none of that occurred when you helped Jason inside through the fire escape. He was slowly stripping from his suit and placing his pajamas on with caution. Another hiss from him caused you to place your mask down and help him pull down his shirt.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.” It took you a second to process the meaning of the words. Did he apologize? Wait- He apologized?
“...What?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk with Bruce about patrol and-”
“No, I should be the one who’s sorry… You… You always worked alone and risked yourself to get missions done. I should’ve trusted you more that you can defend yourself and come home safely. It was my fault.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m just afraid. Afraid...That you’ll die and leave me and Y/c/n alone. Like how you passed away and left your family and I when we were in high school.” His eyes widened at your confession. “I know! I shouldn’t even worry because you’re so much stronger now. But damn you. Damn you, whenever you come home ripping my soul from my body by how you suffer from your injuries. I know we have schedules for patrolling and taking care of Y/c/n but I’ll stop complaining and overreacting-” 
You didn’t expect yourself to be in his arms, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, and your fired up spirit to be calmed by listening to the soothing beating of his heart. What a day. 
“I think we have enough stress for one morning.”
“...Agreed.” 
“I’ll talk with Bruce about patrols. In the meantime… let’s get some rest before Y/c/n comes back from school.”
“Alright…” Jason pulled away and was going to lead you to your shared bedroom before you stopped him. “I also have something else to say.”
“That is?”
“Well...more like an important question.” 
“Ok?”
"How long have you had a crush on me?”
~
412 notes · View notes
miss-choco-chips · 3 years
Text
Bird Watchers
It was something like an open secret in Gotham, that even though all it’s heroes were open to help no matter the situation, each one of them had a special affinity to certain matters.
For example, children from all districts knew to yell for Nightwing if they found themselves lost and scared. Small business owners often painted little Oracle symbols on their doorsteps, to warn away possible thieves with the knowledge that Gotham’s cryptic hacker had their eye on them. Working girls would send a quick prayer to the Red Hood before seeing their seediest clients; and as such, knew who to call for if things took a turn for the worst.
And Red Robin… well. His was a very specific bunch.
---.---
Warnings: depression, suicide attempts, overdose comic-typical violence (discussed, not explicit). Hurt-comfort all the way, baby. There’s also one scene, with the redhead, that I copied from the comics.
(it’s almost 2 am, I wrote half of this in one go, don’t @ me for mistakes. I’ll edit tomorrow. Maybe.)
---.---
The first time he stopped a suicide, he had just turned thirteen. The suit still felt wrong, too loose in all the places where Jason’s bigger presence would have been a better fit. Too small, too brainy, not brash enough, not good enough.
He would never think himself worthy, but he was all Batman had. There were no other candidates, not ones he could have thrown the job at without risking Bruce’s identity, so he’d have to make do.
But even so, he had been gaining a little confidence over the past few months. His training with Shiva, and Dick’s and Bruce’s focus on making him as ready for the streets as humanly possible, had ensured he never encountered a situation where he couldn’t handle himself, or get back up in time to avoid any casualties.
Except for right now.
“Hey! Don’t do it, please!”
Yeah, maybe yelling at the man precariously balanced on the edge of a how many feet tall building wasn’t his wisest moment. He’d berate himself later. Now was freak out time.
Said man stumbled for a second before regaining his footing and turning to look at Tim. He couldn’t be more than forty, with a bit of an overgrown beard and tired eyes. He had something clutched in one hand, tanned and calloused from work, the other over his chest, probably due to the scare of having a bat suddenly appearing behind him.
“R-Robin…”, he gasped, shook out of whatever reverie he was going through for a second. “W-what… I mean, why are you…?”
‘Okay, Tim, breath. Can’t call B, he’ll notice, get startled and jump. Can I catch him if he does? My grappling hook is made to withstand more than my weight, but if I can’t handle the strain of swinging us both to safety…’
He couldn't risk it.
“Good evening, Mr…?”
Surprise and good manners made the man automatically answer, “Ed. Ed Harrinson.”
Encouraged, Tim took a tiny teeny step forward. Ed’s entire body shock and he leaned backwards. Tim froze, fear keeping his breathing and heartbeat hostages for the time being, stopping the first and kick starting the second.
“Mr Harrinson, I’d like to ask you to step away from the edge? I’ll call an ambulance for you, and…”
“No!”, the man screamed, suddenly over his surprise, a look of determination trying to masquerade his obvious exhaustion. “If you call an’one, I’ll jump.”
Tim wisely kept the ‘you were gonna do it anyway’ to himself. He nodded slowly, hands emerging from the confines of his cape to show Mr Harrinson the lack of a communication device.
“I won’t, then, but may I come closer? Please?”
It was on the last word, high pitched and wavering, that the man cracked. With wary demeanor, he waved him over, pointing to a patch of rooftop a little far but close enough for Tim to feel comfortable- or as comfortable as he’d get, in these circumstances.
As he approached, he could feel the man analyzing him. The little gasp when he stood by his side didn’t go unnoticed.
“You are… smaller than I imag’ned. Too small for a bat. My boy’s taller than you” he mused, likely to himself, but Tim grasped onto that bit of information and clutched at it with both hands, desperately.
“I’m short compared to my peers, so maybe I’m the same age as your son. How old is he?”, he asked, in his most conversational tone. Fear still had a grasp over both his lungs and heart.
Something in the man’s face shifted.
“He… he just turned fifteen.” Older than Tim, then. Ed continued, “He’s… ”, in a second, the sadness was replaced by pride, “he’s grown up p’tty well, if I say so m’self. A fine young man, that kid. He’ll go places.”
For a beat, Tim tried to imagine his own dad here. As much as he’d hate to see Jack in Mr Harrinson’s place, he couldn't help but wonder if he’d be talking about him the same way Ed spoke about his son.
He… didn’t think so. If on the verge of death, thoughts about his son would probably be the farthest from his dad’s mind.
“You sound like you love him very much. He’s a lucky guy” he said sincerely, a tendril of hopefulness still twisted around his stomach. His hands weren’t shaking any longer, finding solace in the fact that the man in front of him didn’t look like he was about to jump right that second.
Mr Harrinson’s face fell.
“Got served an’ unlucky hand, with an old man like me”, his eyes went back to the abyss, to the empty, poor litten streets below them. “Go ‘way, kid. Leave m’ be. Notta business what I do. Gotta do this f’r my kid.”
Fear came back, full force.
“I- Sorry, but I can’t help but think about your son”, he blurted out, the only bit of information he had about the man was his only tendril of hope. “Someone who loves his child as much as you seem to must be a good father. A father that… would be missed dearly, if lost so young.”
Mr Harrinson looked even more devastated. Tim was doing this all wrong, wasn’t he?
“There’s no other way t’ keep’im safe!'' he yelled, and for a minute Tim thought he had decided to jump then and there. Instead, he dropped to his knees, hands to his head, paper still clutched in one fist. “They’ll get to him if I don’t! Once I’m dead, they’ll just leave’im alone!”
Tim crouched next to him, tentative.
“Who is ‘they’, sir? Maybe I could help…”
Ed was already shaking his head.
“Nay, they said not to go to the bats. Kill my boy, they will, if I do. Seen them offing others for less, so I believe them.”
“Ah, but I’m too short to be a bat, am I not?” he smiled, wobbly at best but sincere. “Besides, who’s gonna tell them you spoke to me? I”, he gestured to his mask, “know how to keep a secret.”
He considered for a beat, before tired shoulders fell, defeated. He offered the slip of paper towards him, unseeing eyes on the street below.
Robin read the note carefully, noting the sloppy penmanship and cheap paper as well as the message itself.
“Mr Harrinson…”
“I know”, he whispered, “I know working for the Black Mask wasn’t my best idea. But m’boy needed to eat, and the landlord was gettin’ impatient. And now, for whatever reason, boss wants me dead. And if I make ‘im dirty his own hands, he’ll dirty ‘em twice and send me with my son for company to the other side. Felix is too young, and he’s good. Can’t let ‘im pay f’ his old man m’stakes, ya hear me?”
Tim thought his words over carefully.
“Mr Harrinson… I don’t think this comes from Black Mask himself”, for one, Blackie wasn’t one to avoid blood on his gloves, nor to send such a shitty note. The man lived for the drama, like most A-listers did, and he’d never forgo the aesthetic of an expensive peachment and beautifully worded threat. Also, if he wanted this man gone, he would have put a bullet in his head the second he clocked in; and if it were revenge he was after, he wouldn't have gotten a warning note but his son’s head sent to him instead.
He folded the paper and put it into one of his multiple pockets, free hand going to the man’s shoulder.
“I know Black Mask’s M.O, mister, and this is not it”, no need to spook him further by describing what it was, though. “Probably just a colleague who wanted your position, or has a grudge for whatever reason. And that, I can help you with. If you work with me on this one, we can both make sure Felix has his Dad making breakfast for him tomorrow morning, and all the days after that. After all”, he smiled, no longer uncertain now that he had firm ground to work with, “your son is going places, and he’ll have to be well fed to reach them, right?”
Mr Harrinson’s smile must have had magical properties, Tim thought. There was no other explanation for the way it returned his breath back to his body.
---.----
The next time he saw a jumper, a few months later, he was slightly more ready for it. Bruce had congratulated him on his work with Mr Harrinson, and the subsequent raid they could make on one of Black Mask’s warehouses thanks to the man’s information, but Tim hadn’t been satisfied until he had read every single mission report on the batcomputer about attempted suicides. And succeed ones, too. Need to know what went well and what didn’t, after all.
So when he saw the fifty-something woman crying on top of a tower in City Hall District, he didn’t almost-crash in his attempt to get there in time. He landed softly, making just enough noise to let her know she wasn’t alone, but careful to not startle her.
“It’s a little cold up here, Lady. If you’d like, I can walk you home?”, he tries for cheeky, despite the cold fear nesting in his stomach like a grumpy, spiteful bird.
The woman, sitting by the edge, turned her head to look at him. The movement called attention to her long, strawberry blonde hair, neatly braided, and her pretty diamond earrings. The face under her perfect make up was gaunt and pale, tear tracks cleaning paths of skin to his trained eye.
Despite him interrupting what probably were very private thoughts, she smiled at his approach, kind and polite. It didn’t reach her eyes, but the intent to put him at ease was generous enough.
“I may be a lady, but any adult worth their salt would insist on walking the young child home, instead of the opposite. Besides”, she patted the rooftop under her,” I live here, so it’s not a long walk at all.”
Tim stepped closer, carefully.
“May I sit?”
“I could use the company for a bit”, she accepted, head turning back to the city below.
They sat there for a few minutes in silence, before Tim’s soft voice broke it again.
“Is there anything I can do to help convince you not to do it? Please?”
The lady smiled. “You are a very sweet boy.”
“That’s… not an answer. Can I at least know why?”
“Won’t it torment you, in the future, if we speak now?”, she asked a question of her own, turning to face him again. Despite her words, there was nothing but kindness in those deep green eyes. “If you don’t know me, I’m just another one who jumped. If we talk, I’m afraid I might stay with you long after I’m gone. You are too young for that kind of weight.”
Tim swallowed. 
“That’s easily solved, Miss;”, Dick’s rule of thumb; if unsure, always call a lady Miss before Mrs “don’t do it.”
She spared him a long, meaningful look, and he slumped over.
“Not my best, I know, but I’m kinda freaking out now?” She wasn’t like Mr Harrinson, no motive he could see, no strand to pull and unravel her pain. “Please, just… why?”
She patted one of the hands gripping his own knee. His other hand rushed over hers, sandwiching her cold, slim fingers between his gloved palms.
“There’s nothing left for me. I have a nice job, live in a pretty side of town, have friends, and still… it feels so empty. So… Meaningless. Why even bother?”
Tim chewed on her words silently. He was way out of his depth. A tangible, physical problem? He could solve those, no biggie.
Depression, though… that was a different giant to tackle. Was he even prepared enough to?
A strong gust of wind made the lady with braided hair shiver. Without thought, Tim unclasped his cape and draped it over her slim shoulders.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, head tilted like a curious woodland animal. Tim felt strongly protective of her, of this kind, sweet lady, who said she had it all, except the one thing that mattered to her.
“I’m used to it”, he shrugged. “This suit is very warm, but cold air often trickles down from the neckline and… well. Gigs of the job and all that.”
The lady tutted, frowning for the first time since Tim arrived.
“That won’t do, young man. You need a scarf. The nights will only get colder from now on.”
He shrugged again.
“I just… don’t have the time to buy one. And I had one, but… There’s these kids who often hang out by the park, and they were so cold, I just couldn't swing by and ignore them. So I gave them my scarf to share between them. I’m just kinda bummed that I don’t have more to make sure they all stay warm.”
The braided haired lady hummed for a second.
“Well… I knit”, she started, carefully. “I don’t have children or grandchildren to give my final products to, so they’ll go to waste after I’m gone. If you’d take them out of my hands, you’ll do me a favor.” 
Tim wanted to say no, unwilling to make this any easier for her, but the chance of getting her away from the edge was enough to quell his voice.
She went and came back within minutes, a big cardboard box balanced over her shaky arms. He rose to help her, meeting the woman halfway through the roof, a good distance away from the abyss.
“This red one would look good with your suit… oh, and the green one, to keep with the theme! Or maybe the yellow one… Shame pink would be such a bad fit for your colors, because that wool is the best I worked with…”
Tim’s hand carefully took said carf out and looked it over. There were about six others in the box.
“I could take this to those kids I mentioned before… It’d still not be enough for all, but more to share between them means less cold.”
She hummed again, looking at the unfinished projects on the bottom of the box.
“If… If you give me a few days…” she muttered. “I mean, I’m in no rush”, a hand vaguely gestured towards the rooftop’s edge. “I could spare a few days finishing those, and you could take them to these kids you spoke about… and maybe, I can help make a few children less cold with this silly hobby of mine.”
Elated beyond words, Tim nodded vigorously, waxing poetry about her work and about just how excited little Ellie would be with this soft, pretty pink scarf.
His patrol route could use a few detours, after all, if that meant keeping Braided Hair Lady away from her roof.
---.----
He was just returning from a late supply run when he bumped into The Cats.
It was in an alleyway, a block off from Mrs Eloise Denvarow (formerly known as Braided Hair Lady). The older woman had caved after three months knowing each other, of Tim passing by her apartment once every other night to pick up her baked goods or knitted masterpieces, to distribute between street kids and working girls, and told him her name. It was said in passing (“Stop with that ‘Lady’ thing, honey. It’s Eloise”), as if lacking importance, when in reality it meant the world to him. Sure, he’d already known, having run a background check on her the minute he came back to the cave after stopping her from jumping, but there was that implicit vow between them, that she wouldn't tell him her name and jump, wouldn’t make him carry its weight on his shoulders forever, so it was… it was a promise, on her end, a reassurance, and Tim wasn’t even embarrassed that he cried in her arms like a baby for ten minutes.
So here he was, a month after that, still riding that high, when the desperate call from below caught his attention.
There were two teens on the dirty ground, nested among cracked bottles and old newspapers. The girl was lying in the boy’s arms, with him screaming for help.
“Robin! Thank fuck!”, he almost sobs, arms visibly tightening around the girl. Tim wants to ask how he knew to call for him, and if the proximity to Mrs Denvarow’s place was luck or not.
But it wasn’t the time to ask.
The girl was pale, which only highlighted the bruises on her face. Someone with a big fist punched her. It doesn't seem likely, considering just how distraught the other kid is, but he checks his hands just in case; fortunately, too small for that kind of damage.
She’s also breathing erratically and, when he puts a gloved hand to her neck, he realizes just how crazy her pulse is. 
Fear Toxin? Except Scarecrow is still in Arkham as far as he knows, and even if he had gotten away recently, he needs time to develop his precious chemicals. Joker’s Venom and Mad’s Hatter drugs don’t have quite this results, and Ivy doesn’t usually attack street girls just for kicks; they are also too far from her usual turf for her to be a viable suspect.
So, that leaves very few choices.
“Overdose?”, he ventures a guess, hand already fumbling through the pockets on his belt.
The other boy sobs harder, nodding while looking down at the girl in his arms. Tim gently takes the girl from him to position her straighter, to help her down the vial he finally found in his belt. It was supposed to help flush out any chemical in a few minutes, tops; they usually used it when a new type of Crazy Criminal Drug made its way to the streets and they didn’t have the time to properly prepare an antidote. It was strong, and vicious in its path to devoid the body of any and all external agents, which was why it wasn’t a preferred method; who’s to say the civilian in need of a flush isn’t in some important medicine? The Big Flush, as Dick calls it, lacked any kind of finesse or discrimination.
But it was their best shot right now, so there goes nothing. 
There’s silence while they watch the girl’s progress. He doesn’t bother asking if he called for an ambulance; they are obviously minors, probably homeless, and even if the Wayne Foundation takes care of children’s hospital fees, they’d avoid it to keep themselves out of the foster system.
But then, the kid kept talking.
“I… I found her near Grant Park. I… I didn’t know what to do, so I dragged her here. She/” and then he breaks again, hands grasping one of hers, as if letting go meant he was giving up on her and he couldn't bear it.
“Grant Park is only five blocks away,” Tim thinks out loud, mind already a mile away “and Moench’s Row illicit night clinic is about the same distance from there as this place. Why did you bring her here?”
“She… Alley… Oh, her name’s Allison, by the way. And I’m Thomas. Tom.” Introductions, miraculously, seem to do the trick here and calm him down. “Nice to meetcha.”
Tim’s not deterred by his toothy grin, but he has to admit he’s kinda cute. Like, stray cat cute.
Huh. Alley, Tom, cat… Yeah, that checks.
“What happened with Allison?” he presses softly, one arm still keeping Alley up and against his chest, the other hand on her pulse point, taking note of the way the heartbeat seems to be stabilizing. The puking fest was gonna start soon.
“She… It was on purpose.” Tom confesses, eyes going clouded for a while. “She tries to not be home, yknow? I met her in kindergarten, and even then she’d try to hide behind the teacher’s desk in hopes they’d forget about her and close the building with her inside. Anyway, we pretty much live on the streets these days, and Alley… she’s very depressed. I convinced her to see someone a while ago, even stol/ I mean, earned the money for it myself”, he’s quick to correct, eyes glancing up to see if he was smooth enough to cover it; which he wasn’t, but Tim was in favor of letting that small one go, “and they gave her a prescription for antidepressants. She’s been kicking it down the road, but she’s gotten a lot worse and I wouldn't lay off her case about it, so she sneaked back home to get some money from her folks to pay for it.”
By the way the kid looks at her bruised face with unmeasurable guilt, Tim knows she didn’t go unnoticed.
“And… I don’t know. We were supposed to meet up by the Commerce Street Highway, but she was late, so I walked around for a bit and… I saw her there, on a bench. She was/ she was still conscious then, and she told me… she said ‘these aren’t what the doc gave me, but they took the pain away all the same’.” Again, Tom chokes on his own emotions. If he had any free hands, he’d try to put one on his shoulder for comfort. “I don’t even know what she took, or where did she get it from!”
Tim has heard whispers of loan sharks and drug dealres camping toghter by the Fashion Distric, just north of Grant Park, so he can make an informed guess as to how that happened. Also, he now knows what he’ll do the rest of the night, once these kids are safe.
When Tom has gotten a grasp of himself, he pushes again.
“So, why did you bring her here?”
He shrugs, a bit abashed.
“Well… I mean, everyone knows about how Mrs Denvarow is the one giving clothes and food away, and that you help her distribute it. Well, not everyone, but… you know, the street kids. We flagged her building with a yellow skull and everything.”
A yellow skull grafitti, Tim’s mind translates, is the street equivalent of a ‘don’t fuck with this place’ sing. A sort of protective sigil. He wonders how he missed it.
“And… This is kind of your thing, right? So I figured you’d be better prepared to deal with it than some overworked clinic that might even not have enough free equipment to help us. Good think I did, too” he gestures at his friend, whose face is now looking flushed; a sign both of growing health, and of the upcoming puke. Tim’s quick to turn her so her back is to his chest, head tilted down just in case.
As if rehearsed, Alley chose that exact second to empty the contents of her now flushed stomach. Tim would need a sample of that, to catch the responsible dealer.
Tom held her hair away from her face while Tim kept her steady, and she blinked bearily at them after it was done, still not completely lucid but a world away from the girl she was ten minutes ago.
“She’ll still need a hospital.'' Tim informs Tom sternly. The boy had taken his friend in his arms again, softly rubbing her back to help with the uncomfortable ache leftover after puking your guts out. “The Moench’s Row clinic should be able to help with any side effect, but she’s safe for now.”
He nods, thanks Tim again and again and politely refuses his help to take her to the clinic. They part ways, both parties probably thinking this would be the last time they saw each other.
Still, their situation sticks with Tim during the rest of his patrol, and he decides to stop by the clinic, just to check on them. His knuckles still ache from the absolute beating he delivered to the ones who gave Alley the money and sold her the drugs, so he’s in better spirits and hopes to spread it to the kids.
Alley is awake when he visits, and her shy, little smile is enough for the rage inside of Tim to die down. The bad guys dealt with, the civilians safe, everything in its proper place.
He sleeps a bit better that night.
---.----
He almost doesn’t see him. 
Actually, he probably wouldn't have, deeply lost into his own head, had the guy been anything other than a redhead. That exact shade of  orangy-brown auburn, that he would have to pick up from his workbench at Titan’s tower after Bart had decided to ‘keep him company’ during his all-nighters. 
It was ironic, how now he would give anything in the world to have those same strands of hair fucking up his experiments, if only for the impish, ‘please-don’t-kill-me-I’m-an-angel’ smile he would receive in exchange.
“Hey”, he greets, landing softly at the man’s right, sitting a few feet away from him, too tired to even stand up on common ground. “What’s happening?”
He shouldn’t be doing this. He really, really shouldn’t. His own mental health was less than stellar, and even thinking about it made him feel worse. He didn’t deserve to feel bad, not when civilians were in the hospital after his latest fuck up, Cass was missing, Cassie barely hanging in there, the family a mess with Damian’s lovely introduction, and… well. Every other person he knew…
Point being, there must be someone else, in a better inner place, that could speak to this guy. But since no one seemed to be patrolling this route, Tim could only hope to stall him long enough for a more capable vigilante to show up.
The guy looks startled, then angry. He has green eyes, he notices, under the glasses. Not sure why that sticks to him.
“What are you doing here? You’re not going to try to stop me, are you? You’re not going to swing down and catch me in mid air or something, are you?”
He seems defensive, but Tim notices a bit of hesitancy. He has worked with less.
(He wishes he had more energy to do more with what little he has)
“No. If I did, what’s to stop you from doing it again later, or tomorrow? I can’t be with you every second.  If you want to do this, you are going to, no matter how much I don’t want you to. And I don’t want you to, just so we are clear.”
The guy still looks suspicious, but he hasn’t taken that last step forward, so… a win?
“I just needed to sit down for a minute. ‘been thinking about all the ways I’ve screwed up lately, and…”
Auburn-hair deflates a little, turning away from Tim to examine the night sky. “Well, that makes two of us.”
The bat signal lights up the night. His newfound companion looks at it, then him. “Do you need to get that?”
“Nah. Batman will, and if he needs help he’ll call me.” Tim shrugs. He needs a coffee-power-up. He needs to sleep. He needs for his loved ones to not be dead.
He needs to see if there’s anything he can do for this guy.
“So, do you want to tell me why you’re doing this? So someone can go to your family and friends to let them know?”
After all, if it was him who did it (and… wasn’t that food for thought?), he’d like Bruce and Dick to know why. To not… to not blame themselves.
Redhead looks annoyed again. Uh. A short fuse, this one.
“Don’t try any psychology, or try to make me feel guilty about hurting anyone… this isn't about anyone but me.”
He shouldn’t say it, but… “That’s pretty naive,  but whatever. Tell me anyway.” He smirks a bit, then “Unless you’re in a hurry or something.”
He hears the guy (he really should ask his name) as he tells his story. A cold, clinical part of his mind recognizes the symptoms described almost unconsciously by the guy as depression. He would know, after all. The other part of him, the part that made him Robin, that made him human, discarded the label; there was much more to this guy than his illness, and he would treat him like it.
“So here I am,” he finishes, now sitting side by side with Tim, both their legs hanging above the bustling city. “Now’s when you tell me how stupid this is. That other people have much bigger problems, there’s hunger and war, and I’m weak because my problems are nothing next to stuff like that.”
Tim thinks of a father, desperately thinking his death would save his son’s life, when in fact it would have only made it worse. He thinks of a woman, so full of love and warmth, looking into the abyss and feeling empty inside. He thinks of a couple of kids, one hanging to life with nails and teeth, the other hanging to her just as fiercely.
He thinks about himself. About looking at a future version of himself, hating what he sees, and deciding to drown the bud before it can even flower. He thinks of sickly green water, of cloning equipment in a laboratory, of a phone falling to the ground after delivering him with more bad news.
He’s still in a bad place, still probably not the most capable person to be doing this, but a part of him is sure this is the right answer. The only answer.
“No. Your problems are worse than anyone else’s, because they are yours. I’ve... felt bad like you have, and some pretty bad things have happened to me.”
Red hair looks as tired as Tim feels, so it’s a surprise that he has enough energy to glance at him worriedly, hand stretching a bit in his direction in a half-formed attempt to comfort.
“You guys make it look so easy, swinging around, having fun… Things get bad for you, too?”
Tim looks down, and smiles. It’s a sad, bitter thing. He thinks about parents lost before ever connecting to them, about a girlfriend going away, a sister lost to the madness of their lives, about two best friends gone, one even dying in his arms. 
He gives no details. Doesn’t talk about it all, just shares a little bit of himself. It’s only fair, after hearing about this guy’s demons. Misery loves company, doesn’t it?
“So what do you do? How do you deal with it?” the guy asks when he’s done, looking at Tim by the corner of his not-very-dry eyes.
Tim forces himself to remember. “One of the things I’ve learned is that it gets bad for everyone sometimes, Superman, Batman… everyone. I remember that I’m not alone, that things do get better. Sometimes on their own, most times when you work at them. And when I have trouble remembering those things, I find people to talk to.”
Most of those were dead, but Tim is hit with the epiphany that not all of them are. He still has people. He still…
“And you’ve got people like that? That you can talk to?” asks the guy, tone both worried and hopeful. Tim stands up, does his best to look calm.
“Yeah. Your folks, and old friend, even a trained counselor you’ve never met before… someone who has a totally different perspective because they’re not as close to your problems as you are. Maybe they give you advice, and that’s great… or maybe they just listen. Sometimes, that’s all you need. Anyway, that’s how I deal with it when things suck. And it works. Want to come down from there and give it a try?”
The guy gets back to his feet, as Tim watches from behind. Having been in this situation before, the fear grabbing a hold of him isn’t new, but it's different. He thinks he's too worn down. It takes the edge off of any emotion. 
Except hope. Hope still hurts like a sharp knife when it’s snatched away. He prays it won’t be, right now.
Green eyes (Jason- that’s who they reminded him of) look down, deep in thought. Then he turns, smiles at Tim. There’s hope in him too.
“Yeah, why not?”
They get down together. He gives him a few numbers and they have breakfast together. The guy promises to call his English teacher, at least. Tim promises himself to call his brother.
At least, he still has Dick.
---.----
He’s been putting off doing his rounds since he came back, he knows. But…
It changed him, a bit. Going around the world, dealing with his grief while staying on his toes, ready to break down one second and having to field off attacks from all sides the next, with the Demon’s honeyed whispers echoing in his ear and mind. 
He’ll never tell anyone, just how tempting it had been. How much he had wanted to reach for that offered hand. To lay his head on someone’s shoulder and let the responsibility bleed from his.
Tim will never tell anyone, but he’ll always know. And it’ll always make him hate himself a little bit more.
So, he’s different now. And he’s scared- that the people he gave hope to, that he talked with, that he could never stop thinking about, even halfway across the world- that they won’t like this new, worn down him.
That Mr Harrinson the Good Father, Braided Hair Lady and her sweaters, the inseparable Stray Cats, the girl with the bright yellow cardigan, the kid with the scarred wrists, the woman with beautiful star-like freckles that she’ll hopefully pass on to her baby, the gentle giant man with calloused hands, the petite but fierce young teen with defiant eyes and dead name, the soft spoken girl with the loudest laugh, auburn-haired boy and his hopeful and sympathetic green eyes… and so, so many more. They all knew him, maybe not at his best, but certainly better than now. The boy that kept them from jumping had been a bright, magical Robin. The teen that came back to their city was dark, weary Red Robin. It felt kinda like he had cheated them, returning this broken version of himself to their doorsteps.
But he had to go check on all of them. Even if Cass (and it was such a relief, that even after he lost everything else, the return of his sister could at least be a speck of light in the mist of misery surrounding him) had promised to do so, there were so many of them… and she couldn't possibly remember everyone, all the time. And if anyone had fallen through the gaps… if anyone had stood on a rooftop, waiting for their Robin to save them, only to think ‘nobody cares’ as he didn’t show up…
Tim gets sick only thinking about it. If it did happen, then he needs to know. He has to carry their names with him, that’s the least he can do for failing them.
So he’ll go check on them… anytime now. Soon. The moment he gathers enough energy to climb back to his feet and get his grapple hook out.
...The city looks full of life, beneath him. Like it feels the return of its Knight. The end of the internal quarrel among it’s vigilantes, that almost tore it all apart. The relief in Nightwing, the hesitant peace in Red Hood, the mellowing of Robin.
(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the worst ways)
Maybe it also feels Red Robin’s emptiness. Maybe that’s why it's so lively down there, like the ground is calling to him, just as it did when Ra’s broke the window with his body.
He thinks... he won’t have to check on anyone, if he jumps. And that way, there will be no name to carry with him to his grave.
“Robin!”
“Stop!”
“Don’t do it, please!”
He startles. Hadn’t even noticed when he got to his feet, nor that one of them was hanging over the abyss. The fact that he wasn’t alone on that rooftop any longer hadn’t even breached his usually perfect spatial awareness.
They didn’t call for him, but the voices sounded distraught, they were close, and he was a former Robin, so he turned around, tired, but with obedience and service too ingrained in him to consider denying help to whoever it was.
It turned out, he wouldn't need to go make his rounds any longer. His rounds had come to him.
There were… too many people on this roof. It was way too crowded.
“Robin!”
It was one voice now, not a mixture of them, so he could identify the one yelling his former alias. Allison broke from the mob of people (and there were more still, filling in from the open rooftop door, like a never-ending stream…) to run to him, looking like she might have just jumped into his arms, if not for Tom clutching her hoodie to stop her a few feet from him. Good move, considering he was still balancing precariously on the edge.
“Alleycat?” he whispered, a little blown. She looked so different (magenta looked amazing on the tips of her hair, and she totally pulled off that lip piercing), but he’d recognize those eyes anywhere. He’d been so relieved, when she first opened them after that dangerous overdose.
“We were so fucking worried, dude”, came from Tomcat just behind her, still gripping her hoodie (still keeping her safe; some things never change).
“I…”
“Where were you?” Maddie, not longer yellow but still wearing a cute cardigan, stepped up too.
“I’m… I’m not Robin”, he blurts out. They… knew it was him?  It… like, obviously there was a new Robin, Damian was (still, but probably not for much longer) smaller than him, but to immediately know that he was…
“Yeah, no shit. I’d know that long hair and noodle limbs of yours anywhere, kid. Known you too long to be fooled. And the new kid’s really trigger happy with that lon’nife of his... You’re still the Robin I prefer, and fuck if I understand the name passing you heroes do” Mr Harrinson spoke from the back of the crowd, one hand clutching his kid’s shoulder, the other arm around…
“Braided Hair Lady?”
Eloise smiles at him, soft and warm as ever, a little shy when his eyes go to the arm hugging her close and back to her. He recognizes some of her handmade scarfs around the necks of plenty of people on the roof. 
“I… wasn’t aware you all knew each other.”
A petite young teen steps forward, walking until they were shoulder-to-shoulder with the Strays.
“Most of us met through the app, and then introduced the others. There’s more, of course, but not everyone could meet here. Samantha’s baby was born just two months ago, so she chose to stay home, but we promised her pictures, so you’ll have to say cheese soon birdboy. Also, I found my name. I’m Cal.”
Allison’s smile broadened and she sneaked an arm around Cal’s waist.
“They are the new Straycat. Calico cat’s are the cutest shit ever, aren’t they?”
Well… Having someone as badass as Cal watching Tom and Alley’s back would sure make Tim feel a lot better about both kids being out in the streets. 
Were they still on the streets? He’d need to find out and fix that, soon.
Then it hit him. “What app?”
Auburn-hair smiled from his place, at the front of the crowd just behind the Cats.
“Felix over there,” he pointed over his shoulder at Mr Harrinson’s son, who smiled shyly at Tim, eyes shining in gratitude and admiration like they always did when Tim did his rounds and checked on his dad, “defended you in a GothamHeroes forum once. Some bratty douchebag was complaining about you landing over his car or something and this kid went for his fucking troath.”
“I was in that chat too,” spoke Tom, smiling a little too savagely for a kid that sweet. “He tore the idiot to shreds, speaking about how you saved his dad’s life and took it upon yourself to make sure he was still okay even weeks after you met. I mentioned how you saved Alley and Mrs Denvarow, we exchanged numbers… then we met Cal during one of our rounds handing out Mrs D’s scarfs and food. They were weary of everyone else, but trusted us because they heard you talk about the clothes and baked goods... And Cal’s friend Gina worked with Samantha on the streets and told them about her story...”
“Soon, it seemed like people personally saved by you were just… popping out of the snow like daisies” Blair laughed, and it was still the loudest, brightest noise. The night seemed a little clearer, the air a little fresher for it. “Felix made his own private chat and added us, and we added everyone else we knew… The word went around about it, and more and more people joined in…”
“It’s really a wonder how you had any time to fight crime, seeing how often you were apparently comforting jumpers on the roofs” Ailbert, still as gigantic and gentle as always, raised a hand from the middle of the group. He had a little girl on his shoulders, probably the baby niece he had taken in after his sister’s death. 
“Then the new kid appeared and Gotham went to hell on a basket, and no one saw you around any longer”, Elijah, wrists no more scarred than the last time he saw him, his arm tangled with Maddie’s, went on. “We were… well, we were a bit confused.”
“Speak for yourself, Cal jumped Red Hood one night, held him at knife point and demanded to know what the fuck happened to our Robin. We were like, zero chill.”
“Sorry, they did what?” Tim was definitely in the twilight zone now. 
“No thoughts, head empty, only murder”
...Tim needed to give Jason a quick call. Also sign Cal up for anger management. And probably, judging by the way both Alley and Tom were looking at them, get one of the adults to give them the talk.
Mrs Eloise smiled at him, and like always it served to calm his nerves. That woman was a different kind of magic than Alfred, but magic indeed. “Anyway, dear, what matters is that we were worried about you. And then this incredible young man, Aaron,” she waved at him, and he winked one of his green eyes in response, “suggested we kept in closer contact with one another, so anyone who spotted you could inform the others.”
Aaron shrugged, his auburn mane of hair bobbing with the movement. “It just seemed like it’d be easier to have an alarm set up, since messaging everyone would take so long… and then someone suggested making a map of Gotham so we could have clearer routes for the kids handing out Mrs Denvarow’s stuff… and someone wanted a shared blackboard to write theories on where the fuck you were with others… and a few demanded a space to share photos, possible sightings or old selfies with you… It kinda spiralled and I thought it’d be less of a chaotic mess if I made an app that could do all of that, instead of all of us using multiple apps for the different fixtures everyone asked for… Since this is Gotham, we also added some Rouge Alarm for whenever a criminal was set loose. It helped keep us safe, and if we knew when crime was happening, we could pay attention to which heroes answered the call…”
“And then, you fought that firefly guy the other day”, Felix said, still by his dad’s side, still looking as awed as ever when looking at tim. “I was in the crowd, and I recognized you within a minute.”
“I don’t really understand technology that well, and the group chat was such a mess that day” Ailbert lamented, but he was still smiling. They all were.
That hit Tim then, hard. 
They all looked so happy to see him. To have him back. They had been waiting for him to be back, banded together to make sure they’d all know when he did.
“You looked so sad the last time we saw you” Blair added softly, sadly. “And… when you saved Aaron, you told him about such sad things…”
Elijah winced “And I heard the Midnighter fell from Wayne Tower a few weeks ago, but then he was never seen around again, and your suit looks kinda similar, so that was probably really you… and, that fall…”
“We were very worried” repeated Eloise, but her eyes didn’t lose their warmth. “But you’re back now, and we can keep track of you and each other now, so it’s all good. It’s wonderful to have you back, love.”
This was an out of body experience.
Something must have shown on his face, because Cal snorted.
“We adore you, you dumbass. You are our hero.”
Alley smiled. “You are our Robin.”
Tim fell into her arms, and away from the roof’s edge. The rest of the crowd was upon them in seconds, all eager to pat his back or joke about the cowl hiding his hair from their hands.
He met eyes with Aaron, over Alley’s shoulder. He looked like the hope Tim had helped plant in his heart all those months ago had flowered, and the petals filled his heart.
(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the best ways)
“You should download the app too, so you always have someone to talk to. Look it up. It’s called BirdWatchers, because we’ll always look up and out for you. Because when we wanted to jump, you lended us your wings to fly instead.”
It was like this fucker wanted Tim to cry.
“Welcome home, Red Robin.”
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wordsfromthesol · 3 years
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Avengers or Justice League (1/2)
Author: @wordsfromthesol​ Taglist: @zphilophobiaz @malfoys-demigod  @pricetagofficial @anousiemay​ Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Word Count: 1.2k A/N: So Imma change it slightly from the request, as the Avengers is still going to be a separate team from the Justice League. Also sorry if some of my marvel lore is off…I was told as long as Uncle Ben stays dead then I'm good 😂 Also I got my new computer, yay!
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Part Two
You never understood the petty rivalry between the Avengers and the Justice League. I mean in reality you were all on the same team, right? Their last squabble is why you decided to spend some time off world. There were other planets that needed saving and the Green Lantern Corps always welcomed your help. It had been a few years before you decided to make your way back to Earth…and really it was just for the food. You expected some of the tension to be relieved, after all these were adults…some of them centuries old. But no, it seemed as if nothing had really changed. So you spent your time avoiding heroes and vigilantes alike. Feigning the reason for your visit was a vacation to see your family. You just hoped no one dug into your past too closely, as all of your family had passed a decade ago.
Sitting on a rooftop adjacent to your favorite restaurant, you munched on their signature dish. The peace and quiet was only momentary.
"So vacation, huh?" You heard the gravelly voice echo from behind you. Sighing you turned around, surprised by the person standing before you.
"Well I was expecting a bat…just not this one."
"Bats called bullshit on your 'visiting family' before the words even left your mouth. But he figured I'd have better luck talking to you…"
"Hmm mm. You're Red Hood, right? From what I heard you're the last one taking orders from the big bad bat." The vigilante just shrugged as he walked over and sat next to you.
"I promised a certain birdie that I'd make an effort." You furrowed your brows, knowing there had to be more to the story.
"Alright and it got me off of patrol with a certain annoying wanna be father figure."
"And the truth comes out!" You offered him some of your food before adding, "Don't expect me to get involved in this barbaric superhero civil war."
"Oh I knew this was a lost cause."
You looked at him, confused. "Then why'd you even come?"
"Always wanted to meet a legend." Before you could ask him what he meant, he lunged himself forward and plummeted towards the ground. You knew better than to go after him.
"I wonder if Bruce teaches all of his proteges how to be dramatic or if it just comes naturally." You chuckled to yourself as you finished the meal you'd be dreaming of for years.
**
It had only been a few days since your encounter with Red Hood before you heard a knock on your door. You were shocked to see him in civilian clothing pounding against the metal.
"Y/N I know you're in there and I know you can see me. Please open up."
You let out an exasperated sigh before swinging the door open and gesturing him inside. "Well, what is it?"
"It's Bruce. He's missing."
"Bruce?" You feigned innocence, hoping it would get you out of helping. After all this was obviously just another one of Batman's ploys to get you to join the Justice League.
"Dick already told me you know. So that's not going to work."
"Dammit…" you mumbled under your breath, still loud enough for Jason to hear you. "Alright. He's 'missing'. Where do we start?"
"You start by coming with me to the Manor." His foppish aplomb was charming, yet annoying.
"Fine. I'll meet you there." Before he could muster a response, you took off through the open window not daring to look back.
**
You sauntered into the cave as if it was an every day occurrence. "So Dick. He's actually missing? Because I swear if this is some…" Your sentence was curtailed by his response.  
"We think so, but who knows with Bruce. I swear, if he's pulling this bullshit just to get at you I will shoot him myself." A laugh got caught in your throat, as you were tempted to actually believe him.
"I see you guys gained a Robin. Who's the pipsqueak?" You gestured towards the smallest of the bunch.
"You insolent creature. How dare you --" The new Robin charged at you, but you quickly stepped out of the way and put your hand behind his head gently (at least for you) throwing him to the ground. Before he could make another pass, Dick grabbed onto his shoulder.
"Damian…that's not the smartest move and you know it." Dick turned towards you, "So Bruce had a kid…with Talia…" You couldn't help but burst with laughter.
"If you all are done. I believe Jason has arrived and we can get started on this rescue mission." Tim finally spoke up as he gestured to the computer monitor before him.
**
From what you gleaned, the boys had absolutely nothing to go on. Besides the fact that he was missing. Secretly, you called Tony and informed him of the situation, in hopes that he could find a lead. Then, you spent the next 3 days and nights on the roof of your building listening. You focused in on one conversation after another hoping for any kind of information. There was nothing. On the third night a familiar vigilante sauntered towards you.
"Please tell me you have something." You kept your glance on the streets below, watching as your feet swung in and out of your view.
"I was hoping you did." His voice almost sounded defeated as he sat beside you. At his response, you shut your eyes and began to search for voices again. It was getting more and more difficult as you fought off the fatigue. Suddenly the voices shut off, as did your vision. You felt like you were flying until someone's arms enveloped you.
The next time you opened your eyes you were in a bed…and not your own. You looked around and saw Jason in the adjacent room. He was on the phone, but you were still too exhausted to make out his words. Just as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, his words became clear.
"And where do you think you're going?" You looked up to realize he was now standing in the doorway.
"Well your idiot father isn't going to find himself."
"Hm. Maybe Tony Stark will." The agitation in his voice was unmistakable.
"Whatever, you guys needed help. I still don't understand this stupid rivalry."
"Well according to the tin can, Bats was spotted in New York."
"New York…"
"Yeah, by that spider thing."
"Great." You got up, but as you reached the door Jason refused to move. "You know I can just make you move."
"You could, normally. But I think you may be a little too sleep deprived for that." As your arm reached up, he caught it and quickly continued. "Plus if you agree to let me drive you...while you sleep. I'll go with you."
You scoffed at him. "Yeah I don't need you to go with me."
"What you think you can bring Bats in yourself? He's still mad at you…" You opened your mouth to respond, but immediately closed it before gesturing for him to lead the way.
181 notes · View notes
athenadione · 3 years
Note
Prompt #88 with Jayrae, with Raven as the person who got hurt. Pretty please?
Muahaha *cracks knuckles* don’t mind if I do. Thanks for the prompt anon! It fed my angsty soul. (Also, sorry all for the hiatus in updates. Life is... hard).
‘Toxic Vengeance’
Pairing: JayRae Words: 2,296 Rated: M - Warnings for cuss words, graphic scenes of violence, and major angst. 
When the knife slashes her thigh, it instantly feels like it’s on fire. 
With a hiss, she draws back. 
It’s as if someone pressed a red-hot branding iron to her leg, then twisted it deeper into the marred flesh for good measure—but instead of dulling, the burning sensation is growing at an alarming rate, spiraling up her entire leg. 
Another hooded figure dashes from her right, and with a wave of power she forces them back with a glittery black claw. They hit the nearest brick building with a thud. Another jumps from above to replace them, and she throws up a shield with her other hand, halting the strike of their sword in mid-air. More are filling the alley, coming from the shadows. The burning in her leg is now more of an afterthought as her adrenaline spikes.
I need to end this now. “Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos.” 
Her power flares, and strikes through the figure, sending it back, along with the others in one large surge. There’s a series of grunts, followed by the clattering of weapons, before all she can hear is her own harsh breathing and blood from her heartbeat rushing in her ears. 
Amethyst orbs search the alley with skepticism, expecting another cohort to flood the street. Another minute of scouring, then she releases a breath when she’s certain it’s over. 
The attack had happened the second she turned the corner to investigate the stain of dark magic covering the adjacent building. She had been following whispered rumors of a rising national occult for weeks, eventually leading her to Crime Alley of all places.  
A groan escapes one of the men. Her attention shifts to see him lying slumped against the wall, hood fallen. His face is covered in old ancient markings, confirming both the reasons for her suspicion and dread. 
The marks of Scath. It appears her father’s followers are growing in power. Now, she needs to find out why—and who is behind it. They know who I am and purposefully drew me out here. This is more than I anticipated.
Is their leader someone I know? Maybe Blood? 
As the adrenaline begins to flow out of her body, she becomes keenly aware of the burning pain that’s replacing it. When the burning in her thigh flows down to her toes and up the side of her body, she realizes that her heart rate hasn’t slowed and neither has her breathing. 
Glancing down at her leg, she curses at the blood flowing freely from the wound. It’s deep, and is now starting to bubble. A bright red streak grows across her leg—a clear sign of inflammation. 
Poison. It’s not one that she recognizes—nor is it one that her demon-half can expel. 
Not good. 
Once the severity of her situation sets in, so does her panic, and she stumbles when another flare of pain sends her head spinning. She staggers over to the brick wall, laying one arm against her forehead. It’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat. 
It’s too late to call Nightwing or Batman; They wouldn’t be able to make it in time, and she doesn’t know if she has the capacity to transport herself to the cave. 
There’s only a handful of other people she trusts that knows more than just the basics of toxicology. 
Black specks dance along her vision and she tries to blink them back, shaking her head with considerable effort. 
There’s only one other option.
With the last of her failing strength, her eyes blind an iridescent white, and inky black tendrils snake around her, enveloping her into its depths. 
A moment later they release her and she stumbles across the threshold into a musty apartment. It doesn’t help that it’s completely dark, and the pound of her heart now seems louder than before.
Somewhere within the confines someone curses loud.
Her thoughts are becoming more clouded, and it’s getting harder to breathe. There’s a growing fervency to keep walking, and she does, intent to find him. 
A heat sizzles over her skin, heightening at her thigh. 
She whimpers, and her knees buckle—legs no longer able to support her weight. She’s so out of it she doesn’t even brace for the ground. 
He catches her before she hits.
“Jesus Christ, Raven. What happened to you?” His breath tickles her ear, and she shivers—though from his voice or her wound she’s not sure.
“Ambush. Poison.” She gasps through another wave of burning pain that shoots all the way up to her chest. 
Another curse and she’s being lowered against his door as fingers begin to ghost over her body. 
“Where? What kind?” He finds the wound and bright emerald eyes flare as they meet her. They swirl and morph into one before her eyes, and she blinks, swallowing back a sudden wave of nausea. 
“Alley…knife…I don’t know. I’ve never… ” she trails off, barely getting the words out as her shortness of breath increases.
“Fuck. Fuck,” an arm presses her shoulder back when she begins to slump over. “You cannot pass out on me princess. I need you to stay awake.” 
“Sorry,” she says, slurring her words. She’s growing exceedingly dizzy and her vision is blurring faster. She can’t get enough air to breathe. 
Something jars her. “Raven, stay with me.” 
Her heart feels like it’s going to tear and claw its way out of her chest, and for a moment she thinks it is. 
It beats faster, and faster, and faster.
“Rae, open your eyes. Look at me.” 
But then it stops. 
“Raven.” 
And all she knows is darkness. 
.
“Stand by. Preparing to shock.” 
There’s a loud, involuntary gasp, and a charging whine. 
“Shit. I swear to God you better not fucking die on me Rae.” 
.
“Evaluating heart rhythm… no shock advised. Continue CPR.”
The sound of pumping compressions fills the air. Green eyes glow as they glare at her prone figure.
“Breathe Goddammit!”
When he bites his lip, it’s hard enough to draw blood, but at least he managed to blink back the sudden, unbidden tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes.
He tries not to shake his hands when he hears her sternum crack underneath the heel of his palm. 
“What are you doing on this com-line Hood?” The growl in his ear is laced with caution, and he can’t blame him. At least he answered. 
He gets to the point fast. “It’s Raven, she was poisoned. I don’t know what it is, but I think it’s systemic,” he pauses as the voice in his ear curses. “She’s coding Nightwing, get someone to my apartment now.” 
There’s another tense pause as Dick listens to Jason’s sharp exhales coinciding with his compressions. 
“Where?” 
“The one closest to the Alley, on 3rd.”
“Z will come teleport us. AED?” 
Jason stops and sits back on his haunches as the defilibrator analyzes again. The machine’s response only heightens his fear. 
“No shock. Continuing CPR, it’s been a few minutes,” he swallows thick as he checks her carotid pulse again. Nothing. “I’m losing her godammit, hurry the fuck up.” 
“On our way.”
He immediately cuts the transmission to focus on his task.
One, two, three, four, five...
.
He doesn’t know how much longer he’s been counting to thirty, just that he’s done it over and over. 
A cacophony of motion behind him almost interrupts his concentration. Someone places a gloved hand on his shoulder with urgency. 
“She needs to be transported to the Watchtower as soon as possible.” 
Lips press together firmly, then he nods. Allowing Zatanna to intervene, she envelopes the empath in her magic. They leave the AED pads attached. 
In seconds, they’re gone. Then the others turn to follow. 
“I’m going with her.” 
Nightwing stills, eyes flicking to Batman.
The resounding silence is near palpable. Nightwing takes a tentative step forward, breaking it. 
“Little wing… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” 
Fluorescent eyes shine with stone-cold defiance.
“You can’t stop me.”
Batman grunts—the closest thing he’ll ever get to an affirmation. It’s a sizable achievement, but he doesn’t feel victorious at all. 
She’s still in cardiac arrest, but if anyone can help her it’s Zatanna. 
And if there���s anyone that can overcome something like this it’d be her. 
Come on princess, come back to me. 
.
She codes three more times in the medbay. The crash team hovers as everyone else tirelessly searches for the right antidote. 
He doesn’t know what to do with himself. 
While he watches her Nightwing briefs him on her mission. He listens. It’s a distraction. Then white hot anger licks and gnashes up his chest to his throat with each word until he’s fisting his hands tight to hide the tremors. 
“... I thought it might be Blood but assassins and poison isn’t really his style. Do you think the League could have something to do with this?” Nightwing asks beside him.
His response is slow and level, revealing no hint of the turbulence of emotion that lies underneath, “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” 
Nightwing gives him a pensive stare, but says nothing. 
Jason narrows his eyes. 
Dead. They’re all fucking dead. 
.
They’re able to create one an hour later. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so relieved to see someone breathe. 
He waits until she’s stable before slipping away. The teleporter still recognizes him as Robin, and he’s not sure what to think about that when he steps onto the platform. 
Batman gives him a look that he acknowledges as both a warning and a threat; But why should he care? He lost respect for that man a long time ago, and doesn’t give two shits what he thinks.
Unlike Bruce, he’s not afraid to avenge those he cares about most through whatever means necessary.
.
A piercing cry follows the crack of snapping bone. Another finger, broken. That leaves seven more, and I’ve got all fucking night. 
“I won’t ask again,” comes a growl, “I want answers.”
The man’s panting is interrupted by a swift kick to the gut. He bends over with a groan, before he glares up at the Red Hood through one eye. The other is swollen shut. 
“Why would I tell you? You’re just going to kill me anyway.” 
Hood hums, cocking his gun. “True, but it’ll hurt wayyy less if you do.” 
The man spits at his boots, a mixture of saliva and blood. “Good luck. I won’t talk.” 
A malicious grin grows from underneath Hood’s mask. 
“Unfortunately for you, I don’t need it.” 
.
The hallway is empty, save for him and Nightwing.
Really it’s just a perfect place for a one-on-one scolding—and his brother clearly decides to take advantage of it.
“You shouldn’t have done that. He will retaliate. This is Ra’s we’re talking about.” 
Jason’s jaw clenches tight. 
“Who knows how many supporters he’s managed to convince that Trigon can fix all of their worldly problems? He could call on all of them at any given moment.” 
He bares his teeth. 
“You’ve made a mess, Hood. It’s going to take months to clean up what you did.” 
He can’t stand it anymore. “Are you shitting me? I did you all a fucking favor,” he points a finger in Richard’s chest. “I found out more information in an hour investigating my way than you all did in weeks. If you’re not happy with my methods then do a better goddamned job covering your teammates.” He nearly chokes on that last word, attention drifting to the unmoving woman in the room across from them. 
Dick’s eyes follow and widen, then narrow just as fast, and he crosses his arms. 
“You love her.” 
He should have known Richard would figure it out. Why even try to fucking deny it anymore?
“Yeah,” he winces when his voice comes out raw. “I do.” 
Dick raises a brow, unapologetic. “She’s not going to like what you did either.”
Jason doesn’t have the decency to look ashamed. 
“I know.”
He wonders if she would have done the same.
.
“The antidote stopped any further damage, but she remains comatose. We’ve deduced that her body’s gone into a healing trance to mend herself internally. There’s nothing else we can do but wait and continue to monitor.” 
He stares at her porcelain face, no longer resisting the urge to tuck a stray lock of indigo behind her ear. Even at rest her brows are furrowed—like she knows what’s coming.
He waits until he can no longer hear Zatanna’s echoing steps to draw closer to her, breathing in her familiar scent of incense and old books. It’s a welcome change from the sterile smell of antiseptic. 
“You’re really taking your time huh, sunshine? How rude of you, leaving me with these assholes,” he fingers another strand of hair before releasing it with a sigh. 
“You scared the shit out of me. Don’t do that again.” He gives her a mock glare, half-expecting her to glower back. When she doesn’t he swallows, and takes another breath. 
“There’s one more thing I need to do… and I know you’re going to hate it, but I’m going to do it anyway.” He imagines pools of lavender, ablaze with fire, and a mouth already poised to argue with a vehemence that makes him smile in the present. 
“I won’t be able to come back here after I finish, and I’m sorry I won’t be there when you wake up,” he takes her hand and squeezes. “But I’m not sorry for what I’m about to do.” 
The incessant beeping of the machines she’s hooked up to is his only response. 
He lowers his face, and brushes his lips against the crown of her head. 
“I love you.” 
Walking away from her is hard, and he almost turns back.
But he doesn’t.
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s-and-n-writes · 3 years
Text
you are my north
a/n: hey guys! here's the soulmate fic i've been working on for a while. it's an outline-style because i didn't want to write out the whole thing. enjoy! -s ps. i can't write summaries to save my life. pps. this fic is rated teen only because of two curse words, and while there is some major character death, i didn't mark it in the warnings because it's temporary.
quick links: | crossover masterlist | 
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People get many types of soulmate bonds
Some are romantic and some are platonic
Platonic can be friends, family, found-family, etc
Bonds can include marks, writing on arms, switching bodies, etc
Everyone has a soulbond but some aren’t visible or obvious
Marinette grew up in Gotham named Marianne
She didn’t have a visual bond so hers would manifest when she met her soulmate
Her parents were killed when their house burned down (she was 5)
She was sent to an orphanage and ran away after a few months (she was still 5)
Lived on the streets for a year until she met Jason Todd (she was 6 and he was 10)
They met when two older boys tried to steal Marianne’s money since she was small
Jason beat them up and gave her his hand to lift her up
When their hands met there was a flash of light
Marianne - My mama told me about this. She said it was a soulmate bond and the person it was with was really really really special to me.
They both have a compass on their palms pointing to where the other is
They go off together and live together on the streets
She calls him “Jay-Jay” and he calls her “Pixie” or “Mari”
2 years later (Marianne is 8 and Jason is 12)
Jason goes out and finds the Batmobile and proceeds to get adopted
He refuses and wants to find Marianne
Jason - Let me go old man!
Batman - No. You’re coming with me.
Jason - I need to find my sister!
Batman - Fine. Find her and you both will come with me.
Both go in search of Marianne
Earlier Marianne woke up and found Jason missing so she went out to search
She couldn’t find him and was upset and was sloppy
A Parisian couple found her and adopted her
The people at the GCPD were like ????? because who adopts a Gotham street kid?
Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng apparently
So Marianne is taken to Paris while Jason and Batman are looking for her
They can’t find her and Jason goes with Batman and gets adopted and everything
Jason believes she must have been taken out of Gotham because his compass points towards the harbor and towards the water
Eventually gives up because he won’t be able to find her since across the ocean is a massive place
Gotham proceeds as normal
In Paris...
Marianne is refusing everything because she didn’t want to leave and she misses her brother
Tom and Sabine didn’t want two children so they didn’t bother looking for her brother
They rename her Marinette
She goes to school and makes friends with two boys named Nino and Kim and is enemies with Chloe, the mayor’s daughter
Reluctantly starts calling Tom and Sabine ‘Maman’ and ‘Papa’ because it would look weird if she didn’t and she didn’t want to talk about her past
They treat her nicely but she still misses her old parents
Marinette makes more and more friends but they don’t know about her past or her brother
When she’s 11 she sees on the news that Jason Todd-Wayne died
She’s really sad because her brother and soulmate died but also insanely confused because he somehow got adopted by Bruce Wayne???
Back to his death
Her compass stays but her compass needle disappears
She withdraws and doesn’t go to school for a week
She asked everyone not to give her any nicknames (not that she had any in the first place)
Nobody knows she had a brother except Tom and Sabine but even they don’t know his name
Everyone is told one of her family members died and her parents try to console her but eventually give up
Continuing on and time skips
Her parents start leaving her alone more as she got older
It helped when she became Ladybug
Marinette also slightly resents them for forcefully adopting her and then kind of neglecting her but let’s not get into that
Becomes friends with Alya and starts crushing on Adrien
Alya posts everything and is very intrusive
Marinette is constantly questioned about her soulbond but always refuses to answer
Did I mention that she always wears gloves ever since Jason died?
Because she does
She doesn’t want to see the compass and be reminded of him
Anyways, Alya keeps trying but is always refused
She calls Marinette ‘Mari’ one day and she just…snaps
Marinette goes on this big rant about personal information and privacy and respecting boundaries and ends up screaming at her and curls in a ball crying
Alya leaves and stops being friends with her because Marinette is ‘mean’ and ‘sensitive’
They occasionally talk but they’re not really friends anymore
Very soon after, Lila comes and that's why Alya turned on Marinette so quick
Adrien tells her to “take the high road” and her crush on him dies
Marinette becomes even more miserable because everyone has left her and she is alone
Luka and Kagami aren’t her close friends here
And Chloe is not in her class anymore
Tikki is her only friend until Master Fu gives her guardianship and she is in charge of her kwamis
She is incredibly stressed because of Ladybug, Guardian duties, bakery shifts, and school
Tikki gives her the idea to get rid of bakery duties and not focus on Guardian stuff and instead do a hobby
She tells her ‘parents’ that she’s too busy with school to work at the bakery
They roll their eyes and ignore her again and sometimes she thinks they only adopted her to get her to work for them for free
There isn’t too much to do for Guardian stuff anyways
She designs more and more as a hobby and ends up opening a commission website (that’s completely anonymous so Lie-la and her cronies can’t do anything to it)
It’s more work but it relaxes her and is great for making money
Her pseudonym ‘MAT’ is famous because of Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale constantly mentioning her
MAT stands for both Marinette And Tikki, and MariAnne Todd
Eventually she gets a request from the Waynes
Marinette just cried because this was her brothers family and takes the request
She makes everything extra personalized and charges a bit less and writes a note to them
The note says something about how she knew Jason before he died and he was like a brother to her and she misses him so much and she can’t imagine what they’re going through
By this time she’s 16 and Jason would have been 20 and he is currently being Red Hood (not that she knows that)
Stuff happens, Hawkmoth is defeated, and she takes the ring away from Chat Noir because he’s an asshole who can’t take no for an answer
It’s Adrien Agreste...thank god she didn’t have a crush on him anymore
Time passes, and Marinette is now 18
She has moved out of the bakery and into her own apartment
She’s still in school but it’s her last year
She is now insanely famous and her identity is the best kept secret in the world
She is completely alone except for the Kwamis
So Marinette had entered a contest sponsored by Wayne Industries and won
The prize is a trip to Gotham for the entire class...fuck
If Marinette had known she probably wouldn’t have entered
Why would she go back to the place where her brother died?
She has to go though because she is the contest winner
Lila took credit for it and is spinning lies about how she’s so close to the Waynes and is dating Timothy Drake
So now onto a plot twist yay
On the morning of the trip Marinette is getting ready
She hasn’t looked at her hands in forever because she doesn’t want to be reminded about Jason
Keep in mind that she wears gloves constantly
That morning she looks at them because she wants to prepare for being in Gotham again and memories sake and things
Marinette is shocked when the compass needle is back and pointing in a direction
She doesn’t know what happened since as far as she knows people can’t come back to life and her needle was definitely gone before
So after interrogating Tikki and Plagg for a while she finds out that yes, there are ways to bring someone back to life and some aren’t very good for you *cough* Lazarus Pit *cough*
On the plane ride she is thinking and being both excited and scared/worried
Excited because Jason’s alive!
Scared/worried because some ways of bringing back the dead don’t work very well…
The plane lands and they get out of the airport with no big issues
Except for Lie-la hiding her luggage and getting the class to leave without her
So now Marinette has to walk across Gotham at night, alone, while carrying heavy luggage and looking like a tiny, weak, foreigner
She is practically begging to get mugged but what can you do?
Around halfway to the hotel she hears footsteps behind her
Before she can do anything, Red Hood jumps down from a roof and takes them down
He ties them up and calls the police
Marinette thinks he is familiar but ignores the feeling and goes on her way
Red Hood (Jason) also thinks she is familiar but also ignores it
Now is the time for normal Maribat field trip tropes and ideas
Nothing big happens to advance the plot
The last week of their trip is at Gotham Academy and then they go to the Wayne Gala
Again, normal first day at GA tropes until there’s a Rogue attack
For plot reasons (can’t reveal the akuma situation, Ladybug can’t be in Gotham, she has nowhere good to transform, etc), Marinette hides in a storage closet
She rubs her compass-palm to calm herself and looks at it
The needle is moving as if her soulmate was walking towards her (or the closet where she’s hidden)
But that’s not possible because Jason should be 22 and definitely shouldn’t be in a school right?
Marinette is freaking out and then the needle is pointing directly in front of her
And then the doorknob turns and the door opens and she sees…
DUN DUN DUN
Red Hood!
Marinette is kind of shocked but shrugs it off for a minute
Red Hood tells her the attack is over and she can come out
He helps her up but when their hands touch there’s a flash of light
Marinette - Jay-Jay?
Jason - Pixie?
Then there’s a very heartwarming reunion that I’m too angsty to write properly
Marinette starts going by Marianne again and meets the Bats
They love her immediately (and more when they realize that she is MAT who personalized their commissions and wrote that note long ago)
Lie-la’s lies get taken down
At the Wayne Gala she is announced to be Jason Todd-Wayne’s platonic soulmate, Marianne Todd
They live happily ever after
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a/n: if you would like to be tagged for any of the maribat drabbles we post, shoot us a message and we’ll tag you!
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awhitehead17 · 3 years
Note
For the prompts: how about Tim getting hurt/injured on patrol? (how bad is up to you) And Dick or Jay (or both) rescue him and take care of him.
Thanks for the prompt that’s been sat in my inbox for who knows how long at this point! I kind of got carried away with this story but it was fun to write and I hope you enjoy it! :D 
Tim had been patrolling the streets of Gotham, covering his usual route and taking out the normal petty criminals as time went on. It had been an easy night which Tim didn’t mind, he was perfectly happy with the pace, after a long and gruelling week, this patrol has been enough for him to work away some stress and to let go a little.
It had been nearing 2am when he came across the biggest case for the night. He had been passing over a back alley when two black anonymous cars got his attention. They were parked together however he couldn’t see anyone standing nearby.
While it doesn’t appear to be much, Tim’s instincts are telling him there’s more to the cars and he decides to hover around to see if something would happen or not. After several minutes of waiting, Tim’s taken by surprise when more cars pull up to the location. A single black car along with a black van park at the opposite end of the alleyway, keeping a respective distance away from the others.
All car doors open and various of people climb out of the vehicles as they move to meet in the middle. Tim frowns as he watches the scene. To his knowledge none of the Bats have been informed about this kind of arrangement happening that night. Oracle hadn’t said anything nor did the police.
How had something like this slipped past their radars? Tim switches his mask into night vision mode to get a clearer view of those involved but he’s stumped even more when he doesn’t recognise a single face.
Realising that this is part of something bigger Tim decides to stay hidden, this is a perfect opportunity to gather more intel about what’s happening first-hand. He sent out a ping to his location to the others on patrol that night, alerting them that he’s going to need back-up. Tim estimates about 15 minutes before someone arrives.
The group in the middle continue to talk and after a pause the back of the van is opened and what looks like various of brief cases are brought out into the open. The men carrying the cases drop them in front of the other group and take a step back.
From his current position on the rooftops above the alleyway, Tim doesn’t have a clear view of the contents inside those cases. After a glance around he makes a plan to switch to another location that’ll give him a new vantage point. Unfortunately when he goes to make a move he startles a pigeon that had settled nearby without him realising. Tim had been so absorbed into the scene before him that he lost all sense of his surroundings.
The pigeon freaks out and takes off into the night sky, grabbing the attention of the men down below as it goes. Tim freezes on the spot when the men see him and everything comes to a stop. Tim blinks at the men as they blink back at him.
Then it’s chaos. One of the men suddenly yell and gunfire immediately follows. Snapping into action Tim dodges the bullets and jumps down to the alley in the midst of the group. Without thinking about it, he starts taking them out one by one engaging each of them in a fight. As he fights Tim tries to take into account how many of them there are and even where the vehicles were parked but the men were making it difficult to concentrate.
A poor misjudgement on his part ends up with Tim getting a knife sliced across his thigh. While he’s able to ignore the stinging sensation, the unexpectedness of it causes him to stumble. In that moment of weakness, Tim finds his legs being swept out from underneath him and he lands on the ground with a grunt.
In no time at all Tim finds himself surrounded and different parts of his body are targeted as he receives blow after blow. For a long moment Tim’s completely disorientated as he tries to fight his way out. He’s not sure how long he stays on the ground but with a bout of luck Tim catches one of them in the chest with his foot and kicks them away. He gets lucky again when his fist collides with a cheek, successfully knocking another away from him.
Ignoring the pain developing throughout his body, Tim kips up to his feet and immediately swings for the person on his right, he follows the action through and spins back around bringing up an elbow into someone’s nose as he does so.
After that Tim finds a gap in the group around him and takes off sprinting down the length of the alleyway. He needs to get away and find somewhere to hide, there’s too many of them to take on by himself.
Tim’s running is put to an abrupt stop when pain flares up through his calf. The shock of it makes him stagger and as he tries to right himself his ankles rolls causing him to crumple to the ground. He doesn’t stop though. Hissing through the pain Tim wills himself to keep going.
On the floor, he scrambles on his knees and hands until he comes across a large stack of crates piled up against the wall. Tim dives behind them, using them as cover as he tries to evaluate the situation.
His thoughts are interrupted when gunfire sounds out. He flinches and curls up against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible to avoid getting hit by any stray bullets.
The wall and crates are providing a good temporary cover for him but it won’t be long until the bullets begin to pass through the thick wood. He needs to try and move elsewhere before the men come around and reach him.
When the gun fire ceases Tim decides to risk a glance over the top of the crates, he wants to get some idea on how close they are to him. However he’s stopped from looking when a hand suddenly clamps down on his shoulder and forces him to stay still.  
Tim jerks in surprise and is about to swing with his fist when he catches sight of who’s there.
“Stay down. We’ve got it from here.”
Tim doesn’t know what to say when Dick’s authoritative voice sounds out. He’s looking at Tim with a frown and his hand stays on Tim’s shoulder as if making sure Tim follows his order. From the corner of his eye Tim spots more movement and sees a familiar red helmet go by.
“Hey shitheads, why don’t you take on someone your own size?”
Even without seeing the helmet, Tim would know Jason’s sarcastic voice anywhere.
After the comment more gunfire erupts, there’s even more now that Jason’s is added into the mix. Dick’s gaze lingers on him for a moment longer before he’s jumping over the crates and joining the fight.
Disliking the idea, Tim stays put. He really ought to be out there with his brothers fighting but he knows that the best thing to do is to stay out of the way. Nightwing and Red Hood can handle it.
Tim sighs and slumps against the wall, finally taking the chance to assess his body for the first time. The wound on his thigh is stinging, the knife having cut through the fabric of his leggings and catching his skin. The wound, while not deep, is large and is sluggishly bleeding. It’ll probably need stitches.
He moves his attention away from his thigh down to his calf. Now he’s paying attention to it, he could feel the wound throbbing, how the slightest bit of movement or twitch causes pain to flare through his muscle.
Tim hisses when he readjusts his position to try and get a better look at the wound. Lighting from the streetlamp isn’t enough so Tim digs out his pocket torch to get a better look. He instantly grimaces when the bloody wound becomes clear to see.
He can see where the bullet would have entered his calf muscle and if the pain is anything to go by, he thinks that the bullet may still be in there. The wound is bleeding but Tim’s pretty sure it hasn’t hit a major artery, he would be in a very different state if that was the case.
“Baby bird?”
Tim jerks at the voice and looks up to find his brothers now crouched in front of him. When had they gotten there? Is it all over?
“It’s all being sorted, the police are on their way and everyone involved tonight is currently tied up and unconscious. We’ll be finding out more about this soon and we’ll work out what bigger play this exchange is part of.” Dick says as if he read Tim’s mind.
Jason shifts his position and gently takes the torch out of Tim’s hand. Tim lets it go without protest and lets his arm flop down by his side. He’s feeling rather tired now, putting his head back he closes his eyes and allows Jason to check the wound in his leg.
Not a second later he’s feeling rough pats against his cheek. “Hey, you can’t go to sleep Tim. Stay awake buddy.”
Tim grumbles about code names and grudgingly opens his eyes. In front of him Jason is beginning to carefully prod the wound and Dick is watching his face with a concerned frown. After a particular prod Tim flinches and hisses, if he had the energy he would smack Jason.
“It’s pretty bad, the bullet’s still in there.” Jason informs Dick, Tim already knew this of course. “Are there any other injuries?”
Tim vaguely gestures to his thigh where the knife wound is. Whatever Jason says next is lost to Tim as his vision suddenly spins before it goes dark.
-------
When he comes to, Tim’s instantly hit with the smell of antiseptic and is blinded by bright lights. He groans in displeasure before slowly blinking his eyes open again, this time letting his sight adjust to the brightness.
He lets out a second groan when he registers the pain throughout his body. Most of it seems to be centred around his legs but there’s a noticeable throbbing sensation in his head alongside achiness in his torso.
Tim takes a deep breath and starts trying to work out what happened. To begin with his mind is fuzzy, his headache makes it difficult to recall the details of what happened. It’s not until he shifts his body, moving his leg a fraction, that it all comes back, allowing him to remember what happened.
He groans a third time, though this is in annoyance at himself and the situation he’s now in. Thank god that Dick and Jason arrived when they did or else it would have ended so much worse for Tim than a bullet in the leg.
Gritting his teeth, Tim raises himself up to his elbows and glances around the room. He’s in the cave’s med bay, a blanket is draped over him and there are machines quietly thrumming beside the bed he’s on.
Tim gingerly lifts the blanket and looks down at his legs, both of them were covered in bandages, his right calf covered up where the bullet wound is and his left thigh patched up from the knife wound he received.
“Finally awake then?”
Tim’s head jerks up at the voice. Jason, followed by Dick, enters the med bay and comes to stand by the bedside. Tim notices how his eyes linger on his face before traveling down his body, as if checking him over. Dick’s doing the exact same thing as he stands next to Jason.
“Obviously.” Tim retorts with an eye roll. That probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do, especially when the room spins afterwards, he takes a breath to steady himself.
“How are you feeling?” Dick asks looking concerned. He and Jason pull up some chairs and settle down beside him.
Tim drops back down onto the mattress, turning his head so he can keep looking at his brothers and answers, “sore.”
“Well that’s not surprising, Alfred did play operation on you after all.” Jason comments stiffly.
Not sure on how to respond to that, Tim simply hums in acknowledgement. A wave of guilt washes over him at the thought of putting Alfred through that, he appreciates it of course, he would be dead a hundred times over if it weren’t for Alfred. Maybe he should look into getting him a present, or maybe paying for a vacation for him.
Tim takes another deep breath. “What happened?” He starts pushing himself back up onto his elbows, now wanting to sit up again. Seeing his movements, Dick jumps up to his feet and helps him sit up right as he raises the bed into a comfortable incline position.
“You sent out a ping to your position and at the time Dick and I were together. As soon as it came in we immediately headed towards you. However when we arrived, we find you hidden behind some crates bleeding out! What the hell were you thinking Tim!” Jason exclaims sounding agitated. His voice had kept on rising with each word until he’s basically shouting.
Tim looks away feeling conflicted. He’s annoyed because it’s not like he planned for it to happen, he didn’t know what he was walking into and he certainly never planned to get into a fight. On the other hand he probably should have done more to get away or to figure out what was going on.
“Knock it off Jason.” Dick snaps at their brother.
Jason jumps up to his feet, glaring down at Dick, his arms swinging around as he gestures wildly while speaking. “He almost died Dick! What if we didn’t get there in time huh? What if we arrived five minutes later? They would have found him, he wouldn’t have been able to get away and then they would have shot him until he looked like a fucking dart board full of holes!”
“Jason!”
Jason opens his mouth to say something but seems to rethink it, he ends up shaking his head and storming out of the med bay without another word.
Dick gets to his feet and shouts at Jason, trying to get his attention but the younger man ignores him as he storms off. The entire time Tim watches this happen from the bed. He feels frozen in place, unable to speak up, unable to get Jason to stay and feels extremely bad for causing his brother that much distress.
His thoughts must have been showing because Dick leans over the bed and grasps Tim’s hand in his own, giving it a comforting squeeze. “It’s not your fault Timmy. The situation is being handled, they’re all in custody and are now being investigated. We’re working on why something like that slipped our radars but none of that is your fault.”
He knows that’s true of course but knowing and believing are two different things. It’s nice to know that it’s being looked into though.
Tim glances at the doorway where Jason had just left and sighs. “But he isn’t wrong Dick. I got myself into a situation that I couldn’t easily get out of and it would have ended badly if you two hadn’t come when you did.”
“Hey.” Dick’s voice is low, sounding both stern and soft at the same time. Tim blinks at him, his eyes meeting Dick’s own. “We’ve all been in those kind of situations before Tim. Unfortunately it happens, but at the end of the day, we did get there in time and nothing major happened, that’s a win in my books. We also got the bad guys.”
Tim swallows thickly and looks away from Dick, knowing he’s right but the guilt inside of him is making it difficult to accept the words.
“Before we got your call, Jason was having a difficult night. A situation he stumbled on brought up old memories and it shook him. I happened to be near by and talked him down, that’s when your call came in. I think that on top of seeing you hurt and then passing out pushed him a little too far emotionally. He’ll come around once he’s calmed down.”
If Tim was feeling bad before, now he’s just feeling downright awful. Tim doesn’t respond to Dick, he ends up getting lost in his own thoughts for a long moment, reflecting back on what occurred and how it obviously has affected Jason.
He’s brought out of his head when a hand runs through his hair, he blinks dazedly at Dick, coming back into the moment. Dick smiles at him knowingly. “I’m going to grab you some pain killers and then some food okay, Alfred will be down later to check the wounds and then we can see about moving you upstairs.”
Tim sends Dick a strained smile, truly grateful for his brother and just the way he understands these things. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you.”
-------
The following day, Tim finds himself limping down the hallway using the wall to support himself as he goes. He’s supposed to be in bed, resting his legs and getting some sleep but there’s one thing on his mind and it won’t leave him alone until he confronts it.
Tim travels through the hallway, with one destination in mind. A bedroom several doors down from his own because there’s a certain someone he needs to speak to.
When he finally reaches the door, Tim takes a moment to pause to take a deep breath. That small walk has left him feeling knackered! That’s also not mentioning how much his legs are protesting at him for moving around. He takes another breath before knocking on the door and when a voice calls for him to enter, Tim does so.
The person he’s looking for is sprawled out on the bed with a book in hand. When Tim enters Jason peers over the top of the book to look at him. Tim sees the surprise cross Jason’s face, clearly the elder had not been expecting him. He quickly sits up, bookmarks his page and places the book down on the bed.
“Tim what are you doing up? You should be resting!”
“I needed to talk to you.” Tim answers honestly.
Tim sees Jason’s jaw clench, his brother looks away for a moment before he’s staring at Tim again. It comes as a surprise when Jason pats the space on the mattress in front of him, Tim had been expecting to be rejected. Finding that he’s welcome, Tim quickly accepts the offer and limps to the bed before slumping down on it, it’s a bit of relief when the weight is taken off of his legs.
Now he’s there in front of Jason, Tim is having trouble finding his words. All day he’s been preparing what he’s going to say to his brother, he planned to talk about what happened and also wants to make sure Jason is okay but now he has no idea on how to start the conversation.
“How are you feeling?” Jason asks him, sounding almost cautious. Tim knows that Jason knows exactly what he wants to talk about, the real reason why he’s come to see him.
“Uh, better, getting there at least.” Tim answers. “Alfred said the wounds are healing nicely but I’m on strict rest for at least a week.”
“We both know that’s not going to happen.” Jason says smirking, he crosses his arms and leans back against the headboard.
Tim cracks a grin at that and shakes his head slightly. “Probably not, five days maybe?”
They both share a light laugh before sobering up again. Tim turns and faces Jason head on. His bother looks back, blinking at him, expectantly waiting.
“Jason-”
“Tim-”
They both talk at the same time and stop before staring at one another for a long moment. Jason then gestures for Tim to talk.
Tim frowns. “Dick told me that you were having a bad night the other day. I’m sorry that you had to go through that and then obviously dealing with me and the situation didn’t help anything. I wanted to apologise and to see if you were okay. What happened the other night-”
Jason makes a slashing action with his hand and pins Tim with a hard determined look. “I’m going to stop you right there baby bird. You have nothing to apologise for alright. I’m the one who overreacted, especially after you woke up. I did have a rough night yes, seeing you hurt worried me, yes, but that doesn’t mean I should have taken it out on you.”
“I don’t blame you for-”
“It’s not about blame Tim.” Jason cuts him off again. “You got hurt and I should have been there for you and I wasn’t. That’s my fault, not yours.”
Tim shakes his head. He doesn’t like that Jason is blaming himself in this equation. “It’s not. You were there for me Jay, remember, you saved my life. If you and Dick hadn’t of come I would have been a goner for sure. I’m just sorry that you found me in that state.”
Jason stares at him before rubbing a hand over his face. Tim notices that he looks exhausted, like he’s both mentally and physically drained. “You know what,” Jason sighs, “we’re not getting anywhere if we keep blaming ourselves here. It was a shitty situation, one that we were all unprepared for.”
Tim nods. “Exactly. The bad guys were caught, that’s what Dick told me, and very little damage was done.”
Jason sends him a deadpan look. “You got shot and stabbed Tim.”
“Only one bullet…” Tim mutters quietly, glancing away.
He hears Jason huff in both amusement and frustration. Tim looks back up at Jason when he would feel the other’s gaze on him. “What?”  
“Do you need help getting back to your room? You really should be resting.”
“I should be fine thanks…”
Tim makes a move to get up, preparing himself for the discomfort that’s going to come walking on injured legs but before he could, Jason is shifting on the mattress, creating more space on one side. When Tim sends him a questioning look, his brother waves at the space.
“Get comfy, I’ll stick a film on.”
Tim knows he should probably refuse, he should let Jason have his space, but the idea of leaving isn’t all that appealing. Instead of refusing he finds himself shuffling up and lying down on the mattress, getting comfy as he does so, while Jason gets up and puts a DVD on before returning to the bed.
With no hesitation Jason wraps one arm around Tim’s shoulders and hugs him close. Tim instantly soaks in the warmth and comfort that’s provided like a sponge to water. Since getting injured he can finally let himself relax, now feeling like a huge weight has been lifted off his chest. He smiles to himself and sinks into Jason’s side as the film begins to play on the screen in front of him.
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