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Jaybird

Fandom: DC Universe - Batfam Pairing: Jason Todd x reader Word count: 6.1k Summary: One day you meet a boy in dirty clothes and give him food, he becomes your best friend and then he leaves and dies. In his name you start helping others like him. Then you meet a man in a Red Hood. Requested by a super sweet and creative Anon, whom I very sorry to for taking this long: i had this idea of a readerxjason todd fic where reader lives by the edge of crime alley and gave jason food when they were kids when he was homeless, and they became friends. [...] years go by and she meets red hood. they bond over their shared goal, and like... stuff happens with a reveal and stuff ya know?you don't have to write it ofc, only if you want to:) - this idea was amazing!!! I had a real writing rush for it Warning: Angst, like majorly, mention of malnorishment, major character death (obvy), depression, more Angst, guns, violence homophobia (but just a short mention), please comment if I missed any. Also it does have fluff in the end I promise

The first time you had met Jason Todd, you saved his life. It had been a cold night and your father had sent you out to play on the fire escape by yourself while he was playing poker with some of his friends. You didn’t particularly like these men and the women they brought around, their stench always lingered around on the couch, they made crude and mean comments towards you and each other and they were too loud. The small flat you lived in only had one big living area with a kitchen and one bathroom so your father had put a mattress and a soft carpet into one of the corners for you to sleep and play on, but while his friends were over he prefered for you to play on your own outside. He always made sure you were dressed warm enough and he gave you your dinner early. Tonight, like many other nights, your dinner was a relatively big portion of spaghetti and a roll of bread, but you weren’t that hungry so the plate just stood beside you and cooled down. Your interest belonged to the cars driving by below you and you started imagining different stories for all the people that drove them. Maybe the lady in the back of the taxi was a secret spy on her way to a mission and the large men in the small Toyota a sumo ringer by night. Thanks to your fantasy you could entertain yourself for hours at a time just by making up little stories and secrets that no one else but you knew about. You were just imagining the tragic story behind the big black van that was slowly driving by next to a small alley beside your house when your attention was drawn to a figure running out of it. Your father had warned you about the dangers that living in this area of Gotham entailed and how you should never trust strangers but as the person came closer to the area below your part of the fire escape, gazing behind him to watch out for a group of men that were now getting out of the van and looked around, you realized that he could not be much older than you. Maybe ten or eleven to your fair eight and a half years of age. Without really overthinking it, you shouted out to him and grabbed his attention. When he looked up to you you pointed to the ladder that would lead up to you. He seemed conflicted for a second but with one last look behind him, he made his way up with an amazing speed for a kid of his age. When he emerged and sat down in front of you the two of you just looked at each other for a while and you smiled. The boy didn’t smile back, instead, moving closer to the railing and looking at the black van that was thankfully driving away. He let out a noticeable sigh of relief. He didn’t say anything as he turned away again and went back to the ladder, but something made you stop him. Even with your young age, you had seen enough kids like him, the dirty clothes, the slim frame almost malnourished and the hooded eyes, always looking for danger. You knew that he had no place to go back to.

“Are you hungry?” you asked him simply and he flinched a little, but shot you a look over his shoulder. Before he could turn away again you quickly motioned to the plate behind you and you saw his eyes grow wide. He seemed wary but his hunger won as he positioned himself in front of you again, a small nod the only answer to your question. You shot him another smile and gave him the plate, the utensils and the bread. A few seconds passed before he started basically devouring the food. For a while, you just constantly looked back down at the cars but then you thought better of it and started rambling about everything and anything on your mind. About your favourite colour and why you wondered why so many people didn’t like brown, about the dog you always wanted and the cat you had as a little girl that ran away, about your lack of friends and about how your one goal in life was to ride on a unicorn. You didn’t look at the boy, but it was obvious you were telling him these things. You didn’t notice that he listened very attentively as he stuffed his mouth full. Even when the bread was gone and the plate completely empty he still just looked at you as you told him all these things. You hadn’t asked him once about what was going on, why he was running, where his family was, and for that, he was even more thankful than for the food. He felt warm inside, despite the cold, and it was a warmth he hadn’t felt in a really long time. Suddenly you stopped mid-sentence, turned to face him, smiled wide and said: “I’m Y/N, by the way.” And for the first time that night, the boy spoke as he quietly mumbled: “‘m Jason.” “I love making new friends Jason,” you replied and for some reason, Jason wasn’t bothered the slightest by you just assuming he was your friend now, no, quite the opposite actually. In a weird way, it made him very happy. The moment of content was disrupted by a knock on the milk glass door that told you your dad’s friend had left and he wanted you back inside. Out of instinct, you looked at the door, but when you looked back Jason was gone. You knew you would see him again though.

Following that evening the two of you built a weird sort of routine. During the weekdays, you’d take whatever produce they gave you at lunch and stuff it in your bag because you knew that on your short walk home you’d meet Jason in the alley you had seen him come out from, and you’d give him the food and spend five to ten minutes talking about your day and whatever you were thinking about. Every second weekend you’d go out onto the fire escape with a plate of food and after a few minutes, you’d hear him climbing up. He ate and you rambled and both of you were incredibly happy with the arrangement. Over a span of half a year Jason started coming out of his shell more, by now your rambling had mostly turned into actual conversations and you got to know him just as well as he had gotten to know you. You also figured out that he was involved in some shady business, but you didn’t comment on it. Especially since one time, you had come to the alley with red cheeks and Jason knew you had been crying. Quickly he pulled you into his arms and during your first hug he calmly asked what had happened. When you had told him that there was this boy who had bullied you for how you lived, you had felt him tense up and you were sure you had done something wrong. You wanted to pull away, but Jason quickly relaxed again and pulled you closer. He told you that everything would be okay and that he’d protect you, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead while a rosy colour spread through his cheeks. Two days after the boy who had bullied you had a black eye and a broken arm and you didn’t see Jason until the following weekend when he arrived with bruises and a cut on his lip. Even with how young you were you knew what had happened, but you knew that Jason didn’t want you to mention it, so instead - when the familiar knock on the door came - you just kissed his cheek and whispered a ‘thank you' before going back inside. For these few months, Jason Todd was your best friend and in a way, your world revolved around him a lot. Even if you would never say it aloud you had to admit that sometimes when you were playing house with your friends you wondered if you and Jason would one day have little babies together. Before you could ask him though, he was gone. Just like that. One day he was there waiting in the alley and the next he was not. You stayed there for an hour in the pouring rain wondering where he was and had to stay home sick for a week after that much to your father's anger. You couldn’t tell him about your best friend, because you knew that Jason didn’t want someone to know about him so you just silently worried and cried at night. For four months you were in anguish and tried telling yourself that he couldn’t be… that he still had to be okay, that he was somewhere out there. On especially bad nights you tried making up stories of him going on great adventures and finally getting to do all those things he told you he wanted to do and all the stories ended with him coming back to you or taking you with him.

Only when you saw the newspaper on the couch a few weeks later that you started feeling angry at him for the first time. There he was, on the front cover in clothes so nice you had only seen them on TV and the arm of a kindly smiling man around him. He had been adopted by Bruce Wayne. You threw the newspaper back onto the couch and ran to the fire escape in anger. He had left you. He wouldn’t come back and get you. All these things he had told you, how he would protect you, how you were his best friend? All lies. He… He had left you behind.

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Years passed and you moved on with your life. You found new friends - even though you never came as close to anyone as you had with this boy on your fire escape - and you grew older and wiser, even though you still had the same kind and gentle heart you had all these years ago. After spending a week being angry at Jason you realized that you had no right to be. Would you really curse him for finally having a good life? Wasn’t that what you had always wanted for him? The realization that he didn’t need you to bring him food now because he was living in a mansion where he would have food for days made you happier than you had been in months. And so in your heart, you still felt Jason Todd to be your best friend and you were incredibly happy for him, and you felt lucky that you had gotten to know this incredible boy. Shortly after you reached the age of ten you promised yourself that you would do everything in your power to meet him again someday. You’d do well in school and you’d have a better life than your dad and you’d work your way upwards and then one day when you were both adults you’d stroll into his office and put a container of spaghetti and bread on his desk. Maybe then you could be best friends again. For two years you did your best to come closer to that goal and every time you saw a picture of Jason, now having grown quite a bit and slowly becoming a young adult, you felt the fire ignite a bit more. But on your twelve birthday, the flame died. You had been sitting in a small Diner with your Dad since it was your birthday tradition to have breakfast for dinner and as you were munching away on a stack of waffles one of the workers increased the volume of the TV hanging behind the counter and your food almost became stuck in your throat when you heard the news Anker. “Today we come to you with a sad message Gotham. Local Billionaire Bruce Wayne has just issued a press release announcing the sudden and unexpected death of his youngest son Jason Todd. All of Gotham is mourning for him and we wish the best to Mister Wayne and his family. More about this at-” You didn’t hear anything that came after that. Every sound around you, the clinking of plates and utensils, the chatter, the cars outside, your dad’s talking, the TV, it all just disappears. He was dead… he was gone. You would never see him again. Your best friend. No one ever knew the two of you were friends, your father certainly didn’t and you doubted his new one did. Would you be able to go to the funeral? They’d certainly think you’re just some crazy person and sent you away. There was so much you still had to tell him, you needed him to know that you weren’t angry, that you missed him, that you lo-

You snapped back into reality as your father snapped his fingers in front of your face and asked you if you were okay. You put on a false smile, luckily one that convinced him, and told him you were fine before continuing to eat. That night, for the first time in almost four years you fell asleep silently crying. Crying for your best friends, crying for the life he had lost and the one you hadn’t been able to share with him and you were crying for the dreams of reunion that would never come to fruition now.

After that it was like that flame that was once inside you was now suffocating you from inside. You still worked hard, you functioned, you did well in school, but you grew colder, more distant, more drawn-back. There was no driving force anymore, nothing you were working towards, just something you were working away from. It would have probably stayed that way until you slowly worked yourself to death if it hadn’t been for the death of your father four years later. You were just coming home from a long shift at work after an even longer day of school when you found him lying on the floor, cold, eyes wide open. You weren’t sure how you had managed to go on after that, but your neighbours had seen you grow up and considered you family and your father's friends were loyal even after death and they helped you organize a funeral, they helped you get a second job so that you could afford to keep living on in the apartment you had grown up in and they made sure you were cared for. You were pretty sure that ‘uncle Manny’, your father’s best friend, had threatened your landlord because he came to you with a bandaged hand telling you about how sorry he was and how he was going to reduce rent for you until you were out of school. Again, you just continued to function, whatever little life left in you slowly dispersing.

You would have probably ended up in a grave besides your father if it hadn’t been for what happened after his funeral. You were standing by his tombstone, dressed completely in black with a matching umbrella to shield you from the rain and just stared at the inscription of his name. That was all he was now, a name on a stone and a face on pictures. Just like Jason. All of a sudden you realized that the only two people you had ever really truly loved were gone, just memories, fragments of a time long passed. For the first time since the night of your father's death tears started gathering in your eyes and blurring your vision, you turned away not bearing to see his stone when something beside you caught your eye. No, it couldn’t be. It was impossible, he couldn’t be buried here. Jason Todd engraved in white stone stared right back at you and for a second it felt like he was really there with you, like he was standing beside you telling you that it was okay, that you had to go on, that you had to turn back into the little girl who gave her food away and who helped a little boy without even knowing his name. At that moment it was like an epiphany. The best months of your life were when you had Jason by your side and in these months you had helped him, so it would be the right thing to keep helping others like him, those in the crime alley who had no one else in his name. The spark inside you was small, tiny really, but it was a spark and it managed to ignite something within that had been thought dead for a long time. You had a sense of meaning again. Even as you wiped the tears away and realized that the gravestone read ‘Jared Scott’ and not his name, your decision stayed. This was a sign, a sign to keep going.

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You always felt a little bit ridiculous wearing this outfit. The Trenchcoat had originally been intended for safety against the cold and lots of storage room for medical supplies, but after a child had told you that it should be blue you had dyed it and the next time you had seen the kid he had given you a matching blue masquerade mask that covered your entire face (and that you were pretty sure was stolen) so you had no other choice but to put that on too. Next were the boots you got as a gift from a gig at a construction site you helped out on - heavy-duty ones that still made running easy - and finishing it all off was a simple black hoodie and pants along with the most important thing: the largest backpack you could afford. Every few days you filled the backpack with as much food and bottles of water it could hold (and you could afford, even if it meant you had to skip eating a few days) and started making your way through the crime alley. It didn’t take very long for you to find out about all the hotspots where the people who needed your help the most gathered. You didn’t care who they were or why they needed help, you just cared about how you could help them. Soon word has spread through the homeless community and those who might have a home but not a good one and people started approaching you for help. Often it was simply handing out food or blankets or clothes on the occasion that you had any that you could give away, but it also happened often that some would come to you beat up or hurt and they appreciated how you never asked questions. You just did what you could to patch them back up and send them on their way with a bottle of water and some food. After a young girl approached you with a shy look and asked if you had something to stop the bleeding you made sure that you had a few pockets filled with Pads, Tampons and pain meds. When a young kid approached you telling you he was thrown out for being gay you let him stay with you until you found a place for him in a local group home that you had made very sure treated its members well. When a man with a gun threatened to kill you for all your money you calmly took off your backpack, asked him how many people were waiting for him at home and gave him enough food and water for all of them. You told him the name of a local store clerk you had befriended and a codeword that would give him half off no questions asked and he hugged you crying and as he left, the gun now in your backpack, unloaded, he turned and asked you what he should call you. The answer came easy to you, after all, you were doing all of this in his name.

Jaybird.

He nodded, repeated the name and thanked you before he left and soon the stories about the kind samaritan who went by the name of Jaybird and helped those that no one else would help spread. They spread so much in fact that a few weeks after as you were doing your usual tours a woman approached you with a big trash bag. “Excuse me, are you Jaybird?” “Yes, that’s me, how can I help you?” you smiled at her kindly, she didn’t look like your usual clientele, but you had quickly learnt not to judge by appearance. It had happened before that women from stable houses approached you because of their abusive husbands and that you had considered using the gun that was now resting below your pillow. You never resorted to that though, instead, you helped them find a place to stay or you called a few people to intimidate her husband - thanks to the net of connections you had made because you didn’t care about a person's history. “Actually, I was wondering if I could help you. Listen, me and the folk in my house thought that you could use these, maybe get them to those who need them more than us?” She held out the trash back and you took it and looked inside. It was filled with clothes and toys here and there. You could feel your heart warming up. “Thank you so much, this is amazing, it’s really appreciated. Believe me.” “No, thank you for all that you do. My nephew was out on the streets just a few months ago and thanks to you he’s sleeping in a warm bed with a stomach full of food right now. You’re really a hero.” That was the first time you had been called a hero and the first time you denied that term. You weren’t a hero, you weren’t even a vigilante like the other people that shared the theme of flying animal names in this city. You were just a helper.

You were out on another tour through your usual routes when you came across a little boy with dishevelled black hair and dirty clothes and it was like seeing Jason all over again. Of course, you knew he wasn’t Jason, if Jason had still been alive he would be 22 now, not a little child in the middle of crime alley. Still, he looked so much like him back then. You crouched down to him and asked for his name. Alessandro. Not Jason. He seemed wary of you but he had heard of the lady in blue and a mask who helped people like him so when you held out your hand and asked him if he was hungry he slipped his small skinny one in yours and let you lead him to a nearby diner where he was completely astonished when you allowed him to order as much as he wanted. He was in the middle of his third plate, he started feeling a bit bad that he was eating so much while you were just there sitting - he hadn’t realized that you couldn’t eat without taking the mask off - but knowing that he had no idea when he could have the next meal like this made him keep going. All the while you were talking to someone on the phone, hoping that you could quickly find a good place for him, somewhere safe and sound. You didn’t trust the orphanages of the city and you didn’t trust the streets. The call ended and you told him that you’d be right back as you went to the slightly older lady behind the counter, you knew her well even though she didn’t know who you really were, she didn’t know that to you she was the same women who had turned a TV louder and changed your life completely almost seven years ago now. Over the time you had done this night job, she and you had come to an agreement. She was the safe haven. If you found children that young with nowhere to go, she took them in until you did find a place for them. That night she did the same for Alessandro. Her shift was over and you introduced the two of them. You promised Alessandro that she was nice and you saw in his eyes as soon as she told him that she hoped he’d have just as good of an appetite for breakfast because she was making her famous french toast, that he was delighted. Somewhere inside of you, you had a feeling that Alessandro may already have found a permanent home, but that would be a thing you’d wonder about some other time. You were conversing with the last waitress working after paying the bill, once again thankful for the two jobs you were working besides trying to get through college remotely when the door was kicked open roughly, the bell ringing like its life depended on it, and two men clad in ski-masks with large guns storming in. “EVERYONE HANDS UP NOW!” one of the men screamed and out of instinct, you pushed yourself in front of your waitress who couldn’t be older than you and was scared out of her mind. “Now, I’m sure we can solve this calmly, I have food if you want, there’s no need for-” you tried to calm them like you had done before in similar situations, but these guys weren’t having it. One moment you were talking, the next you were looking into the barrel of one of the guns. “You better shut your mouth right now, jaybird,” the name came out of his mouth in a condescending sneer and you were smart enough to know when you should listen to someone. “We don’t care about food, we just want the money. Now you can make yourself helpful, little wannabe hero and open the register to give us everything that’s inside.” With raised arms, you slowly walked towards the counter, not wanting to enrage these jerks further, but mentally you had decided that if you would make it out of this in one piece you would start taking the gun with you, so you could defend yourself and others when people were too stubborn to let them be talked with. You had just arrived at the register when the sound of glass shattering distracted the captors and smoke filled the room. Quickly you rushed back to where the waitress hopefully still stood as you tried not to flinch at the sound and flash of shots - hopefully just not in your direction. Luckily you managed to find the girl and quickly pulled her back behind the counter, backs pressed against it and your arm protectively around her to shield her as much as possible. You could hear the grunts and sounds of a fight and you really hoped that those two douchebags weren’t the ones winning. Slowly the smoke dispersed and you could see clearly again when with two slams the sounds ended except for the sound of breathing, you dared to peek over the top of the counter. You couldn’t see the two ski-mask wearers but who you did see were two figures you hadn’t expected to see in your lifetime, you recognized them immediately. Standing there were the Red Hood and Nightwing. You quickly pulled down again. Should you just wait until they leave? Should you say something? “That must have been the last of them, no diversions left,” one of the vigilantes said with a sound of satisfaction in his voice, “You can come out now, all danger averted.” Okay, this was definitely directed towards you. Knowing that you had done nothing wrong you nodded at the girl beside you and the two of you stood up, slowly. Nightwings mask rose slightly as you imagined his eyebrows did as well under it at the sight of you. You couldn’t see Red Hood’s expression under the helmet. “...And you are?” a slightly digital voice asked from the helmet and you felt the need to make sure your mask was still on right, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Something about him… “That’s Jaybird,” the waitress piqued up for you and to both of your surprise, Nightwing started laughing and slapping Red Hood's shoulder. “Think you can sue her for copyright infringement?” “Shut up!” The two of them bantered and you had not the slightest idea what exactly they were talking about. Out of nowhere both of the heroes looked slightly to the side with tilted heads as if they were listening to something and before you could get a word in, Nightwing gave you a mock salute and started walking backwards. “Well, it was nice to meet you jaybird, maybe we’ll see you around.” With that, both of them were gone and as the sound of approaching police cars filled the night you said your own goodbyes, after making sure the criminals were secured enough for the police to be able to take them into custody.

After that, you saw Red Hood a lot more often. You weren’t too sure what to think of him. After all, you knew about his own criminal backstory and you had never agreed with his view of punishing crime with death, but after he had changed sides again you reconsidered. He had shown change and just like with the people you helped, you would never question a second chance. Still, it was slightly uncanny how much you saw him after that day in the diner. You knew he spent a lot of time in crime Alley to help out, more than most of the other vigilantes, but it still felt a bit excessive. Sometimes while you were walking your routes you saw him standing there on the rooftops looking around, like he was searching for someone. Weeks passed and you saw him almost every second time you were out, slowly the two of you started to build a silent bond over what you two did, you never actually spoke but you’d find supplies on your usual routes and he’d nod towards you when he caught sight of you and more than once did those who came to you with ill intent suddenly get pulled away from you, but it was a long time before you spoke to him again. You were just finished dressing someone's burn wound and making sure they had something to eat when you heard a ‘thud’ behind you. Somehow you knew who it was behind you. “Why did you choose that name?” his slightly robotic voice asked and you cocked your head a little. “It’s like a memorial, it reminds me of the reason I’m doing all of this.” You turned around and looked at him, his head cocked in thought as he stayed silent. How long this would take, you didn’t know. Without warning, he reached up and took off his helmet and even with his domino mask still on you saw that he was rather handsome, the white streak in his hair framing his aura in an encapsulating way. This feeling was back, this something that you had felt back in the diner. After what must have been almost five minutes of staring, masked eyes into masked eyes, the man spoke up again. “What is the reason?” You weren’t sure if you should tell him, after all, why would he care, right? But then again what would it change, there was no one alive who knew of your connection with Jason, so there was no way to trace it back to you. Something made you want to tell him. “His name was Jason, he was my-” you stopped yourself. That was already too much. There was nothing left that you could tell him. You sighed and shook your head, attempting to turn around and leave when the vigilantes grasped your wrist and pulled you back. “What is it?” You were thankful for the mask at that moment, because even though your voice was levelled and you could get it to sound slightly annoyed, the fact that you somehow ended up with your body flush against his very, very attractive one made you almost a little weak in your knees. Quite honestly after Jason - even though you were only a child back then - you had never had the warm feeling inside your heart again with any other person, never again did you daydream about playing house or rather living ‘house’ with someone. At least until now. His head was angled towards yours and even with the mask, you could feel his intense gaze on you, as if he could see right through your mask and into your soul. One of his arms somehow found his way around your waist to keep you steady and the other wandered upwards until it hovered just under your mask. His intentions were obvious, but it was as if he was waiting for permission. You should draw back. You should stay strong. You should insist on the mask staying on. But you didn’t. Why didn’t you? Instead, you just waited, silently answering his unspoken question and seconds later the mask was gone and the cold air gently blew on your face. You wondered what would happen next? Would he tell your secret? Would he tell you to quit? Would he kiss you? Wait, what? You didn’t know this man, he was a complete stranger to you, why did you feel so familiar with him. As if he wanted to fulfil your unthought wish, his gloved hand cradled your cheek and you had to do all you could not lean into his palm. He spoke up, much softer than before, much quieter too. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for so long but I’m back and I still intend to keep my promise to protect you.” Before you could really process his words, his lips landed on your forehead and it was like you were back in that alley all those years ago with…him? No, no it couldn’t be. You drew back in shock, talking a few steps away from him, your hands before your mouth and your eyes full of tears. “No, this is impossible, you-you can’t be him.” “I’m so sorry I never came back to you Y/N, believe me, I always wanted to, I wanted to come back and give you all the spaghetti and bread you wanted, but this life- I was so afraid that you’d be pulled into it.” Your heartbeat was probably thrice as fast as it should as you heard these things. He had wanted to come back too? More importantly - he was really him. “Jason,” you sobbed out and immediately rushed back into his arms, mumbling about how much you missed him and incoherent nonsense and he just held you, slowly rubbing your back with one hand and petting your hair with the other. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m back with you, I came back.” After you had finally managed to stop your crying you slowly drew back, this time not making any attempt to get out of his hold, somehow even after all these years it calmed you immensely like it was the most natural thing to be held by him. “How did you come back? You were dead, the media said you died. I thought you were dead, I thought you-” left me, were the words that didn’t make it out of your mouth, but Jason knew they were coming. “I’m so sorry, I- I’m just sorry, I promise I’ll explain everything, but I want you to know that I always planned to come back to you one day, to repay you for your kindness-” now his eyes wandered downwards towards your lips and you felt your heart flutter, “-but right now I want to do something that I wanted to do for an even longer time.” Your eyes shut slowly as he moved towards you until his lips landed on yours, they felt rough and coarse but somehow it was the best feeling you had ever felt in the world. As his mouth moved against yours you suddenly realized that it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he should be dead, it didn’t matter that he was a vigilante, it didn’t matter that left you for so long. It only mattered that he was back. And it mattered when he softly mumbled into your neck and promised that he would never leave you behind again.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #batfam #dc universe #dc x reader #jason todd #red hood #x reader #oneshot #angst #fluff #angst and fluff #tw:depression #tw: death #tw: homelessness #tw: homophobia

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