#Past Catherine Todd/Jason Blood

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Five Stages of Mamma Mia

Fandom: Batfam, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Catherine Johnson is Jason's bio mom and Jason doesn't know who his father is. (Jason Todd is Jason Johnson for fic reasons).

Chapters: 19/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Jason Blood, Catherine Todd Mention, Bruce Wayne, Willis Todd Mention

Relationship(s): Past Catherine Todd/Jason Blood, Past Catherine Todd/Bruce Wayne, Past Catherine Todd/Willis Todd

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Mamma Mia-inspired AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Father-Son Relationship(s), Jason Todd Experiences the Five Stages of Grief

Chapter Nineteen: Chiquitita (Bargaining)

As summer concluded, Mr. Blood helped Jason get dressed for Bruce's benefit dinner. "I hate bowties too, but I can't say you don't look dapper," Mr. Blood complimented as he fitted Jason's cumberbund over his suspenders. Jason hadn't smiled the entire day and spent most of that time hidden away in his room. After Mr. Blood fitted the cumberbund, he tied Jason's tie. Forest green velvet with gold trim. He wanted Jason to look his best. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared," Jason mumbled. Mr. Blood picked Jason up as if he were a small child. He thought it'd make Jason laugh. Mr. Blood's heart sank when Jason threw his arms around his neck.

"You should be worried about out-dressing him," Mr. Blood casually whispered as he set Jason down. He gave Mr. Blood a puzzled look. "You heard me. Think of all those silly-looking adults drinking wine and making fools of themselves... And then there's you... All dressed up, sober, and absolutely charming. He'll be proud."

Jason let out a relieved laugh. "Yeah?" Jason asked.

"Yeah!" Mr. Blood nodded. He playfully shook Jason.

"Yeah!" Jason shouted excitedly. Mr. Blood laughed and helped Jason into his jacket. Jason held Mr. Blood's hand as they left the room and headed downstairs. "Do you think Bruce missed me this week?"

"Are you joking? Time away from the best boy in the world? It's dreadful!" Mr. Blood exclaimed. Jason giggled as they got in the car. "Before we get there, I want to go over the plan. Before dinner is the silent auction, and since I still owe you a gift for making the honor roll, you can have me bid on three items of your choice. Then, there's the song and dance of mingling before dinner. After dinner, there's dessert and a little touch of dancing." Jason nodded.

"Will I have to dance?" Jason questioned. Mr. Blood shook his head.

"And I think your brother might be there," Mr. Blood added. Jason grinned and swung his feet.

When they arrived at the manor, Mr. Blood grabbed his bidding paddle, and Jason clung to him. "Where's B?" Jason whispered.

"He has to greet some of his guests. It's customary—."

Jason jumped as he felt a pair of hands cover his eyes. "Dick?" Jason asked.

"Hey, Kid. You look snazzy," Dick smiled as Jason jumped into his arms. Dick embraced him and straightened Jason's jacket. "Bruce is gonna be thrilled. Mind if I drop in next to you for the auction? I love watching rich people fight," Dick smiled. Jason nodded, and Bruce entered the room to announce the start of the auction. He stopped mid-sentence to wave at Jason. Jason waved back with a sheepish grin. The auction was two hours long, and Mr. Blood bid on a private museum tour, a family camping trip, and dance lessons. Jason was overjoyed.

After the auction, the real fun began. Mr. Blood and Dick took turns with Jason, mingling among the crowd. "How old are you?" one of the women asked.

"Twelve, but I'll be thirteen next month," Jason replied innocently.

"And where's your mother and father tonight? I have to commend them for having such a smartly-dressed son," she whispered as she pinched his cheek. He frowned.

"Well, uh... My mom's not—. I'm—."

"Unconventional family situation. He's my little brother, but a friend of Bruce's also has custody from time to time," Dick answered. Jason nodded. Bruce wandered over and stepped back to take Jason in.

"We have got to take a picture. Where's Jay—? Mr. Blood?" Bruce asked. Jason grabbed Bruce's hand and stood on his tiptoes. Bruce crouched down to hear him.

"Dad's talking to an old student," Jason whispered. Bruce nodded and squeezed Jason's hand. "Do you want me to go and get him?"

Bruce looked at Mr. Blood from a distance and chewed his lip. "Um, I think Dick will go get him... Won't you?" Bruce asked. Dick nodded and walked off. "I'm so glad you came."

"I missed you," Jason declared. Bruce lit up, smiling from ear to ear as he hugged Jason.

"I missed you too," Bruce replied, "How've you been?"

"Good, I got enrolled in a middle school... A public one," Jason replied, "I start in two weeks."

"I know. Mr. Blood told me all about it. Are you excited?" Bruce questioned as a photographer approached. "Say cheese."

"Cheese!" Jason smiled while he held onto Bruce's hand. Bruce let go after the picture and whispered something to the photographer. She nodded. Bruce waved Dick and Mr. Blood over. They took a family picture, and Jason held his fathers' hands before they all returned to mingling.

Finally, dinnertime came, and they served Jason a large bowl of red soup. "Bruce, what's this?" Jason asked. Bruce shrugged.

"Try it, and I'll tell you," Mr. Blood replied. Jason obeyed and took a deep breath after his first spoonful. "Do you want something else—."

"Nuh-uh. It's spicy," Jason replied. Bruce grinned.

Dick picked over his chicken and ate his potatoes while Jason practically drank his soup. "Boiled fish soup," Mr. Blood whispered.

When the dancefloor opened up, Jason was slumped forward on the table in a deep sleep. A photographer snapped pictures of Bruce and Mr. Blood doting on him before getting a photograph of Bruce carrying Jason to his room. Jason stirred and smacked his lips. "Did you ever find out?" Jason mumbled. Bruce tried to pretend he couldn't hear him. "Am I yours? You had my blood... I know you had to check. I won't be mad." He set Jason down on the steps, and Jason laid his head on Bruce's shoulder.

"I did check... But I didn't want to know. I threw out the results before they were processed. Jason, I love you. Isn't that—?"

"If I'm not yours, would you stop loving me?" Jason questioned.

"Of course not. Jason, no matter what, Mr. Blood and I will always be your fathers," Bruce reassured him.

"Then I want to know. Please, Bruce?" Jason begged. Mr. Blood met them in the hall, and Bruce beckoned him. "Can we please find out now?"

Bruce nodded, and the three of them went to the cave. Jason sat at the foot of the infirmary bed, swinging his feet as Bruce took a cheek swab. Mr. Blood stood with his back turned. He was so nervous he couldn't bear to look. "Dad?" Jason whispered.

"Yes, Lamb?" Mr. Blood replied.

"I'm not gonna cry no matter what," Jason reassured him. Mr. Blood nodded as tears fell from his eyes. He didn't want Jason to see him crying. Bruce did his own cheek swab and processed the samples. Bruce couldn't look as the computer printed the results several minutes later.

"Jason, I'm sorry," Bruce whispered as he walked away from the computer. "I can't look." Jason nodded and took the results, reading them for himself.

Jason sat quietly for a while with the results in his hands, and he choked back tears. After several minutes of silence, he typed something in on the computer. "Jason?" Bruce asked.

Jason pushed past Bruce and Mr. Blood. Once he reached his room, he collapsed. Dick was the first to find him.

[setokaibapetty]

5 + 1 Fic Friday Roundup: Surprise Relative

Some fics where a surpise blood relation pops up. Like, sometimes the guy who raised you was lying about being your dad, sometimes a Pit gives you a baby, etc.

Imprint (AO3) - "He screwed his eyes shut, held his breath, desperately wished that he was back in his safehouse, alone and blissfully unaware. But the weight in his hands remained, and when he opened his eyes, it was to the bean-shaped 'fuck you' the Lazarus Pit had kindly bestowed upon him, arms and legs folded up against his front beneath off-white muslin while tiny lips smacked softly.'

Red Blood, Blue Blood (AO3) - "Jason Todd was living a very ordinary life in Crime Alley before his mother gets sick. Then, suddenly, Jason and Catherine have to grapple with the secret everyone has known since Jason was born with black hair and blue eyes—Willis Todd wasn't his biological father. Bruce Wayne is, and not only is he the richest man in Gotham, he has three other children who may not be glad to have an interloper in their midst."

Going Off-Book (AO3) - "Dick winces. “Tim, meet Damian Wayne. Apparently, his mom told him who his dad was when he turned eighteen and the first thing he did after finding out was enroll in the nearest police academy. He served for a couple of years and just arranged a transfer here from Metropolis.” He directs a pleading gaze at Tim. “Like I said, Bruce had to go out of town for a while, but he asked me to show Damian the ropes. Tim, I’m sorry, but—"

when the dead tree flowers (AO3) - "It wasn't solely Jango Fett's DNA that went into making Domino Squad. Palpatine had other plans for them. Thankfully, so does their second genetic donor, and he has just as few qualms about murder as a Sith Lord."

Open Arms (AO3) - "The story starts when Quinlan get's a call from the hospital; an old girlfriend has given birth and named him the father, leaving the baby at the hospital. This triggers a series of events that bring Fox back into contact with his bio family, who he is not as distant from as he might like to think."

Bonus: welcome all your bastard actions home (AO3) - "Daenerys had arrived at Winterfell three days past, a great host of dragons and roses and suns and krakens, clearly expecting Jon -- the King in the North, as uneasy that title rests on his shoulders -- to bend the knee. Instead, he takes her to the crypts to speak of ancient history."

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

“Do you want to dance?”

Damian looked up from his perch on the the building’s ledge at the voice that startled him.

Lazarus eyes and white hair that flickered candle at the tips. He gently swayed in the air to the song the band on the stage set high above the park.

When the family had heard rumors early in October of a city wide haunted party that was to take place on Halloween night, they were all on high alert.

The thought of the dead being brought back and raising hell on the streets constantly on mind and in the possibility of rouges ruining the night close behind.

Until they met Phantom.

“It seems that the party is what one would call a success.”

Danny hummed as he joined the bird on the rooftop,

“Thank the ancients for that. Has there been anything suspicious?”

“Nothing abnormal,”

Damian glanced at his family participating in the crowds. Richard swung from Greyson to Greyson, with each twirl and flip through the air a smile graced his face. The three Greysons once again in the air together.

“though with how badly you intimidated the villains I can not particularly blame them for mostly hiding away.”

Danny snickered as Damian found Jason twirling around one who he could assume to be Catherine Todd looking like a fool.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? Being the King of all afterlife has some perks.”

The young king sighed as another song came to a close,

“But seriously, why aren’t you having fun? We worked out butts off to have tonight go down flawlessly yet you haven’t joined the rest.”

The Drakes were chatting to the side under an elm, the faint glow of the Specters bounced off the old camera around his neck.

Come morning the prints would most likely deteriorate into nothing but blurs but the sentiment was there.

“So,” Danny cocked his head to the side “penny for your thoughts?”

Bruce waltzed with Damian’s grandparents with this adoration in his eyes that made Damian look away, into the eyes of the silent monarch.

“It just felt.. crass for me to join the festivities. I was an assassin, a trained killer once. I have blood on my hands and I did not want to cause a stir.”

“You act as though you are the only person here tonight that has blood on your hands. In your family alone assassin trained in not an minority.”

“Even still, I am not clean, I have killed hundreds and still have troubles holding myself back at times, it could cause unnecessary stress on your subjects,”

Damian sighed,

“before my father’s absence the only death I had encountered were the targets and the people who ‘failed’ in the league for one reason or another. I never had to grieve, and those who I know that perished most likely would not have been allowed in this visit anyways.”

“Even still, there is no reason to mope. You can’t help who you come from little birdy. What matters is that you have came to terms with your past actions are are working hard to make up for them.”

Damian glanced back to the ghost as he felt a cold hand mesh with his.

Surprisingly, he did not seem to mind.

The two sat like that in silence as the gleeful participants continued on unaware.

“You know, for what it’s worth… I have had a blast in Gotham with you these last few weeks. If the high king of the infinite realm can look over your upbringing than I think you might be selling yourself short Robin.

“Damian,”

“Oh?”

“My- my name is Damian.”

The ghost let out in an unnecessary breath before a gentle smile graced his lips,

“Alright Damian, my name is Danny. Would you care for a dance?”

Put your head on my shoulder

[thesandsofelsweyr]

THE CLIMB

《 CHAPTER 3/? // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

My reimagining of how Jason escaped Arkham Asylum and ended up in Venezuela (Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 5 Retelling)

《RATING》 Unrated 《CATEGORY》 Gen 《WORDS》 2,467

《CHARACTERS》 Jason Todd, Slade Wilson, Original Male Character, Joker (mentioned), Bruce Wayne (mentioned), Catherine Todd (mentioned), Willis Todd (mentioned)

《TROPES》 Angst, Whump, Fix-It

《WARNINGS》 Implied/Referenced Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Injury, Head Injury, Delirium, Hallucinations, Flashbacks, Near Death Experiences, Suicidal Thoughts, Past Child Abuse, Swearing

《SERIES》 Part 6 of My Arkhamverse

《NOTES》

This was my first time writing Slade Wilson for public consumption so special thanks to @nonbinaryjaybird and dak for beta-ing this chapter.

If you enjoy the read please kudos, comment, and reblog 🧡

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

Jason stops dead in his tracks, paralyzed by the terror that cuts through him like the Clown’s scalpel. That wasn’t the voice of another ghost. That was real. He’d been so lost in his delusions that he hadn’t heard the makeshift trap door creak open or the heavy bootsteps descending the unfinished concrete staircase, approaching him. Panic grips his chest with a gauntleted fist, squeezing all the air from his lungs. Two bright beams of light pierce the darkness, illuminating him like a deer in headlights. 

“No…” His pitiful whimper catches in his throat. Any courage he’d regained from facing certain death had been sucked out of him the instant he heard that voice. How could he have been so careless? This is why I was left here to rot. This is why I was replaced. He should’ve known the Clown would never let him creep through these halls unprotected. He’d never let his prized plaything slip from his grip. His master will make him suffer for this.

He throws up a trembling arm over his face to shield his stinging eyes from the flashlights that are blinding him. His heart is galloping in his chest, racing toward that trap door that is now blocked by the pair of shadowy figures. He tightens his grip on the wall to keep himself from falling to his knees and begging these flesh-and-blood specters for mercy.

The faulty emergency floodlight flickers on again, the shadows rescind, and two living, breathing men emerge from the murk. They’re dressed in GCPD tactical gear, with helmets on and masks pulled up over their faces, hiding everything but their eyes. The larger of the two has a black patch over his right eye.

Jason licks his ragged lips with a parched tongue. He needs to explain; he has to make them understand. “This-this isn’t what it looks like,” he pleads desperately as nervous fingers pluck at his orange jumpsuit. Cold sweat drips down the sides of his face. “I wasn’t trying to escape, I swear. I-I was just thirsty. Please, it’s been days…”

The smaller of the pair pulls down his mask, revealing the round face of a kid not much older than he is; a face he doesn’t recognize. The kid’s thin lips skin back in disgust at the sight of Jason. “That’s the Batman’s partner?” he scoffs with a hint of an accent, looking Jason up and down with dark eyes. He slings his rifle over his shoulder, clearly unimpressed by the filthy, starved ex-sidekick who can barely stand. “Didn’t we just see him with another kid?”

Jason’s heart sinks and he has to choke back a sob. He’s here. He’s here and he’s close and he still didn’t come for me. He still doesn’t care. Warm tears pool in his eyes, but that other part of him refuses to let them fall. “You knew that already, dipshit. It’s past ‘time to face facts’ and man up. You’re steps away from freedom. You know the count. You counted plenty of times. Get the hell out of here.”

The taller man with the broad shoulders and the eye patch steps up to Jason, his one blue eye appraising him. Jason drops his own paler blue eyes to the floor like he’d been trained to do. “Looks like the Bat’s got a spare. Helluva retirement.”

Jason’s blood goes cold: they know who I am. Then his mind catches. That was an old fear, one instilled in him by Batman. Who the fuck cares anymore? He’s a nobody now. Just another plaything left to rot in the Clown’s funhouse. He idly wonders if these goons had dropped by to torture him on Joker’s invitation and he didn’t remember them. There are lots of stretches he doesn’t remember. Probably for the best. 

“Sorry kid, it’s nothing personal,” Cyclops drawls, and Jason hears the sound of a gun pulling free from its holster. “But don’t worry, I’ll make it quick. I wanna get back to all the shows I DVR’d, and my compadre here wants to get laid. Now, down on your knees like a good boy so we can get this over with.”

Jason glances up, and his brow wrinkles in confusion. “You’re here to… kill me?” he asks, incredulous. His brain’s still mush, and the ringing in his ears and the pounding headache aren’t helping him make sense of what’s happening here. 

“Yep,” Cyclops replies as he motions impatiently at Jason with his gun—a wordless reminder that he wants Jason down on his knees. “Your friend the Clown pays really well.”

Jason gapes at the gun and then back at the man holding the gun. “He-he wants me dead?” he asks dumbly. That doesn’t sound right. If the Clown really wanted him dead, he wouldn’t send an assassin to put a bullet in the back of his head, to give him a clean, quick death. No, when the time’s right, Joker will use his own hands and savor every single agonizing second. He’ll peel the skin from my bones, saw off my arms and legs, cut open my stomach, then rip out my guts while I watch. He’ll make me beg and beg and beg for death, and I’ll suffer until my last breath. A wave of nausea rolls through him, and he bites down on his tongue to silence a whimper.

“Uh-huh. Gave me a generous down payment to get rid of the secret prisoner he’d stashed down here. That’d be you.”

Cyclops’ words hit him like a punch to the gut. “Oh,” he says in a tiny voice. His head droops between his sagging shoulders. In the end, even Joker didn’t want him. How does someone fail at suffering? How useless am I? A stifled sob escapes his tight throat before he can swallow it down. He never thought the Clown could hurt him more than he had with all of his toys. No one in the world wanted him now. No one in the world would ever want him. Why the hell am I still alive? He still doesn’t understand what he did to deserve any of this. He fucked up, sure. Fucked up a lot. But he’d tried his best to be good for his mom, for Bruce, even for Willis… even for Joker. Yet, in the end, every one of them abandoned him. “...thrown you away like an unwanted puppy.” Sorrow and despair wring out his heart, and like the weak little coward he is, he breaks down and bawls. He welcomes the bullet this man has waiting for him. He’s ready for the sad story of his life to finally end. He doesn’t even feel like breathing anymore, so he just slumps against the wall and lets his broken body slide to the floor; a useless heap of meat.

“Wait, is he crying?” The kid aims a kick at his sore ribs, and he moans as he doubles over. “At least die like a man.”

“That kid’s got a point, you worthless waste of space,” Robin sneers, disgusted.

Cyclops kneels in front of him, and he can’t help but shrink back; a learned response from over a year of non-stop abuse. He keeps his eyes trained on the black and white floor tiles. “So it’s true, then? You were Batman’s partner?”

Being reminded of the man he thought had loved him, the man who’d replaced him without so much as a second thought, hurts like another kick in the ribs, and a broken sob shakes his cadaverous body. Then that sob’s sucked back in when a heavy hand seizes his jaw, thick fingers digging painfully into his thin flesh. His face is yanked up, and his eyes go wide as his body stiffens. “Answer me,” Cyclops demands cooly, a cold flame burning behind his one blue eye.

“Yes sir,” Jason hears himself reply out of habit and cringes. His training runs deep. Like Pavlov’s dog, but with crowbars and cattle prods in place of the bell. His tongue flicks at one of the empty holes in his gums—one of the punishments for his bad manners—before his eyes fall back to the floor. 

Cyclops releases his jaw. “I’ll be damned,” he laughs as he straightens. “I remember this little punk,” he gestures at Jason with his gun. “Always running at the mouth, never knew when to shut the hell up. The Clown must’ve taught him some manners. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, eh?” He holsters his gun. “Guess it’s your lucky day, Boy Wonder,” he says, grabbing Jason up by his scrawny bicep, as if he weighs no more than a doll. “I’m in the mood to gamble so you get to live a little while longer.”

The man’s words slowly sink into his sluggish brain, then the stomach-churning realization takes hold: these men are taking him away from here, away from his home, away from his master. Jason tries to twist away, but Cyclops’ broad fist is locked around his upper arm, tight as a vise. “I-I can’t leave here,” he squeaks as terror mounts inside him with each hobbled step. “He’ll think I escaped!”

“He? Who’s he?” the kid asks. “The lunatic who locked you up down here?”

“You-you don’t understand,” he stammers on, “what he’ll do to me when he finds me.” Or would he? Does he even still care enough to punish him one last time? The Clown’s threat echoes in his ear, prickling the little hairs on the nape of his neck as if the creep’s looming over him: “I’ll have more than teeth and fingernails to add to your little scrapbook.” Jason can’t risk it. He can’t face that agony again. That humiliation… that mutilation… 

The floodlight flickers off and on again: a portent, a promise of pain. Goosebumps erupt all over his wan flesh. “Not my problem,” Cyclops says dryly as he drags him along toward the stairwell. Towards the exit. Towards freedom. The stairwell doorway yawns open, a dark maw waiting to swallow him; to chew him up then spit him out, like every other time he tried to reach that salvation beyond.

Icy dread sinks its teeth into him, sending a chill skittering down his spine. This has to be another game. He loves his fucking games. And it wouldn’t be the first time Joker recruited others to play with his toy. He thinks I’ll go with them, he warns himself, remembering Dr. Haywood. The ‘J’ on his cheek tingles. He wants to hurt me again, like he did before I became his partner. He wants to punish me. He wants to… he wants…

“Attention!”

His terror takes control. A burst of adrenaline surges through his veins, and he wrenches his skinny arm out of Cyclops’ iron grip. Then he bolts: half-sprinting, half-limping back towards the safety of his cell. His shattered ankle screams in agony, but he’s so crazed by fear that he’s barely fazed. Besides, that excruciating pain lancing up his leg is a mere bee sting compared to what the Clown will do to him for failing this test. He’ll break my other ankle. He’ll break every bone in my body before he… he… Jason clenches his jaw full of broken teeth, wide eyes fixed on the hallway, and his cell beyond. His heavy breathing is torturous beneath his splintered ribs, but he doesn’t dare stop. He’ll curl up in his corner and await whatever punishment he has to endure for leaving his cage. He’ll show his master that he’s loyal. He’ll prove he can be a good partner…

A deafening boom thunders through the narrow corridor, drowning out all other sounds, then searing pain explodes in his shoulder as the bullet tears through that abused tissue. He cries out as his knees buckle and he collapses. Blood’s bubbling up through his jumpsuit. He wraps his shaking hand around the wound, pressing down on it to try and staunch the bleeding. Hot blood seeps through the cracks between his fingers. He tries to push himself back up on his feet so he can keep fleeing, but his knees give way and he falls flat on his face with a grunt. Undeterred, he pulls himself down the hallway, clawing at the tile with his free hand, slithering over the dirty floor, leaving a trail of blood beneath him like a gigantic slug.

He hears a deep chuckle as the two men leisurely stroll up to him. Then a strong hand is under his arm, hauling him to his feet, ending his comically feeble escape attempt as soon as it began.

“Look, kid,” Cyclops explains in his ear as he steadies him. “You’ve got two options: the easy way or the hard way. You can start walking, or I’ll put the next one in your knee and drag your ass out of here. Either way, you’re coming with us.”

“What? You’re bringing him with us? I thought you had a deal with this Clown guy.”

“This kid’s got some valuable secrets. The kind of secrets that your kind of people will pay a helluva lot more for than 2 million bucks. And by the looks of him, the Clown’s already loosened his tongue for us. Never had much faith in that pasty-faced psycho anyway.”

“Crazy Yanqui,” the kid spits. “The Dons won’t give you a dime for this rat bitch. C’mon. Finish the job, and let’s get the hell outta here. I’m freezing my nuts off in this city.”

Cyclops ignores his sidekick, and shoves Jason forward, nearly sending him sprawling. He stumbles ahead, jarring his ankle again. This time the pain is blinding and he yelps. He sucks in a gasp through gritted teeth as he regains his balance. 

He weakly shuffles ahead as he grips his bleeding shoulder, panting as he goes. Every other hobbled step earns him a rough prod from Cyclops. Without the fog of fear clouding his addled mind, it’s obvious once again that he’s on death’s doorstep. He glances up again at the dark stairwell only steps away and he can’t help but giggle. “That’s more like it, you pathetic fuck.” His giggle balloons into laughter, and soon he’s cackling as hysterically as the Clown. He can’t help it. It’s so fucking funny. These men are dragging him out of this pit. His suffering is finally at an end, but he’s not gonna make it past the trap door he tried to reach so many times before because he’s about to drop dead. His side starts to ache from his boisterous laughter.

“He’s lost his mind,” the kid comments, but it’s only a soft echo in his blood-starved brain. Jason takes another step, then the ground tilts up to meet his face.

Darkness.

[darker-dc-dimensions]

Jason Todd

Arkham Locked

Emojis used: ⚰️🧪

(this image is just a placeholder for now)

General Information

 First name: Jason

Middle name(s): Peter

Surname: Todd

Age: somewhere around 19-20

Date of birth: August 16

Race: Mixed. Hispanic on his mother’s side. Catherine was also Hispanic.

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Current residence: Arkham Asylum, the street

Relationship status: Single

Social status: unknown at this point

Universe (AU universe of origin): Arkham Locked

 Traits of Voice

 Accent (if any): Crime alley accent

Language spoken: English

Other languages known: Spanish, Russian, French, German, Japanese, Cantonese, Turkish, Arabic, League of assassin’s dialect, Mandarin, Latin, Portuguese, Hebrew, Thai, Vietnamese, Kryptonian (the basics), Ancient Greek, Sign language. (Most taught to him by Bruce Wayne)

Volume of voice: speaks at a very low volume, mumbling and whispering most of the time when he finally does speak.

 Physical Appearance

 Height: 6´0

Eye colour: Bright Lazarus green

Skin colour: Pale from lack of sunlight for a very long amount of time

Distinguishing features: His eyes as they are an almost glowing green. The scars littering his body, autopsy scars, a J carved into his cheek, the white part in his hair.

Build of body: Hes tall and skinnier than he was in the past as red hood, this comes form lack of food, drink, and sleep. He’s been starved for a longer time in Arkham, but the Lazarus pit keeps him muscular to some degree.

Hair colour: Black with a white tuft in the front. Used to have dark red hair as a kid but started coloring it at around 9. It became naturally black after the Lazarus pit.

Hair style: a medium length hairstyle, mainly because he hasn’t had a haircut in a while. Its not too long but it gets in his eyes, curls around his ears, and runs down his neck. Shaggy and dirty hair.

Tattoos: None

Piercings: Has his ears pierced but hasn’t worn them in a long time

Typical clothing: The Arkham inmate uniform, a stained white t-shirt underneath. Scuffed black shoes. All his clothes are stained with mainly dry blood.

Is seen by others as: A mindless bloodthirsty beast, though Jason is mostly tame if you don’t attack him first. A killer with little care for others existence, but in reality, Jason doesn’t even go out of his way to kill he just relies in his instincts.

 Health

 Sleeping habits: Sleeps very little because sleeping means you are vulnerable

Energy level: Has a medium energy level, since the Lazarus pit keeps him going

Eating habits: Eats whatever they are given at Arkham. After getting out he just eats whatever he comes across, eats human flesh as well.

Memory: He remembers picture perfectly, which only fuels the fear and anger making the Lazarus pit even more powerful. His perfect memory makes him remember all the horrible things done to him clearly as well.

Any unhealthy habits: too many honestly, starving himself, extreme insomnia, self-harming, etc.

 Relationships

 Parents: Willis Todd (birth parent), Catherine Todd (Step mother), Sheila Haywood (Birth parent), Bruce Wayne (Adoptive Father)

Siblings: Dick Grayson (adopted), Tim Drake (Adopted), Damian Wayne (Adopted), Cassandra Caine (Adopted), Duke Thomas (Adopted), Stephanie Brown (Adopted), Jean-Paul Valley (Adopted in spirit but not on paper)

Any enemies (and why): Too many, the Batfam (though its mainly only Bruce since the others don’t know he’s alive), multiple gang leaders, etc.

Children: none

Friends: none

Best friend(s): Used to be best friends with a guy named Ji Yeong, but they haven’t been in much contact since Jason was taken in by Bruce and lost contact after Jason died.

Important friends/relatives (explain): doesn’t have any

Love interest (if there is one): he used to have a crush on Ji Yeong when they were kids and up until he died, nowadays Jason doesn’t focus on feelings much anymore.

 Combat

 Peaceful or violent: He’s peaceful for the most part as long as you leave him alone.

Weapon (if applicable): Mainly his hands and teeth. Uses super strength and the abilities given by the Lazarus pit to fight.

Style of fighting: Its more compared to an animal than any kind of real fighting knowledge, there’s some style in there after being trained by Bruce and the League of assassins, but he relies mainly on instinct and the Lazarus pit.

 Others

 Occupation: unemployed

Current home: Arkham asylum, where he can sleep when he’s out.

Favourite types of food: Tamales, Elotes, Birria (most kinds tbh), most stews and soups, Shakshuka

Favourite types of drink: Carbonated drinks of most kinds. Hot chocolate (specifically the one Alfred makes)

Hobbies/past times: Doesn’t have any hobbies at this point, likes to recite poems and books he’s read to himself under his breath as it helps ground him.

Guilty pleasures: Fast food, the greasier the better. Street food.

Pet peeves: When people try to touch or grab him. Having to speak too much or focus too hard.

Pets: doesn’t have any pets.

Favourite colours: red, Lazarus green.

[shadows-of-a-memory]

jason todd

back to gotham masterlist

romantic

one-shots

none yet

series

sisters by blood (sweat, and tears)

(ouat!crossover) (oc used) there’s a few things the tv show got wrong, as all shows are wont to do, with the story of emma swan and the inhabitants of storybrooke. one major plot point: emma wasn’t alone upon her return with henry. she brought with her her twin sister, elizabeth, and niece, catherine. this is the tale of the forgotten twin.

platonic

one-shots

broken vessels shatter least

bruce has made an executive decision—one that neither you nor your many siblings agree with—but an order you have to follow. in order to keep your identities from being discovered, he is being arrested, put on trial, maybe even going to jail, on falsified charges of child abuse. the worst part of it is, he’s making you and your siblings testify against—lie about, slander—him.

series

born of opposing sides

(mcu!crossover) the problem with being one of bruce wayne’s children is that it takes a lot to get away from him. in your case, it took the extreme of faking your death to keep him, to keep alfred, to keep your siblings, safe from you away from you. as time passes and you’re forced back into the worlds of corporations and superheroes, albeit very different, unfamiliar ones, you can’t keep ignoring the home sickness. but what will it take to finally face your past?

[demigoddreamer]

Batfam Fanfic Recs Part 1

Most of the Batfamily bonding fics I read are centered around Jason Todd aka Red Hood because he's my fav Robin so all of these probably have Jason . I don't have any x readers, most of them don't have relationships if they do there is no incest. I do like a good angsty fanfic with some emotional trauma but usually end in comfort so some of these may be too serious for your liking but i don't read anything above teen and up audiences cause i can't handle really sexual stuff.

Mother in the Earth by alexandredumas_eatyourheartout

General Audiences

Relationships:

Catherine Todd & Jason Todd

Summary:

“I wish you would say something,” Jason says quietly. “You’re always so quiet when I come around. Is it something I said?”

The rain plip-plops against the ground in reply to his words.

Needles or Pins by LanternWisp

Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships:

Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Summary:

Sometimes Little Reds walk the path of needles, forbidden forests are urban jungles, the Woodsmen don't make it in time and disobedient children get eaten by wolves. It's when the story doesn't have the decency to end there that things get complicated.

OR Some dark details of Jason's past finally come to light.

Fallen Bird by Croppmar000

General Audiences

Summary:

Something had happened, something bad. Dick was a wreak. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Batman's birds didn't just die.

Someone That Hates To See Me Go by AutumnHobbit

Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships:

Jason Todd & Dick Grayson

Jason Todd & Tim Drake

Jason Todd & Damian Wayne

Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Jason Todd & Stephanie Brown

Jason Todd & Cassandra Cain

Jason Todd & Alfred Pennyworth

Jason Todd & Barbara Gordon

Summary:

Batfamily:don't die Jason:I'll dO WHAT I WANT _____

Or, how Jason realizes his family wants him to live, and how he realizes he does, too.

If the Sky Comes Falling Down (For You) by lurkinglurkerwholurks

Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships:

Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd

Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd

Jason Todd & Damian Wayne

Summary:

or, 5 times Jason Todd saved his siblings... and one time they saved him.

This fic is completely written and will post weekly.

It was only by luck that Jason was still there when the bodies came crashing down the street. Bad luck, he would argue. He could hear them long before he could see them, their bodies preceded by the thunderous pounding of boots of asphalt and shouted curses. Three or four figures flashed by his little alleyway, a tight mob followed by a lone, slender figure in a streaming cape.

Fair is Fowl by Lysical

Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships:

Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

Summary:

Dick Grayson is visiting the Manor. Jason Todd has the chickenpox. They might not be brothers, but maybe they can get along for one evening. -- "Bruce should get the chickenpox," Jason said, as Alfred walked to the door. "Then we'll tell him he can't patrol and see how he likes it."

"Perish the thought.”

Overheard by Sun_Moon_Stars_Jedi

Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships:

Clark Kent & Jason Todd

Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

Summary:

Clark overhears something at a charity gala that reveals parts of Jason's past on the street.

i'd give you my lungs (so you could breathe) by discowing (ameliafromafairytale)

General Audiences

Relationships:

Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

Summary:

A brush with fear toxin on patrol leaves Dick seeking comfort and grounding in his first brother's presence.

a raging black ocean by starknjarvis

Teen and up audiences

Summary:

It's cold in the Cave, and there are still things Jason cannot stomach.

Young, Scrappy and Hungry by Sohotthateveryonedied

-Teen and up audiences

Summary:

“Shit.”

Whoever dumped the wood here must not have been paying attention, because they missed the huge fucking nail sticking out of one of the planks. It tore right through the side of Jason’s left hand, the wound deep and jagged. The lighting is horrid, but even Jason can tell that the dark fluid coating his hand is blood—so much that the sight alone makes him queasy.

Fuck. Fuckety fucking shit. This is going to need a fuck ton of stitches, and Jason can officially cross hand model off his list of potential careers.

It Hurts to Breathe by Ellegrine

-Teen and up audiences

Relationships:

Jason Todd & Dick Grayson

Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Summary:

There’s a batarang in Jason’s pocket. It hurt more than the crowbar.

[daemoninwhiteround2]

I love your Milk Bar Au 💙 your writing is so good, I'm literally refreshing the tag page every 5 minutes lol

Everyone is saying such lovely things about the milk bar AU! Thank you!

Everyone knows that bonds don't take unless everyone involved wants them. There's a bunch of hormone and chemical triggers, Jason's not entirely sure, he was murdered before either his sex ed or bio classes broached the topic in anything other than the most general terms. But what he knows, what everyone knows, is that bonds don't take, don't stay, if everyone doesn't keep on wanting them. That's how he knows that Catherine loved Willis until she died. That's how he knows that Bruce kept secrets from him, even back when things were good.

That's how he knows he's massively fucked up.

Dick Grayson pours into his head - a flash of regret, of horror, swiftly drowned out but pure delight. Had he ever even remotely entertained the idea that a mate bond would take between them, he would've guessed that it would feel like a more intense version of the pack bond they shared before Jason died.

This is nothing like that. It's like all his senses are turned up past 11, but they're all focused in on Dick. Nothing exists but the warm body next to him, but the rock solid cock inside of him.

But the bite on his neck, which stings as sweat slides past it. As Dick licks over it, long and slow and luxuriating in it. In what it means.

"I never guessed," Dick whispers against his skin, worship audible in every syllable. "I hoped, I thought, maybe, maybe you might feel the same way I did - do. Jason, Jason, I love-"

"No," Jason croaks out. He can't take it - if Dick says that word, he can't. He'll take the bond turning to disgust and then crumbling away between them before he'll lay here and allow Dick to tell him that.

Dick falls silent and Jason can feel bewildered hurt seep into the bond, confusion wash in after it. They're bonded, everyone knows what that means. But.

If... If Jason hears him say that, and then Dick...

Jason's always known how this will end when Dick finds out who he really is. He never expected it to get this far - every 'shift' at the bar was a thrill, a waiting game for Bruce, or Batman, or Matches, or one of Bruce's myriad of aliases to walk through the door.

Jason knows a thing or two about clocks ticking down to disaster.

"I'm Jason Todd."

Dick freezes. The bond does too.

"What?" Dick rasps.

"I'm - it's me. Jason."

"You - I felt the bond snap!"

Dick's hands are so tight on Jason's shoulders that Jason can feel bruises forming. He can feel the muscle giving way, the veins being crushed, the blood spreading out under his skin in subdermal haemorrhages.

"The Joker killed me. I. I woke up."

There's long, long silence between them. All Jason can hear is the faint hum of air-conditioning. The throb of his pulse in his ears.

"You-"

"I'm the Red Hood," Jason says. He feels disconnected from his body, tethered to it only by the wild beat of his heart. He feels like he's outside, watches his own mouth move as he confesses the final hurdle: "I'm the Red Hood."

Here it comes, the part of him that always knew purrs. Here will be the rejection, here will be the disgust, the bond crumbling to dust as Dick recoils in horror from what he's connected himself to. Here will be Dick pulling out, heedless of his knot, heedless of the pain he'll cause Jason, heedless of the blood that will spill from him. If he's lucky, Dick will toss him out of the den Dick built for them, if he's unlucky Dick will knock him out and Jason will wake up in the Cave. In Blackgate.

If Dick hates him, as Jason will feel any second, he'll wake up in Arkham.

"Jason?" Dick asks. His voice... Jason's never heard him sound like that. "L-little wing?"

Jason forces himself to look Dick in the eye and--

The world.

Stutters.

Tilts on its axis.

Dick is. Crying.

And in the bond...

"Jason, Jason, little wing, it's you." He presses his forehead to Jason's shoulder and weeps.

[mischiefandspirits]

Colony of Gotham (1/7)

Special thanks to @starlightandsunshine​ for helping me with this <3

The Colony of Gotham is an urban legend that is whispered about in the dangerous city. It's said the Colony is a family of demons and spirits that stalk the night, hunting for the souls of the guilty.

When Bruce became Batman, he'd never intended to be mistaken for a demon. He was happy to lean into it, though, and as he gained his partners -- as his family grew -- they all followed suit.

Next Part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne was born a vampire, one from the long-standing Kane family of vampires through his mother. This nature granted him a few abilities. He was more durable than a human and could heal faster. He was stronger and faster than a human and had better sight and hearing, though not to anywhere near the degree that some metas boasted. He could take on the form of an animal and could influence bats, corvids, canines, and felines to a certain extent. Finally, he would stop aging once he reached his thirties, a trait of those who were born or turned young instead of those like Alfred who were turned at an older age and therefore would always be that age.

However, when he set off on his path to becoming Batman, he swore to himself that he would not rely on any of this to fight the criminals that plagued Gotham. He would not be like those heroes past who relied on their powers, then were left defenseless when those abilities faltered or were ripped away. After all, only a vampire’s healing and longevity remained during the day and some spells and devices could similarly strip his nature away.

Batman stuck to his wits, tech, and martial arts training.

Even still, the criminals of Gotham could tell something was off about the Bat. Rumors flew about a demon haunting Gotham’s night, which Bruce leaned into. He hadn’t chosen a bat just because of the family significance. He wanted to strike fear. As such, he stuck to the shadows and allowed his fangs to bare. He used makeup to make himself appear paler and contortionist tricks to make his movements uncanny. He allowed Batman to become an urban legend that sent shivers down the spines of Gotham’s infamous.

When Barbara Gordon became Batgirl, she quickly realized his tricks were just that and leaned into them as well. She became a ghost following in the Bat’s footsteps. She disappeared into a mist made from special smoke pellets and spun across the ground and air in a weightless way that came from years of ballet and gymnastics training. She wore shadows like Batman’s, but violet and gold peeked through the darkness to make her stand apart.

Bruce initially didn’t want her in the field, but she eventually proved herself both competent and stubborn. In a bid to help protect her, he outfitted her with proper gear and let her in on the secret of his nature. She considered it, then a week later she asked him to turn her so she could always watch his back.

Then Dick Grayson was taken in by the billionaire and became the Bloody Robin. They called him a demon child, the son of the Bat who flew on bird’s wings. His cheerful laughs and giggles echoed and hissed eerily thanks to a voice filter. His clothes were bright colors, but were covered by the wing-like shadows that wrapped over his shoulders. Fake blood dripped from his hair and eyes and coated the tips of his gloves and cape. He chirped like a bird as he flipped and flew through the air. His mask made his eyes glow white and his body almost appeared boneless when he moved around on the ground thanks to the contortionist who’d babysat him at the circus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three heard the tales when teams of heroes began to form, but they didn’t reach out. Gotham’s Colony was a myth, an urban legend. Those outside of Gotham had never heard of them and those within only spoke in whispers.

That was how the Colony preferred it.

Besides, the rest of the world wasn’t as dark as Gotham.

Their tricks and games worked fine in the shadow-filled gothic architecture that made up Gotham, the near-perpetual overcast days, and the deep darkness of Gotham’s nights, but cities like Jump, Metropolis, or Central were far brighter. They could do without, they’d proven that plenty of times against the bigger villains that were either too crazy or brave to fear the Bat, but why should they? The tricks and games had become a part of them over the years and discarding a piece of themselves just so they could work outside of Gotham with strangers felt wrong.

So the Colony stuck to their own.

On the job, at least.

Dick met Wally West at a two-week-long Jr. Forensics Summer Camp when they were eleven and thirteen respectively. Bruce had sent him to brush up on his skills while Wally’s mentor, Barry Allen, thought it would be good training. Neither boy knew about each other's secret lives, but became close friends all the same and kept in contact when they returned home. Dick didn’t reveal it to Wally when he discovered the other boy was Kid Flash, but kept a close eye on Central City just in case.

A similar situation happened two years later when the Colony discovered Green Arrow’s latest protégé, a girl named Artemis Crock, lived in Gotham and had been helped into Gotham Academy by the other billionaire. Dick decided to keep an eye on her, but his pseudo-stalking quickly turned into a genuine friendship.

He may have taken a bit too much joy in introducing Wally and Artemis to one another. Wally got back at him a few years later by introducing him to the model Kory Anders, the secret identity of his celebrity crush Starfire. Dick had to admit to having a crush on Kory as well to explain his nerves.

It turned out to be a net gain in the end, though, since he came out of it with her phone number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As time passed, Dick started to get too old to be the demon child. He decided to create a new story for himself. One that would let him step out from under the shadow of the bat, using a name from an alien myth in Bruce’s files that he’d loved reading growing up. He and Bruce argued, and Dick spent some time sleeping on Barbara’s couch, but with nowhere to run they were forced to come to a compromise. There was still tension, but it was smoothed over with time and a bite.

Nightwing was a nocturnal bird that had taken human shape after being taken in by Batgirl’s elegance. It chased after and raced the ghost, nothing but shadows and a blue streak flying through the air. Those who got close enough to see his face would say that his skin was like porcelain while black wings covered his eyes completely and his lips were painted with darkness.

Nightwing wasn’t the only change to the Colony, though, because as Dick was finishing up his designs for the story, a little boy was stealing the tires off the Batmobile.

Dick was furious when the kid climbed out of the car into the cave, thinking Bruce had brought the kid in as a new Robin without even consulting him, but anger’s quickly replaced by confusion.

Because Batman wasn’t with the kid.

Jason Todd had gotten grabbed by the Bat after having already nicked three tires off the batmobile. Batman caught him before he could run then replaced the tires. He’d made a mistake in leaving the boy in the car when he went to call for someone to pick him up, however. Jason, who some might generously call impulsive, proceeded to use the opportunity presented to him to hotwire the vehicle and take it for a joyride that ended when he accidentally had the autopilot bring him to the cave. 

Dick was immediately taken with the small spitfire’s story, as well as his stubbornness and intellect. Meanwhile, Jason was amused by the fact that Gotham’s demon was, in his eyes, nothing more than a spectacular conman and wanted in. They teamed up to force Bruce to adopt the younger boy through underhanded -- and perhaps slightly illegal -- tactics.

As Dick started using his new story more and Robin less, Jason got his own turn under Batman’s cape.

People started to say Robin was more vicious. He’d climb walls, the claws on his feet and hands easily cutting into brick and metal. He’d give a fang-filled smirk as he hung from the ceiling like he’d forgotten he was a bird instead of a bat, only to drop down on unsuspecting shoulders. If he wasn’t clawing at opponents, he was beating them with his fists.

As one of his first acts as Robin, Jason saved a young boy who had been kidnapped for ransom. The kid had acted out of it during the rescue, but Jason put it down to trauma. He’d had no reason to realize the young detective-to-be had noticed the edge of Jason’s fake fangs through the shadows and fake blood. No one could have predicted the rabbit hole young Tim Drake had just fallen down nor that it would lead him to massive discoveries in the near future.

When Jason discovered Catherine Todd wasn’t his birth mother, he considered going alone to look for the mystery woman who’d given birth to him. He and Bruce had just had a fight about his temper that had left him benched and he wanted to prove himself, but something Dick had told him months before echoed in his mind.

“No matter how much we argue, we’re always going to be there for each other. Us birds and bats, we’re a family. We have to stick together.”

In the end, he asked Dick and Barbara for help. It was something he was thankful for when his mother sold him out to the Joker. At least he could hold out against the torment with the knowledge his true family would soon come for him.

When Batgirl and Nightwing arrived, Joker fled. Barbara got Jason out while Dick, after seeing the state of his brother, tracked down the clown. Bruce got to him just in time to stop him from beating Joker to death, but when he saw Jason’s condition he couldn’t bring himself to scold his elder son for his loss of control.

Jason was barely hanging on and Bruce, knowing there was no other choice, turned him.

The boy lived, but his injuries were too severe and he fell into a coma.

Three weeks later, Bruce and Dick came into Bruce’s study to find Tim Drake waiting for them. Both were a little more focused on “My parents are never home” than “so I’m in a perfect position to cover for Jason as Robin while he’s sleeping,” to Tim’s confusion, but he ended up in the suit all the same.

The whispers that had come after Joker’s latest incarceration had him crowing about clipping bird wings tapered off as Robin sightings flared up throughout the city. People saw him flying next to the Bat and they heard him tap-tap-tapping his claws. He tapped them against the walls as he hunted through warehouses and against the floors as he crouched in front of technology that seemed to unlock under his gaze thanks to the computer that’d been built into his gloves, the interface of which could only be seen through the lenses in the Colony’s masks and cowls.

Tim didn’t really know how to feel about being adopted by Bruce, aside from the guilt he knew was mixed in there somewhere. It felt wrong to be slipping into the family like that while Jason was right there and Dick had to talk him down when the anxiety attack eventually hit.

Tim was Tim. He wasn’t Jason and they didn’t want him to be Jason.

Dick understood though. He explained how Dick and Jason had both had similar feelings regarding Barbara and Dick respectively, though Dick could admit he’d gotten off easier all things considered. He told Tim that the Colony was a family, and adoption or not, Tim was a part of that now. Jason wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Tim.

When Jason woke, Dick had a similar conversation with him after Jay saw a news broadcast about Tim while waiting for the others to arrive. It soothed him some, and Tim soothed him more when he assured Jason he wasn’t taking Robin from him.

“There can’t be two Robins.”

“Why can’t there?”

As Jason went through physical training to get back in shape, the two worked together to develop a strategy for acting as Robin together. One part of this was Trillic.

Tim, with help from Dick and Jason, invented a secret language made up of chirps, whistles, and clicks. It started as a way for the Robins to communicate with each other without giving away there was more than one, but over time the rest of the Colony picked it up and the vocabulary expanded until it became the family’s own personal language that they’d use whenever they didn’t feel like using words.

A few days after Jason was released from the hospital, Dick found Jason down in the cave and grew worried his little brother was pushing himself too soon after his accident. Then he saw the young woman on the screen. She looked a year or two older than Jason with long red hair, olive skin, and bright green eyes.

They’d met in Ethiopia, Jason told him, while saving a woman from some men. Jason had wanted to try to track her down now that he was awake. He’d succeeded, but it turned out she was an Amazonian hero.

Combined with the fact her name was Artemis, Dick couldn’t help but laugh and make a joke about Jason following in his footsteps. Jason smacked him and told him she was really more of an anti-hero so it wasn’t the same as Dick making friends with Kid Flash and Tigress, but Dick ignored him.

Jason did end up contacting her, and even got her to take a visit to Gotham. Dick took the opportunity to introduce her to Wally and his own Artemis, who Wally began to refer to as Stripes to not get confused. When questioned, he claimed it was because of some outfit of hers that stuck in his mind. Dick and Jason, knowing it was actually based on her identity as Tigress, nodded along and picked up using the name, to her annoyance.

Surprisingly, the two women didn’t get along despite their similar attitudes. This led to them taking great offense whenever people couldn’t tell which Artemis was being talked about, something only Jason, Dick, and Alfred never managed to do.

While the teens were laughing over this, whispers were going around about how the Bloody Robin seemed to be everywhere. If you fled from a room you knew he was in, you’d find him standing right in front of you in the new room. There was no escape. And he trilled more than ever, though his voice almost seemed to echo back at him as if he was having a conversation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not long after the Justice League had formed, Barbara had hacked into their security system and planted a little bug she named Mockingbird. It was designed to alert her whenever someone mentioned the Colony’s civilian or vigilante identities and copy any footage during the time. More often than not all it gave her was Wally and Bow-Artemis (as most of the family thought of her, to contrast with Axe-Artemis) discussing Dick. Every so often though, there’d be someone pining after Dick or Bruce, which could be good for a laugh depending on who it was.

On a day not long after the Robins had been set loose together, Mockingbird gave her something that was sort of new, yet at the same time not.

The video started with Wally discussing some prank he and Dick had pulled on Bruce and slowly devolved into him just bragging about how awesome Dick was. Suddenly he froze, staring off into the air.

Artemis took one look at him and asked, “Did you finally realize you’ve got a crush on your best friend?”

He immediately went to reassure his girlfriend, but she said got it and even shared his feelings.

Barbara settled in to watch the show.

Unfortunately, it took longer than she’d anticipated for Dick to catch on that the two actually wanted to date him and not just spend more time with him. He was usually pretty good at picking up on people’s feelings, yet Artemis ended up having to pull him into her lap during a movie night and kiss him flat on the lips before it sunk in.

When Barbara approached him about it, he pouted over her spying. Then he admitted that he’d known for years they all had feelings for each other, he just hadn’t wanted to risk getting in the middle of the two’s relationship since they seemed so happy together. When he’d realized how they’d started flirting with him, he’d been worried they were just after a quick thing and he couldn’t do that to himself. So he’d put on his media mask of naive ditz Dickie who wouldn’t recognize flirting if it hit him in the face.

Thankfully the two had reassured him and after talking it through, the three settled happily into their throuple.

To congratulate his brother, Jason gave him a solid week before making jokes about Dick following in Bruce’s footsteps by dating someone with a feline-themed suit.

The next hurdle was deciding how to deal with the media. Dick was Richard “Dickie” Grayson, eldest son of Bruce Wayne. The media loved to go on about him. Pretty much every second of his relationship with Kory had been recorded by the press. Neither of them had minded. He was still a performer at heart, always would be, and she was a warrior princess who had been in the spotlight all her life.

But Dick knew Wally and Artemis weren’t Kory so he talked to them about how they wanted to handle things.

In the end, they agreed only friends and family would know about Artemis, but Wally and Dick would go public. They all had practice keeping much bigger secrets so it wasn’t hard on Artemis to hide their relationship. Meanwhile, Wally didn’t mind playing around for the cameras. Plus, he knew how people treated Dick when they thought he was single and a small possessive part of him didn’t want them trying anything, even if he knew Dick would never cheat.

Things didn’t actually turn out too bad. Of course, there were always the conservatives that came around when Dick got a boyfriend, but they never stuck around long. Bruce had made his support of Dick’s sexuality very clear from the beginning and no one wanted to risk really ticking someone as rich and connected as him off by attacking his son like that.

The real problem came when their agreement to tell their families accidentally didn’t reach everyone.

Dick had been alone at the manor when it happened.

Bruce had gone on a weekend business trip, bringing Tim with him. Alfred was on a trip to England. Jason had taken the opportunity to spend the weekend hopefully not blowing things up with Artemis Grace, who had ended up getting a small flat in Gotham to act as her home base so she could visit with Jason and Dick during the rare occasions she wasn’t running across the world causing trouble with the Outlaws. Dick had been planning to spend the weekend with his partners at Stripe’s apartment, but they’d both been caught up by something (Dick assumed a mission had unexpectedly run long) so he had the night to himself.

He was watching a movie in the theater room when he felt a shift in the air. He immediately dropped to the floor, barely avoiding the sai that had been coming for his throat. Then he was over the back of the couch and engaging the assassin. He quickly realized she was with the League of Assassins as he recognized moves Bruce had picked up from them. She was good, too, but she had clearly come to the fight unprepared to face a Gotham myth. He didn’t take too many hits before pinning her and binding her hands and feet with the obijime from her dress. He then disarmed her of all her hidden weapons just in case.

When he questioned her, she declared that she was Artemis’s sister and had come to avenge her honor after Wally had betrayed her for Dick. She was not going to sit back and let the fool cheat on or dump her sister for the likes of a man she had believed was nothing more than an airheaded socialite.

Then, with narrowed eyes, she added that she had clearly been mistaken as not many airheaded socialites had been trained by assassins. Nor did they use moves only known by those trained by Ra’s al Ghul.

Dick ignored that and explained the trio’s situation as he untied her, having recognized her as Cheshire aka Jade Nguyen aka his girlfriend’s -- apparently protective -- assassin sister.

He took pride in the fact that he was dating someone who was only related to criminals instead of actually dating a criminal, unlike a certain father of his.

She thankfully believed him, though she did warn that should he be lying or should he hurt Artemis, she wouldn’t underestimate him a second time. She made a few more thinly veiled digs at his assassin-based fighting style as he showed her out that he cleanly sidestepped with comments about self-defense training. They both knew she didn’t believe a word of it, but she left it alone as she slipped away into the night.

So long as her sister remained unharmed, she had no desire to get involved in whatever was going on between the Wayne’s and al Ghul’s.

Before she left Gotham, though, she met Artemis and Wally on their way in and informed her sister that she approved of her new boyfriend. Both to be sure Dick was telling the truth and to mess with the speedster. The two predictably freaked out and she used their panic to slip away.

Dick answered Artemis’s call with, “Oh hey, Stripes! Your sister came by earlier to give me the shovel talk over tea. It was pretty gory, but I think the one Jason gave Wally was still probably worse so I’m not going to complain. Are we still on for tomorrow?” to their relief.

Artemis had not wanted to try to explain her assassin sister to her civilian boyfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I decided to use Stephanie's Batgirl suit for Babs because most of Babs' suits are either bright or look just like Batman's. Steph will get other suits of hers when she appears.

The Robin suit looks just like Dick's from The Batman (2004), just bloodier.

Nightwing's suit looks like the typical V one, just with the eyes of the mask being blacked out. Also, black lipstick because yes.

Vampires’ animal forms:

Bruce: Gray bat

Alfred: Common raven

Selina: Oriental shorthair cat

Barbara: Little red flying fox

Dick: Black-billed magpie

Jason: Malayan flying fox

[bigskydreaming]

Whenever Batman refers to criminals as street scum or anything similar, I shall emerge from the shadows so I can go "Have you thought about the seriously classist and/or racial implications of that word? Especially coming from a blue blood like yourself?"

Mooooooooooooooood.

And the thing is, as critical as I am of Bruce, I don’t actually find that to be in character, and even the times in canon when he’s expressed something like that, I simply make the sign of the cross to ward off the Frank Miller fanboy who probably wrote that.

Like, erm, no. When writers pull that I’m like nah that’s a you thing. Its like how I am when people write Jason calling Dick ‘Dickhead’ and making fun of the original Robin costume (like he didn’t also wear it himself). I’m just like, nope, that’s just you using Jason as your mouthpiece for your particular sense of humor or whatever, cuz I don’t buy that literally homeless and lived on the street Jason Todd mocks other people for the non-physical reminders they keep of past loved ones because they didn’t actually get to hold on to any physical ones. 

He knows what that’s like, and it makes him a total unsympathetic hypocrite to pretend otherwise just to take cheap shots at Dick, especially when he’d likely be shooting someone at least in the kneecap for ever daring to make fun of him for some tradition he keeps to in honor of Catherine.

And not at all incidentally, I always wanna point out that nowhere in the comic books does Jason ever refer to Dick by names like Dickhead or Dickwad. In fact, he usually just calls Dick “Grayson” the same as Damian does. Again, not an obsession with canon that makes me point this out, lol, but rather just to emphasize the fact that this widespread-as-hell trend was 100% fully and completely made up entirely by fandom. It doesn’t exist anywhere else BUT fandom, its not in any of the adaptations. People treat this as commonplace and without a second thought given to it in-story, but they didn’t get it from anywhere else, it was fans who created this trend.

And that’s why Im critical of fanon, because its not like I don’t bitch endlessly about canon, lmfao, so I’m always bewildered when people are like “why do you care so much about fanon, look at what canon’s doing” - its like, umm, I can do both, I can even pat my head and rub my stomach at the same time. What, like its hard?

But when there are tropes that there’s legitimate criticism of - like the fact that Dick has huge self-esteem issues, and your story is missing a huge piece of the picture when you have all his closest friends and family ONLY ever addressing him by ‘name’ in the form of constant sexualized insults that make a mockery of his right to be sentimental and hold onto things that remind him of his parents....and you like, don’t treat this in-story (not out of story, I don’t care what jokes people make about his name then, he’s fictional, he’s not hurt, its just IN STORY that its a big deal), but like, when you have this huge constant trope that casual mockery, disdain and dismissiveness is embraced by EVERYONE in his life, and you don’t at any point connect any dots between this and....his many self-esteem issues, its like.....ummm....so we’re just....supposed to not view this as a problem and just ignore the very obvious ways the former plays into the latter here? Is that how that logic goes? 

LOL no, I’m not going to ignore when Cause A is directly relevant to Effect B, in your own damn stories, just because fans invented the trope instead of canon, sorry not sorry. That’s so weird to me that people take it for granted that we should? Its like the frequent textbook abuse apologism. Its like....so when you’re writing a story about abuse....and you’re still falling back on literal real world excuses used by abusers to obscure their own wrongdoing....we’re just not supposed to mention ‘hey you’re writing about abuse but that thing you patted Jason on the back for doing was also literally abuse so wth dude” because it was a fanon derived view of the situation and not a canon-based one?

....no, that’s not how logic works, that’s not a thing people get to hide behind. Criticism is not the same as critique. If I’m saying I have a problem with the view of abuse your story validated or perpetuated here, it has nothing to do with me feeling entitled and offering up unwanted suggestions or improvements to the story-telling of a fan who just came out to have a good time and doesn’t want constructive criticism. 

Its just....me saying I have a problem with the view of abuse your story validated or perpetuated here, literally the exact same as I would object to you expressing the exact same phrasing or idea out loud if we were just two people having a real-world-specific conversation about abuse out loud, without any connection to fiction whatsoever.

Ideas don’t just magically become disconnected from the choices we make based on internalizing various ideas, like, just because we entered the realm of fandom where nothing people say or do has ANY connection whatsoever to....actual internalized views on extremely complicated topics. Its not a one to one correlation, its not like everything we express in fandom mirrors exactly what we do or act like outside of fandom, but there’s the flip side of that where it IS like the things we do or say or act on in fandom do still have to come from SOMEWHERE and that somewhere is still something internalized inside of us to some degree, it didn’t just magically appear on the page. 

There’s not a clear and easily defined connection or correlation always, but there’s not like this impassable chasm between Fandom Us and Real World Us like so many people pretend at. We don’t magically become totally different people with completely different viewpoints and perspectives the second we take off our fandom hat for the day and go back to interacting with people in the real world.

I swear, sometimes fans sound like kids chanting “i’m not touching you, can’t get mad” while waving their hands around in someone else’s face. “I said it in fandom so it doesn’t count as a real opinion, you can’t get mad.”

.....uh....no?

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Five Stages of Mamma Mia

Fandom: Batfam, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Catherine Johnson is Jason's bio mom and Jason doesn't know who his father is. (Jason Todd is Jason Johnson for fic reasons).

Chapters: 13/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Jason Blood, Catherine Todd Mention, Bruce Wayne, Willis Todd Mention

Relationship(s): Past Catherine Todd/Jason Blood, Past Catherine Todd/Bruce Wayne, Past Catherine Todd/Willis Todd

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Mamma Mia-inspired AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Father-Son Relationship(s), Jason Todd Experiences the Five Stages of Grief

Chapter Thirteen: The Day Before You Came (Depression)

Mr. Blood thought it would be better for Jason to heal elsewhere. Bruce took him to the manor. Jason had never been to the manor in the daylight before. He hadn't spoken since the incident. Alfred set up his room ahead of time, and when Jason arrived, he curled up in bed and stared at the ceiling. Jason lay there for hours. Or maybe days. Time felt so strange after escaping Nakane's clutches. The only thing that interrupted the dark passages of time was Alfred's offer of meals. Oh, and the strange man who entered through his window. Jason sat up, his head spinning from self-inflicted starvation as he tried to focus his blurred sights on the man in the shadow. "Who the hell are you?" the man questioned.

Jason flopped back down on the bed, closing his eyes to stave off the oncoming headache. Nausea washed over him in waves. "Are you a weirdo, or are you his son, Dick?" Jason questioned. Dick walked over to Jason, careful not to mention the odor originating from the despairing child. He took off his mask and set it on the dresser.

"I am," Dick replied in a softer tone. "How long have you been here?"

Jason shrugged, still lying on his back. "Don't know... A couple of-. I don't know. Can you sit for a while?" Jason requested. Dick nodded and pulled up a chair. "He might be my father... I don't—. Dick, have you ever wanted to die?"

"I've been in bad places mentally before... Yeah," Dick answered, "What makes you ask that question?"

Jason exhaled and wrung his hands. "Something happened to me..." Jason took a shaky breath. "A lot of things, and I can't—. I can't breathe anymore."

"What's your name?" Dick asked.

"Jason Johnson," Jason mumbled.

"Do you want to talk about everything? I have time," Dick offered. Jason nodded and told Dick his life story. Dick sat and listened for hours, only offering a word when it seemed appropriate. "How do you feel physically?"

"I think I want to take a bath," Jason mumbled. Dick nodded.

"I'll run your water, and if you want, I'll stay here and wait for you... I'll be right here," Dick reassured him. Jason planted his feet on the ground and hid his face in his hands. "It's gonna be okay." Dick left him alone for five minutes to run a bath. Jason joined him, holding onto the door frame for support.

"Why do you want to help me?" Jason asked.

"Because you need it," Dick answered, "After you get out, I'll get us something to eat... Maybe we could go downstairs and watch a movie or something."

Jason nodded. "Okay," he whispered weakly.

Dick left the bathroom and closed the door before changing Jason's bedding. Alfred peeked into the bedroom before gesturing for Dick to come into the hallway and talk. "How is he?" Alfred questioned. Dick shook his head.

"I managed to get him to talk, and he's in the bath now. How long's he been here?" Dick asked.

"Four days... I was starting to worry," Alfred whispered, "Are you staying the night?"

"Mhm... I wasn't originally planning on it, but somebody needs to watch after him. Where's Bruce?" Dick questioned. "Does he know that his kid is in there wasting away?"

"Master Dick, it's not that simple... He's tried to be as gentle as possible. Master Jason's in a fragile state," Alfred explained, "He didn't want to speak to Master Bruce."

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's quiet in there... I should go check on him," Dick whispered. Alfred nodded. "Jason, you okay in there?"

"I'm okay... Bruce takes full responsibility for what went wrong between you two. He misses you," Jason divulged.

Dick smiled a half-smile. "You don't have to worry about that... We'll work that out at one time or another," Dick reassured him, "You know, Jason, you're not a bad kid for what happened."

"For a second... I hated her," Jason whispered, "I didn't want to admit it, but I hated her for just a second, and that's the worst thing."

"You can love somebody without condoning things they've done wrong," Dick whispered, "You can't blame yourself for being upset with things that hurt you. I'm sure your mom was a beautiful person that loved you very much, but everyone is flawed. It's okay to be angry about things like that."

"But she didn't-. She wouldn't have been that way if she wasn't sick," Jason whispered. Dick heard the water drain from the tub, but he didn't say anything. "I don't want to be mad at her. What is being mad gonna do?"

"Help you heal," Dick replied. Jason opened the bathroom door with tears in his eyes.

He had sweatpants and a t-shirt on instead of pajamas. He stood still, waiting for Dick to tell him what to do next. "Jason, let's get you something to eat," Dick whispered. He took Jason's hand and led him down the stairs. Jason squeezed Dick's hand, but his hold was weak. Jason stopped at the center of the steps and sat down, still holding Dick's hand.

"Sorry, I think I should lie down," Jason whispered. Dick offered to carry Jason on his back, and Jason accepted. Jason closed his eyes and listened to the near-silent sound of Dick's breathing. Dick made two plates and carried them to the living room, and Jason's stomach growled.

He sat Jason down on the couch before setting the plates on the coffee table. Jason set the plate on his lap before eating his soup.

Dick turned the tv on and searched for a movie. Jason finished his bowl and curled up next to Dick. "Is Bruce here?" Jason questioned.

"I'm not sure... But I'm not worried about that right now. Jason, are you still hungry? I could—."

Jason curled up next to Dick on the couch. He seemed content with Dick by his side, and for the first time in days, he slept. Dick finished the movie alone and finished eating before carrying Jason to bed. Jason slept through the night, and Dick slipped out of the room to wait for Bruce. Bruce came up from the cave, and Dick stood in the hall, his arms crossed despite a distinct smile on his face. "He's cute. I'll give you that," Dick whispered.

"I don't want to argue—."

"Neither do I. I spent a little time with Jason... Is he—?"

"I'm not sure yet. I want to hold off on finding out until he's stable," Bruce interrupted, "Wait. He spoke? Did he eat too?" Dick nodded. Bruce relaxed his shoulders. "Did he—?"

"He took a bath... He cleans up nice, but he's still shaken up. Were you ever gonna tell me you might have a kid?" Dick questioned. Bruce closed his eyes.

"I wanted to be sure... He spoke to you?" Bruce asked again.

"Yeah, he told me everything... What are you gonna do? I mean, he's really—. He's traumatized," Dick whispered. Bruce didn't answer. He didn't have an answer.

[bornintartarus]

Posted for the annual Jason Todd Birthday Week! Also on AO3

i.

Jason's feet are numb as he walks the lonely streets of Gotham. They are barely protected against the ice and snow he treads upon, covered in the remnants of shoes that had been brand new five years ago. He wiggles his toes to bring back some warmth as he walks, hands tightened in his tattered jacket pockets. One of his hands is clenching the leather wallet he picked off a businessman chattering on his phone, the other a bracelet he stole from a woman when she helped him up after falling to his knees in the snow.

A stab of guilt worms its way into his young heart and he squashes it down resolutely. His mom needs this money, he needs this money. It's the only way they'll survive past this stupid winter.

Winter in Gotham City is much like everything else he's experienced in his life this far, brutally unforgiving and a death trap on the streets if you weren't careful. It makes him shiver in his sleep, the wind's screaming jolting him awake in the middle of the night. He loves his city, it's the only home he's ever known, but that doesn't stop him from being tired.

The stealing is rough, but it hurts less than coming back to his mom without anything to feed her. It doesn't help that she's getting weaker by the day, barely accepting anything to eat anymore. Jason fondly remembers the days before his life became a living nightmare, before his dad left and they were living out in the cold.

His mom was filled with life back then, her cheeks pink and eyes glowing. She was healthy, not starved and always exhausted. He had sobbed at first when he realized what the drugs were doing to her, depriving him of a mother who was actually capable of taking care of him. There is no sparkle in her eyes now, all traces of mischief and adventure gone.

Jason realizes that he doesn't really know his mom anymore.

Wind whips at his cheeks, pushing hair in front of his eyes. He brushes it aside with trembling fingers and readjusts his hood to cover more of his face, gasping when the wind steals its way through the cracks and engulfs his ears in the freezing cold air.

Better hats, better socks, better gloves- there's a list of clothes he needs to survive this season, all with expensive price tags. It's either being cold or going hungry, and even at eight years old Jason's smart enough to know which one will get him killed first.

He has an actual list too, one back in that ramshackle shelter he and his mom call their home. He used to carry it with him, but just looking at the store windows made him want to tear it to pieces with desperation. They need food that isn't stale, water that's hot, clothes that actually fit. He doesn't know how much longer he can go on like this.

They've only been out on the streets for two years now, and a part of him swears he's never been this cold. He spent the last couple of days nailing scraps of wood and plastic garbage to block up the cracks at their little shelter, trying to root out where the cold air forces its way in. He spends the rest of his time out on the streets, scrounging for anything that can substitute for blankets and stealing things here and there from people to buy food from the dingy convenience store around the corner.

He takes the time to check on his mom, usually just to reassure himself that she's still breathing.

"Hi mom."

His throat closes up and not for the first time he wishes he was less of a crier.

"I have to run out to get some things."

No response.

Jason sniffles and holds back tears. He can do this, it's been two years, but seeing his mom like this never fails to cripple him.

He clears his throat. "I'll be back soon."

He doesn't expect a reply as he whispers a quick "Love you" and bolts away.

So that's what he's doing now, out in the cold. As he passes the Gilzean's Turf he keeps his head as low as possible, making himself smaller as he inches away. He's perfected the art of being invisible over the years, the only way to get away with trespassing on another gang's land. He knows that the gang members in Gotham have no qualms about killing children, hell, half of them make a living by selling drugs to kids in public schools. The thought makes his blood boil with anger.

He skirts around one of the drug dealers, hands inadvertently clenching around his stolen items. If he's caught with the wallet and the bracelet he'll be a prime target for life.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he finally passes safely, but something bright stops him in his tracks.

The store window is closing for the day, but the lights are still on and the cakes are on display. He hasn't seen anything this beautiful in the two years he's lived on the streets. The cakes come in all shapes, colors and sizes, but the one that catches his eye is fire engine red, yellow and orange icing swirling on top to imitate flames. The whole thing has a ridiculous toy fire truck on the top, and at that moment all Jason desperately wants to know is if it's edible or not.

He's stomach is growling with hunger while his mouth waters in vain. His fingers twitch at his sides restlessly. He doesn't know how long he stands there, cold, tired, hungry.

It's his birthday.

He's turning nine, he knows he's turning nine. It's his second birthday on the streets and he misses everything he's lost.

He misses his full stomach, his friends at school, his warm bed. He misses his books and toys, and the way his mom used to laugh when they spent time together.

He misses it all, and none of it is coming back. The feeling hurts more than anything he's ever felt, and he wonders if the hollow feeling in his chest will subside over time.

Suddenly, someone in the store shuts off the lights and the cake vanishes from view, a pang of misery resonating within him. It's gone, and some lucky kid will probably eat it tomorrow.

He stuffs his shivering hands back into his pockets, hands immediately finding the wallet. At least they'll have food tonight.

He makes his way back home after stopping at the convenience store, purchasing two cans of microwavable soup and a bottle of water with a $20 bill. The cashier looks suspicious as he hands over the change, and unease ripples through his empty stomach until he leaves.

He wastes no more time getting back, drinking the cold soup straight from the can. It's the cheapest he could find, greasy and too salty, and the chilly liquid does nothing to prevent the chills racking his skinny frame. Pouring the other into a chipped ceramic Tupperware container, he makes his way to his mom.

"Mom?"

She's awake this time, eyes glassy. Catherine Todd is right in front of him, but all Jason wants to do is cry about how far away she is.

"I brought you soup. You need to eat some this time, alright?"

She turns her head to face him briefly but doesn't respond. He sits next to her and tries to stop his hands from shaking as he feeds her small spoonfuls of soup.

She gets through half of it before she's pushing him away. He leaves the bottle of water next to her, knowing with a heavy heart that he'll find it unopened in the morning.

He pecks her on the cheek and pulls their best blanket over her, pausing to say goodnight before he leaves.

He knows that it'd be warmer if they slept together, but he knows he can't handle seeing her so frail for longer than an hour, and his crying upsets her.

He pulls out his raggedy piece of carpet to cover himself with to bed. He found it a couple of weeks ago in a garbage can, it's the warmest thing he possesses.

He makes a wish, hoping that his mom will live long enough to be there for his tenth birthday.

He dreams of red fire trucks.

___________________________________

ii.

It doesn't take long for time to pass; the days blur into weeks and weeks into months. The cold fades away and suddenly Gotham is warm again, bathed in summer light. The trees grow new leaves, the birds come back, and in no time at all the world moves on.

Wayne Manor hasn't changed in the slightest. The famous Robin costume hangs in the cave, Batman's proudly standing next to it. The manor is spotless as always, the endless hallways and rooms free of dust. The banisters are polished, the fireplaces cleaned of any ash.

Bruce's life simultaneously feels normal and completely out of order at the same time.

He still gets dressed in the morning, still eats breakfast and leaves for Wayne Enterprises. He still deals with boring meetings and pesky co-workers who won't stop staring at him.

It's difficult to get out of bed nowadays.

That, at least, is new. The wretched feeling of hopelessness weighing him down like an anvil. It makes his head hurt and his hands shake. His chest is left feeling tight and it’s always hard to breathe.

No matter how hard he tries to hide it, he knows almost everyone can see the change in him now, and a part of him hates himself for being weak while another part can't muster up the energy to give a damn. Lucius gives him pitying looks whenever he drifts off during a conversation. The league members are more gentle with him now, speaking in low tones without the biting remarks from before. Alfred tries his best to hide his concern when Bruce wakes himself up in the middle of the night screaming his son's name.

Everyone treats him like glass now, fragile, delicate, and liable of shattering. It doesn't help that it's exactly how Bruce feels, like one wrong word could break him for good. The only time he can remember hurting this bad was when he was eight years old and kneeling in front of his parent's bodies in that god forsaken alley.

He lets out a whimper of despair when he remembers finding a 10 year old Jason in that very alley, wrench in hand and grime on his face. He shoves his head into his hands to try and bury the memory, pulling at his hair.

The boy had looked so guilty, crouching in front of the Batmobile. He reminded Bruce of a scared cat, frightened to come forward but fierce in a fight.

He brought the kid a burger.

It had seemed logical at the time, Jason was obviously starving and he figured it was a smart way to get the boy to trust him.

That memory used to make him feel proud, now all he feels is nausea churning through his stomach.

If Jason never met him in the first place he'd still be alive. Maybe hungry and out of school but still breathing.

Adopting Jason had been different from adopting Dick. Dick was cautious as a child, still grieving over his parent's gruesome deaths. When Bruce looked into the acrobat's eyes he saw himself, someone desperately alone who needed love and support. When Jason was brought into his life it was sudden but welcome, and it made Bruce feel a little less lonely in the Manor since his first child spent most of his time in the Titans Tower.

Loving Dick felt like a responsibility, in a way. The boy deserved the attention Bruce had been deprived of after Martha and Thomas Wayne were murdered. It made him proud to witness Dick's journey through teenage years, standing by his side in some of Gotham's darkest moments. He's fought Penguin and Scarecrow and Riddler, and he gets better every time.

The arguing was new, but Bruce knows it's normal. He just wishes it didn't rile him as much as it does. Their fighting is loud, angry and sharp. Words are tossed around, ones that hurt, and they make Alfred sigh sadly. He can't help but feel annoyed at Dick acting out, but he knows that Dick hates it more when he gets left out.

It doesn't take long for Dick to realize he needs some space, and Bruce doesn't stop him when he leaves to train with the Titans.

But in that amount of time Jason Todd has wormed his way into his heart, slowly but surely. He manages to fill the gaping hole in Bruce's heart, and he comes to love the boy more than anything. While his love for Dick is as natural as breathing, instinctual at this point, his love for Jason is all-consuming, and it burns inside of him like a roaring flame.

Dick was never happy about Jason's presence in their lives, and he'd told Bruce once that it made him feel replaced and unwanted. It was hard work, but eventually the four of them had learned to make it work, coexisting with some semblance of normalcy. Nothing made Bruce happier than seeing his sons get along, and it made his heart swell with pride.

Life was good. Dick came by the manor more often and they fought less, Jason was settling in nicely, Alfred was overjoyed. Their small family wasn't normal, but Bruce gave up tradition when he put on the cowl for the first time.

Bruce wants that life back so badly. His heart aches and his head burns with memories. Dick is grieving as well, in his own way. It hurts to see Dick at his worst, awakens something primal in him that screams and shouts, demanding his attention. Dick runs himself ragged, stubbornly contributing to the Titans Team and Gotham at the same time. When Bruce voices his concerns, Dick shouts at him, cries out that he’s doing the best he can.

It makes Bruce feel even more like a failure.

In the end he holds Dick while he weeps and tries to pull himself together, because Dick’s grief is his fault, Jason’s death is his fault.

Today is as bad as any day, his legs feel like dead weights and his brain is mush. He knows how to get past this, he’s been battling this feeling for almost a year now. He swings his legs to the side of the bed and pulls himself upright.

He picks up the phone lying on the bedside table next to him and starts scrolling through his notifications. He reads through the schedule Lucius has made for him for the day, making mental notes as he goes along. He makes adjustments when needed, planning on the meetings he’ll attend. He swears internally when he realizes he’s overbooked for 5:00. He wastes no time switching to his calendar, searching for a free spot when he freezes.

The date is there, staring him in the face like a warning sign. He gazes at the letters almost hypnotically until they’re etched into his brain.

August 16.

He barely gets the chance to register the fact that his legs are moving until he’s crouching on the bathroom tiles, throwing up his dinner from the night before. Sweat beads his forehead as heaves, unable to focus on anything except the fact that it's August 16.

When it finally ends he pulls his legs forward and haunches himself up into a ball on the floor, head tucked inwards. Tears escape and he sobs, grief tearing his heart in two.

17. His little boy would have turned 17 years old.

The realization makes panic seize his chest until he’s gasping for air, fingers trembling as they scramble for purchase. There are hands on his shoulders, warm steady ones pulling him out of his head.

“Bruce, it’s gonna be alright.”

The words float towards him like distant echoes.

“I need you to breathe for me B, c’mon.”

He’s had panic attacks before but in his experience there’s no way to be fully prepared for one. His throat feels like it’s closing up, palms sweaty. His eyes bounce back and forth manically, finally settling on his eldest son.

“That’s good. Focus on me now.”

He tries his best, and eventually his breathing slows. Dick eases himself onto the floor gracefully, covering Bruce’s trembling hands with his own.

“Talk to me Bruce.”

After months spent alone, struggling to get through the days and dealing with his grief alone it’s all that’s needed to break the dam.

“He would have turned 17 today.”

The words are barely a whisper, but he can’t stop the tears that roll down his face from the confession. Dick squeezes his hand and gives him a silent nod of encouragement.

“If I hadn’t gotten him involved with being Robin in the first place he’d still be alive today.”

Dick shakes his head firmly.

“This is my fault, Dick, I-”

“Remember when he put on the suit for the first time?”

His brain scrambles as he's taken back to that day. Like he’d ever be able to forget. Jason was so excited he’d been worried about him falling off one of the buildings while he ran and leaped, doing somersaults in midair.

“He put it on and preened in front of a mirror, then jumped onto a table and screamed about it being the best day of his life, remember?"

Dick laughs softly and Bruce can't help but return the favour with a watery chuckle.

They sit for a few more moments, collecting their thoughts. Dick turns to face him.

"Here's what we're going to do B. You're gonna change, I'm going to help Alfred with breakfast and call Lucius to tell him you're taking the day off."

Bruce groans. "No, Dick, I've got the product launch meeting to supervise, the company's been working on it for months-"

His eldest gives him a hand to help him off the floor and glares at him. "You're taking the day off. Don't make me bring Alfred into this."

He finally relents, heading back to his bedroom to find some clothes. Dick retreats to the kitchen, grinning victoriously.

He abandons the suit he was preparing to wear to work and picks out the softest sweatshirt he owns instead. His phone rings unexpectedly and he grabs it, expecting it to be Lucius.

"Bruce?"

Clark's soft voice rings through the phone and Bruce's breath catches. He hastily presses it to his ear.

"What's wrong? Is it Metropolis or the Justice league?"

He's already running the scenarios through his head, calculating the amount of time it'll take to grab his batsuit and get there.

The voice on the other end halts, Clark clearing his throat. His unease grows.

"No, Bruce." The kryptonian sounds surprisingly gentle. "This is about Jason."

Ah.

Bruce takes a minute to wipe the tears stubbornly forming at the corner of his eyes again. Clark uses that silence to continue.

"Look, I know what today feels like for you and your family. I've been there."

The emotion in his voice instantly lets Bruce know that his friend is talking about Jonathan Kent. Clark's father had passed away two years ago from a heart attack. The memory is still fresh in his mind, Clark barely holding himself together as he spoke at the funeral, clutching his mother's hand.

He swallows. "It's just hard-" his voice cracks with emotion and he starts over. "Hard to move on. A part of me feels like I'm just leaving him behind if I forget the moments we spent together."

He doesn't feel like locking his emotions away this time, he's been doing it for the last couple of months and it's definitely making him worse. The reasoning makes him feel significantly better about his breakdown.

"How are Dick and Alfred holding up?"

"Better then I am, but at this point I have no idea. A part of me is afraid that Dick's distracting himself from his grief by taking care of me instead. He's spreading himself too thin with Gotham and the Teen Titans and-"

Clark stops him before he starts spilling his soul into the phone. "Alright, so work through this together. It's pretty obvious that you both need each other right now."

"I know he needs me but I don't know how-"

He can hear Clark's smile through the phone. "Bruce, c'mon, you're overthinking this. Just be there for him, trust me."

Bruce swallows audibly. "Alright."

"I'm here too, if you need me. For anything."

And shit if that doesn't make him want to start crying again. He manages to whisper his thanks and accepts Clark's casual "Anytime."

He hangs up, and heads downstairs, eating breakfast with Dick and Alfred. The rest of the day passes without incident, Dick calls Lucius and they spend his day-off relaxing in the manor and taking strolls around the grounds. Overall the day is one of the best he's had in a long time.

That doesn't stop him from going to visit Jason's grave in the middle of the night, shakily opening up his copy of Oliver Twist and reading it out loud until his tears start to blur the words.

___________________________________

iii.

He spits out curses as he walks down the street, breathing laboured under his signature red hood. His ribs are bruised and he can't seem to muster up enough energy to hide his brand new limp.

Black Mask's men had attempted to take over some of his turf once again. Usually Jason didn't mind, it was pretty low on his list of concerns. He let them have it for a couple of days before moving in, killing most of the idiots on sight. He figured Black Mask would get some better men by now but it seemed he was as much an idiot as they were.

The problem with this particular spot was that it was home to an apartment he'd brought earlier and rented out to a couple of street kids. They were all minors, some of them living on their own while others lived with roommates. If Jason was loyal to anyone it was those kids and he wasted no time going in with guns blazing.

Not exactly the nicest way to start off his 23rd birthday but hey no one could say it hadn't started off with a bang.

At least all the kids were safe. Most of Sionis's men were dead, but that was normal at this point. One of the kids stopped him as he left, concern painting his features.

"You look like shit man, stay here."

At least the kid had spunk; not all of them were brave enough to approach him. He looked about 15, barely fitting into clothes that were dirty and about two sizes too large. Jason searches his memory for a name, comes up blank. He might have been one of the kids who tagged along when he'd picked up someone else.

His musing is interrupted as the kid steps in front of him.

"I'm serious, you look like you're about to keel over."

Jason ignores the lightheaded feeling as his surroundings spin lazily around him. He clears his throat.

"I'm good. Make sure you lock the windows and doors tonight, call me if anything happens."

The kid nods, looking unconvinced. Jason pushes forward.

All he wants to do is spend the night snoozing in one of his safe houses, but the thought of sleeping in one of his cots makes him groan with discomfort. The possessions he keeps in his safe houses are always meager, he doesn't want to lose his supplies over something as stupid as being caught.

He prepares to walk home and scowls when he realizes he's going to need to stop somewhere for food, his stomach is growling. He makes a right on the next street and propels himself to the nearest grocery store, grateful that it's a dingy place with hardly any customers.

He ducks into the alley next to it and ditches his helmet, breathing in the fresh air as it comes off. He swaps it for a baseball cap and covers up his suit with a light jacket. He zips it up as he makes his way into the store, head down and steps purposeful.

He browses the shelves and picks out some water bottles and stops at the freezers to grab microwave lasagna. He grins at the thought of Alfred shuddering at his meal choices, he could practically hear the man complaining about the unhealthy ingredients used.

On his way to check out he finds a table cheerfully advertising cupcakes that are 50% off. They look like they're on the verge of expiring but it's been a while since he's had something sweet. He shrugs and picks up a pack that isn't too crushed.

He dumps his items on the conveyer belt and roots through his pocket for money, groaning internally when the price totals to $27.88. Money isn't hard to find nowadays, what with all of the connections he's gathered over the years, but a small part of him is still a starving nine year old desperate to feed himself with the little he has.

He wonders dimly if that part of him will ever fade.

He's startled out of his thoughts for the second time that night but the woman behind the cashier. He knows he needs to bandage his wounds and sleep it off, but he can't do that unless he focuses and gets his ass back to the safe house.

The woman's name tag indicates that her name is René and she peers at him worriedly from behind her glasses.

He flashes her a tired smile. "Sorry, I'm a little distracted tonight." He hands over the cash and she busies herself with the register, printing out his receipt. While the machine spits out the paper she turns to face him again.

"Are you alright? You look like you were hit by a car."

Even when Jason was a street kid, he loved to watch people. It was a great way to practice his thieving skills, finding out who would be an easy target long before slipping his hands in their pockets. One thing all citizens in Gotham had in common was their bluntness when it came to the crazy crime sprees and sudden robberies. Barely anyone batted an eye when there was a home invasion, and unless the body count was above five it wasn't even featured in the local newspapers.

To outsiders the cold disinterest might've been considered cruel, but it didn't take Jason long to figure out that it was the way that people coped. Keeping yourself numb kept the pain at bay, and he could probably relate to that fact more than anyone.

So René's reaction to an injured young man showing up at her store instead of a hospital wasn't surprising, but at least he could deal with this.

"I'm fine. Just ran into some people, you know how it goes."

She nods as she bags his items, pausing with the cupcakes.

"You sure you want these? I know it's technically my store but you seriously don't want to know how long they've been on these shelves."

He can't stop the sudden bark of laughter at her words and tries to stop himself from doubling over and crying out. He's starting to reconsider his original evaluation of the state of his ribs.

In the end all he manages is turning away and wheezing, trying to quell the coughs that makes his insides feel like they're on fire.

René stares at him with unease, looking like she wants to simultaneously pat him on the shoulder and take a couple steps back at the same time.

She settles for grabbing him a bottle of cold water from the fridge behind her, unscrewing the cap and pushing it into his shaking hands. She glares at him until he relents and takes a gulp, the cool liquid soothing his dry throat. He keeps his eyes on her as he finishes it.

"Thanks."

"If you start coughing up blood like the dude in the horror movie I saw last night I'm kicking you out. I'm not staying overtime, I got a girlfriend to binge Stranger Things with," she warns, not unkindly.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He gives her a smirk, or tries to. He'd like to think he pulled it off. "And yeah, I'll take the cupcake. I am the birthday boy after all."

She raises an eyebrow. "No kidding? I'm guessing the blood and twisted ankle is from a surprise party gone wrong?"

He doesn't grin this time, eyes focused on the bags containing his items.

He keeps his tone carefully uninterested. "Nope. Decided to celebrate the occasion on my own this year."

He doesn't miss her sigh. Once you move to Gotham you see some things on a daily basis that make you stop questioning the why behind the crimes. It's just a fact of life at this point, trees are green, pizza is good and Gotham is where bloodthirsty maniacs call home sweet home. She's probably seen thousands of tired, ragged kids on their own stumbling into her store just like he's done tonight.

The thought stirs up the familiar rage he's been carrying with him since he was little. The sick feeling that haunts him as he sleeps, the knowledge that the children in his city are raped, beaten, kidnapped and killed almost regularly.

He grabs his purchases and avoids René's gaze, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. He knows he's practically running out of the store but can't seem to give a damn.

He's already outside when he hears it, the shout muted through the glass doors.

"Happy birthday!"

It's enough to stop him in his tracks as he contemplates going back. She was nice to him, there's no reason to leave things awkward.

He settles for sticking his head back in the door and yelling out a "Thanks!" before bolting.

He heads back home, head throbbing in tune with his heart. He shrugs off the dizziness as he walks, pausing to catch his breath as he leans against the wall of a building. He inhales the sharp smell of cigarettes and gasoline, a combination he's been familiar with for longer than he can remember.

Cars speed past him, the bright lights almost dizzying as they flash across his vision. He rubs his hands against his eyes to get rid of the bright spots, trying to quell his rising nausea.

Miraculously he makes it back in one piece, and it takes all of his willpower not to collapse on his cot and pass out. He heads to the small shower and runs the water until it's hot, shedding his jacket and dirty armour. He climbs in and sighs out loud at the blissful feeling. He shampoos his dark hair, fingers dragging through his scalp as he works in the soap until it starts to foam.

He rinses it all off, wincing slightly when the hot spray of water hits the worst of his bruising. He grabs a towel and grabs some clean clothes, settling into a comfortable tee and a pair of sweatpants. He dries his hair methodically, swiping the first aid kit from his bathroom cabinet, an ice pack from the fridge and his plastic bag of items from the store.

He settles on the cot and cleans out his wounds with antiseptic. One of the cuts is deep enough for stitches, and he clenches the muscles in his jaw as he passes the needle through his skin. It's a task he's done countless times before, usually without anesthetic. He finishes the job neatly, snipping the thread and dabbing it with antiseptic before wrapping up the whole thing in gauze bandages.

He works on the bruising on his torso next, which is covered with black and blue. He rubs salve over the worst of them and bandages the rest.

His leg is last, his ankle throbbing from the walk home. He focuses on the part that's swollen and red, grimacing as he alternates between pressing the ice pack to his ankle and the bump on his head. He's fairly certain it's not bad enough to be a concussion but it's giving him a headache. He makes sure to keep his ankle elevated and rifles through his purchases, pushing the conversation with René out of his mind.

He's starving, hasn't had anything to eat all day. He's too exhausted to muster up the energy to get back up to heat his frozen dinner, so he leaves the lasagna for now and grabs the cupcake instead.

It's minuscule, barely the size of his palm and covered in bright yellow icing. Little blue sprinkles are scattered on top. He unwraps the white wrapper and takes a cautious bite.

It doesn't take long for him to register the taste and he spits it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeves. The cupcake is definitely stale, rock hard and inedible. Imagining Alfred's disapproving face makes him grin.

He decides that at least alcohol is worth getting up for and heaves himself off the cot. He's careful with his ankle, maneuvering his body to ensure that most of his weight is on his good leg.

He scoops up the frozen lasagna from the floor and heads to what substitutes for his kitchen, containing just a tiny fridge and a microwave. He puts his meal in a microwave safe dish and watches it as it cooks, grabbing a spoon and a can of beer while he waits.

The friendly beep signals that it's done, and he curses when the plate burns his fingers slightly as he walks back to his cot. He studies the books kept carefully organised on his shelf, picking one at random.

Finally he settles, sighing in relief when his twisted ankle is cushioned and iced once more. He pops the lid and takes a satisfying swallow, putting it aside to eat the lasagna.

Happy birthday to me! He thinks sarcastically. The lasagna is warm but doesn't even come close to some of the after-school snacks Alfred had made him when he was 13.

He digs through his food, pausing momentarily to flip through the book. His heart hardens when he realizes that it's a battered copy of Gone With the Wind. Memories flit through his head, Bruce reading it to make him fall asleep and Dick taking him to a library to renew his borrowed copy for the billionth time.

He figures that it's poetic enough for the occasion and opens it up to page one.

“Scarlett O’Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were. In her face were too sharply blended the delicate features of her mother, a Coast aristocrat of French descent, and the heavy ones of her florid Irish father. But it was an arresting face, pointed of chin, square of jaw. …eyes… brows… lashes… magnolia-white skin…so prized by Southern women… bonnets, veils, mittens… against hot Georgia suns.”

He smiles at the familiar words, nostalgia overtaking him as he reads.

___________________________________

iv.

Steph and Cass were the first to bring it up, crashing into his current safe house like they owned the place.

He will grudgingly admit that it isn't entirely unwelcome, spending time with his sisters makes him feel less like a bastard.

That didn't mean the topic was a good one, and Jason is willing to ditch his very nice safe house in an attempt to escape.

"Please, Jason? For us?"

Steph is practically begging at this point and Cass is looking more and more like a kicked puppy every minute.

"No. Not a chance in hell."

Steph rolls her eyes. "C'mon big bro, live a little! It's not like it'll kill you."

Cass, the little devil that she is, grins at that while he groans.

"You did not just bring up the death card." He stabs a finger in her chest. "I'm the only one who gets to use the death card."

She blows a raspberry at him at him and winks. Cass tugs on his shoulders.

"It'll be fun."

Jason snorts. "Yeah right. Spending a whole evening with my greatly extended family for a birthday bash sounds exactly like fun to me." sarcasm drips from every word as he puts air quotations around "birthday bash".

Cass hits him and glares at her.

"Alright, ow, you don't have to be mean!"

Steph grins. "Does that mean you'll come?"

Jason shakes his head and dodges the expected blow from Cass. He smirks. "No, that means I'll consider coming."

Step shrugs. "Good enough." 

Thankfully that's the worst of it and they spend the rest of the time eating chips and playing Mario Kart.

His luck doesn't last though and Tim is next. They're barely halfway through staking out a weapons drop-off when the interrogation starts.

"So, your birthday's Sunday huh?"

Jason lets out a laugh. "Subtlety was never your element."

"Everyone's hoping you'll-"

Jason waves him off. "Yeah, yeah, show up at the manor out of the blue and spend the evening with you guys, Cass and Steph already gave me the rundown."

Tim smiles at that. "I'm not surprised.” He frowns thoughtfully. “I am surprised that you didn't agree right away though, those two are fierce when they want something."

"And I'm not?" Jason can't stop himself from asking or the annoyance that comes with it.

Tim puts on a mock expression of sadness. “Don’t worry Jason, I’m sure the street thugs are still scared of you. But face it, Cass is a full blown assassin, you couldn't compare in the slightest.”

Jason shoves the younger teen and Tim cackles. “Fuck off!”

As Tim regains his balance the truck beneath them finally starts its engine. He knows Tim still wants to continue the conversation but he brushes him off hastily.

“Too bad, guess we’ll have to finish this later!”, He sings, unable to contain his smugness.

Tim scowls. “Whatever dude, but don’t come crawling back to me when Dick finally makes his move.”

And with that happy thought the pair are off into the night, conversation forgotten almost immediately.

As the week progresses he isn’t surprised to see Dick’s number ringing on his cell in the middle of a turf war. He ducks behind a car as the gunfire gets progressively louder as he groans out loud.

“Dickiebird, make this quick. I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

“Are those guns?”

Jason smirks despite his situation. “Nah, just some moron doing fireworks in his backyard.”

“In the middle of the day?”

“Who are you to judge, going out in spandex at night-”

“It’s not spandex, dammit, how many times are we going to argue about this-”

Jason cuts him off again. “Whatever dude, told you, I'm a little busy-”

His brother snorts at the end of the line. “Sure. What a busy life you lead, without a day-job and any personal relationships that haven’t been forced onto you by your loving family.”

Jason grins. “Hard day at the police station, Officer Grayson?”

Dick sighs audibly. “We’ve had three complaints filed at the station for incidents relating to this one stupid cat who invades people’s backyards. The little guy’s a menace and has no owner. I’ve been talking to angry neighbors all day today and i’m pretty sure Rowell broke the coffee machine too but he won’t admit it and I haven’t had any goddamn coffee all day today-”

Jason rubs at his eyes, trying to quell the headache that’s already forming. “Slow down, you’re starting to sound like Tim. Remind me why you work at the police station again?”

Dick sighs again and the sound flashes Jason back to Bruce after he used to return from a long day at Wayne Enterprises.

“To help people legally”, Dick drawls, annoyance creeping into his words.

Jason snaps his fingers intentionally knowing his brother can’t see him. “Exactly! If you weren’t so hell-bent on being a good person you might be less miserable on a daily basis!”

“Shut up, Jason.”

“Make me. Any reason you’re calling me in the first place?”

“Just wondering if you have plans for Sunday-”

Jason hangs up.

He’s starting to tick off the family he has left, he doubts that Bruce or Alfred will approach him and that leaves Barbara, Damian and Duke.

He decides to grab some coffee and a croissant before heading out for the day, stomach rumbling at the thought. For once he’s not in a hurry, so he smiles at the woman at the cafe who brings him his order and settles down to enjoy it on one of the park benches.

He’s taken his first bite when Damian slides in next to him, trying not to choke at the sudden appearance of the youngest Wayne.

Damian notices his reaction and smirks like the little shit he is, folding his hands neatly in his lap. After he gets over his shock he’s taken aback at how casually Damian’s dressed.

“You look relaxed”, he points out, sipping his coffee.

Damian scowls. “Tt. Jonathan’s convinced I need to blend in using civilian attire.”

Well that makes him grin. “Jonathan Kent huh?” He elbows his brother in the ribs. “Spending a lot of time with him lately, aren’t you?”

The shade of red peppering Damian’s face is gratifying and he can’t stop himself from laughing out loud as his brother fumes silently.

"There's nothing going on between me and Kent, you imbecile, and even if there was-"

Jason puts his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, jeez. But if you ever need advice or someone to talk to, I'll be here."

The offer seems to take Damian aback and his shuts up, looking thoughtful. "We'll see," he finally mutters.

Jason claps his hands. "Awesome. I'm guessing you're up next to torture me about my birthday?"

Damian nods. He puts a warning hand on his arm.

"Don't even think about running away. I'm a trained assassin, I will find you."

"Having fun is hard for you isn't it?" Jason replies idily, staring up at the blue sky.

Damian ignores the jibe. "Think about Bruce's face, Todd. He'll think he's finally gone delusional if you end up showing up."

Jason opens his mouth with mock surprise. "Are you trying to bribe me with the opportunity to give your own dad a heart attack?"

The younger boy sniffs. "He can handle it. The others just want you to be there."

He doesn't include himself in that sentence but Jason gets the message. Damian wouldn't be here if he didn't care.

Oh, how he hated to disappoint.

Damian shakes his head resolutely, a gesture so Bruce-like it gives Jason deja-vu.

"I thought that'd be your response. Which is why I came up with a back up plan."

Well fuck if he doesn't like the sound of that, recalling Damian's earlier threat when he consideres running away for the hundredth time. Damian bends over to rummage through the bag he brought with him, and Jason smiles when he sees the amount of knives instead and something that resembles a katana sheath.

Eventually his brother finds his phone and presses a few buttons, handing it to Jason with a smirk as it rings steadily.

Jason contemplates dropping the phone and stamping on it until it shatters when the person on the end picks up.

"Master Jason, I assume that's you?"

He freezes like a deer in headlights and Damian's smirk grows impossibly wider. The little shit! He knew this was going to be a deathtrap.

"Master Jason, you know it's rude to leave someone waiting."

The british accent is one he hasn't heard in a while, and the familiarity of it makes him want to tear up. He holds the phone up to his ear with a shaky hand.

"Hi, Alfred."

"Ah, you're alive. I'm assuming Master Damian has explained what this is about?"

He shoots his brother a dirty look, the other inspecting his fingers smugly.

"Yeah, he may have mentioned it."

"Excellent. You'll be at the manor on Sunday then?"

His throat is dry. "Or course."

"Wonderful. Come no later than 7, Master Jason, the others will be delighted."

"I'm sure they will", he mumbles.

Alfred hangs up after they exchange goodbyes and he hands the phone back to Damian.

"You're a cheater."

Damian shrugs. "Honestly, you should have expected that to happen eventually."

"Demon spawn," he mutters under his breath.

"Piece of shit," the younger retorts.

Jason raises his eyebrows but can't exactly say that he's surprised and resigns himself to his fate, but not before delivering some well-deserved pay back.

"So, about Jon-"

Damian shoots him a warning glare and leaves.

"Karma's a bitch little wing!" he yells at the quickly retreating form, ignoring the annoyed looks of the people around them. Jason sighs and finally finishes his croissant in peace.

So now he's standing in front of Wayne manor, trying to school his features into something that doesn't look like apprehension. He's wearing casual clothing, jeans and a sweater. A part of him wanted to wear his full Red Hood suit just to get under the idiot's skins but there was no way he was wearing full bullet proof armour all evening long.

He jogs past the fancy garden sculptures and fountains, letting himself into the unlocked house. He makes his way through the foyer, finding his family huddled around an Xbox playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare.

The group is laughing, smiles all around as they banter back and forth. His heart aches dimly to be a part of that something, an intense yearning to be integrated into their family dynamic. It looked so easy.

The moment's ruined as soon as Dick spots him and wraps him up in a hug. "You made it!" The grin on his face is blinding. "Guys, birthday boy has arrived!"

Fuck this. This family sucks.

"Jesus Dickface, get off-"

"You're crushing him Dick", Barbara says, tone reproachful.

And jeez, literally everyone is there. Tim, Duke and Steph are crouched on the floor, still engrossed in the video game. Damian is standing beside Dick, looking too smug for his own good. Barbara and Cass are right behind them.

Someone starts to ruffle his hair as they walk past. He's about to shove the hand away when he sees who it belongs to.

"Aunt Kate?"

Kate grins. "Good to see you kid. Happy birthday!"

"I wasn't expecting you to be here."

Kate shrugs. "Life's been slow recently and besides, there was no way I was going to miss a Wayne party!"

He laughs at that, making his way over to give her a hug. Kate has always been one of his favorite people, he distinctly remembers the chocolate she used to smuggle to him when Bruce wasn't looking and she hung out during patrol.

Bruce and Alfred are next to enter the room, and Jason smirks when he sees Bruce stop his sentence abruptly when he sees his second son. Jason catches Damian's eye as he winks.

"Hey Bruce."

Bruce cautiously steps forward, unease rippling across his features. Things have been better lately but some wounds take longer to heal then others. He squashes the guilt as Tim's bloody face flashes beneath his eyelids.

"It's good to see you Jason."

Jason spreads his hands. "It took some convincing," he replies, words directed at the others. Tim smiles and Dick laughs.

Alfred wastes no time drawing him into a tight hug, one that no one comments on after Jason gathers his composure.

Alfred smiles brightly at all of them, and fuck, Jason knows that coming was worth it.

"Dinner will be served shortly, if you all want to follow me to the kitchen?"

There's a mutter of agreement around the room and Jason is soon swept into various activities. Dick grabs the plates while Bruce helps Alfred with the dishes. Cass and Duke chat as they swipe cutlery while Tim and Steph set the table. Damian carries the knives, rather ominously in Jason's opinion but no one bats an eye.

There's some jostling as everyone finds a seat, Damian and Tim shoving each other to get the chair next to Dick. Cass finally sighs and switches with Tim, whose face brightens considerably.

He chats to Dick quietly about things in Blüdhaven, Bruce resuming his conversation with Alfred and Tim. The girls talk about school, Damian bringing up the art show he's participating in next week. The food is as good as he remembers, roast paired off with potatoes and countless salads, sauces and side dishes. Unfortunately there's no alcohol but he eats enough for two.

As the food is cleared away and multiple praises are directed Alfred's way for the meal, they drag Jason to another room. He grins when Steph pulls out the alcohol.

Damian and Tim groan out loud and Kate shoves them. "Don't worry, I'm sure there's juice in the fridge", she teases. Damian scowls at her.

Alfred informs them that he'll be in the kitchen preparing dessert and he leaves promptly, Damian following him to the fridge.

Bruce raises an eyebrow at his daughter. "We do have better drinks."

Steph shrugs. "I'm convinced there's a difference between getting drunk on fancy red wine and getting wasted on cheap beer that's past its expiry date."

Bruce relents, an incredulous look on his face. They sit in a circle, passing chilled bottles around.

Steph grins. "We're gonna play 'Most Likely'."

A mixture of gasps of delight mingle with complaints as the room descends into chaos again.

Steph raises a finger and whistles piercingly. "Ah ah ah, no buts. We're playing. It's simple, one person says a scenario and everyone else chooses a person in the group who they think is most likely to do it. The person with the most votes takes a drink."

Duke opens his bottle and takes a gulp, laughing at Dick' expression, Damian returning with cranberry juice for Tim and himself.

Cass laughs. "I'll start. Most likely to set the manor on fire?"

Bruce chokes at that one, eyes flashing dangerously. Jason grins. The votes are casted here and there but when he counts most of them are on Kate.

The woman in question smirks and gives a mock bow as she takes a swig of her beer.

"Can't say that I disagree."

That makes a bunch of them nod and laugh out loud. Kate swallows and starts the next question. "Most likely to get punched in the face by a stranger?"

Jason can count six other hands pointing at Dick, including his own.

The five others are pointed in his directions, but like Kate's answer earlier he can't really argue. He's gotten punched by tons of strangers, usually people undercover for Roman Sionis or other drug dealers he's managed to piss off. He takes a mouthful of beer, smiling from the burn.

"What are you talking about?" Dick complains. "I'm a nice person!"

"Sure, but you're also oblivious as fuck-"

"Language." Bruce mutters.

"-and you can't catch a hint to save your life. I can name some of the girls and guys who've flirted with you and didn't get a reaction," Tim finishes.

Dick pouts dramatically and takes a drink. "Most likely to giveaway hints by accident while playing poker?"

That one causes an uproar and Jason can't really choose who gets this one. They're all pretty decent liars, they have to be in their line of work. He ends up picking Barbara, only because she's had trouble keeping Batgirl a secret from her dad.

He's not the only one who brings that up and the votes are tied between her and Duke. The pair each take a drink.

Duke chews his lip as he thinks, brow furrowed in concentration. His face lights up when he figures out what to say.

"Most likely to use their kids as an excuse to get out of commitments?"

Simultaneously, everyone points at Bruce, who looks guilty and amused at the same time.

"How many times did you tell Wayne Enterprises I was sick as a kid to leave a meeting early, B?" Dick asks with a raised eyebrow.

Bruce smirks. "Not nearly enough times, those meetings give me migraines."

He unscrews the cap and takes a long swallow, his kids cheering. He shoots Steph a look. "You prefer this to red wine?"

Steph grins and nods, Cass and Barbara agreeing along with her.

Kate claps him on the back. "That's more like it!"

Bruce smiles and proceeds with the game. "Most likely to kill someone out of spite."

Jason counts two fingers pointing in his direction, one at Tim while the rest point to Damian.

The youngest Wayne scowls, raising his glass and taking a grudging sip of his juice, eyeing Dick's bottle wistfully. Dick gets the memo and pulls his beer away from his younger brother, tightening his hold just in case.

The game continues for the next hour, all of them getting progressively more drunk as the sun sets. Tim's declared to be the 'one who's most likely to be a criminal mastermind', Bab's 'most likely to run for president'. Alfred steps in just in time to win 'most likely to manage to survive while being stranded on an island'.

Overall, Jason is happy and sleepy and wasted.

The cake is brought out, cheers ringing out as plates and forks are passed around. The cake is shoved in his hands, and he takes a moment to blink with surprise.

"You made a cake in the shape of my helmet?"

It's really the only possible explanation, the cake is absolutely drenched in red frosting. It's in the shape of an oval, frosted white slits substituting for where his eyes would be. It's bigger than his actual helmet, and Jason turns it around to inspect it from all angles. A single candle glows brightly on top.

He stares at them. Dick and Alfred are squeezing his shoulder supportingly, Tim and Duke flashing him grins. Kate looks nostalgic as she hands him a knife, Damian's face carefree. Barbara starts to sing happy birthday softly, Steph joining in while Cass gives him a hug.

"Happy birthday chum," Bruce whispers, eyes bright as they reflect the flames. He smiles in response and blows out his candle.

Tim nudges him. "What did you wish for?"

To stay here forever.

Jason snorts. "I wished that one of those birthday presents you all suck at hiding contains a new gun."

Dick laughs at his response and Alfred smiles. Cass gives him a comforting look however, and not for the first time Jason's taken aback at how well she can read him.

It doesn't take long for everyone to settle down with a piece of cake. Jason takes his first bite and sees stars. It's just moist enough and the icing melts perfectly on his tongue. He gives Alfred an appreciative nod.

As the plates are returned to the kitchen they all find themselves in front of the TV, arguing on which movie to watch.

"For the last fucking time Dickface, no one wants to watch Dumbo because it makes you cry every single time his mom gets taken away!" Jason retorts.

Tim opens his mouth hopefully.

Damian cuts him off before he can even speak. "The same goes for you, asshole. No more Lion King fiascos."

Tim shoves Damian and he stumbles, both of them tackling each other to the ground. Kate claps slowly while Bruce breaks it up.

Jason takes the opportunity and steals the remote, grinning with triumph.

"It doesn't matter what you losers want, it's my birthday so I'm picking." There's a chorus of groans and Jason's smile widens. He scrolls through the Netflix suggestions and finally decides on Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

Steph yells with excitement and throws a pillow at Duke who groans, Cass's features morphing into one of confusion.

Barbara shrugs. "It's a classic."

Jason whoops as the movie starts, all of them fighting for popcorn and soda. Halfway through the film the mood gets increasingly more relaxed. Dick’s head is on his shoulder, Damian’s fighting for more leg room with Tim on his other side. The girls are spread out on the floor, Cass’s head in Steph’s lap, Babs sitting comfortably in her wheelchair beside the couch. Duke is falling asleep on Bruce, who Jason realizes is already asleep, snoring lightly into the cushions. Kate’s perched on the edge of the sofa’s armrest, watching the movie with interest. The only person who still looks dignified is Alfred, lounging in a chair he’s pulled up.

The movie marathon continues with Steph’s suggestion, Mean Girls, and they’re halfway through King Kong when they finally shut off the TV. Alfred wakes Duke and Bruce, Cass and Tim pulling Jason through the room for presents.

The pile of presents is larger then he would have guessed, boxes covered in shiny wrapping paper and small parcels. Everyone scrambles to sit around Jason, pushing their gifts forwards. He doesn’t know if he should be amused or terrified at the looks of eagerness around the room.

Kate gives him her present first, grinning slyly at her cousin. Bruce frowns, knowing he’s not going to appreciate what’s in the package. Jason tears the wrapping paper and lovingly pulls out one of the knives from its sheath.

He holds it out and tests the balance. “Well these’ll be useful.”

Steph hands him his present next, the weird object decked out in black wrapping paper with comic style font all over it. He squeezes it and scowls immediately. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

Steph shakes her head, eyes bright with mischief. The plushy Jason’s holding is a frog that looks like it’s seen better days, a dirty brown color that may have originally been green. One of the buttons used for eyes has popped off and he's pretty sure the hole at the bottom has been leaking stuffing for years.

He holds it up to face her and she smirks. The others are laughing as well. "What the hell is this?"

"Your birthday gift!", she sings. "Found him at a thrift store last week and I couldn't just leave the poor guy there, his eyes are so full of love, you know?"

"You mean eye, singular,” he points out.

"So he's a cyclops, why does it matter? Turn it around."

He does, biting back the urge to start laughing uncontrollably. The front of the sorry looking toad indicates that his name is Jason. He groans out loud when he sees the tell-tale smear of sharpie under the frog's name.

Jason Toad.

Dick throws his head back and laughs, while Babs gives Steph a high five.

"Yeah, yeah, very funny. Now shut up or I'll leave him here." He abandons the plushy and grabs the nearest gift instead.

The package is soft and he crinkles the wrapping paper as it tears. His breath catches when he finally sees his present in its full glory.

"Whoever brought me this is automatically my favorite sibling." his gaze slides over to Damian and Tim and reconsiders. "Unless it's Replacement or Demon Spawn, they can be promoted to third."

Tim rolls his eyes and Damian shoots him a disinterested stare.

"Be nice Master Jason", Alfred chides lightly.

Duke puts a hand on his shoulder. "Guess I win then."

Jason grins at the other man. "Thanks dude, way better choice then the toad."

He wastes no time pulling on the soft leather jacket, stretching his shoulders out comfortably and digging his hands into the pockets.

Tim's present turns out to be a key-chain with a mini chainsaw attached, because "Bruce wouldn't let me buy you a real chainsaw."

All of his other gifts are just as good, Alfred gives him Bluetooth headphones, a brand new copy of Life of Pi from Dick plus boots and eyeliner from both Barbara and Cass respectively.

Damian's present is one of the last and when he pulls apart the wrapping paper he’s left with a thin rectangular box. He stares at his younger brother.

“If this is jewelry it better be nice.”

Damian shakes his head, a small smile forming on his lips. “Better than jewelry.”

The gift turns out to be bullets, all of different sizes and shapes. They’re organized carefully, each with a label attached underneath.

Jason studied one that’s sleek and silver, little slits in the sides. The little lettering in the case lets him know that this one is filled with gas. He grins.

“Are these personalized?”

Damian nods. “Each and every one, tailored to your favorite gun. I modified the version father uses for his Batarangs and transferred it to work with bullets.” He shrugs. “I figured they were more your style.”

Jason stares at him, silent for a beat before turning back to the weapon. “Fine, I guess you can be my fourth favorite sibling.”

Tim huffs. “I helped him with the tech.”

Damian elbows him smugly.

He almost doesn't register Bruce standing in the back until the chatter dies out. His adopted dad looks like a kicked puppy and Jason feels an unexpected fondness shoot through his heart.

"You have something for me Bruce?"

Suddenly something is roughly being shoved into his hands and he stares at the thin object for a second. The room goes silent, the entire group fixated on Jason and Bruce.

The slips of paper are familiar and he swears he's held them before. He turns them over to read the minuscule writing.

Gotham City Knights vs Gotham Giants

Featured in Gotham City Stadium

Mon Aug 31 2020 7:30 PM

“You got me baseball tickets?”

Bruce clears his throat and presses on, looking uncomfortable. “You used to love going as a kid, and I brought two so you could take someone with you if you wanted.”

Jason’s voice catches and he swallows around the lump in his throat. “Sure, are you free Monday?”

Bruce’s “Yes” sounds more like a croak but it’s there, an open invitation to spend some time together. It’s not an apology but it’s a start, and he’ll take it. Jason’s heart swells.

After that they all goad him into sleeping over, an offer he would have declined if not for Alfred’s stern glances. They decide to grab some pillows and blankets and settle on the floor, everyone comfortable and sleepy.

Well, if anything, it’s not the worst birthday he’s ever had.

[meterokinesis]

Skin and Bones

Read it on AO3

Prompt: Starvation

TW: Hunger/food insecurity, ED mention (very short), Implied/referenced drug use

Summary: Jason Todd knew what hungry felt like. Hunger and Jason had always been bosom buddies.

Jason Todd knew what being hungry felt like.

That’s always what they called it when he was a little kid and the teachers tried to pretend that most of their class had full bellies. They’d say “when you haven’t had lunch yet, you’re hungry. But when you don’t eat for days, that’s hunger.”

Hunger and Jason were bosom buddies, and had been for years.

It was bad enough when it was just him and Catherine. At least then he could pilfer through her pockets for enough loose change to buy them rice and bread and beans. It wasn’t much, but it kept them alive in between the free lunches Jason got at school.

It got worse when Catherine had to be admitted to the hospital. Jason wasn’t stupid--he’d gotten an A on that last English paper. He knew that she was doing drugs. He knew that their food money went into plastic baggies full of powder and who-knows-what-else. He knew that their already low budget would be gone as soon as the hospital started sending bills.

He started stealing parts off cars that he passed on the walk home, then selling them to the shady guys at the garage. He’d sneak what he could from pockets and couches and placed it in places no one would ever notice. Bills rolled up in the toes of his sneakers, pennies and nickels shoved into his sock drawer. Jason was good at sneaking around already, but he learned to be even better. His life depended on it.

Catherine died the Friday after Valentine’s Day. Her hospital room was full of discount flowers and cheap chocolates. She squeezed his hand before she died, and she smiled. Her smile was unmatched, totally unique. In the days that passed afterwards, Jason would wonder if his smile ever looked like hers.

As Catherine’s breathing slowed and then stopped, Jason snuck out of the fourth floor and onto the street below. He had one, maybe two days left in the apartment before CPS found him and tried to force him into a foster home.

He’d rather die than go there.

So Jason Todd, eleven years old and barely five feet tall, broke into his apartment to survey the life he was leaving behind. Some of it was easy. He could afford to take two bags: a backpack and a duffel. The duffel got a pair of boots, a pair of sneakers, five sets of clothes, jackets, and a copy of Huckleberry Finn. He’d already read Tom Sawyer, he didn’t need to bring that too.

The backpack got essentials, like his toothbrush and toothpaste, his school ID, the money he’d saved up, and another set of clothes. His birth certificate and Social Security card were wedged under the loose floorboard already, so he left them there. When his path led him to the kitchen, Jason swallowed hard before grabbing a knife and a pair of scissors, then wrapping them both carefully and placing them in the backpack too.

He crawled into his bed, with its blue striped bedsheets, and tried to fall asleep. The sounds of Gotham weren’t comforting anymore, but rather like every monster under his bed amplified. He was too old to be scared of things that weren’t there, but every Gothammite knew that the city was not to be trifled with. The city he’d soon be in the heart of.

The clinking of keys on the apartment’s old doorknob woke him up. He’d always been a light sleeper, but for a second he thought it was maybe just Catherine coming home. Then he remembered how she’d never come home again. Jason was out of bed in a matter of seconds, grabbing his bags, tugging on his shoes, and climbing down the fire escape. The old watch he’d taken from Catherine’s room--he thought it was his dad’s--read 7:12, which meant it was really 3:17. Jason crept through the streets, not letting his heart catch up with his head. He’d have to squat somewhere for the night, maybe an abandoned warehouse or something. He’d found a few while adventuring the summer before, and not all of them could have been blown up in the last eight months.

“Clinton and Hall has a good one,” he mumbled to himself, steering his feet that way. It was cold, even for February, but he had no choice. It was either walk seven blocks now or walk straight to CPS. He’d take the seven blocks.

It was a quiet night, at least for Crime Alley. There were the usual shady guys doing deals in the back alleys and the over-rouged women in heels and too-short skirts, but at least no one was running around trying to blow the city up again. A night without Batman and Robin coming around was a good night, as far as Jason was concerned.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Batman, just that he tended to invite more trouble than he did away with. Even the most well-intentioned people couldn’t fix Crime Alley. Jason would know, he was Crime Alley through and through.

He finally reached the warehouse and dragged himself up seven flights of stairs, where there was an office that sat mostly untouched. There was a boarded-up window and the walls were probably full of asbestos, but the door locked, so as far as Jason was concerned it was great. The boy placed his duffel bag under his head and slipped his backpack around so it covered his stomach. As the first breaths of sleep came to him, he could hazily feel hunger stab at his stomach. He hadn’t eaten in three days.

                                         _______________

In the eight months since Jason had taken to the street, he’d learned a few things: trust people sparingly, only share if you have enough, and never let anyone give you shit. His copy of Huck Finn was tattered now, but it was the only real piece of home he had left.

He wasn’t alone by any means. There had been some older kids who had taken him under their wing for a few weeks back in April, but they got busted for dealing and Jason hadn’t seen them since. He and his occasional allies worked pretty well, a shared meal here, a hand-me-down there. Life wasn’t so bad like this, if you were careful.

Stealing the tires off the Batmobile wasn’t careful.

Jason felt Batman before he saw him. The guy just had that kind of energy, like a horror villain. But Jason already had three wheels off, with one stashed nearby, so there was really no point in stopping now.

“Excuse me, what are you doing?” The gruff voice asked, and that’s when Jason knew he was well and thoroughly fucked.

He didn’t answer, because Jason was never the type to admit guilt. A large hand fell on his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but jump. Batman turned him around, more gently than Jason thought he treated most criminals.

“Kid, you’ve gotta be what, thirteen? Come on, put those tires back on and get in the car.”

Well, Jason might be reckless enough to steal from Batman, but he wasn’t dumb enough to make himself an enemy. So, he silently put the tires back on the Batmobile and turned to face Batman. He was just as intimidating as everyone said he was.

“I know that you have stuff stashed somewhere,” Batman prompted, like he’d already seen thousands of alley kids today.

“Behind the dumpsters,” Jason muttered, staring at his scuffed-up sneakers.

Batman ducked behind the dumpster, and emerged with the two bags and a tire. Jason sheepishly put the last tire back, then stood and opened his hands for his bags. His hands were stained with dirt and grease, like black blood.

“In the car,” Batman ordered, and Jason’s stomach dropped.

“No!” He cried, his throat as dry as bone. “Please, you can’t turn me in. They’ll send me into the system or juvie or something. I’ll die in there, I know kids who have.” As much as he wished that was a lie, it wasn’t. Foster kids didn’t last long in Gotham.

Batman hesitated a moment, then spoke again. “Fine. Get in the car. I won’t take you to CPS, but I can’t let you go back on the streets.” His voice was firm, but also gentle. It was… strange.

Jason nodded, and tucked himself into the passenger side. Batman sat down in the driver’s seat, and with a reminder to fasten his seatbelt, the pair was off.

The drive wasn’t particularly long, but Jason was antsy all the same. His heart thundered as they entered a long tunnel in the side of what looked like a mountain, but Jason was pretty sure that there were no mountains in Gotham. Finally, they parked in some sort of weird cave-garage-thing. Batman turned to Jason, and looked him in the eyes.

“I have a doctor here. She’s going to take a look at you and make sure you’re okay. You can spend the night here. Then, we’ll discuss other options. No matter what, you’re not going on the street again.” He said this all in a perfunctory manner, but it was polite nonetheless.

Jason scrambled out of the Batmobile, only to see a familiar face waiting for him.

“Hello, Jason.” Dr. Thompkins smiled, and he tried to hide his surprise that she remembered him. He hadn’t been to the clinic in at least a year.

“Hi, Dr. T,” he mumbled.

“Alright, let’s get started. Can you sit down over here for me?” Jason followed her gesture, only to see a full clinic set up. What kind of garage was this? He nodded absently and shuffled over, then sat on the crinkly paper.

Dr. Thompkins walked him through a normal check up, with some added questions about how the past year had been. The whole time, she kept glancing at his face, like she expected him to start crying at any moment.

“So, Jason, I’m so sorry to hear about your mom.” She said as she tested his reflexes. His heart lurched in his chest, but he tried to keep his face from betraying him.

“... Thanks.” He mumbled, then left it at that.

Dr. Thompkins finished the exam, then stepped away to speak to Batman. Jason laid down to stare at the wall, but he couldn’t help but overhear some snippets of conversation.

“... known him for years… neonatal abstinence syndrome… only eighty pounds… severely malnourished… needs individualized support…”

The conversation trailed off as footsteps padded back into the room.

“Alright, so we have to get you up to date on vaccinations, and then you’re all done with me. You’re brave, you’ll be okay.” Jason nodded, and she injected the first vaccine. After three more, his arm was sore and his head was heavy. Dr. Thompkins led him to a reclining position, then pulled the curtain shut.

“Goodnight, Jason. It’s going to be okay.”

                                            _______________

Jason hadn’t expected to like the Imposter’s girlfriend so much, but he did. Stephanie got it in a way no one else did. The pair sat on a Crime Alley rooftop, sharing a combo meal from BatBurger.

“-And then, they accused me of being anorexic! Like no, I don’t have an eating disorder, I just can’t afford to eat more than saltines and water!” Stephanie rambled, gesturing wildly with a fry. “Seriously, I don’t think I ate an actual meal that wasn’t made by a lunch lady until I was fourteen.”

Jason chuckled, “My first big meal was when Bruce took me in. Until then, I thought having pizza or chicken nuggets for dinner was a splurge.”

Stephanie quieted, then looked from the carton of fries to Jason.

“Hey, does it ever get easier? Do you ever stop panicking when you grocery shop or when you treat yourself to lunch?” She questioned, her voice hoarse.

Jason took another bite of his burger.

“No. No, it doesn’t.”

[thesandsofelsweyr]

THE CLIMB

《 READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

My reimagining of how Jason escaped Arkham Asylum and ended up in Venezuela (Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 5 Retelling)

《RATING》 Unrated 《WORDS》 5,758 《CHAPTERS》 3/?

《CHARACTERS》 Jason Todd, Slade Wilson, Original Male Character, Joker (mentioned), Bruce Wayne (mentioned), Catherine Todd (mentioned), Willis Todd (mentioned)

《TROPES》 Angst, Whump, Fix-It

《WARNINGS》 Implied/Referenced Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Injury, Head Injury, Delirium, Hallucinations, Flashbacks, Near Death Experiences, Suicidal Thoughts, Past Child Abuse, Swearing

《SERIES》 Part 6 of My Arkhamverse

《NOTES》

The title of this fic (“The Climb”) is a reference to the in-game City Story of how Jay ended up in Joker’s clutches (the inverse of that story's title, “The Fall”)

My Arkhamverse canon consists of a mix between game canon and Arkham Knight: Genesis canon. I pick and choose what I like best 😉

If you enjoy the read please consider kudosing, commenting, and reblogging 🧡

《 READ ON AO3 》 (excerpt below the cut)

His head is pounding. His heart is racing. His breath is ragged. His world is spinning. Every step he takes should be his last, but he keeps pushing forward, leaning against the corridor wall for support, dragging his useless ankle behind him.

“Attention! Code Black. Arkham facilities are on lockdown…”

“Shut… the… fuck… up…” He wheezes each word in sync with his faltering footsteps, speaking in vain to the lifeless female who’s annoying him from the speakers mounted above. Every five minutes without fail the automated voice warns him about the chaos on the surface. Why the hell is this message playing down here? Everyone has forgotten that this buried wing of Arkham even exists. Everyone except him… his jailers… his master…

Fluid trickles down the backs of his thighs and legs as he limps along. He ignores it. It’s blood and pus from the pressure sores that have opened on his ass, irritated by his sudden decision to stand up and move after several days of nothing. He hadn’t had the strength or will to move until he heard the muted sounds from above break the silence of his grave: sirens, shouting, gunshots. Then that damn message started repeating, urging him to do something, anything except sit there on the hard floor of his cage and listen until it robbed him of what little remained of his sanity.

He’s dying. His broken body has finally reached its limit. All the King’s horses and all the King’s men won’t be able to put me back together again… After all of the times he begged for death, shouldn’t he be grateful to the merciful deity who finally decided to give a shit? Yet, he creeps on, finding the strength to stay alive a little while longer from, what, not wanting to disappoint the psycho who has relentlessly tormented him… every day of his worthless life… for over a year? Yep. The thought makes him want to hurl but he has to swallow that awful truth. No one else wanted him, and as much as he tries to deny it, he needs to be needed.

He last saw the Clown probably about two weeks ago. (Of course, that’s just a rough guess time-wise. He quit keeping track of the days once he accepted that no one was coming to rescue him, that the people he thought had cared about him were totally fine with him rotting away in this hell.) Joker had told him he had to go away for a while, to be a good boy, eat his vegetables, brush his teeth, blah blah blah. Then he broke his ankle for the seventh time to make sure he’d stay out of trouble. And Jason had thanked him for it like he had been trained. (That memory stirs up a lot of shit that he doesn’t have the brain power to process right now so he ignores it.) The orderly who Joker called “Right” had brought him cold soup and lukewarm water a few times after Joker left then he also disappeared. That was a little over two days ago, judging by his dehydration symptoms.

Right used to have a co-worker, Left. Right and Left were usually given the honor of dragging him to the office-cum-torture chamber, and either tying him to a chair or hanging him from a meat hook. Poor Left was dead now though. Dead from a bullet between his eyes, from a gun Jason fired. Left had actually tried to be nice to him once or twice—more than anyone else in this shithole—and that’s definitely what got him killed. But Jason’s “partner in crime” had given him the order to murder the man in cold blood, and he had obeyed. He’s really good at obeying these days. His partner then rewarded him with a pat on the head and a blanket. He had felt more about the reward (pride, gratitude) than he did about the blood on his hands (nothing). That’s what 12+ months of torture and gaslighting will do to you.

The drafty corridor he’s hobbling down is dimly lit by a handful of emergency floodlights. The armed Arkham guards who the Clown paid off to patrol these halls must’ve joined the chaos above. He hopes so at least. This could always be another one of his games. A test of loyalty for his “little bird,” the same little bird who has flown away from his cage in search of food and water. The thought makes him uneasy but he presses on. A dead sidekick isn’t gonna be as much fun to play with. No one to make squeal when he gets bored. Abandoned offices and storage rooms—copies of his cage—line both sides of the hallway. He isn’t interested in what they hold (cubicles, desks, chairs, filing cabinets, stacks of cardboard boxes filled with paper medical records from before this asylum joined the 21st century, dust… photos… pain). His destination is a bathroom. The bathroom with the working shower for the poor, overworked asylum administrators who never stepped foot down in this pit. At least he got to take advantage of it once. The memory of that mindfuck makes his skin crawl. That bathroom has running water though, and he desperately needs water if he wants to stick around for the Clown.

That bathroom also happens to be dangerously close to the exit…

“Attention! Code Black. Arkham facilities are on lockdown…”

He isn’t leaving. He has to keep reminding himself of that because his thoughts are clouded by exhaustion and starvation and dehydration, and his weary mind is vulnerable to temptation. The other kid, the one who should’ve died months ago when a bullet ripped through his skull, Robin; well, Robin thinks this is his best chance to escape; to get out, run to the cops who are above ground right now, and maybe find some medical attention before he drops dead. But his fear is still strong enough to overpower the failed sidekick… the gut-twisting fear—no, certainty—of what will happen to him if he’s caught trying to escape again…

His addled brain frantically struggles to push away those horrific memories of what happened to him after his last escape attempt but he’s too weak to fight even a mental battle. When the dam breaks, and his memories flood in, overwhelming him, pulling him down into that whirlpool of misery, he’s forced to relive every moment of that brutal punishment. The beatings… the humiliation… the claw hammer… The dull, lingering pain from all of the torture he’s endured seemingly reignites, sparking a chain reaction of agony that courses through every bone, muscle, joint, and organ in his ravaged body. It’s all too much for him to bear. He moans, stumbles, and finally collapses. 

4 minutes pass…

“Attention! Code Black. Arkham facilities are on lockdown…”

With an even louder moan he somehow rolls his soon-to-be-corpse over onto his scarred back on the cracked tile floor. He stares up at the ceiling with empty bloodshot eyes. He could die here, right here, in this very spot. He could make that choice—the first decision he’s made for himself in… well, forever. He could finally be in control of his own destiny, as pathetic as it may be. He could finally be in control. He’s so. Fucking. Tired. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to finally rest without the threat of another punishment looming over him? He wouldn’t have to face another day with his master’s initial permanently seared into his cheek, a constant reminder of what he let himself become. He wouldn’t have to live with the heartrending knowledge that not a single person on the planet cared that he was suffering every day of his life, not even the man who he once considered his father. He wouldn’t have to live with all of his failures.

He wouldn’t hurt anymore… wouldn’t feel powerless anymore... He wouldn’t feel anything anymore. He would be free.

Read the rest on AO3→

[ao3feed-superbat]

Sensible madness

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/34NkxPp

by Anna12aot

What if Kate and Bruce were born around the same time? What if the tragedies that made them the heroes they become, also happened around the same time? What if the two of them ended up living together? What if the two of them ended up as huge theater nerds? What if they had some actual healthy coping mechanisms along side their totally not super unhealthy vigilante detective hobby that nearly kills them on a weekly basis? What if everything wasn't a shitty cheap ass drama show written by racist, misogynist, homophobic, all the bad ism's and phobia's and ist's?

(No disrespect to the individuals who try to give us good diverse content. Actually, all the respect because DC as whole is a weak dumb ass bitch and kudos to those people for tolerating that bastard.)

Here is my sad, pathetic attempt to fix the DC universe that I am very much under qualified and under prepared for. Enjoy. (And I'll get to finishing the relationship tags soon, it's just not on the agenda right about now. There is just so many fucking characters. The character tags are technically unfinished because that won't be all of the characters showing up. Do I really hate myself and DC that much?)

Words: 633, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Wonder Woman - All Media Types, Wonder Woman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood, Red Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League: War, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017), Teen Titans (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Kate Kane, Alfred Pennyworth, Lucius Fox, Jim Gordon, Helena Bertinelli, Harold Allnut, Hiro Okamura, Vic Sage, Renee Montoya, Patrick "Eel" O'Brian, Zatanna Zatara, Basil Karlo, Talia al Ghul, Selina Kyle, Holly Robinson, Kitrina Falcone, Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, Rose Wilson, Grant Wilson (DCU), Joseph Wilson, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Gus Yale, Wendy Harris, Jacob Kane, Catherine Hamilton Kane, Diana (Wonder Woman), Jason Todd, Koriand'r (DCU), Roy Harper, Bette Kane, Duke Thomas, Tim Drake, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Stephanie Brown, Billy Batson, Harper Row, Cullen Row, Shawn Tsang, Natalia Knight, Sasha Bordeaux, Carrie Kelley, Jaina Hudson, Cassandra Cain, Cheyenne Freemont, Tiffany Fox, Luke Fox, Barry Allen, Wally West, Bart Allen, Jay Garrick, Iris West, Max Mercury, Clark Kent, Kara Zor-El, Kara Danvers, Lois Lane, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Jonathan "Pa" Kent, Martha Wayne, Martha Kent, Thomas Wayne, Sam Lane, Lucy Lane (DCU), Donna Troy, Cassie Sandsmark, Artemis of Bana-Mighdall, Akila of Bana-Mighdall, Queen Hippolyta, Atalanta, Antiope (Wonder Woman), Bana-Mighdall Amazons, The Amazons (Wonder Woman), Grace Choi, Anissa Pierce, Jefferson Pierce, Jennifer Pierce, Oliver Queen, Thea Queen, Emiko Queen, Dinah Lance, Hal Jordan, Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz, Simon Baz, Jon Stewart, Kyle Rayner, Jade Nguyen, Jennifer-Lynn Hayden, Artemis Crock, Ra's al Ghul, Nyssa Raatko, Silver St. Cloud, Wildcat (DCU), Tatsu Yamashiro, Jason Blood, Jason Bard, Crispus Allen, Kate Spencer, Onyx Adams, Boston Brand, David Zavimbe, Calvin Rose, Jean-Paul Valley, Santiago Varga, Baber Shah, Percy Sheldrake, Cyril Sheldrake, Jiro Osamu, Lonnie Machin, Harriet Cooper, Agatha Wayne, Vicki Vale, Harley Quinn, Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Harvey Dent, Joker (DCU), Jonathan Crane, Waylon Jones, Bane (DCU), Roman Sionis, Floyd Lawton, Hugo Strange, Thomas Elliot, Drury Walker, Jervis Tetch, Victor Fries, Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma, Cyrus Gold, Solomon Grundy (DCU), Shauna Belzer, Peyton Riley, Ulysses Hadrian Armstrong, Vandal Savage, Noah Kuttler, Julian Gregory Day (DCU), Thomas Blake (DCU), Arthur Brown, Count Vertigo, Garfield Lynns, Warren White, Charles "Chuck" Brown, Zeus (Wonder Woman), Onomatopoeia (DCU), Peter Merkel, Peter Merkel Jr., Deever Tweed, Dumfree Tweed, Victor Zsasz, Ben Turner, David Cain, Titus (DCU), Lady Shiva, Lazlo Valentin, Barton Mathis, Matilda Mathis, Mark Desmond, Mortimer Drake, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Ace the Bat-Hound, Bat-Cow (DCU)

Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Clark Kent, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Kate Kane & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Jim Gordon & Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Kate Kane, Kate Kane/Renee Montoya (past), Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne (past), Kate Kane & Jason Todd, Helena Bertinelli & Kate Kane & Jason Todd, Kate Kane & Clark Kent, Kate Kane & Alfred Pennyworth, Kate Kane & Oliver Queen, Kate Kane & Damian Wayne, Kate Kane & John Stewart, Bruce Wayne & Kara Zor-El, Barbara Gordon & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Zatanna Zatara, Hal Jordan & Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox & Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox & Luke Fox & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Kate Kane, Cassandra Cain & Kate Kane, Luke Fox & Kate Kane

Additional Tags: No Smut, No Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Canon Compliant, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, will try to remember to add them later, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, I am trying to fix the entire DCU while very much trying not to, This was supposed to be like just about the Batfam, But I started doing research, and it was really confusing, Then I got angry, and then hyped, and this happened, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Author Regrets Everything, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, How Do I Tag, Batfamily (DCU), Protective Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), fuck you dc, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Please Kill Me, I Tried, I Don't Even Know, some people die, no one stays dead, but god, God is Dead, Cause I killed him for letting DC continue this shit show, Nothing makes any fucking sense, This doesn't make any sense, It's a fucking mari go round of bullshit, enjoy, Explicit Language, To Be Edited, Not Beta Read, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Young Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Growing Up Together, Romani Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Kate Kane is a Good Parent, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon Knows, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Is Gay, And they're all panicked gays, Fluff and Angst, Family Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Humor, Gallows Humor, Bruce Wayne's Sense of Humor, Jason Todd’s Morbid Humor, this is gonna get long, Like over a few hundred thousand, Or this will die after it's reached 3k, Don't Like Don't Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Childhood Trauma, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Because of arkham, Arkham Asylum, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships, read the tags, Tags May Change, Tags Are Hard, Body Image, Jewish Character, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Rewrite, Hispanic Character, Black Character(s), Native American Character(s), Arab Character, Arab Damian Wayne, We Die Like Men, Everyone is a minority in some way, This will have all the representation, Racism, Racist Language, They will suffer because of their racism, Don't worry, Don't Have to Know Canon, Hopefully you won't have to know canon, Because if I don't do this right, Than you will be so confused, Better Than Canon, I take most of my inspiration from the justice league cartoons, and from the harley quinn movie soundtrack, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Trans Character, Gay Panic

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/34NkxPp

[ao3feed-batlantern]

by Anna12aot

What if Kate and Bruce were born around the same time? What if the tragedies that made them the heroes they become, also happened around the same time? What if the two of them ended up living together? What if the two of them ended up as huge theater nerds? What if they had some actual healthy coping mechanisms along side their totally not super unhealthy vigilante detective hobby that nearly kills them on a weekly basis? What if everything wasn't a shitty cheap ass drama show written by racist, misogynist, homophobic, all the bad ism's and phobia's and ist's?

(No disrespect to the individuals who try to give us good diverse content. Actually, all the respect because DC as whole is a weak dumb ass bitch and kudos to those people for tolerating that bastard.)

Here is my sad, pathetic attempt to fix the DC universe that I am very much under qualified and under prepared for. Enjoy. (And I'll get to finishing the relationship tags soon, it's just not on the agenda right about now. There is just so many fucking characters. The character tags are technically unfinished because that won't be all of the characters showing up. Do I really hate myself and DC that much?)

Words: 633, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Wonder Woman - All Media Types, Wonder Woman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood, Red Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League: War, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017), Teen Titans (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Kate Kane, Alfred Pennyworth, Lucius Fox, Jim Gordon, Helena Bertinelli, Harold Allnut, Hiro Okamura, Vic Sage, Renee Montoya, Patrick "Eel" O'Brian, Zatanna Zatara, Basil Karlo, Talia al Ghul, Selina Kyle, Holly Robinson, Kitrina Falcone, Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, Rose Wilson, Grant Wilson (DCU), Joseph Wilson, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Gus Yale, Wendy Harris, Jacob Kane, Catherine Hamilton Kane, Diana (Wonder Woman), Jason Todd, Koriand'r (DCU), Roy Harper, Bette Kane, Duke Thomas, Tim Drake, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Stephanie Brown, Billy Batson, Harper Row, Cullen Row, Shawn Tsang, Natalia Knight, Sasha Bordeaux, Carrie Kelley, Jaina Hudson, Cassandra Cain, Cheyenne Freemont, Tiffany Fox, Luke Fox, Barry Allen, Wally West, Bart Allen, Jay Garrick, Iris West, Max Mercury, Clark Kent, Kara Zor-El, Kara Danvers, Lois Lane, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Jonathan "Pa" Kent, Martha Wayne, Martha Kent, Thomas Wayne, Sam Lane, Lucy Lane (DCU), Donna Troy, Cassie Sandsmark, Artemis of Bana-Mighdall, Akila of Bana-Mighdall, Queen Hippolyta, Atalanta, Antiope (Wonder Woman), Bana-Mighdall Amazons, The Amazons (Wonder Woman), Grace Choi, Anissa Pierce, Jefferson Pierce, Jennifer Pierce, Oliver Queen, Thea Queen, Emiko Queen, Dinah Lance, Hal Jordan, Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz, Simon Baz, Jon Stewart, Kyle Rayner, Jade Nguyen, Jennifer-Lynn Hayden, Artemis Crock, Ra's al Ghul, Nyssa Raatko, Silver St. Cloud, Wildcat (DCU), Tatsu Yamashiro, Jason Blood, Jason Bard, Crispus Allen, Kate Spencer, Onyx Adams, Boston Brand, David Zavimbe, Calvin Rose, Jean-Paul Valley, Santiago Varga, Baber Shah, Percy Sheldrake, Cyril Sheldrake, Jiro Osamu, Lonnie Machin, Harriet Cooper, Agatha Wayne, Vicki Vale, Harley Quinn, Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Harvey Dent, Joker (DCU), Jonathan Crane, Waylon Jones, Bane (DCU), Roman Sionis, Floyd Lawton, Hugo Strange, Thomas Elliot, Drury Walker, Jervis Tetch, Victor Fries, Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma, Cyrus Gold, Solomon Grundy (DCU), Shauna Belzer, Peyton Riley, Ulysses Hadrian Armstrong, Vandal Savage, Noah Kuttler, Julian Gregory Day (DCU), Thomas Blake (DCU), Arthur Brown, Count Vertigo, Garfield Lynns, Warren White, Charles "Chuck" Brown, Zeus (Wonder Woman), Onomatopoeia (DCU), Peter Merkel, Peter Merkel Jr., Deever Tweed, Dumfree Tweed, Victor Zsasz, Ben Turner, David Cain, Titus (DCU), Lady Shiva, Lazlo Valentin, Barton Mathis, Matilda Mathis, Mark Desmond, Mortimer Drake, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Ace the Bat-Hound, Bat-Cow (DCU)

Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Clark Kent, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Kate Kane & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Jim Gordon & Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Kate Kane, Kate Kane/Renee Montoya (past), Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne (past), Kate Kane & Jason Todd, Helena Bertinelli & Kate Kane & Jason Todd, Kate Kane & Clark Kent, Kate Kane & Alfred Pennyworth, Kate Kane & Oliver Queen, Kate Kane & Damian Wayne, Kate Kane & John Stewart, Bruce Wayne & Kara Zor-El, Barbara Gordon & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Zatanna Zatara, Hal Jordan & Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox & Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox & Luke Fox & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Kate Kane, Cassandra Cain & Kate Kane, Luke Fox & Kate Kane

Additional Tags: No Smut, No Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Canon Compliant, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, will try to remember to add them later, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, I am trying to fix the entire DCU while very much trying not to, This was supposed to be like just about the Batfam, But I started doing research, and it was really confusing, Then I got angry, and then hyped, and this happened, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Author Regrets Everything, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, How Do I Tag, Batfamily (DCU), Protective Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), fuck you dc, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Please Kill Me, I Tried, I Don't Even Know, some people die, no one stays dead, but god, God is Dead, Cause I killed him for letting DC continue this shit show, Nothing makes any fucking sense, This doesn't make any sense, It's a fucking mari go round of bullshit, enjoy, Explicit Language, To Be Edited, Not Beta Read, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Young Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Growing Up Together, Romani Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Kate Kane is a Good Parent, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon Knows, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Is Gay, And they're all panicked gays, Fluff and Angst, Family Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Humor, Gallows Humor, Bruce Wayne's Sense of Humor, Jason Todd’s Morbid Humor, this is gonna get long, Like over a few hundred thousand, Or this will die after it's reached 3k, Don't Like Don't Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Childhood Trauma, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Because of arkham, Arkham Asylum, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships, read the tags, Tags May Change, Tags Are Hard, Body Image, Jewish Character, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Rewrite, Hispanic Character, Black Character(s), Native American Character(s), Arab Character, Arab Damian Wayne, We Die Like Men, Everyone is a minority in some way, This will have all the representation, Racism, Racist Language, They will suffer because of their racism, Don't worry, Don't Have to Know Canon, Hopefully you won't have to know canon, Because if I don't do this right, Than you will be so confused, Better Than Canon, I take most of my inspiration from the justice league cartoons, and from the harley quinn movie soundtrack, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Trans Character, Gay Panic