A/N: Well, I had planned to write plenty of Halloween related things this month(from original pieces to fanfics). Alas, midterms are upon me. This week especially, unfortunately. With Halloween on Monday, as well as two large tests (and another later this week), I knew that this would be my last free day for a while. So, determined to write something, I decided on a Jason Todd piece. Why? No reason really. I find his character to be fascinating, and I had not tried my hand at writing him prior to this. This story was unplanned and done by ear, so hopefully the narration is easy enough to follow and the plot makes sense. I wanted to contrast an older Jason's feelings of a holiday that might make him painfully nostalgic with an optimistic younger Jason's feelings of the same holiday. I also wanted to write a little about Catherine being a sometimes-decent mother, as Jason has been shown to have cared about her in the comics (and there must be some reason for that, right?). As for chronology, just assume that this takes place not too long after the end of BM:UTRH. R&R if you wish. I care not!(well, actually I do. No pressure)
Disclaimer: I do not own the character of Jason Todd, nor any other piece of information belonging to the DC universe. If I did, there would have been a heck of a lot more done with Jason in Gotham, especially in regards to his relationship with his family(ALL of his family, Barbara included).
*EDIT: I've re-proofed this story, so hopefully I've managed to snag all of those pesky typos. They are slippery buggers though, so I wouldn't be surprised if some lingered on. A special thanks to the JT fans who came all the way over to from the FYJT tumblr. The advice and critiques were most welcome, and I look forward to more feedback in the future.
Jason Todd hated Halloween. The window of his one room, run-down, clustered apartment was not entirely boarded up. As it was a condemned building, it really ought to have been. But then, Gotham's board of health didn't much care for the "people" that lived in the slums. That is, if one could call slum living "living". So what if some street kid saw the loose boards as an invitation that beckoned him or her inside? It's not as if condemned buildings have toxic mold or anything. Oh wait—they usually do, don't they? And if not toxic mold then some other microscopic malady inducing parasite—and that didn't include the parasitic meatbags that roamed the streets. No, Jason thought bitterly, kids that grow up in these parts are more likely to be killed by a dose of liquid poison or a stray bullet. Nevermind the mold.
However, condemned buildings did have one allure. They were usually always vacant and—as the slums held so many such abodes not fit to support healthy human life—their numbers were great. Perfect really, for Gotham's finest red-hooded menace. Perfect for hiding from "caped crusaders" and Gotham City's gun toting monkeys.
"Caped Crusader" Jason scoffed allowed. Funny how quickly people forget that Crusaders weren't nice people. But then, maybe Gotham's Brady Bats needed to take a queue from history's ruthless. A Crusader wouldn't hesitate to kill the Joker. Jason's hand slipped, and the needle fell to the floor. Damn it. His thoughts disturbed, Jason reached down to retrieve the needle gingerly—careful not to aggravate his open wound. Other than being stabbed in the bicep, the Red Hood's night vigil had been productive. He had broken up a drug deal(which involved several kids too young and too hungry to put up much of a fight), stopped a rape(while permanently "disabling" the scum's weapon of choice), and had blackmailed the Penguin. Yes, it had been an eventful evening. So when some scrappy young kid came barreling out of a small diversion in one of Gotham's labyrinth of alleys, Jason tensed in anticipation. Realizing the age of the assailant, Jason made a mistake that years of fervent "boy wonder" training—and his more recent stint with the League of Assassins—should have prepared him for. Jason got cocky. Bruce had taught him to view every situation with severity and to respond appropriately to the degree of threat being presented.
And, as much as Jason had come to hate his former fath…master, the lessons he'd taught him were invaluable for Jason's current lifestyle. But Jason made a mistake, and it cost him an inconvenient wound and an early night. It wasn't painful, just inconvenient. The relativity of pain had evolved for Jason after his death. Now, in order to be categorized as "painful", the wound would have to transcend a lesion or bullet hole. It had to be something so hot that it stroked the fires of his numbed inner core and awoke the restless soul underneath. No—bullet holes and lesions were not painful. They were merely inconvenient.
Preferably, Jason would have sought someplace slightly "less" condemned looking to tend his injury. Gangs and drug peddlers might have been more apt to kill a kid than toxic mold, but toxic mold and god knows what else and an open wound? Well, there's a reason that hospitals are so damn sterile—and it isn't just to drive patients crazy. So here he was, Gotham's own Red Hood, the Robin fallen from grace, in a putrid little hole in the slums on Halloween.
Jason deposited the needle into a saucer filled with vodka. It wouldn't do to touch that dirty needle to his wound until after it had been re-sterilized. He was too good at what he did to be done in by some grimy old needle. I'm also too good to let some eighty-pound kid knife me, he chastised. Keeping pressure applied to his arm, Jason sat down on an overturned crate and gazed out of the cracks of the nearby window. The streets of Park Row were still littered with costumed children. Why street kids ever bothered Jason didn't know. It's not as if candy was ever given out, or decorations ever put up. I mean, there was plenty of "candy" floating around on the streets, though doubtless it wasn't any sort of thing a kid would want—should want. Most of the children were in what appeared to be homemade variants of popular costumes. Some had more commercial pieces—and by commercial, I mean generic knock offs—from dollar stores or bargain marts. Years of fighting masked villains, and years of working under a masked instructor(whose heart was at times just as masked as his stoically handsome face) had given Jason reason to be wary of masks and colorful visages. Of course, Jason took advantage of the distrust and mystique surrounding masks in order to create his Red Hood persona. But then, he didn't create the Red Hood. He stole it. Ironically, he stole it from the monster that put him in his grave years ago. Still, masks suited vigilantes. But other people in masks(that is to say, people other than Jason)—well, they put him on edge. Children's' laughs echoed throughout the streets below and penetrated the gloom of his temporary hostel. I HATE Halloween.
Jason Todd loved Halloween. He was seven years of age, and had just finished what he considered to be his crowning achievement. Examining himself in a mostly dust-free mirror, Jason whistled in appreciation. He had spent the past three days working on his costume. His mother, during one of her lucid moments, had been nice enough to give him a few of her old shirts to cut-up. And Jason, accustomed to mending his own clothes, was not entirely a stranger to sewing. Though still, this costume had been a real challenge. After all, how did one imitate the garb of the coolest superhero on the planet? The mostly dust-free mirror reflected a black haired, green-eyed youth clad in blue and red. The 'S' on his chest was the feature he was most proud off. Cutting out the letter with safety scissors (Catherine Todd had a fear of sharp objects. That is, other than needles) was a challenge enough. Appliquéing it to the remains of what had been a dark blue blouse was even more of a challenge. Jason executed an experimental spin, all the while noting the amount of air his cape received. "Swirlability" was a must in any superhero cape. Satisfied with his work, Jason made his way into the living room. His mother was dozing in an old wear-worn recliner.
"I'mgoingoutnowi'llbebacklaterbye" Jason breathed, hoping to make a quick getaway. But like most mothers, Catherine Todd was not easily fooled.
"Jason" she called, just as the pint-sized Superman had reached the entryway door. Sighing, Jason turned on his heels and made his way back to his mother's location. Placing his hand on his hips, Jason put on his best heroic face. Catharine laughed softly,
"Very dapper Jay. But I think you're missing something."
"Am not!" Jason contested. "I've been planing my costume for two weeks, and that's longer than I've ever spent on anything EVER"
"Perhaps" his mother mused, "but you're still missing something." Pouting, Jason crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Catherine beckoned Jason closer, and he complied. She ran her fingers through his disheveled hair, using the water from a glass on a nearby end table to plaster it back. Separating one lone strand, Catharine twirled it in her fingers until it rested as a curl on his forehead. Jason screwed up his face in impatience.
"Are you done yet? The others are waiting for me!" Jason bemoaned. Catherine pursed her lips and replied,
"There's just one more thing"
"BAH!" Jason exclaimed in frustration. Catherine leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Jason crinkled his nose in the way that a typical little boy would after receiving a kiss from his mother.
"Be safe Jason"
"I'm Superman! Safety is for chumps"
"Jason" she warned
"Yeah, yeah. Don't take candy with razor blades, avoid the cops, don't pick-pocket." Jason said as he made his way out of the door. Content that she had said what every mother should, Catherine gradually drifted back into her daze, all the while willing her son to be safe.
Jason bounded down the stairs of his apartment complex, dodging one or two passerbys in the process. Being able to feel his cape gain wind as he hurried along to the designated meet spot was exhilarating. He didn't even care that he was late, or that his friends would undoubtedly complain. They were a whiny lot. If Jason had something better to do, he wouldn't put up with them. At least, that's what he told himself. Predictably, Johnny was the first to call Jason's tardiness to attention.
"What's that? Is it a plane? Is it a bird? No, it's Jason Todd. As slow as a tortoise"
"Oh look, its Johnny, the world's biggest…what are you supposed to be? A butt wipe?"
"I'm a mummy!" Johnny exclaimed, and Benjamin(dressed as a cardboard robot) and Emily(dressed as some odd "slum" variant of Elvis) giggled.
"Right…well, I hate to tell you this Johnny, but the 'gyptians didn't have Charmin back in the day."
"Well, at least I'm not metro' cities poster Nancy." Johnny sniped
"Pfft—I'll take a "poster Nancy" with flight, super strength, super hearing, and laser eyes over a butt wipe."
"Guys, can we just go already?" Benjamin asked, and Johnny and Jason turned away from eachother indifferently.
"Who says we can't? I was just waiting on you." Johnny sniffed
"Yeah Benjy, you shouldn't keep us waiting." Jason added
"I've been here the whole time! I was here before you!" Benjamin huffed.
"Good, we're all here. Let's go. This wig ITCHES" Emily intervened, and the tussle was dropped.
Candy wasn't really common in Park Row, though there were some places to score if you knew where to go. Happy with even a few pieces of candy, the band hit their usual places and then spent the remainder of their time wandering about. The biggest attraction for slum kids when it came to Halloween was that for one night, they got to be anyone other than who they were. Haunted houses didn't interest them. Their lives were haunted enough, and most of them became jaded to Halloween's theatrical scare tactics by the time they were old enough to walk the streets alone. Mind you, they never went out at night alone. Everyone knew that it was safer in-groups. It was easier to deter fights that way, and you never wanted to be out and about Park Row without someone to watch your back. Emily, the only one amongst the four who owned a watch, signaled the hour to the rest of the group. It was late, almost midnight. Deciding that it would be best to head for home(they all lived within a few blocks of eachother), the band of mismatched characters started walking. Halfway to Benjamin's house, they heard a commotion.
"Did you hear that?" Emily asked, and the rest of the gang stopped walking.
"Hear what?" Johnny asked
"SHH—there it is again!" Emily exclaimed. Frowning, Jason moved to stand next to Emily. After a few moments, and just as Johnny began to open his mouth to interject, a clanging was heard from a nearby alley.
"What do you think that was?" Benjamin asked
"Probably just a cat" Jason replied
"Yeah…probably" Emily added. Seconds after, a few more sounds echoed from the alley corridor—only this time they were closer and more defined.
"Sounds like a fight" Johnny stated. The others agreed. Slum kids knew a fight when they heard one. A strange metallic swishing sound broke-up the battle-noises. By now, the four of them had involuntarily moved closer to the alley, curiosity drawing them in. As the reached the sidewalk, they stood huddled together, unsure of what they'd find. A nearby street light flickered on and illuminated two men secured with a black line. In a nearby wall, a black object glistened in the lamplight. Is that a…
A black blur shot out above them—high above them. Turning their attention upwards, the children saw a black blur with pointed ears leap over the top of one of the nearest buildings, gripping a line barely visible in the darkness. Jason gapped. Emily gapped. Benjamin gapped. Johnny was the first to recover. With baited breath he gasped,
"Batman!"
"Batman!" Benjamin seconded
"Batman!" Emily added. Jason closed his gapping mouth.
"That was the coolest thing EVER!" Emily exclaimed.
"No Halloween is going to top this one" Benjamin affirmed
"Why so quiet Todd? Shocked at seeing a real hero?" Johnny teased. Jason straightened his back and put on his heroic face.
"Superman would have flown" he sniffed, and the others laughed. The rest of their walk was filled with raves about Batman, though Jason would have no part of it. After the band separated, and Jason stood at the entrance of his apartment complex, only then did he risk a look back. Without the teasing eyes of his friends, Jason smiled. He knew what he was going to be next Halloween. Jason Todd loved Halloween.