Jason landed in Ma Gunn's the day after Dick, and if it didn't take long for the teenage tire thief to figure out the real purpose behind the school … it took even less time to realize that the other new boy was the reason no one silenced him for that dangerous piece of knowledge.
The old lady was tiptoeing around the acrobat—a circus celebrity, paparazzi magnet, scarcely orphaned a day before Bruce Wayne of all people started making noise about obtaining guardianship. Now all of Gotham was watching Ma Gunn's School for Wayward Boys
It took a day or two to isolate the other newcomer away from the cameras or the other boys' nosy mugs, and when Jason finally managed it, he almost gave up hope.
He had to shake the older boy from the perpetual fog of grief, trying not to sound desperate as he shoved until the boy finally made eye contact.
For a split second, Jason thought that the other teen was useless, blank and worn with grief and shock. Then he saw the spark of curiosity in Richard Grayson's face.
"You figure this place out yet?" he demanded softly.
It would take a careful balance of coaxing and chiding to get the other boy through the next few days, but Jason was good with prickly people. He was good with the broken, and even the merely cracked. So when Jason was rewarded with a small nod, it was good enough for him.
"My name's Jason."
"Dick … Dick Grayson."
Jason whistled quietly. "Someone clearly doesn't like you, short stuff. Hey, what do you say we blow this joint?"
It wasn't that Dick was unfamiliar with Batman and Robin. He grew up in a circus, not under a rock. Batman and Robin had a tendency to make the national news … but so did Superman, Wonder Woman, and an entire league of heroes.
He had played something of a game with the other children in the circus when he was younger. It had involved getting ridiculously excited over visiting the various heroes' cities with the troupe, but aside from a momentary glimpse of red cape in Metropolis … Dick had never seen one in person.
He grew older. The fascination waned as he became more and more involved in his family's act.
They weren't his heroes … weren't his villains … weren't his cities. Dick had the circus and very little involvement in the outside world—certainly no special connection with the Bats of Gotham.
He had been three when the first Robin appeared, eleven when the blonde girl showed up, and overseas when she died. He hadn't identified with either.
Ironically enough, it was the death of Stephanie Brown and the ensuing incarceration of the Joker behind the best security Bruce Wayne could buy that changed his life forever. Having the Clown Prince of Crime locked behind twice the concrete and steel made Pop Haley think it would finally be safe enough to bring the circus to Gotham. Dick's family paid the price for that error in judgement, because crime in Gotham never slept.
The weeks after the fall were mostly a blur—the circus, the hospital, the funerals, Mr. Wayne and Batman in turn, doctors, social workers, Ma Gunn—until one day Dick found himself sitting on a bed in the orphanage and meeting a worried pair of green eyes.
"Have you even realized what they do here yet?"
Jason Todd was his opposite in every way. Gotham born and bred, the younger boy was streetwise and quick with his fists. He haunted Dick's every movement in Ma Gunn's school, protecting him from the other students while getting in a jab or two of his own regarding Dick's distracted mental state and a much touted one inch height difference.
Strangely enough, the street slang and complex moral system of his new 'friend' was the closest thing to circus-loyalty that Dick would ever see in Gotham although the circus used endearments to tease and Jason insulted with clear affection.
It was two sides of the same coin—much like Dick and Jason as they carefully planned an escape.
The plan had required a great deal of luck and determination, most of which had to be provided by Jason at first. Dick's grief seemed to have a very physical presence weighing the acrobat down. It took nearly losing his new friend to 'wake' Dick, and in saving Jason—a protective streak was born where Dick went from baby of the family to older brother in the space of a single somersault.
What do ya know—he could still fly.
If one's definition of flight meant awkward and unbalanced, panicked and deliberate all at once.
They had landed in a heap at the feet of Batman with the orphanage in disarray behind them, police officers streaming in from all sides and Ma Gunn getting away … but it seemed to pale in significance under the looming shadow of the Bat.
Jason stumbled to his feet, kicking free of Dick's grip, and squared off against Batman. "Was this all some kinda test?" Jason shouted. "You dump two kids in a crooked orphanage the same week often? 'Cause the way I hear it, Batman don't make mistakes!" Jason grimaced. "My bad: Batman doesn't make mistakes. Ma Gunn's grammar lessons are an important part of our education here after all."
"I've made far too many mistakes."
Batman didn't really answer the accusation though. He just looked at the Commissioner and indicated Dick with a nod. "Mr. Wayne will want to see to Richard's safety himself, Commissioner. He'll arrange for the boy's uncle to be informed."
The Commissioner didn't argue. Dick would come to learn over the next week that people seldom did when encountering the Batman's terse instructions or the full charisma of Bruce Wayne. The next week was the same kind of blur as the first, but this time Dick hung onto two things in the flurry—Jason and Bruce.
Paperwork was pushed through to make Dick the ward of Bruce Wayne until Uncle Rick recovered, and at the young acrobat's insistence, Bruce adopted Jason outright. Press conferences were held for Bruce Wayne's overwhelming guilt in allowing the young acrobat to end up at Ma Gunn's. Damian Wayne was suspiciously absent from most of these proceedings while Mr. Pennyworth dogged their every step in the manor.
And when that week culminated in the dramatic reveal of Batman's secret identity, Dick could only think: Jason was right. Everything's a test.
It's just hard to tell who's being tested sometimes … Jason … Dick … Alfred … Damian … Bruce, himself.
Jason struck some kind of deal with Bruce—two Robins for the price of one. It resulted in Damian storming from the house and months of training, but Dick had bigger things to worry about than the only surviving predecessor.
He had always been Robin. One of his earliest memories is his mother's story of his birth at the beginning of spring and how she had laughed to hear the moniker of Batman's new sidekick all those years ago.
He'd never been Robin. Not his city. Not his hero. Not Dick Grayson.
So Dick thought that it was a good thing they had shared the role to begin with. Dick had the skills, Jason had the heart, and they traded back and forth until it was hard to tell where Jason's practicality ended and Dick's showmanship began.
Between the stunts and the costume, no one would ever guess that two different boys took turns under the mask.