Disclaimer: Young Justice is owned by Warner Bros, DC Comics, and Cartoon Network.

A/N: This fic utilizes Jason Todd's story as told in the Batman comics. For those unaware of the events leading up to his death, Jason found out that his mother was actually his stepmother and his birth mother was still alive. He discovers that she's in either one of three Middle Eastern countries and runs away on his own to find her. Eventually he is caught by the Joker, who tortures him with a crowbar before blowing up the building killing both him and his birth mother. I won't get into more detail about it, but strongly recommend the story arc in the comics "Death in the Family" AND the animated movie (directed by Brandon Vietti!) Batman: Under the Red Hood.

RED REDEMPTION

One day Bruce showed up out of the blue with a new Robin behind his cape. It was like he just plucked them from the streets every day like people pick up groceries. They had heard the general tale from Nightwing; Batman had found the kid trying to jack the wheels of the Batmobile, which even they had to admit took real stones.

On that first day, Wally mistook him for Dick. He grabbed the caped kid by the shoulder and swung him around, laughing, only to find a stranger. Same domino mask, same utility belt, same black and yellow cape, same R emblazoned on his chest, and even similar oil black hair. But there was something in the boy's smile that set Wally's teeth on edge. There was a quiet, dangerous quality that set him apart from Dick's youthful energy.

Dick didn't feel any better about the arrangement than Jason. He loved being Nightwing. The role of Robin was never going to be his sole identity, but at the same time he didn't think of himself as easily replaceable. But the fact remained that Batman couldn't work alone. Someone needed to watch his back, to stop him from flying off the handle, and if that someone had to be Jason Carjacking Todd, so be it.

On a mission Jason followed orders well enough, and with a few Robin-esque flairs of his own. He was more heavy-handed than Dick in his punches and flips, but the Dark Knight's training shone clearly in every move. There was nothing remotely dangerous about him until one day a man pulled out a gun.

The first shot split the air like a crack of lightning. Jason whirled around to avoid the shot, but didn't have the time. Then Dick appeared, a lithe shadow soaring through the air, tackling his successor to the ground like a ballet-trained linebacker. Artemis disarmed the man with one swift blow and kicked the gun away with a distasteful look on her face. A thin line of blood had been drawn across Jason's shoulder; a shallow injury compared to what could've been.

Jason ignored the outstretched hand Dick offered. Dick, to his credit, made no expression of disappointment or irritation, but merely strode back to his teammates and ordered a return to base.

Jason remained on the ground for a moment, spitting blood and acid, then leapt to his feet. He stormed over to the man who had nearly shot him and suddenly unleashed a flurry of punches. Between the man's cries of pain and the cracks of each blow, Jason's furious, disjointed growls could be heard, "You stupid…looked like…a fool…goddammit!"

He only managed a few seconds worth of damage before Dick and Conner hauled him away. Dick looked ready to throw him against the wall, but settled for a lengthy lecture about ethics and morality and not beating people into pulp. All the while, Jason glared at the ground while tiny rivulets of blood dripped slowly from his knuckles.

Jason got along best with Artemis, whenever she wasn't glued to Wally's hip. She knew what it was like to come fresh from a life of plummeting darkness and sympathized with him. All he wanted was to carve his own place on the team without being constantly compared to Dick. She wanted to help him become his own person.

Still she saw the signs. The savage glint in his eyes. The ferocity in his kicks and punches. The bitter jealousy when Nightwing and Batman stood beside each other, two grown men the world accepted and relied on.

But she couldn't bring herself to recognize that darkness can follow a person no matter how much they strive for the light.

She was the one who warned him about chasing down the woman who might be his birth mother.

"It's too risky," she implored one day in the middle of combat practice.

Jason came at her swinging, his eyes alight with rarely seen hope. His attempts to fight her were half-hearted, but the way he danced energetically around the electronic mat normally would've suggested otherwise.

"I've done the research," he panted in between jabs. "And I've narrowed it down. I have to at least try!"

Artemis shook her head, blocked another punch, and threw one of her down. "And what if - hah! - it ends up being a trap?"

He circled the mat carefully like a tiger, keeping her at a tactical distance. "It won't be," he swore.

"At least talk to Batman."

"He'll just say no."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." His eyes turned downcast. "He always does."

Artemis took advantage of his distraction to sweep her leg under him. He fell to the ground, and she quickly snatched one of his arms, turning him onto his stomach, and held the arm straight up pointing to the sky, applying slight pressure to complete the pin. An electronic circle bloomed underneath him, flashing the words, Robin Status: FAIL.

"Ow ow ow," Jason moaned. "Okay, you've made your point!"

"And don't you forget it," she laughed and tossed him a water bottle.

They sat on the floor, drinking and catching their breath. After a moment he set down the water, drew a knee up to his chest, and mumbled, "Artemis, can I ask you something?"

Sensing some young emotional strife, Artemis scooted next to him, sitting cross-legged, and gave him her full attention. "Anything."

"If you found out...that your dad wasn't really your dad, that you'd been living with a stranger, but had the chance to find your real dad...what would you do?"

She sighed. That was Jason; always going for the tough questions. "Honestly? If it was me, I'd jump on the next flight out of here."

He perked up, about to open his mouth in righteous indignation.

"However," she spoke over him. "That would be my first impulse. When thinking about from an outsider's perspective, as someone who isn't emotionally invested, I would realize that no matter how much I liked or disliked my family it wouldn't change the fact that the real stranger is this person you're so desperate to meet. My father raised me, and, even though he was never Father of the Year, he's a big part of the reason I ended up here. And now?" She looked across the room to where Kid Flash and Nightwing were chatting, joking around like old pals. Kid Flash noticed her gaze and threw a quick wink in her direction, only to be met by Nightwing's swift elbow in his gut. She grinned. "Now I couldn't be happier."

Jason smiled blandly in reply and stood to resume their training.

Things may have turned out well for her, but he wasn't ready to take that risk.

Jason turned to look at the woman beside him. She said her name was Sheila. His birth mother. But all he saw in that woman's face was a stranger who had sold him out to protect herself. Weren't mothers supposed to be protective of their young?

Tick tick tick.

The woman named Sheila trembled, tears pouring in thick rivers down her cheeks. She clawed at Jason's sleeves in desperation, begging him to save them. He glanced down at the "R" on his chest. That was his job, wasn't it? Saving people.

"Don't worry," he said. "Batman will save us."

Tick...tick...tick.

Jason closed his eyes and shielded the woman as best he could. He thought about the team. About Artemis. About Dick. About Bruce.

It's okay. He'll come. He'll save us.

Days pass.

The Cave is silent. No training, no missions, no cheerful hello's and goodbye's. They mourn together, but not as a team. Dick disappears. No one chases after him.

One night Wally finds Artemis asleep in the grotto, her head resting against the base of Jason's memorial statue. He looks up. The luminescent form of Jason Todd looms above them giving off a bluish glow. He's been depicted with a slight frown on his face. Wally picks her up gently and gazes around at the dank walls. How many more glowing statues would fill these halls, he wondered.

Weeks pass.

The team begins to talk again. Artemis finally emerges from her room on a daily basis, but Dick still spends every night haunting the rooftops of Bludhaven.

One day the League gives them their first mission. They succeed, but barely. Afterwards there are no congratulations or slaps on the back. They depart to their respective rooms and that's that. Next time they'll be better. Get back into the swing of things.

Years passed.

The team moved on. They knew the consequences they had signed up for and, deep down, they knew that the only way to properly mourn Jason was to live for him.

But Bruce still hadn't forgiven himself.

Not when Barbara barrelled her way in, nor when Tim took up the mantle. He was trapped in an inky black pit of his own creation where guilt slithered in through the cracks. Try as he might to fill those cracks with people and love and reassurance, they remained fresh and raw like the very first day.

No one ever blamed him, they blamed the Joker. But people like the Joker would always be around. People who killed because they liked it, or because they were lashing back at a society that had rejected them. But there would never be another Jason.

Bruce believed that up until the day he saw his own wobbly reflection in a shining red helmet and heard the sound of two men being pumped full of bullets. Through the wafting smoke from a pair of pistols, he saw a ghost. One of his own making.

"Hello, Bruce," said the ghost with a feral grin. "Long time no see."

The Bat hung his head. Should he be glad? Relieved? Betrayed? Ashamed? Was any of this right?

In the end, Jason had found his own redemption. His own place. It simply wasn't beside Bruce or the team.

It was alone.