Wasn't expecting to follow-up this quickly, but I couldn't quite seem to help it. Here's chapter two! Thanks for the reviews, follows, and faves! Hope this continues to entertain. :)
February 3, 2011 23:05 – Gotham
This had to be a joke.
Robin looked over the supposedly untouchable tank that had so faithfully served them for years. When it faced falling buildings, flying bullets, and countless acrobatics care of a certain Mr. Grayson, the Batmobile didn't produce a dint. Not a single scratch. Hell, not even a smudge.
And now some punk had just stolen her hubcaps.
It was a her, right? Dick never quite posed the gender question to Batman, but he knew most men gave their cars a feminine designation. Even Wally had dubbed his sputtering 1996 Camry "Sasha". It was better than Conner's suggestion of "Car", at least.
Whatever its gender, if it even had one, the Batmobile had clearly suffered a huge injustice tonight at the hands of what clearly had to be a criminal mastermind. No one had gotten that close to the car, let alone managed to disable its first set of alarms from the outside, for as long as Dick had been Robin. Maybe even earlier. Batman himself looked shocked. Shocked as Batman could look, anyway.
This really had to be a joke. But, why the heck would anyone just steal the hubcaps?
"Distraction?" Robin asked, peering up at his mentor while they finished running any just-to-be-sure style diagnostics. It wouldn't surprise either one of them if the person who had managed to trip and disable the alarm had also left behind a nasty surprise. "Maybe there's a third thug we didn't know about."
"Doubtful," Batman grunted. "Intel said two, and their surprise said otherwise."
That was true enough. Once Two-Face's former cronies registered their captors were momentarily preoccupied, they adopted wild, almost feral looks and attempted to writhe their way out of danger. No such luck. Batman gripped his Tweedle twin even tighter, practically snarling fire at the audacity of trying to get away.
No, their attempts to free themselves were unplanned and unfocused at best. At worst, downright stupid and sloppy. Robin almost felt bad for his own thug when he made an awkward crab-walk movement that lasted all of two seconds before being subdued once more. What part of restrained did those guys not understand?
Without the time to sit and chat about poor life choices, Batman grabbed a pellet from his belt and threw it at Tweedle Dum just as Robin did the same to Tweedle Dee. The police could take care of them. Interrogations could wait until more pressing matters had been dealt with.
It had been quick. Easy. Well, easier than the previous half hour of waiting and wondering. The whole subdue and run back to the car thing had taken no more than five minutes, tops. The Batmobile's security functions could keep any potential thieves occupied for at least ten, and that was for the most skilled Wayne Tech genius.
Lists of questions scrolled through Robin's mind as he tried to make sense of the whole thing. None of these managed to make it out of the young teen's mouth. A glint caught his eye, his hyper-vigilance pulling his attention away from the car and up toward the shining beacon that had just called to him.
The punk was smart. He had to be in order to pull this stunt, but he was downright terrible at the quiet getaway bit. Dick watched as the small, shadowy figure worked its way up a nearby fire escape, leaping from the rusted metal of one level up to the bottom rung of another. The movements were shaky and unpolished, but promising. Especially considering it was all done with his second arm preoccupied with steadying four glimmering hubcaps against his body. Hubcaps the size of his torso, the bird saw.
"Batman," was all he needed to say. The man was up like a shot, following the thief from fire escape to fire escape. While the shadow was quick, Batman and Robin were quicker.
They just weren't as desperate.
The figure turned around, and in the moonlight Dick caught sight of a boy that looked no older than ten, and that was being generous. He knew he had no right to talk, but at least at ten Dick looked like he had eaten a square meal within the week. With the bones showing through on this one, it was a surprise the boy could even lift the stupid hubcaps.
"We're not going to hurt you." said Batman.
In that moment, Dick knew Batman had noticed the same thing that he had. It was about as likely as fairies flying out of his butt for Batman to be consoling on the job. He must have noticed the gaunt features and wild eyes. More than that, he saw fear buried under a savage determination.
"Yeah, right!" the boy shouted back. Without so much as a second glance, he turned on his heel and continued running, stopping just a moment to throw one of the hubcaps like a frisbee in their direction. The metal saucer ripped through the air, whistling menacingly. Robin had just a moment's notice before he ducked down and narrowly avoided a gash to the forehead.
"Watch it!" Dick shouted, narrowing his eyes at the brat. There went feeling bad for him. "Did you see that?!" he finished toward Batman. Rhetorically, of course. Batman saw all.
Except, maybe not. When the Boy Wonder turned to face his mentor, he saw the Dark Knight had disappeared. Somewhere, Robin knew this had happened before he even looked up, but he curses his senses betraying him more than usual.
While the boy felt off, he still could sense what his mentor's plan was. It was just taking him longer than usual to act on it. Stupid ribs. Stupid tech glitches. Stupid thief. The brat was now a full building ahead of him, preparing a leap onto the next roof. Guess now he would have to swing through the streets to catch up. He smiled at the thought. At least this was bound to put him back in his element.
Again, the rush of freezing air filled Robin's lungs as he raced down the street, keeping a keen eye on his target. The gray surrounding him made it difficult to maintain visual, but the occasional glimpses of moonlight helped. Not to mention the boy was wearing out. As good as he was, as fast as he could be, the boy lacked something very, very important—
He wasn't trained by Batman.
The kid hesitated on his next jump just a fraction of a second too long, allowing Robin the chance to take a hard left and swing into him. Perhaps a bit too roughly, but maybe it would make the little jerk think twice about stealing again.
A string of vile curses erupted from the smaller boy as he sprang to his feet. In between the slew of vitriol, the bird managed to catch something akin to, "What the hell is your problem?!"
"Do those belong to you?" Robin asked, gesturing to the remaining three hubcaps.
"They do now!"
"According to what?"
"Finders, keepers!"
Jeez, this kid really was young. Who the heck said that past fifth grade?
"Your law degree tell you that?" Disk asked, arching an eyebrow behind his mask.
"Go to hell!" the boy snarled back, preparing to toss another of his prize winnings.
Only he didn't get the chance. Out of the corner of his eye, Robin saw the batarangs flying toward his assailant, a rope connecting both. Before the younger boy could exclaim yet another curse, he was bound and squirming on the roof like a fish out of water.
"Let me go!" he screamed.
"Fat chance," said Robin.
A guttural yell fitting of insane cat roared from the punk's throat. "I'll kill you!"
Batman took that moment to lean down and send the boy a look. No words. No threats. Just a glare. That was all it took for the boy to go still.
"I didn't mean actually kill," he added for good measure.
"Don't make threats you can't carry out," Batman advised.
"Uh… sure. Noted."
Batman and Robin exchanged a glance before the elder asked a simple, "Name?"
"Bruce Wayne."
A burst of laughter erupted from the bird before he could suppress it. At least the subsequent scowl from his mentor helped him get back under control pretty quickly. Still, even he knew Batman must have appreciated the humor of the situation. Not that he would ever let it show outwardly.
"Want to try that again?" Batman asked instead.
"Peter Parker?"
Robin pinched the bridge of his nose at that. "Dude, seriously? Marvel?"
"What? Okay, fine, Wade Wilson. Deadpool's cooler, anyway."
"Maybe, but—"
"Boys!" the bat growled.
"Sorry," they both muttered sheepishly.
Batman got close to the kid once more, practically nose-to-nose. Jason could feel his breath on his neck, as if he were preparing to bite right into his jugular. The look of horror on his face betrayed his thoughts that this guy really might be a bat. The vampire kind like those dirty books in the library talked about.
"Jason. Jason Todd," he answered.
Batman sent another look toward Robin, silently asking if it were another pop culture reference. Bruce Wayne did a good job of keeping up with business, finance, the economy, politics, and sometimes theater. The state of the world and the balance of the market took precedent over what pop star or action hero was the next big thing. He needed Dick for that.
"Nope, seems legit," Robin shrugged.
It was all the confirmation the Dark Knight needed. Armed with that, he leaned down one last time to ask the kid something that would forever surprise them all…
"Are you hungry?"
The mention of food somehow both softened Jason and made him that much more suspicious. Not that Robin could blame him considering he was still lying with his face pressed against the roof's floor, his arms pinned to his sides. "You can't be serious."
Batman didn't need words to answer. His narrowed eyelets told the boy just how serious he was.
"Uh… This isn't one of those, 'We're going to have you for dinner,' jokes, is it?" Jason asked, his eyes nervously shifting between the two. "Because, I really might kill you, then."
Robin chuckled, shaking his head. "As if you could. Relax, we're not going to eat you. You're too scrawny. So, yes or no?"
Jason appraised the pair of them for a moment, his internal argument over swearing and attempting to get away in spite of his lack of arm use versus the idea of a hot meal was being played out in his changing expressions. Food, as it often does, won.
"Yes. Starved."
That Robin believed.
They were certainly a sight. One street rat, two super heroes, and three hubcaps sitting pretty in the corner booth. The waitress quickly thought it best not to ask questions. This wasn't the kind of place that patrons were really appraised all that much, anyway. The diner and staff within were honest about the neighborhood they were in and the sorts of people they served. Though, it was a bit strange to have someone on the right side of the law in there for a change…
"Here's the deal," Batman started, "You tell us as much as you know, and we give you ask much food as you can eat."
"You're playing a dangerous game, pops."
"Try me."
Jason gave the man a sideways glance, as glaring past the cowl and the stern expression Batman held to find just how serious he was. Apparently satisfied, he gave a nod. "Fair enough. Nothing 'til the food comes, though."
"Then no food."
"Anyone ever tell you that you play dirty, old man?" Jason snarled.
"Pops? Old man? How old do you think he is?" Robin asked, watching the pair in their stare down. It was like the world's most awkward tennis match. He knew who would win, but Robin would be lying if he said he weren't impressed with out long this mousy brat had lasted against Gotham's vigilante.
"He talks like he smokes a pack a day and has lines where he's frowned too damn much. He's not exactly approaching twenty," Jason answered, grabbing the menu as soon as it was placed in front of him. "So, whatever I want, huh? You mean that? Anything is fair game?"
"Fair game," Batman nodded.
"You asked for it. Okay, so, shoot. What do you want to know?"
Dick knew he should have let Batman ask the questions. This was his show, after all. Robin was well aware of his strengths and weaknesses (at least, he thought so), and he knew his mentor was a far stronger interrogator. He totally knew this.
Okay, just because he knew it, it didn't keep his mouth shut.
"What the heck were you doing stealing hubcaps? From the Batmobile. Seriously. For all you knew, it could have had a flamethrower for an alarm."
Batman sent his protege a look, but Jason only smiled. Leaning back into the booth with a smug grin, the boy offered, "It wouldn't have. Batman doesn't kill. Everyone knows that."
"No one ever said anything about the Batmobile killing," Robin pointed out.
"Touche. And I needed them. Next question," said Jason.
His posture changed at that, stiffening as his limbs pulled themselves inward. It reminded Dick of a hermit crab retreating into its shell.
He made sure to keep his voice lighter, lower this time. Remembering his sessions with Black Canary when she played team counselor, Dick attempted to mimic her stance and tone. "What did you need them for?"
"None of your business," Jason huffed, crossing his arms.
"Jason," Batman said. Though still harsh and gravelly, somehow there was a softness to the man's tone and Jason's arms fell slightly. "We had an agreement."
"I wanted to sell them. Do you know how much those things would be worth around here? People around here would sell their first-born children for two things—drugs and decent car parts. Besides, really, you need to stop parking in the same place every other week. I know you like to patrol Crime Alley regularly, but you have got to start changing things up. You're lucky I got there before someone else with enough sense to get past that stupid alarm you've got. People around here may be dumb as bricks, but they know how to punch straight and they're learning how to disable the security from some of those crazy, European cars. You need to upgrade, fast."
Batman grinned at that. Honest to goodness smirked. Batman. Robin had to look twice just to make sure the cloud of exhaustion rolling over him wasn't making him hallucinate.
"Thanks for the advice," the man said.
"Sure thing," Jason shrugged, once more curling into himself.
Thankfully, the waitress took that time to come by and take their orders. At the very idea of food being a real, tangible thing in his future, Jason brightened and began rattling off menu items like he was ordering for a sports team.
"I want two chili dogs, a plate of fries, a cookies and cream milkshake, one of those brownie things, and whatever soda you've got. Surprise me."
The waitress sent him a look, eyebrow almost into her hairline. "What? No bacon cheeseburger?"
"Nah. Watching my figure. Oh! But you can put bacon and cheese on the fries."
"Whoa! You could put my friend Kid Flash to shame!" Robin laughed. "You really think you can eat all that?"
Jason adopted another smug look, his arms now settling comfortably on the table, his posture easing. "That a challenge, big bird?"
"You know what? Sure. I dare you to—"
Before he could say exactly what he dared (and it would have been totally a good one, too!), Batman cleared his throat, ordered small meals for himself and Robin, and sent both boys a glare. There went their fun.
Robin had momentarily forgotten they were still technically on the job. It felt good to talk to someone who was close to his age. Reminded him of hanging out at the mountain after a mission, before he got too tired to function and retired to the quiet safety of Wayne Manor.
Wayne Manor. Home. The idea of it gave the boy a pang in his chest as he looked over Jason. He looked even thinner in the flickering lighting of the diner, his black hair flipping in all directions and dark circles decorating the area around his blue-green eyes. Smudges of dirt were scattered over his face, clothes, and hands, interspersed with spots of drying snow. Now that the Boy Wonder could get a good look, he realized the younger boy barely had anything more than a pair of jeans and a hoodie to ward off the cold.
As if reading his mind, Batman looked between the two boys and asked, "Where are you staying?"
"My home," Jason answered simply.
"Where is that?" Robin asked.
The boy shrugged. "Home."
"Jason," Batman almost growled. "We need to make sure you get back to whoever you live with safely."
"We won't tell on you, if that's what you're worried about," Robin added quickly. "Just don't steal anymore hubcaps and we'll call it a wash."
"No promises," Jason shot back, almost snapping if his voice didn't hold an edge of sad bitterness. "No one to tell."
Robin prepared to ask where his parents or guardians were, where he spent his nights and who took care of him, but Batman placed a hand on his shoulder. With the gentle pressure, he immediately understood. There was no one else. Nowhere to really go, no one to really take care of him. It was plain as day in his clothes, the bones showing through his skin, the pain in his eyes.
Jason Todd was alone.
Mentor and protege exchanged a glance. This boy is what may have happened to Bruce Wayne if he didn't have trust funds and a family name that practically screamed money. He was who Dick Grayson may have turned into if Bruce Wayne hadn't been there that night at Haly's Circus to witness the fall of his family. This boy was what the fallen children of Gotham looked like before they turned into savage, broken adults.
He was both what was wrong with the city, with his hardened features and tired eyes, but he was also what was worth saving. Both of them saw it. In spite of the hell the city had given him, in spite of how close to destroyed he looked, there was an almost spiteful determination and incontrovertible humor buried beneath the scar tissue.
And the city didn't need another broken adult.
"One more question," Batman promised, his almost consoling voice forcing Jason to look him fully. "Do you want a place to stay for the night?"
"What's the catch?" Jason asked, eyes darting between the two heroes.
"No catch. Just a deal. If you come with us, you don't steal and run off. We're trusting you here—"
"That's brave of you…"
"—and in exchange you get free reign of the kitchen," Batman finished, ignoring the interruption. If there was one thing the detective could read about this kid, it was that he was too smart to bite the hand that fed him.
"You're going to regret that," Jason said, his eyes brightening at the thought of a fully stocked kitchen at his mercy. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"We'll consider ourselves warned," Robin chuckled as their plates were set in front of them.
As if that was enough assurance that they wouldn't go back on their word, Jason immediately dug into his trough of food. Chili, milkshake, cheese, and various greasy bits practically flew in all directions as the boy seemed to transform into a member of the Flash family.
Okay… maybe they might regret the kitchen offer a little.
Reviews would be much appreciated! Thanks for reading!
- Defective