Shutting the door to his bedroom, Jason carefully limps towards his bed. He had landed incorrectly on his right foot earlier on patrol with Dick, and though he had managed to hide the initial pain from Dick for the remainder of night, it is much worse now. Usually, he doesn't have much trouble with his right leg, which is a miracle of its own, considering how badly it had been damaged both before and after his rescue from the Joker. If his leg was the same it had been two years ago, there probably would be almost no pain to complain about at the moment. But it's aching now, especially around the area where his artificial hip bone is. He's not concerned though; it'll be fine by tomorrow afternoon, as long as he doesn't walk on it anymore tonight.
Dropping his helmet to the floor, Jason collapses onto his bed with a low groan. He kicks the boot off of his right foot, but when he tries to do the same for the left, pain flares up his right leg. Letting out a frustrated puff of air, Jason brings his left leg towards his chest and pulls the boot off with his hands, tossing it over the side of the bed. He still is wearing his armored leather jacket and camo pants, but he really couldn't care less at the moment. All he wants to do is sleep.
"Jason?"
Jason blinks and lifts his head slightly to see Dick in the doorway, holding a bag of ice. I guess I didn't cover up the damn limp as well as I had hoped. A frown crosses Jason's face. "As shocking as this may sound, I don't need you to baby me, Dick."
Dick raises an eyebrow. "Apparently you do." He walks over to Jason's side. "You haven't even gotten your uniform off yet."
"So?"
Shaking his head, Dick drops the bag of ice to the bed. "Sit up."
"You're being stupid."
"You're being idiotic. Sit up and at least get your jacket off."
Glaring at Dick, Jason pushes himself up from the bed. He winces as he moves and Dick steps closer, looking anxious.
"You sure nothing was fractured?" he asks.
Jason rolls his eyes. "Trust me, if something was fractured, I'd know." He grits his teeth as he shrugs out of his jacket, trying to keep his weight off of his right hip as he moves. "But I'm going to break something of yours if you don't leave soon. I want to sleep."
"Then you're in the wrong line of work," Dick says with a grin. He reaches out and takes the jacket before Jason can protest, throwing it onto an armchair placed in front of the TV.
"Whatever," Jason slurs, his eyes drooping as he falls back to the bed. His leg is jostled as he moves, and he cannot help the harsh flinch that cascades down his body.
Dick watches him with concern. "Seriously, how bad is it?"
"It'll be fine by tomorrow," insists Jason. "Honestly. Just let me sleep…"
Dick picks up the bag of ice and holds it out. "Here."
Jason takes the bag and, upon settling it against his hip, cannot help the sigh of relief that emanates from him. "Thanks," he murmurs.
A soft smile spreads across Dick's face. "You're welcome." He starts to head towards the bedroom door, but Jason's voice stops him.
"Hey, Dick?"
"Yeah?" Dick says, turning back to Jason.
Jason is quiet, uncertain whether or not to even ask. Silence fills the space between them, but Dick waits patiently.
Finally, Jason gives a small sigh. "Do we have to do this charity thing?"
Dick's brow creases. "Yes…" he says slowly. "Of course we do. Why?"
Jason bites his lip. "It's not that I don't want to help out. I do. It's just…all those kids, and I've never really been outside of the Manor all that often these past months as just me. With…this." He gestures to his left cheek, his expression turning sober.
Coldness runs through Dick as he stares at the scar. He returns his gaze to Jason's, who is watching him intently. "Jason," Dick begins tentatively. "It's going to be fine. You have a cover story for it –"
A bitter laugh bursts from Jason. "It's not a cover story. This thing has been carved into my fucking skin twice by the same psycho. And all of Gotham knows about the second time."
Dick shifts awkwardly. "Well, I suppose that's what you'll just have to tell any kids that question it. Which I'm sure they won't."
Jason gives a disbelieving snort.
"Besides," Dick continues. "Tim and I will be with you – you're not going to be alone."
The unease in Jason's eyes does not lesson at Dick's words.
Dick leans forward and places a hand on Jason's arm. "It's going to be fine, Jason. I promise."
"You know the old, cliché saying, Dick," Jason mutters. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
"Well I hate clichés," says Dick. "So I don't mind breaking a few every once in a while."
Jason wants to smile at the joke, wants to find comfort in his brother's reassurance. But he can't. Instead he shifts, turning away so that he's no longer fully facing Dick. "See you in the morning, Dick."
Dick straightens, sympathy in his eyes as he looks down at Jason. "Okay," he says quietly. "Night, Jay."
Jason doesn't say anything as Dick leaves. With the terror of having to face dozens of people with his scarred face, Jason's thoughts are anything but relaxed as he drifts off to sleep. For the first night in over two weeks Jason's dreams once again turn into dark nightmares, in which clowns and demonic bats run wild. Yet when he jolts awake no one is there by his bedside, and sleep does not return for hours afterwards.
/
All too soon comes the day of the charity event. Alfred drops the boys off in front of The Thomas and Martha Wayne Home for Foster Children, promising to pick them up at 4:30pm. The three of them wait until the limo has disappeared around the street corner before advancing up the steps leading to the entrance building of the foster home. At the top of the steps wait two women in jeans and plain, neon-colored t-shirts.
"Hello there," the taller of the two women greets, holding out her hand for the boys to shake. "You must be the Wayne boys."
A cheerful smile spreads across Dick's face. "I'm Dick. These are my brothers, Jason and Tim."
The woman's gaze falls upon Jason's scar almost instantly, lingering there for a few seconds. But she does not comment on it nor, surprisingly, look too visibly horrified by it. Then again, this isn't exactly the greatest part of Gotham, and Jason assumes she's probably seen worse.
The woman tears her gaze away from Jason's cheek and gives a warm smile to all three of the boys. "I'm Melonie, director of activities here. This is Amber, my intern who will also be helping out today."
"We have forty children participating in today's event," Amber says, tugging the entrance door open. "Boys and girls, ages four to thirteen."
Melonie and Amber lead Dick, Jason, and Tim down the entry hall and through another set of doors. They come out into a large courtyard surrounded by buildings of varying sizes, all labeled with letters A through E.
"We'll be doing outside sports, arts and crafts, and stories," says Melonie. She stops in the center of the courtyard. "We have eight other volunteers helping today, but – as I'm sure Mr. Wayne had told you – we want you three to be leading the events. You'll each be at a station for fifty minutes before switching to a new one. Sound good?"
The boys nod.
"Fantastic." Melonie rubs a hand against her chin, considering. "Well, I suppose it really doesn't matter where you all go first. Dick, why don't we have you start with the outdoor sports? Jason, you can do the story reading. And Tim – arts and crafts. Is that alright?"
"Yup," grins Dick.
"Sounds good," says Tim.
Jason just nods, struggling to hide the anxiety creeping up within him.
The doors to the building on the left of them suddenly open, and two adults wearing neon shirts similar to Melonie and Amber's walk outside, followed by a large group of children.
The children chatter amongst themselves as they approach, poking and pushing at each other to get a look at the famous Wayne boys they most likely had seen on television at one point or another. Jason tenses as the group approaches, though he's able to keep his face devoid of any of the apprehension he's feeling. The group comes to a stop, spreading out in a half-circle around the event leaders.
"Good afternoon, everyone," Melonie says with a smile. "I hope you're all as excited for today's event as I am. Now as you all know, we will be having a few special guests helping lead the activities. Please give a warm welcome to Dick, Jason, and Tim – Bruce Wayne's sons."
A few kids smile and wave excitedly. Most half-heartedly join in on the clapping the adult leaders begin, out of sheer habit. Some look utterly bored by the whole thing.
"Alright, well, we don't want to fall behind schedule," continues Melonie. "So let's begin. Evan, Amber, James? Why don't you show Dick, Jason, and Tim where to go and what to do." She turns back to the children. "Listen up everyone. Blue group will stay here with Evan and Dick. Red group will go into Building C with Amber and Jason. Yellow group will go into Building E with James and Tim. Stick with your leaders, and have fun!"
A kind of organized chaos seems to erupt as the massive crowd of children obediently follow their leaders in the ordered directions. Amber taps Jason's shoulder and nods towards of one of the smaller buildings. "This way, Jason."
Jason glances back for a final glimpse of Dick and Tim, but both of them have already disappeared. Licking his lips nervously, Jason follows Amber and a group of fourteen kids to Building C.
Jason isn't sure what to expect, but it certainly isn't what he finds himself in after entering the building. The room he is led to is a full-fledged library; it isn't particularly huge, but it's adequate enough to serve its purpose. Shelves that don't stand higher than Jason's chest are lined neatly along the back of the room, stuffed full with books. Various posters encouraging kids to read cover the walls, and a cheap-looking plastic globe hangs from the center of the room's ceiling. In the left-hand corner of the room a circular patch of the floor dips down about half a foot, creating a sort of pit for kids to sit and read in. Bean bag chairs litter the pit, which the children all immediately rush to upon entering the library.
"This is amazing," Jason exclaims, looking around him. "I never would have guessed you'd have something like this."
"We didn't originally," says Amber. "But your father, Mr. Wayne, had insisted on us having one, and a few years ago he gave us an extra donation, along with the usual annual one – specifically to be used for creating this library."
Jason smiles. "Of course he did," he mutters.
Amber gestures towards the pit the children are currently scrambling over each other to get the best seats in. "There's a stack of books beside the adult's chair in the Reading Pit. Go ahead and pick out a few to read to the kids. After you've read for a while I'll do some trivia games with them."
Jason shuffles his feet. "Uh, okay." Slowly he makes his way over to the pit. As he steps down into it the children all turn to face him, their eyes bright with curiosity as Jason awkwardly makes his way to the adult chair. A few of the kids lean over to their friends, whispering and pointing at Jason's face. Heat flushes throughout Jason's body; he knows exactly what they're all looking at. His movements stiff, Jason drops into the chair placed at the front of the group of kids.
There's a beat of silence. "Um…" begins Jason. "Hi. I'm Jason."
"What happened to your face?" asks a boy. He is rather small, looking to be no more than five years old.
"Anthony!" scolds Amber.
"It's fine," Jason says quietly. Trying to steady his trembling hands, he looks at the boy who had spoken. "It…uh…"
"You're Jason Todd," interrupts a girl. She flips a long braid over her shoulder and straightens in her seat. She is clearly one of the older kids present – probably about thirteen years old. "I remember seeing your picture on television last year. The news lady said you had been kidnapped by the Joker."
Several of the children gasp at that. Eyes widen as they stare at Jason, even a few mouths drop open.
"The Joker?" a boy exclaims.
"What'd he look like?" asks another. "Does he really have white skin and green hair?"
"My friend said he has red eyes that shoot lasers!" declares one of the younger kids. "Is that true?"
"That's Superman, stupid," snaps another kid.
A different boy pipes up in a rather high-pitched voice. "Does he really drive around in a clown car?"
"Does he have acid pies?" asks a girl nervously. "My friend said he does!"
Questions spout relentlessly from the mouths of the children. Some seem excited to ask about the famed clown. Others look scared out of their wits, no doubt having grown up hearing of the horrors the Joker has been responsible for. But the outburst lasts only for a few seconds before Amber interrupts.
"Everyone, everyone!" exclaims Amber, shouting to be heard over the din. "Please, be quiet. These questions are not appropriate in any manner." She gives Jason an apologetic look. "I am so sorry. They don't –"
"Really, it's okay," insists Jason, though the emotions swirling within him are telling him that it's anything but that. "I was sort of expecting this, honestly."
"Did the Joker do that to you?" the girl with the braids asks, nodding at Jason's cheek.
Jason is quiet for a moment. "Yes," he answers. His voice is solemn, but it carries a hard edge to it.
"The news lady said Batman rescued you," the girl presses, ignoring Amber's warning glare.
"Batman rescued you?" a boy exclaims. "That's awesome!"
"Is he really half bat?" a little girl asks, looking positively terrified at the idea.
Despite his anxiety, Jason can't help but smirk a little at that. "No," he says. "He's not."
The girl gives a squeaky sigh of relief.
"Does he –" begins the boy who had asked about the Joker having laser eyes.
"That's enough, everyone," Amber cuts in, holding out her hand. "If you cannot control yourselves, I will have to ask Tara to come and take those being disruptive out of the room." This threat seems to pacify most of the children, though a few continue to whisper to those sitting close to them.
Amber looks at Jason apologetically. "If you aren't feeling up to this…"
"No," Jason says quickly. He would probably die of embarrassment if he walked out because he couldn't handle answering the questions of curious children. "It's fine." He focuses back on the kids staring up at him. "Um…well, I guess I'm supposed to read to you guys. Is there…is there a favorite book any of you have?" He glances down. "There's a pile here, but I'm sure we can look around for others if you want…"
At least half of the children shoot their hands into the air, bouncing in their seats and giving desperate shouts of "Me! Pick me!" and "I have a favorite!" Jason scans the group, but as his gaze travels over them he feels himself being drawing to the back of the Reading Pit, where a girl who looks to be no older than eight years old sits.
Golden brown hair spills around her shoulders, and unevenly cut bangs fall into her downcast eyes. She wears too-big overalls and a white t-shirt beneath it, but what catches Jason's eye is something else entirely. A large scar runs along her right arm, crookedly carving into her skin and twisting up to her elbow, where it stops. Unlike the majority of the other kids, she does not have her hand in the air. Rather, she stares at her worn sneakers with a soberness that seems far too mature for someone her age.
Eyeing her curiously, Jason nods in her direction and glances at Amber. "Who's that?" he whispers.
Amber's mouth twists with discomfort upon seeing who Jason is referring to. "Oh. That's Emily." She keeps her voice low enough that none of the kids can hear her over their chatter. "She's…rather shy."
Jason nods, keeping his gaze locked on the small girl. "Emily?" he asks. The other children grow quiet, surprise on their faces upon hearing the rarely called name fall from his lips. They twist around, all staring at the girl who had been called upon.
Feeling the pressure of over a dozen eyes on her, Emily lifts her gaze timidly.
A warm smile spreads across Jason's lips. "Emily?" he tries again, careful to keep his voice gentle.
Emily's attention focuses on Jason's scar; as her gaze travels over the letter, something flickers in her eyes. The closest emotion Jason can pin it to is a form of empathy, a realization which surprises him.
"Do you have a favorite book, Emily?" asks Jason.
Emily glances about her nervously. Her gaze falls back to her shoes, and she begins to fiddle with the messily tied laces. Jason waits, giving her time to speak. He knows he should probably move on to another kid, but he can't help himself. He wants to talk to this girl.
The girl bits her lip, staring into the ground. Moments pass, and the other children begins to shift, their restlessness becoming apparent. Then Emily mutters something Jason can't hear.
"What?" he asks.
She repeats the book title, though even with Jason straining to listen he barely manages to catch it.
"The Velveteen Rabbit."
Jason had never read that book. He had seen it in bookstores before, but as his parents never bothered with things like books he had never been read it as a child. Curiosity pokes at him now as he bends down, reaching for the pile of books stacked beside him.
"It's not in there," Amber says. "Hold on." She hurries to a nearby shelf, shuffling through the various books until she pulls the correct one out.
Jason takes the book from her, staring at the cover for a second before opening it to the first page and holding it up so that the children can see the pictures.
"Okay then," he says. He clears his throat, his anxiety only increasing at being the center of attention. He begins to read, the words falling from his mouth awkwardly as they're spoken. "There once was a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid…"
Though starting off hesitant, Jason's voice grows in confidence as he reads. Some of the older kids seem slightly bored by the book, no doubt having read it numerous times over the years. But many of the younger children sit enraptured, their eyes drinking in the lovingly painted illustrations and their ears soaking up the carefully read words.
"'What is Real?' asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender'…"
At first, Emily keeps her eyes downcast to the floor. But as the story goes on, the tension seems to dissipate from her body, and her attention slowly moves itself to Jason and the book he is holding.
"'Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real.'
'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit.
"'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.'"
Jason swallows, glancing over at Emily before continuing.
'Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked. 'Or bit by bit?'
'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.'"
Jason's hands tremble as he turns the page. He clutches the book tightly as he reads, afraid that if he loosens his grip it will fall from his unstable grasp. The moment he finishes the book numerous kids immediately burst out cries of which story they want read next. But Jason hardly hears them; his focus is on Emily, who is staring at the copy of The Velveteen Rabbit lying in his lap.
With the help of the other kids, Jason picks out two more books to read. He reads them well enough, though his mind remains with the story of the rabbit and the girl who had requested it. Finally, the reading part of the fifty minutes is over, and Amber steps in to do some trivia questions. By the time she is finished, there is still ten minutes left, which Amber allows the children to use to pick out books to check out. She and Jason stand off to the side, watching the kids as they rummage through the bookshelves, debating with each other over which ones would be worth reading.
"I'm not sure this is appropriate for me to ask," Jason says, keeping his voice low enough so that only Amber can hear. "But I couldn't help but notice the scar on Emily's arm. Do you know what it's from?"
Amber's face takes on a grim expression. "It was from her mother," she says. Jason stares at her with disbelieving eyes, and Amber's mouth dips into a sad frown. "Emily has only been with us for five months. The home she had come from was…especially bad. Her mother had been extremely abusive." She sighs, rubbing her arm. "She's had a difficult time adjusting. She doesn't play with the other kids, she rarely even talks to the adults. She sees a psychologist, obviously, but the sessions haven't been very successful. It's tragic to watch, but no one is really sure what to do with her."
Jason watches as Emily places herself at the edge of the Reading Pit, holding The Velveteen Rabbit close and flipping slowly through the pages. "Can I talk to her?"
"Sure," Amber says. "Just don't be offended if she doesn't respond to you."
Jason gives a small shrug, then makes his way over to where Emily is sitting. The girl's head snaps up at Jason approaches, her eyes wide like a frightened animal's.
Jason stops, holding out his hands. "Hi," he says gently. "I just…I thought I'd sit here for a bit. Is that okay?"
Emily's gaze once again falls to the scar disfiguring Jason's cheek. She nods her head, shifting slightly to allow Jason to sit down.
"So this is your favorite book?" he asks, settling beside her.
Emily presses her lips together, fingering one of the book's pages. "Yes," she whispers.
"I had never read it before," Jason admits. "So I'm glad you suggested it."
Emily doesn't answer. She shuffles her feet and drops her gaze back to the book. A long minute passes, with neither of the two speaking. Then Emily lifts her eyes to Jason's.
"The man who did that to you," she says, looking at his scar. "He's a bad man, isn't he." It's not a question.
Jason studies the girl, taken aback by the maturity she possesses in her voice. "Yes," he says. There is no shakiness to the word – it is strong, absolute.
Emily glances down at her own healed injury. "The woman who gave me this," she says timidly. "She was a bad woman, wasn't she?" That is a question. It's uncertain – unsure if it wants to be answered.
Unease pools in Jason's stomach. "I didn't know her," he replies. "But if she gave you that willingly and knowingly, then yes, I'd say that she was."
Emily nods, not looking surprised, yet the sadness is still there. "I wish she wasn't."
Jason does not answer right away – he cannot trust his voice. "Me too," he finally says. His movement hesitant, he reaches out, and then places a hand over Emily's. Emily freezes at Jason's touch, but she doesn't recoil like he assumed she would. Then sit in silence, and as the seconds pass Emily begins to ease, her hand uncurling beneath Jason's.
Emily opens her mouth to say something, but before she can speak the boom of a loud explosion sounds throughout the library, accompanied by a hard shaking of the ground. The children cry out in alarm, running towards Amber, who is standing by the checkout desk. Startled, Emily grasps Jason's hand.
"What was that?" Jason asks harshly, spinning around to look at Amber, who is being clung to by a dozen kids.
"I-I don't know," stammers Amber.
Jason turns back around, looking up at the windows of the library. Smoke rises into view, and the distant sound of screaming reaches Jason's ears.
"Oh no…" he breathes. He stands, still holding onto Emily's hand as he approaches the high windows. Luckily, Emily is too short to see out of them.
He looks out to find nothing but horror.
An explosion of some kind had gone off in the courtyard near the gates leading to the parking lot. Smoke and still-falling debris make it hard to see clearly, but Jason is still able to make out the few forms of children running about wildly, searching aimlessly for refuge in their terror. Other forms lie sprawled out across the ground – unconscious or dead, Jason can't tell. Then a new thought registers in Jason's mind.
"Dick," he whispers. Dick had been outside with the sports group. He can't see Dick from his current vantage point, and that only increases his panic. Bending down, Jason places his hands on Emily's shoulders. "Emily, I'm going to go see what happened. You're going to stay here with Amber. You'll be fine, okay? But you need to stay here."
Emily nods, though fear dominates her eyes. His expression grim, Jason once again takes Emily's hand, leading her over to Amber.
"Once I leave, lock and bar the doors, then take the kids and all of you hide behind the checkout desk," he orders, passing Emily over to Amber. "Do not open those doors for anyone you don't know."
"What's going on?" Amber asks nervously.
"Something's happening out there, and it's not safe for you or the kids."
"But what about you?"
"My brother is out there," Jason says. "I need to help him. But it doesn't make sense for anyone else to risk getting hurt. So just do as I said and stay put. I promise, help will come."
"But –"
Jason is already running towards the library doors. "Do it!" Then he's gone, sprinting down the short hall and bursting outside into the smoke-filled air.
"Dick!" he shouts, rushing forward into the chaos. "Dick!" He coughs harshly, wheezing against the smoke invading his lungs as he searches desperately. "Di –"
A second explosion goes off. It's smaller than the first, but it's still powerful enough to knock Jason off of his feet. Jason crashes to the ground, rolling into the motionless body of one of the activity leaders. His head pounding and ears ringing, Jason scrambles upright and looks down in revulsion at the seared remains. Suddenly, he hears the roaring of a large truck coming to a stop. He glances up and his breath hitches in his throat at the sight he sees.
"We throw the greatest surprise parties, don't we boys!"
Surrounded by at least a dozen men dressed as clowns, Harley Quinn rises from her seat in the truck bed, wearing her usual obnoxious red and black outfit. A smile stretches across her face as she pulls out an already lit firecracker, which she tosses up into the air happily.
"Woo-ee! This is gonna be fun!"
/
/
/
Here's a citation for The Velveteen Rabbit:
Williams, Margery. The Velveteen Rabbit. New York City: Grosset Dunlap, 1922. Print.