So, this is a bit of a "fluffy" chapter before we really get into Jason's tenure as Robin and into the darker side of his early life. I thought it was necessary to show a bit of the adjustment period, which I feel like YJ Bruce would have wanted to make sure he had.
Anyway, I hope you all like it! As usual, reviews are always appreciated!
February 20, 2011 04:17 – Gotham
Two weeks. The boy had been there for just over two weeks, yet it was just now that Dick was seeing pieces of the unguarded Jason Todd. For the most part, the boy from Crime Alley still managed to keep a protective wall up, hiding his thoughts and feelings behind snark and humor. Yet, as time wore on, the acrobat was able to catch small glimpses of someone else well-practiced in putting on a show.
At night, just when he and Bruce returned from patrol, was really when he saw Jason's walls crumble the most. Initially it was little things—sad looks or a voice talking to itself behind a closed door. Sometimes he could hear small feet pacing well past midnight, or catch sullen looks and awkward fidgeting when mentions of future engagements for Bruce and Dick came up in conversation.
It wasn't until the third week that it all came to a head.
Another nightmare. Dick was far too used to them by now, but it didn't make them any easier to stomach. Once again he was forced to relive his family's deaths, see his uncle practically break apart but somehow cling to some remnants of life. And, once again he was jolted awake in a cold sweat before he made his way down to the kitchen. Midnight snacks tended to dull the pain his all-too-frequent nightmares would bring.
He hadn't expected to see Jason there, perched up on one of the counters as he fished through their abundance of cabinets.
"Looking for something?" Dick asked.
The shock of the sudden interruption in silence caused Jason to lose his balance, toppling sideways to the hardwood floor. Dick winced when the boy hit his arm on the way down. No way that wasn't going to bruise.
"You scared the shit out of me!" Jason snapped, sitting upright and holding his injured arm. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Okay, he had felt bad until the little jerk snapped at him. "What's wrong with me? You're the one skulking around down here. What are you doing?"
"What's it look like? Getting food," Jason answered.
And that should have been that, except Dick noticed the pile of food sitting next to where the boy had been just a moment before, the bag (his bag!) open next to it along with a few articles of clothing they had lent to him over the last few weeks. It didn't take the world's greatest detective to figure this one out.
"You're running?"
"I'm not running anywhere," Jason said defensively, dusting himself off and rubbing his sore elbow. "I'm leaving."
"Funny, it looks like you're running."
"Actually, it looks like I'm standing here. What's it to you, anyway? Look, I… I've already been in your hair long enough, okay? I know when I've overstayed my welcome. I just needed some supplies before I got going."
All right, now Dick was back to confused. He liked to consider himself pretty smart—not to brag, but he was technically a genius, after all—and usually he knew how to read people. This? This was throwing him off. Where was this coming from?
"You haven't overstayed anything, Jay," Dick replied.
Surprise, fleeting but very much there, flashed over Jason's features. Then it was gone, leaving irrational anger in its wake. "Don't call me that. My name is Jason, and I don't belong here. I need to get out of here before one of you remembers that and kicks my ass to the curb."
"No one is going to kick your ass anywhere, Jason. Well, except maybe in the gym. Did something happen? Did Bruce say something, or Alfred? If you did something to piss them off, just relax. They'll calm down and talk to you about it. It's not worth leaving over."
Dick had expected his words to at least calm the younger boy enough to give him a straight answer, but instead he received a flying jar of peanut butter zooming toward his head. Ducking at the last minute, the jar thudded roughly against the kitchen island before crashing to the floor.
"You don't get it, do you?!"
Angry, hurt, or whatever, Dick didn't care. If Jason threw one more thing at him or yelled at him one more time, he really was going to kick his ass. Probably all over the kitchen.
Thankfully, he didn't get the chance. As soon as the yell burst from Jason, someone else cleared their throat nearby. Without a single word spoken, both boys knew Bruce was there, lurking in the shadows.
"I…" Jason started as Bruce stepped into the kitchen lighting. "I was just…"
"Running."
"Would you two stop saying that! I'm leaving. Thanks for everything, it's been real, all that crap, but it's time for me to go. I know it, you know it, and I know you know it. This was never permanent."
Bruce stepped closer to Jason, the boy retreating until his back hit into the counter. As tough as he was, Dick knew how intimidating his guardian could be on tough criminals and Wayne Enterprises board members. From experience, he knew it was much worse for an eleven-year-old kid.
When Bruce got close enough, Dick saw Jason flinch, as if preparing to be knocked sideways by the behemoth of a man. Instead, Bruce knelt in front of him to see eye-to-eye. He had used this stance a few times with Dick, mostly in his early days in the manor when he was still adjusting to his new family, and the older boy knew why the man was using it now. He saw as Jason relaxed, his face changing from anger and fear to simple curiosity.
"If you want to leave, Jason, no one is going to stop you, but it would be irresponsible for me to just let you go without knowing where you'd be going to. Do you have somewhere else in mind?"
"Back where I came from," he answered.
"The streets?" Dick asked, earning a look from the other two.
"Where else? It's where I belong."
Bruce shook his head, slowly reaching out to put a hand on Jason's shoulder, like a person would reach out their hand for a skittish dog to sniff. Upon realizing the man wasn't going to use his fist to lay into him, the child's posture eased and he pulled himself away from the support of the marble counters.
"I can't just let you run back to the streets, Jason. Someone needs to take care of you. Watch out for you. I can take you to one of the children's homes in the city. I've donated to quite a few over the years, and I'm sure they'd be able to make room for you."
"You kidding? Me go to a home? Those places are dead ends and you know it! No one wants a kid my age, and I'll end up being tossed around until I age out of the system. It's how things work. I'd rather live on the streets."
Dick sighed, lifting himself up to perch on the island. "I still don't get why you can't stay here. What's wrong with here?"
"I told you—"
"Yeah, you don't belong or something. Who told you that?"
Jason looked between him and Bruce, struggling to find the right words. "No one… Not outright, anyway. But it's coming, and I'd rather leave on my own terms than get kicked out on someone else's."
"Jason," Bruce said, his voice firm, "no one is going to kick you out. If you want to go somewhere else, I am happy to make other arrangements, but the offer stands for you to stay here."
"But… you just took me in for a little while. This wasn't permanent," he repeated.
"Do you want it to be?" Bruce asked.
The look of utter shock on Jason's face almost made Dick laugh out loud. Thankfully, the seriousness of the situation kept him down to just a smug little grin.
"You can't be serious," Jason finally said.
"You say that a lot for someone who has gotten to know me well enough to know how serious I am," Bruce replied.
Jason took his time evaluating the looks he was getting from Dick and Bruce, chewing his bottom lip raw. He wanted to stay. Dick saw it written all over his face, but he could also see the uneasiness. The uncertainty of relying on someone else.
"If it helps, I ran away a little after I first came here, too," he felt the need to offer.
The younger boy looked up at Dick in surprise at his confession, Dick smiling as he kept going. Maybe the story would help.
"It was about a month in and I kept hearing about how Bruce had taken me in as a charity case for good publicity. I figured he was going to just dump me the minute I stopped making his name look good in the papers. He had promised to help me track down the man that killed by parents, but I thought he was just saying that. His reputation, you know?"
Jason nodded, apparently also aware of the fickle, playboy reputation Bruce had adopted. He had learned over the last few weeks that Dick's real parents had been killed, though he had yet to pry about the particulars. After all, then they would pry into his. He knew the Graysons were murdered, and that's all he needed to know. For now.
"Anyway, he swore I was able to stay here as long as I wanted. Promised he wasn't trying to replace my parents, but he'd be willing to be another one if I was willing to have him. And, that was that. Well, I was grounded for two weeks for sneaking out at three in the morning, but mostly that was that," Dick finished with a laugh, looking up to the smiling face of his father-figure.
A hopeful look crossed Jason's face, but it quickly darkened once more. "I'm nothing but street trash, though."
"And I'm a circus freak. He's supposed to be some idiot playboy. See how this works?"
Hesitating, his fingers twisting around themselves, at long last Jason looked up to Bruce with wide, inquisitive eyes. "You want me to stay?"
"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't."
Dick was worried the boy's face was going to crack with how wide he smiled at that. Nodding, Jason climbed back onto the counter and began putting the food away.
Of course, he couldn't resist asking, "If I stay, does this mean I can train to fight crime, too?"
It took a couple more weeks of convincing, but Bruce eventually allowed Jason to partake in the intense training that had led Dick to become Robin. Parts of it came naturally to the boy, and parts were an agonizing struggle. Dick could see his foster brother was better at hand-to-hand combat than he had ever been starting out, but his technical know-how could use a lot of work. It was clear from the get-go that Jason had barely even used the internet, let alone worked up any hacking skills.
Still, in spite of a lot of cursing and some thrown objects, Jason eventually began to understand the basics. Determined to ace every subject of his training, he often stayed up in the cave until Batman and Robin returned from patrol, bleary-eyed as he struggled to bypass yet another firewall.
Hero training wasn't the only thing he was getting. In between playing butler, doctor, cook, engineer, tailor, and confidante, Alfred now played tutor to the boy who had a spotty education, at best. They were all relieved to see he was naturally intelligent and eager to learn. Perhaps not eager to do homework, but at least interested in understanding various complex concepts and meticulously researching until he discovered an answer.
It was this intense focus that had him battle and book ready within six months.
August 7, 2011 09:45 – Gotham
"Registration is tomorrow morning, so I want you both up and ready to go by 8:00," Bruce informed the boys as they sat down to a late Sunday breakfast.
Jason groaned, almost falling out of his seat with how far low he sank. "Why can't I keep homeschooling? I do all my homework—" Insert a cough from Alfred as he prepared the pancake batter. "I mean, I do most of my homework, and you've seen how good I do when it's just one-on-one."
"How well you do," Bruce corrected.
"See? You said so yourself."
"Jason," Bruce grunted, sending the boy a look. "Dick and Barbara will be there, and it will do some good to get in more social interaction. This is the perfect year for you to start. With Gotham Academy starting in 7th grade, you'll be in with the rest of the newcomers. You'll get to navigate through the next few years together and build up some camaraderie."
"Did you really just say that?" Jason asked, Dick laughing into his orange juice.
"Wait 'til you get into high school. He turns into a brochure when he talks about college and your future. I don't know how many ways you can use the words 'pave', 'success', and 'horizons', but apparently it's over fifty."
Bruce glared at the two of them, still adjusting at how often the boys ganged up on him.
"Do not make exaggerations, Master Richard," Alfred called from the stove.
"Thanks, Alfred," said Bruce.
"He merely said those words thirty times. It was 'future' he mentioned over fifty," the butler continued, Bruce letting out a low growl and returning to his coffee and newspaper.
Both boys let out a laugh at the man's expense, though soon Jason returned to his sour look and moping. "I still don't see why I have to go. Dick and Barbara are going to be in a whole different building, practically opposite of where I'll be."
"It's not that far," Dick assured him. "Besides, I'll get a free period when you have lunch, so we can hang out sometimes when I don't need to study. That should help."
"Yeah. Maybe," his younger brother muttered, looking anything but convinced.
"Besides, kids in your grade will be there tomorrow and you'll get to meet people before your birthday. If you make friends, I'm sure you could invite them over. I'll even invite Babs and Artemis," Dick added, smirking when he saw how much his plan to perk the boy up had worked.
"Seriously? I can invite people over?"
Bruce put his newspaper down at that. After six months, sometimes he forgot they still had these moments where Jason could not quite comprehend what it was like having a real home with a real family. Even for stoic Bruce Wayne, it was downright heartbreaking.
"Of course you can invite people over. We'll discuss it after orientation tomorrow."
"In other words, you're bribing me to behave."
"I never used those words," Bruce pointed out, conveniently finding a news article he was suddenly interested in.
"You didn't have to, boss," Jason laughed, exchanging a knowing glance with Dick. Batman may have been near impossible to read, but sometimes Bruce was way too easy.
I saw somewhere that Jason's birthday was August 16th, and I'm assuming a school like that has some sort of early registration date even if it starts in the beginning of September. Either way, probably one more "fluffy" chapter coming up soon. Hope you all enjoyed this one!
- Defective