To say Jason felt like an idiot would be an understatement. He tugged at the tie, but it didn't relieve the suffocating feeling. His mother spent the entire morning gushing over the two of them and how adorable he looked. He was going more for a James Dean type of look. He already had the cigarette, but it was too late for his mother to retract the statement. And the constant flash of Tim's camera with the explicit instructions to Tim to make her copies only served to make him redder than James Dean's jacket in Rebel Without A Cause.
Now, though, standing among the sea of conformity and some sleek and shiny fancy stone he didn't know the name of, he gaped at his surroundings. "Fu-" he started, only to receive a sharp elbow to the gut and a look from Tim. He glared back. He might dress like them, but he'll be damned if he starts talking like them.
Not that either of those worked well. He thought things like uniforms would be an immediate way to fit in, but he stuck out like a sore thumb. He couldn't tell if it was his backpack held together by different colored thread, duct tape, and luck, or if there were some invisible flashing neon signs saying "Charity Case" and "Scholarship Kid" that everyone else could see but him. It was what they were all saying at least in pretend whispers and behind hands and school books.
Tim led the way to their locker and Jason kept his glare at his back. It was better than keeping his head down, staring at his shoes, or gaping at the graffiti-free walls or trying to see if they had a hunchback in their bell tower. He hated how easily Tim could melt into the crowds and become invisible. How he was not the center of everyone's attention and gossip. How nobody doubted whether or not Tim was meant to go there.
A book being shoved into his stomach broke him of his thoughts. "If you keep looking like that your face is going to freeze that way." Tim warned. There was a lack of the usual humor behind the statement. He sounded as on edge as Jason did, but it didn't show past his lowered voice.
"Shut up." Jason muttered, pushing Tim aside to shove his backpack in the shared space.
Tim rolled his eyes and started down the hall. "Whoa, whoa, hold up there!" Jason slammed their locker and raced after him. He snatched his wrist. "Where are you going?"
"Class," Tim said as though it were obvious. "The bells going to ring in a minute."
"What class?" Jason gritted his teeth, eying the other student who stared and whispered and went around them like Moses parting the red sea.
"Seriously, Jason, you didn't even look at the schedule?" Tim shoved a paper in his face. He grabbed the paper and stared at the list. Tim had History, room LW4. He had Math, room UE9. He flipped to a map. The school was two floors labeled as Lower and Upper, with four separate wings labeled as Cardinal Directions.
"That's on opposite sides of the campus." Jason groaned. Tim shrugged failing to see what the problem was. Jason wasn't even sure what the problem was. It just seemed like yet another reason to despise the whole situation.
"And we're going to be late." Tim stressed, snatching the paper away. "Look, we've got the same lunch at least and our sixth period classes are in the same wing."
"Fine." Jason muttered and took off in the opposite direction. "Whatever." Today was going to suck.
"Whatever," Tim agreed, heading to his own class.
Tim had to run to make it in time for his class. He flew through the door just as the teacher was about to lock it, making a grand entrance, enough to lose the invisibility he worked so hard to achieve. His teacher raised an eyebrow at him. "Mr. Drake, I take it," she greeted him dryly.
He handed her the paper he got from the office. "Sorry," he rubbed the back of his neck, flashing a sheepish smile. "Still getting the lay of the land." The students were immediately a hum of constant whispers and laughs.
She cleared her throat. "Well, now that you've got it, I hope to see you in here before the door closes and the final bell rings, Mr. Drake."
His eyes traced his audience and his face reddened. "Yes, ma'am. I'll just take a seat." He went to an empty chair, wishing the floor could swallow him up. He dropped his books to the top of his desk and his gaze to their covers. He was determined to be invisible once more.
The teacher locked the door. "Class, we have a new student." She gestured to him as though it wasn't glaringly obvious by now and he sunk further in his chair. "Timothy Drake. I'm sure he'll keep in mind for the future that punctuality is more important than a last name, isn't that correct, Mr. Drake?"
This might have been a mistake. He'd never admit it to Jason, but he was more than willing to admit it to himself. "Yes, ma'am." So much for invisibility.
"What was that, Mr. Drake?"
He cleared his voice and looked up at her. He met her eye for eye. "I said, that is correct, ma'am."
"And we will have no further disturbances because of you, I assume."
"You will not, ma'am."
"I thought so." She nodded and turned to the board to start her lessons. He followed along, diligently jotting down notes and following along in the book. For the most part, his classmates focused back on their lessons. If he could no longer be invisible to them, then he'd make them invisible to him.
When the bell rang, he was eager to gather his book and high-tail it to his next class. He was not going through that again. He didn't care if he had to scale the roof. As he stood up, a kid to his left whispered to his friend. "There's another charity case. My how the mighty have fallen." He met Tim's eye with an evil grin, ensuring Tim heard his every word.
The rest of the day had to be better than this, right?
Class already begun when Jason finally managed to find his class. He tried the handle, eager to rush to his seat and get the whole thing over with, but it was locked. This was just what he needed. Late on the first day. He was going to kill Tim for making him do this. He paced the hallway, trying to come up with a plan. He considered trying to pick the lock but was pretty sure that would be frowned upon, especially when he had an audience.
Out of ideas, he considered just heading to the boys bathroom for a smoke, if he could find it. But then he could lose the scholarship. And wouldn't that be a blessing? Still, he couldn't. He couldn't pinpoint why exactly, but it might have had something to do with the excitement and pride on his mother's face when they told her. Or it could've been his deal with the kid. Regardless of how much the kid might revel in his torture, because why else would he make this part of the agreement, he wasn't one to go back on his word. The manipulative bastard probably knew that, too.
Finally, he knocked on the glass. The door opened to a very stiff and unimpressed looking gentleman. His nose turned up in the air, he let out a huff. "Yes?" He asked impatiently.
"I'm here for class." Jason shrugged his backpack higher on his shoulder. "UE9, right?"
The teacher made a show of checking his watch. "Class begins at exactly 8:00. The doors are locked at 8:01. If you are not in the room and in your seat before 8:01, you may not attend class that day."
Jason's brow furrowed. "It's my first day here."
"And it is also 8:05."
"Thanks." Jason rolled his eyes. "I can read a clock."
"Well, I also assume you can read a map, such as one you should have obtained in the office upon your arrival, and numbers, such as the ones above the door." The teacher matched his sarcasm perfectly. "Otherwise you might be looking for a more remedial math."
"But…" Jason gritted his teeth.
"These are my rules." The teacher told him as though there was nothing he could do about.
"Are the written in stone or something? I didn't know. It won't happen again."
"I do not accept excuses. You are here now and, regardless of where you might have come from, I am going to hold you to the same standards. If it is too much of a challenge for you here, perhaps this school isn't for you." With that he turned back into the classroom.
Jason dropped his backpack to the tile floor. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" His only answer was the door shutting behind the teacher and the click of the lock.
Well, screw him, Jason thought. And screw the school. If he didn't think Jason could handle this school, he'd prove him wrong. He set off down the hall looking for his second class. He'd be early this time. The first one in his seat.
Tim sat at an abandoned lunch table. He took a thoughtful bite of a tater tot as he leaned his seat back and studied the map. If everything else about the day sucked, at least their lunch was good. Man, did he love tater tots. Jason dropped his tray to the table, letting his milk spill and fell into his chair, groaning. He loosened his tie, but even that didn't get the kid's attention.
"Remind me again why we're doing this, birdbrain?" He ignored the looks and whispers he received from the other tables. "I don't know about you, but my day sucks."
Tim started to respond, but Jason made a face. "Ugh, that's gross man. Don't talk with your mouth open. Aren't you rich kids taught manners or are you above all that?" Tim rolled his eyes and finished chewing. "You looked like a chipmunk!"
"I said, shut up because I'm working on the best route to my classes." He pulled a pen out from behind his ear and started marking up the map.
"Speaking of," Jason took a bite of his sandwich and tried to act like it was no big deal, "an absent on the first day of school isn't that big of a deal, right?"
"You skipped class!" Tim shouted, earning more looks and whispers.
"Just assume why don't you!"
"Fine, then what happened?"
"I couldn't find the place! I was a few minutes late and the guy wouldn't let me in! It wasn't my fault!"
Tim didn't mention a minute later and he'd be in the same boat. "It's probably fine." They both returned to eating in silence. "We could talk to Dick about it, just to be sure." Tim suggested. Jason hated the idea, but nodded in agreement.
They had an agreement to meet up at their locker at the end of the day. Jason shifted his backpack onto his other shoulder. By now, his back was growing stiff under all the weight. This was something else he hadn't missed about school. According to his teachers, he had a substantial amount to catch up on added to all the studying he was expected to accomplish that night alone.
How the hell did the kid expect him to be able to go to school full time plus support their families? Though the money they had from their recent jobs offer some security, it wouldn't last long. Too much was riding on a rather unpleasant experience. The only upside was the day would end at some point and at least his mother was happy.
He checked his watch once more. If they missed their bus and had to walk home, he was going to kill Tim. A slow and painful death, he plotted, finally dropping his backpack and giving his shoulders and back the much needed break.
He read for pleasure. He was sure he could catch up, not matter what those bastards thought. He gritted his teeth as the math teacher's words came to mind "where you might have come from." "And what rock did you crawl out of?" Jason muttered to himself.
"Let's go." Tim stalked passed him, hiking his back pack further up his shoulder.
"Hey," Jason caught up to him and spun him around. "Nice of you to join me. Where the hell were you? Class ended a half hour ago?"
Tim leveled him with a dangerous look. "Drop it." He growled. "I'm here now." He pushed Jason's hand off of him and continued out the door.
"What? Did prince charming stand you up for the ball, princess?"
"I said, drop it, Jason. I'm here now."
Jason got in front of him and blocked his way. "What was so pressing that you made me wait and most likely miss the bus? You've got that stupid map of yours all marked up with the quickest routes, so I know you didn't get lost."
"If we keep standing here, we'll definitely miss the bus." Tim argued. He raised an eyebrow. "Unless you'd like to lug these back packs halfway across town."
Jason pushed open the door, readying for a retort, when he froze in his tracks. Tim shot him a questioning look before looking up to find the reason. Across the abandoned school yard was none other than Dick Grayson, leaning against a car that made both boys drool. "Hey!" He shouted and waved to them.
The approached slowly, both stunned. Their back packs fell to the pavement outside the school gates as they gaped at the wonder of sleek chrome. "How was school?"
The enchantment was broken by his grin. "What are you doing here, Dickhead?" Jason crossed his arms and bit out. Tim elbowed him, but he ignored it.
"Thought you guys might like a ride." Dick stepped aside to let them enter.
Tim eagerly stepped forward, but Jason snatched the back of his collar and pulled him back. He eyed both Dick and the car warily. "You just happened to be in the neighborhood or something?" He challenged. "Didn't think our days sucked nearly enough without your presence?"
Dick's smile never wavered. "Bad, day, huh? The school can be rough." He picked up both of their back packs with ease. "Geez, they really like to pile on the work, don't they? What do you have in here?"
"Catch up." Tim offered, squirming to get out of Jason's hold.
"Ketchup?" Dick chuckled.
"Sure." Tim finally tore free. "Goes well with the tater tots." He opened the side door. "Shot gun! Sweet!"
Jason remained frozen in his spot. "Sorry, I don't hitch a ride with strangers."
Dick shrugged. "Feel free to walk than." He got in the car.
Jason rolled his eyes and got in as well. It beat walking, not that he'd voice it or anything.
"Why did you stop by anyway?" Tim asked, admiring the interior.
"Bruce, Alfred, and I are in investing in your education. I'm just checking in on our investment." Dick winked. "Plus, I've been to this school. I know how tough it can be and what the teachers are like. If either of you need help catching up, I've been told I'm an alright tutor."
"Fat chance." Jason snorted.
"You guys want to head home? Or we could stop by the manor. Alfred probably has some cookies or something and I got a new game for the Xbox." He offered.
Tim looked excited at the prospect, but Jason was eager to check in on his mom.
Jason beat Tim to the answer, giving Dick the address before Tim could eagerly agree to what would probably be yet another extended stay. Jason's face started turning a startling shade of red when they pulled up to the curb and Dick could fully see the cracks in the pavement and how run down the place was. Jason met Dick's eye in the rearview mirror. Jason's chin was raised high despite the blush to his face and his stare was a mix of stubborn pride and a challenge.
Tim seemed crestfallen at the prospect of having to leave Dick's company and having to enter the apartment and confront what was awaiting them. He looked forward to the prospect of yet another boarding school more than having to walk through that door. "Thanks for the ride," he gave Dick a half-hearted smile before opening the door.
Jason grunted something before following him. They were halfway to the stairs before they heard a third door shut. Both turned, Tim with delight and Jason with dread. "I'll walk you to the door."
Once more, Jason interrupted Tim. "We don't need you to walk us to the door." He sneered. "It's not like we're your prom date or something."
Dick shrugged. It made Jason's teeth gnash more each time one of his snide comments simply rolled off the acrobat's back. "Alfred would have my head if he knew I was amiss on common courtesy."
"So don't tell him." Jason snapped.
"Oh, trust me. He knows." Dick shuddered at the thought. "Alfred always knows." Tim and Jason had to shudder as well. Meeting the old man only a couple times was enough to understand.
"What's the harm?" Tim asked, springing up the steps. The newest development seemed to put him in a better mood than when he left the school. Dick followed. Jason didn't answer, but trudged up the steps behind them.
Easy for you to say, he thought. It felt too similar and he shuddered at the memories of years ago, dragging a backpack up the steps, dreading the thought of opening the door. Worrying his lip about whether his mother… He quickly shoved those images aside. His mother was doing better. The apartment was cleaner. At least for the moment, the lights should still be on. The fridge should still be running. They should still have hot water. That, at least, was a momentary guarantee.
"You okay, Jay?" Jason snapped out of his mind to find Dick frowning at him and the kid looking equally concerned.
"Fine." He shoved the two out of the way to unlock and open the door. He walked in, telling Dick over his shoulder, "Guess chivalry isn't dead. Thanks for proving that cliché right. Now that you've done your job, you can go." Waltzing into the kitchen, he ran directly into his mother.
Hands on her hips, she sent him a scathing, chastising look. "Jason Peter Todd." He shrunk back and cringed. Full names were the worst. Especially in front of the kid and company. Tim snickered and Jason shot him a look that matched Catherine's. Dick was just as amused. "That is not how we treat guest."
Jason wanted to argue. Retorts were at the tip of his tongue, but his mother had been so pleased with him this morning and they'd been doing better. He sucked it up and with a sigh, he turned back to Tim and Dick. "My apologies." He welcomed unenthusiastically. "Won't you come in, Dickhead."
"Jason!"
Dick walked in charming as could be. "Why, I'd love to. Thank you for asking." He patted him on the shoulder as he passed. "I almost believed you. I should recommend you for another job. Alfred is looking for a greeter, and clearly its right up your alley."
Jason gritted his teeth as Tim shut the door excitedly introducing his new guest. A quadruple summersault, Jason snorted, yeah right. Catherine was charmed and delighted. He couldn't remember the last time they had company. It wasn't a frequent occurrence with the exception of some of the award-winning guys that she'd have over. Real top-notch guys, Jason thought, rubbing a ghost pain on his shoulder. He wondered where he might put Jack on the list. Loathe as he was to admit it, he wasn't the worst of the bunch... at least not yet and not if Jason could help it.
Catherine played up the part. Beverages, snacks, how delightful Jason and Tim have friends. "Jason never brings his friends over." Can't bring something you don't have, he wants to say but bites his tongue, and she knows why company had been scarce. But with Dick, and even with Tim, she can pretend this is the way it's always been. Food in the fridge with extra to offer and a variety of drink including warm tap water. The sink empty and floors sparkling and the curtains drawn back to let in the sun.
He glances around their small apartment and for the first time is struck by how much it has changed. How much his mother has. All for the better. But there's still this seed of bitterness that is always accompanied by a twinge of guilt. He's jealous that this is the only way Tim and Dick know the apartment, know her. It burns and he balls his fist at this anger, but he quickly pushes it down. Because it's not fair to her and all she accomplished. It's not fair to all they overcome. He doesn't want to be angry with her. He hates it. And he hates himself for it. But for all she can pretend, he cannot... at least not at the moment. The images haunt him. Maybe, he thinks, she can forget and pretend because she wasn't all there, even when she was.
"Jason?" His mother asks.
"What?" He looks over to where they are currently enjoying some store-brand cookies and lemonade. He can't quite meet her eye, ashamed at the thought of ever being mad at her.
"I asked, how was school?"
Horrible, a mess, it sucked, I never want to go back, all honest responses. "Fine," he tells her with a shrug.
"Boys," she huffed with the roll of her eyes. "I get one word from you and noncommittal sounds from this one." She jabs her thumb in Tim's direction. The corner of Jason's mouth twitches.
"Oh, we are the worse," he sighs dramatically, laying a hand on his cheek and shaking his head, "Aren't we?" She smiles and he feels a small victory. It eases the guilt a little. He isn't the easiest son, he knows. He never has been. And she tries, which is more than Jack any day.
The door slams and Tim turns to stone. Catherine tentatively turns. Jason groans, the moment now lost. "Speak of the devil," he drawls. Catherine bats at his shoulder and he shuts his mouth. He owes her that much at the very least. Sometimes, though, he just can't help himself.
Dick doesn't even have time to turn on the charm before Jack bombards him with greetings, ignoring everyone else. "Richard, my boy," he shakes Dick's hand. "How nice to see you! What brings you to my humble abode?" The door is left open. It's a small thing, Jason realizes, but it annoys him.
"Where did you grow up? A Barn?" Jason mutters, skirting around them to remedy the small annoyance.
"Jason," Catherine warns. Not that it mattered since Jack wasn't paying attention to anything, let alone the clear hurt behind Tim's face. Dick seemed to notice it too.
"I just came to drop off Tim and Jason." Dick gestures to the two boys. Nice try, Jason thinks.
"So nice to have you join us," Jack answers distracted, rambling.
"Hey, Timbo," Jason imitates Jack. Sometimes he just can't help it. He's had enough. Even Dick's attempt didn't shift the guy's focus to his son. "How was your day?" Tim's eyes fly to him in confusion. "You know, your first day in a new school?"
"Jason!" Catherine cries.
"Stop it." It's no more than a whisper, but Jason's on a roll.
"Which I clearly remember because I care about you. Which is why I ask."
"Stop it!" Tim yells.
"Timothy Jackson Drake." Jack scolds and Tim cringes.
Jason throws up his arms. "And, now, he notices."
"Go to your room." Jack demands. "Being rude, especially in front of a guest like this, is unacceptable." Tim's mouth hangs open and he stares at his father in disbelief. It's his turn to flush crimson, but there's no amusement on anybody's face. Catherine shifts from foot to foot, on the verge of saying something, but biting her lip. They had company and it was not the best time to get into yet another argument.
"But," Tim begins.
"I said go to your room." Jack stands taller, overshadowing him.
Catherine has an arm around Jason's shoulders, making sure he doesn't move to intervene. Tim's eyes glance to Catherine and Jason, but there's no anger or vengeance or betrayal behind it, just hurt. He spares a glance at Dick, who is clearly very uncomfortable. Finally, he departs.
"I should go," Dick says quietly, standing up from his seat.
"I'm sorry about my son's disrespectful behavior. He and I will have a long chat, I promise." Dick's eyes darted to Jason's. Jason confirms that indeed, that just happened.
"That's alright, Mr. Drake. I'm sure he meant no disrespect." Dick turned to Catherine. "Lovely to meet you. Thank you for the cookies and lemonade. They were delicious. Alfred will be expecting me home soon. And, I'll see you tomorrow Jason." He headed to the door.
"I'll show you out," Jack quickly joined him. "And tell Mr. Wayne, I'm eager to discuss business with him."
"Business?" Jason looked to his mom, but his mother just offered a shrug.
The door slammed shut and Jack rounded on them. "Store-brand cookies?" He raged, shaking the packaging and raining crumbs on the counters and the floor. "You gave the heir to the Wayne fortune, store-brand cookies?"
"That's what you're upset about?" Catherine snapped. It appeared she did about as good a job as Jason when it came to keeping her mouth shut. "The type of cookies I offered him? Did you see your son?"
"Did I see him?" Jack dismissed. "Oh, he was in fine form." He shook his head at the thought.
"That's not what I meant!"
"Then what about Tim?"
"What about Tim?" She shouted. Jason heard his bedroom door shut. "You humiliated him in front of his friend!"
"He humiliated me in front of my collegue's son!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Jason demanded.
Jack ignored him. "And you humiliated me!"
"Hey, back off." Jason got in front of his mother.
"Jason, knock it off." Catherine tried to get him out of the way, but he wouldn't budge.
"So what if she served him store-brand cookies?"
"Jason!"
"You cannot serve the heir to the Wayne fortune store-brand cookies! He's going to go back to Wayne and tell him! Then, we'll be ruined!"
"It's you that ruined it!" Jason stood nose to nose with Jack. "You going to tell me to go to my room, too, for raising my voice?" He challenged. "Kind of hypocritical when you dared raised your voice to my mom!"
"Back off, Jason." Catherine tried to break them apart.
Jack looked to Catherine. "Are you going to let him speak to me that way?"
Catherine hesitated. Both waited her answer with bated breath. She sighed. Her voice was quiet but clear and firm. "Jason, go to your room." It felt like a betrayal. What right did she have, even for as much as she's been trying lately?
Jason scoffed. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." She nodded to his room.
Make me, was at the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't quite say that to her and as much as he didn't want to leave her alone with the guy, the betrayal stung. It was clear whose side she chose. He had to get out before he did something he really regretted. "Screw this," he headed for the door. As he lit a cigarette on his way into the alley the apartment overlooked, he saw Tim crawling out the window with his camera.
