Sometimes, Jason would reflect on his life. Where it was, where it had been, and where it was going. Honestly, the results were always underwhelming.
He would think about the kind of life he had had growing up. Living on the streets. Living with his mom…
As a kid, he had been worried about her. He had loved her, he supposed, wanted her to be happy. Wanted her to be able to turn her life around… both their lives around. With the right amount of determination and a little bit of hard work, he reflected, she probably could have.
Instead, she chose to stay home and enjoy her happy pills. Jason used to wonder what was so great about them, why she seemed to rely on them.
Why it felt like she loved them more than…
But then, he reasoned, it couldn't have been entirely her fault. Life had thrown her one too many curveballs. He didn't even know the whole story, not to this day.
That asshole Robbie hadn't helped either of them at all. Jason would be sent to the store to get some groceries, maybe some bread, a bottle of water, maybe. And, when he got home, that idiot would stumble out of their apartment, high or drunk, he could never tell. Probably neither, considering that, now that he was grown up, he knew that some people could just be dicks.
Speaking of…
Jason's mind flashed to when his mother died of an OD. He had run out of the apartment, not bothering to look back. He remembered how sad he had felt, how horribly lost he was. How quickly he had replaced that sadness with anger.
How could she do that to him? Didn't she know that he relied on her? Depended on her? Didn't she care about him at all?!
What good fortune to stumble into the Batmobile not too long after. He had eyed the tires for only a second before deciding on what he was going to do. Those would sell for a lot of money, he thought. He would be able to afford food for a year!
Of course, the supply would probably only have lasted him a month, maybe two. Who would believe that a kid stole the hubcaps from the Batmobile? The actual, for real, Batmobile?
And then, the man himself showed up, there to ruin his life, even going so far as to trick him into believing that he actually cared-
Well… maybe he did. Jason would smile when he reminded himself that, in the way that only he could, Bruce had loved him. He never showed it. He would probably deny it if accused. But when it came down to it, noticing the little things, it was quite clear that he was…
But it really relied on Dick. He was the one who had openly treated Jason with any sympathy or kindness in any way. And, he was loathe to admit it, but it was an amazing feeling. With Dick, you never felt like he was pretending, like he wanted something from you. It was like he looked at you and saw a younger sibling, someone he could care for and guide and support when they needed it. Which, Jason would never admit aloud, was what he needed.
But then he died. And that was the end.
Well… it was supposed to be. Whatever had gone down when he was six feet under, it didn't matter. Bruce had gotten a new Robin… replaced him…
It wasn't all bad, he supposed. After a while, the little tyke grew on him. Tim was an alright person. He was a good Robin. A good kid.
What really made Jason stop and take a closer look at him was when he noticed the kid's eating habits.
Jason remembered that it was during a mission. Tim had snuck off to prove to Batman that he could handle a situation on his own. He just so happened to get involved in the same murder and drug case that Jason was working.
Their bitter treatment of each other had led to the two of them being captured. Jason was extremely annoyed at first but decided that he wasn't going to let a child, which Tim was, die. Whenever their captors came by and gave them meager scraps of food, Jason would split it in half to share.
Tim always gave his half back.
At first, Jason was angry enough to take it back. Tim didn't want to eat? Fine. He could starve, for all he cared.
But after a while, it became worrisome. It had been three whole days, and not even a bite. Jason decided to try harder to get the boy to eat, but he still refused.
A week. Still nothing. And now Jason was getting concerned.
A week and a half, and Jason had met his match. He grabbed Tim by the shoulder, twisted him around, and shoved some food in his mouth before the young boy could protest. He struggled to get out of Jason's grip, but he refused to let go, to uncover Tim's mouth, until he swallowed the bite.
Tim did so reluctantly, but Jason was satisfied that he at least had eaten something. He finally let go of Tim, who was panting heavily. Jason didn't care about that.
Later that same day, Tim ate his share with no resistance.
Jason decided to question him. And he didn't like the answer.
They had bonded in there, Jason reflected. He realized that, had it not been for him shoving the food in Tim's mouth, the boy wouldn't have taken up his new eating habit. It was still a sad one, no doubt. But it was better than it had been, and that was always a win.
And then they had struck up a conversation. Jason wasn't sure how it had started, but he remembered it well. Being Robin was tough, they agreed, but it was tougher in regard to their predecessor. For Jason, he had just come after the original. He was the knockoff, the copycat…
The replacement…
For Tim, Jason realized, it was equally as hard. Tim wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove that he could take care of himself, he would be alright. That the Joker wouldn't be able to grab him like he did Jason. That Bruce was just being overprotective.
Because, unfortunately for him, he came after the Robin that had died. And, in its own way, that was tougher than coming after the original.
Then, almost as though it were all planned out, in came Bruce and Dick, fawning over the two of them, making sure they were alright. It was the first time Jason had allowed himself to be taken care of since… well, ever, really.
After his mother's death, Jason decided that he himself would be the only person who looked out for him. Even when Bruce came along, even regarding Dick with his shining eyes and warm smile…
Jason wanted to live alone from them, though. Years had gone by… nothing much changed, except for the fact that he would occasionally work with the others. Then, the Demon child came along, and everything spiraled downward yet again.
Bruce, being Bruce, accepted the child with no hesitation. Dick, being the person he was, treated him as a brother the second he laid eyes on him. Jason and Tim had agreed that they wouldn't be so trusting. The kid was raised by the League of Assassins. How did they know he wasn't a spy?
The two caught wind that Robin had helped Batman and Nightwing save the day. That he had saved their lives. Jason decided he couldn't be the worst thing on the planet, keeping Dick and Bruce alive. Tim was still unsure, but he was willing to live with the kid.
Jason began to wonder what the future would bring. Would he still be on good terms with the others? Would someone finally find out how to kill the Bat? Would Bruce buy him the new car that Jason had asked for? He had no clue.
And then an unwelcome, not-so-new thought crept into his mind.
Would he ever feel whole?
He had little moments of doubt, much like this one. He would be there, lying down, reflecting on his life. He would go over every little detail, think everything through, wondering how his life had added up to this moment. And then this question would slap him in the face, coming out of nowhere, and leaving him stranded.
Was his overanalysis just his way of tricking himself into thinking that the others actually cared for him? Was he grasping at something that wasn't really there?
He hated these moments. They left the taste of bile in his mouth, twisted his stomach into knots, and decided they wouldn't let him go. They weren't so bad at first. They were rather tolerable, actually, and usually solved with a good night's sleep. Ever since moving back into the manor with the others, these moments had gotten worse.
Did Bruce regret letting him back in? Did Dick wish he would leave, go back out onto the streets and just disappear? Tim was a smart kid… did he just play him to gain an ally? Damian… well, the kid already hated him. There wasn't much to worry about there. But was he telling the others terrible things about him, making his other worries more and more palpable?
And the more Jason tried to convince himself that he was being ridiculous, the worse the thoughts got. They got louder and louder, almost drowning everything else out. It threatened to spill forth from him like water bursting through a dam, until everything that he had worked to make himself into – a hard worker, a protector of Gotham – fell away, useless.
It was then that he would curl into himself and cover his ears, hoping to ignore the thoughts, but they always lingered. He couldn't get rid of them. He would never be able to.
Jason was lying there, feeling the doubts grow louder, when there was a knock at the door. It startled them away from his mind, at least for now.
Without waiting for an answer, the door opened, and Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian entered the room. Jason felt himself sit up, but he didn't remember giving his body the order to do so.
There was silence. Nobody said anything. Jason could feel the doubts start to push at him again, asking him over and over why he was still there. They reminded him that none of them cared, that they wanted him gone and were finally there to tell it to his face. Because why should they want him? What did he contribute? He wasn't even supposed to be alive.
He felt the first tear fall. Then the second. And he couldn't do anything to stop them. They fell, more and more, steadier and harder than he would have liked.
And it was in front of the others, too. That only made it worse. He was too weak to stop himself from behaving this way in front of them. Even more reason to cast him out. If he couldn't hold back a couple of tears, how could he be expected to hold back any enemies that may be attacking?
He squeezed his eyes shut and felt the doubts come closer. They were almost on top of him now. Almost of their own volition, his arms came up to cover his ears, eventually covering his head, as if he were protecting himself from the blows that they were about to deal him.
Suddenly, he was a child again, sitting in the hallway by himself, waiting for the drunken idiot to come out and throw him against the wall when he demanded to know that his mother was alright. He felt the pressure of the wait, the tension… it squeezed down on him, ready to suffocate him, to kill him once again.
His eyes shot open when he felt something warm wrap around his hands. He looked over to see that Bruce had come to sit beside him. His hands were in the older man's. His blue eyes were alight with concern, shining with his own tears.
Without any words, Jason shot forward and wrapped his arms around Bruce. The doubts had quieted down when he saw the older man. And, when Bruce wrapped his arms around him as well, they almost dispersed completely.
He felt another pair of arms wrap around them. And another. And then another, much smaller pair of arms latched onto his stomach.
And suddenly, the doubts ran away, almost scared of the interaction happening between all the boys.
In the future, Jason didn't remember most of what had happened. But the memory of the hug would always bring a smile to his face. It was a great weapon for the doubts, whenever they came back.
He looked out over the streets of Gotham, glancing down at his brothers and his dad. Another smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Dick had Damian and Tim in headlocks, but they were laughing. Bruce was biting his lip, probably to stop himself from laughing along, too.
Sometimes, it was good to reflect on the past.