SPOILERS AHEAD SO DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN 3x05 Lazarus THIS IS YOUR WARNING.
Summary (didn't want to put the full summary on the main page): Bruce takes away Jason's lifeline and it's the final straw. Set during the crime alley scene in 3x05.
I said I was gonna wait for more of season 3 but my god 3x05 broke me in so many ways. So naturally, here I am to delve into Jason's mind some more. I already had a different fic on the go for post-season 2 finale which might appear at some point but this kind of happened without me meaning it to, so here we are.
Warnings for canon-typical swears from Jason, suicidal ideation, lots of self-loathing, references to past violence, trauma, and mentions of drug use.
The title is from the song Trauma by NF.
Disclaimer: I don't own Titans. Some dialogue has been borrowed from 3x05 for context, I don't own it.
GRAB MY HAND I'M DROWNING
~ a Titans fic by singmentothesun ~
"I don't want you to be Robin."
The words left Bruce's mouth with a harsh finality, hanging heavy in the air like black smoke, and Jason's breath hitched like he'd start choking on it if he moved any closer.
Once he loses faith in somebody, he takes it all away.
Fuck.
He felt his legs shake and he swayed where he stood. Jason had fucked up. Again.
Bruce had promised he could keep his position as Robin if Jason agreed to his terms. And he had. Jason was doing everything to try and get better. Bruce was supposed to be giving him a chance, but he'd barely started, barely had time to get his footing with therapy, and now what little stability he'd found was just getting ripped away.
Jason had fucked it up. Not tried hard enough. Once again, Jason Todd was nothing.
Now Bruce had lost faith in him.
"You talked to Leslie." It was bitter on his tongue.
Bruce denied it and Jason shook his head. He should have known. Leslie had gone behind his back and told Bruce that he wasn't fit to be Robin ever again, despite everything they were working through. He'd trusted her with his secrets. She'd said he could choose. That Jason could choose. Not Bruce.
It had all meant shit.
Well, fuck her.
He lashed out. "Bullshit. What did she tell you? That I'm a fucking mental case?"
He was too fucked up, too weak, to handle the cape. That's what they both thought. Bruce and Leslie. Jason had trusted them both. It was the same fucking story and Jason was once again paying the price. You trust people and you get hurt.
It was all his fucking fault again.
He was supposed to be strong as Robin, not having fucking nightmares and flashbacks. He wasn't supposed to be scared. Bruce couldn't know he was scared. But Leslie had told him, and now he knew. Bruce knew he was still falling, that he was still trapped with Deathstroke, that he died in his dreams.
He was never supposed to know.
Bruce kept on talking, defending his decision, saying that taking Robin away had nothing to do with Jason's mental state. Yet he'd brought him here, to the same fucking place his parents died, the same place that inspired the Batman mantle, only to fucking tell him he would never be Robin again.
It was like he'd been stabbed in the chest and the blade twisted, increasing the pain tenfold just to make him suffer more. It made him remember Deathstroke again, and the blade twisting in his thigh, and he winced, blinking away the images.
"I did exactly what you asked me to do! I went to Leslie. I talked to her. She's helping me out."
Leslie had listened to him, understood him, which was more than Dick and the Titans had ever done. Jason was already finding the flashbacks were lessening and his dreams were getting better. Rose had joked back in San Francisco that he needed a super shrink to deal with his problems. Leslie hadn't been a far cry from that, and it fucking sucked that now she was just as bad as the rest of them.
My life isn't shit without Robin. I'm nothing without Robin.
"Please don't take this away from me," he begged, trying so hard to keep his emotions in check, the tears threatening to spill over as he stood there and watched as Bruce looked at him in his usual stoic manner.
"You don't need to wear a costume to be my son."
But he does. He's Robin. Bruce is Batman and Jason is Robin, that's how it works. Who the fuck is Jason if he's not Robin? He's not worth shit to anyone, least of all Bruce. His adoptive father can really stand there and say he's still his son without Robin? Bruce had only taken him in in the first place because he needed a new Robin after Dick left. And now he's going to take it away?
"You think I'm weak. You always thought I was weak. You never did this to Dick."
Bruce responded that he'd learned from his mistakes. Jason isn't good enough for Robin. He never was. Bruce regrets everything. Jason is just a fucking screw up and now Bruce is punishing him.
"So I'm a fucking mistake now?" His anger exploded, crumbling everything to dust on its way out, clawing on his insides to leave him raw and bleeding. He'd tried so fucking hard, time and time again to prove himself, and Jason felt the spike of jealousy spit out. "You gave Dick everything! And no matter what he does, you keep on giving him more and more!"
He'd never been enough for Bruce. He may have been Dick's replacement, but he was never going to live up to his legacy. All the stories Bruce told him about Dick, meant to inspire and rally him, a lost street rat fresh from the worst parts of Gotham, were just there to show him exactly what he would never be. An impossible standard.
Dick was a star performer. The first, the original, the most fearless, now leader of the Titans. He'd grown up and grown out of Robin, into Nightwing, the brand-new hero of San Francisco.
Jason had gotten caught stealing the Batmobile's hubcaps. A petty thief, living on the streets, sleeping in the high school rafters. The replacement, the coward, the reckless, sent to the Titans to be trained but never utilized. He'd only caused trouble, and now had a side effect of post-traumatic stress for his futile efforts.
He'd even tried to kill himself. And he still wasn't sure Bruce knew about that. That was something at least.
Bruce had given him a chance with Leslie, yet another chance to prove himself, and he'd blown it. Just like with Rose. You open up and let someone in and all they do is fucking stab you in the back. Take advantage of your weakness.
Dick made mistakes. Jason's time with the Titans had shown him that. And yet Bruce didn't punish him. He'd absolved Dick's prison sentence for fuck's sake. And that was for the very thing he'd once berated Jason for - beating up a cop.
Jason was never going to compare. Bruce was taking away Robin and only allowing him to stay as his son on pure pity and public image. If it'd been Dick, Bruce wouldn't even have to hang the mantle over his head to make him act. Dick would just do what Bruce said and Bruce would be there for him. No problem.
"Why don't you do that with me, huh? What's so bad about me?" His voice broke as he yelled, the pain like needles in his chest.
He knew exactly what was bad about him though. Of course he fucking knew, he'd always known. He just wanted Bruce to prove him wrong. Just this once.
Bruce tried. He said it's not Jason's fault.
But it is. It always is.
No matter how hard he tries he's never fucking good enough, never worth anything to anybody. His parents didn't bother with him. A smack-addicted mother and a criminal father who got himself killed. His uncle overdosing. Fucking juvie. People around him died.
He was poison.
He wasn't even good enough for the fucking Titans. Somewhere he should have been welcomed because he was Robin. And look at them now, making a fucking name for themselves on the west coast like he never existed. They would have been this great much earlier if it hadn't been for his fuck up, that much was clear.
Well, fuck them. Fuck San Francisco.
He'd returned to Gotham for a new start. What a fucking mistake that had been. If it wasn't for Molly he'd be completely alone and he'd even pushed her away when he'd needed her most. She couldn't see he was weak because then she'd drop him like a stone.
Molly likes Jason because Jason's a real person.
No. Molly likes Jason because Molly doesn't know the real Jason. He was no better than the scum like Hawkins they were trying to put down.
He'd failed everyone now, even Bruce. It was all his fault.
And yet, Jason hangs on to hope that Bruce hasn't lost complete faith, that there's still one last chance left for him. He tries one more time.
"Please don't give up on me, Bruce."
It's a desperate plea. Jason is on the edge, and he hates it. If they stand here any longer, he's going to break. He doesn't want Bruce to see that because that's not going to help him.
"I never will," Bruce promised and for one shining, glorious moment Jason thinks they've reached an understanding. "But I've made my choice."
Jason feels the last pieces holding him together shatter, scattering into a million pieces at Bruce's feet. It happens in complete silence and yet Jason's ears are ringing.
He's no longer Robin.
He's just Jason Todd.
Bruce then asked if he wanted to accompany him to London because of course he drops a fucking bombshell and leaves Jason behind to clean up the debris. That's how much he's worth now.
Well, no, of course he doesn't want to fucking go. He's not Batman's partner anymore. He certainly doesn't want to pretend to be Bruce Wayne's happy ward when he's not fucking wanted.
He was used to that though. Mom, Dad, Uncle Ray. Foster parents, teachers, and now Bruce.
What the fuck is he supposed to do now if he's not Robin?
Flashes of the ledge of Titans Tower play across his eyes and he mentally shakes them away. No, he was not going to give up this time. He was not going to give in to the fear.
He'd make Bruce see that.
"You're wrong about me. I'll prove it."
It comes out as a threat, and that's when Jason feels the tears begin to fall. It was time to get out of there. Bruce tried to call after him, but he walked away in the opposite direction, echoing his last words. He didn't want to get back into the same car as Bruce.
He needed some air. He certainly didn't want to head back to the Manor for the rest of the day. As for same time next week, well, it didn't fucking matter anymore.
Dr. Leslie Thompkins was a liar.