Jason was still stomping down the street, his pixie boots making him uncomfortable that specific night. Bru- Batman had ordered him to get the children out of the warehouse. But Dick Grayson's words still lingered on his mind when he opened the giant metal door and got inside, looking for the kids spending the night.

"We both know you've dragged that kid to this life just to get back at me for leaving, Bruce."

No one had noticed Jason hiding in the cave, hurt and hostility burning in his eyes. He just wanted to tear that stupid mullet off Dick's head like he had seen some women do in the building he and his mom used to live in. Dick scrunched up his nose and met Bruce's eyes with real concern

"You can't even deny it, can you?"

Bruce had punched Dick in the face and when Alfred had run down the stairs to seize the situation Dick was long gone. Jason had waited a few minutes and then he had run to his room, where he could read and forget about what had happened.

And right now he was putting on a show, leading the children out of the warehouse and giving them confidential information about what other buildings they could spend the night in. It may have been Jason exaggerating his Crime Alley accent or just the suit but they actually listened to him. They were almost out when one of the little girls turned around and looked at him with teary eyes, a couple of tears trailing down her dirty face.

"I left my teddy b-bear." She fisted her little hand on his sleeve. And, God, Jason knew he was little for his age, but that hand was really, really tiny. He sighed and closed his eyes. He nodded at her and led her out of the building.

"Take care of her, I'll be right back."

The older girl, who seemed to be in charge, nodded at him with a solemn expression. He had to be fast. Batman had been adamant in that aspect.

He trotted back inside and glanced around. The bear was in one of the corners where they had set some blankets and cartons for the night. Jason grabbed the deteriorated bear and ran toward the entrance, already smiling because he had successfully completed his task.

The little girl squealed when she saw him come out, bear in hand. Jason's chest filled with a warm sensation and started to walk towards her grabby hands. But at that moment, as usual, life stabbed him in the back.

He heard the explosion behind him and was just turning around to assess the situation when he saw that huge metal door flying towards him. Everything went black.

The pounding behind his eyes got worse when he felt hands on his body, looking for bruises and injuries. He heard a little girl crying inconsolably near him and then he started to understand the words directed at him.

"Robin!"

He had never heard Batman use that tone when he had the cowl on. It was wrong, it was too afraid to belong to the caped crusader. Jason must have scrunched up his face or something because suddenly Bruce's hand was cupping his chin gently.

"Jay, Jaylad, can you hear me?"

Jason hissed at the sudden pain on the side of his face and tried to open his eyes to look at him. He could only open his left one. The door must have hit him really hard on the right side. Jason groaned in pain, leaning into Bruce's touch for comfort.

"It's okay, son, we'll get home soon. I promise."

Jason could have sworn Bruce's voice wavered. Maybe he was afraid after all.

He didn't remember driving back home or being tucked into one of the infirmary beds where they had connected him to various devices that controlled his vitals.

"I've never been so scared in my life, Alfred." Bruce said anxiously somewhere in the Batcave.

"I believe that is how one should feel whenever their child gets involved in an explosion, Master Bruce." Alfie might have sounded somehow tense but Jason didn't care at all.

He smiled in his semi-conscious state because Bruce had called him son. And that meant he had helped his Dad, not just Batman. That meant he had a family.

Because that's what fathers did, right? They fed you, they worried when you got hurt. They called you son and lad and Jay.

"Call the school and tell them he's caught a cold."

"Immediately, Sir." There was silence for a couple of seconds and Jason was almost asleep again when Alfred spoke again "The young Master will be most disappointed, we had planned to start reading 'The Great Gatsby' tomorrow." The old man sighed.

"It's okay, Alfred. I'll read to him."

Had Jason not been already half asleep he would have teared up. The wounds and bruises didn't matter now. He had a Dad.

"I won't tolerate such behavior from a teenager."

Waller's icy stare burned holes in his back. He needed nicotine like a baby would a pacifier. He had been smoking more and more these past few months, not having to dread Bruce's biannual checkups.

"You broke our deal." Jason turned around with almost superhuman speed. His hands gripped the back of the chair he was supposed to be sitting on, nearly breaking it. "You knew they'd come. You orchestrated that."

"I didn't plan it," she shrugged one of her shoulders, unimpressed. "But I didn't stop it, either"

"You're telling me this was a coincidence, Mandy?" He hissed. He was seething. He had assumed he wouldn't have to ever worry again about his… the Bats.

"Don't play the victim here, boy." She replied. "You could have used your new charge and get out of there in a blink. But you love drama too much. Walking away wasn't enough for the great Jason Peter Todd. You had to shout at Robin's face for three minutes till you were satisfied." She slammed her palm on the surface of the wooden desk "Because you still seek recognition like a little kid, even if it's just by walking away from them."

Jason kicked the chair, sending it flying across the room and watching it shatter against the right wall. His nostrils flared, his fists clenched, his heartbeat pounded at his throat like a war drum. He felt the Pit hissing at the back of his head, telling him to give into it once again. The sensation circling his nerves like the silk of Death, calling him to his place.

Waller must have seen the flicker of green within his eyes because her gaze sharpened and her head cocked to the side, taking him in.

Jason turned his back on her again and punched his way through her office door out of pettiness and frustration. He made his way through the compound like a man about to start a war, making sure no one dared get in his way. He smelled blood. Jason looked down and discovered it came from his own hands where his nails had dug their way through the flesh, creating angry marks. The red droplets followed him through the corridors.

He was such a mess. He couldn't keep his shit together for a second. Even in the solace of his bedroom, he felt restless and uneasy. Bruce's voice in his head ordering him to sleep didn't help either. On the contrary, he now was set to have no sleep at all.

He was a child. Waller was right. He was a stupid kid who thought he could defy the universe.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He wasn't even twenty yet. He was supposed to be getting wasted at some frat party, not in a government facility hiding away from his father. He should have been able to be a kid. He should… he should have never been a soldier. That wasn't a weight any kid should bear.

That wasn't something a real father would put his son through.

Jason covered his face with trembling hands and tried to breathe steadily. Because that was it, wasn't it? Bruce had never loved him back. Jason had been just a cheap replacement for the real kid Bruce missed. And that was why whenever Jason stepped out from Bruce's idea of what a Robin should be like…

He had been stupid. Jason had always known Dick was the favorite but that street kid had been so eager to please and get affection he'd never considered not being even part of the game. Alfred had been the only one checking on him. Probably just wanted to make sure Bruce wouldn't get sued by social services. That would have been unfortunate.

It hurt. It fucking hurt. So much that Jason felt the need to claw at his chest and take it out, that vicious serpent strangling his heart, the sensation making him want to puke.

He walked through the room and searched fhis drawers for cigarettes, grabbing them and the lighter with familiarity. He looked around the room and decided to go for the window, climbing his way to the rooftop easily.

He sat with his legs dangling off the edge, rapidly lighting the first cigarette and taking the first drag. Jason let the smoke travel down his throat and then out again through his nose, burning its way through his nostrils. The first drag was always otherworldly, seeming to sink him into a momentary trance.

The cigarette was gone much too soon. A second one followed. And a third.

He looked at the designs the smoke drew on the night air, reminding him of a dark city filled with gas and shadows where the silhouettes in the night sky had once meant protection. The tightness on his chest returned with force, almost knocking him on his back against the hard rooftop.

Jason looked ahead where the void faced him, the numbness enveloping him like a second skin. It was okay. He preferred it to the heartache.

He saw his feet stepping into the nothingness, imagining how easy it would be to slip. How many times had he seen the same image, seated on his favorite gargoyle? Back then he had had a purpose. He had been sure Bruce would come and take him home where Alfred would be waiting with a mug filled to the brim with hot chocolate.

What did he have now? He'd traded one prison for another. One colder and stranger, without any British accent or cowls or pixie boots that gave him magic.

He was Jason. He was alone. And he wasn't enough.

"I do hope you aren't considering the jump, my love."

The British accent wasn't the one he had been wishing for, but it wasn't unwelcomed.

"Not after how the world and I myself have worked so hard to keep you amongst the living."

"Talia." Jason snorted. The sudden strangled noise that came out of him making him notice he had been crying. Great.

Jason ran and jumped and swung across the city to his favorite gargoyle.

He shouldn't, he knew he was having a panic attack. He knew he should be somewhere safe trying to calm down. But he couldn't get back to the manor. Not now. Not being like this. Not after what Bruce… what Batman had said.

He wanted a way out.

Maybe he hadn't meant what he said, right? Bruce wasn't the best with words, less when he was frustrated. No, he couldn't have possibly meant that.

Right?

They had been arguing. Again. It wasn't even something huge. Bruce was being unreasonable. Jason could handle a case alone. It was just a drugs case and yeah, okay, the drug was Venom, but Jason knew how to handle those kinds of situations.

But Bruce had brought up a thing that had happened six months ago when Jason had broken some thug's arm after he had tried to shot him. Repeatedly. It was more than justified.

The fight had escalated quickly, both of them getting angrier and nastier by the second and then Bruce had lost it and shouted right in Jason's face.

"Goddammit, Jason. I'm not your father. I don't need teenage rebellion!" Bruce had pinched his nose and tried to steady himself. He hadn't noticed how Jason had paled "I don't know what's gotten into you"

Jason had turned around so he couldn't see his face "Whatever" he had spat through gritted teeth.

He ran.

His heaving chest distracted him a little because he had to focus on not hyperventilating. He needed to calm down or he would pass out. While sitting on a gargoyle.

Fuck. He'd promised Alfred he wouldn't smoke again but right now he would feel so much better with just one drag. He let himself hang in a precarious position around the gargoyle's legs and reached for where the statue met the building façade. He had hidden his last cigarette stash there.

He took one of the cigarettes out and fumbled a little with the lighter, trying a couple of times until it worked. He almost swallowed the smoke of that first drag. It was stronger than he remembered but that might be because he hadn't smoked in years. Or because the cigarettes had been there for three years.

He would not cry.

It was crazy. He had been in the manor for years. He had signed the adoption papers. They had watched movies. Bruce had even managed to go to one of Jason's plays for school.

He couldn't have meant that.

I'm not your father.

Little did Jason know that not long after that night he would be watching Felipe Garzonas fall to his death. And he would be fired from his job. His job. Because that's what he was to Bruce: an employee. A soldier.

When he had discovered his mother was alive he hadn't even looked back because it had been on Bruce's files and if he had been fired, then his boss would surely send him to her anyway.

Because who would put up with a rebellious teenager who couldn't do his job right if his mother was alive? It was the perfect excuse to get rid of him.

Jason just hadn't wanted to give Bruce the satisfaction of doing it himself.

"What are you doing here, T?" Jason cleared his throat, not even bothering to look at her.

"Is a mother not allowed to care for her son?" Talia said pointedly.

"I didn't do anything to Damian if that's what you're worried about."

He somehow managed to feel more miserable. He thought Talia understood he wouldn't do anything like that. Not after the Pit madness.

"Oh, my dear," She sounded amused. "Your brother is not the son for whom I worry."

He frowned and she let a delicate laugh escape her lips. Her elegant but deadly fingers rested on the back of his neck, moving in soothing circles.

"I've taken care of you, I've fed you, I've betrayed my own blood for you and provided for anything you might need in your crusade against your father, my love." She got serious "I can't imagine you would assume I wouldn't claim you as mine, hmm?"

"Maybe you just used me like everyone else." He sounded petty even to himself.

"Why, of course I did, Jason." She flipped her hair to her back "That doesn't mean I love you any less"

The worst thing? He believed her.

"And in regards to your question," He then looked at her, "I keep a close eye on both you and your brother like any mother would. When my men informed me of your… terrible episode that night." Jason tensed. They had seen it and they'd done nothing. "Naturally, I traveled here. But imagine my surprise when I learned that not only you had abandoned your family but also had given yourself willingly to that government viper." She arched a brow.

"I…" He closed his mouth and tried again. "You know he would have found me anywhere else." He toyed with his hands, not looking at her. Jason felt her nails pressing against the tender flesh of his chin. She turned his head in her direction.

"And why, my dearest love," He had fucked up. Yup. She was using her sweet tone. He was a dead man. "Didn't you call me for help?"

"Honestly?" He scratched the back of his neck.

"Yes."

"Because I don't know where you'd stand if it was between me and Bruce." He swallowed when her eyes sharpened.

"I apologize if my feelings have not been clear enough for you, Jason." She folded her hands neatly on her thighs, seating beside him. "While I love your father deeply, I would never ignore how he has failed as a parent to the point of driving his son to consider committing suicide. I saw how he neglected you and estranged you from your family. I kept my distance as both Damian and you asked but I've seen everything." She looked at him and the intensity in her gaze made Jason gasp. "It pains me. Of course, you can't believe I will keep my distance any longer after these last months, my dear."

"So, what? You've come to stay? Here?" He gestured to their surroundings and snorted.

"Were it necessary." She nodded. "But the main reason for my arrival is to give you a choice, Jason. I know you came here out of necessity but if you come with me you wouldn't be alone."

"To the League?" He shook his head. "My ninja days ended a long time ago."

"Of course, you wouldn't be under my father's hand." She looked at her nails, seemingly uninterested "You are the last member of the All-Caste and, should you want it, a life with the privileges of the League but without the blind devotion to my father could be given to you"

"What aren't you telling me, Talia?" He knew her. He knew there was more to this conversation that she was giving away.

"Nothing you need to worry about." She caressed his cheek. "But know that under my watch nothing would ever happen to you. The choice is yours."

She got up and offered him her hand to get up as well. She made a t.t noise, much like her son, stealing his cigarettes and hiding them somewhere in her clothes.

"You will not smoke anymore, Jason." And, okay, that really sounded like a mother would. Her eyes softened momentarily while looking at him, obviously a mess after everything that had happened.

A thought surfaced in his mind.

"You were the one who called them." She raised both eyebrows, waiting for more. "The Titans."

"Oh," She waved her hand dismissing the subject. "Yes, it was one of my men. I couldn't make a real assessment of the situation if I couldn't comprehend your current situation in regards to the relationship with your family."

"You have Damian wired?" He said with incredulity.

"Don't be absurd." She patted his chest "I hacked every electronic device both of you carry" Jason snorted.

"You're just like-" He cut himself midsentence, the weight of the whole situation falling on his shoulders again. She sighed.

"My offer still stands. I will be near, should you need me."

She nodded at him curtly and turned to the cliff, ready to jump. She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"Jason?"

"Yes?"

"Your father is here." And she jumped, leaving a gaping Jason unable to move.

Blood filled his lungs as Jason tried to free Sheila from the ropes. But he knew.

He knew he wouldn't make it out alive, not with his injuries. He knew half of them were lethal but at least he could save his mom, right? It didn't matter that she had betrayed him. He would still save a person even after fucking up so bad. Maybe Bruce would be proud after all?

He moaned trying not to cry because that would stop him from untying the knots. Bruce. He would never see him again. He wouldn't see Alfred. Or Barbara. Or Gordon. Not even stupid Dickface.

He missed his Dad. Even if Bruce didn't consider himself his Dad, he was. He had to be. And Jason… Jason needed him. He wanted Bruce to hug him. He wanted to say he was sorry for running away and letting him down and disappointing him.

He wanted to say to Bruce that he had been the best Dad.

Even if he wasn't his son.

In the end, like Bruce predicted when he caught Jason with a cigarette between his lips, smoke had killed him.

Just not the way they'd thought it would.

Jason gave into the panic. He climbed down to his room hoping he could gather some of his things and get out of there. He could manage to get on a plane and survive for a couple of months wherever it led him. He could get out of the country when the Bats gave up on finding him. He was good like that. For God's sake, he had been hiding for almost a year under Bruce's nose and he had been none the wiser.

Well, he hadn't exactly been looking for him either.

Jason didn't even know why he cared now. It was ridiculous. He should be relieved Jason had committed to the forces of law and order. He wondered if it was possible to be tired of living when you hadn't even reached twenty. And had already died.

He suspected it might be karma for those severed heads in a duffle bag back in the days when he was interested in ruling Gotham's underworld.

Shifting his thoughts to an entirely different duffle bag, he started stuffing it with underwear and guns. A couple of jeans and some shirts. He was wearing his favorite boots and the red hoodie. Jason was just climbing on the bed to take a pack of cigarettes and his flame dagger when he heard something in the corridor. Anyone else might have thought it had been someone stumbling. Jason had spent enough time with Bruce to know that had been a person falling unconscious after a well-aimed blow from the Bat.

"No, no, no, no, no." He moved faster than ever in his short second life "Fuck."

He heard nothing. Then someone broke down his door. Before Batman could glance around the room, Jason was jumping out the window with the filled duffle bag over his shoulder like a fugitive and very emo Santa Claus.

He couldn't even believe people made deals with Waller. Seriously.

He realized much too soon that he hadn't planned anything after jumping to a certain second death. He didn't even have a grapple gun. That was panic right there, ladies and gentlemen. Because that's what you did when your father kicked open the door of your government bedroom. You jumped. Through a window on the seventh floor of the building. Had he not been so furious about his approaching death, Jason would have groaned. Something inside him rebelled and made him latch on one of the numerous windowsills. Which was not a great idea if you weighed 205 lbs, had a bag full of things and you had only one hand available.

"Ahhh! Fuck!" He felt the muscle break. He was sure he had heard it tear. Jason was heating up, and his shoulder could dislocate any minute. The good thing was he was just two stories away from the ground.

"Jason!" Batman barked toward him. Jason couldn't focus on what he was saying. Everything hurt up and down his right arm. He thanked all that could be hailed when he saw cars parked below him.

He inhaled and exhaled two times before he decided to jump again. He could fall from a second floor. It would be okay. Batman may have shouted something. Fuck him. He wouldn't catch him tonight.

Jason rolled across the car's hood and if he howled like a damn loser when his arm hit the surface, well, no one could blame him. He was profusely sweating and his arm likely dislocated by now. He started running when he heard the hiss of a cape cutting the air.

He had to think. He had to plan. He had to stop thinking about chopping off his arm.

There was high security here, nothing he couldn't handle any day of the week but with his the arm like this… he needed to reassess. He needed a vehicle.

No. There were three different controls to get in or out of the compund. What was he thinking, coming at a place like this? He should have realized this was a trap.

Unless he stole the batmobile.

But anyone with access to that program (aka Barbara) could control the vehicle from outer space if they wanted.

"C'mon, Todd, think." He lifted his left hand to wipe the sweat from his face while running, his carotid could have popped out of his neck and he wouldn't had been surprised.

He could hear Batman gaining speed. Jason thought he might be saying something but, since his defeat when he tried to make Bruce kill the Joker, Jason had learned that Batman's words were just a distraction. He couldn't afford to get distracted right now.

He just needed to survive.

He ran as fast as his legs let him, the pain in his right arm letting the survival instincts hit and take control. He should have taken his phone, that way he could have called Waller. Or Talia.

Wait, wasn't Talia there like fifteen minutes ago? Had she left yet? Why hadn't she stayed?

The fever was already affecting his brain. He needed allies.

Or a bunker.

Yeah.

A cozy and silent bunker with air conditioning and Alfred's cookies. And some books. Those were important. Maybe cigarettes. No one would bother him. He could invite Alfred and Talia over to talk and have tea. They both loved tea and questioning Jason's life decisions. Yeah, they would get along. Why wouldn't they? They both talked British.

Jason came back to reality when he saw a silhouette in front of him, just standing on the first control. He let himself feel hope. That could be one of Waller's men. They all knew him They could contact their boss and kick the Bat out. Hopefully. Jason spent the rest of his energy to run in that direction.

And, just when he was a few feet from there, he saw who it was. Bruce had brought the cavalry with him. Cassandra stood firm and observant, her eyes following his every action and five unconscious guards at her feet. She made a funny face when she saw his face and looked past him with accusation blaring in her eyes.

Jason tripped over something and fell, screaming in frustration. Why did they do this to him? Why was Cassandra doing this to him? He punched the ground and regretted it soon when he discovered he had used the right hand. He howled again.

"Hurt." Cassandra spat at Batman while pointing at him.

"He jumped from a seventh floor without any way of stopping the fall." Batman informed, though Jason perceived a tinge of incredulity at being accused of hurting Jason. He barked a laugh at his own thought.

"Sad." Cassandra scrunched up her nose, seeming to try and decipher whatever happened in Jason's head with that hawk-like look. She wouldn't like it. "Afraid." She concluded with worried eyes.

"As I said be-" Batman started.

"No." Cassandra stopped him with a hiss ."Afraid of you."

Everyone fell silent, the tension palpable in the air.

And Jason blacked out.