AN: I'm back! So sorry for taking so long to get this story started. I've been working a lot on my original fiction. I am actually doing something with this story that I did not do for the previous two. I usually have these stories fully written before I post, that's not the case with this one. So... updates may be a little slower than they were with Black and Red and From Yesterday.

Any-hoo, thank you to everyone who reviewed my earlier stories that I may not have gotten a private "thank you" out to. And I hope you enjoy Black and Gold.

Summary: Jason Todd, former Boy Terror, is going on his first extended family vacation overseas with an ulterior motive, to find his birth mother. But when the Joker decides to launch his criminal operation overseas, pleasure becomes Bat Business and the search for Jason's mother becomes part of the case. (Warning: Extreme Violence and Character Death)

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Batman and Young Justice and everything else in that franchise, but I don't. :(.

"And all around these golden beacons I see nothing but black"—Sam Sparro, Black and Gold.

Prologue

Livin' like I do, I don't sit around dreamin' of getting old and fat with lotsa grand-bastards sittin' around me begging to hear stories about my ass-kicking days. I bet Dickie-bird has those kinda dreams. He's soft like that. Bet Tim does, too. The both of them are probably gonna live to a hundred with no shortage of little blue-eyed buggers trailing after them demanding piggy-back rides.

Me… we'll see. I wouldn't bet on it, but ya never know, huh? Maybe I'll get old and be one of those grouchy assholes with a spiked cane ready to beat the brats that dare step on my property. I dunno; I don't see myself as a guy who lives past thirty. I mean, thirty's pretty damn old, right? Not that Bruce is old or anything, but his joints are creaking a bit is all I'm saying.

Shi-i-it. How'd I get so morbid? I don't usually start thinking about death until after I've snuck a beer or two. But graduation parties are depressing as hell when you're not the one graduating. Dickie-bird's flying, leaving high school behind and moving on to better things, while I still got three more years at Gotham North.

Somebody shoot me.

Please?

Chapter 1

"Don't see why we gotta clean this shit up," I grumble. "Way I see it, it was Dickie-bird's party, Dickie-bird's mess."

Tim shoots a look at me as he knocks a trio of paper cups off a fold-out table into the semi-full trash bag he's got. "It's not that big of a deal, Jase."

Not that big 'uh deal. Huh. Trash duty after big brother's blow out while he drops us like bad habits to go to an after party by the lake? I snort and flop down on a patio chair, staring around the garden pavilion. Bruce and Alfie went all out, had the outside decorated like a rave with a live rock band, free henna tattoos, and iPads as door prizes for everyone who came. The only rules were: no alcohol, no drugs, and no one under 21 inside the house unless they were me, Tim, or Dick. Bruce had also rented some fancy port-o-potties, boys and girls editions, to make sure the party stayed out on the lawn from 5:00 pm to 10:00 pm. By 10:15, the music shut down, the food got covered, and Bruce, Alfie, and a few security guards read people the "You ain't gotta go home, but you gotta get the hell up outta here" act.

It shouldna been a surprise that Dick went off with his friends. I mean, it's not like I shoula expected him to hang around with me or anything. It's not like he hung out with me at the party, or before the party.

Worker bees dressed in black muscle-tees and jeans, made to look like bouncers at a night club, hustle around, cleaning up the worst of the party mess. Timmy and I really don't need to be out here, but Alfie and Bruce thought we should pitch in so we wouldn't complete the stereotype of being "Wayne-brats". Dickie-bird's doing enough of that lately. His last month of school has been nothing but parties, driving to Bayville, New York to spend weekends with his motor-mouth cousin, sneaking in and out, and pretending the rest of us don't exist.

Bruce doesn't yell at him, and Alfie just shakes his head. They won't touch him, not the golden brat, not when he's going off to MIT in the fall—full ride by the way, not that he needs it. Let's see, leaving for MIT at 16, reigning National High School Gymnastics champion, graduated with highest honors and was only a few points shy of being his class salutatorian—yeah, that pretty much makes Richard Grayson untouchable.

"I'm done." I rap the fold-up party table with my knuckles as Tim walks by me with his trash bag. "I've done my community service."

Tim smirks at me. "It's not prison, Jase. It's just… high school."

I groan. High school. "Thanks for reminding me." Dickie-bird escapes, I move on to my sophomore year. Wish I was a brain. Dick's so smart his school didn't know what else to do with him, but bump him up grades.

"Is it really so bad?" Tim asks. He sits down across from me. His black hair's spiky with sweat from being outside so long. He puts his elbows on the table and waits for my answer, his blue eyes curious. My stomach twists a bit.

Having a little brother, like real little—he's 12—is weird. It's strange and kinda scary having somebody lookin' up to me. Makes me feel like I gotta be a better person, set an example and shit. I… I don't wanna do bad by him or fail him. I mean, Dickie-bird's leavin', and the kid's only gonna have me here to show him how to be cool.

It's frickin' hilarious how just a few months ago I hated the kid; now I'm keeping track of the bullies after him at his school. Yeah, I dropped by his little private school a time or two to "talk" to some guys who thought it was funny to give Timmy a hard time. Dickie-bird joined me the last time. It'd been fun doing something with him again, like we were a team saving the world.

I miss world-saving. Haven't seen the inside of the Cave in months, but I wonder if that'll last when Dickie's gone for real and Bruce's short a competent partner. Tim's… clumsy. He's getting better, but the public don't mistake him for being Robin anymore, not even when he wears a suit identical to Dick's.

"Jase?" Tim pokes my arm. "Hey, are you okay?"

I shake myself and run both hands over my short hair. The spikiness feels weird. My friend dared me to do it, and like a dumbass I couldn't back down. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine, Timmy. What'd you ask?"

"About high school. It's not really that bad, right?"

I look him up and down. He's scrawny, but starting to gain some height. He's almost as tall as Dickie-bird now, though that ain't saying much. D-bird still gets mistaken for a 13 year old. Oh yeah, he's gonna have fun at college. His nickname'll be "Jailbait".

I sigh. "High school sucks, T, but it ain't so bad if you make a few friends." I wanna tell him to keep his head down, don't start spouting nerdy shit, and stay out of Math Club, but I can't discourage him from being smart. He's another genius like Dick, but he's kinda shy, real insecure; too quick to try to please people. Grade A bully fodder. "Just do you and it'll be over in four years. Hell, it might be over sooner for you. Maybe you can skip grades like Dick."

Tim shakes his head. "My parents…" he trails off and looks away. His face gets kinda pale and he blinks fast. The kid really doesn't cry all that much for his parents, not anymore anyway. Claims he was never that close to them… but hell, they'd been killed last year. Nobody expects him not to cry.

Tim clears his throat. "My parents never wanted me to skip grades. They always turned the idea down. I think I…" he swallows.

"You wanna do something they'd like?" I offer. I shrug. "It's up to you, Tim. Do what you want. If it was me, I'd jump as many grades as I could."

Tim frowns at me. It breaks my heart how worried he looks; it makes me wish I could be happy all the time and hug people like I'll never see them again.

"Has Bruce… said anything else about…?"

I look heavenward as cement cakes in my lungs and breathing is just hard. "No." A little while ago, Dick found my real mom, well three ladies who could be. They're alive and out there. I wanna go to them, ask them some questions; figure out which one gave me up and why. I mean, I grew up thinking a crack whore who loved her needle more than me was my mom, and now I know she wasn't. One of those other ladies had me, and who knows, maybe that lady'll say I got kidnapped or tell me something that'll make it okay that she ditched me.

It's like everybody else around here, even though their moms are dead and all, can say their moms loved them, if not a lot, at least a little bit. Dick's mom loved him like crazy, Bruce's did, Tim's mom made sure he had everything he needed to be okay. I got none of that, and it hurts.

"Maybe he's still thinking about it," Tim says. "You know he doesn't like to jump into things that have to do with you or Dick."

"Or you," I add for him. Tim's still learning that once Bruce brands you as one of his boys, he's there for you. No matter how shitty or crazy you get, he's got you. I should know. I'm a gold medal worthy screw-up. I killed two guys—one on accident 'cause I'm a dumb shit, and one on purpose 'cause he was the sonuva bitch who shot Dickie-bird in the chest when he shoulda shot me. I start fights for the hell of it. I cuss like an inmate, I sneak cigarettes—and before Bruce, I stole shit. I've got a juvie record.

"No." Tim shakes his head. "It's different for you two. You're…" he lowers his voice, "you're the most awesome team there ever was. I can't—I'll never be a part of that, but…"

I groan. Timmy's hero worship is annoying, even more so because his favorite hero hands down is Dickie-bird. Timmy had actually seen Dickie-bird during his circus days and had a poster of the Flying Graysons on his bedroom wall at his old place. Wish I'd been able to see a show, but there hadn't been any money or time for stuff that normal little kids enjoyed back then for me.

I reach out and grip Timmy's wrist. "Hey, wanna go do something?"

"Huh?" Tim blinks, seeming lost. I love changing the subject on him like this. He doesn't know me like Dick, and sometimes he can't keep up. Dickie'd be on me like white on rice. You're changing the subject, Jay-bird!

"I didn't eat much," I say. Something about a bunch of high society creeps hanging out at the house wrecks my appetite. "Whaddaya say we ask Alfie if we can go get pizza at that place, huh?"

A bright smile lights Timmy's face up like Christmas. Fat Paulie's Pizza, the first place we bonded, stays open late. "You think he'll let us?"

I let go of Tim's wrist, looking back up at the stars. "I think if we guilt him just right, he might he even just drop us off and come back later."

Tim laughs and stands up, tying off his trash bag. "Okay! Let's go ask. I'm not that hungry, but… you know." He looks at the ground and digs his toe into the concrete and I snort.

"You're such a dork." I get up to grab him in a headlock, then I noogie him for all he's worth. He squirms and tries to throw me off, but let's face it. Tim can't break my grip. I let him go. "Hey, deal with my trash bag too. I'll go ask."

"H—hey!" Tim shouts after me as I walk toward the house leaving him with the trash bags.

Hey, little brothers gotta be good for something.

Bruce and Alfie are sitting at the kitchen table; Alfie's sipping tea while Bruce talks, the conversation ends when I come into the room. Both men look at me, and I frown at their expressions. Alfie's eyes glisten like a proud grandpa, and Bruce is grinning. Must be talking about Dickie-bird.

"Jason, good," Bruce says. "Sit down. I want to talk to you."

I blink. Oookay. "What's going on?" I run through everything I've done in the past week. I got a few A's and a couple 'uh B's on my final report card. I let Bruce sign me up for teen leadership camp without complaining too much. Nothing late night talk and grin with Alfie about worthy.

"When's the last time we took a family vacation?" Bruce asks still grinning, blue eyes sparkling.

This a trick question? "Like a vacay where we weren't staking somebody out?" I ask. "Um… never?" We did some day trip kinda stuff a few years ago and one time we went on a camping weekend, but the Bat signal can be seen a long ways off.

"Exactly," Bruce says. "We've never gone away together. I think that now's a great time, and…" He shares a look with Alfie. "…we're going abroad. A few countries were suggested to me by somebody that I thought you might be truly interested in visiting."

My heart pounds and my breathing speeds up. "Wha—huh?" Countries I'd be interested in visiting? Is he—could he be—"Bruce? Are you saying…?"

"Dick and I have been working together," Bruce says. "We've put together the perfect family vacation that will be rewarding to both you and him for doing so well this year."

My body's electric, I wanna jump up and down and yell and stomp. "Bruce, are we gonna find my mom?"

Bruce's smile dims a bit and he reaches out and puts his big hand over mine. "We're going to investigate and talk to the women, but Jason… there's no guarantee that any of them will tell you anything you want to hear."

"But still… still I'll know." My cheeks hurt I'm grinning so hard. I laugh and look to Alfie who's smiling at me. Friggin' Dickie-bird-like joy bubbles up in me. I wanna hug people just cuz I can. I hop up and run to Bruce, hugging him hard. He ruffles my hair and pats my back.

"Thank you," I say over and over. I didn't know… I didn't know how much it'd mean. I thought I did, but… God.

I'm gonna find my mom, my real mom.

I pull away from Bruce, still grinning. "When do we leave?"

"Two weeks," Bruce says. "That should be enough time to get our affairs in order. Unless you have something else you need to…"

"No." I shake my head. "Nothing going on at all. We could leave tomorrow."

"That's what I thought," Bruce says. He stands up and checks his watch. "I'm going out tonight. Could you get Tim for me?"

Jealousy bites me in the ass, but not as hard as it used to. "Actually Bruce, I was uh… coming in here to ask you guys something."

"What is it?" Bruce frowns at me.

"Tim and I want to go to Fat Paulie's tonight," I ask. "Can he get the night off?"

"Tonight?" Alfie looks at the clock on the wall. I can see the big fat 'no' in his eyes, but then something changes. "You didn't eat much at the party, Master Jason. You must be hungry."

I snort out a laugh, and nod. Alfie notices everything.

"Well, I suppose…" Alfie looks to Bruce who sighs but shrugs.

"That's fine," Bruce says. "How about…" He strokes his chin. "How about I take you and we all go."

"Really?" I stare. Okay, so Bruce has kinda been on a family togetherness kick, but a vacay and a pizza outing instead of Batman? Seriously? I think I need to check the news, make sure the polar ice caps ain't melting or anything.

"That sounds wonderful, Master Bruce!" Alfie says. "What an excellent way to start the summer. The only thing missing will be Master Dick."

"Yeah," I say, good mood deflating a bit. "Guess we gotta get used to that, though, with him moving out and all soon." That sobers the room. Doors open and close all around the manor; the clean-up crew still doing their jobs.

"But we won't start tonight," Bruce says. He pulls his cell phone from his back pocket.

"What are you doin'?" I ask.

"Telling Dick if he wants a car for college, he'd better join us for pizza in an hour," Bruce says. His fingers dance over the face of his phone. He slips it back into his pocket with a smirk and I laugh.

"You're awesome, Bruce," I say.

"Mmmhmm…" Bruce raises a brow. "By the way, are you and Tim done helping with clean-up outside?"

My mouth opens. "Ah…"

"No worries." Bruce claps a hand on my shoulder. "I told the crew to leave a few tables undone just for you. You can get them in the morning. Go get Tim, now."

"Wha…?"

Bruce tosses his head back and laughs, leaving the kitchen. "We'll leave in 15 minutes," he calls back.

I look to Alfie who's sipping tea again and looking quite content.

Well… fuck.

AN: So, what's the verdict? Like it? Hate it? Don't care about it either way? Well, anyway you like it, let me know. Please review!