Chapter Text
Despite having more or less turned over a new leaf since coming back from the dead (and all of the murdering and generally angsty family reunions that followed shortly thereafter) and being welcomed back into the "batfam", Jason still has his secrets. His relationship with Roy, for one. Well, it's not a secret per se, but neither of them are advertising it. His co-parenting of Lian is another secret, but again, they aren't actively hiding it. Not his fault if B's detective skills haven't sussed out that Jason is a family man now.
But no, those aren't really the secrets he's talking about. He means something more along the lines of what he's doing right now and has been doing since he settled down with all of his crime lord dramatics. On slow crime days or days where Jason simply feels like a change in scenery, he goes to some of the local women and children shelters scattered throughout Crime Alley. Sometimes he goes in civvies to help out in the kitchen or with cleaning and organizing donations. But usually, he shows up as the Red Hood; because of that, all the women and children shelters in Crime Alley are marked under his protection. Since he started coming around, the amount of vandalism and destruction of property has dropped, and violence surrounding those immediate areas has plummeted. The scum of Gotham might not be the brightest bunch, but they know better than to fuck with the Red Hood, especially on his home turf.
Normally he would be fine with the others knowing about his vigilant watch over the shelters, but there are certain aspects of his time spent at these shelters that he would rather Dick and B never catch wind of.
Take now, for instance. The volunteer staff at St. Margaret's Shelter for Women and Children are spread thin and needed somebody to watch the daycare. Knowing he isn't a threat to anyone there, the women in charge had no issue roping him into babysitting duty. So here he is, decked out head to toe in his Red Hood gear, helmet, jacket, steel-toed boots and all, covered in glitter glue and drool.
Children of varying ages are climbing him like a jungle gym. He has the twin six-year-olds Noah and Matilda wrapped around each leg, using his boots like seats as he takes exaggerated steps around the room. Hanging from his right arm are two other kids, three-year-old Mikey and two-year-old Holly, and hanging from his hand at the end is twenty-month-old Angie. Ten-year-old George has his arms wrapped around Jason's middle, attempting to take the large man down and failing in such an endearing way that Jason has to fight back the urge to ruffle his hair. The only thing stopping him is the bundle in his left arm, cradled carefully against his leather-clad chest.
Black hair and blue eyes, Jason can't help but think about Dick and - loathe though he is to admit it - Tim, and even himself before the pit took away his dark blue eyes and replaced them with the teal he has now. Jason is familiar with all of the kids here, having frequented this shelter most out of the rest in Crime Alley. This child, however, is new.
Twelve-year-old Samantha had excitedly introduced the baby as 'Jackie’, whose father is visiting the shelter to get together a list of much-needed supplies and repairs that need to be tended to.
"He's rich," she said giddily, sitting at one of the tables with a book in her hand. She and Jason like to talk about poetry, when the younger kids give him a second to breathe. Jason is suspicious of the man she mentions. Not many rich people come into Crime Alley with good intentions, after all. "And baby Jackie is so cute!" Well, at the very least, she was right about that. Shady rich guy aside, he makes a cute kid.
Jason had been dragged onto the floor by the younger kids when he first arrived, and Jackie had been quick to crawl into his lap, shoot him a smile that consisted of precisely four perfectly spaced baby teeth, and begin slapping at Jason's leather-clad arms, giving those whole body, straight from the gut baby laughs at the noise. Now, the baby is content in Jason's arms, blinking sluggishly around the room with his head resting against Jason's shoulder. He doesn't seem phased by the yelling children or Jason's movements as he lumbers through the room. Honestly, this kid is probably the most chill baby Jason has ever met, and Lian was pretty docile as a toddler, so that's saying something.
He would say not quite a year if he had to guess an age. Jackie can't talk yet, and can only take a few stumbling steps, but his eyes are bright with intelligence, taking in the world around him eagerly. So yeah, if Jason had to say an age, he would throw out maybe… ten months old. Give or take a week or two.
"And this is our daycare, but you stopped by here earlier with Cynthia, right?" Jason turns his head at the sound of the voice belonging to the head of the shelter, Amber. Amber is a headstrong woman with thick, steel-colored hair that she always wears in a tight ponytail that she tucks into a hat (she knows well how dangerous it can be to have long, tied-up hair in Crime Alley, so Jason thinks it's smart of her to tuck it out of sight). She's muscular, despite being on the wrong side of middle-aged, and her glare is enough to intimidate Jason of all people. Suffice it to say, he is a very big fan.
"Hi Miss Amber, hi Mr. Tim!" Samantha calls out, waving from her seat.
Hearing Samantha call out to a second person, he tears his gaze away from Amber to the man accompanying her. When Samantha said Jackie's father was some rich guy coming here to help with supplies and repairs, Jason had been expecting some sleazy politician type or shady businessman. Pictured a tall but out-of-shape man, greasy hair slicked back and pulled over to cover the thinning of his scalp. He wasn't expecting a teenager.
He certainly wasn't expecting to know the teenager.
Jason watches as Tim - Timothy fucking Drake-Wayne, Bruce's most pathetic charity case and Jason's least favorite "sibling" (and he is so ignoring that annoying voice in the back of his head that sounds too much like Dick that says he's just overcompensating due to the guilt he still feels over trying to murder the kid twice) - gives Samantha a pleasant smile and a little wave. The smile is one Jason knows well, not only from some of the media coverage he's seen on the kid, but from living with B for years and becoming well-versed in Bruce's CEO persona. That fake, politicians smile. He hates it, hates the kid, the Replacement, can feel green creep into the edges of his vision, and he gets a sick satisfaction when he sees the way the third Robin's eyes widen at the sight of the Red Hood holding his baby.
The green recedes quickly as that thought registers. Is this baby really--? No, surely there's some mistake; the Replacement can't possibly be a-- he can't actually have a-- … can he? Jason is brought out of his musings when the children climbing on top of him begin to get off. On autopilot, he helps lower the smaller ones onto the floor and watches them run off to play with something else in the room. He doesn't hear what she says, but he sees Amber give Ti-- the Replacement a rough pat on his shoulder, gesturing towards Jason and the nearly sleeping baby in his arms. Amber walks away, claiming to have other business to take care of.
"I'm sure you can find your way out, Tim. And if not, Hood here knows this place like the back of his hand. I'm sure he can help you find the exit." With that, she waves at the two and leaves the room. Jason can't be sure, his mind still trying to wrap around what the fuck is happening, but he doesn't think the teenager has spoken yet. His eyes are still wide, but only slightly, his panic imperceptible to practically anyone. But Jason isn't just anyone, he had the same training the Replacement did, he knows how to spot the signs of concealed and carefully cultivated panic and terror.
Shifting the baby slightly in his arm, Jason adjusts his stance, and it must look like he's about to move, maybe run for an exit with the babe still in his hold, so Tim takes a frantic, panicked step forward, one hand half reaching out and his mouth opening to croak out a weak but desperate sounding "Hood."
"Replacement," Jason responds out of habit. He cringes internally at the cold, detached tone he used, but too little too late, right? No taking his words back now. Besides, the voice modulator hides his tone at least a little bit. Actually, it might make it worse…
He sees the teen open his mouth again, but interrupts before anything can come out. "I can already tell this ain't a conversation we wanna have in the middle of a daycare," he does a pointed glance around the room. "Follow me," he says, voice gruff and commanding. Tim can do little else but comply, looking perfectly composed to the untrained eye, but Jason can see the urgency in his steps, the way his fingers twitch and his arms jerk ever so slightly in what he's sure are small, aborted attempts at grabbing the baby from Jason's arms. He seems to know better than to try that, though, at the very least in such a public space.
When Jason finally leads them out one of the side doors that exits into an alley, he turns to face Tim, who comes to an abrupt stop as soon as their gazes lock. Jackie is still close to asleep in Jason's arms, a bit more awake now that there was more movement from his current bed. He shifts a bit in Jason's grasp and the movement draws Tim's eye immediately. A small part of Jason takes pleasure in the myriad of emotions he can see flash in the Replacement's eyes; horror, panic, fear, sadness. A much larger, more central part of him is repulsed with himself for being the reason his little brother replacement is feeling so very desperate and afraid.
Jason tries, he really does, to give the baby back to his apparent father (and that's definitely something to come back to later; Tim has a kid? Was no one going to tell him of this fact? Do they really trust him so little?), but Tim speaks before he has the chance to take even a step closer.
"Hood, please," and the pleading tone in his voice, the waver in his words, the way his voice cracks? It pisses Jason off. A growl rumbles from between his lips before he can stop it, and he clutches the baby tighter to his chest. He feels himself shift into an aggressive stance practically against his will. That tone of voice the Replacement is using, that fear; he thinks Jason is a threat to this baby, and that's such a fucking punch to the gut that Jason bypasses guilt completely and jumps straight into defensive anger.
"Please what, pretender?" His question is a challenge, daring Tim to say something, anything, to instigate a more explosive ('more satisfying' whispers a traitorous part of his brain) reaction from the man currently holding his baby against his chest.
Before Tim even has the chance to speak again, Jason snarls "you gonna beg me to hand your brat back over? Grovel at my feet like the pathetic waste of space you are?" His vision goes green and he takes a menacing step forward, but Tim doesn't cower, his scared eyes never leaving the baby Jason holds tightly to his chest.
"You lot might think of me as some kind of amoral monster, but I cross the line at kids and you fucking know it." There's a rage boiling in his gut, intense and almost scary if it wasn't so familiar. Jason doesn't think he's felt this much anger towards Tim directly since the last time he tried to murder the teen.
"You've made exceptions in the past. And they've always been me, Hood." Tim's voice is icy and thin, still wobbly in fear, and as soon as the words register it feels like someone dropped a cold bucket of water on Jason's head.
He hates that the Replacement is right, that despite his commitment and passion to protecting children, he had still tried to murder Tim twice before he could even legally drive. Those harsh words that came from the teen's quivering mouth should have filled Jason with shame and remorse and regret and maybe a bit of sadness and mourning of what they could have been to each other (Jason had always wanted a younger brother, back before his jaunt in the Pit), but when has he ever communicated his thoughts in a healthy manner? Never, that's when, and he wouldn't be starting now, apparently, if his response is anything to go by.
"Fuck you," he snarls, only distantly aware of the baby struggling a bit more in his grasp, whining a bit at the fighting and probably from hearing his whatever-Tim-is-to-him's voice. "I don't hurt kids, I ain't a fucking monster. But if that's how you see me, well, who am I to disappoint?" If his helmet were off he would be giving Tim a wicked smirk, more a show of teeth than anything. He's glad his helmet is still on. The Pit Rage is making it impossible to censor his words, and Jason is becoming increasingly disgusted with himself. God, it's no wonder no one told him about the newest member of the family.
"You think I'm gonna hurt your brat? Well maybe I fucking should," the way the words rip from his mouth is terrifying, painful in a tangible way that Jason can't quite explain. He would never actually hurt his nephew this baby, or any baby for that matter, but the threat lingers in the air like a promise, and the tension is so thick it's like breathing in water. He and the Replacement have finally locked eyes again, and there is no composure anymore, no calm persona or learned emotion repressing in play. Panic floods through Tim's everything; his body language, his eyes, the downturn of his mouth, the pinch in his brows. Jason thinks the teen will lunge at him, fight to get the baby back before retreating somewhere safe, hell, he even wants it to happen, needs the fight as much as Jason deserves to get the shit beat out of him for everything he's said in the last five minutes. Jason isn't expecting what comes next, even when he sees honest to God tears flood the blue eyes that are boring into him just five feet ahead.
Tim collapses to his knees after one unsteady step, a choked off gasp accompanying the sharp little smack as he meets the filthy alley floor.
"Please," he starts, his voice finally louder than a whisper. "Please, I get it, I do, I know you hate me and want to see me hurt, but, fuck, Hood, Jay, he's just a baby. He's innocent in all of this, he didn't have a choice in being mine, don't punish him for that, please, please," every word is like a new blow to Jason, who takes one staggered step backwards, his arms shifting the now awake and fussing baby as he goes. Tim must think he's trying to leave, or about to crush the child's skull between his hands, or any number of shitty, horrifying things that the teen is totally justified in assuming, because he lets out a broken cry and reaches one hand out, the other hitting the floor of the alley to prevent him from falling face first into the asphalt.
"No! Please, god no, he's all I have--" he chokes on his tears "--all I have left. If you have to hurt me, hurt me, please, do whatever you want! I won't fight back," Jason flinches at that, memories of that night in Titans Tower, the phantom feeling of blood coating his hands after he slit the teen's throat, but Tim must think something else, because he's quick to correct himself. "Or I will! If you want a fight, I'll give you one! If you want to torture me, murder me, hand me over to Ra's or the Joker once you're finished, whatever you want, just don't hurt my baby," the baby in question is reaching for the teen now, whining in earnest to match Tim's tears. Tim who still has one arm stretched out, clearly aching to take the baby into his arms and never let go.
"Oh, god, please. My baby…" and that's the final straw for Jason, who rushes forward before he really knows what he's doing, and shoves the baby into the sobbing teen's arms. Tim is shocked just long enough for Jason to turn and grapple away to a nearby rooftop, taking advantage of the teenager's surprise to run before he dissolves into a panic attack at what just transpired.
He stops to take a breath, yanking his helmet off and panting into the cold Gotham air. He knows Tim hasn't moved from his spot knelt on the floor of the alley because he can still hear his sobs, now those of relief rather than of fear.
"Jack, baby shh, it's o-okay, daddy's here, I've got you, I won't let anyone hurt you, god I'm so sorry baby, shhh…" Jason hears more than enough, roughly shoving his helmet back onto his head before grappling the fuck out of there and all the way back to his nearest safehouse.
After tonight's patrol, he was planning on going home to Roy and Lian, but Jason isn't sure he would be able to face them after what happened tonight. He whips out his phone and texts Roy: 'rough night. At safehouse 3. Be back by morning' just to keep his partner in the loop because he knows how much the redhead worries.
'everything good?'
Jason swallows roughly. How is he supposed to answer that? 'no yeah, just ran into my little brother, found out he has a kid, and threatened said kid to the point of pushing my brother into a panic attack where he offered to let me torture and kill him in return for not hurting his baby'? Yeah, that wouldn't work out well. So for now:
'tell you later'
'you aren't hurt?'
And god what did Jason Todd ever do to deserve Roy Harper?
'not hurt, but not in the best place rn to be decent company'
'you know Li and I don't care about that'
And if reading that doesn't make him tear up. Because he knows they don't, knows that Roy and Lian are too good to turn him away when he has an off night like this, but he wouldn't wish himself on his worst enemy when he gets into these kinds of Pit controlled moods. Well, okay, he would definitely go at his enemies in a mood like this, and he has before (and probably will again, at some point), but his point still stands. He gets another message from Roy.
'but I won't push you, babe. Stay safe and take care of yourself, we'll see you in the morning'
Fuck, Jason is glad he took off his helmet and mask when he got in, because the tears are really starting to build up and he can't press the heals of his palms into his eyes with them on. More texts:
'love you 😘😘😘'
'Lian says goodnight btw 💖'
'she insisted on the sparkley heart'
'night jaybird'
Jason really doesn't know where he would be without the Harpers in his life, and he can't help but think back on what Tim had said.
"He's all I have left."
What had the teen meant by that? Did something happen to Jack's mother? And what about everyone at the Manor? Surely they rallied around Tim as soon as they heard about his newfound fatherhood. Right?
But then again, Jason hadn't known. Which means that either everyone else knows and decided to keep this particular fun fact from him, or no one else knows and Tim is keeping it a secret from all of them. But why? Why would he go so out of his way to hide a baby, instead of going to his family for help?
What the fresh fuck was going on with Tim?