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Jason stared at himself in the mirror, gripping the sink tight and swallowing tightly. He felt sick. He was going to puke all over his thousand-dollar suit. The trembling had sunk into his bones.
The kid was here. The kid was here. The kid was here, and Jason knew he was rich but not rich rich, and his worlds had collided in a way that he had never expected.
Jay the street hooker was not Jason Wayne, and if anyone found out—
If Bruce found out—
The door clicked, creaking open, and Jason spun around. He’d sworn he’d locked it, but a locked door wouldn’t stop Bruce from following him, and there was no way Jason could fool Batman, and his house of cards was about to collapse on him. His stomach gurgled unpleasantly as Jason swayed, the world going blurry around him.
“I’m sorry,” came the quiet, stricken voice Jason was not expecting. He rubbed at his eyes and there was the kid, looking stiff and small in his too-expensive rich kid suit. “I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.” He was twisting his fingers together, not looking at Jason. “You—I was just worried about you, because the other—because no one knew where you went. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry.” He slowly looked up at Jason. “I’ll leave you alone now. I’m really sorry.”
Fucking hells. Had Jason really been thinking of this child as a threat?
He set his jaw and advanced on the kid—the kid’s eyes went wide and he flinched back, like he was bracing for a punch, but made no move to get away. It made Jason feel worse, and when he got close enough, he yanked the kid into the tightest hug he could manage.
“Shut up and stop apologizing,” he muttered. The kid fit so familiar in Jason’s arms, and after the stretching moment where he emulated a wooden plank, the kid finally relaxed and returned the hug.
“This isn’t,” the kid whispered quietly, “I didn’t come here to—”
“Do you not want the hug?” Jason growled. The kid took the hint and fell silent. Jason held on, letting the kid calm down the hovering panic, and tried to use Robin analytical skills to figure a way out of this one.
“Are your parents here?” Jason asked.
The kid tensed. “Yes,” he drew the word out warily. “They’re in town for the week to finalize a new merger. Why?”
Oh, so they could make it for a fucking business merger, but not their child’s birthday. Jason’s anger seethed under his skin.
“I’m going to fix this,” Jason promised. He’d talk to Bruce. Dick always said that Bruce couldn’t resist a kid with a sad backstory, and this kid was already a blueblood. If Jason was being honest, he’d make a better son than Jason. “I swear I’ll fix it, okay?”
The kid was looked extremely confused, but as usual, he followed Jason’s cue. “Okay,” he parroted. Jason ruffled his hair.
He needed one important piece of information first.
“So, what’s your name?”
“Timothy Drake,” Jason said to Bruce when they were down in the Cave, getting ready for training.
“Hm?” Bruce looked at him. Jason fought the shudder that came from being under that dissecting gaze.
“Tim Drake,” he repeated, mentally going over his lines. He’d sworn Tim to secrecy on how they’d really met, and honestly the kid was worryingly good at lying. “He’s a kid I saw around the streets a lot back then. He’s being neglected, B. His parents are never home and he gets no emotional support.” He crossed his fingers behind his back. “We need to get him away from them.”
Bruce had already begun typing in the Batcomputer. Jason watched Bruce’s forehead furrow as the details cropped up—the Drakes’ flight records, Tim’s file at Gotham Academy, the lack of other activity at Drake Manor. “You said you saw him on the streets?” Bruce asked.
“Yeah, he stopped by Crime Alley a lot,” Jason said, careful to keep his voice steady. “The working girls are kind to street kids and he hung around them.”
Bruce tilted his head sharply to look at Jason. Jason stayed as still as he could and prayed that his face didn’t betray the lie.
“Hn,” Bruce said. He turned back to the Batcomputer.
Jason waited several stretching seconds, but when there was nothing else forthcoming, he spoke up again. “So? We getting him away or what?”
“I will look into it,” Bruce said firmly, minimizing the screens and getting up.
“He lives right next door,” Jason said, something sinking in his stomach. “We can have him sipping Alfred’s cocoa in half an hour.”
“Jay,” Bruce sighed. Jason felt the coldness creep all over him. “It’s not that simple—”
“It is that simple!” Jason snapped back. He could feel fine tremors take root in his muscles the way they used to when he burned up with frustration and helplessness because the world was such a horrible place and there was nothing he could do about it. “That’s what you did with Dick! Hell, you practically kidnapped me off the streets!”
Jason was training to be Robin now, he wasn’t supposed to feel helpless anymore. He’d been adopted by Gotham’s richest man, he was Batman’s partner, he was supposed to be able to help.
“Jason, you were already in the foster care system, that’s why it was so quick,” Bruce said, voice getting firmer. “I had to wait until Dick was processed and in the system, I didn’t take him in immediately. Tim has parents—”
“They’re horrible!”
“—who are wealthy and respected,” Bruce ignored Jason’s interruption. “They own Drake Industries. They make regular charitable donations to museums. They clearly provide materially for their son. It will be an uphill battle to prove neglect and Tim is their only heir. I doubt they’ll let him go without a fight.”
The rage settled in Jason’s bones.
“They’re rich, so they’ll get away with it,” he retorted. “That’s what you’re saying.”
“Jason—”
“I thought you were different.” Jason almost didn’t recognize his voice, cold and full of venom. Bruce looked taken aback. “But you’re just more of the same.” He turned on his heel and stomped away.
Jason was done waiting for adults to fix the problem. Every adult he’d ever met had been useless. They made sympathetic noises, sure, but there was always an excuse to why they couldn’t possibly do it. Even Batman.
It wasn’t even that hard. One Batcomputer alert on the Drakes’ flight records, a packed bag with all of Jason’s possessions and enough food to last them a week, and a feigned stomachache when it came time for training, and Jason was casing Drake Manor to find the right window. The kid had to be able to exit and enter the property easily and Jason was betting the front door was alarmed, so an out-of-the-way window was the safest bet.
And there—convenient access to a tree with branches just big enough to support a kid’s weight.
The hardest part of this whole thing had been waiting for the Drakes to leave and trying not to alert Bruce in the meantime. He’d shown Jason the evidence he’d been compiling, as though a goddamn dossier mattered when Tim was wasting away right next door, and he’d promised to help, but Jason didn’t give a shit.
He was doing this his way.
Jason inched carefully along the branch within reaching distance of the upstairs northwest window—he was mindful that a couple of months of good food and Robin training had put some weight on his frame—before readying a pebble to throw.
The kid appeared at the third pebble—first confused and then shocked as he hastily yanked the window open. “Jay!” Tim beamed at him. And then squinted. “What are you doing here?”
“Get a bag full of everything you want to take with you. Some clothes, some food, any sentimental things,” Jason instructed. “You’re coming with me.”
Tim’s eyes went as round as saucers.
“What? Really?” He was already scrambling for a bag. He popped back up at the window to ask, “Are we going to stay with Mr. Wayne?”
Jason tightened his jaw. He’d left Bruce a note saying that they were done. “No. Fuck Bruce, and fuck your parents. We’ll go away together.”
Tim hesitated. He looked back at his room and then at Jason, chewing his lip in distraction. Jason, clinging to the branch, had the sinking feeling he’d miscalculated. Why would Tim want to come with him? He was rich. He would have to give all this up to live on the streets for what? Hugs?
“How,” Tim swallowed, and continued quietly, “how much will it cost?”
Jason didn’t think it was possible to feel any worse.
“I’m not taking your money,” Jason said, throat swelling up. “I shouldn’t have taken it to begin with, Tim, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to pay for something as basic as hugs.” Tim was staring at him, wide-eyed and still. “I—I was planning this before I got picked up by Bruce. You’re—you’re practically my little brother.” Jason cleared his throat and blinked furiously. “If that’s what you want.”
Tim’s face scrunched up. For a moment, Jason thought Tim was going to yell at him, to deride him for thinking that he’d want to be brothers with a whore, that Jason was nothing more than a rich kid’s pastime—
Tim sniffled, tears slipping down his cheeks. “You mean it?” he asked thickly, half-bent out of the window to see Jason better. “You really mean it?”
“Yeah, kid,” Jason’s voice was hoarse. “I do.”
Tim rubbed hastily at his face—Jason had to resist the urge to slap his hand away and give him a handkerchief—and turned back towards his room. “Give me ten minutes to pack!”
It wasn’t hard for them to disappear into the twisting streets of Gotham. Children went missing all the time. Even if they’d escaped from Bristol, this was still Gotham. A hungry maw waiting to snap shut.
Jason had risked it and gone to see if there was anything he’d left back at his old apartment and one of his neighbors had spotted him and given him a box of keepsakes that his parents had left. It meant leaving a trail for Batman—if the man was looking—but Jason had at least gotten some of his old stuff back. Most of it was documents, but there were still a couple of things he could pawn off if necessary.
Not that it’d become necessary yet, because the kid had a staggering amount of cash on him. Jason was worried his parents would report him for theft if nothing else, but Tim said they wouldn’t even notice.
To be so rich you wouldn’t notice a couple hundred dollars missing. It made Jason grind his teeth all over again.
Because if they’d just spent a fraction as much love on Tim as they had money, the kid wouldn’t be so painfully touch starved. Jason made sure they stayed close—out of necessity, Tim looked similar enough to him that they could pass for real brothers, and he didn’t trust the kid’s self-preservation instincts—and Tim was all too ready to follow Jason around like a baby duckling.
It made Jason feel terrible about taking the kid’s money for all those years. But he was trying to make up for it now.
Jason was determined to be the best big brother in the world. It was a little difficult when they were both runaways, but he’d found an abandoned apartment in a building where no one asked too many questions. It was spring, so they had several months left before it started getting cold—not that Jason was planning on staying in Gotham.
He had a plan. He was going to save up more money—stealing car parts, mostly, though he’d try other things if he had to—and then head to New York City with Tim. No one there knew him, and Jason and Tim could start fresh. If Jason got his hands on a good fake ID, he could pass himself off as eighteen, and Tim as his little brother staying with him. They could pretend they were immigrants. Jason was working on Tim’s Spanish.
Tim was currently planning out logistics but Jason refused to let him take part in the actual stealing. He wasn’t going to start this kid down a life of crime. Mainly because Tim already seemed worryingly inclined to be a supervillain.
The kid had a truly staggering amount of information on the goings-on of Gotham, along with a whole camera card full of blackmail. When pressed, Tim had mumbled something about dropping off anonymous tips with the GCPD, turning pink. Jason had decided to let it lie, but Tim was definitely in charge of their fake IDs and any and all hacking. Jason just needed to scrounge up enough money to get them started.
“Hey, Mandy,” Jason dropped by the working girls, feeling his shoulders relax. Everyone knew the Bat didn’t come to this part of the Alley. Jason was pretty sure Bruce wasn’t looking for him, but there was no reason to take risks. “You have anything for me?”
Mandy looked at him with the same, sad eyes she’d worn since his reappearance. Jason didn’t tell her or anyone else where he’d gone, but he had a feeling she’d figured out at least part of it. She’d offered Jason some leftover cash but he’d declined the offer.
“Maybe something,” Mandy replied. “Last john said there was a tricked-out car parked at the other end of the Alley. Don’t know if it’s still going to be there, but you could take a look.” Jason mentally reoriented himself. “How’s the squirt doing?” she asked.
“Good.” Jason couldn’t help the smile. The first time Tim realized they’d be cuddling together on the sleeping bag, his eyes had turned to saucers. Now, Jason woke up every day to his own personal teddy bear. “He’s enjoying himself.”
“I’m glad,” Mandy smiled, something solemn in her eyes. “You boys take care of each other, okay?”
“Of course. Thanks for the tip! I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jason didn’t waste any time in heading out. Tim often waited for him to get back before going to sleep and nothing Jason tried disabused him of that habit. Jason had been returning earlier and earlier to ensure that the kid got enough sleep.
If the car wasn’t there, he’d go straight back. They already had more money than Jason expected, he could afford to take the day off. And tomorrow was Saturday—Jason planned to take Tim to the zoo. With all the other kids around, no one would look twice at them.
Jason peered into a couple of alleys before he spotted one that had a car. It was parked in the back, hidden in the shadows, but the gleam was obvious from several feet away. Definitely a fancy car. Jason could steal the rims, the hubcaps, maybe even the tires—
On the very end of the hood, there was a small, distinctive, bat-shaped ornament.
Jason immediately twisted on his heel, intent on fleeing, but his path out of the alley was blocked by a tall, large, caped shadow.
“Going somewhere?” Batman growled.
Shit.
It was a trap. Jason cursed himself for being stupid enough to fall for it as he attempted to slide under Batman’s reach. Jason didn’t know whether Batman was here because of the thievery or something else, but he wasn’t sticking around to find out.
The first time, he’d been scared out of his wits, terrified of the large, dark shadow, armed with a tire iron and all the bravado a twelve-year-old could muster. Now, he’d been trained—and he knew the weak points in the Batman armor.
Jason managed to force Batman to one knee and squeezed through the gap. He ran.
The one advantage Jason had were the streets. Batman didn’t know Crime Alley like Jason did. Jason ducked into alleyways, hid behind dumpsters, and slunk down interconnecting paths until he was sure he’d lost the man.
This was bad. Very bad. Jason burst into their hideout with a force that startled Tim into jumping up as Jason hurriedly began packing.
“Jay? What happened? What are you doing?”
Jason thrust an empty backpack into his hands. “We need to leave. Now.” His mind was already trying to figure out which buses ran this late and how many connections they’d need to change to make sure Batman couldn’t trace them. If someone else bought the tickets, maybe… “Pack everything you absolutely need. Quickly.”
Tim nodded, eyes wide and face pale, and headed into the bedroom. Jason took a moment to feel terrible about scaring him, but there was no time for apologies. They needed to be gone.
Jason was halfway through cramming as much nonperishables as would fit in their duffel bag when he heard Tim’s shriek.
He got to the bedroom as fast as he could, but it didn’t matter. Not when a hulking shadow was blocking their fire escape and glowering at the both of them.
They were never going to be able to escape.
Jason shoved Tim back behind him and set his stance. “What do you want?” he snapped.
“Jason,” Batman growled. “You can’t just run away from home.” Jason scowled—did Batman actually come here to drag him back? “And you can’t take another child with you.”
Jason bared his teeth. “If you want to take Tim, you have to go through me.”
Batman stared him down, as though calculating how best to get through him. Jason balled his hands into fists and wished he’d had a few more weeks of Robin training. Or at least some more gear.
“You can’t take us back.” Tim had somehow wriggled out from behind Jason and was now facing Batman, steely-eyed despite his short stature. “Mr. Wayne.”
Jason gaped at him. What. Batman didn’t do anything so obvious as jerk, but Jason felt his glare harden as he stared at the boy.
“Excuse me?” Batman growled.
“I know who you are,” Tim said, icily calm. “I know Dick Grayson was Robin. I have photographic proof stretching back years—a story I know the Gotham Gazette would love to get their hands on.” He paused and the silence stretched, taut and wordless. “We want to be left alone. What is it going to take?”
Jason had been right. This kid was a supervillain in the making. He pulled Tim behind him again—he’d never seen Batman hit a kid, but an identity reveal complicated things. How the hell had the kid found out?
“How did you know?” Batman demanded, mirroring Jason’s thoughts.
“There’s only one person in this country that can do a quadruple somersault,” Tim piped up from behind Jason, as though that meant anything.
Apparently it did to Batman, because the lines of his face relaxed to something more weary. Jason didn’t untense, but his anxiety calmed a bit.
“Timothy,” Batman—no, Bruce said, without the growl, voice softer.
“Tim,” the little shit interjected. Jason squeezed his grip on the kid.
“Tim,” Bruce corrected, addressing Jason’s arm in lieu of spotting Tim. “You’re nine. Jason is twelve. You can’t be living on your own.”
“I’m almost ten!” Tim poked his head out, indignant. Jason tried to keep a hold of him, but the kid was slippery. “And we can! We have a plan!”
“You still need adult supervision,” Bruce said, gentle but firm.
Tim’s whole face scrunched up but the kid’s voice was scarily even. Jason didn’t want to think about where the kid had picked it up. “Do you know where my parents are right now?” Tim asked softly.
Batman didn’t answer.
“Did they notice I was missing?” Tim asked. It had been nearly a week and Jason certainly hadn’t seen any missing person posters. “Are they back in Gotham?”
Batman’s silence was very telling. Jason saw Tim swallow, a small break in the icy façade.
“Jay’s cared more about me than anyone else,” Tim snarled, grabbing Jason’s hand and pulling him close. “You can’t take me from him!”
There was something stuck in Jason’s throat. Ninety percent of the time, they’d interacted because Tim was paying him. He hadn’t—he had never expected—he had started the whole thing as a transaction. A manipulation, taking advantage of this tiny, touch-starved child that just wanted to be loved.
The room had gone blurry. Jason blinked frantically, willing the tears not to fall.
“How long have you known Jay?” Bruce asked shrewdly. Tim sensed it too, because he clung harder to Jason’s hand.
“None of your business,” the kid responded harshly.
“Years,” Jason croaked out. Batman’s unnerving white lenses snapped towards him and Jason hastily rubbed his face. “It—it’s been years.”
“Jay—”
Jason tugged the kid fully to his side, cutting off his interjection. “He used to pay me for hugs,” Jason said, chin up, daring Bruce to challenge him on the implications. “He was so lonely that he wandered into Crime Alley and paid a prostitute to hold him.” Something in Batman’s posture went tense. “I don’t care what you say,” Jason snarled. “I don’t care what I’ll have to do. But I won’t let him go back to those people you call his parents.”
Batman’s cape rippled slightly, but the man himself was still and silent. For a long moment. For a really long moment, long enough that Jason wondered if the guy was buffering and if he and Tim could make a break for it.
Just when he was about to get Tim to run, Batman moved forward a step. “How about a deal,” Bruce said, regarding both Tim and Jason. “Instead of running away, you can both come live in Wayne Manor.”
Jason narrowed his eyes. Tim had a similarly suspicious look on his face. “How much will it cost?” the kid asked.
“Nothing,” Bruce replied, holding up his hands before they could protest. “I only want to know that you’re safe.” His gaze drifted to Jason. “Both of you.”
Jason clenched his jaw and remembered an outstretched hand on a night when he was cold and hungry and desperate to be safe. The allure hadn’t diminished.
“You can’t give him back,” Jason said hoarsely. He didn’t care if Bruce kicked him out again when he fully thought through what Jason had revealed, but Tim deserved better. “You can’t.”
“I won’t,” Bruce said quietly. “I promise.”
Jason studied his face for any hint of a lie and didn’t find it. He looked down at Tim. Tim looked back up, eyes beseeching.
“Fine,” Jason folded, out of options.
They got their stuff packed in the Batmobile and Jason settled in the backseat, Tim clinging fiercely to his hand but staring in awe at all the buttons and gadgets around him. Jason spared a brief moment to smile at his wonder before going back to glare at the back of Batman’s head.
He couldn’t help but wait for the axe to fall.
It had been hard to extract Tim from the Cave, the kid was starry-eyed at every single trophy—Jason squashed down the memory of his own first trip to the Cave—but Alfred finally managed to chivvy him upstairs to pick out his bedroom before a late dinner. Tim had resisted, glancing back at Jason, and only going along when Jason gave a decisive nod.
Every piece of evidence of the kid’s unconditional trust made Jason’s heart break. Every time he remembered his instinctive jerk away from the kid at the gala, he wanted to puke. How could he have even thought about pushing away the little shrimp? Jason vowed right then and there that he would never again leave Tim behind, no matter what it took.
Bruce cleared his throat, a soft, pointed sound, and Jason finally turned to look at him.
He’d removed the cowl, hair flattened into messy locks, and he was leaning against the Batcomputer, watching Jason with an unfathomable expression. Jason couldn’t help but hunch his shoulders, crossing his arms with a lack of anything better to do with them.
“I didn’t tell him,” Jason said, aiming for steady but landing somewhere near wobbly. Bruce’s eyebrow ticked up. “I didn’t tell him about Batman and Robin. I swear.”
“I believe you,” Bruce said easily. Too easily.
“And I meant what I said,” Jason said, trying to be firm. “I won’t let you take him back. If you try, we’ll run away again. So far that even the Justice League can’t find us.”
Bruce’s other eyebrow rose to join its partner. “There’s no need to run away,” Bruce said slowly, “but I understand.” Jason balled his hands and released them slowly. “I meant what I said. I promised you he won’t go back.”
“Even if the Drakes fight back?” Jason shot back. “Even if it isn’t easy?”
“I promised,” Bruce repeated, before he sighed. “I notified Gordon of Tim’s disappearance. He’s forming the case for neglect. I’ll let him know tomorrow that Tim was deposited in my care and he’ll finalize the preparations. Tim will have to sit down with a social worker and answer some questions, but with evidence of criminal neglect, Tim can immediately be transferred from the Drakes’ custody.”
Jason let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders since he concluded that Bruce couldn’t help dissipated, leaving him staggering. Bruce stepped forward, as though to catch him, and Jason jerked back before Bruce could touch him.
“Jay,” Bruce started, slow and soft.
“Don’t,” Jason cut him off, stepping back again before forcing himself still. If he started running now, he’d never stop. “Just get it over with.” He kept his hands wrapped around himself. “What’s it going to be first? Stealing? Running away? Kidnapping?” He couldn’t choke out the last one. “Did you finally realize it was a mistake to take me in?”
Robin was a symbol of hope. A light in dark, hungry Gotham, an unblinking radiance that never dimmed. Jason’s grubby hands should’ve never even touched the costume.
“Jay-lad.” Jason could hear Bruce’s footsteps but his gaze was fixed on the ground, trying not to shake. His whole face was hot and burning and he stared fixedly at a spot on the rough stone floor, fighting back the tears.
He froze completely when dark boots entered his field of vision, but he jerked in surprise when it was joined by a solemn face.
“Jay,” Bruce was kneeling on the ground, looking up at him with a soft, sad expression, “I promise you that I never have and never will regret taking you in.”
“But I—” burst free, Jason’s voice cracking down the middle, “but I ran away—”
“I’m sorry,” Bruce said solemnly, “for making you feel like you couldn’t trust me. I’m sorry that you thought I wouldn’t help you.”
“I—I didn’t—I could’ve—”
“Jay.” Bruce waited until Jason met his eyes, blurry but blue. “I’m so very sorry that I put you in a position where you felt you couldn’t protect someone who needed it.”
No, no, that wasn’t what Jason was doing, Bruce had completely the wrong idea. Jason shook his head violently. “You don’t know,” he said, voice small and shaking, “you don’t know what I did, you don’t know who I am—” Jason had taken advantage of Tim for years, Jason lied to Bruce about who he really was, Jason let Batman train him as Robin without ever admitting—“You have no idea—”
“I do,” Bruce said, soft but implacable. Jason stared at him, teary-eyed. At the steel in his gaze, at the determined expression on his face. “I know you. I know you have a heart so big I wonder how you can contain it. I know how much you want to help people. I know who you are, Jason Todd-Wayne.” Bruce slowly reached out until he could grasp Jason’s hands and tug them free. Jason let him, unable to pull away. “I know you’re the best big brother that Tim could ever ask for.”
Jason lost the battle with his tears and when Bruce pulled him into a full hug, he clutched the man’s suit, sobbing like a baby against the hard kevlar. Bruce kept him there, shushing him when he nearly choked, but otherwise letting the tears run out, gently stroking through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” Jason whispered to the armor, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”
“It’s okay,” Bruce said softly. “Everything will be okay.”
It felt like hours before Jason finally pulled himself free, gathering the pieces of himself back together and scrubbing at his face. Bruce tutted lightly before producing a handkerchief that Jason used to mop up his face. Jason turned away from the mess he’d made of the Batsuit, cheeks burning.
“Come on,” Bruce said lightly, stripping out of the suit. “Let’s go and have dinner. I have a strong suspicion that Alfred made your favorites.”
Jason sniffled again—he’d have to apologize to the butler too, and return the silverware he’d pinched—but took Bruce’s outstretched hand to head out of the Cave. He was tired and definitely hungry, and if this was a trick, he could figure it out tomorrow.
On the first step, Jason paused, struck by a sudden thought. “Could we invite Dick over this weekend?” Jason asked as casually as he could.
Bruce squinted at him and Jason kept his face as neutral was possible. “Of course,” Bruce said finally, frowning slightly. “Why? Did something happen?”
“No,” Jason shrugged a shoulder. “Just haven’t seen him in a while.” He bounded up the steps, listening for Bruce to follow.
Bruce made a thoughtful hn but gave no inkling that he suspected anything amiss. Jason focused his attention on going back upstairs and confirming that Tim was safe and happy in his new home. Nothing would be able to stand in the way. Jason would make sure of that.