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strangeshoepatrolbandit · 1 year

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Stepfather!Jason/Dick x GN!Stepkid!Reader.

Summary: short stories of Jason/Dick being your stepfather. (Separate)

Warnings: Guns, mentions a hypothetical intruder. This is fluff, I promise.

This is inspired by (this post)

F/B= Favorite Breakfast.

Dick Grayson

"Y/N..." Dick whispered, lightly shaking your shoulder. You hummed as a way to get him to tell you why he was waking you up so early.

"C'mon, I've got something special for you." He began. "And I think you'll really like it."

You let out a sigh as you sat up, bringing your arms up as well to rub your eyes. Dick rose frome the bed, his long legs leading him. to somewhere else. You got up to follow him, curious as to what exactly he had.

You heard the noise of a plate being set on the counter, and you could smell the food that had been cooked. As you walked into the kitchen, you didn't expect your F/B to be laid out. The closer you got, the more you could see a plate at the breakfast bar, utensils neatly set on either side of it.

"We both know I'm not the best cook, but I hope you like it!" Dick told you, hands occupied with setting another plate. You quietly sat down, quickly picking up your utensils and digging in.

"This is good!" You beamed, mouth full of food. Dick set down his plate and sat next to you, offering a wide grin at your praises.

"Where's mom?" You asked, taking note of her lack of presence.

"She had to work, I'm sorry." Dick sympathized.

"It's okay she'll be here later." You told him, not wanting him to feel bad.

"Happy birthday." He told you, moving some stray hair out of your face then pulling you into an embrace.

...

"Hurry up, we've got b's credit card for the day!" He mentioned as he let you go.

He wasn't going to bring up that your mother actually wasn't at work. She was at the Manor, working alongside his father and siblings so that you could have the best surprise party ever.

Jason Todd

"Hey, kid!" Jason greeted as you walked through the front door.

"Hey, Jay." You sighed, happy to finally be home from school. Jason remembers how he loved school when he was younger. He had good grades and always did his homework before dinner.

You set your bag next to the coffee table and sat down next to jason on the couch. The man himself was currently cleaning a gun.

When you and your mother had moved in with Jason, his persona was made known immediately. (As if you didn't already expect it.) Something that you and Jason had bonded over was his guns, one evening he showed you how each of them worked and what exactly you should do if there was an intruder. He even showed you where his already loaded ones were.

That night, your mother had come home to the two of you making spaghetti, side by side. All of the awkwardness and fear of one another not liking you had drained away.

"What's wrong?" He asked, faltering his movements so that he could look at you.

"School," you started. "People, Stress."

Jason let out a chuckle at your words. Even if his high-school days were cut short, he still understood.

"It gets better, though." He tells you, staring back at his guns.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it does." He states, now setting down the gun he held and wiping his hands on a rag.

"You could get into a very loving relationship and earn a kick-ass step-kid." He smiled, now leaning back on the couch watching you.

You let out a chuckle at his words, "You're not too bad yourself." You responded.

Jason let out a breathy laugh, "Wanna go get something to eat?"

"Fuck yeah I do!" You cheered.

"Language." He teased, mimicking your mother.

~☆~

I used to love my step-dad, and then he started being unbearable. Fuck you Nick, that's why mom's leaving you.

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colebowthemole · 7 months

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Some family fluff that i made, i don't care how ooc it is. I like to think that Dick helped Jason on a case and in return, Jason is making him Chili on the condition that Dick not touch ANYTHING. Also, Dick is the one who goes to Jason's apartment the most (much to Jason's feigned annoyance) because he's worried about him, and every time he goes he sticks something on the fridge that he finds laying around Jason's apartment.

Shown:

Lian's birthday party invitation

Damien's essay on Pride and Prejudice

A Polaroid from Jason and Dick's ski trip, pre-Jason-dying

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pekejscatbed · 6 months

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Happy Birthday, Runaway | Jason Todd centric

Info/Warnings:

Translations:

Dios mío - oh my god, Padre Nuestro - the lord's prayer, Ave Maria - holy Mary, Gloria - glory be

set in the Runaway and Circus Boy universe

batman masterlist

------

The Gotham Clock Tower chimes from above as Robin ties up a wannabe purse snatcher, signifying a new day: August 16th.

"Good work, Robin." Batman doesn't sound impressed, and it probably has to do with Robin running off on his own, again, despite the many lectures The Batman has given him about not doing that exact thing.

Robin just grins at him, "Thanks, B-man."

And as the two crime fighters grapple away to finish patrolling the city, Robin swears he hears Batman wish him a happy birthday over the wind.

(When they finish patrol, after putting half a dozen new criminals in jail, and get back to the Batcave, there's a shiny black and red and yellow motorbike in the middle of cave that wasn't there before they left for patrol and that neither Robin nor Jason have ever seen before, and it has the Robin insignia on the side, and he thinks its brand new and-

"Custom made, for Robin."

(Jason gushes about it all the way up the stairs and the whole walk to his room and he wouldn't be surprised if he had talked about it in his sleep, too, because his dreams are filled of him riding his brand-new, custom-made Robin bike throughout the city and fighting crime, but on a motorcycle!))

------

"Happy fifteenth, Master Jason."

Jason wakes up to the curtains in his bedroom being pulled open, the morning sun burning his sleepy eyes, and he immediately pulls the covers over his head and squeezes his green-blue eyes shut; said covers are snatched away only a second later by the same man who's just so kindly reminded him of his birthday.

"If you do not wish to open your presents, I can gladly send them back. I'm sure Master Bruce would agree." Alfred walks to Jason's bedroom door, only to pause, looking over his shoulder. "Not to mention, the breakfast I cooked up for you."

Alfred gestures to the boy's dresser before exiting the room, lightly shutting the door behind him, and it's only now that Jason recognizes the smell of food in his room and he rubs the remaining sleep out of his eyes before he looks over to his dresser to see a silver tray filled with all of his favorite breakfast foods and a glass of orange juice, no doubt fresh squeezed by Alfred himself. Jason wastes no time in grabbing the freshly cooked meal; birthdays are the only days Alfred will allow breakfast in bed, after all.

------

The day goes by slowly, school just as boring on Jason's birthday as it is any other day, and he doesn't have many friends to wish him happy birthday or receive presents from. The two friends he does have, though, have pulled their money together to buy Jason a new Nintendo DS game and a Playboy magazine one of the kid's older brothers bought for them (Jason laughs it off, trying not to show his discomfort; it's not like he could just tell his friends he's gay, who knows how they'd react?), and his English teacher gives him a brand new copy of How To Kill A Mockingbird, which his friends make fun of him for, but English has always been his favorite subject so he's never been anything but a teacher's pet when it comes to the sweet old lady who teaches his class. Plus, Jason's pretty sure she's a lesbian because she only ever refers to her spouse by gender-neutral terms despite the number of students and staff alike who seem to think she really intends to say "husband" and that she just "misspoke", and Jason's young, queer heart swells with joy knowing that there's other people out there in the world like him, especially older people. We've always been here.

(Jason spends all day wondering why Dick hasn't wished him a happy birthday, especially considering how the circus boy has always made such a huge deal about birthday in the past, and for a moment Jason panics- what if Dick knows I like him and he hates me for it and he never wants to speak to me again and- the final bell rings, interrupting Jason's thoughts, and the boy shakes his head as he grabs his backpack, making his way to Gotham Academy's front gates where Alfred picks him up in that ridiculous mini limousine that Jason hates because he just wants to feel like a normal kid and go to a normal high school, not this fancy, prestigious "academy" that Bruce and Alfred make him go to for a "proper" education.

Dios mío, I sound like a middle school girl.)

------

When Jason gets home (he only just recently started referring to Wayne Manor as home), Bruce is waiting for him at the door, a seriously serious look on his face, and Jason thinks he's in trouble for running off last night as Robin because he hasn't done anything else to piss the man off recently, at least, not that he can remember. Of course, instead of just asking what, if anything, he did wrong-

"You look constipated, old man. Seriously, who pissed in your Cheerios?"

"Master Jason!" Alfred looks offended for Bruce, though Jason's pretty sure it's only mock offense, if the laugh-disguised-cough is anything to go by; Bruce just rolls his eyes.

"Cave. Now." And Bruce is walking off, presumably to the nearest secret entrance to the Batcave.

Jason sets down his backpack by the door, mumbling about "my birthday" and "one day off" and "I didn't even do anything", before following Bruce.

When he gets to the cave, Bruce- Batman- Bruce-Bat?- Bat-Bruce?- is already there, suit on except for the mask, and Jason wonders how the hell the man had enough time to change when Jason was only a whole ten steps behind him; Jason pulls on his suit as he speaks.

"What's up, B-man?" Jason looks at the screens on the Batcomputer, where he sees images of Joker and a woman with dark, curly hair and tan skin, as well as striking green eyes, and Jason thinks that she could be his biological mother if his dad hadn't told him she died during childbirth. "Who's she?"

Bat-Bruce doesn't reply right away, and Jason turns to the side to look at him, and only now does he see the deep frown on the mans lips and the far away look in his eyes. "Her name is Sheila Haywood."

He sounds... sad? Jason isn't sure what he hears in Bruce's voice, but he knows it's not good. "Okay...? What does Joker want with her?"

"Jason," Bruce pauses, takes a deep breath, then puts a hand on Jason's shoulder, "she's your birth mother."

The boy forces out a laugh, shrugging off Bruce's hand. "Ha. Ha. Very funny, Bruce. My mom's dead, died during childbirth, I never met the woman."

"She didn't die during childbirth, Jason. She was a doctor at Gotham General where she got caught preforming an illegal operation after her patient died, a girl no older than you are now, and fled the country to avoid jail time. She's been living abroad ever since." Bruce's frown deepens the more he talks, and his voice is flat, serious, and Jason knows he's telling the truth.

"How long have you known?"

"Jason," The man tries to explain, tries to calm Jason down, tries to do anything for the boy- but Jason-

"How long have you known, Bruce?" Jason is pissed, at Bruce for keeping this from him, at his dad for lying to him, at his mom for never contacting him, at himself for never looking into his birth mother but he never had any reason to so why would he have? And he raises his voice, "Why didn't you tell me my mother is alive!?"

Jason storms out of the cave, walking up the stairs, anger flooding his body and mind like the rainwater that used to flood the driveway of his old house with his dad during Gotham's raging storms, and he knows he needs to calm down or else he'll destruct and probably hurt himself in the process, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care because he's been lied to his whole life by the people he thought he could trust- the people he should have been able to trust- and if they never cared enough about him to tell him the truth then why should he care about himself enough to take a deep breath, and calm down, and think-

I'm going after her. Joker has her so she's in danger and I have to save her because she's my mom and I need to know why she never- I need to save her. For the mission, for the job.

Jason turns around, heading back down into the cave and putting on his domino mask. Batman is already gone, and so is the Batmobile; Robin checks the Batcomputer for Joker and his moms- Sheila's- location, hops onto his new bike, and revs the engine, speeding out of the Batcave.

(In his hurry and his still simmering rage, Robin misses the glitch of numbers, misses the static of an outside source hacked into the Bat-frequency.)

------

Dick Grayson flashes a smile at his coworker as he walks out of the bar, ready to drive the hour-long trip from Blüdhaven to Gotham to surprise his little brother for his birthday. He had originally planned to get the day off from work so he could spend all day with Jason, but he waited too long to be approved for a vacation day, though luckily, he was able to convince his boss to only give him the day shift instead night (it really makes his night job much, much easier that way), so a sleepover will have to do, and Dick was never scheduled to work tomorrow anyway. Before he leaves, the bartender triple checks the trunk of his car for Jason's present and the cooler containing the homemade cake he baked yesterday afternoon, following a recipe Alfred had given him after Dick had quite literally gotten on his knees and begged, ever the Drama Queen.

------

The location brings Robin to a warehouse at the outskirts of Gotham. The place is definitely Jokers, with balloons and party streamers all over the outside, and when he looks inside via an open side window, he sees the interior matches the exterior with dark, velvet purple and acidic green party decorations. He sneaks through the window, ready to beat Joker and save Sheila, only for the lights to snap on- Joker knew he was coming- and Robin glances at the window, fucking motion detectors.

"Welcome, welcome, little Robin!" Joker stands in the middle of the warehouse, sickly grin stretching wide across his face, staring directly at the 'little' vigilante. "I've been expecting you! Hah, hahaha!"

Robin drops down in front of the laughing lunatic. "What do you want, Joker!? Where is Sheila Haywood!?"

"What do I want? Hm? Why to see the look on a certain birdies face when Mama Bird betrays him, of course!"

A rag is shoved in his face from behind before he can respond and he turns to see Sheila- his mother- standing there, before his vision fades and his body collapses.

------

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride You're toxic, I'm slippin' under With a taste of a poison-

Dicks about half-way to Gatham when his phone goes off, Brittany Spears serenading his eardrums. He answers the call at a red light, glancing at the Caller I.D. long enough to read "Alfred", and puts the phone on speaker before the light turns green and he's moving again.

"Hey, Alfred! What's up?"

"Master Richard," Alfreds voice is shaky as he speaks, and Dick's eyebrows furrow together in worry, "Master Jason is... missing."

------

Cold, wet.

Robin gasps awake, body shivering as ice-cold water is thrown at his face, soaking his hair and trailing down his forehead-nose-cheeks-chin until the liquid lands on his suit, soaking through his body armor. His can feel the rope around his wrists and ankles, and Robin realizes he's tied to a chair. He hears Joker before he sees him, that sickeningly sadistic laugh screaming at his eardrums and aggravating his already pounding head; he must have hit his head on the ground earlier when he fell, or maybe it's just a side effect of being fucking drugged in the first place.

"Jason Todd!" The Joker is directly in front of him, and it's only now that Robin- Jason- realizes his mask is gone. "Oh, don't look so surprised, little bird! How would I have known about Mommy Dearest if I didn't know about you?"

"Trap. This was a-"

"A trap!" Joker mimics him, screeching like a siren, before he throws the bucket he was holding to the ground, the sound ringing throughout the warehouse, suddenly angry. "God! How stupid are you? The other kid would've sniffed that out from the beginning! Seriously, how did Bats find you? Did you get dropped on your head as a baby? Oh, oh!"

The Joker grins again and walks behind Jason, sharply turning the chair he's bound to, and now Jason can see his mom tied to a support beam; duct tape covers her mouth, crimson slipping through the tape and dripping down her chin. Her curly hair is disheveled and sticking up at odd angles, and her emerald eyes are wide, shaking with fear. She struggles against her restraints and the clown laughs again, stalking over to Sheila.

"Why don't we ask her?" Joker rips the tape off of Sheila's mouth, cackling as she lets out a short scream, and Jason gasps once more, immediately noticing the long, jagged cuts on either side of her mouth, mimicking a smile. "Did Mama Bird drop Baby Birdie on his head?"

Sheila doesn't respond, just shaking her head back and forth, blood spilling down her tan cheeks and staining her clothes. She whimpers when Joker pulls at her hair and demands an answer. "No, no, no!"

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Jason knows he should be mad, Sheila betrayed him, her own son, but she's still his mother and he can't just sit back and watch as Joker abuses her- but he has to, because his utility belt is gone so he has no tools he can use to cut his way free and Joker is looking at him like he knows exactly what Jason is think and he just laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

"Aw, how sweet! Baby Bird wants to protect Mommy!" Joker lets go of Sheila's hair, practically throwing her head to the side.

Suddenly, Joker is behind Jason again, and then Jason hears the screeching sound of metal dragging against concrete, and his brain pounds, pounds, pounds against his skull and he pulls against his binds, twisting and turning as much as he can and-

THUNK!

His head jerks back at the force and the next hit has him falling sideways in the chair until he hits the ground, and he swears he can hear his skull crack against the concrete.

"Ha! HAHAHA!" The Joker is in front of him now, bending over to look at him, and Jason can see the crowbar in his paper white hands for a split second before he's being hit again, and again, and again, body being battered black and blue as his costume is ripped to shreds with each hit and his own blood is pooling around him in a puddle, and if he looks down, he can see his bones poking through skin like the jagged rocks of a mountain.

As his bones crack and break, Jason can hear his mother praying in her native tongue through her sobs, Padre Nuestro and Ave Maria and Gloria filling his ears enough to block out the crazy clown's gruesome giggles.

And as Jason takes his last breath, he realizes his dad was right all those years ago; he does look like the spitting image his mother. They share the same dark, curly hair, and they have the same naturally tan skin dotted with freckles, and Jason's eyes are a similar shade of green, though his are tinted the with the pale blue of his father's eyes.

(A load BOOM! shakes the foundation of the old warehouse, smoke and flames engulfing the building and spreading through the air, but Jason doesn't even flinch.)

------

Joker is long gone by the time Batman and Nightwing get to the scene, and his decorations are burned to a crisp from the explosion, minus a single balloon that reads "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" in big, cursive letters, tied to a bloody crowbar and surrounded by a multitude of custom Joker playing cards, stylized in the whitest of white and dark purple and acid green.

The two vigilantes run into the falling warehouse, shifting through rubble and searching for, screaming for, "Robin! Robin! Jason!"

They find Sheila first, she's hunched over, and her clothes are singed, barely covering her, allowing Nightwing and The Batman to see the extensive burns on her back, and she's muttering the same phrase over and over again, "Lo siento, lo siento mucho!"

"Dr. Haywood?" She whips around at Nightwings voice, and both him and Batman grimaces at the carved smile on her face.

"Help! Help him!" Sheila sobs, turning back to what- who- she was hunched over. "Help my baby!"

Batman gives a sharp intake at the sight of Jason, kneeling next to Shelia to pick the boy up; she grabs at his arm, but her grip is weak, and he notices how shallow her breath is. "Nightwing, get her out of here. She needs medical attention. I've got Jason."

If the break in his voice is heard, no one acknowledges it.

"He didn't deserve this! He was a good boy, he didn't deserve this!" Sheila cries as Nightwing helps her to her feet, but she does nothing to stop him, and he guides her out of the building; Batman follows behind them, Jason's bruised and beaten body laying limp in his arms, and he falls to his knees once they're all far enough away from the building, tears forcing their way out of his tear ducts and streaming down his face as he holds his deceased son in his arms.

"Sheila, she didn't- she barely made it out of the building before she..." Nightwing leans down next to him, voice trailing off and face painted in tears as he holds Jason's unmoving hand in his own. He whispers, "Happy Birthday, Runaway."

The warehouse crumbles behind them, crashing down as Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson mourn the loss of a son, a brother, and a friend.

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loosepocketchange01 · 1 year

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BATMAN FIGURE SKATING AU BATMAN FIGURE SKATING AU

———————

Break the ice

———————

Heel to toe.

Wait for it.

Don’t rush it.

Don’t slow down.

Don’t lean out.

Keep in.

Heel to toe.

Don’t wipe out.

The only thoughts repeating in Jason’s head are like a mantra. The moment his skate hit the ice again, he knew it wasn’t right even before Bruce called out.

“You’re pre-rotating! Don’t skid your takeoff, keep it clean!”

The man began skating over to him, giving Jason only a moment to prepare for the disappointment in Bruce’s expression. When he finally stopped in front of him, Jason was surprised to find there was none, only the face of a man deep in thought. When their eyes met, it was hard for him not to look away. It was as though Bruce was studying him, trying to find out what made him tick.

“Jason…”

He swallowed. “Coach?”

“Is something, say, bothering you? Distracting you maybe?”

Aw hell, he seriously thought it was because he wasn’t focused? It was hard to get a jump like that when your whole life depends on it, why couldn’t Bruce just understand?

“Nah, B. I’m good. Probably something up with my skates. Actually, ya know what? I’ll just go retie ’em real quick.”

“Jason-“

“Don’t worry, Bruce! It’ll only be a sec!” And Jason was already speeding off the ice and into the locker rooms.

Dumping himself onto a bench, he took a moment to catch his breath. Head leaning against the wall behind him, the cool brick— or whatever it was— felt like heaven against his sweaty hair. Jason’s eyes shut for a moment, replaying the sequence in his head.

He needed that double axel. If he didn’t get the 2A, then he’d never get the 3A. If Jason doesn’t land that 3A in competition, Bruce won’t see the point in keeping him. He couldn’t fail, not when everything depended on it.

Life at the manor made him realize just how much he lacked living with Willis and on the streets. The man earned just enough to fund Jason’s skating and his mother’s addiction but fell short completely in the parenting apartment. The goal before he was arrested was to take the total share of Jason’s money from sponsors and place rewards. Before.

Bruce was like a father to him even before he was adopted. Constantly saying how proud he was of Jason, hugging him when he reached a milestone, and even celebrating his 11th birthday when Willis forgot.

He was 14 now and still didn’t have his double axel. Jason wasn’t stupid. He knew people took years to get their double and triple A. It didn’t matter. If Jason wasn’t skating, if he wasn’t winning, then Bruce wouldn’t see the point in keeping him around.

If only it wasn’t so hard, but no. It was always pre-rotated. Under-rotated. Over-rotated. Waxel. Check the arms. Nothing was ever right.

Except for the one time.

A perfect takeoff, 2.5 rotations, and a perfect landing. He’d done it all while he was sick and shown up to practice anyway, too delusional to think about his mental block and simply going for it without a care in the world besides the migraine in his head.

Bruce had cheered for him up until the moment he realized Jason had hidden being sick from him.

He did it once, why can’t he just do it again?

“Hey, JayBuddy!”

Jason nearly slammed his head against the wall as he jolted, eyes opening in a panicked array. His vision centered on Dick Grayson.

“Woah, hey, relax. Sorry I scared ya.” The smile never left his face.

Jason scowled.

Dick. Fucking. Grayson.

Possibly the worst part about living with Bruce was his other kid. The ever-annoying man never knew when to stop teasing, and made his disdain for Jason obvious. Dick didn’t even live with Bruce anymore, but he always made time to visit just to piss Jason off. This was even without the constant comparisons made by the man.

‘Struggling with your 2A, Jason? I could do my 3A at your age!’

‘Oooo tough wipeout on your quad salchow. Ya know, that’s my signature jump.’

Jason hated the man, no matter how much the papers emphasized that they were brothers.

“What do you want, dickface.”

The older boy made an expression of mock offense, even going so far as to lay a hand over his heart.

“I’m wounded, Jason, truly. You realize this is a public locker room, right? I can be here if I want.”

Jason rolled his eyes, moving to redo the laces on his skates despite not needing to. He barely bit back the series of curses when he heard Dick set down his back beside him and take a seat to Jason’s left. He’d come to find that the best thing to do was to ignore him.

“Though, with how long that double is taking, I’d wanna hide too.”

But that would only work if Jason was good at ignoring people who pissed him off. He wasn’t.

Jason nearly stood right up before remembering that his laces were completely loose and setting himself back down. Dick’s cheery expression did little to hide the man’s malicious intentions.

“Fuck off, asshole! It’s not that easy!”

He set to work on the first pair of laces.

“Isn’t it? I got mine in a year. Less if you don’t include the times Bruce made me do it in a harness.”

Jason fumbled with the hooks in his anger, loosening the whole thing and having the start over.

“I guess that’s what you get for stealing my place while I was gone though.”

It had been a sore spot for both of them. After Bruce got Jason off the streets after 2 years of not seeing the boy, they were quick to return to training. When Dick returned from a sponsor trip abroad, he wasn’t the happiest upon seeing that some kid he didn’t know took all of his practice slots.

Jason willed himself not to let the liquid collecting in his eyes fall. He simply moved on to the next skate.

“That it? You’re not gonna argue back? Maybe tell me about how much of an ass I’m being again?”

It was getting harder to hide the quiver in his lip.

“None of your sarcastic responses?”

“What do you want me to say, Dick?” Nothing was more embarrassing to Jason than the shakiness of his own voice. He felt Dick’s shadow over him lean back and out of his space.

“What? Hey, kid. Are you crying?”

Jason tugged on the final knot of his laces and stood up, glaring at the stunned man through his blurry vision.

“I hate you! You don’t even know how lucky you are!”

Any part of the older man��s expression that showed guilt dissipated in a quick second, quick to fire back.

“And you aren’t? Don’t act like it’s so easy for me!”

And now Jason couldn’t stop himself from letting everything stream out, like a raging waterfall trying to escape from a stuttering source.

“You don’t have to fight for your home! You’re already B’s son! Why do I gotta fight to have a place to sleep? Nail every stupid jump and sequence or else Bruce is gonna send me back! And because you’re such an ass-, you just gotta rub it in my face! I get it, okay?” He cringed at how his voice cracked but pushed through anyway.

“I’m not good enough to be his kid!”

And finally, Dick had no more left to say, just the face of shock as Jason gathered his things and rushed out of the room.

There wasn’t time for Jason to dwell on it. He had a practice to return to.

As soon as he was a safe distance away from both Dick and Bruce, hidden in the corner by the water fountains and vending machines, Jason wiped away his tears and tugged his jacket back on.

And so after he returned, they ran through it again and again. There was always some mistake, some issue Jason couldn’t seem to get under control without a new one popping in. Fall after fall, failure after failure. By the time the whistle rang for them to clear the ice, Jason’s knees and elbows showed promise of nasty bruises for the next day.

He rushed to get his shoes on, cringing at the sight of his red ankles. Bruce was already waiting for him in the car and the rink was basically empty aside from the Zamboni driver on the ice.

Before he could push out of the locker room, a hand on his shoulder shoved him back in. Jason quickly regained his balance before he looked up to see who it had been.

“What the hell, Dick!” He nearly shrieked, ready to tear into the man. Before his mouth even opened, Dick cut him off.

“Sit down. We need to talk.”

Jason’s expression hardened. His eyes narrowed in on Dick’s equally serious ones.

“I got nothing to say to you.” He tried to go around the man but Dick’s hand fell on his shoulder again and pulled him back.

“Great. That means you’ll be able to listen.”

Jason scoffed, relenting. He sat down on the bench and folded his arms, Dick taking the seat across from him. He raised an eyebrow for the older man to speak.

“I think—you and I— we got off to a bad start,” he began, giving Jason a look before the boy could get out his sarcastic remark, “and there are some things we need to work through.”

“Now, I won’t sugarcoat it, Jason. I don’t like you, I don’t like that you’re in any part of my life.”

“FYI, just so you know, you’re doing a pretty shit job at ‘working things through.’”

Dick gave him a pointed look before Jason rolled his eyes and zipped it.

“But,” he continued, “you’re also still supposed to be my brother, and it was wrong of me to comment on your progress or why you were adopted. I was just trying to hit you where it hurts and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Jason gaped at him, rushing to school his expression before urging Dick to continue. Clearly, the man still had more to say, what with the way he was nervously picking at his nails.

“About what you said earlier…the, uh, part about staying with Bruce. You- don’t tell me you seriously think you have to fight for a place to live.”

His expression tightened, and Jason had to resist the urge to snarl back a nasty reply.

“Oh, shi- crap. Jason.”

The way Dick was looking at him made Jason want to run away from the whole conversation. Like he felt bad. Like he cared.

The man got up from the bench to kneel in front of Jason.

“If you don’t believe anything else I say, Jay, then you have to believe this. Bruce would never make you fight to stay with him. No matter how long you take, how much you fall or make mistakes, Bruce will never send you away. He won’t kick you out, he won’t make you work for his love, and if you wanted to quit skating altogether, you’d still be his son all the same. Nothing could make him send you away, I promise you that.”

The tears began welling in Jason’s eyes halfway through, and he willed himself not to let them fall. Every word was spoken with the utmost sincerity, and yet…

“Jason,” Dick whispered, heartbroken.

“You don’t know that!” Jason shouted, hands tightly gripping his pants. “You don’t!”

Dick gently placed his hands on Jason’s shoulders, his calm, sad eyes meeting Jason’s frustrated, fearful ones.

“You have a home to stay, Jay. You have a family. One that loves you, and if there’s even the chance Bruce goes crazy and says something, you’ll call me and I’ll take care of it.”

The dam finally broke, and Jason threw himself the rest of the way into Dick’s arms, face burying into his chest. His brother’s arms were quick to wrap around him, fingers passing through Jason’s hair.

“Shh…I know..it’s okay, bud, you’re okay.”

Once the tears were wiped and they both pulled away from the hug, Dick promised him that he’d be there for Jason from then on, that he’d become the big brother that he needed. Jason would hold him to it.

——Junior World Championships, Paris, France——

“An astounding program from 14-year-old debuting skater Jason Todd! A beautifully balanced mix of artistry and elements, we have watched as this young boy has shown us the skating skill that many desire and cannot come to par with. The double Axel was gorgeous! Though, without it being a triple, some wonder if it’ll be enough to guarantee Todd gold.”

In short; it wasn’t. Jason had placed 3rd overall and ran straight to the empty lobby before the medal ceremony. Arms wrapped tightly around himself, Jason nearly slid to the ground before a pair of strong arms wrapped around his frame.

“Jason!”

It was just Dick. Hugging him. After Jason placed third.

“Dick, what-?”

“I’m so so proud of you! That was awesome!” Dick pulled back, excitement turning into confusion upon seeing Jason’s downcast face.

“Jay? What’s wrong?”

He shrugged, lip trembling but no signs of tears to be found.

“I didn’t win. I didn’t have a triple Axel in time. If I could’ve just gotten that jump, I would’ve won!”

Dick sighed, connecting the rest of the pieces. His hands remained on Jason’s shoulders, grounding him.

“Little Wing,” a nickname Dick had given them shortly after their first time getting ice cream after practice together, “do you remember what I told you?”

Jason slowly nodded, hanging his head down and refusing to look back at Dick.

“I know.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “Logically, I know. But I still…”

Dick brushed a hand through Jason’s hair. He understood. You could know something, repeating it over and over in your mind like a mantra that it was the truth, but there would always be something in the back of your mind. An evil voice filling your mind with bearish thoughts and false realities.

“If I say you did amazing, how did you do?”

“…good?”

“No.”

“…amazing.” Jason tried again, head lifting enough for Dick to see his face entirely again.

“Exactly. You did amazing, Jay.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss Jason’s hair.

“Now, come on. You have a medal ceremony coming up and I can’t wait to celebrate with Nachos!”

And when they walked back into the main area, and Bruce threw him into a bone-crushing hug and told Jason how proud he was, maybe he could finally start believing that he did have a home, one where he was loved no matter what.

#batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #batfamily #bruce wayne #dcu #gotham #hurt/comfort #jason todd and dick grayson #figure skating #figure skating au #alternate universe

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foliosriot · 1 year

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every mile further there’s a part of me that slips away (1725 words)

jason todd & dick grayson ao3 if that's what you prefer :)

this is one of the first times jason’s been out of gotham since bosnia. which means it’s been roughly three years since he was beaten and broken with a crowbar at the hand of a madman. time sure does fly.

but when he imagined leaving gotham he didn’t think it would be just him on his motorbike speeding beyond city limits. initially, jason thought he would be leaving with bruce or even dick, leaving the masks behind. leaving all of the spilt blood and guns and fucking trauma in a great big pile throughout the halls of wayne manor. but his hands were still stained red, guns were still strapped to his thigh and hips, and the fucking trauma still clung to every inch of his being.

and as much as he tolerated being back in the clutches of batman, jason’s skin still itched due to his return to gotham as a whole. because what the fuck is he supposed to do — sit back and pretend he doesn’t notice the not-so-subtle caution everyone uses around him? act like the devil on his shoulder isn’t screaming at him 24/7 to kill every single one of his “family”?

no. he can’t pretend or act anymore.

he needed an out, even if it was for a few hours. so here he was, speeding along a dark, desolate highway in the direction of metropolis. he had no intention of actually going. just needed a semblance of direction. or just a semblance of purpose until the motorbike inevitably broke down.

as he drove, jason could feel bits of his soul sloshing off of him. bits of his soul he would never get back now lost to the nighttime and the wind.

although, his soul sure as hell belongs on the outskirts of such a toxic, corrupt shitshow like gotham. his soul is a twisted amalgamation of distrust and jealousy and absolute fucking wrath. it’s black as tar and all-consuming. the thing inside of him is not pleasant; he hasn’t been pleasant since he arose out of the lazarus pit, terror and confusion overriding his senses. even now, years later, he still feels the aftershocks of the otherworldly chasm electrocuting every nerve and cell until he came back. but robin, the boy wonder, did not emerge. something far more sinister and demented had taken that boy’s place.

jason just kept driving. he willed the bike to go faster and faster until the wind was a horrendous whistle battering against his mask.

his thoughts are too loud in the mask. the thoughts reverberate against the mask’s material, shooting right back against his skin and skull. everything hurt. his thoughts were hurtful. his brain . . .

jason todd is fucked up. anyone who’s anyone should know this. jason todd, the infamous red hood, is a shell of a man, whose once lively, energetic spirit was swapped out with a phantom hellbent on revenge. bruce has tried helping. dick has tried helping. roy has tried helping. but none of it is of any use. jason is a lost cause. he has known that from the moment his heart started beating in the contaminated waters of the lazarus pit.

his eyes are stinging, and it isn’t from the wind streaking past him at high speeds. jason recognizes that his body is producing tears that are now sitting heavily atop his bottom lash line. so he grips onto the bike’s handles until he knows his knuckles are deathly white (even though his hands are hidden by gloves) and just keeps driving.

he doesn’t know how long it’s been until the motorbike begins sputtering, signaling it is almost out of fuel. jason grits his teeth but pulls over to the side of the road anyways. he turns off the bike and just sits there for a minute to take in his surroundings.

trees rise high above his head on either side of the lonely road. the night sky is cloudy, except for just a few stars sprinkled in to the hazy black abyss. silence is pulsing in his ears. it makes him want to scream.

jason steps away from his bike, letting it rest on its side instead of propping it up on its kickstand. he heaves out a sigh before hesitantly removing his mask completely.

the cool air hits his face with a force he didn’t expect. but it is more than welcome. the atmosphere of the woods relaxes him as he strolls out onto the asphalt of the road.

his throat feels tight as he stands on the yellow lines. he can feel his adam’s apple bob slightly as he looks to his left then his right. he’s the only one out here, isn’t he? bruce trained him better than this. god, jason can practically hear bruce’s stern voice telling him how he shouldn’t have gone out alone. how he shouldn’t have driven til his motorbike broke down. how he should have fucking said something in the first place instead of bottling everything up.

but that is why he’s even out here. all of the shit bottled up and stuffed deep, deep down inside of him is rattling, begging for an escape. jason can’t let that happen. what’s gonna happen if he does? he’ll die at the hand of the joker for a second time? ra’s al ghul bringing him back with the help of the lazarus pit again but resurrects an irredeemable monster that needs to be put down once and for all? yeah. no, thank you.

jason tightens his fists. he’s breathing heavily, and he knows he can’t fight back these tears much longer.

which is sort of pathetic, isn’t it? jason has got to be the physically strongest out of the entire bat brigade. he’s gone through unspeakable traumas and murdered too many people. he has so much blood on his hands and he has a soul residing in him that should be burning in hell.

but he can’t hold back a few measly teardrops? what kind of soldier is he?

without much else to do, jason crouches down until he’s sitting on the ground. he crosses his legs, stuffing his hands in to the safety of his lap. his eyes still sting. he can’t fight his emotions much longer.

all he’s felt for as long as he has been resurrected is rage. he has so much of it that he doesn’t know what to do. even when he first confronted bruce alongside the joker hadn’t helped. maybe that’s because he hadn’t gotten any sense of closure. the joker still took jason away from bruce. the joker still found the entire situation amusing while bruce was excusing his shtick of not killing the bastard. even after that sick and twisted motherfucker murdered jason in cold blood.

bruce had accepted jason’s death and moved on. bruce had been determined to take down the red hood. but he had not been anywhere concerned about what all of the shit following bosnia had effected jason himself. that sparked a wildfire deep within jason.

jason felt a sliver somewhere inside of him that wanted to get on comms and alert bruce of his whereabouts. but he stopped himself from doing so. bruce would scold him for sure. his other option was contacting dick, which is a much safer option, yes, but dick is fiercely loyal to bruce and would definitely tattle. what other choice does he have?

jason swore to himself as he got on comms and contacted dick, even if it took several minutes due to being in the middle of fucking nowhere.

dick didn’t seem upset or bothered by his brother’s odd request to track him and retrieve him. he had simply said he was on his way, for jason to hold tight.

so jason reluctantly embraced the silence enveloping him and let himself drown in it. he focused on his breathing so he wouldn’t delve into a panic attack, because that is the last thing he needs right now. still, the silence was oddly comforting as he sat by himself. besides, he was miles away from “home”; why wouldn’t he feel just a little bit comfortable?

before jason knew it, a car was approaching. he blearily looked in its direction just in time for the headlights to flicker off. the interior lights switched on as the driver side door opened then slammed shut. footsteps echoed quietly in the night, and paused in front of him.

”jay?”

just the sound of dick’s voice makes jason want to break down. he’s been choking back the tears for a good several hours now, so he deserves to return to gotham dry-eyed.

when jason doesn’t respond dick crouched down next to him carefully.

”jay? you ready to go?” dick asked softly.

jason sighed quietly as he pushed himself to his feet. he wobbled slightly when he stood up straight, but he regained his balance before dick had a chance to steady him.

”go get in the car,” dick instructed in that same soft tone. “i’ll get your bike.”

dick didn’t need to tell him twice. with heavy steps, jason headed for the passenger side door and dropped into the seat as he watched his brother gather the motorbike so he could get it into the backseat of the car. neither of them said anything once dick was seated and driving back towards gotham.

they had been driving for maybe thirty minutes when dick spoke up.

”you should get some sleep, jay,” he said, his voice still that sort of softness only a worried older brother would use for his younger brother. “it’s late. i’ll wake you when we’re home.”

home. that made jason want to scoff. but he was so bone-tired and drained and numb.

”nah, i-i’m fine, dick,” jason insisted, despite his words slurring slightly.

”jason. you were dozing off when i found you.”

”dick, i said i’m fi—“

jason’s words were cut off by a yawn. he could hear his brother chuckle to himself, but he didn’t have the heart or the energy to badger him.

instead of fighting, jason grumbled quietly to himself as he rested his head against the window. it wasn’t the most comfortable position but he’s had worse. plus, he wasn’t sure the last time he was actually able to sleep. he supposed he could take a nap for a few minutes . . .

#dc comics #red hood #jason todd #batfam #batfamily #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd and dick grayson #dc fanfiction #dc fanfic #jason todd fic #title from “night drive” by the all-american rejects #alex! ❪ 𖤐 ❫#alex’s writing! ❪ 𖤐 ❫

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