Chapter Text
Charizard: If you’re free today will you join me for breakfast? I have some news you should hear.
The text came through at 5am Monday morning. She stared at it, surprised to hear from him by text. He’d never texted her before. And they hadn’t talked since the bar a week and a half ago.
Which had given her some time to figure out her emotions and talk to a therapist a couple times. Going back to work had helped Joy refocus on her life as well. She felt more stable than she had since first meeting Red.
What a wild couple of months.
She was in love with The Red Hood. She acknowledged that, and had pulled apart the emotions she experienced surrounding him carefully.
That first night she’d seen him in the hospital it had just been fear and uncertainty - everyone had heard of him and knew a little bit of his methods from the news or people that came into the ER needing treatment, but they didn’t know his goals yet. When new players showed up in Gotham it was the lack of knowledge that got most people killed. If Penguin was running amok a bit of praise and respect could save your ass. If Clayface was robbing a place you kept your head down and did not mention his acting career even if you were a legit fan of his works. And Poison Ivy just wanted to save the natural world, so cleaning up litter around Robinson Park and keeping a balcony garden was usually enough to spare you.
Red Hood was an unknown. Until they got more knowledge anything might set him off.
But then he’d willingly announced he was Robin’s brother. No one in the hospital knew how to take that. Of course everyone agreed to keep it secret from the inevitable cop investigation, but rumors flew while he was keeping an eye on the surgeons. Brothers on opposite sides of the law was common enough in their crime-ridden city, but this was heroes and villains in the same family! Were they fighting each other and it got out of hand? But if that was the case why would he bring in Robin for care instead of Batman? Where was Batman? Did he know Robin almost died? What did he think of his other son being a drug lord? It was weird enough that they had Robin in the operating theater at all - the vigilantes never used a public hospital. They obviously got hurt a lot, but whatever they did to treat the wounds was done in private. Probably done by other heroes on that space station fortress they owned.
Everyone had an opinion or question to add to the pile, Joy included, but she was the first one to point out: He never said no one could leave. We aren’t being held hostage. The rest of the night staff looked at her for a second before three of them ran for the door. The floor manager gave her a dirty look as if abandoning their posts was her fault, so she flipped him off and went back to her rounds. That move earned her a spot on the overtime list.
Which meant she was still there when Robin got out of surgery and placed in a private recovery room. She’d spent most of the night wondering about Red Hood and Robin, after cursing her manager under her breath for an hour. The tvs in a few waiting rooms were tuned to local news, and she’d seen coverage about the warehouse explosion. When the EMTs brought Robin in, he and Red Hood were both covered in so much dust and dirt it was obvious he’d dug his little brother out of the debris. What must that be like? If anything happened to Rhap it would destroy her.
Thoughts of the two were still racing through her head when she finally got a moment to sit down and eat, and that’s when she got curious if anyone had given Red any food yet. It had been nearly a full day, and if she was starving he must be too.
How would she even approach him? This new masked villain had shown up in Gotham three months ago and already made a name for himself. The fact no one had killed him yet for invading their territory was proof of terrifying skills and tactics. Black Mask had certainly tried. Every hospital in the city had a bad month treating the aftereffects of their firefights.
But in that time he’d also killed an astonishing number of people not connected to the local gangs. When she saw the obituary of her own abuser amid the gang wars she nearly had a breakdown, and had to hide in the bathroom to cry from relief. That monster was dead and couldn’t hurt her anymore. Not that he’d touched her in over a decade but he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore! Joy had done everything she could as a teenager to report him as a sex offender, a pedophile, but Gotham cops didn’t care. What they did care about was her brother threatening to kill him - that almost landed Rhap in jail - but it was her parents threatening to sue the police department for racism and misconduct that got them to grudgingly file a restraining order and put him on the registry of sex offenders.
The Red Hood killed him and exposed his distribution of child porn. She hadn’t known about that part of his repulsive life, and she’d spent the last month sick every time she thought about it. Joy had never felt grateful to a killer before, but suddenly she was planning to offer him a meal.
Staring down the barrel of a gun was expected when she entered the recovery room, but… then he laughed. And he was polite. And honest. And sorry for her past pains. And he only wanted his brother to be okay. (And honestly? Seeing him lean back in that chair and rest a gun on his massive thigh while speaking kindly was a real turn on, so yeah, she slipped him her number. It was near the end of a double shift and she was tired and he a mountain of muscle in armor, sue her.)
Then he never stopped being kind. Over the next two months she kept seeing the same strong willed, compassionate, friendly young man go out of his way to help others. She knew what the news outlets said about him; the sensationalist way they reported on the people he continued to kill or maim. But they didn’t know him. His motives. His heart. He wasn’t the first criminal she’d fallen for either. This was Gotham. People had rough lives, usually not of their own choosing.
And now here he was, texting her at 5am and inviting her to breakfast. What kind of news did he need to share in-person rather than just call?
Joy: Good or bad news? If it’s urgent you can call.
Charizard: Didn’t know if you were awake. It’s not urgent today but it will be by the weekend and I wanted to give you a heads-up before news hits the papers.
Charizard: Good or bad depends on your perspective.
Charizard: B is pretty happy about it. His lawyers were throwing fits. And pens. I saw one get stuck in the wall. I’m on the fence about it but I’ve got a good view of the chaos from up here so at least I can have fun watching the show until my feet hit the ground.
What kind of mess had he got himself into this time? Or created. If he’d been caught that would be bad news. She couldn’t think of something good that involved lawyers and newspapers. But… he didn’t sound upset, so that was something.
Joy: Okay. Breakfast it is. Where should I meet you?
Charizard: I’m craving waffles. Syrup Trap is near you and opens in a hour. Sound good?
Joy: See you there.
She was halfway through a cup of coffee when the roar of his bike finally came around the corner. He parked right against the building’s window and pulled his helmet off - he wasn’t hiding the white streak today, that was a surprise - and then he took off his riding jacket
and
her
brain
stopped.
Arms. Arms on full display.
He was wearing a band shirt with the sleeves cut off, and those arms were… wow. Somehow they looked more impressive bare than in form-fitted Kevlar.
And not wanting to hide the vitiligo on his face made sense now. There were speckles and irregular patches all up his arms, especially around his elbows and hands. It was beautiful against his tan skin.
The bell above the door jingled as he stepped through and Joy hurriedly took a large gulp of her coffee to hide her face and give herself an excuse to close her eyes. To refocus.
“Sorry for running late,” he said instead of a traditional greeting as he placed the jacket and helmet on the bench beside him, sliding into the booth. “Had to shake a tail.”
Joy jolted and set the mug down a little too hard, thoroughly distracted. Her eyes darted around the small restaurant and out the large front window, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
“Are we safe here? It’s kinda public.”
Just because it wasn’t on a main street didn’t mean it was empty. Syrup Trap was small but got a lot of foot traffic, and while she knew Gotham business owners all planned for vigilante damage, that didn’t mean she wanted to encourage it or put people in danger by meeting here. Red just snorted and shook his head.
“No danger. Just a nosy brother.”
“Shit, don’t scare me like that!” she slumped back in her seat. “I do not need another Rogue attack so soon.”
“Ung yeah,” he pulled a face and stuck out his tongue. “That was a disaster. I’ll be carrying extra gas masks from now on.”
“Smart,” she mumbled just as the server walked up, taking note of the they/them pin on the apron.
“Good morning! My name is Parker. What can I getcha today?”
“Can I have the Second Breakfast and the Leslie Knope?” Red hadn’t even looked at the menu. “And a large orange juice.”
They nodded, writing it down on a little pad of paper, then looked at Joy expectantly.
“Oh. Um, this one please,” she pointed at the menu, and accepted the offer of a refill before they left.
“You eat here enough to have the menu memorized?” she asked Red. Each waffle flavor had a themed name from a show or movie. It was cute, but she’d never tried to memorize them.
“You bet your ass I do! Best waffles I ever ate in my life.”
“First or second life?” she tried not to smirk from behind her coffee cup.
Red let out a surprised bark of laughter and covered his mouth to stifle it when a couple across the room glanced up at the sound. He couldn’t hide how his eyes sparkled and his shoulders shook.
“Both of ‘em,” he answered after a moment. “You know, usually I’m the one making death jokes. My family hates it.”
“I’m sure that doesn’t stop you,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“You are very right about that,” he chuckled. “You should see the look on B’s face though. Worth it every time.”
“B is the guy loaning you lawyers for this upcoming event, right? Not sure why you’d antagonize someone like that. Kinda surprised you don’t have an army of your own, too.”
He gave her a strange look, then said, “B isn’t just some guy, he’s my dad.”
Joy froze for a second. Then buried her face in her arms crossed on the table.
“Why didn’t I catch that?” she groaned, “It makes perfect sense. You just use the first letter to talk about him in public.”
Red was laughing at her.
“It makes more sense than you think. His first name also starts with a B.”
Joy’s head shot up to stare in open-mouth shock. She tried to speak but all that came out was a stuttering of sounds. He laughed harder.
“I can’t know that!!” she whisper screamed. What happened to keeping his personal life secret? Batman’s identity wasn’t something she should have any clues about!
He shrugged and waved a hand, “You’re about to learn a whole lot more. This weekend is going to change a lot of things and I thought it’d be polite of me to warn you so you don’t have a heart attack at work. Although, a hospital is the best place you could have a heart attack.”
He’d told her it wasn’t bad news, but a pit formed in her stomach anyway. Knowing even a little about his life could put her in danger. Did she want to learn more about Red and his family?
Yes, the part of her that was in love nodded.
No, the part of her that was already building walls hissed.
The more knowledge we have the safer we are, the part of her that was a scared child whispered.
Joy took a deep breath.
“Okay just crack the egg,” she looked up at him. “What’s going down this weekend?”
“I’m being legally resurrected.”
“Oh.”
It was surprising that he hadn’t been already, but needing lawyers made sense now. And not having any of his own despite being involved with so much illegal commerce. It must be a complicated process to undo a death certificate and authenticate a person’s identity to make sure they weren’t a fraud. The background checks alone would be cause for concern in his situation.
“So…” her face scrunched in thought, “I get why you’d need lawyers for that, but why are you convinced this’ll change everything? Legal resurrection is rare, but not unheard of - especially with people sometimes going missing during Rogue attacks that show up weeks later - so I don’t get why you think the news outlets would care so much. Unless this has something to do with your nightlife? Please say you’re not going to get caught out by doing this.”
“If it put my work at risk I wouldn’t have agreed to it,” Red snorted, then sighed. “No, my family has practice keeping our day and night shifts separate, but we’re used to getting attention for both. This is gonna be a lot of attention and I’m not looking forward to it but it’ll make my life easier in the long run.”
“You're telling me,” Joy said slowly as her mind finally caught up enough to click puzzle pieces together, “That when your face shows up in the news this weekend… I’m going to not just learn your legal name, but recognize your whole family?”
He gave her a tight lipped smile.
“Yeah. Sorry. I never intended to get you so involved and if you wanna back out that promise of privacy is still on the table.”
“No! No, I uh,” the idea of never seeing him again wrenched her heart. “I just know you’re so careful about your identity I never expected to learn it.”
“Well then let me introduce myself properly,” he held out a hand, and she took it before she could get too nervous. It was rough with callouses and cooler to the touch than expected. “My name is Jason Peter Todd Wayne.”
Huh. Jason.
It was a simple, common name. But a strong one too. Not that she expected anything strange or old fashioned. It suited him.
“It’s nice to meet you Jason Way- ”
She froze.
Wayne.
Motherfucking WAYNE!!!
B… Bruce Wayne was Batman. The face she saw smiling listlessly on tabloid magazines at the grocery store checkout stand was the same face that hid behind a bat mask and soulless white lenses with a scowl that scared her shitless. The local himbo billionaire was one of the smartest people on Earth who regularly punched villains and fought galactic tyrants alongside gods and aliens.
And the kids he adopted were his Robins. The first Robin was that boy from the circus accident. That made a lot of sense with the level of acrobatics he displayed in his fighting style. What was his name? Richard. Wait, he preferred a nickname. Rick? No it was definitely Dick. She remembered wondering how much he got bullied for it, and why he’d want to keep the outdated version of his name. Joy didn’t keep track of celebrities outside of work gossip (she only knew that much about Dick Greyson because he was a year older than her and half her High School crushed on him) but now she felt the need to do some serious studying to not make a fool of herself next time she met anyone from Red’s- Jason’s family.
Fuck, she was going to have to keep names straight too. Couldn’t go calling Dick by Nightwing during the day. Or the current Robin… she didn’t know the kid’s name, but she remembered hearing about how Mr. Wayne adopted his neighbor when the father got murdered by Captain Boomerang. (Did the Rogue know their civilian identities and target Robin’s family on purpose, or was it coincidence?)
Now it felt like a major flaw that she never paid attention to heroes and celebrities. But… how much of gossip was true anyway? Nothing the news anchors speculated about Red- Jason was true, and tabloids were a bunch of gibberish made to sell copies, and while there were a couple newspapers she trusted, Joy was never one to sit down and read them fully. Didn’t have the time.
And no wonder Batman was willing to pay her and Rhap’s rent for a couple months!! Bruce Wayne threw money around the city like confetti! He tipped baristas hundred dollar bills, paid off student loan debt for anyone who tagged him on Twitter, and funded road repair efforts constantly. That last one made more sense now that she knew he was directly responsible for a good portion of the potholes around town; the Batmobile was cool but it did a lot of damage.
And holy shit Batman paid for her med school too!! Without the Thomas Wayne Medical Scholarship she wouldn’t have made it through college. Her family couldn’t take out loans to support her, so it had been a literal life-changer to win that scholarship.
“Uhhh, is your friend okay?”
Joy’s head snapped up to stare at their server with wide eyes. She’d completely disappeared into her mind.
Re- Jason was still holding her hand but now it was resting on the table and he was rubbing circles on the back with his thumb.
She opened her mouth to say yes I’m okay but had to clear her throat instead.
“She’ll be fine in a minute,” Jason smiled at them reassuringly. “I’m just sharing family drama and hit her with a doozy.”
“Oof, I can relate,” Parker said while setting plates of warm waffles and fruit on the table. “Just found out my 17 year old sister is pregnant and the guy skipped town.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed and his hand stilled under hers.
“Where did he go?”
“Dunno,” they shrugged and finished unloading the drinks onto the table. “But who needs him, eh? If he don’t want to be a father that bad she’s better off without him. I’ll take care of her.”
He gave a dissatisfied hum and pulled his hand away from hers to take out his wallet. Joy quickly clasped her hands under the table, wringing them together to give herself something physical to focus on.
“Here,” he handed their server a card, “I run a charity that takes care of single mothers. We can help with medical decisions and costs. If she wants to keep the kid we’ll cover everything from the first ultrasound to the first vaccinations. After that each case gets reviewed to see if you need further assistance.”
Parker gushed thanks as Jason waved it off, and left announcing they were going to take a quick break to call their sister immediately.
“Now I know how you can be so generous,” Joy said into the new quiet.
“Meh,” he shrugged and started cutting up a waffle covered in brie, prosciutto, and grilled pear. “It’s easy to be generous when you have a lot.”
“No it’s not.”
His fork paused halfway to his mouth. He looked surprised and confused.
“If it were easy, or came naturally to most people,” Joy explained, picking up her own utensils, “There would never be billionaires. No Jeff Bezoses or Lex Luthors hoarding wealth and exploiting workers. No elite class that cares more about appearances and parties than the homeless they step over in front of the theater. The world would be a kinder place if there were less of them and more of you. You’re special, Jason.”
She shoved a bite of blueberry waffle and lemon curd in her mouth and waited for the expected witty comeback - and didn’t get one. Joy looked up to see him also slowly chewing his food, looking down at his plate. But…
“You’re blushing,” she said out loud, more from surprise than wanting to call attention to it. This only made the blush darker as his shoulders hunched up. It was really cute, but she also felt a little smug satisfaction. “Ahh, sweet payback.”
“Payback for what?” his eyes got big and his mouth fell open just a little. He looked like a kicked puppy and that should be illegal. He was way too pretty for this to be fair.
“For what you said when you were drunk,” she muttered, shoving more food in her mouth to avoid those eyes.
“I never drunk dialed you,” he said with true bafflement. “My phone history would’ve said.”
“The night of Scarecrow’s attack?” she raised an eyebrow.
Jason went still.
His breathing hitched, he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. She watched with concern as he took several slow deep breaths. Was he fighting a panic attack? Should she say something?
“Joy?” he opened his eyes and they held an alarming amount of dread. “Please tell me I did not show up at your apartment blackout drunk that night.”
“Oh! No! Hon,” she snorted and had to cover her mouth to stifle the giggles. Jason looked like he didn’t know if he should be worried or offended. “I found you at the bar. You were dead asleep and when I woke you up you started reciting Shakespeare at me and rolling around on the floor. It was embarrassing, that’s all.”
He didn’t look relieved.
“I didn’t do anything… unwelcome?”
She smiled at him, “No. Nothing inappropriate. Although, you should go back and apologize to Carlos for punching him in your sleep. You got a couple customers too, before I showed up.”
“Ah fuck,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up in all directions.
“You really don’t remember anything?”
“I didn’t think I missed much,” he mumbled, poking at the mountain of strawberries on his plate. “Just went for a drink -”
“After spying on me,” she cut in. He winced, and looked up at her sideways. She smirked and speared one of his strawberries to eat, “Yeah you told me about that. Don’t worry I already forgave you.”
He huffed, the blush lingering.
“I’m not gonna tell you how to live,” she said, and his eyes finally met hers, “But if blackouts are a common problem, you could tell the bartender you have a limit before you start. A lot of my friends regulate themselves that way.”
“That’s a decent plan,” Jason nodded slowly, taking another bite off his own plate.
“Honestly though? I’m just surprised you’re a happy drunk. Didn’t expect that from someone who punches people in their sleep.”
He snorted.
“I got enough anger issues sober. If drinking didn’t calm me down I wouldn’t drink at all. I used to smoke but I can’t do that anymore without having a panic attack. Kinda defeats the purpose.” Then he shrugged, “And punching people’s just a habit leftover from living on the streets. Wouldn’ta survived if I couldn’t protect myself while vulnerable.”
It was Joy’s turn to go still.
“You were homeless?”
She knew he had a rough childhood. She hadn’t forgotten how Robin compared him to Charmander, who got abandoned. She thought maybe he’d been in the foster system before Batman adopted him.
“Yeah,” he responded casually, talking around a full mouth, “My father, Willis - now he was an angry drunk - he was in and out of prison and died there, then mom died of an overdose when I was ten. Lived on the street ‘til I was thirteen. That’s when I ran into B.”
Three years on the street. Starting at ten. Calling that a rough childhood was a gross understatement. Joy couldn’t imagine surviving that.
Jason laughed. Her head shot up to stare at his wide smile. Here she was getting her heart wrung out imagining him as a child huddling in a cardboard box in the rain starving to death, and he was laughing?
“More like I was trying to run from B,” he chuckled, looking nostalgic. “Caught me trying to boost his tires. I almost had the third off when he showed up. But instead of smacking me around like any other grown up, he bought me a bag of burgers and we had a chat. Decided to keep the feral kid. Gave me a home…”
His words got quiet and drifted off as his face fell.
“That’s all gonna get rehashed in the news. Every media outlet is gonna have my scruffy baby face on screen, speculating why I ran away. How I died. If I died or if it was all a coverup to save face from some scandal,” he ran a hand through his hair again. “I hate this attention. Paparazzi are worse than literal torture.”
“Hey,” she whispered and gave him a pacifying look. He took a deep breath and she nodded at him. “I can see why you’re on the fence. You sure you want this?”
“Yeah,” he sighed with a half smile. “It’s the right choice. Had a real long chat with my therapist about it and -”
Joy inhaled a blueberry.
It took two seconds of not being able to breathe but she coughed it back out just as Jason half-stood, panic all over his face and hands raised to help. She waved at him to sit back down as she covered her mouth with a napkin to finish coughing and get her breathing right.
“Shit, don’t going dying on me.”
“Don’t worry,” she wheezed, “I’m not stealing your gig.”
That made him cackle and slap the table. The silverware jumped, clattering on their plates and attracting looks from around the room, and a big smile from Parker as they served other guests. They laughed together for a long minute before settling down, and Joy said, “Sorry, sorry, it’s just… you - you have a therapist? You.”
“It was even my idea,” he grinned. “Had to trick B into going, but my brothers agreed easily enough, so we all - oh,” he looked sideways at his jacket on the bench and dug into a pocket, pulling out a buzzing phone.
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” he mumbled and hit accept. “Hey Dickie, tell me this isn’t an emergency.”
Joy watched as his face went from jovial to frustrated.
“How do you lose a whole-ass seven year old? …No, I don’t care who raised him, who raised you?! You’ve had twice the years of training he’s had of life! …Yes I’m calling you old.”
His free hand came up to massage the side of his head, then he looked up at Joy with a frown before pulling the phone away from his ear.
“Please excuse me for a moment, I’m going to take this call outside so I can yell at this idiot properly.”
“Do you need help finding a little kid?” Joy asked, worried.
“No, he’ll show up eventually,” he sighed, exasperated, “Damian was raised by the Shadows. He’s not the one I’m worried about.”
As Jason stood to walk out front door she heard him ask, “Did you check the attic? He likes dark places when he gets overstimulated. …Yeah just like B.”
I’m not even going to question that, she thought as the door chimed.
In fact there was a lot she was going to ignore for her peace of mind. Like how Batman was in therapy. With his drug lord son. Who wasn’t joking when he stated the paparazzi were worse than torture. And that he’d tried to steal the Batmobile’s tires. While starving and homeless.
She knew his life was nuts but the last hour had given her more insight to the truth of that statement than ever expected.
Jason was pacing in front of the shop window, throwing his free hand around in large gestures and pointing at no one as he argued with his brother about the missing kid. What kind of shadow child would Nightwing be babysitting anyway? There were lots of super-powered people in the world, and he’d grown up with most of them, especially the Teen Titans. They were all old enough to have kids now, maybe it was one of theirs. What a strange thought.
“Ahem.”
Joy yelped and hit her knee on the underside of the table as she jumped.
There was a little kid sitting in the booth across from her. She hadn’t even noticed them walk over! Maybe it was because she’d been watching Jason, or maybe it was because they were barely tall enough for their chin to be seen over the table.
“Um, hello,” she said, rubbing at her knee and glancing around the restaurant. There didn’t seem to be any family groups looking for a kid. “Did you lose your grown-ups, hon? Can I help you find them?”
“I know precisely where my guardians are, and will not require your assistance returning to them,” the kid responded in a clipped tone, with an accent that she couldn’t place but definitely wasn’t native to Gotham. This child appeared out of nowhere, looked like a seven year old boy, and the timing could not be coincidence.
“Is your name Damian?” she asked warily, with another glance out the window to see Jason’s back facing them. She didn’t know what raised by the shadows meant, but the implication had been that he was dangerous.
“Yes,” he said, “And you are Joy Kanzaki.”
Great, the shadow kid knows my name.
“And, uh, do you know your guardians are looking for you? It sounds like they’re worried,” she nodded toward where the flailing was getting more agitated. The kid didn’t look. His eyes stayed locked on her. They were a deep green that stood out against skin almost as dark as hers.
“They are not my concern at the moment. You are.”
Why was she getting chills from a seven year old?! Sure, age didn’t mean much when it came to super powers - he could have any sort of strange abilities with any level of control over them - but this boy was small enough she could carry him under her arm like a football!
“Kanzaki,” he knelt up on the bench, palms on the table to lean forward with a serious face, “What are your intentions toward Jason Todd?”
Her eyebrows scrunched together and her mouth fell open. She raised a hand to point, then thought better of it and covered her mouth.
Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh children hate it when you laugh while they’re being serious. And he might banish you to the shadow realm if you offend him.
Joy had figured out her emotions surrounding Red. She now had a lot more to sift through about Jason, even if her plans stayed the same. How could she summarize them well enough for this unsettling little boy to accept without repercussions?
This boy who was likely attempting a shovel talk.
Don’t laugh don’t laugh. This is hilariously cute but he’s dangerous.
Joy cleared her throat, schooled her face, and answered in a serious tone, “Well Damian, I hold Jason in very high regard. I respect the work he’s doing to help Gotham become a safer place, and think he’s the kindest person I’ve ever met.”
He clicked his tongue in disapproval. It was strange to see so much disgust on such a young face.
“That is nowhere near the level of commitment I expected.”
“What did you expect?” she asked carefully.
“Admiration can be won by any do-gooder,” he sneered. “I am looking for trust.”
That took her off guard. He was serious, and had quite the vocabulary, but he was still a kid. She thought he’d ask about love and romance. When she was seven she’d giggle and blush over just holding hands, much less adult relationships.
“But I do trust him,” she said, a little confused. “And not just with my life but with my brother’s. When Rhap was in danger I knew R- Jason would bring him home. He’s the first one I thought to call.”
“Hm,” Damian looked a little placated, and sat down on the bench again.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” he narrowed his eyes.
“I get the feeling you don’t trust a lot of people. Do you trust Jason?”
“As far as I can throw him,” the kid shrugged.
Joy couldn’t help grinning, “I’m assuming that’s much farther than most seven year olds?”
His returning grin could only be described as devilish. He studied her face for a moment, before saying, “You show promise. We’ll have to speak more at the gala.”
“Uh. What gala?”
It was gratifying to earn a little respect from the kid, but she was lost. Jason hadn’t mentioned a gala. Right? Had he been talking when she was spaced out? That didn’t seem like him.
“Tt,” Damian clicked his tongue again, rolling his eyes, then stood up on the bench and turned around to face the door before screaming, “TODD!!”
She wasn’t the only one in the restaurant to jump at the high pitched noise. The few customers and staff scattered around the room turned to stare with shock or worry. Jason had been pacing again but whipped around with his mouth on the ground for half a second before bursting through the door.
“What the hell Damian?!!” he shouted right back. “You can’t just leave the house without telling anyone where you’re going! Everyone’s been looking for you! And how the fuck did you even get here?!”
A couple patrons gasped as they watched this grown man swear at a child, and looked ready to fight. Damian, however, looked thoroughly unimpressed and just raised an eyebrow.
“Uber.”
Joy had to cough to hide a laugh. She wasn’t the only one. Jason closed his eyes and took a slow breath, forcing his shoulders down to relax.
“I know you’re used to traveling freely in your community,” he said slowly, walking over, “But this is Gotham. It’s dangerous in a completely different way than you’re used to. You’ve been here less than a month and don’t know the city that well yet. Please don’t wander off alone.”
Damian shrugged and sat down. Jason sighed and waved a dismissive hand at the people still staring, “Go back to your meals folks. My brother’s just being a little demon, as usual.”
The people went back to their food but Joy’s mind was fritzing again.
Brother?? Little demon??
Had Batman adopted another kid? And this had to be the same little demon that wanted to help save her brother when she called - this seven year old owned a sword?! Okay maybe that wasn’t the most outlandish thing she could expect from one of Batman’s kids, but it still felt ridiculous.
Jason slumped down behind the table next to Damian, pulling his phone back up to his face. “You still there? …Yeah, call off the search party he’s with me. Get Wally out of town before B notices. …We’re at Syrup Trap. …No, do not come here,” he hung up and gave the boy a tired glance before shoving a whole strawberry in his mouth. “What are you doing here Damian?”
“Threat assessment,” the kid answered, eyes flicking to Joy and back.
“And what is your conclusion?” he rolled his eyes at Joy and raised his eyebrows as if to say can you believe this?
“That you are a coward.”
Jason coughed but quickly swallowed his food as he waved his hands around, palms up, in the universal sign of what the fuck, dude?!
Damian pointed at Joy accusingly and said, “You haven’t asked Kanzaki out yet.”
Joy went still and stopped breathing. Jason buried his face in his hands, elbows on the table and sighed.
“Kid,” the words were muffled behind his hands, “You need to learn some social boundaries. What I do in my personal relationships is not your business.”
“It is,” Damian insisted. “You are telling her secrets. I am part of those secrets, so it affects me. That’s why I’m here to assess her threat level. If there were others I would be visiting them as well, but you told me she’s the only one you wanted to invite to the gala.”
“Please stop talking.”
Jason’s face was bright red behind his hands; it was starkly obvious on his vitiligo patches.
“I think I should talk instead,” Joy spoke up, fidgeting with her hands on the table. Both brothers looked up at her.
“I have a rule about who I date. It’s really important to me, and…” why was her gut twisting? She’d rehearsed this and shouldn’t be so nervous. “Well, I don’t date teenagers, and you’re only eighteen.”
“Nineteen,” Jason mumbled, looking down at his near-empty plates and fidgeting as well. He looked so disappointed it hurt. “Birthday was the sixteenth last week. But I get it. It’s okay.”
“Hey,” she whispered, and held her hand out on the table. He clasped his hands together and didn’t look up. She pulled her hand back, heart pinched.
“I want you to know that’s my only holdup,” she said. “I am very interested in a relationship with you, and if you still want to ask me in a year, I’ll say yes.”
“…Really?” he glanced up through his eyelashes.
“Really,” she smiled sweetly at him, and his lips twitched up a little in response.
“Well that’s dumb,” Damian ruined the moment.
Jason’s head whipped sideways fast enough to crack, and he glared at his little brother.
“I will stab you.”
“As if you could,” the boy scoffed. He turned to Joy, who was a bit stunned by the exchange. “I do not mean to say your rule is wrong. Mother taught me that setting boundaries for yourself is important and keeping them shows strength. But you do not have to be in a romantic relationship to be his plus-one. The gala is in two weeks and is a celebration of Todd’s resurrection and my introduction to society as a Wayne. The event will be announced this Saturday along with the knowledge of our existence. He wants you there to celebrate life with him.”
Joy had to bite the inside of her lip and blink a couple times.
“Okay.”
The word came out a bit wobbly, and she quietly cleared her throat. Jason’s eyes flicked between them and around the room as if he was missing something.
“Wait. What?”
“The shadow kid made some good points,” she shrugged. Then laughed. “He makes a pretty good wingman too.”
Jason looked over at his little brother, eyebrows still scrunched together. Damian looked up at Jason like he was staring at a particularly dense cat who kept getting its head stuck in the treat jar.
“I got you a date,” he said in monotone. “You owe me a favor.”
“You…” he turned to Joy with large eyes, “Are you really comfortable with this?”
She let out a huff of a laugh, and smiled widely.
“Yeah. I’ll be your platonic plus-one.”
His returning smile lit up the room.