Chapter Text
Summer passed by with no significant encounter with anyone of note, just the way I liked it, boring, mundane, and peaceful. Life in Gotham had the usual stories of kidnappings, a mass outbreak of laughing gas, and the underground subways getting flooded, again. The news channels would go crazy when heroes from other cities would show up from time to time. Grandma goes all heart eyes whenever Wonder Woman stops by. I asked her once why she favored Wonder Woman over the rest of the Justice League, and in her words, “She isn’t afraid to play with big boys. She’s an inspiration!” Then she would go on about how her outfit was too revealing and that she should ditch the heels.
I didn’t care about any of them. I just wanted to go to school and worry about the normal stuff, but (Y/n) wouldn’t let me. She’s become a huge Robin fan girl since the winter mall nightmare. It was pretty crazy how she went from worrying about Jason, our friend since childhood, then completely switched to worrying about Robin, the boy wonder 2.0. Over the summer, (Y/n) started to wear green and yellow, and a red R pin that Jason gave her. He thinks her fascination with Robin was hilarious.
“-and on top of that, I heard,” Jason hopped on a bench, “Robin then kicked Killer Croc right in the face, or- er- snout? Yeah!”
He then jumped off the bench trying to mimic said kick and almost hit me. (Y/n) leaned against a bus stop sign, hanging onto every word. I rolled my eyes.
“Where do you get all of these stories?” I shook my head.
“What? It’s Gotham and people talk,” he grinned, “you just need to know who to listen to.”
(Y/n) absently played with her pin, “Jason, how come you don’t go to school with us?”
His grin dropped, “because Bruce prefers that I’m homeschooled.”
“I thought having a super rich dad would be fun, but he seems so lame,” (Y/n) pouted.
“Lame? Sure, let’s go with that,” Jason laughed.
He continued his story about Batman and Robin helping subway passengers escape the jaws of Killer Croc until our bus showed up. (Y/n) gave him a quick hug before going on and I waved goodbye. That was our routine in the mornings. I’m not sure why, but he always showed up early with a new story that not even the newspapers had reported on. (Y/n) said it was because he was so busy for most of the day that he could only talk to us in the mornings.
Sometimes, there were mornings when he didn’t show up at all, and we tried to not worry but how could we not? Jason had a habit of showing up the following mornings with shades that hide a bruise that neither (Y/n) and I asked about, those mornings were typically quiet and awkward. (Y/n) would give him a hug that was a bit tighter and lasted longer, I guess that was her way of telling him it was going to be ok. I would lay a hand on his shoulder and whisper that Grandma still makes an extra bowl of food for him.
He’d only nod.
Those mornings made me question if having Mr.Wayne as a dad was as great as everyone thought it was. Being a billionaire's son sure had a lot of strings attached to it.
— — —
Minding my own business, I jotted down notes and skimmed through my textbook when (Y/n) slammed a piece of paper in front of me. I nearly fell out of my chair.
“Why?!” I held my hand to my chest.
“Hm? Oh! Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you Char, but lookie, look!”
(Y/n) pointed to a poster with ghosts and ghouls plastered all over it. The words ‘Gotham High School Homecoming Dance!’ scrolled across the top with the date of the dance, pricing and that year's theme of Thriller.
“I don’t remember seeing that on the ballot,” I frowned.
“I do and I voted for it!” She pointed to the bottom, “see the fine print? It says we can bring outside guests as long as their guardians and the school signs a waiver!”
I sighed and she whined, “oh come on it’s worth a shot! A girl can dream can’t she?”
“What? You want to invite Robin to our school dance?” It was a cheap shot but it was all I had.
She gasped and smacked my pencil bag over the table.
“Oh no,” I said with a monotone voice, “not my pencils, how could you?”
“Why do you have to make fun of me?
“Because it’s easy.”
She narrowed her eyes, “don’t think I have seen you looking up news reports from Star City.”
I started to laugh nervously, “w-what?! Why would I ever care for a city on the west coast? Sh-shut up.”
(Y/n) let out a smug ‘Uhm-hmm.’
She spent the following week asking various teachers about the paperwork needed for inviting ‘homeschooled’ kids to our dances. (Y/n) was determined to have everything prepared to make the process as easy as possible. All she had left to do was to actually ask Jason to go. It was almost embarrassing to see her work up to it in the mornings only to be interrupted by the bus arriving early or other teens being, well, teens.
She’s lucky that most of the other girls at our stop see Jason as a scrappy street rat. He would never wear designer clothing like Mr. Wayne, instead, he wore dark jeans and a clean hoodie. His hair was messy as ever and he had an air of arrogance that any Gothumite knew to stay away from. Most. Sometimes we would have some guys that couldn’t pick up on (Y/n)’s subtle niceties.
“Fuck off, James.”
Did I say subtle? I meant blunt.
“Damn, bitch, you don’t have to be so rude!” James, a teen in his Sophomore year, was relentless. He kept looming over (Y/n) and looked down at her through his dirty blonde hair.
To (Y/n) credit, besides being a huge Robin Stan, she was never going to give another boy the time of day. She shot him a dirty look and ‘tsk’. I stepped in between them, trying to give her the distance she wanted and needed.
“James, you should know when a girl isn’t interested,” I used my body to push him back.
He didn’t like that.
He grabbed my coat, and my feet dangled as he lifted me to his level. Wow, he was tall. His strings unfurled as I looked him in the eyes. Should I grab one? No, grandma would scold me for using the strings in any way other than readings, which blows. I could have him in tears if I grabbed the first one. I could equally have him pissing his pants from laughter.
As I contemplated the morality of the Strings of Fate, James dropped me and was falling over whoever kicked the back of his knees. He recovered quickly by grabbing the side of a bench and managed not to smack his head on the cement. He scrambled to his feet and posted up to the boy that knocked him down. The boy wasn’t any bigger than I was, but he didn’t back down from James charging him. He simply tripped him again. This really pissed James off and he got hold of the boy's hoodie and pulled him in. The boy let gravity do most of the work, he nailed James' face with his elbow and then continued to repetitively smash his face.
I didn’t know what to do. I’ve never seen Jason so pissed off before. (Y/n) surged past me to pull Jason off of the poor unsuspecting James. He wasn’t expecting to get jumped by a Crime Alley rat. James' eyes were wide in fear and his hands covered his broken nose. Blood streamed down his face and dripped onto his shirt. He slowly backed away from our group. (Y/n) was holding Jason's fists and kept her face in his.
She would repeat herself, “it’s over. Stop Jason. You won, let him go.”
Jason hung his head and when he finally met her gaze, he hugged her. I could see that it was crushing her but she didn’t stop him. Just as fast as he showed up, Jason disappeared leaving everyone at the stop slightly confused and scared.
We spent the rest of the week waiting for him to show up but he didn’t. Two weeks passed and nothing. (Y/n) was starting to get antsy, the dance was only a few days away, and still no sign of her knight in a red hoodie. She’s gotten so stressed out that she started to see Robin on the rooftops and on street lamps, or so she says.
“(Y/n), why not try calling the manor?” I suggested one morning.
“Wait, You can do that?”
“I mean, why not?” I shrugged.
“Because they're famous and stuff…” even though she didn’t seem to be convinced she pulled out her phone and gave it a shot.
Her face rapidly changed emotions throughout the call. I knew the answer already. You see, Jason had a habit.
Not even Mr. Billion Dollar Company could give us a straight answer because, well.
He had a habit of disappearing.