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"Jason- Jason Todd!"
His hands and voice shook, despite how proudly Jason proclaimed his name. This was Batman - THE Batman - standing in front of him... And he held a tire iron to his chest.
Batman made a noise somewhere between a snarl, a grunt, and a low-throated growl. Regardless, Jason held his ground.
"Hmm." He made the noise again, this time partnered with what looked like raising his left eyebrow. "Get out of here, kid."
Jason scoffed, his hands shaking. "Whatcha gonna do, make me? Ha, that one's funny. Why don't you-"
Batman, seeming tired of the conversation, had picked up Jason by the back of his vest.
"Hey! Stop that! Put me down you big ugly-"
Before he could finish, he had been deposited a few feet away, further from the end of the alley.
"Go." Batman repeated, and this time he did.
But not without spitting on Batman's fancy, high tech shoes.
***
The orphanage, the child trafficking ring, getting adopted by Bruce fucking Wayne- it all passed by in a blur. The worst part was the medical exams, the birth records, and having to emphatically declare every time that HE was JASON Todd, not the bullshit deadname they kept giving him, all the she's and the her's. He was a boy, and that was that.
Bruce, the rich motherfucker, was surprisingly good with that. He never hesitated with he/him pronouns, and never called him anything but Jason.
He could respect that- even if he didn't like the guy. At least he wasn't a fucking transphobe.
And then he became Robin, and it was the most magical thing he had ever felt.
It made him forget everything about how things were. It made him forget his parents fighting when he was younger, his dad smacking him around. He never meant anything by it, only trying to make him tougher, but it still hurt. His dad liked it that he cut his hair, that he went by a boys name.
"If you dress like a boy, maybe the thugs on the street will respect you like one."
It made him forget about his dad getting killed by two face, and how his mom didn't come out of the bathroom for thirty six hours after that. He was the one who cooked and cleaned and made sure the rent was payed after that, making sure everything ran okay. He was taught well, after all, and even if it took picking pockets and stealing hubcaps to take care of her. It was for family, and that made it okay.
It made him forget about finding his mom's body in the bathtub, gone all pale and rigid already. He was only nine at the time. He cried and cried, but didn't stop moving until he had all his things together and packed up. Then he moved her from the bathtub to the bed, tucking her in so she looked a little less unnatural. She could be sleeping like that, if she wasn't so pale. After saying his goodbyes, he called the landlord.
"Hello?" He was an old man with a rough voice from smoking cigarettes all his life. "Has the water gone out again?"
"No." Jason had answered, swallowing his tears. "We're moving out."
"You still owe rent for this month."
"My mom just died."
"And?" He coughed into the phone. "You still owe rent."
"Her body's in the room still. I just thought I'd warn you."
"What? Kid, what're you-"
And that's when Jason hung up, eyes full of tears. He set out for his favorite spot, a tiny hole wedged between two relatively clean-smelling dumpsters. It was better than nowhere to cry.
But being Robin made him forget about all of that. It felt like home. And B never said anything about him being trans making it harder, even though the first Robin wasn't. It was hard, not feeling inadequate, or not feeling like a real boy, but B always reassured him that he was doing great.
The costume though. The costume was horrible.
Jason wouldn't change it; he couldn't. It was Dick's old costume and changing it meant going against what he put there as the standard for Robin. So, it stayed.
But it was hard not to feel stupid in it. He had to shave his whole lower half basically because of the over-glorified panties that served as the bottom of the costume, and the boots were so feminine, and... He just felt like looking at himself was like looking at a little girl in a Halloween costume.
But being there, being Robin, also meant that he could go to school. Not the underfunded, overcrowded, horrible crime alley schools, either. This was the elite Gotham Academy, where everyone wears a uniform and there are never fights in the hallways. It's like a dream come true, even if he feels a little stupid and a lot out of place sometimes. He gets to wear the boys uniform, but that doesn't mean he's not bullied for it. Jason didn't think they could find any reason not to bully him, other than the fact that he was taken in by Bruce Wayne. The rest? He was a scrappy, trans street kid, who talked like he was from crime alley. His nose was too crooked, he was missing a couple teeth. There was no end to his faults.
But he got to learn, to really learn, so he was happy. That was always what he wanted, and what his mom wanted for him. She used to read for him, when he was a kid. All kinds of stories.
But his favorite was one that he didn't even remember the title to, only the plot and the main character's name: Jason.
He declared to her that he would be called Jason from now on, and she had laughed and tucked him in. And when the Catholic Church on the corner kicked them out for it, she never said a word, only found a different place to go Sunday mornings. It was further, but they didn't get the same looks.
He loved his mother, more than anything in the world he wanted to see her. So when he got the word that she was in Ethiopia...
He ran. Without a single thought, without a moments hesitation, and without warning Bruce. He didn't mean it that way, really, but he had been missing her for six years and she wasn't going to slip by him this time.
***
After he came back from the dead, Talia helped him get top surgery. He never felt the need to get anything done downstairs, he was fine with it most of the time and it'd only be more complicated. But now? Now he felt free.
The scars faded right into the others and honestly? No one could tell anymore, especially once she got him back on the hormones he had started taking when he turned fifteen, back with Bruce.
Bruce. B. Whatever he wanted to call him, it was complicated.
He remembered all the good times they had together, out on patrol, back when being Robin gave him magic and Bruce made him feel important.
But now there was another Robin. He replaced him.
But deep down, after a while... He knew it wasn't like that. He remembered all of the birthdays, and holidays, and the exasperated reminders that smoking wasn't good for him. How Bruce never hesitated to get him anything he needed, even though Jason hesitated in asking. He remembered how Bruce had him put on hormone blockers when he took him in, then testosterone when he was fifteen. Bruce was always supportive of him, always there for him.
And right now, he just wanted to go home. He just wanted to show up and collapse into his arms, and let himself cry. He wasn't sure what he would be crying about, but he knew that if Bruce hugged him, he would.
And when Jason got there he didn't even make it past Alfred before crying, throwing his arms around him and sobbing immediately.
This was what he missed. This was home.