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Jason’s been prowling around this corner of the multiverse for two weeks now, and Batman still hasn’t tracked him down. He doubts the old man has even realized there’s someone new in town, if he hasn’t found Jason by now. It’s March 22nd, about a month before he died in his universe, and so far, Jason hasn’t seen any signs of friction between Batman and his younger self. He’s been tailing the dynamic duo since he got to this universe—seriously, magic users are the worst—just in case he needs to hunt down a certain clown before he can murder Robin. So far, it seems like this is one of the better universes out there.
The night is calm, mostly. Jason follows after Batman and Robin, geared up with only his leather jacket, a domino mask, and five concealed weapons. He stops when he sees Batman and Robin swing by an ice cream parlor he remembers loving as a kid. Jason turns away, ready to head back to the dirt-cheap apartment he’s been using for the past few weeks, when a flash of metal catches his eye. His attention snaps to the glint, already obscured again by shadow, but he’s able to make out the silhouette well enough.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Jason growls. He grapples over to the rooftop and lands silently behind the kid. He picks him up by the back of his hoodie and lifts him until they’re eye-to-eye. “Seriously, baby bird?” Tim Drake’s wide blue eyes blink up at him, startled into silence. His mouth hangs open, and his fingers grip the camera in his hands so tightly, his knuckles turn white. Jason sighs. “Where’re your parents this time?”
“Why do you look like Robin?” Tim says, instead of answering the question like a normal person. Jason nearly drops him in sheer exasperation. The unamused expression on his face must snap some sense into the kid, because a moment later, he actually answers. “Uh, Venezuela? I think. How’d you know about that?”
“How much quantum theory do you know?” Jason asks dryly. Tim’s eyes light up with understanding.
“The multiverse is real?” He asks excitedly. He’s practically vibrating in Jason’s grip, brimming with childish glee. “That’s so cool! So you are Robin, but you’re from another world?”
“Something like that,” Jason says. He’s not going to traumatize the kid with the gory details. “C’mon kiddo, it’s cold as fu-heck out here, and you look like you need a good meal or twelve.”
“Are you kidnapping me?” Tim asks, tilting his head to the side curiously. Jason rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Okay then. How’d you even find me?”
“Knew to look out for the little stalker,” Jason replies with a sharp grin. Tim flushes right up to his ears, and Jason sets him back down onto the ground. Tim trots over toward the rusted fire escape, and Jason has to snag him by the hood of his shirt. “Seriously, how did you survive this long?” He grumbles.
He uses his grapple to help them get to the ground safely and leads Tim back to his crappy apartment. Tim looks like he’s about to combust with how many questions he’s holding back, but he’s polite enough to wait until Jason’s shut and locked the door to let them loose. Individual words get lost in the flood of questions, and Jason closes his eyes, feeling a headache knocking against the backs of his eyelids. He turns to the fridge and retrieves some leftovers to heat up. Tim eventually talks himself out and settles in to watch Jason with those wide eyes. It’s weird seeing the kid so full of life. The Tim Drake Jason knows is so much more subdued, weighed down by tragedy and responsibility.
“Alright kid, eat up, and I’ll talk.” Jason passes him a plate of fettuccine and watches as Tim takes a hesitant bite, lighting up once he tastes the food. He feels a little proud of that. “So, yeah, I’m Jason Todd, Robin number two, currently going by the name Red Hood. I got zapped into this world a couple weeks ago, and I’ve been keeping an eye on things.” He sees Tim open his mouth to ask another question and points his fork at him, a threatening glint in his eyes. “Nope, not going there. Don’t ask. I’m just trying to make sure this universe isn’t as messed up as the one I came from.” He sighs and scowls at his plate. “Guess that means taking care of the other Batbrats, too, huh?”
“Can I help?”
“The fu-heck? No.” Jason glares at Tim, who seems completely unfazed. “Listen kid, I’ve seen what this kinda life did to you. No way am I letting you get caught up in it again.”
“I’m a vigilante in your world?” Tim asks, yet again focusing on the wrong part of what Jason’s saying.
“Yep,” Jason says. “Took on Robin after me. Go by Red Robin these days, though.” Tim’s eyes widen with glee, and Jason sends a pointed look toward the kid’s plate. The smile doesn’t fade, but he does shovel another forkful of pasta into his mouth. Small victories.
“Well, can I help you plan? I’m good with computers, and I’m smart.”
“None of that was new information, baby bird.” Jason sighs and runs a hand through his hair, weighing his options. He can’t just send the kid back to that empty house. Maybe he can point Tim in the direction of the Waynes, but that could put his plans at risk. He’s not quite ready to reveal himself to Bruce or little Jay, yet. “Alright,” he says finally. “I’ll let you help, as long as you promise to follow a few ground rules, okay?” Tim nods, and Jason fixes him with a serious expression. It’s a challenge, and Tim doesn’t waver. “First, no running to the Bats. Next, you need to have someone look after you.”
“Good luck with that one,” Tim interrupts. “The housekeeper only stops by once a week.”
“Stay here then,” Jason offers with a shrug, speaking without thinking. He immediately wants to kick himself, but the awestruck look in Tim’s eyes eases his initial reaction. “We’ll make it work. Next rule: no field work. Baby birdies don’t leave the nest til they learn how to fly. I’m fine working with you on research, but I’m handling the heavy lifting by myself. Got it?” Tim nods.
“Do you want me to sign a contract or something?” He asks. His smile is mischievous, and Jason thinks of the Robin he’d beaten into a bloody heap, years ago. His stomach does an uncomfortable flip, but he manages to return the smile.
“Nah, not my style.” He checks the time on the microwave above the oven and curses. “It’s late. You want me to swing by your place for anything you need, or do you wanna wait til morning?”
“Tomorrow is fine,” Tim says. “I want to see what kind of plans you’re working on first, anyways.”
“Nope, it’s bedtime for you, kiddo. No ifs, ands, or buts.” Tim sticks his tongue out at him, but Jason merely raises a brow at him, channeling his inner Alfred. Unsurprisingly, the kid acquiesces quickly, scurrying off to the bathroom to shower while Jason digs out a pair of pajamas that’ll fit the tiny twelve-year-old.
It’s only after Tim gives him a hug and a cheerful ‘goodnight!’ that Jason realizes he just might be in over his head.