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Tim already disliked kidnappings as Robin. It had never occurred to him that they were even worse as Tim Drake.
But so far no one had ever thought of using the Drakes' son as leverage either. Probably because any criminal in his right mind could see that his parents were not attached to him. How could they? After all, his parents didn't know him at all.
Tim had to face this fact when Red Hood kidnapped him.
To be fair, apart from his thoughts, it was the most pleasant kidnapping he had ever been involved in. The ropes didn't rub, even though they held him to the (padded and ergonomic!) chair. The room even had a pleasant room temperature, and daylight and seemed mold-free, although it was otherwise empty. Tim had not expected these conditions from someone who dragged children away from home to earn their money.
"You won't get anything for me," Tim warned Hood because he had not been gagged. Briefly, he had considered screaming for help but then decided against it. Nobody was that stupid and the pistol in Hood’s holster was still threatening. Better not to risk anything, because they probably wouldn't call the police even if they heard him.
His captor looked up from Tim's mobile phone, into which he was setting up a jamming signal for backtracking.
"I know."
Tim's blood froze in his veins.
What kind of answer was that? Who went to all this trouble, for nothing? Unless ... Unless Hood wanted something else. Like revenge, for instance. And that was worse. This was so much worse.
“Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you,” Hood snorted.
Tim raised an eyebrow.
"Are you hurt?"
"You kidnapped me!" Tim answered angrily.
"Wasn’t my question, was it?"
Tim was silent. In his opinion, kidnappings were also injuries, even if he wasn't bleeding. His pride had suffered considerably.
"I'll tell you how what we will do now," Hood suddenly started to change the subject, "I'll call your parents and record the conversation. They'll tell me they won't pay. So, I'll go down with the money. They will hang up. Fifteen minutes later I'll send them a picture of you with blood on your temple - don't worry, I've taken a course in theatrical make-up. They won't answer. After that, an hour or so later, I'll call Bruce Wayne. He'll agree. Then when eventually Batman shows up and hands you over to the police, you'll tell them this story, have the conversations and the photo as proof of your shit parents, and Bruce Wayne will have an easy time finally becoming your guardian."
Tim blinked. He hadn't expected this. Not in a million years.
"It's called shitty. Shit is a noun and you can't use it as an adjective."
Wow, really? That was the first thing his brain spat out?
Hood, on the other hand, laughed. "I'll take that as an endorsement of my genius plan."
"The plan sucks."
"The plan is genius," Hood insisted.
Tim shook his head, "For the plan to work, my parents would have to pick up the phone in the first place."
Hood froze and lowered the phone he was about to raise to his ear.
"Excuse me?"
Tim looked out the window. He didn't want to look at that blank face.
"My parents only want me to call in emergencies. I broke my leg last year and called. They picked up, didn't consider it an emergency, and haven't answered my mobile phone since because they assume I can't properly classify an emergency."
Red Hood said nothing for a long time, but when he finally responded, it was a deep and long swear word that started with F and ended with uck.
Tim simply overheard and instead wondered if he could persuade his kidnapper - self-proclaimed savior - if he could use his phone to order a pizza.
"Let me get this straight and please interrupt me if I've misunderstood something," Hood began slowly and with clearly suppressed anger, "Your parents are so shitty at their jobs that they won't pay a ransom for you, dismiss a broken arm as nothing and leave you to rot in a house alone for months, which is why they conveniently miss the fact that you're consistently carrying injuries from your adventures with Batman."
Tim paled, "What adventures?"
The question didn't sound particularly convincing to his ears, but he had to be convincing! This was a completely different situation if Hood knew his secret identity.
Hood sighed heavily, "I know you're Robin, kid. But don't get your knickers in a twist now. My priority is to protect you and that's unlikely to succeed if I would tell every villain who their enemy is. You're safe."
What followed was neither clever nor considered. Pure fear spoke from Tim, disguised in anger.
"You kidnapped me from my house!" shouted Tim, "I don't believe a word you say because people who kidnap children have no credibility. Stop downplaying what you did and acting like a hero. If Batman thinks my situation is okay, then it's hardly that bad! I'm old enough to manage on my own."
"Your parents should care about you!" shouted Hood back.
"But they don't!", Tim got even louder, "They never have and they never will. I'm just beginning to comprehend what it means to be loved and you're not going to take that away from me!"
Tears ran down Tim's face and suddenly it became harder to breathe. The truth he had spoken was not freeing but crushing. He had probably been lying to himself throughout. Thought it didn't matter.
But the fucking truth was that it hurt.
He was such a monster that his own parents couldn't love him. And Batman was somehow capable of it. But now Hood was coming along and ruining everything. If he pushed Bruce to do something, Tim would end up in foster care faster than he could look.
Hood held out a tissue to him. A tissue with a Wonder Woman pattern.
This action was so comical that Tim was jolted out of his inner monologue and back into reality. And when Tim reached for it, he also noticed that his bonds had been loosened.
Huh. He must have crawled deep into his head not to have noticed that.
"Thanks," he muttered, blowing his nose.
Hood sighed. He did that quite often, Tim found.
"You've got quite a lot weighing you down, kid. I can't do much about it but trust me on this: your parents being so awful isn't your fault."
Tim didn't believe him. But he believed that at least Hood meant what he said. Too bad that Hood believed in bullshit.
"What now?" he asked instead.
Hood showed three fingers, "You have three options."
Tim raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Option one: we follow through with my original plan."
Tim snorted. His parents definitely wouldn't take the call.
"Option Two: I call cops I trust and explain your situation to them."
"Then I end up in foster care!" Tim panicked.
"Bruce still has the authority to take in foster children," Hood shrugged.
"Option three," Tim urged, hoping the guy had saved the best for last.
"Option Three," and Hood sounded like he was grinning now, "I'm really kidnapping you and we'll live together from now on. You can even move up from Robin to my sidekick."
Tim's jaw dropped.
"You're kidding, right?"
"No," Hood said seriously and his posture seemed almost sulky.
"Are you crazy?", Tim asked next.
"No!" said Hood grimly, "I just care about you and I seem to be the only one. You're a kid who's been left alone. Someone has to take care of you. And if I can't make Bruce do it, I'll do it myself."
Tim got woozy, "So my choice is between going along with a madman or blackmailing Bruce into taking me in, whereupon my parents will probably write me hate mail?"
Hood sighed, "You could put it that way, but I'm not crazy."
Tim laughed, "I don't even know your identity. Who's to say that behind that helmet isn't the Riddler?"
"Because Riddler would never wear red?"
Tim looked at him grimly, "The joke was bad and I won't laugh."
Even though the whole situation invited a laugh because it was all a bad joke.
"Okay," Hood agreed, "that's fair."
"Okay?"
"Okay," Hood agreed, reaching for his helmet.
Tim leaned forward expectantly. Would he now actually learn Hood's identity before Batman did? If so, then this stupid day could turn into a good one.
The helmet was gone and Tim was left breathless.
"Jason Todd?"
"Hey, kid," a ghost smiled at him.
Tim didn't say anything for a long time, but somehow he finally found words, "I choose option three."
What else could he do? His hero offered him a job as a sidekick. It was a dream come true. A dream that would hopefully banish all thoughts of his parents. It was a pity about Bruce, but the man had had the opportunity to get him out of the lonely house. Tim would still make sure the man didn't hurt himself or worry, but Tim had a chance here.
When Jason broke into an honest grin at his words, Tim didn't feel alone for the first time since his early childhood. Hope rose in him. Maybe now someone would finally love him.