Chapter Text
It had been a perfectly fine evening up until the part where some higher power Red gave up believing in decided it'd be really cool to just recreate the incident that brought him to his family in the first place.
And just when everything had been going well, just when he was accepted in the world, had a family, had a place, had a name, albeit shared by his not-so-mini-anymore mini-me but that just made it fun because no news source could understand why he was the so called evil twin and he couldn't help but enjoy the confusion.
A regular patrol with his good twin had gone sour, as one moment they were flying through the air, with Little shouting at him to "Keep up, grandad," even though they were barely three or four years apart and the Knight was already two feet in front of Hood.
That's when the weirdest thing happened, and, the feeling of flying flipped to the feeling of falling, as Red plummeted. He closed his eyes, braced himself, and landed suprisingly softly. He opened his eyes again for just a moment, finding himself in a dumpster, before something landed on top of him.
"AK?" That was Little's voice, though it was hard to hear over what was currently crushing him. "AK? Where'd you go?"
The weight lifted, and Red realized with a feeling of I-should-have-known that Little must have fallen on him - ths name being notably ironic. Red pulled himself upright, afraid of being sat on again by his big lump of a not-quite brother.
"Are you okay?" Red asked, getting his helmet to pull up how his tech was doing, to see if anything had been damaged. It fizzed for several long seconds, indicating that something was wrong, before it finally pulled up a small image of the helmet, with the horns a deep shade of red, everything else a slight yellow, except for the big crack across his faceplate, marked as gold.
"Yeah, I'm fine, are you?"
"You fucking dented my antennae-"
"Well, the next time I get sucked into a fucking wormhole outta nowhere I'll make sure to direct my ass somewhere else instead-"
"You asshole, do you understand that this means I can get no signal for anything through this thing? Congrats, Hood, no map."
"Look, AK, it's not that bad-"
"They're fucking broken-"
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE I DIDN'T MEAN TO DENT YOUR STUPID CAT EARS!"
Red tugged off his helmet, each clasp releasing easily due to the antennae damage. He waved it in Little's face, who also took off his helmet, his word's quickly catching up with Red's racing mind.
"THE FUCK D'YA CALL 'EM?"
"Oh shit-"
Red's fist caught Little right in the stomach, and he doubled over.
"You're payin' for the shit to repair it," Red told him firmly, then turned to climb out the dumpster and-
Oh shit- is that? Them?
*
If Jason had a rupee every time he had to deal with an alternate version of himself from a different dimension who had also manifested their trauma into a mantle named after their tormentor —he'd have three rupees—which wasn't much (in a way that had nothing to do with the post-colonialist-economic-crises of Southeast Asia). But it was weird that it had happened thrice.
"You fucking dented my antennae—"
"Well, the next time I get sucked into a fucking wormhole outta nowhere I'll make sure to direct my ass somewhere else instead—"
It was 4:56 a.m. in the morning, why couldn't the space-time continuum cough up a diet Armageddon at a more considerate hour? like 1 p.m.? —or at a more considerate place —like someone else's dumpster?
Fuck, he doesn't want to deal with this anymore. Maybe if he just stepped back really quietly, the alternates wouldn't notice, and most importantly —Jay wouldn't notice. Which would definitely result in a situation—something he didn't want to face without at least 20 hours of sleep, he turns and—
"Whatcha doin' ?"
—the situation is just a few inches away from his chest. Decidedly not in bed.
"Jay, sweetheart, aren't you supposed to be in bed".
"Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
The kid was grouchy i.e. he was three more sleepless hours away from home-cooking fully-functional TNT i.e. Jason needed to get him back to bed. Stat.
"—They're fucking broken—"
"—FOR FUCKS SAKE I DIDN'T MEAN TO DENT YOUR STUPID CAT EARS—"
Cat-ears had taken their cat ears off— revealing a Jay. And was waving them at pre-therapy Red Hood. Who also took off their helmet to reveal a Jason.
They were both painfully youn— Nope.
This was it, he was hallucinating. He exhaled in relief. Must be the sleep deprivation catching up.
"THE FUCK DID'YA CALL EM—"
The auditory hallucinations sure were loud. No biggie, he'd pop a melatonin or four and not think about this ever again.
"Are those —us ?", Jay's voice was uncertain.
Eh. Was worth a shot.
The not-auditory hallucinations were suddenly quiet now. And out of the dumpster. Looking directly at them—masks in place.
Presume hostile until proven otherwise.
Fuck, Jay didn't have any protective gear. He pushed Jay behind him. He didn't make a fuss, surprisingly. That was until he heard a faint click. Jay had subtly rearranged the plating of his crutch into something lethal. Warmth curled in his gut. Atta boy.
He pulled out his own guns from the holsters and clicked the safety off.
"Identify yourselves".
Hand him his Oscar. He was killing this performance. And that was on 60 consecutive hours without sleep. Alfred would be so proud.
"Uh. No?"
"Little, do me a favor and shut up."
Jason rolled his eyes heavenward. Not that the helmet would convey the sentiment—the heavens did not answer. He heard Jay muffle a snort.
"There was an u—unforeseen anomaly , we got pulled in and stranded in this d—dimension.", the voice had started glitching, the fall must've damaged the modulator too. Jason pushed down the twinge of concern exactly where it had risen from. Nope, not today.
"—We mean no harm.", Pre-therapy Hood interjected.
Jason wanted to call bullshit. He wanted to close the door and recover a huge chunk of his sleep debt. But he also wanted Jay to stop EMP-fying the household appliances. You couldn't always have what you wanted in life.
"We would appreciate s—some help", Cat-ears was visibly favoring one side. Hood's center of balance was slightly askew. They were both disoriented from the fall. Possibly injured.
"Jason?",Jay had realized it too. And he knew that tone. It was Jason-can-we-please-keep-the-feral-raccoon-with-leptosirosis tone. Anxiety with a misplaced sense of empathy the kid insisted he didn't have.
"S—Sir?", their body language screamed confusion. And underlying dread— nothing that couldn't turn malevolent. But there was fear.
They were kids.
They could hold their own for a few days. But with faulty tech and no support ,Jay's Gotham would tear them apart —sooner rather than later. And that's not counting the Bat that was itching to vivisect a displaced anomaly.
"Jason?—", Jay repeated. There was an edge in his tone.
"—please?",it would've been inaudible. If not for Jason's enhanced hearing.
They'd both been so young under the masks.
Godammit.
He clicked the safety back on. His apartment had more security than all of Gotham put together. Maybe except the watchtower. He had the tech too.
Godammit.
"Alright, follow me.",He turned to lead them. Jay visibly relaxed.
This was his life now. Corralling his own wayward alternates. The universe was finally punishing him for his hubris. He was going to send Talia a fruit basket the second he got back.
If the alternates were surprised, they didn't let it show, the soft thumps were the only indicator that he was being followed.
Jay was in the lead. Because Jason's instincts might not have failed him before. But he didn't want to test his luck.
They were at the door now, Jay had already started undoing the safety measures.
"Wipe your shoes off before you come in."
*
"Alright ,make yourselves at home, I'm Jason and that's Jay—"
Jason gestured towards the empty space where the kid had been a few moments ago.
"That was Jay" , he amended.
"I'm Red, this is Little Jay, we just call him Little though."
"For the record, he's not called Red because of his hair-"
Red slapped a gloved hand over Little's mouth, shooting him an icy look, and Little knew he'd won. After a few moments, Red tentatively removed his hand from Little's face.
Jason sighed. Little had a feeling he'd be doing that alot for the time they'd be here
—and then he shot off to look around.
It was a pretty homey apartment, Little decided after poking around for a few minutes, with blankets and legos scattered around the main area like there had been some attempt to keep it clean, but someone undoubtedly lived there.
When they were brought in, they were given the chance to shower, which Red especially was grateful for judging by how he'd almost fought Little for the chance to have the first go in the wash.
Jay, the one that looked like an even more scrawny version of Red, maybe 4 inches shorter and lacking the wide shoulders or any sort of muscle that Red had, had been watching Little from just around a corner the entire time Little explored. He was a sweet kid, Little eventually decided, with his curly brown hair and big dark doe eyes, he looked so innocent - and Little would fight anyone who claimed otherwise.
When Red got out the shower, wearing some clothes Jason, the adult version of them, had given him, including a shirt that read `come closer I'll teach you about rabies`, he limped carefully over to Little, careful in his attempts to hide said limp because Jason was already worrying about them and he didn't need to worry about an old long healed injury.
"Can I get a hug?" He asked his smaller older brother, who shot him a look.
"No, ya stink. Go shower, an' I'll consider it."
Translation: if you shower, you'll get all the hugs you want.
So Little hurried off, collecting a change of clothes from Jason, and took a quick blast in the shower, amused to find that the shirt Jason had absentmindedly given him was more of a baggy jumper, with a long fish across the chest and arms and the text `that big, eh?`
He dressed quickly, and emerged, finding a delightful smell on the air - someone was cooking!
*
Red and Little were kids. No surprise. And yet here Jason was—spiralling next to his Naan.
He needed a paracetamol.
They were kids. From an alternate dimension. Clearly their Bruce needed a stern disappearing off the face of the Earth talking to if he was still using child soldiers. There was another sharp burst of pain. His head was fucking killing him
He took deep calming breaths
At the moment.
The kids must be hungry. Little was built like a tank. Was their Bruce even aware of his freaky metabolism. Was he even getting all his vitamins? Was he even fed? Nevermind.He wasn't concerned.
He still had to have a talk with Jay. The kid had pulled a remarkable feat of courage after avoiding people for so long. But he couldn't say how he must be feeling now. With two brand new people in his safe space.
He heard footsteps from the living room. Red must be done showering then.
The Naan was done. It'd go perfectly with the leftover curry—it was one of Jay's favourites. He wondered if Red had the same preferences as Jay. Seeing that they both looked almost exactly the same.
He took the Naan off the stove and piled them on a plate. His brain reminded him again of the abuse he was inflicting on it. He staunchly ignored it.
Mhmm, he'd make something more versatile. Samosas maybe?
The living room was surprisingly deserted. Jay was no where to be seen. He'd worry if he didn't know the kid's hiding spots so well. The kid would come out whenever he was ready.
He placed the Naan on the table , right alongside the dish full of curry. The kids were no where to be seen.
"DINNER'S READY",he was feeling more ridiculous by the minute. The kids needed to eat.
He turned and almost walked into Red.
"Jesus Fucking Christ", there were two of them.
"Is that curry?", Red continued as if he hadn't just appeared out of the ether. He was drowning in Jason's clothes.
The shirt was hanging off his lean physique, revealing the raised strips of scar tissue running over the kid's collar bones, around his neck.
The scarring was way more extensive than Jay's. His stomach swooped.
And he finally had to confront the fact that he had been trying so hard to avoid thinking about all along.
Red was Jay. From a world where he wasn't rescued. Red was a fucking kid no one had looked for.
"Uh, Jason?"
Not today. He already had his hands full with a traumatized teenager. He pushed the over-whelming mish-mash of anger-resignation-protectiveness deep down and simply power-walked back to the kitchen. He was not going to spiral.
Fresh. He'd make the Samosas fresh. And he would not spiral in the kitchen .He was Jason Todd. Jason Todd did not spiral in the kitchen. The kitchen spiralled at Jason Todd.
He turned and a wave of vertigo hit him. Ah, the kitchen had ,infact ,started spiralling at him.
"Jason?",he didn't jump. Jay was peeking from above the kitchen cabinets. Brace thankfully still on. Looking up made his head spin more. So he just pulled the fridge door open to look for the frozen Samosas.
"Yeah Sweetheart? I'm making Samosas , would you like one?"
The room tilted violently to the left.
Jay jumped down. The fucking ankle."You don't look so good"
"No idea what you're talking about ",he was perfectly fine—he was going to make some. Darn.Good.Samosas—the room tilted to the right—for the traumatized teenagers.
Suddenly he was on the floor. It was cold and so,so comfortable.Why did people invest in mattresses at all?
There were two Jays infront of him now. Huh, was Jay a meta?,he was so proud of his baby.
"Baby?",Jay #2 whispered in disbelief.
Oops, he'd said aloud. And probably stuttered. He turned to repeat it to Jay #2. He deserved to know .Wait what? Jay didn't look that old. He was barely sixteen. He didn't look that sad. What happened?
"I think he's delirious, let's just get him to bed"
There were three Jays now. With identical expressions of concern.
He was being half-dragged, half carried by them. His babies were so strong. He loved them so much.
He lifted his head to tell them that. And promptly passed out.