Chapter Text
“Wing,” Steph’s voice crackled through Dick’s comms. She’d called his cellphone ten times, so Oracle had patched her through.
“What’s up, Spoiler?”
“I need help in Crime Alley right now —“
“I thought you weren’t patrolling tonight,” Dick said, already swinging a leg over his motorcycle and speeding through Gotham.
“I’m not, it’s my friend, his dad, Willis Todd, he’s a fuckin’ bastard and I think he’s really losing it and I can’t help if — Catherine, please sit down —“ Steph’s voice was too far away for Dick to make out what she was saying and he punched the motorcycle up a gear, headed for her location.
“Spoiler? S, are you okay?”
“Are you here yet?” she panted as Dick raced up the stairs. He could hear shouting from the stairwell.
“Where’s your fuckin’ mother?” A man roared
“Fourth floor?” Dick asked.
“Yeah. My friend, his name's Jason.”
Dick skidded into the hallway. There was a large man in a stained white t-shirt holding a kid, Jason, by the shirt, pressing him against the wall. There was a lot of blood on the kid’s face.
They looked so similar — the same black, curly hair, the same jaw, the same anger in their shoulders — they could only be father and son.
The man, Willis Todd, put his first through the drywall next to Jason’s head and the kid froze.
“She’s getting out of your way,” Jason said tightly. Furiously.
Lightning quick, Willis Todd pulled out a gun and pressed the barrel into his son’s forehead. The kid went statue still.
“Hey, now,” Dick said in his best Deescalation Voice. “Put the gun down.”
“Fuckin’ Nightwing?” Willis laughed and the sound was delirious. He was a man at the end of his rope. He pressed the gun harder against Jason’s head. Jason, who didn’t take his eyes off his dad’s face.
Dick was cycling through his options — have Babs cut the power to the building, call in backup, try talking the man down, inch closer until he could grab the gun — when the door next to Dick crashed open.
Dick caught sight of Steph wrangling a frail blonde woman, bruised and bloodied, back into the apartment out of the corner of his eye.
He lunged forward, but Jason had already wrenched the gun out of Willis’ hand and punched the man so hard he hit the floor. Dick took a very brief moment to be impressed before he ziptied Willis Todd’s hands behind his back.
Jason tossed the gun, sans bullets, into the corner and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground.
“Kid,” Dick said gently, creeping closer. “You alright?”
He didn’t look alright. He looked like he had a broken nose, bruises already blossoming under his eyes. He looked like he was having a panic attack, a little bit. And he looked like he knew how to keep that kind of thing to himself.
“Forgot you were here,” Jason murmured, laughing a small, hysterical kind of laugh. He shifted a little, eyes finding Willis where he was thrashing behind Dick.
Dick wanted to break every bone in the man’s body so he didn't look at him, lest he try.
“Catherine,” Steph shouted, sounding exhausted. The frail blonde woman fell to her knees at Jason’s side, shoving Dick away with surprising force.
Her hands trailed over Jason’s face and she pressed kisses into his hair.
“It’s okay,” Jason whispered, pulling her hands away from his face. He ghosted his own hand over his mother’s face and Dick saw the anger that bubbled under his skin, the way his eyes flicked to Willis again. The flare of his nostrils.
Catherine Todd babbled nonsense and Steph pulled her away and Jason pulled himself to his feet and something unpleasant pulled at Dick’s heart.
“You have cops incoming, called by a neighbor,” Oracle warned and Dick swore under his breath.
“Hey kid,” Dick said reluctantly, as Jason shuffled into the trashed apartment. “I need you to talk to the cops, okay?”
“No thanks.”
Dick blew out a sharp breath of air. He might be able to get them to go away, without talking to Jason, but it would be easier if the kid just said what happened Dick was handing off Willis either way.
“C’mon —“ Dick started, intending on saying it’ll be quick.
“Fuck off,” Jason interrupted, but there was no heat behind the words. No emotion at all.
“Nightwing,” Steph said sharply, appearing at his side. He hadn’t heard her approach and he jumped back in surprise.
“Look, I don’t like it either but —“
“Wing, thanks for coming, please fuck off,” Steph said tightly, already moving past him into the apartment.
Dick hauled up Willis Todd and dragged him down to the ground floor. The guy was losing steam fast, the anger bleeding into something harder to look at head on.
He wasn’t crying but his chest heaved and something in Dick protested at the idea of handing him over to the cops. Jail wouldn’t help a guy like this. He needed to sober up, get anger management classes, deal with his shit. Get counselling.
Low level goons didn’t have insurance, though. They didn’t have any kind of support system, no one to take their problems seriously.
Dick thought of Jason’s broken nose and Catherine’s bruised face. Willis’ split knuckles. Physical symptoms of a bigger problem. The same unpleasantness pulled at his heart and his stomach, settling into a tension in his jaw that would manifest as a headache, later.
He handed the man off anyway and got back up to the apartment just as Jason was leaving. Over Jason’s shoulder Steph mouthed, “Doc Thompkins.”
“Let me give you a ride,” Dick tried, trailing Jason down the stairs. He didn’t expect an answer let alone acceptance — he doubted the kid wanted to ride his motorcycle — but he’d hoped to at least get a fuck off for his troubles.
The kid ignored him completely.
“I’m not going to let you go by yourself, alright?” Dick said a bit desperately. He needed to chill or Jason would probably try and ditch him entirely. Jason continued to ignore him. Dick hoped he didn’t have a concussion.
“I’m going to walk with you,” Dick said, wishing he had pockets so he could stroll a bit more casually.
After a few blocks, when the clinic was in sight, Jason stopped. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Probably. Oracle had alerted him to several nearby crimes in progress, but Dick had tapped his comm twice, indicating he was still busy. Of course the kid would think this didn’t count as a good way to spend his time.
“Nah,” Dick lied, grinning. “Slow night.”
Jason rolled his eyes and Dick had a feeling he hadn’t fooled him.
Leslie knew Jason already, that much was clear from the buzzer conversation. That Leslie cared about the kid wasn’t clear until she saw his face. She took it in her hands gently, frowning as she inspected the broken nose.
It was kind. Motherly. Dick had seen that side of Leslie plenty of times when she took care of him and his family, but to see it directed at her community reminded Dick of how good Leslie Thompkins was.
She led Jason into an examination room and returned alone, arms crossed.
“What happened?” She asked. It could not be said that Doctor Leslie Thompkins beat around the bush.
“His dad lost his shit, drunk, smacked his mom around and then him when he got in the way.”
Leslie’s frown deepened but she didn’t look surprised.
Dick frowned, a mirror image of Leslie’s. “He do that a lot?”
“Not lately,” she murmured, which wasn’t reassuring. “He’s been gone a lot lately, works for Two Face. Catherine’s been bringing him in since he was really little. I don’t call the cops, when I can help it. There’s nothing good in foster care for these kids.”
Leslie turned to go and then stopped abruptly. “Look out for him, will you?”
He needs someone went unsaid.
When Leslie was done, Dick followed Jason home in silence. He didn’t enter the apartment building, instead grappling onto the roof of the building across the street.
He didn’t know what he was looking out for, really. Probably nothing. It’s not like Willis could get out of jail so soon, but Dick couldn’t bring himself to leave.
“Hey, O,” he said, watching Jason slam the blinds shut.
“What’s up?”
“Can you look into Willis Todd? Low level goon for Two Face.”
“Sure,” she hummed, typing for a few minutes. “This about that domestic S called in?”
Dick sighed. “Yeah.”
“I’ll see what I can find for you.”
“Thanks, O.”