Chapter Text
He had started smoking a few months before the wheel theft incident. A guy hanging outside a bar offered Jason a cig, and he took it. After that he started bumming (or stealing) whatever he could. Then when he moved in with Bruce the first time, everything changed so quickly, he barely had time to think about his own life, let alone nicotine.
Then the pit, coming back, the shadows, THAT was change. In the years following his escape from Al Gouhl, Jason picked up a lot of habits. He didn't exactly have structure. He had The Life, but that wasn't as all-consuming as he liked to think it was. There was a lot of time that Jason had to himself, which wasn't very pleasant at the time. He was burried in emotions. Grief, guilt, rage, and enough trauma motivated behaviors to fill thousands of canary’s weekly sessions. That was when he'd started smoking again. He knew what doctors said, and he had tried to practice some semblance of moderation. As true as that was, he was also a deeply broken teenager living by himself. Self control wasn't his strong suit.
As he had gotten deeper into his time as the Red Hood, he became more ingraned in the Life. Everything else fell by the wayside. But on those few nights he did find himself out of the Hood, he fell back on old habits, picking the pockets of many a drunken Gothomite for a pack of smokes and a light. On those nights, he'd find a quiet alley or rooftop and look up at the muddled black Gotham night. Light pollution blocked most of the stars. That was one of the few things Jason actually missed about infinity island, the stars were so clear out there.
This was his meditation. He stared into the sky and felt the smoke in his lungs, watching it drift into the night as he exhaled. In those moments, Jason Todd was himself. He was the punk kid leaning against a bar with a stranger. He was Robin, breathless as Batman drilled combat training late into the night. He was Robin, breathless, this time alone on a cold concrete floor choking up his own blood. He was nobody….nowhere….for a long time. Then, suddenly, he was someone, somewhere, sputtering and gasping for air through the murky green fluid of the pit.Then, all at once, He was Jason Todd again, and he was back in Gotham. Somehow he'd ended up back here, Living whatever life he could find, chasing the smoke into the night.
By the time he'd ended up back in the Manor, he had grown up enough to understand why Bruce had the rules he did. So he never smoked on the property.
That being said,
Sometimes Jason Todd
Just wants a Cigarette.
Even before Duncan and Cass and Dami showed up, it wasn't easy to leave the manor completely unnoticed. Jason usually picked nights after particularly draining missions. Those were the nights that he knew bruce would be sleeping off whatever fresh hell he'd just seen, and Alfred would be deep in the throes of his Wayne family emergency medicine responsiblities. He could slip out one of the secret evac tunnels, or just go the old fashioned route and avoid the cameras outside his bedroom window.
Jason knew it was risky, he knew it would be the talking-to of a lifetime from Bruce if he ever found out. But it was worth the risk, on the nights he needed to be alone. As much as Bruce and the others had become his family, The cracked asphalt of the Gotham streets still whispered his name. He could feel its call. The population loved to point at statistics to explain why the city was the way it was, but Jason knew. He heard the way the streets and buildings hummed. Gotham had long ago become more than the sum of its residents. Villains, heroes, vigilantes, and plain old people. Everyone felt Gotham's call in their own way. To some, it called for them to take power and exert it upon the people, by whatever means necessary. To others, it called to bring justice, safety, and community in the face of greed and danger. To many, it simply beckoned, and that mystery itself was call enough. He’d seen them all, throughout his life. Yet after all this time, he still couldn't quite tell what the city called to him.
Jason exhaled and shifted his focus from the street below back to his own body. He hoped he'd never have to explain this particular habit to Bruce. The man was understanding, but sharp. He was the world's greatest detective, and as such, he constantly calculated the possible consequences of every action. Jason knew Bruce would ever see the calculations how he did, when it came to smoking. Jason lowered the cigarette from his lips and tapped ash onto the sidewalk.
Gotham’s architecture painted a strange history. Old gothic spires and arches intermingled with sleek modern high rises and rusting abandoned warehouses. Dotted between all that there was life. Humble brick apartment buildings with steel fire escapes crawling up the sides, worn in brownstones passed from generation to generation or filled with eager new residents. Every corner store or restaurant held a familiar face of some kind. Old family friends, schoolmates, or just the guy you pay for a cold soda. As the thought crossed his mind, Jason remembered that he'd just finished the pack.
Hanging a left on 15th instead of a right, he turned away from the manor and headed deeper into the city
The gentle tinkle of the bell on the door announced the arrival of a customer. A muscular man in the brown leather jacket and cargo pants. Short brown hair with a shock of white at the front.
“Hey there Jay, long night?”
“You could certainly say that, Mr. Alvarez”
“Please, how many times do I have to say it, you can just call me Luis”
“I'm sorry sir, you sold me the best sandwiches of my life before I could even read, I can't bring myself to call you by your first name”
“Ay, mi sobrino, you give me too much credit. So, just the drink tonight?”
The elderly man nodded down at the Arizona can on the counter
“And a pack of Marboros, the reds, por favor Tío”
Jason handed the man a few bills and took his purchases. Pickpocketing cigarettes was cheaper, sure, but seeing an old friend occasionally was worth the cost.
Back out on the street, Jay turned towards the manor and began his usual route home, stopping only to stash the new pack and lighter in one of his old dead drop locations.
His excursion having come to a close, Jay closed the window behind him and shortly after, drifted off to sleep as the very first signs of light began to touch Gotham.