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Jason Todd hated tuxedos. Always had, always would.
The collar scratched at his neck, and the stiff fabric felt like a straightjacket. He tugged at his bowtie again, glaring at his reflection as if it were the fabric’s fault.
From the doorway, Dick Grayson leaned against the frame, a knowing grin on his face. "Need some help, Jaybird?"
Jason shot him a look through the mirror. "No. I can handle a bowtie."
Dick chuckled and strolled over, ignoring the protest. "Relax. It’s just a bowtie, not a noose."
Jason scowled. "Feels the same."
Dick quickly and effortlessly adjusted the knot. "You’ll survive. Trust me."
Jason muttered, "Barely."
"You’ll get used to it." Dick gave him a playful nudge. "Who knows? Maybe you’ll even start liking it."
Jason rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Pretty sure my soul belongs to hoodies."
Before Dick could respond, Tim Drake appeared in the doorway, smirking. "Look at you. All dressed up and nowhere to go."
Jason shot back with a grin. "What’s your excuse? You spend so much time glaring at reporters, you could major in it."
Tim snorted. "You really don’t quit with the college thing, huh?"
Jason leaned against the dresser. "I’m just saying—you gotta have a backup plan. I mean, you can’t glare at Gotham’s elite forever."
Damian Wayne scoffed from where he sat cross-legged on the bed. "Only civilians need ‘backup plans.’"
Jason gave him a wide grin. "Well, lucky for you, kid, it’s never too early to start thinking about college. Gotham U has a great pre-law program. You’d crush it."
Damian glared, eyes narrowing. "I am not wasting my time with meaningless degrees."
"Right," Jason replied with a grin. "But when you change your mind, I’ll drive you to campus."
Dick leaned back, hands in his pockets, grinning. "See, Jaybird? You’re getting the hang of this whole ‘older brother’ thing."
Jason huffed. "Don’t get used to it."
The gala was as boring as ever—fake smiles, forced conversations, and too many people pretending they mattered. Jason moved through the crowd, dodging conversations with practiced ease.
At the hors d’oeuvres table, Duke Thomas joined him, balancing a plate of food.
"How much longer do we have to stay?" Duke asked, popping a sandwich into his mouth.
Jason grinned. "Just long enough for Bruce to terrify a senator and for Tim to scare off a reporter."
Duke chuckled. "Same old, same old. Lunch tomorrow?"
Jason tapped his watch. "Obviously. You think I drive you around for free?"
Before Duke could respond, a gunshot echoed across the ballroom.
Jason’s body reacted before his mind could stop it. He moved through the crowd like a bullet, dodging screaming guests. Near the far wall, a man held a woman at gunpoint. His hand trembled, his finger too close to the trigger.
Jason exhaled sharply. This guy’s gonna shoot.
He charged forward, slamming into the man with full force and sending them both to the floor. The gun flew from the man’s hand, clattering across the marble.
Jason twisted the man’s arm behind his back, locking him down with a knee to the spine. The fight was over in seconds—muscle memory taking over without permission.
Jason grabbed the fallen gun without thinking, his hand steady and practiced. For a moment, everything narrowed—just him, the gun, and the man beneath him.
It would be so easy. One clean shot. End it here.
But then Batman’s shadow swept over him, and Jason froze.
He dropped the gun like it burned him, stumbling back. Play dumb.
"Oh, man!" Jason gasped, panting as if winded. "Batman! Thank God you’re here!"
Batman stared at him, the weight of his silence suffocating. He didn’t believe a word.
Jason forced a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I’ve been watching too many action movies, huh?"
Bruce’s gaze didn’t shift, but the message was clear: He knew.
Later that night, the family gathered in the den, and Jason sprawled on the couch, acting like the most innocent guy in the room.
Tim shot him a look. "You sure you’ve never taken a self-defense class?"
Jason grinned. "Just YouTube tutorials. What can I say? I’ve got natural talent."
Damian folded his arms, glaring. "No civilian has reflexes that sharp."
Jason shrugged. "What can I say? Growing up in Crime Alley teaches you a thing or two."
Dick chuckled. "You ever think about doing something with those instincts? Like sports?"
Jason waved him off. "Nah. Pre-med’s my thing now." He shot Tim a grin. "But you? You’d make a great journalist. You should think about it."
Tim groaned. "Not this again."
Jason smirked. "What? Somebody’s gotta have a backup plan."
He turned to Damian, grinning. "And Dami, you’ve still got time. Just imagine: Damian Wayne, future lawyer. Has a nice ring to it."
Damian’s scowl deepened. "I do not require a civilian profession."
Jason gave him a playful wink. "When you change your mind, let me know. I’ll drive you to campus myself."
The next morning, Jason picked up Duke for their usual drive to class.
"You really think you’re gonna convince them to go to college?" Duke asked with a grin.
Jason smirked. "It’s all part of the long game."
Duke shook his head, laughing. "And you’re still pretending you don’t know about... you know?"
Jason gave him a wide-eyed look. "What, the secret cosplay club? No clue what you’re talking about."
Duke burst out laughing. "You’re the worst."
Jason grinned. "Lunch later?"
"Always," Duke said, hopping out of the car.
Jason lingered for a moment, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
He wasn’t Red Hood. He wasn’t Robin. He was just Jason Todd, a guy with a second chance, trying to build a life beyond the shadows.
Maybe convincing his siblings to do the same was a stretch. But figuring out his own path? That was a start.
And he had plenty of time to get it right.