Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He was royally fucked. And worst of all, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Jason Todd was a fucking goner for the daughter of Deathstroke and wasn’t going to fight it.

When he awoke, with that unusual feeling of peace in his chest, he realized it. As his eyes cracked open and he caught sight of a wild head of silver curly hair, he couldn’t picture waking up without her beside him.

A grin split his face and he gently kissed the girl’s brow. “Good morning.” He murmured, tightening his hold around her.

She smiled softly but kept her eyes closed, pretending to still sleep. “Morning, Jay. Though I’m pretty sure it’s noon.”

He knew what was coming next, she would awake more, realize what happened, sigh, silently gather her things, and vanish for the next month. He couldn’t do that again, not when she was the only one left. Kori was back with Dick, Roy was dead, Biz was dead, and Artemis was missing.

“Rose?” He whispered, his voice more vulnerable than he’d ever care to admit, “please stay.”

Those two words would change the fate of so many lives, though it was never the intention. He just couldn’t watch her leave again, and it would create a whole new world.

In a million other worlds, Rose sighed, shook her head, perhaps mumbled “I can’t”, and left as planned. But here, she hesitated just long enough for Jason to sit up and grasp her hands in his.

“Please, Rose. I can’t watch you head out that door again. You’re all I have.”

I love you, went unsaid, only because Jason caught himself in time. Rose ran the last time he tried to tell her.

Rose curled into herself, unable to face him, so shy considering what they’d done mere hours ago. “Jay, we won’t work. Our families hate each other, Bruce would kill you, if Slade didn’t. And at the end of the day, we’re in too deep in this life to truly abandon it.”

It was a familiar argument, but she seemed less stubborn than usual. “So? Fuck Bruce. He made it clear he’s not my father, I’m only still in Gotham ‘cause I didn’t know anywhere else worth going. And I can handle Slade, he trained me for a while, remember? And this life, I would never touch a mask again if it meant I could hold you every morning.”

Tears welled in Rose’s eye; Jason hadn’t seen he cry in years. He carefully ran his scarred and calloused thumb across her cheek. “You’re worth it to me.”

After a moment, where she desperately tried to regain control of herself, she whispered three words that made his heart soar. “We can try.”

I love you. He thought again, this time whispering it as he kissed her jaw.

Now that she was finally giving them a chance, he’d fight tooth and nail to keep her.

And someday, he’d get to love her forever.

—*—

Three months later…

Tim was worried, now this doesn’t sound too odd, but Tim usually is smart enough to know worrying is useless. But today, he didn’t have any answers.

Fact: Jason Todd hadn’t communicated with any bats in over three months.

Fact: Tim was 87% certain the Red Hood currently watching over the alley was Jason’s favorite and most trusted lieutenant, Billy Snow, rather than himself. (Tim had several files of evidence proving this theory - he just hadn’t confirmed it yet).

Fact: the bats had a long history of not knowing what was going on with Jason - usually when Jason desperately needed help, though he rarely accepted it.

Understandably, Tim was beginning to panic, which was why he found himself at the Batcomputer typing furiously.

“Timmy!” Dick called, and Tim internally sighed, “What’s up?” Dick came to his side and frowned, seeing the articles pulled up on Jason Todd. “Did something happen? Did he break the deal?”

A hint of anger leaked into Tim’s tone as he replied, “No. At least, not to my knowledge, but he hasn’t been seen in three months.”

Dick’s brows furrowed, “Red Hood patrolled yesterday, he was ignoring me when I was trying to ask about Sunday dinner.”

“That’s my point,” Tim said, as if explaining it to a toddler, “We’ve seen Red Hood, but not Jason. And we haven’t spoken to either.”

Dick’s face turned ashen, “You think he’s hurt? That this new Hood is covering for him?”

Tim hesitated, that was his second theory. He didn’t think it would be wise to voice his first.

“Oh God, if Little Wing’s hurt, and we didn’t check in…” he trailed off and Tim genuinely thought Ducks as going to puke on him, “I’m a terrible brother!”

Tim couldn’t resist, “You’re realizing that now?”

Dick winced, knowing he’d failed Jason the first time around and hadn’t treated Tim much better.

“What do we do?” The first Robin finally whispered.

“First, talk to Hood. We have to confirm things. We’ll go from there.”

—*—

Slade Wilson was many things, a mercenary, a bastard, a soldier, a husband, and a shitty father.

Now, he knew he’d long failed to be the sort of father his children deserved. He failed Grant - got him killed, he failed Rose, manipulating her to a point where she tried to kill herself (only surviving because of her cursed powers), and he failed Joey, costing his youngest his voice and his life for several years.

But he wasn’t so shitty a father that he didn’t care. He noticed when Rose vanished, when Ravager stopped taking jobs in the States and began a quiet tour around Europe. He noticed when she stopped her weekly emails - the ones he always pretended to ignore.

Initially he thought she realized it was futile and gave up on him, but after a moment he realized something was wrong.

He’d asked Joey if he’d heard from her and his youngest had signed that Rose said goodbye. Joey told him Rose wasn’t coming back, nor was she going to put any effort into remaining in touch.

Slade wasn’t so shitty a father that he couldn’t see his son’s hurt. With an awkward shoulder pat and the promise to find answers, he left Joey and began his hunt for his daughter.

Deathstroke was many things, a murderer, torturer, a villain, a monster, and a father.

It took him far too long to track her down, nearly another three months. Rose was good, covering her tracks effortlessly, but he’d taught her, and he hadn’t taught her everything.

Finally, he tracked her down to a little hotel in Venice, Italy. Outside the door, he took a deep breath and gripped his pistol tight. He didn’t know what he’d find, Rose, destructive and alcoholic and just as suicidal as she had been a few years ago, or Rose, sick of the life and wishing for normalcy.

He knocked on the wood, once, twice, before it opened a crack.

He’s recognize that brown eye anywhere - he saw it in the mirror. Rose’s silver hair covered part of her face and she looked terrified.

For a terrible moment, Slade thought he’d misread things, what if Rose hadn’t been complacent in this?

“What do you want, Slade?” She whispered, keeping the door as a wall between them.

His heart cracked at her use of his name, was it so long ago that she’d called him Dad with that joyful smile of hers?

“I was worried. No one’s heard from you in months. You burned bridges.”

She scowled, “So Joey talked.” She called her brother several nasty words in Mandarin.

Slade crossed his arms, “You told your brother you were leaving and wouldn’t keep in touch, how could you expect me not to check?”

Rose flinched, “I don’t know, Dad, any idea why I wouldn’t expect you to check on me?”

Slade frowned, “I know I haven’t been an amazing father, but I do care.”

Rose laughed, “Are you dying? Space cancer? ‘Cause why else would you be here?”

“You disappeared! Whether you like it or not, you’re my daughter, so I’m here to make sure you’re alright!” Slade knew he was about to lose his temper and his voice was raising.

To his complete and utter shock, Rose blanched and back away. His daughter never acted so fearful around him (he’d taught her better, and punished her until she could face Batman himself without a flinch).

“Rose?” A man’s voice called from inside the room. The man opened the door more and placed himself between Deathstroke and his daughter.

Slade stared and he knew his jaw had dropped at the sight before him. Batman’s banished brat, Jason Todd, the Red Hood, stood with a towel wrapped around his waist and his white and black hair was wet and tangled as though he’d just come out of the shower.

Not only that, but Rose was barely covered in a pink satin robe and she cradled a defined pregnancy bump.

The matching rings told him the rest of the story. Rose ran off, not in anger or for some mission, but to elope and get knocked up.

“How far?” He asked after a moment.

A tear slipped out his daughter’s eye - he hadn’t seen her cry since she was a teenager - she was now twenty-three. Jason was barely older, twenty-four, but his time in his grave made him a bit younger than Rose. “Seven months. We didn’t, this wasn’t,” She hesitated, “We weren’t planning on her. Found out shortly after getting married, so four months ago.”

“You got married, you’re pregnant with a little girl.” He whispered and knew his own eye shined with tears. His baby girl was a woman, a mother, a wife. “I’m sorry, I understand. I’ll stay away.”

Slade Wilson turned to leave, knowing he’d probably never see his daughter again.

“Wait!” Rose cried, and grabbed his hand, Slade faced her. “Please stay. I can’t watch you just leave again.” Her words were an odd mirror of Jason’s six months ago. “You’re going to be a Grandpa, and sure, you were a fucking awful dad, but I love you. Please.”

In a fluid motion Slade wrapped her in his arms and quietly sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rosie.”

“I forgive you, Dad. I forgive you.”

Slade opened his eye a crack and saw Jason smiling softly behind his wife.

Thank you. Slade mouthed, knowing the Bat Brat had protected and comforted his daughter where he’d failed.

Jason nodded, once but it was enough.

Slade Wilson was many things, a husband, a mercenary, a criminal, a father, and a grandfather. He’d lived a long, bitter life, and he was determined to let his anger die with him.

Slade Wilson knew he was a shitty father, getting more chances than he ever deserved, but for the first time he was going to make it count.

I love you, kid.

—*—

Six months later…

Batman frowned as he listened to Tim and Dick. This had been going on at least a year - a whole year where his son had ignored the family, stayed hidden in Crime Alley and never showed his face.

“Why, may I ask, did no one say anything sooner?” Bruce demanded and his sons flinched.

“We weren’t sure for a while, Hood wouldn’t talk. And when we were sure, we couldn’t tell whether Jason left of his own will or something else.” Tim explained.

Bruce’s gloved fist tightened, “You should’ve come to me the second you realized Hood wasn’t Jason. Why didn’t you?”

A hint of anger flashed in Tim’s eyes, “Jason’s an adult, in case you forgot, he can choose to leave Gotham if he wants. You can’t force him to stay, you can’t make any of us stay.”

Bruce stayed silent, seething with fury. “Leads?” He finally asked.

Dick spoke up, “Babs found a picture of a couple in Venice seven months ago.” He pulled out the picture, it showed Jason, at a small cafe table, laughing with a woman with silver curls. They shared a plate of scones and each had a mug of coffee. Bruce’s heart ached, his son looked happier in a small photo than he’d looked in years, not since Joker killed him.

“That’s Rose Wilson, Ravager, Deathstroke’s daughter.” Bruce realized, eyes widening. “What’s he doing with a Rouge?”

Dick frowned, “Rose isn’t a Rouge, yeah she’s a mercenary, but she’s more of a vigilante. She was part of the Titans for a while, and I still talk to Joey.”

“What did Joey say, assuming you followed that lead?” Bruce asked.

Dick and Tim shared a look, “He said Rose permanently left the States a year ago, left a message about cutting contact and just vanished.”

Tim interjected, “While that was true for a while, Babs hacked his phone. The whole started talking again about six months ago. She couldn’t access the call history, but something happened.”

“Why would he leave?” Dick whispered, “I thought the family was finally coming together.”

Tim sighed, as though this was an old argument between them. “Because he hated Gotham, because he felt abandoned, because he was worried Bruce wouldn’t let him be with Rose? I can think of a million reasons.”

Bruce’s scowl darkened, “Tim, you should’ve come forward earlier. You’re benched, I can’t trust you. Dick, talk to Babs, I want Jason found within twenty-four hours. I’ll talk to the false Hood.”

—*—

Chapter Text

With the certainty of a man who has something to live for after years of barely caring for himself, he regretted nothing.

He didn’t regret leaving the absolute mess of Bruce’s Family.

He didn’t regret Red Hood, or his streak as a crime lord.

He didn’t regret the Outlaws, his friends, his real family.

He didn’t regret Rose.

Jason Todd was many things, a murder, a Robin, an orphan, and a father.

Bruce Wayne wanted to take that from him.

Jason awoke with a start, sweating profusely and heart pounding.

—*—

Six months ago, Slade Wilson had showed up at his and Rose’s hotel room in Venice. Six months ago Slade Wilson proved he had a heart. Six months ago, Slade Wilson, the fucking Deathstroke the Terminater, proved to be a better father than Bruce Wayne. There, the older man saw his precious daughter was married and pregnant, and he realized he’d fucked up. There, Slade Wilson began the long road of repentance and of repairing things.

In those six months, Slade set up an absurdly secure safe house for the newly wedded couple in Oregon. It was a lovely place, a whitewashed, shoreside cottage with lots of lavender planted around. He said it was a belated wedding gift. Rose had cried.

The two of them moved in quickly, and worked quickly to prepare for the baby. Rose was in the late stages of the pregnancy - they didn’t have much time.

The day Jason Todd held their lovely, beautiful, perfect newborn daughter for the first time, he cried. Not because he missed his family, if you could even call Bruce that, or because she had Catherine’s eyes (even though they shared no blood), but because he knew his daughter would grow up with the love that he didn’t.

Josephine Harper Todd looked just like her mother - silver hair and all. She’d grow up with a doting (mostly reformed) grandfather, an uncle who’d kill for her (even though he was a hero), and parents who’d burned their pasts so they could have a future.

Now, Josephine was four months old. They called her Joey Jr. and pretended not to see the way Joey’s eyes watered at that. Jason was holding her gently above his head and he slowly twirled in the kitchen of the cottage.

“And the princess killed the dragon herself, she didn’t need no prince! And someday, you’ll be just as strong and brave.” He finished the silly story, he’d made it up as he went.

Beside them, Rose cooed softly. “She love’s her daddy’s voice. See how she smiles?” His wife embraced him and kissed his cheek.

“I love you, so so much.” He told her.

She grinned, “Are you trying to get me to clean her diaper? We both know it’s your turn.”

Jason sighed dramatically but made his way to the changing table, Rose laughing behind him. “Wash your hands and then we’ll see about those kisses I promised you earlier!”

He smirked, “You drive a hard bargain, but I accept.”

Rose snorted, “Washing your hands isn’t a hard bargain, you’re ridiculous. Anyway, hurry up, my family’s going to be here in a few hours.”

“That’s enough time for a shower.” Jason raised his eyebrow suggestively and Rose didn’t even blush - she was used to his flirtation.

“Yes, if you hurry up. We still have to finish the pasta. Joey’s brining the salad, and Dad’s brining a pie.”

Jason’s brows shot up, “Since when can your father bake?”

Rose shrugged, “No idea. Thirty bucks says it was for some undercover assignment.”

Jason nodded, “I’ll take that.” The two had a running joke where they would bet on random details, it was ridiculous because they shared financial accounts. However, Rose had a competitive streak and was keeping track of her victories (she planned to make Jason buy her a new motorbike).

“Oh,” Rose said suddenly, “I have an odd question.”

“Yes?”

“Have you heard anything from Gotham? My sources say the Bats are in a frenzy. Red Robin’s ‘benched’, Batman’s about to murder someone, and the rest are bickering.” Rose hated to bring up Gotham - it was a bitter subject - but she knew Jason needed to be aware.

Her husband stiffened, his face blanking and she prayed that she hadn’t sent him into a flashback. Like most kids who were brutally beaten by their fathers, Jason had a nasty case of PTSD.

Finally, he replied. “I spoke to Billy yesterday, he’s been wearing the hood for almost a year.” They’d left Gotham a year ago, which was when Jason gave his mantle to his lieutenant. “He said that Red Robin and Nightwing kept questioning him, but he didn’t confirm anything. If something happened in Gotham, they probably finally told Bruce that I left.”

Rose was quiet for a second, before she commented bitterly, “Ironic how the man who calls you ‘son’ didn’t notice you were out of his city for a year.”

Jason shrugged, “To be fair, we hadn’t spoken out of the mask since Roy died. And I did leave a replacement. Batman simply didn’t care enough to notice.”

Rose touched his shoulder gently, “Still. Slade realized I’d disappeared within three months then relentlessly searched for me. He was a bad father, but he noticed. You deserved a father who cared.”

Jason cut her off with a kiss, “I don’t need a father anymore, I am one. Joey Jr. won’t suffer what we went through.”

Rose snorted, “Because we know everything not to do!”

He smiled, “Right. We know all the parenting methods to avoid.”

“Now about those kisses,” Rose said, leaning in.

He was quite happy to oblige her (after he washed his hands of course).

—*—

The dinner went quite well. The four of them, Rose, Jason, Joey, and Slade, chatted casually throughout the time. No one mentioned herowork, no one mentioned Gotham. It was strangely domestic.

As the night progressed, Jason broke out a bottle of red wine. Rose was grateful for a glass (she loved being able to drink again, and had complained about it throughout the pregnancy). They talked about harder things, about Grant and about Bruce.

Slade sighed, “If I had his body, I’d have used the Lazarus pits already. Even though I know the side effects, even though Ra’s would be after my head. I just wish he was alive.”

Rose was quiet for a second, she’d never met Grant, but she’d heard stories from Joey. “What happened to his body?” She asked.

Slade grimaced, “I belive the League stole it. Talia probably. It would be the perfect leverage.”

Joey scowled and his hands signed furiously. Jason was never so grateful that he’d worked with Cass while in the Batfamily - otherwise he never could’ve tracked it.

“If they have his body, what’s to say they haven’t already used the pits? They’re rarely effective on the recently deceased. Hell, we all know the odds. If Talia truly took him, he might be alive right now.”

Slade dropped his glass of wine, which shattered on the wood floor and spilled red like a pool of blood. Joey had made a connection that none of them had previously realized. Hell, in most universes Slade assumed his son was dead until Grant confronted him. But here, in this tiny world where all the dominoes fell in a perfect way, where Rose agreed to run off with Jason, where Slade became a better father, where they formed their own little broken family, they had a chance.

“Grant’s alive?” He finally whispered, voice shaking. Deathstroke the fucking Terminator’s voice shook.

Joey shrugged, but it was too late. Rose was already on her feet. “Well! Let’s go rescue him!”

Jason loved his impulsive wife, but even she knew that was suicide. “We can’t invade the League, demanding Grant. We have to be smart about this.”

“Right. Let’s kill the Al Ghuls and take over instead.” Rose conceded.

Joey choked on his wine, signing in panic. “No way. I’m a reserve Titan, I can’t be seen attacking the League of Assassins!”

Rose glared at her brother until her slumped in his seat, defeated.

Slade cleared his throat, “Well. We have a few hours until sunrise, let’s work on this.”

—*—

Meanwhile, in Gotham.

The Batfamily had been crumbling for years, long before Jason returned and left. But only Tim had truly realized it.

He’d seen the way Bruce led, not as a father, but as a general. Stephanie still cried at night about Black Mask, about giving up her daughter - which Bruce had convinced her to do - and about her mother, who’d died a few years ago after Cluemaster escaped Arkam.

Cass’ trips back to Gotham were fewer and fewer each year - at this point Tim suspected she only returned for Steph’s sake. Although she was Bruce’s only daughter, she’d thoroughly distanced herself from the family.

Barbara had turned bitter. Joker took her legs, but Gotham broke her spirit, years of working beside Batman - but never his equal - took its toll. Barbara could no longer respect anyone’s right to privacy, it had alienated both her civilian and hero friends. She’d simply lost faith in humanity, and Tim hadn’t seen her happy for a very long time.

Damian was a mess - quiet, lonely, and spiteful. When he’d first come to Gotham, Tim could admit he hated the little brat, but now, upon realizing how miserable he was, Tim pitied him. Now, Damian spent all his time with the Titans, with Superman’s son and a select group of civilians. At this point, Damian’s status as Bruce’s son was merely ceremonial, the teenager had long given up hope of having the family he’d craved.

And lastly Dick. Bruce’s first ward - but never his son - perhaps had the worst lot of them all. Tim knew how Bruce used to smack Dick around, Tim knew that Dick ran away at fifteen to live the Titans after Bruce tried to take Robin - his mother’s name - from him. Over the last year, after Jason left, their relationship deteriorated rapidly. Dick grew a spine and refused to keep pretending everything was fine. Apparently, Kory gave him an ultimatum. She refused to marry him and start a family when Bruce couldn’t respect her. After Dick set boundaries, Bruce lost it, resulting in him being forbidden from attending the wedding. Now, the two were expecting a set of twins, and Bruce would never know.

When Tim came to Dick with his realization that Jason had fled Gotham, Dick had been destroyed. Nightwing had desperately tried to build a relationship with his brother - especially knowing how poorly he’d failed in Jason’s first life. However, Jason never responded well, assuming Dick’s attempts weren’t genuine. Tim and Dick hadn’t hidden their realization maliciously, it was a test for Bruce.

Tim wanted to see if Bruce would notice his son had left.

Tim wanted proof that deep down Bruce cared.

Dick wanted his father to love them.

They were both disappointed.

When they finally came to Bruce, their man had been furious. He blamed them for hiding it, and now, Tim was benched.

Tim threw his pillow at his bedroom ceiling and shouted in anger. How dare he? Tim did nothing wrong - Bruce was blaming him for his own shortcomings.

“Oh, fuck you!” Tim yelled, hoping that Bruce could somehow hear him.

Tim wasn’t going to lie down and take this, Jason left, proving it was possible to escape. Bruce had lost two sons now, and he would have no one to blame but himself.

—*—