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The burn was not so much as severe as it was sudden; disappearing just as Robin managed to register it.
He staggered, righted himself, fumbled again. He went down, hard, new pain surging through his entire system as his shoulder collided with the ground.
Robin rolled, no, Robin tried to roll but the pain overwhelmed all else and it was all he could do to fight against the encroaching darkness. He needed to defend himself, needed to fight, needed to get to safety but the moment he raised a smoke bomb to secure his escape, the small ball slipped from his grasp and fell uselessly to the ground.
He tried to rise instead but his entire field of vision greyed, the pain sharpening into outright agony as he pressed a hand against his shoulder.
Acid burned through his throat but he forced it down, shielding his head just in time for the boot to hit his arm.
Another kick and Robin was thrown backwards, not only from the blow itself but the fierce burning in shoulder because the motherfucker had aimed specifically for where the bullet had entered.
A hand gripped Robin’s hair and he was yanked up to his feet. He kicked out as hard as he could but his attacker was a fucking brute, lifting him fully up off the ground and laughing when Robin tried and failed to make them let go.
Robin scrambled to free himself, to kick out, to punch, to do anything at all but his shoulder was screaming and there were still fingers clutching his hair and oh shit he really couldn’t get himself free, he couldn’t get himself in a position to either attack or defend.
No, he could always attack. He clawed at the motherfuckers face, at their eyes, at whatever skin he could reach and he must have managed to do something right because all at once he was back on the ground again, a scream echoing in his ear.
Robin scrambled backwards, a hand pressed hard against his wound as if that could possibly stop the bleeding.
Bleeding. He was bleeding. He was bleeding and he was alone and Batman was meant to be here, Batman was always meant to be here.
There was so much blood pouring down his arm that he felt woozy from it, not so much from the pain that was finally ebbing away but from the sheer amount of life-force the was draining from him. It shouldn’t be bleeding that much, he shouldn’t be bleeding that much.
It wasn’t fear that thrummed through Robin, through Jason, but outright fury. Fury that he’d been hit at all, fury that they’d dare shoot at him to begin with, fury that no matter how hard he pressed against his arm the blood still flowed through his fingers.
The fury that Batman wasn’t here, most of all.
There were still three criminals up and on their feet, all stalking towards him even as he pressed his back against a wall.
The largest, the one that had held him up but his fucking hair was a woman that now had deep scratches across her entire face. Her fists were curled so tightly that Robin’s ribs already hurt from blows that had yet to come but he would not allow himself to back down.
Robin should say something. He should quip, not only to calm his fraying nerves but to maybe diffuse the situation a little or better yet to confuse the bastards for long enough for his strength to return enough to be able to fight back.
He should say something, anything, but the only sound that passed through his lips was a moan.
It hurt.
It hurt.
Jason had been shot before, of course he had, he’d been Robin for nearly a full year now and there was barely a day that passed without him at the very least seeing a gun if not being on the receiving end of one but this gun had gone off at such close range that it could have very well exploded bone.
The thought made the nausea return full force but Robin refused to let himself tremble.
While he knew that he should fight or at the very least run, Robin’s legs just kicked out uselessly, pressing him ever harder against the wall as if he might be able to disappear into it entirely.
“Please.”
The word was as broken as it was surprising but as soon as Robin had said it, it became almost like a chant.
“Please, don’t, please,” His eyes burned hot. “Please, I’m sorry, please,”
The woman laughed and one of the men did too but he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t. His shoulder was on fire and his stomach kept lurching and the whole world was spinning and he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t, he begged and he sobbed and he pressed harder against the wall and he pleaded with his Dad to stop, to please stop, please, he loves him, he loves him so much, please, stop.
There was a broken sound then, a sound that Jason knew would only infuriate Willis more but he couldn’t stop, Jason couldn’t stop, Dad couldn’t stop.
Jason curled into himself, trying and failing to protect his head except no blow came down on him.
He rocked in place, knowing better than to think that Dad had walked away unless it was to get another beer or maybe a belt and Jason knew that he should use this reprieve to think of something to say, to think of anything that could possibly make up for whatever he’s done wrong this time but the only words that came were please and don’t and I’m sorry.
Jason needed to work out the right words, he’d done it once before and Dad had even apologised and they’d gone out for ice cream and Jason wanted to get ice cream again if it meant that Dad wasn’t angry with him.
There were shouts.
That… That was not Dad’s voice.
No, it wasn’t really shouts either but exclamations of surprise and pain and Jason just curled tighter into his ball because Dad must have brought friends and Dad never brings friends home and Jason was sorry, he was so sorry.
A hand touched Jason’s own and he screamed, he screamed and he begged and he shook and he was, he was, he was…
“Please, don’t, please, I’m sorry, please,”
“Robin,”
“I’ll do better, please, Dad, please,”
“Robin, you need to breathe Lad.”
He needed to do better, he would do better, Dad loved him, Dad loved him and it was something that Jason had done that made him upset and Jason would make it up to him, he needed to make it up to him. Dad didn’t want to be angry, he never wanted to be angry.
Dad’s fists did not hit him, nor did his boot or his words or anything at all. Dad was just towering over him, was just waiting for Jason to say the right words and he would say them this time, he would, please, he could say them this time.
The shadow bent down low and Jason flinched back hard despite knowing that would just make it hurt worse and the whole world was thrumming with pain and Jason was sorry, he was so sorry, he would do better, he needed to do better.
“Robin…”
“Please, I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry, please,”
“Jaylad.”
He was sorry, he was so sorry, he was… He was… Jaylad?
He was Jaylad.
“Jaylad, I need you to slow down your breathing.”
Breathing. He was breathing? No. Yes? He didn’t know. He was hurting, he was hurting so bad but that was okay because Dad didn’t mean it, he never meant it. They were going to get ice cream, they would always get ice cream so long as the bruises didn’t show.
“I’m sorry,” Jason sobbed. “Please, I’m sorry.”
“Jason.”
He flinched again. He shouldn’t have, fuck, he knew he shouldn’t have but Dad was angry with him and it was going to hurt and he could take it, he could always take it.
“Jaylad.”
Jason.
Jaylad.
Jason.
Jaylad.
Please.
“Breathe, Jaylad. I’m going to touch your hand and move it to my chest, okay?”
The words swirled as much as the world itself did. They made sense, maybe, at least they made sense as a hand touched his own again and he didn’t flinch this time, he could do good, he needed to do good, he didn’t flinch this time.
Jason waited to be yanked up to his feet, waited to be shown exactly what he had done wrong but the hand on his own didn’t pull him, it simply guided his hand to something warm and familiar.
A heart, steady and consistent.
A heart?
Jason didn’t remember if he had ever felt Dad’s heart beat before. Except… That wasn’t quite true. When he was younger, when Dad was happier, he would lay against his Dad’s chest and just hear it beat.
It had always sounded so strong, it had always sounded so real.
“Follow my breaths, Lad.”
Jason’s shoulder was burning. He was burning. There was blood, there was blood and he couldn’t stop it this time and that meant that they weren’t going to get ice cream, not until Jason could prove that he had cleaned it all up.
“Jaylad. Follow my breaths.”
He whined, ducking his head in embarrassment because he was meant to be a big kid now, he wasn’t meant to make ridiculous sounds like that.
Dad’s chest shifted as he took in a big breath, a breath way too big to be natural. Then he held it, his heart still beating steadily, before finally releasing it.
Jason tried to follow, he tried so damn hard to follow but the breath caught and he was burning and he just wanted things to be okay again, he wanted things to go back to they way that they had been and he just wanted Dad to hold him and take him out to ice cream but the moment that Dad inched towards him once more, Jason pressed further against the wall, trying to keep the space between them far enough so that Jason could stop another blow from hitting him.
“I am not going to hurt you, Lad.”
But Jason deserved it, he must deserve it, the alternative was too much to bear.
It wasn’t abuse, no matter what the school counsellor tried to say it wasn’t abuse because abuse only happens when there’s no reason and Dad always has a reason.
“I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry,”
“Jason. I am not going to hurt you but I do need to put pressure on your shoulder.”
Pressure?
On the shoulder that was already on fire? No. Fuck no. There was no way in absolute hell that anyone could so much as graze against his shoulder without unrelenting agony, the mere thought of someone fully pressing down onto it sent new bile climbing up his throat.
“Jaylad,”
But Jason was already shaking his head. His own hand was already against the ravaged skin, Dad didn’t need to touch it too. If anything, Jason would prefer the boots to his ribs or a belt to his skin, anything except a hand on his shoulder.
“The bleeding is significant. I need to stem it.”
Jason shook his head again but the entire world shook with it. He made another sound, trying his best to keep it quiet as to not anger Dad more.
Dad.
Dad?
That… Wasn’t Dad.
Dad sometimes looked like a shadow, especially that time that Jason had accidentally hit his head on the counter on the way down to the ground but he had never seemed like… This, before.
A shadow, yes, but somehow not a dangerous one.
That voice was different too and Jason only distantly registered that his hand was still on Not-Dad’s chest. Jason’s breath caught again, realising that he had at some point stopped apologising. He couldn’t stop, he could never stop, Dad was only going to get angrier and-
And that wasn’t Dad.
But it also… Was?
“B?” Jason croaked.
“I’m right here, Jaylad. I’ve got you.”
“B… It hurts. Please. I, I thought I could take it but… Please, make it stop.”
“Just keep breathing for me, Lad.”
Bruce, no, Batman shifted, inching closer to Robin.
Robin.
He was Robin.
Robin could handle this; Robin could handle anything.
And so he breathed. He breathed and he focused and he told himself that it was necessary to let Batman put pressure on his wound but as soon as Batman’s hand was hovering above Robin’s own, Robin was scrambling as far away from him as he could get even as new pain ripping through him.
The entire world pulsed white but when Robin pressed harder against the wound hoping that if he put pressure on it then Batman wouldn’t have to, the universe threatened to become an empty abyss instead.
There was a hand, not on the wound but on Robin’s other shoulder, keeping him from falling fully to the side.
Robin blinked, the blurs refining slowly as sensation crept back into him.
“B…”
The word, the name, was barely more than a whisper.
“Easy, Jaylad.”
“Everything feels… Weird.”
Even his mouth felt weird, his ears hearing words he didn’t quite remember speaking.
Blood loss, or simply an adrenaline drop.
Shit, adrenaline drops are no joke. He blinked again, realising that the world had threatened to fade once more. Robin tried to stand but his legs barely moved at all and it was all he could do to tilt his head up a little to meet Batman’s eye.
“Batman, I can still fight, there were these guys, well, a guy and a girl and-“
And they were laying several feet away. Unconscious. Bleeding. Absolutely alive though and at no risk of succumbing to their injuries.
Jason was blinking again because he was bleeding too. He glanced down, watching a drop of red slide down from his hand onto his wrist only vaguely realising that he’d taken it away from his shoulder to begin with.
Batman became bigger all at once, no, he had come closer, his hand reaching out towards Jason’s shoulder.
Jason bared his teeth, kicking Batman’s shin as hard as he could.
“Jaylad.”
The admonition was barely an admonition at all, more like a concerned warning because Jason very much did need to have pressure on his shoulder to keep him from passing out completely and yet Jason’s blood boiled all the same because Batman was trying to tell him what to do and Jason didn’t want to do it.
He didn’t want pressure on his stupid GSW, he didn’t want to have a GSW to begin with. He also didn’t want Batman to leave though and as soon as the vigilante rocked backwards on his heel, Jason let off a whimper.
“We need to get you to the Cave.”
Getting to the cave would involve moving and Robin didn’t want to move, Jason didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay here in this kitchen forever and-
And he wasn’t in a kitchen at all.
Jason swallowed roughly, his head spinning.
Dad was crowded above him, yelling at him for some thing or another and yet Jason’s heart didn’t beat right out of his chest because he knew somehow that Willis wasn’t actually there at all. Bruce was though and while Bruce had always promised that he would never intentionally hurt Jason, it was going to hurt like hell if Bruce even attempted to put pressure on his wound.
“Everything feels weird.” Jason mumbled.
He… Had said that before.
At least, he thought that he might have said that before. He… Didn’t know.
“Jaylad.”
Batman’s voice was tight for some reason. Not angry, not really, but tight all the same.
“’s okay B.” Robin said. “Doesn’t burn anymore.”
And it didn’t, not really. It still hurt but it was dull now, as dull as Ms Hobbs somehow makes history class.
Oh. He needed to work on his history shit when he gets home.
Wait… Was he at home?
No.
No, he wasn’t.
He wasn’t anywhere at all except the darkness.
The burn was so much as severe as it was lingering; staying right in his chest no matter what Jason did to try to force it away.
He’d acted so ridiculous, begging and crying like that and yet Bruce had done nothing except hold him and soothe him as if Jason deserved such gentle contact.
Even now with Jason’s arm bound tightly, the bandages disappearing beneath the fabric of one of Dick’s old shirts, the shame still burned hot.
He’d only gotten shot, it really wasn’t that big of a deal and yet he had freaked the fuck out not only in front of Bruce but on security feeds too, feeds that while Jason had purged them the moment he had found them he knew all too well that Barbara would have backups of it.
Jason made himself as small as possible, tucked in the corner of his closet in a useless attempt to hide away from that feeling in his chest.
It had only been a single GSW, he should have handled it better, he needed to have handled it better. He wasn’t just some kid who needed to cry for Mommy the moment he got scared, he was supposed to be Robin.
He was supposed to be Jason Todd and Jason Todd doesn’t get scared, not anymore and he certainly isn’t meant to get scared of the mere memory of his Dad in one of his moods.
Jason pressed harder against the wood, demanding that his hands stop trembling. Even now his shoulder ached, the pain medication that Alfred had insisted on him taking having been flushed down the toilet the moment Jason got the chance. He didn’t want the meds any more than he wanted to show his face again.
Meds was what made Mom like that and Mom was what made Dad like that and right now Jason didn’t want anything to do with either of them.
At least, he didn’t want anything to do with Willis.
At least, he didn’t want anything to do with Willis if Willis was upset with him.
Jason curled, biting his trembling lip.
Who was he kidding, despite everything he still wanted his Dad. He needed him, needed Willis to ruffle his hair and call him Kiddo, needed the kind loving Dad that had become less and less common the more involved Dad got with the bad guys.
Bad guys that as Robin, Jason was now meant to be able to face without sobbing and crying like some snivelling kid.
Jason’s shoulder outright throbbed as he readjusted, his head spinning with it.
Stupid, he’d acted so stupid and yet he still shook at the idea of Willis really coming to get him, coming to hurt him.
There was a knock, one that tore straight through Jason’s heart. He curled tighter, making himself as small as he could be to provide less of a target even though he knew fucking well that the person behind that door wasn’t Willis Todd.
He didn’t know who it was instead but it wasn’t his deadbeat Dad.
But… But maybe it was. Maybe this time, now that he’d had time enough to think, he could come up with the right words finally. Maybe Dad wouldn’t get mad this time, maybe they genuinely could go out for ice cream without it being an apology.
Or maybe it was no one at all and he had just imagined the sound.
No one had come in, not even when Jason dared to look through the crack in the closet.
He really had imagined it.
Another knock, a little louder, one that sent Jason’s heart hammering against his chest.
“Jaylad,”
The voice was rough. Distant, too, as though it really was behind Jason’s bedroom door and not just the closet itself.
“Can…” Bruce cleared his throat. “Can I come in?”
Jason didn’t want Bruce to see him like this, he couldn’t let Bruce see him like this. It had already been bad enough when he’d been bleeding on that warehouse floor, screaming at a guy who wasn’t fucking there to begin with, there was absolutely no way he was going to let Bruce find him trembling in a closet like he was some scared kid.
He wasn’t a kid, he was practically a teenager now and that meant he shouldn’t be trembling!
“Jaylad,”
Jason’s lip wobbled harder.
“See,” Bruce said.
See, you’re pathetic.
See, you’re childish.
See, I never should have taken you in to begin with.
“He doesn’t want to speak with me.”
“That is quite enough, Sir, you have given the boy three days. I will not stand for the two of you dancing around the issue forevermore. I will have cookies in the sunroom but only if it is both of you who come in to get them.”
“Alfred, you can’t be-”
There was silence for a beat, Alfred no doubt quirking a brow.
Jason didn’t flinch. He didn’t. Alfred would never raise a hand against him, never. Then again, maybe Alfred didn’t need to in order to rip Jason’s stuttering heart apart.
Bruce made a loud huff and Jason couldn’t stop his head from ducking down low.
A knock, quiet once more.
“Jason? Can I come in, please?”
Bruce didn’t need permission; this was his house. His rules. Jason might be a dumb street kid, but he knew that concept more than most.
“Jason,”
Jason tried to disappear but it only made his shoulder ache worse.
“Jason, can I come in?”
He tried and failed to get his throat to work. Jason cleared it, tried again.
“Whatever.”
Silence, this time lasting an eternity.
At last, the door clicked open and Jason needed to clamp his uninjured hand against his mouth to stop the whimper from coming out.
The footsteps faltered for a moment because unlike Batman, Bruce sometimes does that.
“Lad? Are... Are you in here?”
Given that he’d literally spoken, yes, yes Jason was fucking in here.
Then again, he shouldn’t still be in the closet. Bruce was going to be furious with him, acting so ridiculous as to hide in the closet.
“Oh,” Bruce said.
Jason curled tighter.
Bruce’s footsteps were slow to approach and then the man was slower still to kneel and then outright sit outside of the closet.
“You know,” Bruce said. “I used to hide in there too.”
Jason bit his lip so hard he almost expected blood.
“Especially after I lost my parents. It always felt… Safe, in there. Warm.”
The only thing that was warm was the shame bubbling deep in his chest.
“I suppose you heard that,” Bruce said. “About the cookies.”
So that was why Bruce bothered to approach Jason at all, fucking cookies.
“Alfred has made your favourite, I’m sure,”
“Go away.”
“I can’t do that, Jason.”
Scratch that, the tears prickling Jason’s eyes burned pretty fucking hot too.
“That is,” Bruce said. “I don’t want to leave you here all on your own.”
“I’m fine.” Jason forced out. “Go away.”
“Can I at least check out your shoulder?”
“Go away!”
Jason hadn’t meant for it to sound so raw but his entire being was shaking and his shoulder was killing him and he just wanted to disappear fully into the wood. Hell, if he could reach Narnia from in here, he would, if only to get away from Bruce’s fury.
Bruce’s shame.
He finally knew that Jason wasn’t cut out to be Robin.
The tear that slipped free was unbidden and unwanted, just like Jason himself.
“My heart stopped,” Bruce said.
Jason stilled.
“When your eyes rolled back. I… Should have been prepared for it, I knew just how serious your injury was and yet… And yet my heart still stopped.”
Because Bruce was that furious with him, that disappointed that Jason would freak out like that even without an ounce of Fear Toxin in him.
“I was scared, Jason,”
And now Bruce was coming up with some absolute bullshit. Bruce Wayne, scared? Scared of losing Handsomest Bachelor for the tenth year in a row, maybe.
“I was scared that I was going to lose you. And, I was scared that I had upset you.”
Maybe Jason really had been killed by the bullet because just what the hell was the old man talking about?
Jason was that had embarrassed his guardian, Jason was the one who had cried and screamed and begged over literally nothing, Jason was the one who was so fucked in the head that he couldn’t even get shot right.
Bruce was right, Jason didn’t deserve to be Robin.
The silence dragged and Jason’s head spun from how hard his hand was clamped against his mouth, absolutely refusing to ever make such a pathetic ridiculous display in front of Bruce ever again.
Bruce cleared his throat. Shifted his weight too, the wood creaking beneath him.
“I understand that things were different for you. That you were in a very dangerous situation in the one place that you should feel the safest. I also understand that just one year here will never erase what you have been through but… But I want you to know that you are safe here.”
Bruce couldn’t promise that, of course he couldn’t promise that. Hell, Bruce’s training alone had given Jason more bruises than Willis ever could and even though Jason had asked for that, it didn’t change the fact that this house was no safer than the one he’d shared with his Mom and Dad.
“Go away,”
It was a rasp, a ridiculous pathetic rasp but it was all Jason could manage.
“Jason,” Bruce said. “Can you please at least take the pain medication? You don’t have to be in pain.”
Jason shook his head hard, new tears welling up at the thought of overdosing.
“Easy, Lad,” Bruce said.
The door of the closet creaked, Bruce pressing a hand against it.
“This medication is not addictive. It won’t fully erase the pain, it’s not strong enough to, but it might at least take the edge off.”
It was a lie.
It wasn’t a lie.
Bruce had proven time and again that these walls were indeed safe, even if Jason’s nerves couldn’t currently believe it.
Jason’s shoulder thrummed in pain if only to remind him of just how much it hurt.
“Go away,”
A whisper, then, bordering on a whimper.
“I can- I can look after myself.”
“You can.” Bruce said without hesitation. “And you have. But you can also depend on Alfred and myself if it ever gets too much. We want to help you, Jason.”
“Because I’m some charity case?” Jason snapped. “Or because it’d be too much effort to get a new Robin?”
“Because you are ours, Jason.”
The entire universe stilled.
“You are mine, for as long as you want to be and while you are mine, I will do my best to keep you safe no matter what.”
Jason trembled.
He reached out, slowly, nudging the door open just enough to see Bruce.
“You’re not…” Jason swallowed roughly. “You’re not embarrassed?”
For as quick as Bruce could control his expressions usually, the genuine confusion lingered.
“About what?”
“About, you know,”
With his one free arm, Jason gestured to himself, fighting against every urge to tuck the hand behind his back when he saw just how hard it was shaking.
He dipped his head low, his voice dropping even lower.
“About how I freaked out?”
“Freaked out?” Bruce echoed. “Jason, you were shot.”
“So?”
“You were in pain and scared, it’s no wonder that bad memories mixed with the present.”
Bad memories? Bruce was acting as though Jason hadn’t literally screamed like a useless pathetic child, begging his Dad not to hurt him.
Jason regretted ever opening that damn door. No, he regretted ever coming to this damn house in the first place.
“Jaylad,” Bruce said. “Are you… Happy, here?”
“In the closet?” Jason said dryly.
Bruce did not even humour him with a roll of his eyes, looking instead so resolute that it honestly made Jason tremble a little harder.
“At Wayne Manor.”
Yes.
The answer came without hesitation, without any doubt at all which was exactly why he should doubt his position here in the first place. It didn’t matter what paperwork had been signed, Jason wasn’t really Bruce’s son.
Dick was.
Jason was just a charity case, taken from a ‘dangerous’ home that wasn’t dangerous so long as he followed the rules.
Except Jason wasn’t a charity case. He knew that he wasn’t, knew that Bruce hadn’t just picked up off the street just because he looked a little like Dick when he was younger.
Jason was Robin. Despite how ridiculous he had acted the other day, Jason was still Robin and Batman and Robin were partners. Batman had saved him, despite Jason having cried like that, Batman had still saved him and maybe that meant the Bruce didn’t loathe Jason either.
“You don’t have to answer right now,” Bruce suddenly rushed out. “In fact, it is probably unfair to ask in the first place, I know that things are complicated right now and even though it’s been a year, you have every right to-”
“Yes.” Jason whispered.
“To change your mind or, wait, what did you say?”
Jason’s ears burned hot and he tried and failed to bury his head completely.
“Yes.” He muttered. “I like it here.”
“Oh,” Bruce said.
It was like Bruce was surprised with the answer, the same answer that was literally the least complicated thing in Jason Todd’s entire life.
“I mean, Alfred’s food is the best.” Jason said. “And… And I like being with you… Dad.”
Dad.
This Dad, at least, was safe.