Chapter Text
Crime Alley reeked of the despairing scent that had been festering for decades. Once high society's Park Row, it had morphed into the worst Gotham had to offer.
To blame that decline on one mugging gone wrong would be unreasonable. Nevertheless, that mugging was the reason for Batman's presence in the crime-ridden alleyways tonight, twenty-three years later to the exact day.
Maybe he would always be that kid, scarred by what he'd witnessed. Maybe he was trying to prevent another from enduring something as painful.
Logically, Bruce knew his habit of returning to the miserable place annually was irrational. One night where he managed to quell crime in the Alley wouldn't do a thing the next day or night when he had more significant places to be. But if he couldn't escape the memory, the Alley wouldn't either.
Dick was gone — as he was often recently for missions with the Titans — up in New York. Bruce couldn't deny him that or begrudge him for it, but he could still insist on regular returns home and frequent video calls to keep himself sane knowing Robin was safe. Missions off-world occasionally complicated matters, but they were working around that.
Tonight, Bruce was relieved Robin couldn't join him. Alfred could discourage Batman's brooding-based behaviors all he liked, but this was one Bruce needed. Alone.
He slunk through the dim alleys, glided between the darkened rooftops, and carefully monitored his surroundings. As crime-ridden as Crime Alley was, tonight, the population was subdued.
Criminals tended to be more paranoid than observant, but that paranoia had clearly allowed them to pick up on Batman's pattern. After years of returning to these dark streets the same night, they'd caught on.
Of course, he still wasn't enough to scare sense into all of them.
Before midnight, Batman had stopped a mugging and disarmed two gang members he recognized for work they'd done under Penguin in the past. After leaving the criminals he'd caught bound and easy to find, he ensured Gordon sent trustworthy GCPD cops to pick them up with enough evidence to earn each perp a stay at Blackgate.
Returning to where he'd left the Batmobile hours before his patrol usually ended, Bruce was considering a change in routine visits. Even if his visits lost their symbolic connection to the past, he'd be more able to catch and scare criminals to their senses if they couldn't anticipate him.
With that on his mind, he nearly didn't notice the missing tires. The Batmobile's front tires were already gone, and upon closer inspection, a third in the rear was being removed. Just as the scrawny black-haired kid unscrewed the final lug nut and tugged the tire free, Bruce cleared his throat.
Dark blue eyes shot up toward Batman. "Whoops."
"I think you've got something of mine," Bruce deadpanned.
The kid set the tire against the Batmobile and quickly picked up his tire iron to hide it behind his back. Not nearly fast enough.
"I was trying to figure out how to put it back," the boy confidently lied.
"You just happened to have a tire iron for the job?"
He looked almost sheepish for a moment at getting caught. "That's not what it's for."
"What's it for then?"
This kid, who hardly looked older than ten, smirked. "This." And before Bruce saw it coming, the tire iron was smacked with the full force of a child's strength into his stomach.
Even with armor on, getting a hit like that with no chance to brace hurt. With the wind briefly knocked out of him, Bruce watched the boy grab the tire — which was by no means light — and run away with it.
"Try and catch me, you big boob!"
A breathless laugh fought its way out of him at the sight. Impossibly, the kid's antics had earned Bruce a real laugh, in Crime Alley of all places, tonight of all nights.
Recovering from the hit, Bruce had to follow the kid if he wanted his tires back. Impressively, the kid made that quite difficult. If Bruce wasn't Batman and had instead been a random citizen who'd had their tires jacked, he'd have had no luck tracking the little thief.
As it was, Bruce trailed him to an old, condemned building that appeared abandoned. Yet, the kid climbed the fire escape, tire clutched under one arm, and crawled inside like the place was home.
Following after him, Bruce could see why the building was condemned. Collapsed floorboards to lower levels, peeling and cracked walls, severe water damage, and decay over all of it. The graffiti and trash around indicated the place was frequented by some, but that didn't make it lived in. The boy had disappeared into a room on one side of the hall with the only fully intact door.
Bruce followed the path of broken, rickety floorboards the boy must've walked and leapt across. Listening in through the door before entering the room, Bruce didn't hear anyone speaking. The boy was the only one in the room, realistically the only one in the entire building.
When he did make his entrance, it was to find the boy sitting criss-cross on the floor, inspecting the tires and lighting a cigarette like a true juvenile delinquent.
"That'll stunt your growth, kid."
Startled by Batman's sudden appearance, the kid whipped his head around and fumbled the cigarette, brushing against his hand as it fell.
"Ow—" he exclaimed, brushing the burn off before stamping the cigarette out underfoot when he stood. "D'you follow me? Fine, have your tires back. I don't need 'em."
He sounded confident enough — learned from a life in Crime Alley, no doubt — but as he spoke, he stood and backed away from Batman with arms crossed in front of himself. Scared.
"You live here?" Bruce asked as he looked around, only taking a few steps into the room to see it wasn't much better than the rest of the building. Only it was decorated with postered walls, empty food trash, a dumpster-dived music player setup, some books, a framed photo of a smiling woman, and an old mattress on the floor against one wall.
"This is how I like it." The kid bit back, though, to Bruce, the bite sounded more defensive than cutting. Still, the boy balled up his fists and glared at Batman. "Now get outta here! Take your tires and go! Or I'll make you!"
Dodging the punches was easy enough; Bruce carefully grabbed the kid's arm and stopped his tustling. "You sure are scrappy. Where are your parents?"
The boy covered a flinch with a scoff, shaking Bruce off and backing up again, arms still raised to fight. "Mom's dead. Dad might be too. Last I knew he was at Blackgate. Don't care to know more than that."
Bruce furrowed his brow, turning to face the boy, softening his posture the best he could. "You got a name, chum?"
"Jason. Jason Todd." The boy looked Bruce up and down once, re-crossing his arms before meeting Bruce's eyes, covered by cold white lenses. "You?"
Bruce tilted his head. "Batman."
"Your parents name you that?" Jason snarked.
Despite his fear, the kid was certainly testing the waters with Batman, as if searching for the theoretical line to cross for Batman to snap at him. Bruce wouldn't snap.
"They didn't. I lost them a long time ago."
"Oh." Jason looked over him again with something in his eyes.
It was quiet for a moment, only the sound of the building creaking and a breeze rushing through broken and cracked walls. Bruce moved first, crouching lower to the ground before addressing Jason again, nearer to his level.
"Are you hungry, Jason?"
"What?" Jason asked skeptically.
"Do you want something to eat?" He clarified, as if the offer wasn't already clear.
"Why?" If Jason had hackles to raise, he might've then. He looked about one wrong word away from bolting.
"Because you look hungry." When Jason still didn't settle, Bruce sighed. "How about a deal? You help me get these tires back to the Batmobile and back on, and I get you something to eat. Whatever you want."
Still, Jason hesitated, weighing Bruce's offer.
"Burgers," he said finally, startled when the word left his mouth unbidden. Hungry indeed.
At that, Bruce couldn't help his smile. "Alright, burgers. Now help me with the tires?"
On their way back to the car, Bruce carefully tried his luck at getting the kid to ease up.
"That photo," he started as they rolled and carried the tires through the alleys, "that was your mother?"
Jason side-eyed him and Bruce nearly gave up on getting a response until the boy finally whispered. "Yeah."
Silence settled back in for a second or two, then, with a quiet sniffle and scoff, Jason carried on. "She got sick. I took care of 'er long as I could. 'Til last year."
"I'm sorry you lost her."
Jason puffed dismissively. "Not your fault."
"Hn."
By the time they were getting the tires back on the Batmobile, Bruce figured enough time had passed to push a little more.
"So your father, you said he's at Blackgate?"
Jason bristled and turned the tire iron a little more aggressively than necessary. "Sentence was ten years two years ago. Parole if he's got good behavior, but he won't. Haven't heard anything about him since mom died."
"I'm sorry about that, too."
"I'm not," Jason asserted. "I don't care about a deadbeat like him."
But the frown, furrowed brows, and shining eyes told Bruce that wasn't true.
Once they were climbing into the Batmobile, something like pity or guilt was prowling through Bruce's mind, but it was clear enough Jason wouldn't appreciate either of those expressions that Bruce kept them to himself.
"Anywhere particular you want burgers from?"
Jason shifted in his spot, plainly unsure of himself in the car's giant leather seat. "I d'know. Wherever's good."
Batman huffed a breath, a sigh more than anything. "'Wherever's good', okay. Yeah, I can do that."
Parked off a side street a few blocks away from the 24-hour Big Belly Burger, where they'd gotten enough food to feed a small family, Batman and Jason sat on the hood of the Batmobile, eating and talking. Jason doing most of the eating, and Batman, for once, doing most of the talking.
"And while Lex Luthor is reprehensible, his burger chain was a good investment. I haven't found evidence of ill intent on that front yet."
Though Jason hardly responded to any of Batman's attempts at conversation and seemed absorbed by his meal, his attention hadn't fully left Batman even once.
Meanwhile, despite his mindless talking in an effort to ease Jason's distrust, Bruce had spent the past hour or so — however long since he'd met Jason — trying to think up a way to solve Jason's problems. Namely the homelessness.
Jason was on his second Cheesemeister Deluxe when Bruce got around to bringing it up.
"Jason," Batman dropped his soft, near‐casual tone for one more serious, "I think you know I can't let you continue living how you have been."
Jason's gaze shifted from the burger held in his hands to watch Batman beside him.
"'Dunno whatchu mean," he murmured evenly, taking another bite of his burger.
Bruce sighed. "You do. I'm not suggesting social workers or cops, but you can't live alone in a condemned building. Especially not in Crime Alley."
The boy bristled. "I can take care of myself! Been doin' it for years. I ain't some helpless kid."
"I never said you were helpless," Bruce mollified, "but I can't in good conscience take you back there. Do you know what a compromise is?"
"I ain't stupid," Jason scowled at Batman, talking around a full mouth and eating quicker like he thought he might lose the chance.
"Alright, then I have a compromise. Do you know about the Alley's boarding school that opened a few months back?"
"Heard of it."
"It's year-round and provides education, housing, and food for students. The compromise is, you agree to go, I don't report you to the cops or social services."
This Jason appeared to seriously consider, looking away from Batman and eating just a little slower again. By the time he'd finished the burger and moved to a milkshake, his knees were drawn up in front of him on the Batmobile's hood, and there was still no answer.
"You like to read?" Bruce asked cautiously, earning a sideways glare. "I saw the books you had in that building."
"I read, yeah. So what?"
"I'm sure the school has plenty of books too."
Jason finished off his chocolate milkshake and moved to the fries. "You sure the school won't report?"
"Hn. They won't," Batman confirmed. "Robin and I paid them a visit after they opened while Gotham's news circuit was all over the place. The woman who runs it, Faye Gunn, has a very unique method for running her school. Never reports kids, but so long as she's taking care of them, I've got no reason to stop her."
"And you really won't report me or turn me in? Not even for the tires?"
"I swear."
"Okay," Jason mumbled. "Whatever. I'll go."
Bruce smiled to himself as Jason focused on his fries. "I'm glad. You alright to eat the rest on the way there?"
"Yeah, sure. Fine." Jason climbed down from the hood and back to the passenger seat with the remaining bag of food in hand.
With the moment he had alone outside the car, Bruce took a deep breath. This had to be the right call.
Eventually, parking on the curb in front of the school, Jason had finished off the food and was clearly fighting not to doze off. With how late, or early, it was, Bruce couldn't blame the kid. He doubted Jason got regular or good sleep with how he'd been living.
"Jason." Reaching over, Bruce set a gentle hand on Jason's shoulder to get his attention.
Based on the way Jason flinched awake and away, it hadn't been the best course of action. Still, when Jason saw Batman, he relaxed, realizing he wasn't in immediate danger. That was progress, at least.
"We're here," Bruce explained, nodding toward the building outside Jason's window.
"Cool."
As Batman stood with Jason at his side waiting after knocking on the front door, he considered that no one might answer given the time. He didn't have to consider long as the door opened only a minute later to reveal Faye Gunn in a nightgown with a robe thrown over it, old-fashioned even for a woman in her sixties.
"Well, Batman," she greeted, predictably surprised to see him. "What brings you here at this hour?"
"Ms. Gunn—"
"Just Ma, dear."
"...Ma Gunn, sorry to wake you, but I was hoping you had room for a new student. This is Jason Todd," the boy shuffled awkwardly at Batman's side. "I figured you might offer him a better living situation than the one I found him in."
"Oh, dear," Ma sympathized, "of course we have room. New students are always welcome, no matter the hour. Thank you, Batman."
"Mm. Well, I trust that Jason's in good hands here."
"The best the Alley has to offer," Ma Gunn agreed with a smile.
"I'll..." Bruce trailed off, meeting Jason's eyes as the boy stepped inside the doorway next to Ma Gunn. "Take care of yourself, kid."
Jason nodded at him. "Sure."
"Head on down that hallway, dear," Ma instructed Jason softly. "I'll show you where you'll be staying in a moment."
Doing as Ma said, Jason disappeared from Bruce's view, and Bruce couldn't help the uncertainty that settled in his gut. "Take care of him."
"Certainly, Batman."
"...Thank you."
With that, Ma was shutting the door, and Batman was gone with the night, relieved, at least, that there was one less orphan alone on the streets of Crime Alley.