Chapter Text
Tim knew his impending drop was inevitable. It had been almost a month. A few days before, he had felt proud of himself for lasting so long, but now? Alone in Titans Tower? Tim just felt miserable. He took comfort in the fact he was alone, no matter how much he craved the affection and attention of the other Titans. It was better for Tim to be alone. Safer, too. Especially now, when Tim felt smaller than he should, curled up on the couch in the living room.
It had been a busy few weeks. There was a new player in Gotham, the Red Hood. Batman was deep in detective mode, meaning Tim was left mostly to his own devices. Well, more so than usual. He solved a few cases, pulled a couple all-nighters, and most likely failed a math exam. And then Batman decided Robin wasn’t safe in Gotham, and shipped him off to Titans Tower.
The other Titans were on a mission in space somewhere. The tower was painfully silent. Tim had taken to running the TV constantly on the lowest volume, just so he didn’t feel so alone. But his time at the tower also gave Tim the perfect opportunity to drop for a while. Usually he hid in his house for a night or skipped school for the day, but he hadn’t had the chance as of late. Not for the first time, Tim cursed his stupid hormones. He had put on his sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt as though he were suiting up as Robin. The right uniform for the necessary job.
The aforementioned stupid hormones were making it hard to focus on the case in front of him. Tim sat with his laptop in his lap, the living room TV playing some nature documentary frequently interrupted by ads. Tim would focus on the words in front of him, but inevitably his mind would drift onto some other topic. What was Batman doing tonight? What were the Red Hood’s plans? Would Nightwing stop for ice cream? What kind? Tim could really go for some strawberry ice cream, and a hug. Oh right, Tim should be working on a case right now. And then the cycle would repeat.
Tim pulled his fingers out of his mouth, not even noticing he’d put them in. He grimaced and wiped the saliva off on his shirt. The tee was soft. He only wore it when he was feeling little. It was the only real item he had that was specific for his headspace. His fuzzy, creeping headspace. Tears burned at the corners of Tim’s eyes, and he scoffed. He had no reason to cry, but tell that to his brain.
Tim blamed his slowing and exhausted mind that it took him a few seconds to realize something was wrong. The TV was silent, no more murmured voices. The lights, already dimmed, were switched off. The only light came in from faint streetlamps and the waning moon. It took Tim another few precious seconds to react. He had only just grabbed his bo staff and risen off of the couch when his eyes adjusted around a shape in the doorway. Tall, wide. The shine of the moon reflected off of what appeared to be a helmet. Timmy’s breath caught in his throat.
[ { ( o ) } ]
It had been too easy for the Red Hood to break into Titans Tower. Same thing with dismantling outside communications and shutting off the power. Really, someone should tighten the security. They would have to once he was through.
The Red Hood was in no rush. He practically sauntered to the living space where he knew he would find his replacement. Timothy Drake. Aged fourteen. Unclassified. Grew up right next door to the Waynes, in a bigass fancy mansion. Two living parents, great grades, never had to face food insecurity or dig through dumpsters for a meal. Whatever Timothy wanted, he got. And apparently Timothy had wanted to be Robin. And Batman had just given it to him. Threw another Robin out onto the streets of Gotham. The Red Hood was going to remind him why that was a bad idea.
He stood menacingly in the doorway of the living room. Jason could see the second his presence registered, his replacement’s eyes going wide. The Red Hood relished in the fearful expression. The Green cloying to his vision only served to make the replacement look paler. It egged him on, and Jason had a sudden vision of wrapping his hands around the thin throat. Jason knew his eyes would be glowing under his helmet and took a sick enjoyment in the fear his gaze could cause. But he kept his helmet on for now.
“Hey, little birdy,” the Red Hood teased. “Why don’t you come play?”
Timothy Drake raised his bo staff in a fighting stance, but Jason could see the tremble of his hands and knees. This was his replacement? What had the Bat been thinking? And that thought made his vision even more Green, the Pit churning around in his blood. It was a wonder this little bird hadn’t had his wings clipped yet. The Red Hood moved closer to his target. It would be too easy to pull out his gun. Not fun at all. Instead, Jason took a fist and swung. The sound of his hand hitting the bo staff was piercing in the overall silence of the tower.
“Oh, Replacement. You’re going to have to do better than that.” Jason swung again, enjoying the resounding crack as his replacement blocked him. “We all know what happened to the last little bird, the one you replaced.”
Timothy swung first this time, but Jason had been ready. He grabbed the bo, taking it right out of his replacement’s hands. God, the kid had like no grip strength at all. And he was still trembling. It was pathetic. Once again, Jason didn’t bother reaching for his gun, or even his knives. The Red Hood swung the bo, and the replacement went down to the ground to dodge. And didn’t come back up. Instead, Timothy curled up in the corner he had been egged into, and buried his face in his arms, legs coming up into the fetal position. Jason lightly thwacked his replacement with the staff. Timothy let out an audible cry, which turned to sobbing. He shook with every heave of his breath.
Well. Huh. This wasn’t fun at all. The Green receded from Jason’s vision. What was up with the replacement? Wasn’t this Robin supposed to be better? This kid couldn’t even hold onto his bo. He was just crying like, like…oh. Oh shit! Jason froze. The kid was a Little. And Jason didn’t know. Meaning the kid was presenting, this was his first drop. And Jason, Jason had shown up to maim the kid. The Pit influence was gone, and Jason’s mind moved faster without the sludge crowding his thoughts. Batman had picked a Little as a Robin. One sub as a Robin hadn’t been enough? He had to have known before the kid dropped, Littles weren’t crazy difficult to spot by this age. The kid (and he was a kid, was Jason really planning to hurt a fourteen year old?) was so small, easily passing for closer to eleven or twelve. And he was still crying. Jason had made him cry. Jason slowly dropped to the ground, sitting on the floor a little ways from the sobbing Little. He set the bo staff down gently.
“Hey, um, Timothy?” No, that wasn’t right. The kid didn’t even acknowledge the voice. Jason eased off his helmet. There, now his voice and visage wouldn’t be as scary. He ran through everything he knew about Timothy Drake in his head. Hadn’t they gone to the same school at some point? Jason would have remembered seeing…Tim! The kid went by Tim. And Tim had skipped a few grades, so he was only two grades below Jason. “Hey, Tim? I need you to take a deep breath for me, buddy.”
Tim reacted minutely to the voice, but didn’t move. Jason should probably call somebody, like Dick. Tim would have his number saved, but that would mean getting the phone off the kid. Jason kept his voice soothing, trying to come off as nonthreatening, especially since he had actually threatened the kid.
“Tim, can you look at me, please? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” Jason hadn’t expected this attempt to be any different. But Tim slowly raised his head, just enough to show his widened eyes as he took in Jason’s face. He sniffled.
“Jason?” Tim asked softly.
“Yeah, that’s me, bud.” Jason really hadn’t expected Tim to fling himself at him. Tim buried his face in Jason’s neck and began crying again, soft, hitching sobs. He seemed to know and trust Jason. Either that, or he really needed the stranger-danger talk. “There, there,” Jason said awkwardly. He raised his arms and gently wrapped them around Tim, one on his back and another supporting the kid from the bottom. “I’ve got you, everything’s okay.”
It took a while for Tim to calm down. As he settled, Tim was sitting mostly in Jason’s lap while Jason rubbed his hand in slow circles on his back. Jason had been surprised how quickly Tim recognized him. Even if the kid had seen a couple pictures, Jason was currently a lot taller and broader, not to mention the white streak in his hair and green eyes replacing his blue. He doubted most people would tie the large man to his scrawny past, but then again Tim was a Bat. For some goddamn reason. Tim pulled his head away from his hiding spot in Jason’s neck.
“You’re alive,” he grinned. There was no fear in his gaze, only a soft hesitancy.
“Yeah. I am.” Jason grimaced, but Tim didn’t ask any questions. After a moment of silence, Tim pulled away slightly and his eyes watered.
“I’m so sorry, Jason. I know I’m not ‘upposed to be little,” Tim said between hitching breaths. Jason froze.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t mean to, I promise. I know the rules. I’m not ‘upposed to be little without Mother or Father. I can try to be big again.”
The kid wasn’t presenting, this wasn’t his first drop. Tim was an established Little, despite not being legally classified. Fuck. That meant the Bat really let a Little be Robin. The Green came pulsing back, and Jason tightened his grip around Tim on his lap. How dare he?
“Can I pick you up?” Jason asked softly. Tim nodded, clutching harder. Jason carried Tim to the couch, keeping him in his lap. “It’s okay, bud, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Jason knew Littles struggled to control when they dropped, they couldn’t expect to leave a Little alone in a tower for days and have him not drop. Whose idea was it to leave Robin alone in the first place with a murderer after him? Jason relinquished his control of the tower’s power, and the lights flipped back on.
What was Jason supposed to do now? As much as he still wanted revenge, he should call the kid’s caregiver first. It was probably Dick, he would jump at the chance to take care of a Little. Jason settled them both deeper into the couch cushions. Tim was still clinging to him like a koala.
“Do you want me to call Dick?”
“No!” Tim insisted.
“You’re not in any trouble, Timbo. How about Alfie?” Alfred was the other Caregiver in the manor.
“No!”
“Do you want B?” Jason wouldn’t have guessed, but there had been a time in his own life when, well…
“No, don’t tell him!”
“I’m kind of running out of options here.” Jason wracked his brain. Did the kid want Babs? She was a Caregiver, right? Oh, wait. This Robin had parents. “I can call your parents.” Instead of responding, Tim started to cry again. Shit, what did Jason do wrong? “I don’t need to call them, who said anything about calling anybody?”
Jason rubbed Tim’s back, since that seemed to work before. He was never the best with Littles, that was Dick. At least he’d always been better than Batman, whose go-to method for calming was patting a person like a farm animal. He’d tried that on Dick once, and Dick laughed so hard he stopped crying. World’s greatest detective, and he couldn’t figure out how to comfort someone. Tim’s cries slowed once more. The kid was probably completely worn out by now.
“You can’t tell B,” Tim insisted. “Then he won’t lemme be Robin anymore.”
Did Bruce really not know? There was no way. B had been able to predict both Dick and Jason’s classifications before they presented, even considering the both of them had at a younger age than usual. And Tim was right at the age to present, the average being between fourteen and sixteen years old, for boys at least.
“Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions, Timbit?” Jason asked, holding a facade of calm over his roiling mind. Tim didn’t respond, but looked up at Jason. His blue eyes were still wet, and his face was blotchy with visible tear tracks. It was a heartbreaking sight. No wonder Dick had talked about Littles so much, Tim was adorable. Jason pushed the Green as far back as he could and took a deep breath, which Tim mimicked. “You said Batman doesn’t know you’re a Little?”
“Don’t tell him!”
“I won’t, I promise. So I take it neither Dick or Alfie know either?” Jason confirmed. Tim nodded. “Okay. Why don’t you want me to tell your parents?”
“I’m not ‘upposed to be little when they’re not home.”
“And they aren’t home right now?”
“Nuh-uh,” Tim said, shaking his head. He rubbed his nose with his sleeve. “They’re in Albayna.” Albayna? Where the hell was–
“Albania?”
“Yeah. But I couldn’ wait anymore. They aren’t coming home for forever. I’m sorry, Jason.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jason soothed, trying to prevent another onslaught of tears. Did all Littles cry this much? Or just the ones stuck in a tower with the man who assaulted them? “Do you know how long their trip is?” Tim nodded.
“Um, they left in April, and Mother said they’d be back in August. She promised,” Tim said confidently.
What the fuck? It was June. The Drakes were on a four month trip? And left their Little home with instructions not to drop. There was no way Tim hadn’t already dropped a few times since they’d left, Littles simply couldn’t go very long without going into headspace.
“Who watches you when they’re not home?” Jason was already dreading the answer.
“Nobody! I’m a big boy,” Tim pouted. He certainly wasn’t big enough to be left home alone for so long, no matter what headspace he was in. Jason didn’t want to think about how long this situation had been going on for. Why hadn’t anybody done anything? Why hadn’t Batman done anything? Jason knew for a fact Tim didn’t live with B, meaning he was in his big manor all by himself.
If Tim had presented when his parents were gone, maybe they gave him the rule over the phone? If he presented recently, then it would make sense why he wasn’t legally classified yet. But then why didn’t they cancel the rest of their trip? Tim seemed confident they wouldn’t be coming home for months. Overall, the whole situation seemed wrong.
“One last question, bud. How long ago did you present? Became little for the first time?”
“I’m not supposed to tell,” Tim hesitated.
“You can tell me,” Jason encouraged. Tim nodded.
“Yeah, because you’re my hero. And now you’re back, and not dead anymore! I was really sad when you died.”
Well, that was a can of worms Jason really didn’t want to open right then. Jason was no one’s hero. Not anymore.
“It’s a secret, so you can’t tell anyone,” Tim said seriously. As seriously as he could as he cuddled Jason, his hair sticking up like a bird’s nest. Jason nodded just as solemnly, hiding his smile. “I was eleven.”
What the fuck. What the fuck. The kid was fourteen! He’d been a Little for three years already. Hold on, he’d been a Little since before he was even Robin. And eleven? Studies showed the younger a teen presented, the more trauma they’d suffered. Hence why Jason and Dick had both been early. Dick had been thirteen. Jason was twelve. And Tim? No wonder he wasn’t legally classified, if he’d shown up at eleven CPS would’ve been called immediately. Young presenters weren’t always abused, but they were more often than not, especially Littles. How long had this child been being neglected? Was that even the extent of the abuse?
“Jay?” Tim nudged, worried. Jason took a deep breath, noting that yet again Tim copied the motion. That could be useful information later.
“I’m fine, bud, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting that.”
Jason wasn’t going to call Batman, or any of the Bats. And he certainly wasn’t going to call the kid’s parents. He peered down Tim, who was still snuggled into his lap (clearly touch starved now that Jason knew more).
It looked like Jason had a Little to look after.
[ { ( o ) } ]
The old plan had been abandoned, obviously. Jason had to make a new one. How does he take care of a Little? What do kids need? Jason thought back to his childhood, to the other kids on the streets. It’s easier to catalog necessities when you don’t have them. The important things were appropriate clothes, food, and shelter.
Jason looked down at Tim. They had moved from sitting on the couch to partially laying down. Tim was wearing a baggy shirt and sweatpants. Definitely appropriate clothing.
“Do you have any pajamas you want to change into?” Jason checked. It wouldn’t hurt for the kid to be even comfier. Tim shook his head.
Okay, that’s one down. Onto the next point, food. It was pretty late, and Jason had no clue when Tim had last eaten.
“How about I make us some dinner? There’s probably something good in the kitchen I can cook up,” Jason said. Tim whined softly and clutched onto Jason’s shirt harder. But then his stomach growled. “I’ll be right in the kitchen, see?” Jason pointed across the room. The living room led straight into the kitchen, not even a half wall in the way. “You’ll be able to see me the whole time. Here, why don’t you get comfy and watch some TV.”
Jason located the remote, and to reach he had to shift Tim off of his lap. Tim clearly didn’t love this plan, but didn’t complain. Jason settled Tim down on the couch, setting the remote in his hand. He found a blanket on the back of the couch and put it over him. Tim seemed content enough. Jason moved over to the kitchen. It was time to see what a bunch of teenage superheroes had to eat. The answer? Not a lot. There were energy bars for the resident speedster and plenty of cheese puffs. No perishables, meaning the fridge was basically empty. A couple frozen pizzas and half a tub of ice cream were in the freezer. Jason managed to scrounge up a box of mac and cheese and a pot. Kids liked mac and cheese, right?
Jason glanced into the living room to check on Tim. Tim was burrowed in his blanket, eyes on the TV. The channel was something with police cars. Jason easily started the meal. There wasn’t any milk, but there was a random stick of butter in the fridge. It wouldn’t be the best mac and cheese in the world but food was food. While he cooked, Jason’s mind went to the next part of his plan. Shelter was easy enough at first glance. They could just stay in Titans Tower. But besides the lack of food, they were sitting ducks for either the Titans or the Bats. They wouldn’t stay hidden for long, someone had to notice all communications were cut out. Actually, Jason was surprised no one had noticed already. There hadn’t been any alerts on his phone for the Batplane, which was the predicted mode of transport for Batman to get to the tower since the Zeta tube was locked down. Tim was lucky it was only Jason who’d come to hunt him down. So Titans Tower was a no-go. Tim’s house was too close to the Bats, and who knew if it was equipped for a child (even though a child lived there). That left one of Jason’s safehouses. No one knew where they were, and he even had one in a less crime-ridden area not far from Crime Alley. Jason doled out two bowls of mac and cheese and rifled around in the drawers for a couple forks.
“Dinner time, Tim. Timbo. Timbit.” Jason crossed the room over to the couch. Tim smiled, but gave an exaggerated frown when Jason looked at him, clearly not pleased with the nicknames. “Let’s eat here, way comfier than the table.”
They ate dinner in relative silence. It had been longer than Jason thought since he’d eaten anything, and Tim clearly felt the same way. They both scarfed down the mac and cheese. The TV was still running. Tim had chosen to watch what appeared to be a mixture of true crime and bodycam footage from cops. It wasn’t uninteresting. As he ate, Jason continued to formulate his plan.
“So, Tim. How do you feel about being kidnapped?”
“By you?” Tim looked confused. Jason nodded. “Okay.”
Jesus, Tim really did need a stranger-danger talk. What if Jason actually planned to kidnap him? Nonconsensually? Well, Jason wasn’t going to complain now. His plan was fairly simple. He’d kidnap Tim, make the tower look like a crime scene, and then watch the Bats panic. Good old fashioned revenge. And when Tim was big again, they could discuss what to do from there. Of course said discussion would involve getting Tim out of uniform and away from his parents, but that was a later problem. When Jason looked over, Tim was looking at him with something like awe in his eyes, which Jason had to be misinterpreting.
“Do you want me to loop the camera footage?” Tim asked, eyes large. “It’ll look like nothing happened, and you can leave a scary message for Batman before we go!”
“Sure, Timbit, that would be great.” Jason tried to keep the concern out of his voice.
That led to Jason pulling back on his full Red Hood get-up and writing a message on the walls with some of Tim’s blood he had found in the medbay. Jason was careful not to make a mess of his uniform. Blood was annoying to get out of clothes. He periodically checked on Tim, not sure the Little was currently capable of messing with the cameras. But Tim seemed to be having no trouble, the only indication of his headspace being the hand inching towards his mouth. How old was Tim in his headspace anyway? Jason should probably know that if he was going to take care of him. He seemed decently independent, but how much of that was survival from when his parents weren’t taking care of him? Jason ran comparisons between Tim and some of the kids and Littles he had encountered during his Robin days (he ignored the pit in his chest and the Pit in his head). Jason placed Tim around the age of six, no issues with speech or a focused task such as hacking (not that most children could hack). But Jason kept an open mind, unsure of how Tim might fluctuate or react to care.
“I did it!” Tim exclaimed proudly. “The camera shows an empty room all day.”
“Good job, bud,” Jason assured. Tim beamed at him.
“You can leave a scary message for Batman now.”
Jason stepped back from the wall. The blood dripped, but not enough to obscure his writing. In neat block letters, Jason had written “another bird falls”. Not bad for such short notice, although Jason wished he had some more blood to work with. Whatever was left in the bag he spread around the floor. He used his boots to scuff the walls up a bit. Jason took a deep breath and located the hidden camera.
“You’d better come and find him, Bat,” Jason spat. He let the Green into his vision. “Wouldn’t want to lose another Robin.” Jason let a moment of dramatic silence thrum before suppressing the Green and taking his helmet back off. Tim was watching him, face solemn.
“I’m sorry I took Robin from you, Jay. I didn’t know, I was just trying to help–”
“I’m not mad at you,” Jason admitted. He knelt a bit to look Tim in the eye. Damn, the kid was short. “I’m mad at Batman, never you. Now let’s get out of here.”
Jason released his control of the Tower’s security, so the communications and Zeta Tube were back up. Tim finished messing with the cameras, leaving only Jason’s message as evidence. Dinner had been cleaned. The “crime scene” was set. Jason and Tim walked over to the Zeta, and left the tower.
[ { ( o ) } ]
Jason had not been planning on kidnapping anybody at Titans Tower, so the only ride he had to his safehouse was his motorcycle. That was plenty safe, right? Tim’s eyes were drooping, and he was practically swaying where he stood.
“Here, bud, put on the helmet.” Tim took Jason’s helmet from him, slipping it over his mussed-up hair.
“I’m the Red Hood!” Tim said, then laughed at the sound of his own voice through the modulator. And then laughed at the sound of his own laughter.
Jason maneuvered Tim in front of him on the motorcycle. The streets of Gotham were quiet. Well, as quiet as Gotham can get. Jason drove as carefully as possible while still avoiding security cameras. Entering Crime Alley was like a breath of fresh air, despite the boost of smog. These were his streets. He knew them like the back of his hand, and Crime Alley was his to protect. He had already either destroyed or covered most of the security cameras, but Jason still kept a sharp eye out for any bats. It took almost a half hour total to get to Jason’s nicest safehouse, their route taking them through the Bowery and Crime Alley. The safehouse was on the edge of his territory. Jason had been doing his best, but he’d still prefer not to have Tim in the heart of the Alley if he could help it. Speaking of Tim, the kid was lax and pliant in front of him, clearly ready for bed.
Jason parked and hid his bike. He took his helmet back from the Little. Without thinking, he offered Tim his hand to go up into the apartment building. Tim stared at the hand for a moment before tentatively accepting, and Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
The moment they entered the building, Jason groaned. The elevator was out of order. The safehouse was on the fifth floor. Jason was exhausted. Tim was exhausted.
“Sorry, dude. It’s a lot of stairs.” Jason paused. “Can I carry you?”
“I can go up the stairs! I’m not that little,” Tim pouted.
“I know you’re not, but I know you’re tired and it will be a lot easier.” It really would be. Jason was no expert on Littles, but knew he did not want to deal with an overtired meltdown. Tim seemed to think for a second. He was still holding Jason’s hand, and used his free one to rub at his eyes.
“Okay,” Tim relented. Jason waited a second, but Tim made no move to raise his arms. Jason took the lead, picking Tim up by the armpits and placing him on his hip. Technically it would be more efficient to use a fireman’s carry, but this was how Dick always carried Littles.
“Is this comfortable?” Jason asked. Tim nodded. He was stiff, head up and looking around.
Jason began the long trek up the stairs. Tim relaxed by the second floor, and rested his head on Jason’s shoulder on the third. Jason was careful not to jostle Tim as he unlocked his door. The kid was half asleep already. Despite having no caregiving instincts at all, Jason found himself bouncing his arms just a bit.
“Let’s get you to bed, baby.”
“I’m no’ a baby.” Tim’s retort was half hearted at best.
“Of course not.” Jason placated. He carried him to the bedroom.
The safehouse was simple. The kitchen and living areas were in the same small room, with two doors leading to a bedroom and bathroom. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture. The kitchen was functional but lacking any food while the living room was a couch and a TV balanced on a bookshelf. A couple of Jason’s favorite books were on that shelf. The bedroom had a queen sized bed, and Jason was grateful the sheets and comforter were clean. He placed Tim down on the bed.
“Okay, bud,” Jason said softly, removing Tim’s shoes while he spoke. “Let’s use the bathroom and brush your teeth before bed.” See? Jason could take care of someone else just fine. Jason didn’t react when Tim took his hand on their way to the bathroom. He pulled out the pack of toothbrushes he kept under the sink. “What color do you want?” Tim just shrugged. “Blue or red?” Tim sluggishly pointed at the red. “The toothpaste is in the cupboard. I’ll be outside when you’re done.”
Jason waited until Tim let go of his hand to leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. While he waited he took stock of what he had in the apartment. There was a blanket for the couch, Littles liked blankets. There was no food in the kitchen. Jason put his guns on top of the fridge, where he could reach but Tim couldn’t. Same thing with the few knives he scrounged up. And a couple grenades. Jason had a safe, but he liked to keep weapons accessible, especially since he didn’t plan on carrying any for the next day or two.
“Jay?” Tim was done in the bathroom.
“Let’s get you to bed.” Jason walked over, but Tim seemed to have no desire to move. Instead, he looked at Jason and made an aborted move to raise his arms, cheeks flushed. Jason got the message. He picked Tim up, settling him once again on his hip, where Tim immediately relaxed.
It didn’t take long for Jason to settle Tim on the bed. He pulled the covers up over Tim’s curled figure, whereupon Tim fisted them and cuddled into the sheets. Tim was asleep within minutes. As soon as Tim was out, Jason grabbed a gun off the fridge and made for the front door. He had a grocery run to make.
[ { ( o ) } ]
Jason walked in the opposite direction of Crime Alley. There was a convenience store not far from his safehouse. He let the cool air settle around him, taking a deep breath. A car sputtered past. There was the sound of a cat yowling. Jason felt as though he ran warm since coming back. Everything was hot and heavy and all the time. But the Pit was being quiet, Jason’s ever present anger settled down.
Carrying a gun was normal in this part of Gotham, so Jason didn’t bother concealing his as he entered the convenience store. The people who hid their weaponry were the ones with something to hide. The store held everything Jason should need. Food staples, basic toiletries, and Little supplies. Hopefully Tim didn’t have anything at his house he would miss while in headspace. Jason grabbed a basket and started shopping.
First was food. Jason picked a box of sugary cereal, along with bread, pasta, and pancake mix. He also grabbed a frozen pack of chicken nuggets, a jar of spaghetti sauce, and some milk. Boom. All the food he and Tim needed. Next was toiletries. Luckily Jason was already decently stocked up, so he only grabbed another pack of toothbrushes and some Littles toothpaste. Wasn’t there something about kids not liking mint? Tim hadn’t complained, but Jason thought he’d rather be safe than sorry. Being a crime lord paid pretty decently.
And then Jason was standing in front of the Little supplies. Anything a parent could need for a freshly presented Little before an official shopping trip, or a Caregiver needing something while out and about. Jason had never really paid attention, and he was suffering from that now. He had no clue what to get. A toy or something, right? And some more clothes.
“Need some help? You look a bit lost,” an unfamiliar voice said. Jason started. He must have been more engrossed in his shopping than he realized. He tried to school his expression away from his default will-murder-you face and turned to see who spoke. It was a young woman, probably in her late twenties. She looked a bit haggard, but most people did in Gotham.
“Um, yeah, that would be great,” Jason said, both real and faux sheepishness slipping into his voice.
“Who are you shopping for?”
“My little brother.” The lie came easily. “He just presented a few hours ago. We don’t really have anything for him, it came totally out of the blue.” That was underselling it, if anything. His little brother was dropped, and Jason had dogshit for him. Wait, not his little brother, that wasn’t right.
“How old is his headspace?” the woman asked. Jason just stared blankly at her. “Are we talking baby, toddler, or kid?”
“Kid? I’m not really sure…” Jason trailed off, running his fingers through his hair.
“Well, how about you grab supplies for both a kid and toddler? You’d know if he was a baby. So, a pacifier, sippy cup, and some Little clothes. And maybe some pull-ups.”
“Little clothes?”
“They’re softer and more childish. Also a headspace indicator for other people, not that he’ll probably be in public for a couple drops.” This woman seemed to know what she was talking about, so Jason nodded along. “And grab a couple toys, reveal them slowly. Toys are great bribery. I’d stay and help you longer, but I’ve got a Little of my own to get home to.”
“Of course, thank you very much for helping me, ma’am.” Alfred didn’t raise a kid with no manners.
“No problem. You’re a good brother.” And with that, she swept away, leaving Jason to his turbulent emotions at the praise. He wasn’t a good brother, not that he was a brother. Well, he used to have a brother but…Tim needed supplies, Jason should focus on that.
Jason turned his attention back to the shelf. It seemed to be mocking him. Pacifier, sippy cup, clothes. He ignored the notion of pull-ups, weren’t those for babies? Tim seemed too old for those at least. Jason perused his options, which wasn’t a whole lot. He was in a convenience store after all. He grabbed a red sippy cup, the same color as the toothbrush Tim had picked. There weren’t many pacifiers, but Jason grabbed an unadorned teal one since there wasn’t red. There were in fact clothes in the aisle, mostly pajamas. There was a Batman pair. Jason ignored them, grabbing a yellow set with dinosaurs. The pants had dinos scattered all over, while the shirt had a big brontosaurus in the middle. Kids liked dinosaurs. Jason at least had, when he was seven. He had read a bunch of books on them from the library while hiding from Willis. Jason awkwardly held the pajamas up, trying to gauge the sizing. It wouldn’t hurt if they were a little big. Jason put them in his basket. There wasn’t much in the way of toys, which seemed to be the running theme of the store. Jason shoved a set of brightly colored blocks in the full basket. They were all different shapes, and the packaging said they were fun for all ages.
Jason went to leave the aisle when it caught his eye. There was a stuffed bunny with big, floppy ears. It looked really soft. The bunny was baby blue, but its belly and the underside of its ears were pink. Jason didn’t hesitate before grabbing it and heading to the checkout.
He left the store with arms laden with bags and his wallet a bit lighter. The cool evening air had turned to a cool night, but Jason’s leather jacket kept him warm. He made the trek up the five flights of stairs, stopping to breathe just outside the apartment. He unlocked the door as quietly as he could. Jason put away anything that needed to be in the fridge or freezer, and collapsed on the couch. He hoped he was doing this right. Not even that, he hoped he could be good enough. He just needed to keep the kid alive and comfortable, and watch the bats suffer. Jason smiled to himself. They were probably already combing Gotham looking. It wasn’t even only Jason’s revenge anymore, they deserved this for neglecting Tim the way they had. They should have paid closer attention to him. They shouldn’t have put him up in a tower when it was convenient for them. They shouldn’t have put another child in the Robin uniform.
Jason slipped into the bedroom. Tim was still fast asleep, curled into himself. Jason debated with himself for a moment. There was only the one bed, but the couch was simply too small for him to sleep on. Plus, there was some part of Jason that wanted to be close to Tim. To make sure he was safe. Jason put his gun away and stripped off his jacket and jeans, putting on some pajama pants. He wasn’t about to share the bed with Tim without any pants on, no matter how he usually slept. Jason used the bathroom before settling on top of the covers beside Tim. He should have been up a lot later, used to late patrol hours, but he found himself lulled by the soft sounds of Tim breathing. Jason fell asleep.