Archive of Our Own ^beta

«You are in a really upbeat mood today, Michel.»

The mobster grinned like a cat finally caught its prey, «Indeed. Finally, someone repaid their debt.»

Red Hood huffed amusedly. He has known this criminal for a while. He was one of his informant, thought he was getting bolder, way to bolder. Already looking for a part of the Narrows he could land his hands on.

Arrogant fool, he will be delt with, but not now.

They had a meeting in a cosy lounge deep in the Crime Alley. The mob was trying so hard to please Jason to have him as a fence.

Ha.

What a moron. As if Jason would ever allow some other boss on his territory, allow competition. Hood picked his men carefully, and if he saw anyone stepping out of line even slightly, they met their end. Painfully.

Jason didn’t give a shit honestly what kind of debt that was or who was stupid enough to ask money from the obvious mafia clan (it doesn’t matter that the mob was young, around their thirties, and quite effective in his work). Who is he kidding, everyone with even the slightest authority in this fucking city had ties with the criminal underbelly. But the man in front of him looked so sickly satisfied with what he got. That couldn’t be just money. That kinda got Jason’s interest.

«Want to have a look? You won’t be disappointed.»

«Bribing never worked with me, and everybody who works with me and still alive knows that,» Hood said half joking, half warning. Michel chuckled softly, too drunk in his euphoria, and called his men with the snap of his fingers, and one goon came back with a—

Boy?

Blue eyes, black hair, sharp cheeks, lithe short frame.

What the actual fuck—

«Isn’t he a charm?» The man stood up, and circled slowly around Tim-fucking-Drake. The boy was frozen on spot, breath so soft Jason was’t sure that he was breathing at all. 

 «Oh,» his mechanized voice rang in the silence, making him sound absolutely disinterested.

Because he was disinterested. Jason didn’t give a fuck how his Replacement got into this mess in the first place, no way in hell he wanted to know, how—

«Ah, don’t be like that, Mr. Hood. This one here is very smart, the best in his school, being younger by 3 years from his classmates. He has good diplomatic skills, bright mind, sharp tongue,» he stopped to brat’s left side, leaned in, close to Tim’s face, studying him squinting a little, then shifted his gaze back to Hood.

«Perfect asset, if you ask me. And his appearance is just a nice bonus,» voice innocent and sweet, «good for any kind of work.»

Jason was seeing red. No, green. The blood inside him was bubbling so hot, he was sure his bones were going to melt. He had to summon all of his self-control not to erupt in rage and break every single bone in every motherfuc—

And Replacement? He is just fucking standing there with dull eyes, and bruised left cheek and cut lip, and disheveled hair, and not moving an inch.

Maybe this is some kind of trap, Batman’s awfully idiotic undercover mission, brat getting in knee deep shit trouble.

«Lovely bird you’ve got there,» was all Jason could say through his teeth. He could feel his muscles tensing with every second.

And nothing in those glazed, grey, fathomless eyes. No spark of life, just a body with tied hands behind the back in green sweater and plain jeans and bare feet.

Jason felt his stomach drop.

«As I said, you’d like him,» Michel stated triumphant, stepping aside, nudging Replacement to move to closer to the vigilante, «don’t you?»

«Maybe,» Red Hood drawled. The kid was so short Jason didn’t even have to look high up to catch his eyes.

«Why in such state?» he asked, displeasure evident in his voice.

«Unfortunately, I don’t know. He was brought to me like that,» something like sympathy was lurking in mob’s eyes, yet his smile never faded.

Jason ran a gloved hand through Replacement’s hair. One might think he was already savouring the treasure, but in reality he was checking for injuries. His fingers found a large bump on the back of his head. That must have been painful, yet the kid didn’t even flinch.

He didn’t react at all, actually.

«Elaborate,» he was beginning to lose it.

«It’a all really trivial, I assure you. But, if you're curious, it was Jack Drake who brought him. His company went bankrupt sometime ago, so he asked… some help,» mobster stretched out in a chair, smiling lazily, knowing full well that Hood would accept the gift.

What.

His own father sold him off? To pay a debt he himself took?

Fuck this bastard, Jason doesn’t operate this way, but he can’t leave this clearly compromised kid.

This close he can feel kid’s shallow breathing. Jason pulled Tim close to his left side, snaking an arm around Replacement’s lower back. Kid was painfully tense, muscles coiled like a string. Jason hand moving in slow, in what Jason was hoping, soothing circles.

The smug on the gangster’s face was the like a lighter thrown into the pile of gasoline barrels.

As if it was normal to pay off with one’s child.

And there is no emotion on kid’s face, no fear, no concern, no relief. Just a blank face.

«You are dismissed, leave now before I change my mind,» he growled lowly. White lenses on the helmet becoming slits.

«Very well, Mr. Hood. It was nice to see you,» the criminal bowed respectfully and left the room, with his men following.

Once he was sure there were no witnesses, he stood up, his whole body going rigid with barely contained turmoil.

Large hands grabbed thin shoulders in a way that could not be comfortable.

«What are you doing here?» Anger and confusion clashed in him.

After a whole minute of deafening silence, Jason shook Tim’s shoulders and roared, «I asked a question!»

«You know, Jason,» the softest voice Jason ever heard from the kid, «you were wrong about calling me Replacement”

Ah, so this was just a manipulative act of this little piece of shit, and Jason was stupid enough, naive enough to think this high of Bats.

Jason made a sharp inhale, a cruel taunt already forming on the top of his tongue.

Yet Tim’s next words made his heart skip a beat.

“Because replacement needs to be the same value as the original, but I never had it in the first place”

He let go of the shoulders like he was burned.

And that—

That was not what he was expecting.

«What are you talking about?» like a flame, fury inside him went out, leaving ashes of confusion in its turn. It settled sourly on his tongue.

Tim’s frail frame was suddenly wracked with shivers, something strange happened on his face, it briefly grimaced.
And his eyes were shining weirdly in the soft lights of the lamp on the table.

Then as fast as the change was, Tim became still, face slackened.

Oh, the small voice in his head suppled, he is dissociating!

And being one of the brat’s nightmares certainly didn’t help the case. Of course, they became better, eventually, he even started to patrol with the kid, but Robin never fully let down his guard around him.

It’s justified, something ugly whispered. He stumped it down angrily.

He has to get the kid somewhere safe. And fast.

«Okay, Rep-kid, look», he started, there was a slight wobble in his voice which he corrected quickly, «who you want me to call B or N?»

Jason was sure the kid again zoomed out on him when he saw hardly noticeable shake of the head. No

Jason sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted.

«Come,» he turned away, heading towards the exit of the lounge. He is going to return to his safehouse, the one with nice kitchen and cozy maintenance. The one he dared to call home.

He will deal with everything later. First priority is to get home and unwind, then deal with the kid.

He was lost in his thoughts until his mind registered a soft slapping sound - the sound of bare feet walking on the tiles.

Shit, he forgot that the kid was without the boots!

He turned sharply, searching for the kid, but he was few feet behind, following him resignedly. Small mercies.

«As much as I don’t care about your feet being fucked up by all the filth and abomination of the City’s ground, I won’t let you neither stain me bike nor floor of the safehouse.»

He hoped maybe some mockery or insult would bring kid back, get any reaction.

There was none.

Why it always has to be Jason?

So far kid hasn’t show any negative reaction towards physical contact.

«I’m gonna pick u up, okay?» Red Hood picked the boy bridle style, because it was easier. Yeah.

And definitely not because the kid was so cold, and miserable, and so shut down that he didn't care what was done to him.

Jason felt the surge of relief inside him, like a cold stream soothing a three degree burn, when Tim’s head lolled on his shoulder, as if trying to hide his face in Jason’s shoulder.

-/-

Jason placed the kid on the couch in his apartment, and asked if he needs anything, is he tired, or hungry or needs to call someone—yet Tim remained curled onto himself, which made him look even smaller than a fifteen-year-old should be.

At first Jason was annoyed by such display of arrogance, but now he just feels sorry for him.

No one should be sold like some very expensive lamp or fancy two-century-old painting or other stuff.

No one. And it was Jack Drake, his own father.

Jason was sick and tired of this filth and scum, greedy for wealth and vanity nonentities. They were never caught red-handed, always hiding behind fake smiles and superb charity events.

They always got away with whatever they wanted, and the silent child in front of him was the evidence.

Sure, when Red Hood joined the playfield the dynamics changed drastically, but there was only so much he alone could do.

Okay, first things first. He has to take a shower, treat kid’s wounds and then prepare some food because the night left him exhausted and he was starving.

He kneeled before Tim’s defensive curled frame.

«Im going to shover then deal with you. Wait here.»

In hindsight, Jason probably should have chosen other phrasing because when he came back in comfy clothes and wet hair to the combined kitchen and living room, the couch was empty.

Panic laced his veins. Where did the kid go?

Before he started to check security footage of this room on his phone, he noticed dirty footprints on his carpet leading to his bedroom.

Huh, weird.

Jason strained his hearing, some muffled noise was coming from his closet.

And there he was, curled up in his closet, eyes shining with unshed tears.

Jason could feel his heart was being reaped into small pieces.

«Hey.»

«I’m sorry,» kid started mumbling brokenly, «I stained your floor, you asked me not to, and I still did, I’Il clean it, I promise, I’m sorry»

«Kid, no, hey, it’s okay, I was just joking»

«It’s just,» Tim started, then abruptly shut his mouth with a click.

Jason was going to murder the person that made this child suffer. Who has taught him to silence his needs?

Instead he tried to stay as gentle as possible, kid doesn’t need his anger right now.

«Yeah?» Jason asked encouragingly.

«I thought, I thought he lov- loved m-me,» as soon as Tim heard his quiet sob, he covered his mouth with his hands and tried to suppress this impulse.

Oh, God, he is so unfitted for this.

«No, no, no, Baby Bird. None of that. You are allowed to scream your lungs out for all I care,» Jason’s hands franticly hovered around Tim, not sure what to do.

«Cry, scream, hell, break all the plates in my kitchen. Let it all out, Timmy, that’s not healthy to bottle it up,» he took Tim’s hands in his own, thumbs soothing trembling tendons of kid’s wrists.

Tim was heaving with dry sobs, yet he hasn’t shed a tear.

Oh, Fuck this piece of shit who carried the name of this kid’s father.

«Let’s get you cleaned up and check those sores, yeah?» He carefully picked up the kid, and started to walk towards the bathroom. He was so small, weighing almost as much as a real bird, perhaps even less than Jason, when he became Robin.

Jason didn’t even bother asking, simply started undressing Tim himself, with slow, careful movements, so that Tim could see what he was doing and stop him anytime he wished.

Jason ushered him into the shower, taking a folding stool from under the sink cabinet. Tim followed his instruction wordlessly, submissively.

When the kid sat on the stool facing the wall, Jason saw scars.

Long, ugly, thin scars.

No way in hell those were from their night activities. Dick never had those, Jason never had those.

His brain tries to tell him, screaming at him ‘ABUSE’ and ‘LITTLE KID’ and ‘ROBIN’. And he finally gets it.

Because Robin is magic. Robin helps others in need, comforts the crying and fights for the oppressed.

Yet this kid? This probably abused physically and mentally child by his own parents, who was taught to cry without a sound, who never defended himself against the cruelty while not wearing the mask.

The urge to hurt, to make them suffer long and painfully, to make them bleed out drop by drop was so overwhelming, Jason had to remind himself take slow breaths.

He traced the scars, most of them were old ones, some of them were still white and soft. 

«It was Jack, wasn’t it?» The older spat the name like it was some kind of curse. Tim’s breath hitched.

«I will kill him,» he growled mindlessly, turning up the hot water and starting to wet the kids frame and body.

«Don’t, Jason, please,» voice almost inaudible between the drops of water.

«Fine, I’ll let it slide for now.»

Jason was quick, yet gentle. He took a little extra time massaging kid’s scalp. Somehow it comforted both of them.

At first, Tim was detached throughout the whole ordeal, but eventually he began to loosen up. He even leaned into Jason’s hands, angling the head so that Jason could scratch the right spot. Tim thought he was subtle, and that made Jason chuckle softly.

Kid’s feet were the worst of his injuries. It seems that he indeed has been walking barefoot for some time—not enough to rub them to the bone, but enough to develop raw blisters.

Once the kid was clean, they stepped out of the shower, and Jason threw on the biggest fluffiest towel. It looked so big on the kid, engulfing him whole, that only his head and legs below the knees could be seen. Like a cape.

And Tim’s expression was more…softer, relaxed trustful. Jason couldn’t help but feel how the hopefulness was blooming inside him.

And his grey eyes started to look more alive: they followed Jason’s form, his movements.

The older was rubbing the hair with a smaller towel, when Tim spoke up, voice so unsure, as if he was expecting a punishment.

«Jason?»

«Yeah, Baby Bird?» Jason asked absentmindedly.

«Why I’m always not enough? Why they always leave?»

He was afraid Tim would literally shatter in his arms. Jason kneeled and grabbed Tim’s shoulders to ground himself.

«Is this is what that piece of shit was telling you? That you are nothing? That you are not enough?» Jason felt like he was by a train. How could words hurt so much.

«Kid,» he started disbelieving of what he just heard, of what Tim implied, «you have the brightest mind I’ve ever seen, seriously. You are patient, determined, you can explain math better than any math teacher, you are self giving and so attentive. You never let any slight thing out of your focus, you held under such pressure that a grown ass man would break under. And the Robin part? You are amazing. You are better than Dick, better than me. That’s actually was the reason I lashed out, beat the crap out of you. Because the moment I saw you I knew B finally found the right model, the perfect soldier.»

Passion and protectiveness burned so hotly in him, he felt so alive. And the words left his mouth without an afterthought.

It felt so right, to tell Tim this, to hold him and care for him. To protect him from any demon, real and not.

«I was, I was so jealous. So angry. So bitter. And I dealt with it like a monster, like a man with hollow spot where the heart should have been, that was filled with so much acid I thought I would burn alive. I hurt you in so many ways, left so many scars and yet you survived, and you forgave and—»

You brought me back, the pain I inflicted on you brought me back, the love you showed me brought me back.

«You are the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met, Tim. «This world is lucky; this city is lucky; everyone who has you in their lives is lucky that you are here,» he said, his thumb ghosting over Tim's bruised cheek and cut lip. Jason just held his face for a moment, cherishing him. He leaned close, pecked his nose and forehead, and rested his lips on his hairline, then whispered,
«The whole city survived because of one small brave, altruistic, relentless child.»

If Tim was trembling back then, now he is practically bursting at the seams. But that’s okay, it’s for a good reason, Jason will hold him close until he is whole and mended again.

«I’m so proud of you, we do not deserve you, kiddo»

And for the first time of the night Tim cried, loudly and heartbreakingly, like a wounded bleeding animal.

Jason never let him go; he only squished him impossibly closer so their heartbeats could synchronise and Tim’s anguish would be drowned out by the song of living miracle echoing off the walls.

Once all the dirt was cleaned, all the wounds treated, all stomachs were full, they laid down on Jason’s bed both exhausted.

Tim was curled into a little ball with his back pressed to Jason's chest. The elder’s large form engulfed him, protecting him like a shield. Tim sighed contently. They were so warm, Jason was sure it seeped through his very bones. He was whole again, like there was a part of him long dead but now slowly healing.

«You were my hero, Jason, my Robin. You are my Robin,» he whispered. A tired confession.

«And you are mine, Baby Bird,» Jason nuzzled Tim’s hair almost possessively and squished him tighter.