Chapter Text
Enrolling Lian in school turns out to be easy once Jason has the proper paperwork forged. Dropping Lian off on his motorcycle, sandwiched between him and Roy, turns out not to be his best idea, if the glares they receive for it are anything to go by. The fact is soon reinforced when they get dragged into the principal’s office and are lectured on child endangerment.
Roy turns pale and stammers out an excuse about their normal vehicle being in the shop, and promises that putting Lian on a dangerous bike will never, ever happen again.
Jason drags him out of the office before he can make any other promises they might be forced to break later. Then he drives them straight to a used car lot, where Jason jumps right into arguing that the teachers were overreacting, as they both ignore all the salespeople hovering at the edges of their heated conversation.
“It’s not illegal to take a kid on the back of a bike, Roy! It’s not like she didn’t have a helmet!” Jason bursts out as soon as he’s parked the bike. “My dad used to take me out on the back of his bike all the time when I was younger than Lian, and nothing bad ever happened to me!”
“Willis,” Roy answers, his face flat. “That’s who you’re modeling your parenting skills after right now?”
“He wasn’t always a crap dad,” Jason’s quick to defend. He grabs Roy’s helmet and throws it into the seat compartment next to his and Lian’s.
“I’m not judging,” Roy says, even though he very much is. “I mean, it’s not like I have good role models either. Brave Bow was … I mean, his parenting doesn’t seem very relevant outside of a reservation. And Ollie is … you know … he’s only ever been good at one thing, and it’s not parenting.”
“Same as Bruce,” Jason allows with a nod. “Yeah, I know what that’s like.”
“And Willis …”
“... Was a bastard in the best of times towards the end,” Jason says, knowing that if he hears Roy say it, he’ll just get mad, regardless of how true it is. “But, believe it or not, we did have nice times together, back when I was small. Before he lost his job and had to start working as a goon.”
“Sorry, Jaybird,” Roy replies. “I didn’t mean to imply …”
“You did,” Jason says, but he forces a smile. “And maybe he never really paid particular attention to child safety, even when he was at his best. It’s not really something people around the Alley would really care about.”
“But Burnley isn’t the Alley,” Roy points out.
“Which is why we’re here,” Jason says, gesturing at the parking lot full of cars.
“We’re for real buying a car?” Roy asks. “Thought we’d just … I don’t know … borrow one?” He shrugs when he notices the frown Jason’s giving him.
“Borrow a car from who?” Jason asks. “And with what excuse? I thought you didn’t want anyone knowing about Lian. If I borrow a car during pickup and drop-off school hours, Monday through Friday, it’s not going to be all that hard to start connecting the dots. At least enough for said car owner to get suspicious.”
Roy sighs. “Alright, fair point. But you’re dead, and I’ve got shit credit. So how the fuck are we going to get a car.”
“I’ve got cash,” Jason offers with a shrug.
Roy grins at him as he lightly punches him on the shoulder. “Ah, shiiiit, I forgot my baby daddy had money like that!”
Jason snorts on a laugh. “You know that term is for biological fathers, right?”
Roy shrugs at him, still smiling. “Never read that in the rules anywhere. I've got a baby, and you're her daddy.” And then he falters, smile sliding into a frown, and eyes wide. “Not that-!” he scrambles. I mean, you aren't obligated to-!”
“Oh,” Jason breathes because he can understand those half sentences as clear as day. ‘Not that you have to be her dad, ’ ‘Not that you're obligated to stay.’ But he's the one who said co-parenting first. And he'd meant it when he said it. He's not backing down from that. “No, you're right. Baby daddy. That's …” He shrugs, attempting nonchalance and knowing he's failing. “It's fitting.”
Roy grins at him. “That's the spirit! Don't let biological fathers horde all the fun terms, Jaybird!”
Jason shakes his head at his friend, but he can’t help grinning back. “You’re a completely ridiculous human being, you know that?”
“Nope! I am your completely ridiculous baby daddy,” Roy corrects, his grin growing. He continues when Jason opens mouth to, Roy can make an educated guess, start an argument. “I even used it “correctly” that time.” He makes sure to do the air quotes, just to be extra embarrassing. “I am our darling’s biological father, if you remember.”
“As if I could ever forget,” Jason mutters. And that doesn’t sound good. It sounds like maybe it’s some sort of dig. Like, obviously, it’s Roy who went and had the irresponsible, unprotected sex that landed them both with a kid to take care of. And Roy can’t think of anything to say to that because, yeah, it’s true. Doesn’t mean Jason has to point it out, though. But Jason clarifies before Roy can yell at him for being an asshole. “She looks just like you.”
That’s news to Roy. He looks at Lian, and all he can see is Jade. “She does?”
Jason snorts like he can’t believe Roy would be surprised by that. “Her brow line, her chin, her nose-which she is not going to thank you for, by the way-”
“Hey!” Roy feels his nose. It’s not a bad nose, per se. A little wide maybe.
“Don’t worry, the brow line she will thank you for.”
Roy’s very confident he’s never received a compliment about his brow line, of all things, but he’s still a little flattered. “You’re going to give me whiplash swapping back and forth between insults and compliments, Jaybird.”
Jason smirks at him. “Sorry. I’ll keep strictly to insults from now on,” he promises before he’s finally pulling away from where they’ve been standing next to his bike to head towards the lot lined with back-to-back cars.
“Surprisingly enough, I’d rather you go the other way with it,” Roy replies, following after him.
Jason shakes his head as they head to a salesperson. “You’re asking for impossible things here, Roy.”
Which is just rude, but Roy doesn’t have any time to call him on it because they’re already at the salesperson. Because that’s how Jason planned it; he’s good like that.
“Are you nice folks interested in looking at some cars today?” the pasty-faced guy in overly bright khaki shorts asks, interrupting what Roy is sure would’ve been a great comeback had he had time to come up with one.
But Roy can get Jason back in more ways than just one.
“Us nice folks are interested in purchasing a car today,” Roy answers before Jason can. Then he throws an arm over his shoulders and drags him closer. “My daddy’s buying me one,” he explains with a grin and a wink.
The salesperson’s eyes widen as his mouth drops open.
“What the fuck,” Jason mutters into Roy’s shoulder, quiet enough that Roy barely hears him.
“O-oh,” the salesperson forces out, seeming to start to recover. “That’s …” He clears his throat. “Well. We support all types here at Brandfires Automall, even you two.”
Which … wow. Not the right way to go with that one. This sales guy needs some serious PR training.
“Well, this isn’t going to go well,” Roy says under his breath. Because if Roy knows Jason, he’s gonna make the guy pay for his blundering with some good ole public humiliation.
“Even us, huh?” Jay asks, eyebrows raised. He leans slightly towards their poor, unfortunate salesperson, but doesn’t actually take a step forward. “Just what the fuck does that mean?”
The salesperson - Roy leans his head to the left a bit so he can read the nametag - Philip, takes a step backward. “J-just that we support all types. Uh … serve all types. Everyone is … uh … welcome here.”
“Yeah. You know, maybe it makes me an ass to be assuming things, but I make it a habit of thinking that every store I walk into is going to welcome my business.” Jay’s eyebrows are doing that hypermovement thing they do, which means he’s equal parts angry and feeling more than justified about it. “So, I’m not really sure why you felt the need to clarify that you do what every other single business does without having to explain it to anyone. Tell me why you told us .”
“I-I just,” Philip stutters. “I didn’t mean … I believe maybe I misspoke. I meant-”
“You meant your business doesn’t support my type?” Jason interrupts, purposely misunderstanding him just to be an ass. “What kind of bullshit is that?”
“No. That wasn't-”
“And just what the fuck do you think my type is ?” Jay continues over the poor man.
Roy decides to smooth things over with a joke before the poor salesperson has a heart attack. “Because it’s not sugar daddy.”
Judging by the incredulous looks he's receiving from both of them, his joke didn't land.
“What the shit, Roy!” Jay hisses at him.
Roy gives an exaggerated shrug as he leans into it; no turning back now. “What? I thought it might be an important thing to clear up!” He turns to the salesperson. “He’s not a sugar daddy. He’s a real daddy.” He turns back to Jason. “Why does that still sound horny?”
“It doesn’t,” Jay replies, rolling his eyes. “There’s just something very clearly wrong with you.”
Needless to say, they do not end up purchasing a car at the first lot they go to. And, because Jay’s made up of thirty percent paranoia, they don’t stop at any of the other car lots on the street either. Instead, Jay drives them another twenty minutes out to Coventry. And Roy doesn’t have anything bad to say about the area. Honestly, he doesn’t.
But car lots in rich areas are marked up with the clientele who live in the area in mind.
So maybe Roy does have something bad to say about the area.
Jay leans over to him when Roy doesn’t step away from the motorcycle. “If you don’t like this place, I can find a lot over in the Diamond District we can visit next,” Jay mutters the threat.
“Don’t be silly, Jaybird,” Roy mutters back. “Everyone knows the only vehicles being sold over there are limousines.”
“Wait,” Jay says quietly, looking confused. “What are we buying if not a limo?”
Roy chokes back a snort, trying not to bring attention to them before they’re ready to actually engage with a salesperson. “You know anything we’d buy here is going to be marked up at least an extra twenty percent from what we could get back in Park Row.”
Jay leans impossibly closer, so their foreheads are almost touching. “Well, then it’s a good thing I have all that crime lord money,” he murmurs before pulling away. “And a really good thing my baby’s daddy is the best mechanic this side of the Atlantic,” he declares loudly before giving Roy a small grin.
The smile Roy gives back is wide and unrestrained. He’s absolutely delighted they’ve stolen the term ‘baby daddy’ for themselves. “Aw, Jay!”
“Yeah. Yeah.” The corner of Jay’s lip twitches as he fights a larger smile because he likes to play pretend at being stoic.
That spot goes a lot smoother, and they leave with a ten-year-old sedan with low miles and a clean engine. The car turns out to be Lian’s favorite color - blue - and Roy wonders if Jay did that on purpose or not. But when he raises an eyebrow in question, Jay just shrugs back with a tiny smile on his face.
Turns out, having a car is really nice. It's much easier to fit three people into a car than on a bike. It's also much easier to transport shopping back home in a car than in the small compartment of his bike, especially since that compartment is basically already full, holding helmets for Roy and Lian when Jay goes out alone.
Which is why he's alone in his new used car, bags full of groceries in the backseat, when he gets an SOS on his emergency phone pertaining to the nerdiest of the birds.
And, of course, Jason's the closest, so, of course, he has to go, even though it means that he's going to miss Lian’s bedtime. He calls Roy when he pulls over to duck into an alley so he can change into Red Hood.
He doesn't have to wait long for Roy to pick up. “What's up, light of my life?”
Jason ignores the endearment, just like he's been ignoring all of Roy’s stupid endearments. Because Roy’s doing it to be funny, not because he actually means it. And Jason doesn’t have it in him to play pretend relationship with a guy he’s maybe kind of realizing he’d like to play real relationship with. Easier to just ignore that whole dumpster fire of an idea. “I can't read to Lian tonight. I've got bird stuff,” he explains.
“Sure, Jaybird,” Roy replies easily because he's understanding to a fault. “You do what you gotta do. Lian and I can make our way through bedtime without you.”
“Thanks, Roy,” Jason says. “Gotta go. I'll be home when I can.”
In true captured vigilante fashion, things turn out worse than the SOS had led him to believe. By the time Red Hood arrives, “Red Robin needs backup” has become “Red Robin is captured and needs immediate medical attention.”
And maybe Jason freaks a little bit when the younger birds are in trouble. It's easier to show he cares through violence than anything else, especially where his family’s concerned.
So when Jason sees his little brother's ankle twisted at an abnormal angle and blood coating his abdomen, he might not pull his punches like he normally does. And, while his pistols are full of rubber bullets, that doesn't stop him from going for lethal shots or, at the very least, permanently disfiguring shots.
He shoots three different people in the eye. A challenging shot at far range, but relatively easy when they're already on the floor, thanks to the rubber bullets he's already unloaded into their guts.
He makes a mental note to brag to Roy about the one he’d caught in the eye while he was still standing, though.
He shoots two people in the neck, which sends them both collapsing to the floor in a painful sounding wheeze. Whether shooting someone with a rubber bullet in the neck is enough to damage their trachea so much that they can't breathe isn't something Jason takes the time to learn.
He breaks a dozen legs between the ten people in the warehouse, and, as far as he's concerned, it's less payback than they deserve for the sickening way Tim’s ankle is twisted.
The important part is that he gets Tim out of there without getting the kid any more hurt. It's when Jason gets him situated in the backseat and starts the car that the real problem starts.
“Is this The Wiggles?” Tim asks. It's his first conscious comment uttered out loud. “Do you actually have a song by The Wiggles playing right now?”
And of course, Jason hadn't noticed the music. He's too used to having kiddie music in the background every time he drives this car, thanks to Lian. Not that it's a bad thing. Can't be a bad thing when Lian gets so excited hearing it. His only regret is not realizing it was playing until now.
“Do you actually know a song by The Wiggles right now?” Jason returns. “Shut up and bleed.”
Tim, of course, only heeds half that demand, and it's not the half Jason wants him to. “Why are you listening to a Wiggles song?”
“It's catchy,” Jason snaps, not lying. “Can you save your energy for your wounds and not for trying to figure out why I listen to the type of music I listen to?”
“Since when do you have a car?” Tim asks, looking around, even though it sounds like he's about to pass out.
“You'd better be fucking glad I have a car,” Jason growls. “Otherwise, I would’ve had to bungee cord you to the back of my bike. Would you prefer that?”
“I just don't remember you having a car,” Tim replies, still sounding out of it. And it's probably a good thing he's talking, but Jason would really prefer if they changed the subject.
“It's new,” Jason explains. “Makes shopping easier. What the hell were you doing patrolling by yourself?”
Jason waits for several seconds, but there's no answer.
“Red?” Still nothing. “Red?” Nothing. “Tim!” Jason looks in the rearview mirror, but Tim's head is too far behind Jason's chair for him to see his eyes.
He turns around in his seat the second he pulls up to a red light. And there's Red Robin, eyes closed, looking very, very motionless. Jason shoves at his shoulder.
“Mm,” Tim answers to that.
Alright, fine, so back to topics Jason doesn't want to talk about then. “I like Hot Potato. Maybe Rattlin Bog. As my favorite songs from The Wiggles. I assume you have one too?” Rattlin Bog he only knows because Lian had made him watch the music video, so he remembers the name of it. And Hot Potato because that’s what’s playing now, and it’s easy to discern the name of it by how often the fuckers keep repeating the words ‘hot potato’.
Tim gives a pained laugh. “Just because I recognize them doesn't mean I actually listen to them. What the hell are you doing listening to them?”
“I told you: they're catchy.”
“They're also repetitive and for children. If you like repetitive and catchy, you could just listen to pop music,” Tim replies. “That's something you could listen to without everyone thinking you're a weirdo.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Gee, thanks so much for that advice, Tiny Tim. I'll be sure to take that under advisement.”
“I'm just saying,” Tim mumbles like he's about to pass out again, “It has to be embarrassing for you. I mean, Roy has to at least know you listen to kiddie music, right?”
“He listens to it too,” Jason grumbles.
“Really?” Tim asks flatly as he bleeds out in Jason's backseat. “Please don't tell me that you bond over listening to ridiculous music together.”
“Maybe,” Jason huffs as he pulls them into the Batcave to a waiting Alfred and Nightwing.
He should have been suspicious that Batman wasn't waiting with them, but he doesn't even question it. He just helps Dick move Red Robin onto a gurney, his car still on and echoing children's music filling the cave. Dick shoots an inquisitive look at him, but when Jason dodges his eye contact he seems to let it drop.
Looking back, Jason should have left as soon as Tim was out of his car. But he had wanted to make sure he was okay. So he'd stayed, watching Alfred hook up a blood transfusion before stitching up the too-large wound in his abdomen. Sharing an anxious silence with Dick.
The silence isn't broken until Tim's all stitched up and Alfred’s back upstairs, probably in the kitchen. That's when another vehicle pulls into the Batcave. And Jason's clearly out of it, because he doesn't register it as Batman until he's already looming over them.
“I saw your handiwork,” Bruce says, low and deep.
Even at that greeting, it takes Jason a few seconds to figure out what he's talking about. Takes him a while to remember the bodies he may or may not have dropped in his attempt to get to Red Robin.
Not that he has any intention of apologizing for any of it, not when Tim had been in danger.
“Yeah, you're welcome,” Jason huffs, already tensing up for the upcoming fight. Judging by the glances Dick's sending the both of them, he expects the same.
“I'm glad that Tim is safe,” Bruce says slowly. “But we put ourselves in danger every night. You can't put aside all our morals just because one of us is in danger.”
“ ‘Our morals’?” Jason repeats before he can stop himself. “ Your morals, you mean. I didn't leave any of my morals at the door when I went after Tim.”
“That's a bigger issue,” Bruce growls. “Two people had stopped breathing by the time the ambulances came. Ambulances you hadn't even called. Half the men are likely to be permanently disfigured. And you don't see a single problem with that?”
“They kidnapped Robin!” Jason exclaims, leaping from his seat so Batman isn't looming over him. “And you what? Wanted me to show them mercy? They didn't deserve it! He's a fucking kid! People should learn to be terrified of kidnapping him! They should learn there are permanent consequences for touching a Robin!”
“Jay,” Dick says quietly before Bruce can say anything, “Red Robin is nineteen. He's an adult.”
“Damian isn't!” Jason yells back. He wants to yell about how nineteen is plenty young, but he knows that's a moot point for all of the bats, including him. Tim, especially, wouldn't be appreciative of the argument, no matter how young nineteen feels now that he's twenty-two.
“The fact that you don’t think what you just did is wrong is just proof you don’t belong on the streets,” Bruce declares, cold and biting. “You’re benched until you can learn to control your temper.”
“Control my temper,” Jason repeats back with a scoff. “Fuck you: ‘control my temper’. You can’t fucking bench me, Bruce; I don’t fucking report to you. You don’t fucking control me. You don't want my type of brutality around you or the rest of the bats? Then take me off the emergency notifications!” He's screaming by the time he's done, and Dick's looking worried, and Batman looks like he's gearing up to get physical.
So Jason flips Bruce off as he tries to make it look like he's not running for his car.
The effect, admittedly, is a little ruined by the squeal of tires as he peels out.
And Batman probably has some sort of fucked up ultimatum he's going to give him next time Jason sees him. He'll definitely pay for his behavior later. But that's not what he worries about. The second Jason loses sight of the Batcave, he has the instant fear that he needs to calm down before he can go home. That under no circumstances can Lian see him like this. That he doesn’t want to scare her.
And, fuck, Jason has no good parental role models in his life, which is especially sad, given how many he has. He’s got a physically abusive father, a drug-addicted mother, an overly controlling other father, an emotionally closed-off grandfather, another mom who sold him out to the Joker and laughed about it, and another mother whose superpower is emotional manipulation.
On the plus side, he has a myriad of different examples of what not to do. And despite all the different ways Jason’s parental role models fucked him over, it all bsacilly comes down to one thing: the second you make your kid feel like shit is the second you’ve lost your ‘Good Parent of the Year’ award. And damn everything if Jason’s going to let himself be that person.
Not to Lian. Not to cute, precious, and innocent little Lian. Jason can’t bring his type of angry darkness into her world. She’s always so bright and cheery and just … just so fucking good .
But, in thinking about Lian, Jason suddenly feels less angry. Shit, it works off the energy of the angry better than even punching someone does, and that’s always worked pretty damn well. So he leans into it. Thinks about cooking breakfast while Lian waits at the kitchen table and rapid fires animal facts at him. Thinks about how excited she gets when she picks him up from school. Sings along to the fucking Wiggles song that he belatedly realizes is still playing through his fucking speakers, because if Lian were her she’d make him.
By the time Jason makes it home, there’s not a single fraction of him that’s angry.
TBC