Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jason hums as he walks down the street on the way home from school, a lullaby mama used to sing to him before she got sick and started taking her ‘medicine’. Jason doesn’t like it when she takes her medicine, but mama gets sad without it. But today, he’s got a battered copy of Peter Pan in his bag, and maybe when he reads it to her, mama will be happy enough to not need the medicine to make her feel better. Maybe.

He runs up the stairs of the derelict (the school librarian taught him that word today) apartment building, thankfully only a couple floors up, because the lift hasn’t worked in years, and into the apartment. Tonight, he’ll use the last of their pasta, and a bit of salt, and they’ll have a nice meal while he reads to mama. As soon as he runs into the main room, he knows something is wrong. Really wrong. He glances at the couch, but mama isn’t lying there like she usually is. The bedroom they share- also empty. Breathe. That’s what Miss Green said after she told him Willis was in prison. He has to keep breathing. The bathroom door creaks as he opens it.

Mama is lying on the floor, eyes glassy and unseeing, a needle still sticking the crook of her elbow. He can’t breathe. Screw stupid Miss Green, what does she know. He can’t breathe. He drops down onto his knees beside mama’s unmoving body, tears flowing freely down his face.

“Mama! Mama wake up! MAMA WAKE UP!” He’s screaming, shaking her frantically. He can’t breathe, he can’t- “Mama, mama please” he sobs, clutching her wrist in a vice like grip.

Jason stumbles to his feet, runs out the bathroom. The phone, he needs the phone. He stands on his tiptoes to dial the numbers, and holds the phone to his ear.

“911, what’s your emergency?” A female voice asks.

“My m-mama.. she’s- she’s not b-breathing” Jason sobs.

“Okay, okay sweetheart you’re doing so well,” The 911 lady speaks reassuringly “can you tell me where you live honey?”

Jason mumbles out his address. He can’t breathe; mama is-

“Are you still there sweetie? I need you to keep breathing, you’re doing amazing. Can you tell me your name?”

“J-Jason”

“Okay Jason, are there any other adults in the apartment with you right now that you feel safe with?”

“no, there’s n-nobody”

“That’s alright Jason, I need you to stay as calm as you can, you’re being so brave. I have some paramedics and a police officer on their way to you right now, just a little longer. How old are you sweetheart?”

“I’m e-eight”

“Okay, that’s a good age, just keep talking to me, alright? Just keep breathing. Can you be really brave for me?”

“I-I think s-so”

“That’s great Jason, now, I need you to go open your front door, can you do that for me? The police officer will be there, he can help you, okay?”

“okay”

“Alright, bye bye Jason, you did so well, I'm so proud of you."

Jason drops the phone, his feet numb as he drags himself to the door. Mama is- no. The door. He’s got to open it. He forces himself to undo the latch, and it swings open.

A man stands there. He’s tall, Jason thinks, with reddish-brown hair and a moustache to match, wearing glasses over his blue eyes and a brown trench coat over a shirt and grey tie. He doesn’t look like a cop, really.

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Jim Gordon has not been having a good day. Since the most recent Joker attack, targeted at the precinct, many officers are still hospitalised or recovering from the effects of the Joker toxin. So, he’s been having to pull his weight with the more hands on work, like he’s encouraging everyone else to do. God, he hasn’t done patrol in a long time.

He walks back into the station, embarrassingly exhausted. Who knew a night of basically just cleaning up after Batman could be so tiring? Then, there’s a ping from the computer, an officer needs to be dispatched to an apartment building in Park Row, a kid called it in, his mother has overdosed. Jim winces in sympathy, then glances around the room. Another officer- his name is Tony, Jim thinks- reluctantly stands up, grumbling about worthless Crime Alley scum.

I can’t let that dickhead go to this traumatised kid.

“Hey, Tony!”

“Yes Commissioner?” Tony grunts, not even trying to hide his annoyance.

“I’ll go to the kid. Please."

“If you want” Tony scoffs, and Jim feels a stab of anger. No time for that, he needs to go.

He speedwalks out the station to his car, and starts cruising down the fairly empty roads, people are too scared to go outside even though the Joker was put back in Arkham yesterday afternoon. Soon, he’s outside the bleak looking apartment block, frowning.

This is no place for a child to live.

However, he lives in Gotham, he’s seen far worse and quickly pushes that concerned thought aside and walks inside, up to the third floor. He knocks on the door of number 32, but there’s no response, though he can hear a child crying inside, and the voice of the 911 operator. The call hangs up, and there’s some shuffling footsteps before the door is opened. Jim looks at the poor boy, his too baggy, torn clothes, his skinny frame and messy black curls, but his focus is on the tear-filled blue eyes.

“Hey kid, I’m Jim Gordon, how are you feeling?”

The kid glares at him through tears, fair enough, it was a dumb question. “W-Why are y-y-you here..s-she’s already d-dead” the boy says through sobs.

Jim feels another pang of anger, how has this kid been failed by the system he works for so much that he already believes no one will care about him?

“I’m here for you son. So I can look after you and we can sort out what’s going to happen to you.”

At those words, the boy- he really needs to ask his name- bursts into tears again, and Jim crouches to his level. “Hey kid, can I hug you?”

The tiny boy looks surprised, but slowly nods, and Jim wraps his arms round the boy’s shoulders in a firm embrace, feeling the child cling to his shirt like a lifeline.

“Shh, shh, it’ll be alright. I’m so sorry son.” He whispers into the kid’s ear, heart breaking as the kid lets out a muffled wail and clutches Jim tighter.

They stay like that for a while, he’s not sure how long, he just murmurs reassurances and lets the boy cry into him, trying to provide comfort. Soon, the paramedics arrive, and Jim covers the kid’s eyes as they carry out his mom's lifeless body. But, before they leave, he asks them, “Do you know the kid’s name? Or his moms?”

The male paramedic answers, looking at the boy with sadness “Yeah. Mom is Catherine Todd; kid is Jason Todd. I think the dads in prison; you can probably find that out.”

“Thanks.”

The two paramedics carry Catherine’s body out the apartment. Jason remains sobbing into Jim, but they can’t stay like that forever.

“Jason? We need to go to the station son.” Jason shakes his head, and burrows deeper into Jim’s chest. “I know, I know, but we need to sort out where you’re going to stay”

“no” Jason whimpers, Jim lifts him off the ground and holds him close.

“I’m sorry Jason, but we need to go” he says sorrowfully, he wishes there was a better option, then shakes himself. He’s seen so many kids like Jason, he doesn’t know why he’s getting so damn attached to this one. Obviously, his heart aches at the clear signs of past abuse on Jason’s small form, and the way he’s clinging to him so desperately, and his terrified, broken blue eyes, and- enough, he needs to focus.

“Do you have any stuff you wanna grab Jason?” he keeps his voice soft and gentle, he doesn’t want to scare the kid. Jason nods, and Jim tries not to feel worried about his lack of verbal response. He can’t get attached, he’ll probably never see the kid again after an hour. He quickly packs the things Jason points to in a ratty red backpack he found by the door, only a few sad possessions; a dirty but obviously well-loved tiger stuffie, a photo of Jason and Catherine when Jason was younger, a silver necklace with a small key on it, and a small felt box that has a keyhole for said key. Jim also packs some clothes and a toothbrush, Jason should be provided with that stuff, but Jim’s under no illusions about Gotham’s system.

Yet you’re sending Jason, this tiny little boy to them.

He brushes away that thought, and slings the backpack over one shoulder, the other arm is supporting Jason, who is still clutching him like Jim’s the only thing keeping him from breaking down. Which he genuinely might be.

The car ride to the station is fairly short, the roads are even quieter now than they were earlier. Jason is still crying, and it only got worse when Jim had to put him down in the car. Soon, they arrive at the precinct, and Jim is at Jason’s side in no time, scooping him up and whispering soothing words as Jason sobs into his shoulder. He walks inside the station, CPS have already been notified and should be here shortly, so for now he takes Jason to his office, away from the stares of the other officers. On the way up he asks one of the few decent officers, Amy, who’s still fairly new, to grab a hot chocolate for Jason, and she immediately complies after taking one look at the boy. Shame she’s moving to Blüdhaven soon. He sits down in his chair with a sigh, Jason on his lap.

I’m going to have to let go of the kid soon. Jim thinks, and to his surprise he’s more upset by that than he thought he would be. Than he should be. There’s a knock at the door, Jim freezes. Jason isn’t ready to go just yet- he’s still crying-

Amy walks in with the hot chocolate. Jim breathes a sigh of relief.

“Here you go Jason” Amy says softly, handing him the hot chocolate, which Jim has to take when Jason doesn’t release his shirt.

“Thanks Amy, he needs to get some sugar in him.”

“No problem Commish” Amy replies, keeping her voice quiet so not to spook Jason, then turns and leaves the room.

“Jason, do you want to try some of the hot chocolate? It shouldn’t be too hot, it’ll be good to get some calories in you.” Jason looks up at Jim with wide tearful eyes, then at the hot chocolate, before hesitantly accepting it and taking a sip. Jim can’t help but smile as Jason’s eyes widen at the taste.

“Pretty good, huh kid?”

“yeah” Jason says quietly, but at least he’s speaking, and Jim feels.. proud?

Am I really just going to put him in the system and never see this sweet little kid again?

Chapter Text

Jim watches Jason closely. The kid’s stopped crying now, he’s sitting in the opposite chair sipping on the lukewarm hot chocolate. Jim wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to bolt, most Crime Alley kids do, they never want to go into the system.

Maybe they have a good reason.

Jim shakes himself. He can’t think like that, he’s the police commissioner for crying out loud, he has to support the proper process.

A knock at the door startles him out his thoughts- startles Jason too, the boy’s head whips around to face the arrival.

“Come in!” Jim calls, standing up, it must be the social worker. No one else would knock.

 A middle-aged woman walks in, brown hair forced back into a ponytail, piercing grey eyes. Jason stiffens.

“Miss Haskins, pleasure to meet you Commissioner.” She says, her gaze already on Jason, looking him up and down. Her eyes aren’t unkind, but clinical. She sees kids like Jason on the regular.

“Uhh, yeah, nice to meet you too.” Jim replies hesitantly, what is going on with him this evening?

Miss Haskins takes the third seat at Jim’s desk, beside Jason, and turns so she’s facing the boy.

“Hi there Jason, my name’s Miss Haskins, as you heard. I’m going to be taking you to Park Row Children’s Home, if you’d grab your bag then we’ll go.”

Jason looks at Jim desperately, eyes pleading. Jim feels his heart break a tiny bit (not that he’d admit it) but just nods towards Miss Haskins, silently telling Jason to follow her. It’s like a shutter comes down behind the small boy’s eyes, and he blankly picks up his little red rucksack.

“Come on Jason, this isn’t the only place I need to be tonight.” Miss Haskins says, not cruelly, but meriting no argument.

“Do you want a hug before you go kiddo?” Jim asks gently, heart aching. Jason just glares at him, though his eyes are glassy, and turns away to follow Miss Haskins.

“Goodbye Jason!” Jim calls, keeping his tone even, because he doesn’t feel like a completely awful person as the two silhouettes walk down the corridor.

Jason doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look back. They turn the corner, out of Jim’s sight.

He collapses back down onto his chair, head in his hands, Jason’s bleak expression playing over and over again in his head.

Jason stares out the window of Miss Haskin’s car, clutching Fitz, his tiger stuffie, close to his chest.

So stupid! I should’ve run when I had the chance!

Buildings rush by outside, the big apartment blocks and offices fading into the grimy structures of Crime Alley.

Jason decides he hates Jim. Luring him in just to sell him out to the CPS lady! Yeah, Jason definitely hates him. 100%. Totally. Asshole, that’s what Willis would say.

The car pulls into a miserable looking parking lot outside the group home. Miss Haskins gets out the car, and comes round to Jason’s door, opening it for him. He would’ve done it himself, but she put child lock on! What did she think he’d do, throw himself out of the car in the middle of the road?

Honestly, I might’ve done, anything’s better than a group home. Tommy was telling me about his friend who got trafficked from one of those!

Jason trudges across the lot towards the front door, Miss Haskins staying right by his side.

Great. I can’t even run away.

The group home looks just how he expected as he’s nudged inside, full of kids who all seem to be yelling for some reason, a couple adults drinking coffee in the corner looking like they hate their job, and general chaos.

One of the adults, a tired looking woman with ginger hair and glasses, walks over to them.

“You must be Jason. I’m Mrs Moore, but you can call me Rosa if you want. There’s a free bunk in room 8, fourth door on the left down that corridor.” The words are dull, like they’ve been used many times before. Jason doubts she’ll even remember his name in ten minutes. He just nods.

His throat feels like it’s closing up. He thought he was safe. Jim Asshole said that he’d take care of him, but no! He offloads Jason into a group home as soon as he possibly can!

Course he did idiot. Even your own dad didn’t want you, and mama would rather overdose than live with you any longer. Big surprise he didn’t like you either.

The next morning, Jason wakes up shivering. It’s freezing in here. And he’s so damn achy all over! He had to sleep on his bag at nighttime, he’s not going to let it get stolen. Not when it’s all he’s got left. He knew he’d already be a target as well, he cried himself to sleep last night like a loser in the shared dorm.

Willis would have given him a good black eye and told him to toughen up. At least Willis was reliable, who knows what the kids in here are like.

Jason gets up, he’s still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, but they smell okay so he doesn't see the problem. He drags his feet down the hall to the cafeteria, a small dingy room that smells like old lasagna and out of date vegetables. There’s some cereal on the side, but only a couple boxes, and surrounded by the older kids. Yeah, no way is Jason gonna get beaten up this early in the morning. There doesn't seem to be any food left, but that’s okay, he’s used to filling up with water anyway until midday when he can usually get a school lunch for free.

But you can’t do that anymore idiot, you don’t get to go to school anymore now that you let yourself be taken here, all cause of that asshole commissioner!

He’ll just wait until dinner then.

Jim paces his office. He can’t sit still, guilt burning through him. Hell, Jason’s little face as Jim made him go with Miss Haskins. He buries his head in his hands.

Amy walks in. She doesn’t knock, but it’s not like anyone else does either. And Jim couldn’t care less right now.

“What?” Jim snaps, them immediately feels even more guilty.

“If you’re done sulking, there’s kind of a lot of work to be done, Commissioner.” She says, not even hiding her disapproving look.

“I’m not sulking. I’ll pick up some case files in a sec.”

Amy scoffs. “You’ve been in here for two hours Commish. Either get your ass downstairs and help out, or just do something about the damn kid!”

Jim looks up, surprised. Was he that obvious?

“Yes, you were.” Amy says scathingly, and Jim realises he spoke out loud.

“But I can’t do anything! He has to go into the system, I can’t just kidnap him!”

Amy glares at him (not for the first time in this discussion) “You have friends in high places. Just become a foster parent.”

“I can’t just do that Amy, no one can just become a foster parent overnight.”

Amy mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like Bruce Wayne, but Jim chooses to ignore it.

“Pull your head out your ass Commissioner, what’s really stopping you from calling someone right now and having the kid in your apartment by tomorrow? You’re obviously attached to him, so give him a chance.”

Jim blinks. Because when she puts it like that, it would be great to have Jason happy and safe in his apartment. He could call Bruce right now.

“I- uh..”

“See you later Commish.” Amy turns and leaves the room, leaving a startled Jim understanding Bruce’s decision to adopt Dick a whole lot more.

Barbara would adore a little brother.

Though it would obviously be temporary.

The next thing Jim knows is Bruce’s voice on the phone.

“Hello? Jim? Why did you call?”

He finally snaps out of his daze, and answers quickly.

“Bruce, hey, I need a favour.”

“If this is about Barbara’s school fees it’s already a yes-”

“No. Make me a foster parent.”

Silence.

“What?”

“Thanks Bruce, see you at dinner next week!” Jim quickly hangs up the call, and feels pressure leave his chest that he didn’t even know was there.

Jason just has to hang on a tiny bit longer.