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Not for the first time, Tim thanked Gotham’s abysmal weather. Rain meant that it would be harder for anyone to tell that he’d been crying. Distantly, he thinks he should have brought an umbrella, but something about standing in front of his mother’s grave in the pouring rain was too cathartic to resist.
He knelt down just long enough to place a small, round stone on her gravestone. Most of the Gotham elites who had come to her funeral seven months ago had left flowers; Tim had been the only one who had left a small stone. His mother had never been all that religious, and neither had Tim, but it was tradition, so Tim left a stone.
“Hey mom, it’s been a while. I meant to come visit you sooner, but a lot of stuff came up. I know it’s not an excuse for being a bad son, but I’m here now. I wanted to see you on my birthday; I turned fourteen today. Last year you promised you’d actually be in Gotham for my birthday this year. I guess, for the first time in my life, that wasn’t a lie.” Tim bit back a sob. “I just wanted you to be here. Be careful what you wish for, I guess.”
Tim was an awful son, he was saying cruel things about his mother to her grave. He knew he was supposed to respect the memory of the dead, but once he started, the words just kept coming, even though there was no one to hear them. “You left me, but that’s not even a surprise, because that’s what you always do. Did. I just wanted to be good enough. I just wanted you to want me. My entire life, I tried to be the perfect son, get the best grades, never make mistakes. Maybe then you’d want me. It was never enough. You just kept leaving.
Every time you would come back, I’d try to figure out what you wanted from me. I tried to figure out what I would have to do to be good enough for you to be able to stand being around me. Even if it was something I couldn’t do, at least I would know why I was never good enough.”
Tim wasn’t able to bite back the sobs anymore; they tore through him, but they came out silently, like they always did. “You’re- you’re gone. You’re dead. So now I’ll never know. I’ll never know why you didn’t want me. I’ll never be able to figure out how to make you want me. I’m sorry, mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. I’m sorry I wasn’t the son you wanted. I love you, mom.”
Tim stood in front of his mother’s grave in the pouring rain in silence. He couldn’t really tell how long he stood there; it could have been minutes, it could have been hours, but the only thing registering for Tim was the weight in his chest and the rain on his skin.
When the rain started to lighten, Tim turned away from the grave without another word, and walked deeper into the graveyard. He had one more grave to visit before he went back to the Manor.
Jason wasn’t exactly sure how he’d gotten to this point. He’d started the day wanting to follow the Replacement Robin around to figure out which buttons to push to make it hurt when he finally managed to confront the kid who stole his life. He hadn’t expected to follow the kid to his mom’s grave. He definitely hadn’t expected to listen to the kid practically begging a dead woman to tell him why she didn’t love him.
Jason had a soft spot for kids; he knew this about himself. Hell, it’s part of his whole shtick as the Red Hood. He protects kids, whether it’s from the criminals of Gotham or their own shitty parents. He hadn’t predicted that the perfect new Robin Bruce had put into a dead boy’s costume would be the same kind of kid he wanted to watch out for.
During the fifteen minutes the kid stood there in silence, Jason scrapped any part of his plan that involved hurting the kid. He was still pissed about being replaced, and the Green was still itching to make him pay for it, but Jason wasn’t gonna hurt a kid. Not now, not ever. The fact that he had ever wanted to, Pit Madness or not, made him feel a little sick.
He could get revenge on Bruce without beating the shit out of a fourteen year old.
When he finally saw the kid turn to leave, he got ready to leave himself. To Jason’s surprise though, the kid turned away from the graveyard’s entrance, walking even deeper in. Curious where the kid was going, Jason followed.
The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, and it was easy to read the inscription on the grave the kid stopped in front of.
Jason Peter Todd-Wayne.
Beloved Son and Brother.
Jason’s mind went blank. The kid was visiting the grave of the Robin he’d replaced. The one Jason had clawed his way out of. The one where the part of him that had been Bruce Wayne’s son and Batman’s partner still rested.
The kid fell to his knees in front of Jason’s grave and placed a small stone atop a small pile of them. Jason wondered who had left the other ones. Alfred and Dick would have left flowers. Jason doubts Bruce would have left anything at all.
Replacement sat there, kneeling in the wet grass, and he began to speak. “Hey, Jason. I know it’s been a while since I last visited. It’s been hard to come here ever since- ever since my mom’s funeral. I never meant for it to be this long. I’m sorry. I made you a promise, and I’m doing my best to keep it. It’s just hard right now. Everything is so hard. How are you supposed to keep going when everything hurts this bad?”
Jason wasn’t sure what promise Replacement was talking about. He’d only met the kid once or twice at galas Bruce had forced him to go to. He sure hadn’t promised anything to Jason then.
“I don’t think Bruce is suicidal anymore, at least.” What the fuck? “I managed to stop him from going completely off the rails, and he seems a little better now.” What the fuck? “He still doesn’t really want me around, but he finally smiled at me for the first time about a month ago.” What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. “I don’t think he’s going to need me around much longer. The doctors think my dad is gonna wake up from his coma soon, so I won’t need to live with Bruce much longer. I’ll still check up on him and make sure he’s doing alright, I promise.”
It's official. Jason’s brain was breaking. Everything the kid just said contradicted everything the Pit was whispering and now nothing made sense at all. The Pit hissed that the kid was lying, but Jason pushed that down. The kid thought he was alone in a graveyard. Why the fuck would he lie?
All of Jason’s plans started falling through his fingers like sand, his ironclad faith in the need for vengeance against Batman turning into dust around him. He needed to know more. He needed information. He may not be the World’s Greatest Detective, and he may not be a super genius like the new little bird, but he was still a detective. He just needed more evidence.
He was about to flee the graveyard and go back to his main safehouse to reevaluate his plans when he heard the kid sneeze. Of course, the kid had been standing out in the rain for over half an hour, and unlike Jason, he wasn’t wearing waterproof clothes or a thermoregulated helmet. He was also built like a twig that would be snapped in half by the slightest breeze. Of course he would get sick.
Jason made a split second decision and stepped out from his hiding place. “Hey there, little birdie.”
The kid leapt to his feet and whirled around to face Jason. “R- Red Hood. What are you doing here?” He was obviously trying to keep his voice steady, but it was shaky from a combination of fear and the fact that he’d just been sobbing.
“I came to scope out my replacement. Imagine my surprise when I find him in a graveyard talking to a dead boy.”
“Your replacement?” Tim asked, bewildered. Jason could see the gears in his little detective head turning, and he heard the muttered, “little birdie?” under Tim’s breath.
The moment the lightbulb turned on, shock lit up the kid’s face. “Jason?”
Jason laughed, though he knew the voice regulator in his helmet made it sound eerie. “Got it in one, Baby Bird.”
Tim’s head swiveled back and forth between Jason and his grave, and when he turned back to Jason, he tilted his head to the side in confusion. Jason tried not to coo; the kid really was like a baby bird. “You died.”
“I did.”
“You came back?”
Jason took off his helmet. “Yeah, I did.”
“You’re the Red Hood.” It wasn’t a question, so Jason didn’t answer. He didn’t really need to. “Why?”
Jason sighed. “Someone needs to do what Batman isn’t willing to do. If he’s not going to protect this city from people like the- like the Joker, I will.” Tim didn’t say anything about Jason stumbling over his murderer’s name, and Jason was thankful for it.
“Why wouldn’t you come home?”
Jason snorted. “They don’t want me to come home. I’m a killer; I don’t follow Batman’s precious rules. If I tried to go back to the Manor, Batman would throw me straight into Arkham.”
Confusion flitted across Tim’s face. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re his son. He’s missed you so much. If he knew you were alive, I think he’d actually cry with joy. He’d welcome you with open arms, so would Dick and Alfred.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Oh, so B’s okay with killing now, huh? He wouldn’t toss you to the curb if you killed a man?”
Tim shook his head. “It’s different. I’m not his son. Of course he’d fire me if I broke the rules, and I’m only staying with him because I wouldn’t be able to be Robin if I was in foster care. You’re his son. He might not like that you kill people, but he would never throw you in Arkham.”
Okay, either this kid had some serious misunderstandings about how Bruce saw him, or Bruce had turned into a massive asshole since Jason died. Jason hoped it was the former, though something told him it was probably somewhere in between.
The kid sneezed again, but this time it was three sneezes in a row. He seriously needed to get out of the rain. Jason sighed. “Alright kid, we can talk more about this when we’re inside. Come on.”
“What?”
“Come on, I’m taking you to my apartment, and I’m gonna make you some chicken noodle soup. Then I’m gonna call Dickface and make him explain why the fuck our little brother seems to think he’d get thrown into foster care or back to his neglectful dad because he’s not ‘useful’ anymore.”
“Little brother?” Tim’s voice was laced with confusion and fragile hope.
“Yeah, Timbit. Little brother.” The kid’s smile was small, but it was just as bright as any Robin was supposed to be.
He wasn’t going to tell Dick or Bruce where to find Tim. Let them panic for a little while about someone kidnapping the Baby Bird. That’d show them to keep better track of their Robin. They could run around Gotham searching for him while Jason kept him on his couch watching every Pride and Prejudice movie adaptation ever made.
But first, it was time to get the kid some soup.