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Always Too Late

Summary:

Jason wakes up after over a year of torture, now in the hands of the League, his body mostly mended. He's given the resources and the means to grow again and become better than the child who he believes died in that abandoned wing of Arkham. And he's also given the bastard son of Bruce fucking Wayne to bring back with him, despite his feelings on children being involved.

Arriving in Gotham, after months of planning and years of training, his plan started with one simple step. Locating the new Robin. Only, just like everything else in his life so far, that step suddenly wasn't so simple.

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A world where Joker Junior doesn't just "recover" when given anti-venom. A world where Jason Todd didn't die, but Bruce still lost him and his faith. A world where Nightwing is MIA. A world where Damian may never be Robin, but still flies over the rooftops of Gotham with his brothers. A world where Bruce tries his best, but will it ever be enough? Will he ever learn from his past mistakes? Will he always be too late?

Based on my Joker Junior & Red Hood AU on tiktok (@stardyzzled)

Notes:

Hello! Please read!!
This is my first fanfic, so please be nice to me 3 (or be brutally honest, both work!)
This is going to the be the official lore for the Joker Junior AU on my tiktok (@stardyzzled)
This first chapter is mostly an introduction to Jason Todd & Damian Wayne for this AU! It's not too dialogue heavy!
Also, I'm sorry to say but Tim/JJ are only mentioned in this chapter! You will be seeing him soon though!!
Please enjoy and please thank my beta readers for making sure this was eligible...

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Intro

Chapter Text

It was supposed to stop with him. Everything should have ended after him. Bruce should have seen the aftermath and finally gotten over his stupid morals and codes, just this once and ended it. Bruce had seen the footage. He’d seen the things done to Jason that year where he’d been lost to him. He’d seen the way they had broken him in those damned traffic cone colors. He made sure of it. And that should have been the end of it. But of course, nothing was ever that cut and dry. Not with the bat involved, anyways.

At the very least, there had been some hope in Jason’s heart that Bruce would let go of his habit of dragging children into it. Dick had been a fully fledged and independent vigilante when Jason last saw him, and well, Jason was removed from the picture. So, there had been hope that maybe with the first sidekick gone and the second “dead”, Bruce would simply learn to work alone, like he always advertised. Or at least, that it would be Jason at his side again.

Wrong. Jason had been proven painfully wrong. Once he was coherent, the first thing he’d asked about was Bruce. His father. His father would be worried. His father would be coming. He was freed, he was healed somehow, and his father would finally be able to come for him. To bring him home.

“And what makes you think that?” The cold, almost amused tone of the man in front of him had confused him. He hadn’t understood what the implications were. Hadn’t known that he’d already been replaced with another clueless kid running around in bright colors at Bruce’s side. Clueless to how deep the dangers working with Batman truly ran.

“He’s- He’s looking for me.” Jason’s voice sounded almost too desperate, even for himself. “He was close, I know he was close, I-”

“He was looking, yes. But he was far from being close, child.” A chuckle, as cold as the rest of the man’s words. “He failed you. He was never going to find you in time. You’re actually quite lucky, you know.” Ra’s Al Ghul walked up to the young bird, cupping his chin. “The detective failed. And when he realized he had, he gave up. He took another boy in, how very true to his nature. There’s already another bird flapping about in your colors.”

“Then how am I-” Jason’s eyes stung, his brows furrowed in disbelief. “How am I lucky?” He bit out, jerking his face away from the cold hand.

“Because here, with us, you can be so much more, Jason. You can do what the detective cannot in Gotham. With our help, of course.” Ra’s Al Ghul set his hands behind his back, turning to walk a few steps away again. “You know the worst of the scum in that city. You know what needs to be done.”

Jason made a face, brows pinching. “Batman takes care of them. Batman-”

“-let the Joker walk free, even after receiving the footage.”

“What?” Jason felt his heart drop, his stomach lurching.

“When we rescued you, we prioritized the evidence of what had happened and your wellbeing. We sent footage to the detective of what had transpired. His response.. Well, let’s just say, I may have chosen to tell a little white lie about the state of yourself when we realized he could not do what was best for you. See, you must understand..” Ra’s Al Ghul turned to him, a sympathetic smile on his face. Even Jason could see past it. “It’s better he think you aren’t alive. By the time your body was healed enough to awaken you, he’d already replaced you. That clown was still staining his city, along with all the others who hurt you. I’ve decided that you are better off here, where you can be trained right, and be given the means to finally clean up the mess that the detective refuses to. Here, you can grow. In Gotham, you were doomed to suffocate.”

“You-!” The more he spoke, the more Jason… The more he became enraged. Not just at Bruce, for replacing him, for failing him, for letting everybody who hurt him keep running free, but at Ra’s Al Ghul for assuming what was best for him. For lying to his father. For taking him out of Gotham. For- Jason moved to run at the man, but a woman’s voice, as sharp, but much less amused than the old man’s cut in behind him.

“That would be ill-advised.” She said simply, walking into the room behind Jason. He turned quickly, hands up, ready to defend himself, but his shoulders dropped when she didn’t match his challenge, only smiling. It wasn’t warm.

“I’m glad to see you’re well enough to be combative. The treatment was quite tedious to get your body working right again.” She mused, walking up to him, and tentatively resting her hand on his shoulder. It felt- it felt oddly familiar, and the more he tried to recognize why, the more it hurt his head. “But please understand, my father only has your best interest in mind keeping you here. He’s right. Bruce cannot be what you need. What you want. We can help you. We can be what you need.” She assured him, and in that moment, Jason felt himself let go of something he’d held onto for so long.

Faith. Faith in Batman. Faith in Bruce. He’d failed. The months upon months of torture at the hands of people who Bruce could have long since put an end to were the real proof. The League, they meant nothing in this situation. He didn’t trust this woman, and he sure as hell didn’t trust the old man. But where Batman had failed him, they’d filled in. Where Batman made Robin have restraint, even against the worst of Gotham, these people seemed to understand that Gotham needed more. And well, Jason was curious. Curious as to what they were claiming they could offer. Curious as to how, after everything, they had seemed to mend his body. So what if Batman wouldn’t approve? What was Batman, other than a man who couldn’t even protect his own son.

.

.

Jason admitted to himself now, he had been rather rash. But between having his body quite literally stitched back together, and then having Bruce’s failure and his replacement tossed into his face, he had his own reasons to have been rash. To be angry. To perhaps put an overdramatic plan into motion with the help of the League of Assassins. It would benefit Gotham. It would do more than give criminals a slap on the wrist after each death they caused under Batman’s watch. It would teach Batman a lesson. It would give Jason closure.

And it all started with actually locating the new bird in town. Well, by now, he was hardly new. It had been more than a few years of training and further healing of his body, and months of planning, for Jason to be prepared to finally enter Gotham again. By now, the new Robin should be just the Robin. It should be rather easy, between himself and the kid. Now, don’t get him wrong. His whole plan revolved around how children should never be in this line of business. How everything that happened to Jason shouldn’t have happened, not because Batman should have made it to him in time, but instead because Bruce should never have put him in that damned costume in the first place. The whole point was there was no space for a child in that line of work, and Batman should have never had a Robin.

But Damian was, as much as it pained him to say, different. Damian was raised by the daughter of Ra’s Al Ghul. Damian was ten times more skilled than Jason was by the end of his Robin training when they first met. And Damian had only been about eight when they first met, but he swore the kid had a scowl that could put Batman to shame. And the skills that not even a young Bruce Wayne likely had, if watching him take down three adult men in the span of a minute was anything to go by. It was frankly impressive, if Jason could get past the fact that this was an eight year old. He should be watching Disney movies and playing with friends or something. Not learning how to take down and kill targets. Not being made into a child soldier. It pulled on something in Jason. It made him angry, outraged, it made him sad. And not just for Damian, but also for the boy who’d died in that abandoned Arkham wing. Jason may not have actually died, but the Jason who had woken up and spoken to Ra’s Al Ghul and joined the League, he would never be the same as that kid. But Damian was different. Damian proved to Jason just how serious he took his training. Damian proved that whether he should be there or not, he fit in. He was more than capable. And Jason had no authority to do a thing about it. He was too busy as it was with himself.

Honestly, it was a lot less shocking than it should have been to find out this was Bruce’s son. Talia told him everything only a day after she finally introduced him to Damian. More than he thinks he needed to know, or even wanted to. But he listened, and he found himself honestly liking her more by the end of it. She never wanted this for Damian, but there was no choice here thanks to Ra’s Al Ghul. She had done her best to protect her son, even at the cost of distancing herself from him. She had done everything in her power to ensure that he would survive.But his time here was coming to an end. Damian wanted, needed, a new purpose. And Talia had one for him.

To go with Jason. Which, of course, Jason had at first refused. Brushing aside the fact that this was the son of the man who let him die, and the last thing he wanted to do was deliver another child soldier to him, he couldn’t imagine possibly bringing Damian back to Gotham with him. There was no place for a child at his side when he returned. He wasn’t Batman. It was dangerous. But really, wasn’t here just as dangerous? Was Gotham any worse than a literal league of Assassins? At least if he was with Jason, Jason could protect him. From the league, and from the dangers of Gotham he knew like the back of his hand. At least with Jason, Jason could control what missions he went on. Damian wasn’t him. Damian was capable, and treating him like a child would get neither of them anywhere. But he was sure he could work around it to keep this kid out of the same situation he had fallen into. He could let Damian be useful without risking finding him chained, beaten and broken. And maybe, selfish and childish as this hope was, he could be a fun older brother. Show Damian how to lighten up a bit.

Which was how Jason Todd found himself back in the streets of Gotham, Damian Wayne at his side, walking through the once familiar alleys and stepping into a warehouse discreetly afforded by Ra’s Al Ghul. Not discreetly enough that Batman wouldn’t eventually become curious, but they were in Crime Alley territory. And from all of Jason’s provided information, no amount of shady business over here was dragging the bat in, unless it happened to be a direct invitation. Jason already knew that, but it seemed that in his absence, the neglect of certain parts of the city had only gotten worse.

Damian wrinkled his nose as they stepped in, but had otherwise said nothing.He didn’t need to. Jason knew exactly what he was thinking. The conditions of living had certainly changed, and Jason only snorted a bit at the response.

“Yeah, no chance at five star hotels or servants here, bat boy.” Damian narrowed his eyes at the nickname. Neither of them held Batman in high favors. Damian was clearly more fond of his mother. At first, Jason hadn’t been able to understand how he could favor either of them. It had taken getting to know her over the past four years for him to realize what could possibly have made him so attached to her. It was that she did care. She didn’t show it conventionally. She showed her love through training. She showed her love by building him into what he was. The same as she did with Jason, he’d eventually realized. Her detachment had never been for disinterest, or disapproval. And sure, that was something. But it still didn’t make room for attachment. It only made room for some kind of trust, he figured. Even Bruce had been like a father to him out of costume. But even outside of training, Jason still didn’t see any signs of Damian and Talia being family.

It was only when Jason realized that Talia was the only one who put her hand on Jason’s back when he was knocked down in training, the only one who offered him a hand up, the only one who told him of his improvement, that he began to understand. Just as Damian had learned since birth. Talia did, by League standards, show her care well. It was such a subtle language of love and care, and yet he picked up on it all the same as time went on. When another assassin was felled in training, he wrapped himself up, licked his own wounds. When Damian or Jason fell, it was often Talia who cleaned their wounds, wrapping them and lecturing them about how to do better next time. Not because she was disappointed or angry, but because she was worried. Because she knew they could do better. Because she wanted them to do better. And that- Well, all things considered, Jason was grateful for it. And he was glad Damian had at least that. He never felt insecure that his mother didn’t at least care about him. And Jason came to find her as much of a comfort as Damian. Their connection didn’t lie in Bruce Wayne. It flourished in Talia Al Ghul. The reason both of them kept surviving.

“Tt. Of course. Mother already told me what to expect here.” Damian crossed his arms, standing in the living room as Jason dropped a bag onto a counter and pulled out a teapot, thanking the league for the pre-furnished safehouse once more.

“Good. I got to live like you for a while, now you get to live like me.”

Damian said nothing in response, perching himself on the arm of the couch, opening up the laptop he’d brought in his own bag. Jason didn’t bother him, knowing exactly what Damian wanted. To start their plan. To find this new Robin. To probably meet his father at least once. To-

“You said there would be plenty of articles to study on Robin’s appearances.” Damian’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Jason cocked his head to the side.

“Aren’t there? There’s always stalkers around Gotham, chasing vigilantes around on the rooftops and the streets.” He walked away from the boiling water, looking over Damian’s shoulder. Actually, Jason clearly remembered a very specific kid that had been chasing him and Batman for quite some time. It was more than once that Robin caught that kid and scolded him. He briefly wondered about what happened, and ignoring the pessimistic assumption that he’d probably run into more trouble than he could handle with Batman distracted, and Robin gone, he dismissed that thought. It didn’t matter now.

“They’re all dated from over a year ago.” Damian said, frowning and showing Jason the laptop. And- Yeah, he was right. The last time Robin had been spotted was over a year ago. That wasn’t right. Talia hadn’t said anything about that. Nobody had said a word about Robin being MIA for over a year. A familiar sense of dread settled in Jason’s stomach. Did Batman know this time? Did Bruce change his mind, throw the new bird to the streets? That couldn’t be right. There was no known incident to tie Robin to, and the further Jason looked, the more frustrated he got. He was leaning back, halfway to grabbing his phone and calling up Ra’s Al Ghul himself, because he had to know, when Damian spoke up once more.

“There’s a report here that says a few weeks after Robin went missing, Joker was brought to custody by Batman and Batgirl.” Damian looked over, his expression unamused. “Wasn’t that the guy who butchered your face?” Jason glared back at him. Very funny.

“Yeah. He was. I don’t see why-” Jason paused. Batgirl. Barbara. Why would Bruce keep her and get rid of Robin? Why was the Joker a target only a few weeks after Robin went missing? Jason wanted to say it was a coincidence. He wanted to believe this had nothing to do with the new Robin vanishing. But he knew better. “Let me see that article.”

Damian scowled as Jason yanked the laptop from his hand, but said nothing more as Jason studied the article. It didn’t mention Robin, but it had a link to another article at the end with a name that immediately had Jason’s stomach dropping.

“Young son of Janet and Jack Drake held for ransom by the Joker and Harley Quinn.”

Tim Drake. It hadn’t been hard to find out the new Robin’s identity. Wealthy son of one of Bruce’s neighbors. Guess he got sick of picking kids off dirty streets. That information didn’t really tell Jason much, but he’d known the name. Which meant Jason was too late. He was a year too late, and the third Robin had already paid the price. Jason cursed, tabbing through the article. Timothy Jackson Drake, currently being “treated” in the new wing of Arkham for over a year. He turned sixteen there. This new wing was being funded by Bruce fucking Wayne. No interviews permitted. No guests permitted. What the fuck? What the fuck?

“Todd, what does this mean for the mission?” Jason nearly jumped out of his skin when Damian spoke up beside him. He swore, no matter how spatially aware he was, Damian always managed to sneak up on him. He also swore that the kid was inhuman, pulling that shit. Assassin training, whatever.

“It means we need to do more research.” He sighed, pinching his nose. All their information did not come close to making them prepared for this situation. Why was the kid still in Arkham? What did his parents know? Why were no guests permitted? Where was the Joker right now? Where was Harley Quinn? What happened?

Things only a few people would know. And lucky for him, they’d already recorded a damn good schedule to get around the Batman and speak to them.

“More research? These articles are useless though. We would need-”

“Somebody close to the target.” Jason looked back at Damian, grinning, though there was nothing but bitter annoyance behind his eyes. “You and I are going to go talk to my grandfather, Damian.”

“The butler?”

Jason sighed, eyes rolling. “Yes, Damian. The butler.”