Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You have no idea how he lives with it. You pour your fifth cup of coffee and take out some more homework. It had been three days since you were last able to get a good night’s sleep. The rest of the time you had to make due with one to two hour naps that your soulmate gave you sporadically throughout the days. The fact that your soulmate is a chronic insomniac has been the bane of your existence lately. You’d normally get through the rough patches by being heavily caffeinated, and knowing that your soulmate was also up with you helped, but this time it was entirely too long and you swore that you were starting to see things.

It also didn’t help that when your soulmate did decide to grace you with the ability to sleep, it was usually in the middle of the day, which left you with fumbling for some sort of excuse or running out of class so that you can find the comfiest spot within 100 feet of you to curl up and take a desperate nap while you had the chance.

Soulmates came in many forms these days and you definitely got the short end of the stick there. You couldn’t help but be jealous of your friends who got some pretty words on their skin, or songs stuck in their head. Hell, you’d probably even take pain sharing at this point. You’d literally kill right now for a dream-sharing soul bond, even if it meant you’d be alone all the time at least you'd be able to get some sleep.

There was one good thing about sleeping the bare minimum for brain function (you’d looked up that number, fearing that your soulmate’s poor choices might kill you) and that was that you had ample time to get shit done. You’d completed two bachelor's degrees in three years while taking both day and night classes, and were starting on a master’s. You could be productive with your time as long as you drank a disgusting amount of coffee and energy drinks.

Speaking of coffee, by this point you were finishing the cup, and were fully intending to start the sixth when you realized that you were out of beans. Cursing, you debated the merits of going out for more beans or just roughing through the tiredness. Neither of the options seemed appealing. The streets of Gotham were notoriously dangerous at night, even with the bats patrolling. They couldn’t be everywhere. But still…

In one of your worst ideas of the year, you found yourself grabbing your keys and heading out into the night, homework in tow. There was a 24 hour coffee shop/diner not too far from your place. It was known for housing the only clientele awake and daring enough to be out in Gotham at his time. Naturally, there were a couple of university students and gangsters already there when you finally walked in. Everyone looked up warily at your entrance, but quickly realized that you weren’t a threat and went back to whatever they were doing. You walked straight up to the bar and nodded at the barista. Julia. She knew you well enough to know what you were going to order already and started making it. You got your coffee and set up your work. Walking through dark Gotham streets twice in one night was just asking for trouble, so you could wait here until sunrise as long as you kept ordering specialty coffees, which was your plan anyway.

You got a few hours of peaceful work in. The sun was just barely peeking out when you were startled out of your daze by a voice right next to you. You visibly jumped and then turned to see most likely another student. He looked to be about your age, tall and thin with black hair. He was talking to the barista so you couldn’t see half of his face, but you could tell that he was undeniably handsome. You blushed and looked away. At least you can blame it on the lack of sleep. You blamed a lot of things on lack of sleep since it was a very convenient excuse.

“Wow, I’ve never seen anyone actually order more caffeine in one drink than her,” Julia commented with a laugh and gestured over to you. You smile tiredly at her, then turn to the guy next to you.

“Rough night?” he asks, offering you a tired smile back. You realized that he probably actually looked more tired than you, which momentarily stunned you.

“Rough life,” you say back nonchalantly, then go back to chewing on your pen. A bad habit of yours.

“Are you a student?” he asks after a moment, probably looking down at the careful notes that you were taking from the book on the table. You were honestly surprised. Most people in Gotham were too wary to strike up conversation. Particularly around these parts late at night. He probably wanted something from you.

“Yeah…” you said a little suspiciously, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, cool. What are you majoring in?” he asked, still seemingly oblivious, but he looked genuinely interested. You got the feeling that he wasn’t around other people much, but not in a bad way. In the sort of naive way that said that he still trusted random people on the street to not beat and rob him. It was kind of cute if you were being honest. You rattled off your degrees and what you were working on. He seemed impressed.

“Wow, you seem a little young for all that,” he said without thinking, then visibly looked like he regretted it.

You laughed and said, “It doesn’t take that long when you have 30 plus credits per term.”

“30?! Is that even possible?”

“It is when I get about one night of sleep per week,” you say, then raise your cup to him and take a deep drink.

“I hear that,” he chuckles and takes a drink of his own drink. It’s silent for long enough that you feel the need to either say something or blow him off completely, but he seemed nice enough.

“What about you?” you ask, aware that it’s a pretty open-ended question.

“I’m not a student. I just have a job that keeps me up a lot,” he confesses and that catches your interest.

“What sort of job is it?” you asked immediately and he seems startled by your question. You realize that you sounded pretty pushy and then feel a strange urge to explain yourself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry there. It’s just that I know my soulmate doesn’t get a lot of sleep and I’ve been trying to figure out why.”

“How do you know that they don’t get a lot of sleep?” he asks curiously.

“That’s our bond. I can’t hit REM sleep unless they’re also asleep. So the doctors say. Literally all that I know about him is that the guy has some serious issues with counting sheep,” you say dryly and take another sip of sweet sweet caffeine.

“Huh, I’ve never heard of a bond like that before,” he says thoughtfully.

“Yeah, it’s not even that uncommon, but it’s usually not a problem because people usually sleep eight hours at a time even if they’re in different time zones, but not this fucker. I got like 20 hours of sleep in July, and then there was September where I swear it was all just thirty minute naps every 2 hours. If I ever find this asshole I am strapping him down to a bed, and not in the fun way,” you started babbling and then realized what you had just said and closed your mouth tight. You swear you could feel your entire face turn red all at once.

But he just laughed, and you couldn’t help the fact that you noticed how handsome he was all over again. When he could stop laughing he looked at you and said, “Well, he could be a cop or something. They’re always up at odd hours and there’s plenty of work to do in Gotham.”

“Maybe. Are you a cop then?” You weren’t entirely convinced that any cop in Gotham was going to have the dedication to stay up like that for the job.

“I guess you could say so. I work with them,” he said, not really giving an answer, but you weren’t about to push again. Then he cocked his head to the side, like he was listening to something while you watched him curiously. “Well, I gotta go. Duty calls. It was nice meeting you…?”

“Y/N,” you supplied helpfully.

“Tim.” He shook your hand and gave you one last smile before he strode out of the shop. You sighed and got back to your homework, wishing idly for the billionth time that someone would just punch the lights out of your soulmate so that you could finally get some rest.

---

Tim climbed into the car that Dick had pulled up to the coffee shop, still thinking about the conversation that he had with the girl. He hadn’t ever really thought too hard about his soulmate, or lack thereof. There were never any obvious signs that he even had one, but sometimes the bonds that form were so obscure that people never found them, so it wasn’t really anything that he was too worried about. He was far too worried about his work and keeping Gotham safe than he was about finding his soulmate to be honest.

“Whatcha thinking about, babybird?” Dick asked him after a moment of silence.

“Have you ever heard of a soul bond where they can only sleep when the other one is?” Tim asked.

“Yeah, those aren’t terribly uncommon. Though, it’s really not a good one for finding your soulmate I’ve heard. Not enough information to go on. Why?” Dick asked conversationally, though it was obvious that he was curious.

“I just met a girl in the coffee shop who’s bond is like that.” Tim shrugged. There was no real reason for him to be fixating on this like he was. He just couldn’t get her light laugh out of his head. Or the way she looked when she had blushed furiously at her own words. Or all of her dry comments about her soulmate. He was just going to chalk it up as lack of sleep and call it that.

Dick seemed to have other plans, though, as he immediately stopped the car in the abandoned street.

“Whoa, what if that was your soulbond?” Dick asked excitedly. Tim’s seeming lack of interest in even figuring out what kind of bond he had had always seemed to confuse Dick, since he was happily dating his soulmate, Kori. His had been easy, though. Her name had been written on his wrist since birth and there’s really not a lot of people out there with that name.

“It’s not. I’ve never had trouble sleeping when I want to,” Tim said dismissively.

“But let’s just think about this for a second. You sleep like maybe twice a month. Maybe you don’t have trouble sleeping because they’re just about as dead on their feet as you and will take any sleep that they can get. They’re not going to be the ones to be keeping you awake,” Dick argued. “What if you just met your soulmate in there? Eh?”

Tim sighed, “The chances of that are--”

“I know you know the math, but it happens, right? We should go back and--”

“No. I have like 20 leads to catch up on tonight and then I’m going to the WE meeting tomorrow morning, with patrol with B tomorrow night. I don’t have time to waste on a ‘probably not’,” Tim insisted stubbornly and finished his coffee.

“That poor, poor girl,” Dick muttered, but then didn’t press the issue and drove straight home.

As per his words, Tim stayed up doing research on leads until it was time to go to the board meeting. He kept a continuous stream of coffee going throughout the entire thing, but by the time that he was suiting up again for patrol that night, he found himself yawning deeply. Bruce, of course, didn’t miss this.

“If you need to sit out of this one I’ll go ahead without you,” he said, voice gruff.

“No, I’ll be fine. Just a little tired. Nothing to be worried about,” Tim responded, kicking himself for letting it show.

“Alright.” Bruce was never one for a lot of words.

Patrol that night was mostly uneventful. That is, until they found themselves stumbling into an all out gang war. They had heard the tip from some small time arms dealers that they had shaken information from. There was something big going down in old town Gotham. When they arrived, it was to a giant gunfight in the middle of one of the buildings. That wouldn’t necessarily be a problem if not for the many squatters inhabiting the building. People were screaming and grabbing their children, trying desperately to get out of the way of the violence. Batman and Red Robin sprung into action.

“Civilians.” Batman didn’t have to say anything else to let Tim know what to do. He immediately headed out for the ones struggling in the middle and pulled them out of the line of fire, blocking a few bullets with his cape. After that he turned and took care of a gunman who had the bright idea of sneaking up behind him. Honestly, they were so untrained he probably could have done it with his eyes closed. Actually, closing his eyes did sound really good about now…

No. Tim shook his head to clear his thoughts and wake himself up. Losing focus during a mission was one of the best ways of getting yourself killed. He zoned in on throwing more birdarangs at the attackers that had by now all switched their focus from trying to kill each other to trying to kill them. Tim continued to shield the civilians as they retreated and they were almost all saved when he realized his mistake.

The building, which had already been old when it was the heart of Gotham city, was taking too much damage from the bullets that were being shot wildly in hopes of hitting him or Batman. Tim should have been thinking of this, should already have planned for it and gotten out of the way, but he was almost dead on his feet from fatigue. He spotted one last woman scrambling to get out of the building, but she was running into the part that was already groaning in protest and threatening to collapse into itself. Tim didn’t waste any more time thinking and sprung into action. Using his grappling hook on the sturdiest bit of roof that he could find, he swung over, catching the woman just before a large beam could fall on her and shoved her outside of the building, but he was just a second too late.

The building came down with the sounds of groaning wood and sharp crashes. Tim was completely engulfed in debris and through the burst of sound and the ringing in his ears he distinctly remembered one single crack that sent pain blossoming up his right arm. He didn’t really even have time to register what happened when Batman was there, lifting a large beam to get down to him.

“Robin!” He heard Bruce cry out in alarm and he struggled to turn over and assess himself. All things considered that could have been a lot worse, he thought to himself. Bruce came to grab him with that same look of terror in his eyes that he always had when Tim got hurt. Nobody wanted another Jason. Tim felt vaguely guilty, he should know better than to go out tired and get hurt on the job.

“I’m okay,” Tim said, through clenched teeth. “The woman?”

“She got away fine,” Bruce answered, helping Tim up and looking him over. Tim gingerly felt his right arm. Yep. Definitely broken. He was not going to hear the end of this.

“Let’s go home.”

Three hours later, Tim was laying in bed, with a full cast on one arm, several stitches over the rest of him, and a headache that could split rocks. Back at the cave, Dick and Alfred had worried over him like he was still a child, while Bruce had done his silent brooding thing that happened whenever one of them got hurt. Damian had rolled his eyes and told him that he was stupid, while Jason had just shrugged and left the room. The girls had been out on another mission.

Tim was still beating himself up over the whole thing. It should never have happened and now he was going to be out of commission for a couple of weeks at least. Dick had basically dragged him into the bed and commanded that he go to sleep. Tim wouldn’t even be surprised if Dick was still standing outside, making sure that Tim was following orders. He groaned in frustration, but finally let himself close his eyes. Sleeping was supposed to make you heal faster, after all.

For the next two weeks it seemed like he did nothing but sleep. Or lay in bed worrying about the increasingly large to do list that he was putting together in his head. Everyone was telling him to relax and let them handle things, but he trusted them with his work about as far as he could throw them, which was exactly zero in this stupid cast. They even shooed him out of the office when he tried to do work that wasn’t even dangerous. Bruce had taken over his jobs at WE, probably still feeling guilty that he had let Tim go out on patrol. The result was that he was going out of his mind with boredom. Curse having a family that cared about his well-being.

He guessed that the one upside about this whole thing was that he was well-rested for the first time in about a year. He had almost forgotten what that had felt like. It was nice, but he was certainly itching to get back to his old life. Back to actually feeling like he was making a difference and helping people. That restlessness was what had him going out, insisting in his head that he needed fresh air away from all of them to keep healing. He was almost there, just a few days away from getting his cast off. He snuck into the garage and was picking a car when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Going somewhere babybird?” It was Dick. Tim immediately wanted to hit something in frustration. Nothing was secret when you lived with all of the world’s greatest detectives.

“Just out for a drive. I feel like I haven’t seen Gotham in forever,” Tim tried to sound innocent and then sighed. As soon as he had heard the footsteps he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to get what he wanted.

“Great! I’ll drive then!” Dick chirped happily, not giving any room for argument as he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. “You can’t drive with a broken wing.”

Tim sighed again, but got into the car.

“Anywhere in particular you wanna go?” Dick asked, glancing at him from the side. Tim immediately became suspicious.

“I didn’t have anything in mind,” Tim finally answered. Dick usually got his way. With everything. And you usually couldn’t even be mad about it because the guy was so likable.

“Great. I know just the spot then!” Dick pulled out of the driveway and raced down the streets of Gotham.

---

Three weeks. You had gotten three weeks of blissful, uninterrupted sleep. You thanked the universe for this good luck, and hoped that your soulmate had finally realized the error in his ways. Just in case he didn’t, though, you took every opportunity that you had for naps and sleep, knowing that at any time you could go back to the old pattern of late nights and too much caffeine.

It was too late for you on that front, though. You’d cut back on the coffee in favor of sleep, but you were still hopelessly addicted to it and found yourself back at the coffee shop more than you would like. Oh well, it was a good place to get some neglected homework done while your soulmate was still awake. Also, the barista usually didn’t care if you put your head down and slept. Not that that was a great idea in Gotham, especially in the evening like it was now. The place was surprisingly crowded for a Wednesday and that made you on edge. The crowd tonight looked rougher than usual too and something about the unease in the room had you packing up your things before you even had your second coffee. In Gotham, you learned to trust your instincts like that.

You were saying goodbye to Julia and you pulled your bag tighter over your shoulder when two new customers walked in right in front of you. You all stopped in shock and stared each other down for a moment. You were about to brush by and keep getting the fuck out of there, but then you realized that you knew one of them. Well, sorta. You wouldn’t even have recognized him, except for the fact that you remembered how handsome you had found him when you first met. You had found yourself thinking about the not-quite-stranger from time to time. You chastised yourself for that, but held back your blush and greeted him, wondering if he would remember you.

“Tim, right?” you asked, then looked over at his companion and groaned inwardly. He was just about as handsome, but clearly older. He was looking between you and Tim with a polite smile.

“Right… Y/N,” Tim cleared his throat and said, then turned to give the man next to him a murderous glare. The other man just shrugged, then gracefully offered you his hand.

“It seems you two know each other already. I’m Dick Grayson,” he introduced himself.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed awkwardly. “We just ran into each other once. I think we were both so tired that it was a miracle that we got through a whole conversation.”

Tim finally stopped glaring at Dick long enough to give you a better look. “You look a lot better,” he commented without thinking. You looked confused for a moment when he decided to add, “As in, like you finally got some sleep. Did you end up tying your soulmate to that bed?” He seemed like the one off-balance this time. You could swear that you saw him turning red. It was actually adorable. Dick seemed like he wasn’t paying attention for a moment, looking at something behind you.

You blushed as well, but then threw your head back and laughed. “Of course you would remember that. No, I don’t know what happened, but I’ve been finally able to get some sleep for once. It’s really weird.”

Dick seemed to focus back into the conversation. “You’re the sleep soulmate girl, huh? And you say you’ve actually been getting some rest lately? Huh, seems like a pretty big coincidence. Tim here has gotten more rest in the past three weeks than he has all year too. Ever since he got this.” He tapped the cast around Tim’s arm that you had somehow failed to notice until now.

Tim actively rolled his eyes and glared at Dick again. You started to understand what was going on here. Dick obviously believed that Tim was going to turn out to be your soulmate. As if you’d ever get that lucky.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about my brother. He gets these ideas in his head--”

“What time did you wake up this morning?” you asked, interrupting him, and they both seemed shocked. “What? Might as well confirm, right? Nothing like interrogating a random stranger about being your soulmate,” you laughed and gave them a wink. “But like seriously, the chances of that are--”

“7:30. My alarm rang then. I’d gotten 8 full hours on the dot,” Tim answered, also smiling and obviously humoring you. You narrowed your eyes, remembering waking up then and wanting to sleep in more.

“Okay, common time, but then I took a nap around 2 or so,” you said. There was no way…

“And that lasted about three more hours until I got bored,” Tim continued on in a quiet voice. You both stared at each other for a moment of stunned silence. Dick’s smile kept growing by the second.

"That's when my alarm rang. I have class at 5:30 that I needed to get to." Another stunned silence.

“Coincidence?” You offered, still not wanting to believe it.

“No way. See, Tim? I told you that it happens,” Dick basically sang, he seemed so happy. You noticed dryly that he seemed like he was enjoying this the most out of the three of you. Wait, something just occurred to you.

“Fuck,” you said out loud before you could stop yourself. They both looked at you questioningly. You sighed and continued, “I was so happy when I was getting enough sleep, but if it’s only because you got hurt then I am such an asshole.”

Dick belted out a laugh and Tim glared at him again like he really wished that his older brother wasn’t standing right here for this. You couldn’t blame him. Then he turned and smiled guiltily at you and said, “Don’t worry about that. If this is real then I'm probably the asshole for keeping you up all the time. I swear I don’t have problems with counting sheep, I’ve just been really busy.”

You blushed, remembering your stupid rant that you had gone on about how much you hated your soulmate. “I’m sorry--”

You were interrupted by a loud crack. It took you a second or two to realize that it was a gunshot. It took way less time for Tim and Dick, though. It seemed like you were shoved behind them before the sound even ended. It had been close, your ears were ringing. You looked up from where you were standing to see that someone from inside the shop had the barista by the wrist, pointing a handgun right in her face. The first shot must’ve been a warning shot straight into the air. You watched as several other customers in the place pulled out similar looking guns and were waving them around as the rest of the people cowered in their seats. The man holding Julia began to talk.

“If you don’t have the money to pay off the Triads for their generous protection, then we’ll have to take it from your dear customers. Everyone line up against that wall. No funny business or--” he looked down at her nametag, “Julia gets it.”

You were still in shock, but you felt a tug on your arm and you realized that Tim had been holding it. Probably how you had ended up on the other side of him. You took a breath and looked him in the eyes. You probably seemed scared, because he looked at you like he was trying to reassure you. He gave you another gentle tug and the two of you plus Dick were walking slowly to the wall that the thug had indicated, with your hands up, like the rest of the people in the shop.

When you got to the wall you saw that one of them was going down the line with a bag, and everyone was reluctantly putting anything they had of value into it. Getting robbed in Gotham was just another Tuesday to most people, but you had managed to avoid this up until now. The man was going to reach you first.

“Everything you have, right here darling,” he drawled when he was in front of you.

You made sure to keep your breathing even, though your heart was beating a million times a minute when the gun in his hand was trained on you. Beside you, you felt Tim stiffen. You pulled out your wallet with shaky hands and dropped it in. You didn’t have any more than a few bucks in there, but he didn’t have to know that.

“That everything? What’s in that bag of yours? Looks heavy,” he asked, stepping closer. He pushed some hair out of your face with the barrel.

“Unless you want textbooks and paper, yes, that’s everything,” you said, just wanting to get him out of your space. It came out a little more sharply than you had intended. He narrowed his eyes and looked like he was about to say something, but then he caught sight of Tim and Dick standing beside you.

“Whoa this might be our lucky day fellas. Take a look at this,” the guy called out and immediately the entirety of the shop was focused on them. The lead guy let go of the barista and walked over to see what was happening. He paused and then smiled evilly when he saw who was in front of him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Wayne boys. What are you doing this far south, your mansion is uptown,” he teased, though now he looked excited. “I’m glad you stopped by for a visit tonight, you can help these poor people pay up their debts for a year. Call it a part of your generous Wayne charities. Give all you’ve got. Now.” He pointed the gun right in Tim’s face and you panicked. That would be just your luck to meet your soulmate and then watch him die within the hour. When you glanced at him, though, he didn’t seem all that concerned. He reached into his pocket and then took out a wallet and handed it to the man, who opened it greedily. He took out all of the cash and then threw the wallet over his shoulder. Then he did the same with Dick.

“Hmmm, so much for the famed Wayne generosity. This will hardly cover what we came here for in the first place. I know you can do better than that,” the man said, shuffling through the bills. More money than you’d probably seen in your lifetime. You idly wondered why they were carrying so much cash with them in Gotham like idiots.

“Let’s take them. I bet daddy will pay whatever we’re asking to get them back,” another man said, sounding excited now.

“Nah,” the leader said after a second of deliberation. “Too much trouble.” You let out a sigh of relief that it didn’t seem like they were going to hurt Tim, but then you felt his large hand wrap around your arm and yank you forward into him. “Let’s take their girl. Easier to control.”

You attempted to step back from him, but his hand was like a vice. You lifted your head to see him smiling down at you. He smelled like liquor, cigarettes, and sweat. “And at least then if we don’t get our pay, there are other methods of compensation.”

Your blood ran cold at the way that he was staring at you, and you heard a disturbance behind you. You twisted as much as you could in his grip to see what was going on.

Dick was holding back an enraged looking Tim. It looked like he was ready to fight all of the thugs in the place, even with one arm in a cast. You silently thanked Dick for protecting him from what was surely suicide. How had you not realized that they were the Wayne brothers? Especially when Dick Grayson gave his full name.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see her again soon,” the man drawled and then began dragging you away from them. “As long as you follow the instructions that we give you.” You didn’t struggle, just turned one last time before leaving to get a good look at Tim, just in case. He looked livid. You gave him what you hoped was a brave smile before you left. There was no saying what was going to happen next.

---

Tim started struggling again as soon as you were out of sight, but Dick held him tight. There were still others in the shop holding guns to them, probably making sure that their leader got a clean getaway. They didn’t want to get anyone innocent killed, and they definitely didn’t want to reveal their identities. For now they’d just have to sit tight for a moment and wait for the thugs to leave. Dick didn’t blame Tim, though. Watching someone drag away your soulmate from you was one of the worst feelings in the world. Especially when she was just a civilian and didn’t have any way of defending herself. Dick didn’t have to worry about that with Kori, but that must’ve been torture for his little brother.

After what seemed like forever, the rest of the gunmen all left, having gotten what they came for. Dick let go of Tim and they both ran outside and jumped into the car that they came in.

“B. We’ve got a problem,” Dick said into his comm.

“B’s not at the phone right now, may I take a message?” Jason’s voice came back. It sounded like his mouth was full. Tim looked like he wanted to tear Jason’s eyes out. Dick put a calming hand on his shoulder. They didn’t need to waste any time right now.

“Where is he then?” Tim asked through gritted teeth.

“Whoa, hold your horses there replacement. He got called out by the League. Something about blowing up the sun. You know, the usual.” Jason was not helping.

“Jason, we’re coming to you. There was a kidnapping at the coffee shop we were at. Triads. They took Tim’s soulmate,” Dick said, figuring that they might as well get that over with. Tim shot him a glare, but still said nothing.

“They took who?” It was Damian. He must be there in the cave with Jason.

“No one. Drake doesn’t have a soulmate, because he doesn’t have a soul. He uses coffee as a substitute,” Jason says through the comms.

“Shut up, asshole. This is serious,” Tim snapped in a way that actually made them all silent for a second.

“What was the bond?” Damian asked, sounding like curiosity got the better of him.

Dick looked at Tim, who now had his face in his hands. They knew that he had to tell them one way or another or they would never get anything done.

“It was a sleeping bond,” Dick finally said when Tim remained silent.

After a shocked moment, Damian began laughing and Jason just let out an appreciative whistle and said, “Poor girl.”

“Can we focus here?” Tim asked into the comms.

There was a grunting sound and then Damian stopped laughing. Jason probably punched Damian to get him to stop. “Why’d they take her?” Jason asked and Tim was relieved that they were finally going to take this seriously.

“They recognized us and wanted money,” Dick explained. “Keep an eye out for ransom demands.”

“We know where the Triads hang out, we should go there now,” Tim complained.

“Not without a plan, supplies, and a pretty big distraction. If they get wind of something wrong then I don’t like Y/N’s chances,” Dick said dryly, giving Tim a hard look. They didn’t need to be charging in thoughtlessly right now.

“Fine,” Tim said, crossed his arms and was silent for the rest of the ride back to the manor.

---

As soon as you were out of the shop, they stuffed a bag over your head and loaded you into a car. You just focused on taking deep breaths and telling yourself that there was no use panicking now. You needed to focus on surviving. And possibly escape. In that order. If they were actually the Waynes, which you were pretty sure they were, they could probably afford whatever ransom the Triads asked of them, but on the other hand, you had met both of them for probably a grand total of twenty minutes. You didn’t know them well enough to know whether they would pay up, soulmate or not.

You were silent for the entire ride, which seemed just fine for them. When you got to your destination you were none too gently forced out of the car and led into what you assumed was a building. You still had the bag over your head so it was hard to see anything. They ripped it off when you stopped and you had to blink a few times to regain your vision in the light. When you did, you saw that you were in what looked like a repurposed warehouse. There were shitty couches all around a big TV and pool tables and workout equipment. A fully stocked bar and a few black vans. Basically everything you thought of as a stereotypical bad guys base.

“Let’s see if you got anything interesting, baby,” the leader said and let go of your arm only to pat you down roughly. It was actually less of a pat down and more of a pawing. He took his sweet time and you turned your face away, feeling absolutely disgusted, but not allowing yourself to say anything in fear that it would only make him angry. If you had nothing nice to say…

“Why so quiet babe?” Another man said, opening up a beer right behind you and almost gulping it down in one swig. “We don’t bite. Much. Normally they’d be screaming and fighting by now. It doesn’t do anything, but at least it’s entertaining.”

“Cut it, Snake,” the leader said. “Put her in the usual spot. No one touches her without my say-so. I’ve got a few calls to make.”

The leader and a couple more men led you to a support beam in the middle of the open room. There were already chains around it and they roughly shoved your hands into handcuffs at the ends. You could stand up and move a little bit, but the cuffs dug into the skin of your wrists.

“No one’s gonna pay for me. I’m not ‘their girl’ so you can just forget it,” you called after the leader, who turned to walk up to you, fury in his eyes. You regretted saying anything and were rewarded with a sharp slap across the face. It surprised you more than hurt, but you tasted blood on your lip. You tried not to let anything show, but you felt tears leak down your face involuntarily. You sighed and sat down with your back to the pillar. There was not a lot to do now but wait. And the later it got the more tired you were getting now that you were used to full nights of sleep and had failed to have your usual amount of caffeine. You let yourself wonder, just for a little bit, what Tim was up to.

---

“Alright, everyone got their parts?” Dick asked one more time, making everyone groan. They were all professional vigilantes, of course they could remember a plan. Especially a simple one like this. They had gotten the ransom call hours after Dick and Tim had gotten home. Tim had been pacing, wound tight the whole time like he was going to snap any moment. When Dick had suggested that he get some rest while they were waiting Tim had just shook his head and just said, "She's not sleeping." That had shut Dick up. Of course the gang was asking for a big chunk of change from the Waynes and to not go to the police, but they had no intention of doing either of those things. Instead, Damian strapped on his katana while Dick put on his domino mask and Jason assembled the last of his guns. Tim flexed his fingers under the cast and cursed his broken arm for about the millionth time. He still had an important part to play, though.

They all left the cave at the same time, though through a couple different vehicles. Tim was driving one of Bruce’s more expensive cars to put on a show. He was going to be the distraction. Pretend to pay the ransom, then the rest would go in and he would grab her and get the hell out of there. The plan was to get there a little late though, to give the rest of them time to strike positions and to make the bad guys sweat. For once, Tim almost agreed with Jason and Damian when they suggested that they just kill everyone inside quick and easy. The little smile that Y/N had tried to give him as she was being dragged out of the place kept replaying in his mind. There was no way that they were going to take his soulmate from him. Not when he just just met her.

“Arriving now. There’s about five armed guards outside. I’m climbing up to the second story window to get a better look inside,” Jason’s voice came through the comm. Tim continued to drive slowly, though it was just about killing him.

“I’m around back. There’s three more out here, but they’re already distracted. Shouldn’t be a problem,” Dick’s voice chimed in.

Damian, probably trying to be like Batman, just grunted to let them know that he was in position, causing Tim to roll his eyes.

“Window’s open, I can get audio,” Jason said and then they heard the sound of pacing. “There’s our girl, right in the middle. She’s way too pretty for you, Red.”

“Guards?” Tim asked impatiently, wanting to get to the point.

“There’s 11 in total. A full house. Not all of them have weapons on them, but I can see a pretty big stash in the corner. Couldn’t your girlfriend have the decency to get kidnapped by a less supplied gang?”

Tim chose to ignore that. They all listened in when the audio started.

“What, are they late or something?” It was her voice, sounding a little bit shaken, but steady.

“Shut up,” a familiar voice commanded. The leader who had taken her.

“I told you that no one was going to come. I literally don’t know them, we just happened to be in the same coffee shop at the same time. Nothing that would make them want to pay the large ransom that I’m sure you asked for.” As she talked it seemed like she was getting more confident.

“I said shut the fuck up. Do you have a death wish or something? If no one pays for you then you’re obviously as good as dead,” the man drawled, sounding agitated.

“No, I think that you should let me go in that case.”

The man barked out some surprised laughter and the sound of footsteps stopped. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you have nothing to gain from keeping me here.”

“Oh really?”

Jason made a sort of low growl that Tim interpreted as ‘you don’t want to see what just happened’. He drove a little faster. There was no way that she was going to be able to talk her way out of this.

“Really. I’m not just some runaway that can disappear without a trace. I’m a top student at the University. People will notice that I’m gone. Hell, a whole coffee shop watched the Triads take me out of the place. It’ll make Gotham U look bad, which in turn will increase the funding for student security, which will tighten patrols along your turf. I can see the headlines now: ‘Top Student Disappears, City Funding District-Wide Manhunt for Criminals Responsible’. I bet that if the Waynes are feeling guilty they might even help fund it. Famous Wayne generosity.” There was a sort of ironic sarcasm dripping from her tone when she said that. There was a moment of silence where it seems like everyone was stunned. That was actually an okay argument, as begging for your life went.

“Damn, this girl’s got some balls, I’ll give her that,” Jason murmured through the comms. “You here yet, Timbers?”

“Almost,” Tim said, ignoring the casual use of his name over the comms. It really sounded like she didn’t believe that anyone was coming for her.

“Not good enough? Well, how about this one. If I am connected to the Waynes like you seem to think, then you’ll be in even bigger trouble. Everyone knows that Bruce Wayne has connections to the Bat,” she said after the silence had stretched too long. Damian made a slightly surprised breath that they could all hear.

“What?” the leader sounded baffled, like that was the last thing that he expected to hear. To be fair, it was the last thing that any of them expected to hear too.

“Well, anyone with eyes I guess.” Tim could almost hear her rolling her eyes. “Is it really worth it to get tangled up with him? You should just let me go so that we can all forget that this thing ever happened.”

“You…” The man sounded unsure, like he was debating about actually letting her go.

“Up there!” There was a random shout, followed by gunshots and the sound of glass breaking.

“Shit!” It was Damian. He had probably been spotted. The kid was good, but too new and reckless. Tim gunned the engine, taking the car the last bit of the way at top speed as the sounds of fighting filled his ears. He skidded to a stop right outside the warehouse door, ducking to avoid the bullets hurled his way by the guards out front. With very little concern for his own safety, he barreled into the building.

Jason was standing in front of the pillar with Y/N handcuffed behind him. He had both guns out and was shooting kneecaps and arms with a marksman’s precision. Y/N was staring at his back, obviously terrified. A bullet bounced off the pillar, near her head. She screamed and ducked down, her eyes locked onto something in front of her. Tim followed her gaze to see the leader, on the ground clutching his leg and screaming in agony. A flash of light caught his eye though and he saw what had her so focused. The pair of handcuff keys hanging around his belt.

Tim took off running, counting on the others to have his back. He reached the pillar in record time and was immediately jumped by the leader, who had gotten over the initial shock of being shot. There was a short struggle, but it wasn’t too hard to wrestle the larger man to the ground and give him a good kick that would send him straight to unconsciousness. He deftly reached down and grabbed the keys off of him and turned to his soulmate. She was looking at him with wide eyes, her lips formed his name, but no sound came out. He got to work uncuffing her.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his hands closing gently around her now-freed wrists as he studied the mark on her face. She shook her head, still too shocked to speak. “Let’s go, then,” he commanded and pulled her to her feet. A quick scan of the room showed that the majority of the fighting was going on near the front exit. He pulled her toward that back, confident that Dick had done his job and cleared that out for their escape.

It was all going well until Tim felt Y/N yank on his arm, enough to throw him off-balance. He immediately turned toward her, fearing the worst, but as he turned he saw a large throwing knife buried deep into the crate behind him, where he would have been. He looked behind her to see a henchman that Dick had apparently missed, aiming another knife. Tim was faster, pulling out two birdarangs that he had concealed on him and flicking his wrist to throw them. One buried itself deep into the man's arm, causing him to scream in pain and drop the knife. The other one was deflected by the knife and clattered to the ground, skidding back toward them. He could tell that she had gotten a good look at what it was when she murmured, “Well, that explains that.” He just tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her back into a run again, not letting her catch her breath.

They broke out of the warehouse and into the early morning air. They ran past a couple more unconscious men, courtesy of Dick, and didn’t stop until they were at the designated safe spot. When he finally let go of her she immediately bent over with her hands on her knees, breathing harshly. He wasn’t sure if she was going to throw up or not. Either way, he moved closer to her and gently rubbed her back in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. In reality he was just keeping the contact with her, almost as if assuring himself that she was real.

“That was crazy,” she eventually said once she could form words. She stood up straight and looked at him. “You’re-- You just-- But--”

“Slow down and breathe, Y/N,” Tim said. She was obviously in shock. He wished he had a blanket or something to wrap her up in as she shivered in the chilly air. Tentatively, she took a step toward him, and when he didn’t move away she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. He was surprised for a moment, but then returned the hug. He could feel her face wet with tears. She was obviously letting all the fear and pain of the night out and he was content to let her.

“Whoa, we’re not interrupting anything here, are we?” It was Dick’s voice. All three of his brothers turned onto the alleyway.

“Nope,” Tim said, still just enjoying the feeling of holding his soulmate for the first time.

She pulled back from him with a small “sorry” and rubbed at her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. When she opened them, it was to Damian pointing his katana at her threateningly.

“How did you know that Bruce Wayne is Batman? Who are you working for?” he demanded. All three other boys groaned.

“Bruce Wayne is Batman?” you repeated, a little shocked. Then you looked around at them and nodded. “I guess that makes sense, doesn’t it.”

“But you told him that you knew--”

“That Bruce Wayne was connected to Batman, not that he was Batman, you little shit,” Jason said.

“It’s not that hard to figure it out, really,” she said. “Not if you think about it for a little bit. Anything goes wrong anywhere near the man, and about ten vigilantes spring into action.”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Tim said, dryly, still a little disappointed that she had pulled out of the hug. Being near a soulmate had been described to him many times, but it wasn’t until now that he really understood. “I figured it out when I was five.”

“Oh man, he’s got like 15 years on you. Feel smart now, miss ‘Top University Student’?” Jason teased, and she was looking at him like she was trying to figure out who he was. Tim realized that he hadn’t taken off the helmet yet. That was going to be a fun one to explain. After a second she seemed to give up.

“Oh, the shame. Now I know that I must take up a life of crime and be forever locked in a battle of wits with Timothy Drake to prove who is superior,” she said dramatically. There was a second of silence where everyone just stared at her warily. She looked around and then just groaned. “That was supposed to be a ridiculous joke.”

“I’ve seen weirder things happen, it’s Gotham,” Dick said, nonchalantly.

“Same.”

“Same.”

“Same.” They all agreed.

She shook her head in disbelief. “Your guy’s lives are crazy.”

They all just shrugged.

“So, babybird has a soulmate now? How exciting! Welcome to the family, kid!” Dick said fondly and ruffled her hair. She threw a confused look at Tim and he just looked helplessly back. There really was no changing Dick.

“Speaking of soulbonds, how the hell do you survive on this idiot's sleep schedule?” Jason asked curiously. Somewhere in the conversation he had lit a cigarette.

“With lots of coffee,” she answered. “Though I suppose that as excuses for nearly driving your soulmate insane go, being one of the ‘Saviors of the City’ isn’t terrible.” She shot Tim a look that clearly said that that wasn’t a good excuse, either. He swallowed guiltily.

“Let’s go back to the manor. Get some rest. Oh! You have to meet B. I’m sure he’ll love you,” Dick chattered and they all went toward their different vehicles. Tim grabbed her hand to let her know that she was with him. She still seemed really overwhelmed by everything and he couldn’t blame her. She had, within the span of one night, found her soulmate, been kidnapped and held for ransom, been saved by vigilantes, and learned all of their secret identities. He thought she was taking it rather well, all things considered.

---

“And here’s the upstairs guest bedroom that you can use,” Tim said, opening the door to a room basically as big as your entire apartment. You had only gotten the brief tour of the manor from Tim, but every room had taken your breath away. You didn’t feel like you belonged at all here, so you’d kept a tight grip on Tim, reminding you of why you were here at all. He didn’t seem to mind. Dick had somehow convinced you to stay until the next night at least. You made a mental note to be careful around that one or else you’d be swept into his current. “There’s a shower and I can lend you some clothes… if you want.” You didn’t even need to look at him to know that he was turning red.

“Maybe in a bit.” You yawned. “I’m actually thinking that a nap sounds really good right now. A night of getting kidnapped can really tire a girl out.” You sat down on the bed.

“Right. Sure. Of course,” Tim said, then turned to leave, but caught himself and turned back, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, you need me to also…” You honestly found it adorable how awkward the billionaire vigilante was being around you now.

You grabbed his hand again and pulled him down onto the bed with you over the covers and then scooted over so that the two of you could lie face to face. He seemed to be drinking in every detail of you with his eyes and you smiled softly at him. You could no doubt also feel the invisible draw to your soulmate that had been described to you. You wanted to bury yourself into him and never let go. There were a few things that you needed to talk about first, though. Or you would if your eyes weren’t already drifting closed.

“We really need to talk about how often a person needs to sleep,” you murmur softly. He gives you the most adorable guilty look.

“Yeah, I actually get that a lot,” he says quietly, and you just close your eyes and chuckle.

“I’m sure you do.”

“Listen I’m sorry. If I’d have known—“

You cut him off with a frown, opening your eyes a fraction to get a look at him. “Don’t lie,” you whispered and he somehow managed to look even guiltier than before. “I get it now. All the odd hours and the late nights come with what you do. And what you do is important, it’s just that,” you bit your lip but continued on, “I was so angry with you. I couldn’t think of a possible explanation for what you were doing to me and now I can’t be angry anymore. Now I’m just... worried.” You decided that you could blame the extra sappy honesty on the fact that you could barely keep your eyes open.

He reached a lazy hand out to trace his fingers lightly down the side of your face. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can think of a couple good reasons to come back and get some sleep now.”

Your resulting smile was swallowed up by the light touch of his lips to yours and it felt like electricity was going through you all the way down to your toes. You leaned into the kiss and he threaded his fingers into your hair, tilting your head slightly back so that he had better access. He moved to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away and then snuggled your face into his neck.

“Nap first,” you murmured and he just chuckled and wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in closer. The arm cast was a little uncomfortable, but you could forgive him for that since that ended up being the best four hours of sleep that you ever got in your entire life.

Three Years Later

You padded down the hall in nothing but one of Tim’s old t-shirts, some light sleeping shorts, and murder in your eyes. You passed Jason as he was pouring himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen. He looked up and saw you and let out a low whistle, looking you up and down.

“Don’t give me that, Todd. Where is he?” You snapped and he put up his hands in surrender.

“I don’t know, I swear. Check the cave.” You continued walking without another word. “Wouldn’t want to be him right now,” you could hear Jason mutter as you left the room.

You went straight to the nearest cave entrance and shivered as you descended the steps. Summer or not it was always eerily cold in the bat cave. Bruce probably made sure of that.

Sure enough, you found Tim sitting in front of one of the computers, still in full uniform, looking at about 10 screens at once and typing at full speed. He was so focused that you got right up behind him without him even noticing, though Dick, who was packing up the last of his gear, gave you a wary look. You crossed your arms and loudly cleared your throat.

Tim startled and turned the chair to look at you. “Oh, um, hi Y/N. I, um, didn’t hear you come in.”

“Get your ass out of that chair and go to bed with me, now Drake,” you commanded and he flinched.

“Now‘s not really a good time. Riddler is out again on a murder spree and I know I can figure it out if I just—“

“And there’s going to be another murder right now if you don’t come with me. I have my thesis defense in the morning and you’ve been promising me that I could get some sleep for three days.” There really must’ve been a scary look on your face, since Tim looked absolutely terrified.

“But babe—“

“Babybird, when a beautiful woman wants to take you to bed you really shouldn’t keep her waiting,” Dick cut in with a wink. When Tim still didn’t look convinced, he sighed and continued, “I’ll take lead on this Riddler thing.”

“Thank you, Dick,” you said, keeping your focus on Tim.

Tim was looking between the two of you helplessly as you ganged up on him. He realized that there was no winning right now and slowly stood up and stretched. You didn’t have time for this bullshit and grabbed him by the arm mid-stretch, yanking him away from the computer before he had a chance to come up with another reason to stay.

“The answer to the first one is candles. And I’ve already looked into the zoo, it’s clean. And don’t fall for the obvious trap with the coloring books,” he called at Dick as he let you drag him away. You heard Dick chuckle as you closed the door to the cave.

“Get some, Red,” Jason called after you as you passed him in the hallway on the way to your room.

“Fuck off, Jason,” you both called at the same time in the same exhausted tone.

When you got to your room Tim began the long process of stripping off his uniform, his fingers fumbling as he finally realized how tired he really was. You eventually took pity on him and helped. He collapsed onto the bed with a groan when you were finally done, then cracked an eye open after a second when you didn’t join.

“Coming?” He asked. Your lips turned up in a mischievous smile as you pulled off your t-shirt, swung your legs over him, and placed your hands on either side of his head. His hands jumped to your hips in surprise and you lowered yourself so that your bodies were pressing together, your lips just barely brushing.

“It’s my turn to keep you up. And give you a thorough reminder of why you should come here more often.”

He swallowed audibly. This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

Of all of the places that you could be right now, you find yourself in Arkham. Arkham. Literally no one in their right mind wanted to be in The Elisabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane under any circumstances. You guess that was the point. To make everything worse, once you found the right spot to deliver the papers that you were tasked with, you had been so relieved that you had relaxed and took a wrong turn on the way out. Now you weren’t just walking through one of the worst places in the world, you were lost in it.

“Sure, send the intern on the insane delivery. She’s not doing anything else. She’ll be fine, what could happen,” you muttered to yourself, trying to find out where you’d gone wrong and retrace your steps. All you needed to do was find a door that led outside so that you could get your bearings again. You reassured yourself with the thought that all of the cells you were passing were clearly empty. Any inmates here would be under heavy guard and you hadn’t seen anyone in the longest time.

That didn’t make it any less creepy, though.

With each passing moment you became more and more panicked when you didn’t see an obvious way out, just rows and rows of doors with bars on them. You finally just said screw it and started running, dignity be damned. You turned a sharp corner and you saw it. At the end of the hallway was a different sort of door. One that looked like it led to a lobby, which probably led to a way out. You breathed in relief, but something else stopped you in your tracks. At the end of the hallway there was one cell door that was slightly open. You stared at it warily. Of all the doors that you’d seen just now (which was really a lot), all of them had been shut and locked up tight. You got a strange feeling of dread looking at the slightly ajar door, but unless you wanted to spend another fifteen minutes wandering around this place, that was the way you needed to go.

You began to walk again slowly, breathing slightly uneven from the sprint that you had just completed and kept your eyes forward, focused on escape. Curiosity prickled the back of your thoughts as you neared the open cell, but you told yourself firmly that that was a bad idea. Unfortunately the universe had other ideas for you.

As you were passing the ominous cell in question, you heard something. Just a small sound, but the last twenty minutes had been complete silence, save for the buzz of old lights and your footsteps, so the sound might as well have been an alarm going off. It was a sharp sound, muffled, but distinct. You stopped. The need to look over and confirm what it was was all consuming. It had to be nothing, just an old building settling, nothing more. Right?

With a deep breath, you turned your head over to peer inside the offending cell, expecting the worst. At first glance the cell looked like nothing out of the ordinary. Just a bed and a toilet and a desk, all white, and all surgically clean. The one thing that stood out in the cell was the floor. A large chunk of the white tile had been cut out and leaned against the wall, leaving a gaping black hole. The sound had come from in there. There were more sounds too, now that you were closer. It sounded like… sobbing.

On a terrible whim, you crept closer to the door, trying to confirm what you saw and heard, as if when you got closer you’d realize that it was all just a trick of the light. The sobbing sound got faintly louder. It wasn’t until you had your head sticking through the door of the cell that you realized what a bad idea this all was and snapped yourself back to reality. There was someone down there. And they didn’t seem like they were having very much fun. You needed to get the fuck out of here and call the police. You had no illusions that you were the hero to go investigate and save the day.

You pulled your head back, and almost screamed as another sound joined the otherwise nothingness. The sound of a door opening. Your head snapped to the right, but the door next to you remained undisturbed. The sound had come from that way, though, you were sure of it. Someone was in the lobby beyond that door. You heard distinctive footfalls coming from the other side to confirm your theory. They sounded like they were getting louder. Your brain went into fight or flight mode as you considered your options. This side of Arkham was obviously abandoned, no medical staff would have come through this way. It could also be someone lost, like you, though that was taking a big fucking chance considering that this was the one spot where there was activity. You could turn and run back the way that you had come from, but there was a long way to go before you could turn, they would surely spot you if they came this way. You could duck into the open cell and wait for them to pass by? But also, it was more than likely that the open cell was where they were headed anyway since it was the only thing that looked like it had been distrubed in years. Every option you had seemed bad.

You turned and looked at the hole in the ground. When you focused you could see that it led down some rough stone steps, but the blackness quickly swallowed anything else. The sobbing was muffled and it seemed far away. Meaning that whatever was down there was big. Maybe big enough for you to find a spot to hide. It seemed like the best option so far. If the person was just an innocent pedestrian, they’d walk right by you or call the police themselves. If not, you were probably going into that hole anyway. At least you had a chance this way. You made your decision and stopped wasting time, sneaking into the room and tiptoeing down the steps into the blackness. You daren’t pull out your phone flashlight in fear that it would alert whoever was down there, so you ran your hand along the wall to steady yourself as you lost sight. The sounds of sobbing got louder. As you descended it got bone-chillingly cold. A dripping sound around you told you that you were in something like a cave?

When your eyes adjusted from the harsh lighting of the asylum, you saw that there was a faint yellow light coming from the bottom. The stairs led directly to a doorway, which was also left open. You could see that the light was provided by a single overhead lamp that pointed straight down. There were several masses that you couldn’t quite make out laying in the spotlight.

The smell seemed to hit you all at once as you got closer. Or maybe you had just been too panicked to notice until then, but it was so bad that you weren’t sure that was even possible. It was the smell of feces and unwashed bodies and rotting food, but above all there was the smell of blood, thick and irony and overwhelming. You thought you’d gotten a strong stomach from working in the medical field, but nothing could compare to this. The blood smelled weeks old, but also… fresh? Your feet were itching to turn back, to get away from this horrid place. All your senses were screaming at you that the place in front of you was death, but there was really no turning back. Especially when you heard the echo of voices coming from where you entered. You were too far down the winding staircase for them to see you, but they were effectively cutting off your escape that way. Only one way to go now.

As you got closer, you could make out the objects lying in the light. It was three people. The sobbing was coming from the one furthest in the room. The other two were completely still. It took your panicked brain longer than it should have to take in more details, but when you did you realized what they were wearing. The sobbing one was wearing a bright red tunic with a stylized letter ‘R’ on it, the other two were wearing Batman costumes. They were also dead.

You covered your mouth to stifle your scream of horror when you saw the pools of fresh blood around the men. One of them was turned toward you and stared with sightless eyes and a trail of blood coming out of a hole on his forehead. You stumbled forward, falling to your knees and retching until you were sure that everything previously in your stomach was on the cave floor.

When you could look up, you saw the third occupant of the room looking at you. His eyes were wide in fear as tears streamed out of them. In short, he looked like hell. Completely malnourished and filthy. Every inch of showing skin was covered in bruises, cuts, scars, or burns. Sometimes all four. His face was the exception, swollen from hits, but the only permanent mark on it was a perfectly branded ‘J’ on his left cheek that looked like it had either been reopened recently, or was still healing. As you crawled closer, you saw that his eyes were so dilated that you could barely tell what color they were. He was obviously on something, but it didn’t seem to be anything that you had seen before. He looked like he was terrified of you. Fear gas maybe? But that usually made people violent, which he wasn’t currently showing, though the two dead guys in front of him might disagree.

“What happened to you?” you whispered in horror, mostly to yourself as you approached him. He looked so miserable that your first and strongest instinct was to comfort him. He shied away slightly from you as you reached out, not even fully aware of what you were doing. You felt the tips of your fingers just barely brush his cheek over the brand as you said, “Shhhhh it’s gonna be okay.”

Instantly, you felt your hand heat up and begin to tingle. You almost pulled your hand away then, but he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes like it was the best thing he’d ever felt. You just stared at him in shock for a moment, brain trying to catch up with what was happening when you heard a voice, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” the voice was singsong, too high pitched, and sounded like it was holding back laughter. Dread washed over you like a trickle of ice-cold water. You turned around to see the unmistakable form of the Joker descend the last couple of steps and lean against the door frame. Harley Quinn was just a couple of steps behind him.

“What is it Mr. J?” she asked, her voice as grating as it was on TV.

“Looks like our little birdy found another playmate. What? Two wasn’t enough? Such an appetite,” Joker said, then laughed. There was nothing sane about that laugh. You’d never heard that in person before and you immediately wanted to cover your ears. Just listening to it made you feel like you were losing your mind. You couldn’t even look at him and instead looked at the ground in front of you. Something shiny caught your eye.

“Ooohhh, you sure can pick ‘em, kid. Such a pretty little plaything. What sort of fun shall we all have together, huh?”

“Stay back!” you yelled, snatching the gun off the ground and pointing it directly at the Joker. The gun shook with your hand. It was obviously the one that had just killed the other two men in the room; it was still warm. The Joker started walking toward you slowly, hands up, his lips still upturned, letting out little giggles.

“Now, now, dearie, let’s not do anything that we’re gonna--”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The kickback of the gun was surprising, but not totally unexpected. It wasn’t the first time that you had fired one, you lived in Gotham, but it was the first time that you had ever actually shot at someone. For a split second you were terrified that all three shots had missed, but that fear was short lived as the Joker immediately collapsed. An inhuman sound came out of Harley Quinn as she rushed over to the Jokers side and knelt. She kept wailing, the high pitched sound pierced your already ringing ears from the shots.

Your brain felt like it was becoming mush as you continued to panic and you realized after a second that you were hyperventilating. You felt adrenaline coarse through your limbs, and your instincts took over. You looked over at the man next to you, who was still just watching the exchange with wide unfocused eyes. You fumbled with the gun until it was in your left hand and you saw something on your hand. Was that blood? You didn’t think that you were bleeding. You brought your hand closer to your face and saw that it wasn’t anything on your hand, it simply looked like your fingers had been dyed crimson red. You blinked a few times, sure that you were seeing things, but then another wail from the room reminded you that you had bigger problems to deal with.

“Common, get up,” you muttered to him and grabbed the man under the shoulder to try and hoist him to his feet. You were sure that there was really no way that you were carrying him, as big as he was, malnourished or not. He needed to help you.

Thankfully, he took to your command like he was in a trance, letting you drag him to his feet, but you were still uncomfortably holding most of his weight. You staggered under him, but managed to stay on your feet and begin to lug him over to the door. He looked like he was trying his best to keep up, but with his injuries you were just surprised that he was awake. Getting up those stairs was going to be a challenge like this. As it was, to get out you still had to pass Harley.

“You no good, murderous, BITCH!” she yelled, looking up as you passed. “I swear I’m gonna--”

You pointed the gun at her face, which shut her up pretty quick. The glare that she was giving you was no joke, though. You urged the man in your arm to go faster. When you got him through the door you kicked it shut, if only to get away from Harley’s stare. When it was closed, you noticed that there was a padlock on the outside. You had no doubt that it was there to keep their captive in. You quickly leaned Robin against the wall to free your hand (since there was no way you were dropping the gun) and fumbled the lock into a closed position. You could hear Harley screaming and banging at the door just as you’d finished.

Thankfully Robin hadn’t fallen and you went back to him, swinging his arm around your shoulder again and urging him up the first step. He understandably didn’t seem too sure on his feet, but your adrenaline was telling you that you needed to get out of there fast. Now that you didn’t have to point the gun, you swung your arm out and wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders and held tight. This way you could take more of his vertical weight and basically drag him up the stairs on your back. It was awkward and slow, but you were making good headway when the first shot came. It pierced through the wooden door, sending splinters flying, but you didn’t feel any impact so you kept going. The shots kept coming, loud and terrifying, but you had already cleared the height of the door and were making the first turn in the staircase. You prayed to anyone that would listen that the door would hold and you wouldn’t have to deal with a pissed off clown lady with a gun. You kept going.

It felt like forever until you reached the top of the stairs, expecting the whole time to hear Harley’s, or even the Joker’s voice pop up right behind you. Instead all you heard were the low grunts of effort that the man on your back was making as he suffered from his many injuries. You held up a hand to shield your eyes from the harsh light, but everything looked like it had when you were last here. As you exited the cell you slammed that door shut too, not knowing whether it would do any good or not. The door that you were originally going for did turn out to go to a lobby. You could almost cry when you saw daylight coming from the windows, even if it was just customary Gotham rain. You might have actually cried, you were still too disoriented and high on adrenaline to notice either way. With a new strength you continued to haul your friend out the door and into the fresh air.

“Hhhmmppphhfff,” he made a sound, and you turned your head to look at him in alarm. He had his head up toward the rain, taking deep shaky breaths. As the clean water left tracks on his dirty, bloody face, you wondered just how long it had been since he had been outside of that hell.

“Don’t quit on me now,” you whispered to him, glancing back to the door, still terrified that you were going to be followed any second. Then you focused on in front of you, trying to figure out where to go next. Like you had guessed before, once you were outside it was pretty easy to get your bearings. You spotted the large foreboding gates of Arkham in the distance. You just needed to get over there. There were people over there, guards that could help you. You started dragging him towards the sounds of activity, when for the first time you felt resistance. You again stared back at him and he had planted his feet, not letting either of you move the way you wanted.

“What?” you hissed, still not sure why you were whispering to him. Probably just the imminent threat of getting caught. His eyes looked clearer than they had when you were down there. It seemed that the rain and the fresh air were clearing his head a little. He used his free arm to press his hand against his chest. You directed your attention toward it and when his hand left, you saw the glaringly obvious Robin symbol slapped across his left pec. He had to be kidding.

“Help is that way,” you urged, tugging again, but he didn’t budge. Was he seriously trying to say that he was the real Robin? He had obviously been in that pit for months and Batman and Robin had been all over the news in that time. But wait, wasn’t there a different Robin that had come before the current one? You struggled to remember. Yeah. He’d been rumored to disappear. Right after Batman had had a big confrontation with the… Joker. “Okay, fine, be that way, but we have to keep moving,” you insisted. There wasn’t a lot of time to think about this, or even confirm it. You grabbed at his ruined shirt and tugged up, but nothing really budged. You suspected that there was a series of complicated latches in the uniform that you would have to undo first. You really didn’t have the time for this. “Help me with this.”

“Stop.” At first you weren’t sure that the sound had come from him, it was so gravelly and broken and barely even sounded like a word. Then he lifted the arm and pointed. You followed the line to see a hole in the otherwise immaculate fence. Now that you were thinking about it, it was probably how Joker and Harley had gotten in in the first place; it would let them bypass the security in the front.

Mostly because you were still terrified of being followed and it looked like it was the only direction that he would go, you gave in and started the long process of crossing the lawn to get to the indicated hole. He was gradually taking more of his weight so you made good time. Every so often you were glancing behind you again to check for pursuit. You had no doubt that Harley would find a way out eventually. You hoped it was later rather than sooner.

You made it to the hole and it was only big enough to squeeze through one at a time. You shoved him in first, hoping that he wouldn’t just fall down without you supporting him. He made it through and turned to lean against the other side of the wall while he waited for you to get back. Outside the wall there were trees. They were all creepy and dead, but they gave you some sort of cover, even in the daylight. You could just barely see the parking lot where your car was through the trees. Getting him through this uneven ground without tripping was going to be tough.

“My car is over there,” you pointed. His head turned in the direction, but he still said nothing, his breathing ragged. You worried that he had broken ribs. If his lung collapsed there was precious little that you could do without any supplies. Not to mention every single other injury that was covering his body. You had noticed that the spots on you where you had been carrying him were slicked with his blood. He needed to get to a hospital. Now. There was no time to wait for an ambulance. Without asking, you wrapped yourself around him again and kept going forward. He accepted it with no comment.

It was impressive that the two of you didn’t fall. The dead roots of the trees were poking out everywhere, making it a tricky hike even if you were two functioning people and not one three-legged disaster. You did stumble hard about three times, but steadied yourself before you could tumble. You made it to the edge of the woods and peered out. It was the middle of the day. What few cars there were were abandoned. There were not many people that visited Arkham. You dragged Robin into the open, thankful that your car was parked on this side of the lot by chance.

As you got close you were going to shove your hands in your pocket to grab the keys, but you realized that there was already something in your hand. You looked down to see the gun clutched in your fingers. You had forgotten that you were carrying it the whole way. You were shaking as you realized that your hand was not obeying your brain to let it go. You reached the car and disentangled yourself from Robin, now using your free hand to pry your fingers open and release the gun. It fell to the ground in front of your car and you immediately kicked it into the bush not too far from you. With that out of the way, you shoved your hands in your pockets, quickly retrieving your keys and unlocking the doors. You guided Robin over to the back and let him lay across the back seats. There was going to be a lot of blood in your car before this was over.

“Alright, let’s get you to a hospital,” you said, trying to psych yourself up. You could feel some of the adrenaline wearing off and you realized how tired you were from basically carrying him all this way.

“No hospital.” The ragged, barely intelligible voice came again. You frowned.

“You need to get to a hospital,” you insisted. “Look, you can help me strip you and then no one will find out your big secret. I’ll tell them whatever you want, but without medical attention you could die.”

“No,” you heard him rasp again. He reached out and grabbed you, his hand encircling your wrist. It honestly surprised you how firm his grip was. Strong enough to leave bruises. “No,” he repeated. You looked at him in the eyes and all you saw was pain and fear and desperation. This man really didn’t want to go to a hospital. He seemed to be looking at you expecting an answer. His grip didn’t loosen a fraction until you sighed and said, “Fine.”

You climbed into the driver’s seat and put your hands on the wheel. Realizing how badly you were shaking, you paused and took a few deep breaths. It wouldn’t be good for anyone if you were so freaked out that you crashed your car on the way. You were considering just taking him to a hospital anyway, but if this really was the missing Robin, then maybe there was a good reason for that. Maybe he had somewhere else in mind to go. Some sort of secret vigilante hospital. They had to have one, right? You turned around to ask him where he wanted you to drive him, but you found him passed the fuck out, bleeding all over your back seat. After a moment’s indecision, you started the car. You had some supplies at your apartment from med school practice. It wasn’t nearly enough, but you could stabilize him enough to keep him alive. Hopefully.

You pulled into your spot and were, for the first time in your life, thankful that you had a floor-level apartment when you unlocked the door and threw it open, going back you realized that you'd have to drag him out of the car manually. He was still passed out as you tried to drag him toward you as gently as possible, which really wasn’t much because damn the man was heavy. He wasn’t even that big, meaning that all of his weight came from the remaining muscle in his body. You had manipulated his legs out the door and were just trying to figure out how the hell you were going to carry him when he stirred.

“Oh thank God,” you said, cupping his face in your hands. “You gotta help me get you up. We’re almost there.”

“Where?” he asked, voice still slurred, but getting stronger whenever he used it.

“My apartment. I’ll patch you up and you can rest for a little. Then we’ll go from there,” you said gently. He started shifting and you helped get him up and standing again. This time he was putting even more of his weight on you. Almost all of it, but you somehow managed to make it up the short walkway and into the door. Once in, you made a beeline through your messy apartment over to your bedroom and helped him lie on the bed. He groaned and his eyes rolled back into his head as he passed out again. The doctor-to-be in you took over.

Your scissors failed to cut whatever material his uniform was made of, making the rips and tears all over it even more concerning. You fumbled with it until you found some releasing clasps and proceeded in the long task of getting him out of that thing. Once you could actually see everything you realized that he was in worse shape than you thought. The main thing that required your attention is what explained the entire trail of blood that now led from your car to your apartment. You ran and grabbed your medical bag, all your towels, and a couple of big bottles of water. There was a stab wound in this stomach. It didn’t look like it had hit anything vital, but it was impossible to tell without x-rays and proper equipment. But he had survived it this long. That counted for something. After what seemed like forever you got the bleeding stopped and then started rinsing and cleaning it for stitching. It was a pretty easy fix, thinking about it. You realized that that was probably the best kind of wound for torture. You moved on.

It took just about every single thing that you had been learning about in medical school and literally all of the supplies that you owned, but you went over him head to toe and treated everything. You cleaned cuts and burns, set bones, gave more stitches, and even had to pop his dislocated shoulder back in place. There wasn’t much that you could do about the broken ribs from here. When you were finally done checking him over a third time, you filled a bucket with water and were just determined to get all of the grime off of his skin. He hadn’t woken up the whole time you were working, and that was definitely not a good sign. He had been on some sort of drug, you remembered, and that was a whole different thing that you certainly could not treat from here. You just had to pray that it wasn’t lethal. The last thing you needed was to have a dead man in your apartment. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was constant throughout, though, and you were grateful for it.

When you got to rinsing his face, you had already changed the filthy water out three times. You tried to be as careful as possible when you ran the cloth over his broken nose and split lip, but when you got to his cheek, there was a spot of blood that just refused to come off, right over the brand in his skin. You rubbed at it, but didn’t want to hurt the already tender healing flesh. There was something familiar about it. You turned your hand over. It was supposed to be clean from all of the washing that you had been doing, but when you looked at your left fingertips they were as blood red as the spot on his face. Realization slowly dawned on you.

They say that everyone on Earth has a soulmate, but with so many options to choose from, barely anyone actually meets them. Legends of soulmates were always amazing, but that was back when there were like 100 people on the planet. Now the odds of finding your perfect match were about one in 7 billion. But there it was, right on your skin just like they always said. The first place you touch your soulmate is forever marked with the seal of your bond.

And you had to go and touch him on the face.

You swept your hand through your hair and just took in the implications of what this meant. This was your perfect match. The few people that did find their soulmates always, always, ended up with them. And yours was laying here passed out in front of you after just being tortured for God knows how long by the Joker. You tried to assess exactly how you felt, but at the moment all you felt was drained. The adrenaline was officially worn off and you felt like you didn’t have enough energy to breath, let alone feel. It took everything you had left in you to awkwardly dress the man in some leftover clothes from a past relationship, get him under the covers so that you could pull the bloody comforter off to wash, and roll your soulmate onto his side (in case of overdose) before leaving and collapsing onto your couch. You’d figure out what was happening after a short nap. If he was still alive.

---

Jason groaned, refusing to open his eyes. He was dreaming of a warm, dry, safe space. Something so rare that he wasn’t ready to wake up and face another day of the horrors that had become his life. This was nice, at least. Even if he still hurt like hell.

Wait. He wasn’t dreaming. He could feel it now as he slowly became more aware of himself. He was lying down on something soft and warm. Something that smelled clean.

With a start, he yelped and sat up straight. His hands were unbound, he used them to prop himself up when all of his other muscles failed him. His chest heaved in breaths through his familiar broken ribs as his sight slowly adjusted to the light. This wasn’t his home. It wasn’t anything like his home. Where the fuck was he?

He started to turn to get off the bed and figure out where he was, when he felt a pulling sensation in his stomach. He looked down at himself and lifted his shirt to see a large gauze pad stuck to his stomach. Wait, his shirt? He was dressed in unfamiliar clothing. A t-shirt and a pair of sweats. Someone had changed him. If that wasn’t concerning enough, someone had clearly wiped all of the dirt and the blood he’d accumulated after all this time away, letting him fully see just how badly his body had been damaged since… he didn’t even know.

This was bad. This was bad. This was bad. This was different and uncomfortable and therefore bad. With the Joker he had come to rely on certain things. Gotten to know how he thought, how he tortured. Any deviation from the norm was just a new, more painful way to break him. He looked around wildly for any sign of the Joker. Whatever he did to deserve this he was sorry, he had to let them know that. He had to go back to his room and beg forgiveness before they could bring down something worse on him. He had to get up.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and basically threw himself out of it. His body wasn’t ready for that at all and he found himself collapsing. His unbound hands instinctively reached out to try and catch himself. He awkwardly found a table next to the bed, but with his full weight coming down on it, the table tipped, throwing a lamp off of it with a loud crash as he and it met the floor violently. He lay still for a moment on the carpet. Commanding his stubborn limbs to move. Maybe the Joker had given him another paralytic. He heard the sound of the door opening.

“Shit.” The voice wasn’t Joker’s and it wasn’t Harley’s. He thought that it seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place it. The owner of the voice wasted no time in revealing herself though, as he saw a woman kneel beside him the next second. Again, he was struck with the thought that he had seen her somewhere before, but maybe he was just finally going crazy. Was she even real?

“What the fuck are you doing? Get back in bed before you break something else,” she demanded, then grabbed his arm like she was going to single-handedly pick him up. His heart rate spiked at the touch. Bad. Bad bad bad bad. She was real. Not only that, she had taken him from his familiar spot and she was touching him. This had to be another test. Another game that the Joker had come up with. Failure meant pain. Success meant another test. He couldn’t fail. Especially when this was the most elaborate prank that the Joker had pulled on him to date. Think think think. What was he being tested on? What was he supposed to do?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked down at him when she apparently couldn’t lift him (no surprise there). He made the mistake of looking up at her again. The concern in her eyes hit him like a blow to the face. He had to think for a moment to remember exactly what that expression meant.

“Who are you? Where am I?” he asked to distract himself, resolving not to look at her face again. Ever. His voice was gravelly and cracked and didn’t sound like him at all. Not that he remembered what he had sounded like before, but he knew that this wasn’t it.

“Hey, calm down. Remember. I’m Y/N. I got you out of Arkham. You’re in my apartment. Breathe, you’re safe here,” she said, her voice filled his ears like honey. So unlike all of the taunting and hate that had plagued him day after day in hell. She rested a hand on his forearm. He winced, expecting the pain, but there was no sharp squeeze or the bite of a knife. The touch was almost… gentle.

“You have to help me get you back into the bed. You shouldn’t be moving. You also need water and food. And blood, actually, but I don’t have any stored in my refrigerator at the moment,” she said dryly. Then she tugged on his arm gently again and he understood.

The game. The Joker had changed up the rooms, brought in a new face to think that he had escaped. This was a loyalty test. He couldn’t fail. With all the strength he could muster, he grabbed the arm touching him and flipped the girl onto the floor, rolling on top of her. It was remarkably easy, she couldn’t put up any kind of fight at all. That just made her more suspicious. He wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed. Her hands immediately jumped up to close around his wrists, but he could hardly feel it for all the strength she had.

You always loved these little games that we play, didn’t you birdy? Well I’ve got a good one here for you now.

“What kind of game are you playing!? Take me back!” he shouted, his voice cracking several times from all of the screaming that he’d been doing lately, but he hardly cared. She looked like she was trying to answer, but the question hadn’t been directed at her. He was looking wildly around the room now, certain that the Joker was somewhere, watching. And wasn’t he being good?

He could feel her struggling weakly under him as she tried and failed to draw breath, but he couldn’t care less. One of her hands left his wrist and reached up to his face. Now he looked down at her. Her mouth was open, making odd choking sounds as her face was slowly turning blue. He couldn’t look at her eyes. Her hand finally found purchase on his face as he looked down. He flinched when her fingertips brushed up against the brand on his face. Part of the game. He just had to ignore it. Ignore it.

But he couldn’t. There was a tingling all over his skin and heat radiating from the spot that he was touching. Not the bad, ‘brand you with a J’ kind of heat. More like the warmth of sunlight touching your skin. Or a loving kiss just brushing your cheek. He couldn’t help it, he looked down into her eyes.

He saw fear. Something he really wasn’t used to anymore. The Joker and Harley had made him plenty afraid, but they were never scared of him. This girl’s eyes were glistening with tears and she stared right into his. Maybe the last thing she would ever see. And she was afraid. Of him. He literally held her entire life in his hands. Was this what he looked like all those times that the Joker had choked him? Or stabbed him? Or waterboarded him?

Look me in the eyes, Robby! I don’t want to miss that sweet look of despair.

Those eyes. He couldn’t look away now that he was staring into them. They were slowly losing their light the longer he pressed on. He knew these eyes. Why couldn’t he remember? Remember remember remember re--

“Shhhh it’s gonna be okay.”

He took his hands off of her throat like they were burned. He jumped to his feet, ignoring the groan of his many injuries. He remembered her. She had shown up out of literally nowhere. He remembered her dragging him up a set of stairs, and through a forest, and into a car. Was this part of the game? Could the Joker have set this whole thing up?

He remembered three distinct fires of a gun. That girl had done it. She had fired a gun at--

No no no no. It had to be fake, it had to. No one had found him in so long, it was never going to happen. It was supposed to be Batman who would come and when he did Jason had--

NO!!

He watched as she coughed and choked below him, desperate to get some air back into her lungs. She had rolled over onto all fours and had one hand rubbing her throat. He needed to get out of here. He needed to think. He turned toward the door and took a step, but then faltered. Still a game? What if the test was to see whether he would escape or not. Harley could be waiting on the other side of that door with the taser ready to catch him when he left. His head swam with all of the different things that would happen when he failed this test and he burst into tears. How was he supposed to succeed when he didn’t even know what he needed to succeed at? It wasn’t fair. He retreated to a corner of the room and put his back to it. Sinking down into a sitting position and holding his head in his hands.
“No no no no no no no no no...”

He sat there for a long time, barely even registering when the woman got up and left the room in a hurry, closing the door behind him. When he could finally breathe again, he used the wall to push himself up and caught sight of himself in a mirror on the dresser. He warily stepped over to the glass. The Joker had always had a fondness for mirrors when he had been torturing Jason. He liked to show Jason the brand on his face, show him how completely he belonged to him. Maybe this was part of the test?

His reflection was the same stranger that had come to be familiar. All sunken, dead eyes and gaunt cheeks. The usual swelling and bruising had gone down from hours of no abuse, and his nose had been set, but most everything was still some sort of shade of purple. There was blood covering his brand. If this was part of the game, then Joker wouldn’t be happy that it was covered up. Jason angrily swiped at the blood, then harder when it didn’t show any signs of coming off. He got closer to the mirror and furiously rubbed at his cheek, making his face and the brand burn like he was getting it all over again, but still nothing happened. Why was it covered? Why couldn’t he get it off. He needed to get it off, dammit, or something terrible was going to happen.

With an angry yell, he threw his fist into the mirror in frustration. It shattered on impact, digging into his knuckles so that blood ran down his hand. He didn’t care.

If this wasn’t the test, then something else had to be. There had to be something around here that would tell him what to do, Joker wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety. He started ripping the drawers out of the dresser and tearing apart the contents. When that proved to be fruitless he moved to the nightstand, then the window, then the attached bathroom. There had to be something. Something. A playing card or a batarang or SOMETHING that would give him a hint as to what he was doing here. Find it. Find it find it find it find it.

---

After you could regain your breath, you left the room, collapsing just outside the door with tears running down your face at how much that had hurt. But more than that, it had been terrifying. Trying to draw a breath and not being able to set off every panic alarm that your body had. Your vision had been blacking out when he had suddenly let go, and it was just now clearing up again as you sucked in more and more air.

What now? You had saved his life and brought him here, only for him to almost kill you? Your soulmate. Ironically you had escaped more unscatched when confronting the Joker than him. You thought that dryly as you picked yourself up again and went to the kitchen, fishing out a glass of water, some aspirin, and an ice pack. Your neck was sure to have some ugly bruises and swelling. You couldn’t forget the feeling of his hands wrapped around your neck like that. You had struggled with everything that you’d had and it had seemed like he hadn’t even noticed.

A little voice inside your head was screaming to get out of the apartment. Leave and go somewhere else where there wasn’t a dangerous, half-deranged former vigilante. Another voice, smaller, but insistent, was telling you that this man had just woken up from months of torture in an unfamilliar place with a stange person. It was plausible that the drugs he had been on had caused his memories of the escape to be fuzzy. It was probable that under torture that intense he had lost his mind.

But he had had the presence of mind yesterday to let you help him out and especially to keep his identity a secret. Did a crazy man think that far ahead? Psychology wasn’t your area of expertise, but you really didn’t have it in you to blame him if he had thrown away a few marbles to survive that experience. You have no doubt that you would have.

That still left the question of what to do now, though. You wondered if this was actually Robin. In that case, maybe getting him to Batman somehow should be the next course of action? Of course, it could just be some sick role playing thing that the Joker had been cooking up, but while he had been sleeping you had been looking online at what the theories had been for the second Robin (since there were really no official sources when it came to vigilanties) and how and when he had disappeared. It had been about nine months ago. In Arkham. With the Joker. That seemed to line up as much as you could figure. It probably wouldn’t be a terrible idea to contact the Bat, just in case. But how?

That’s about when you heard the first crash. There was a loud thud, and the sound of some glass breaking, followed by the sounds of someone completely tearing up everything they could get their hands on and frustrated yells. Your heartbeat sped up again, expecting him to burst through the door and finish what he had started while you stood there and deliberated like an idiot. Looking around you, you grabbed the first thing that you could find, which happened to be a rather large kitchen knife, and held it like it would do any good against someone like him. You started taking slow steps toward the front door, intending to get out while you could, but you never heard the frantic footsteps approach the bedroom door. It seemed like he was going to stay put for now.

What were you even doing? This guy was supposed to be your soulmate. The most perfect person in the world for you. Someone so compatible that to date you have never heard of a single case where soulmates had found each other and failed to spend the rest of their lives together. You wondered if the same thing applied to a soulmate who had been driven insane. Does that still count? Were there some kind of rules that you could find that said whether this was still valid or not? He had just literally choked you to the point of almost passing out, that didn’t exactly scream ‘I love you’, but what if he hadn’t known? You hadn’t known until you’d really looked at both of the marks and figured it out. Would he suddenly decide that he didn’t want to kill you when he figured out what you were? He had seemed to stop choking you the moment that you had put your hand on his face, touching your soulmarks. Like a switch had been flicked on, you could see the spark of recognition that had jumped to life in his eyes when you had touched him. That counted for something, right?

You cursed, catching yourself frozen in your thoughts again, but the racket that he was making in your room hadn’t ceased yet so at least you knew where he was. Holding the knife close to you, you opened the door leading outside, but didn’t leave. You were still torn between wanting to help him, and being terrified of him. Long moments passed with no signs of stopping the ransacking of your room, but you just stayed there, frozen. The moment that you heard the doorknob turn you were going to split, but it never came. After what felt like forever, the crashes slowly stopped and silence filled the house once again.

With every single nerve in your body on edge, you crept up to the bedroom door as quietly as you could, not really sure what your plan was here, but insanely curious as to why he had stopped and what he was doing now. Maybe he had escaped through the window?

Your question was answered when you got right up to the door and pressed your ear to it, still holding the knife at the ready. He was still there. You could hear the sound of his breathing. Slow and even. Was he asleep? You wouldn’t be terribly surprised. Someone with wounds like that should probably be in a coma, not running around a room breaking everything in sight. Plus, you were sure that he hadn’t exactly been getting a regular amount of sleep recently.

In what was probably a bad idea, you turned the doorknob as silently as you could. The door made a bit of sound when it clicked open and you paused, but the breathing continued at a steady pace. You pushed the door open to see that the room looked like a tornado had recently gone through. Everything that was in there was strewn about on the floor or broken into. The pillows and mattress had been torn open, leaving stuffing scattered about, and the curtains had been torn down. The window and the door seemed like the only intact surfaces in the entire room. You quickly spotted Robin. He had pulled the one wooden chair that you were storing in the room into the corner where he had last been when you saw him, and was sitting in it fast asleep. You saw blood dripping down his bruised knuckles. He didn’t look remotely comfortable to you, but he was absolutely passed out with his head resting on his shoulder and his mouth open, snoring softly.

You crept into the room, not able to take your eyes off of him. His face was looking marginally better, still puffy and sunken, but there was some color coming back into it. Currently, it was scrunched up in something like a grimace as he dreamed, his eyes darting under his eyelids. Your eyes fixed on the soulmark and all at once you knew that you had to help him. You got the strongest feeling that you had been meant to find him. Now, you needed to save him from something else.

You turned around and went back into the kitchen, filling up a glass of water and grabbing a couple of pieces of bread from the pantry. He would need more food, but that was simple and something that he could hopefully keep down for now. You returned to the room and your heart was beating rapidly as you approached him, but he didn’t stir as you carefully placed the glass and the bread on the nightstand next to him. Then, feeling more certain that he was a heavy sleeper, you took a few minutes to clean out the bulk of the clutter on the floor. Finally, before you were set to leave, you grabbed a light throw blanket and very gently wrapped it around his shoulders. Your heart skipped a beat when he lightly stirred at that, but then he just continued to breathe and you let out the breath that you didn’t know you had been holding and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door mostly behind you, but leaving it a crack open.

You made your way back into the living room and sat on the couch, placing the forgotten knife on the table in front of you. Just in case. There was really nothing to do now except let him get some rest and wait for him to wake up. You turned on the TV and set it to the lowest volume, flicking through the channels until you found something sufficiently stupid that you could zone out to. After a while, your eyes started drifting closed.

---

Jason woke up confused again, but this time quickly remembered the room from last time. There was a strange pressure on him. He looked down to see that a blanket had been placed around his shoulders. This was… strange. He looked around further to see that some of the debris off the floor where he had left it. He stiffened, knowing that someone had been there when he was sleeping, but that wasn’t exactly a strange occurrence, though it usually ended with him waking up rudely to some form of pain or another. His eyes fell onto the nightstand next to him where there was a clean glass of water and two pieces of bread sitting on a napkin. He immediately jerked up and reached out for it, overshooting in his eagerness and nearly knocking the glass to the ground. He steadied it and looked down at his hands. They were still unbound. He really couldn’t remember when the last time he had been unbound for this long. Normally the Joker knew that he was a better fighter, and so kept him disadvantaged.

Gotta keep my little bird grounded. Wouldn’t want you to fly away from your loving Uncle Jay!

He didn’t puzzle over this for too long before grabbing the glass and chugging the contents down. It was more than likely that it was drugged, but he had stopped caring about that a long time ago if it meant that he got water. He finished it depressingly fast, even though it felt like he was just going to throw it right back up since it was the most water that he had been allowed in forever. He then grabbed the bread and scarfed that down too, ignoring the nausea that was already in his stomach. He felt fuller than he could remember and wondered why the Joker was allowing him this indulgence, but then his mind conjured up an image of a face. The girl’s face. He had seen her last time he had woken up. Suspiciously, like he expected to see her jump out of a dark corner, he glanced around the room.

Was it possible that the vague memories he had of her leading him out of the cell were true? His head had been spinning and his entire body had felt like it was floating. He had probably been drugged. Impossible to tell, then. The Joker particularly liked drugging him when he was away, giving him hallucinogens so that all sorts of monsters had come to attack him while he was alone. Mostly Batman. Always Batman.

With a clearer head than last time, he stood up and inspected the room again. It did indeed look like the room of a young woman. There was nothing there to suggest that the Joker had any influence on this room, he knew since he had checked. Thoroughly. He caught sight of his reflection again in the cracked, bloody mirror and really looked at it this time. His hand came up and he brushed the brand on his face with his fingertips. That had been where she had touched him. He distinctly remembered the feeling that he had when her hand had just barely grazed his face, even through all the fog and pain. The crimson mark was still covering the brand almost completely. An idea of what it was was forming in his mind, but he dismissed the idea promptly. Maybe this was what the Joker had wanted to test him on. Though he wasn’t sure how you could fake that. He wouldn’t put anything past that deranged clown.

He realized that he had been standing there for a while, motionless in front of the dresser. A quick look to his right showed that the door to the room remained cracked open. There were very faint sounds coming from the next room over. Taking a shaky breath, he walked over to it and grabbed the doorknob, his heartbeat jumping. Nothing happened, so he pulled the door open and was met with a little apartment. He could see straight into the kitchen, to his right was a small living room. That was where the sound was coming from. A TV turned on, low volume.

With all of his senses on high alert, he took a few steps out of the room, fully expecting something to crash into him or a high pitch laugh to assault his ears. When neither of those things happened, he continued. Once he had a clearer view of the living room he saw the form of someone lying on the couch. It was the girl. She was fast asleep, curled up on the couch. She didn’t stir when he walked in. He studied her features. She was for sure the same girl that he had apparently been spending a lot of time with. She looked so peaceful, untroubled in her sleep. It occurred to him that she was pretty, with her hair sprawled around her face and her lips in a small pout. She must’ve been exhausted or crazy to be here sleeping after his last encounter with him. It would be so easy for him to take her out. It was suspicious.

That’s right. Wrap your fingers around her pretty neck again, hero.

He couldn’t let his guard down. He needed to figure out what was happening and that started with her. It was time that he found out exactly who she was.

---

“Who are you?”

The voice startled you out of your nap that you had never meant to take. Your eyes jumped open and immediately focused on the closest object: the knife being pointed at your face. You yelped in surprise and instinctively pushed your entire body away from it, sitting up on the couch, propped up by your hands. The knife didn’t get any closer, but raised, staying trained on your face. You gulped and your hand lept to your throat when that hurt, remembering the bruises. Your eyes flicked to Robin, holding the knife with a hard look on his face. You cursed yourself for falling asleep, and for even getting the knife in the first place; you had practically handed it to him.

“I told you already. I’m Y/N.” You were getting really tired of this shit. Did he have memory problems or something?

“Who are you working for?” his cracked voice was full of venom, a crazy look was in his eyes.

“Working for? No one. I’m just a med student from Gotham General. I found you in a cell in Arkham and pulled you out. That’s it. I swear, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” you pleaded. You focused on his eyes and saw a flicker of doubt in them. He slowly lowered the knife. Feeling suddenly bold, you added, “I’m obviously not going to hurt you. You don’t need the knife, Robin.”

At the name, he raised the knife again, sputtering, “Don’t-- I’m not-- call me that!” The sudden change in demeanor had you flinching away from him again.

“Okay, sure. What should I call you, then?” you managed to whisper in a shaky voice.

He looked confused for a moment, like he didn’t know what to say. “Ja-- Jason,” he said, faltering like the word felt wrong on his lips.

“Okay. Jason, please put the knife down. If you’re going to be violent then you need to leave,” you said, stronger this time. You had absolutely no ground to stand on with that demand, but you prayed that he would listen.

He regarded you for a moment, it was pretty obvious that you were scared, your breaths coming out in short puffs as you kept your eyes on him. He slowly sat down on the side of the couch that you had just abandoned and the knife clattered back on the coffee table, still in reach in case he needed it.

“How did you find me?”

“I was delivering some files. I got lost and I saw an open cell with a trap door,” you explained softly, still on edge, though relaxing a little bit that he wasn’t directly threatening you anymore. “I went down and found you. The Joker was there too. I-- I shot him, then we left and came here.” You knew that you didn’t even sound like you believed it, but it was the first time you’d put that into words, the weight of the whole thing hitting you. You had shot a man. You reasoned that he hardly counted as a man, but still.

Jason closed his eyes and nodded, like you were confirming something that he had already known. He then chewed at his lip, like he was thinking hard. When he opened them again and looked at you, you were surprised at the vulnerable look that was in them.

“Can-- Can I see it?” he asked softly. You cocked your head in confusion. What was he asking for? Then he put one hand up to his face, brushing his soulmark and you understood. You silently shifted your weight off of your hand and very hesitantly reached out your left hand out to him. He took it like it was a bomb set to explode any moment. His fingers were so gentle that you could barely feel it as they brushed over your stained ones. It was such a sharp contrast to earlier that you gasped. That was also probably due to the light buzz that ran up your arm at his touch. Ever so slowly and gently, he raised your hand and moved closer until your fingertips were resting on his face. Insead of a light buzz, an actual tingle like electricity shot through you at the contact. He seemed to feel it too, as he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. His body seemed to relax all the tension.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he finally whispered after a moment. His eyes fluttered open and settled on your throat, where the bruising was already showing in full force. He looked like he was about to cry.

“Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t know,” you attempted to sooth him. His eyes were swimming with guilt and sadness and something so inherently broken that you just wanted to wrap him in your arms and hold him together. It was so unlike the last time where he had been angry and violent and unhinged.

“I thought that this was a test-- that you were--” he faltered in his attempt to explain himself to you.

“Shhh, you don’t need to explain. I can’t even imagine what happened to you, I--” you stopped short as well as a million different feelings bubbled up in your chest. You felt tears slip out of your eye as it all became too much. You slowly put your other hand up to his face, so that you were holding him in both hands, gentle, like he could break. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not sure that he could even hear it.

His eyes jumped to you in surprise. “What for?”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t come get you sooner.” You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing him in and resting your chin on his shoulder. He was stiff for a moment at the sudden closeness, but then he relaxed and you felt his hands slowly rest on your back.

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like forever, both trying to deal with all of the emotions that were flooding through you. Finally, you pulled back and he easily let you slip from his arms. He was staring at you warily, like he wasn’t sure what you were going to do next. To be fair, you didn’t know what you were going to do next. You swiped your hand through your messy hair, trying to think.

“Is-- Is there somewhere that I can take you?” you asked softly. “Family, maybe?”

His eyes went wide with fear and his breath hitched, coming out in panicked gasps. You fully recognized the signs of an impending panic attack.

“Okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to go anywhere. You can stay right here with me, I swear. Just breathe,” you said, trying to calm him down. Your hand twitched to comfort him, but then you thought better of it when you remembered the last time that you had touched him when he was in panic mode. You hoped that your voice would be enough to pacify him.

Remarkably, he found his breath again and seemed to calm down a touch. His big eyes were holding your gaze like it was the only thing binding him to reality. Maybe it was. After a moment he seemed to have regained all composure, and his eyes began to droop again.

“You should go back to the bed. Get some more rest. You need to heal,” you said and slowly took his hand and stood up, urging him to follow you. He did, offering no resistance as you led him into your bedroom and directed him toward the bed. You frowned as you remembered that both the bed and the pillows had been torn into. How had he even done that? Oh well, it still looked like it could be sleepable if he stuck to one side.

He swallowed and said, “I’m not used to…” he trailed off and it took you a moment to realize what he was saying when he walked over to the chair and sat down.

Your heart stuttered as you remembered the sight of the bloody chair discarded in the middle of the room in Arkham. That must’ve been where he was kept for so long. He was looking at you now, trying to gauge your expression. His face looked vulnerable, like the thought of you rejecting him would send him scattering into a million pieces.

“It’s okay. Whatever you’re comfortable with. Just get some sleep,” you said, giving him a small, sad smile. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” You walked back and flicked off the lights, closing the door most of the way behind you.

That had gone so much better than you thought it would, you thought to yourself as you walked into the kitchen. Once he had stopped freaking out at you he had been fine. You were glad that you hadn’t fled your apartment in terror earlier. It had been close. You made your way to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and taking stock of what you had available, also glad that you had recently gone grocery shopping since the thought of leaving Jason alone made your stomach clench in fear. He wasn’t in any shape to be going anywhere, but you doubted that that would stop him if he was determined. You weren’t sure how long he would be asleep for, so you settled on making a soup with the ingredients that you had. It could simmer for as long as he needed. The familiarity of cooking put you at ease and you lost track of time.

Once the soup was all set, you made yourself a bowl, hoping that he wouldn’t mind if you ate without him. You also decided to be somewhat productive with your time. You pulled out your laptop and some books and then called your work. The staff that you worked with were obviously annoyed that you had never come back from the file delivery earlier, but were okay with you taking off a week when you cited a family emergency. You didn’t want to go into detail explaining that you had picked up your severely injured soulmate from Arkham, so you left it at that.

Your coursework, however, couldn’t be put off if you wanted to keep your scholarship, but it could all be done from here if you needed. You got to work emailing professors and just generally making sure that you weren’t going to fall behind.

At some point you looked up to stretch and you saw a figure standing in the doorway. You yelped and stood up quickly, causing the chair to tip behind you. Then you jumped again at the loud crash that it made. After a second, you recognized your soulmate, which was strange because you hadn’t heard him come into the room. You wondered how long he had been standing there for a moment, but then recovered.

“Jason. Sorry, you startled me. There’s soup if you want some food,” you said, turning around to pick up the chair that had fallen in an effort to hide your embarrassment for that overreaction. You weren’t used to living with anyone. Let alone someone who could move around so quietly.

“Sure,” he said, his voice was still wrecked, and you wondered whether it would ever fully heal after all that he had been through. You straightened up and got him a bowl out of the cabinet, pouring some soup in and handing it to him with a spoon. He sat down on the chair opposite you, wincing as the movement aggravated his many injuries, and an awkward silence fell over the two of you. He drew it out for as long as possible, but there was only so much soup in the bowl and it didn’t look like he was going to ask for more.

“What are you doing?” he asked eventually.

“Homework. I have to get this paper written by Friday if I want to pass this class,” you said, mostly just grateful that you had something to talk about.

“What are you writing about?” he asked.

“Just something on the use of activated charcoal in extreme poisonings,” you say, aware that it was probably a boring topic that he didn’t care about. However, he kept his eyes on yours the entire time with an intensity that almost made you shrink under his gaze.

He proceeded to ask you questions for a while, digging into the topic of your paper and then about your other classes until he had you complaining for a while about some of the other interns in the hospital and talking about how your family had taken a trip to Metropolis a few summers ago. It didn’t take you long to figure him out, though. After the first couple of questions you realized that he seemed to be more intent on just listening to you talk than on anything that you were actually saying, though it surprisingly did look like he was paying at least a little attention. You let him prompt you, your answers getting more and more long-winded. You suspected that he hadn’t had anyone to talk to in a long time. Or that if you kept talking then you wouldn’t be asking him questions. Either way you let the sound of your voice fill the kitchen as you ignored your paper and chattered. You were always pretty good at holding conversation, and he was also just extremely easy to talk to. It was probably a soulmate thing.

Eventually you seemed to run out of things to talk about and he had run out of things to ask. You had basically just told him your life story and so now there was silence again. He seemed to come apart at the silence, his eyes now flicking in different directions like he thought that something would come out of the corner and attack him. You sighed and figured that you were going to have to have this conversation eventually and that you should probably just get it over with.

“Jason, can we talk about what-- what happened?” you asked hesitantly.

He stiffened and his eyes snapped back to you with the same intensity, though now he looked wary. “Just go back to writing your paper,” he dodged, his voice carrying a dangerous edge.

“I have all week for that,” you dismissed. “Besides, this is more important. If you really are Robin then Ba--”

“I told you not to call me that,” he said, his voice suddenly getting louder, just on the cusp of shouting.

“Okay, sorry,” you said immediately, putting your hands up. “It’s just that I’m sure that Batman is looking--”

With an angry yell, Jason stood up and slammed his hands down on the table, making you jump and your heartbeat rapidly increase. “Don’t ever mention him! He doesn’t care! He didn’t-- wouldn’t--” Jason broke off, breathing hard and from the ringing silence in the room he seemed to just realize now that he had been yelling. You had shrunk into yourself a little bit, but you were staring intently into his eyes. You didn’t know him very well, but you thought that you could recognize pain in his eyes from your medical training. Also fear. And maybe.... guilt? You weren’t sure on that last one, but he didn’t seem like he was angry. More like he was panicking. Like the last time that you had asked about his family.

After a moment of intense staring, he abruptly turned and walked out of the room and back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. You rubbed your temples, taking a few shaky breaths. Of course he was going to react terribly to that. Why couldn’t you just leave it alone? You shouldn’t have pushed. You berated yourself and then tried and failed to continue focusing on your paper after that distraction. You resigned yourself to going back to the couch and turning on the TV again. You’d give him a little bit to cool off and then go apologize.

You could hear him angrily pacing in the room next to you (your walls weren’t exactly soundproofed) and you inwardly flinched. Someone with injuries like that shouldn’t be moving around at all, let alone to the extent that he’d been going. You got the feeling that there was very little that you could do to deter him, and he didn’t seem to mind the pain that you were sure was coursing through his body at the moment. Eventually you heard the shower start running and you again had to push down the doctor in you that wanted to go and make sure that he was doing everything properly with the stitching that you had given him not too long ago. You’d save the lecture for when he wasn’t pissed off at you. If that was ever. You curled up further into the couch, not really paying attention to the flashing screen in front of you.

---

Jason let the warm spray of water run over his face, wondering if this is what heaven feels like. It had been so long since he had had a shower, and even though he knew from past experience that getting the stitches wet so soon after getting them wasn’t the best, he couldn’t help himself when he had wandered into the bathroom and saw the small shower. It felt so strange for him to want something and then be able to just take it.

He patted himself dry with a towel that he found under the sink and as the steam cleared out from the mirror, he was forced to think of Y/N as he spotted the bright red of the soulmark on his face. Guilt started bubbling somewhere in the back of his mind as he remembered what had just happened. She had been nothing but kind to him. She was the one that got him out of Arkham, that was giving him a place to stay and food, and all he’d done in return is yell at her and hurt her. His soulmate. He was probably the world’s worst soulmate ever. Well, of course he was. He was broken and she deserved so much better than him. Self-loathing filled him as he gazed into the mirror. Though the blood red of the soulmark covered up most of the brand, it was still visible on his face. Joker’s mark of ownership would never leave him, marking him as worthless to everyone else.

Gotta make sure that people know exactly who you belong to, birdbrat!

Jason leaned down on the counter and shut his eyes as tightly as he could, forcing his body to remain calm and breathe when all he wanted to do was spiral into another panic attack. That fucking voice was going to be with him until he died, he was sure of it. Though while he had sat and listened to Y/N talk about her life and her family, everything had been quiet. Blissfully, unequivocally quiet, save for her soft voice as she answered for much longer than necessary. There was no way that she knew that she was silencing the Joker in his head, right? Then there had been silence and all of the doubts and fears had returned. She had asked about his family and it had been too much. Between her saying things that he desperately needed to forget and the Joker’s maniacal laugh in his head, he had been seeing red. Leaving the room had been the best thing that he could think of to clear his head, but now as the silence stretched he longed for the company that he had abandoned.

Getting dressed back in the same clothes, he made his way back into the bedroom, using the towel to get the last of the water out of his hair. He was hit with another wave of guilt as he saw the torn apart bedroom in the dim lighting. Another thing that he had done wrong. He tried to straighten up a little more, but most of what he had done had destroyed the room beyond repair. He sighed and slumped down into his chair. He was so easily exhausted now, from months of not using his muscles for anything except clenching in pain. He should really start trying to get back into shape. He thought of the many exercise routines that Bruce had drilled into him as he fell into unconsciousness.

He was woken up by a tentative knock on the closed door. He lifted his head to see that he was still alone, but this time there was finally no confusion about where he was. The room was becoming familiar.

“Jason?” a hesitant voice called softly from behind the door. “I made breakfast. I know that you had dinner at like 2 am last night, but I just wanted to let you know that there’s food.... If you want it.” She went quiet, but he could tell that she was still standing right outside the door. He had been up at 2 am? He tried to think back to when time had even mattered to him. Joker was always vague about it. When he didn’t answer, her footsteps disappeared back into the kitchen. He got up and started stretching his sore muscles, still fully used to the pain that any sort of movement brought. It focused him.

The smell of breakfast food was eventually what got him to turn the doorknob and step out of the room. He had hesitated at the door, not sure how he was going to face her again after last night. She was sitting at the table with a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of her. The dark circles under her eyes let him know that she hadn’t slept much, if at all, and she was focusing on her food with a small frown on her face. He looked around and saw that there was more food on the stove, as well as an empty plate so he walked over and helped himself. He had to stop himself from literally drooling at the smell of bacon. Having easy access to food was something that he was never going to take for granted again, if he ever did in the first place. He hoped she wouldn’t mind if he took literally everything left.

He sat down at the same spot that he had been last night and started inhaling his food after drenching everything in maple syrup. He tried to stifle his moan at how good the food was, but was unsuccessful. Y/N looked up at him.

“You’ll definitely want to pace yourself with that. Your stomach probably isn’t used to a lot of sugary foods. And drink some water.” She was using what he recognized now as her doctor voice. He slowly lowered the fork from his lips, looking right back at her. She shifted under his gaze.

“And about last night, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed,” she added gently, like even just mentioning it might set him off again. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You’re apologizing for that? Fuck, you should be kicking my sorry ass to the curb,” he said, surprised at how much he sounded like his old self. She looked surprised too, looking back up at him sharply, her lips just barely twitching like she was holding back a smile.

“It’s okay to be not okay. And you’re welcome here for as long as you need. Or until rent increases enough that they kick me out. Whichever comes first,” she says nonchalantly, stabbing at another piece of food on her plate. He stared at her, trying to determine the sincerity of her words through the joke. When he saw that she looked completely serious about her offer, he felt tears prick at his eyes.

“Thank you,” his voice cracks, but what else is new so he continues. “I never said thank you for letting me stay and for cooking and talking to me and for getting me the fuck out of there.”

She stiffened and then reached over the table, covering his hand with hers. She was warm. He watched her as she gave him an even warmer smile. “You’re welcome.”

They finished their breakfast in a not totally uncomfortable silence as Jason struggled not to sob at being treated with any sort of kindness. She got up to do the dishes and when Jason followed, she handed him a towel and he dried them. When they were done, she sat back down at the table with a pad of paper and a pen and started scribbling things down on it. Jason walked up behind her and read over her shoulder as she was listing out what was clearly a shopping list.

“If you’re gonna stay here then you’ll need… things. I can make a quick trip to the store, it’s just right down the street. Anything in particular that you want?” she asked, still writing.

“I’ll just come with you,” he said.

“No way, you shouldn’t even be out of bed, let alone walking that much.” She gave him a stern look.

“I’m fine,” he protested. That look had reminded him strongly of Alfred. He hoped that she wasn’t going to be that stubborn.

“No. You’re staying here. Doctor’s orders,” she said decisively.

“Aren’t you just a student?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Closest thing we’ve got to a doctor. Unless you want to finally go to a hospital. I won’t say no to that,” she looked at him almost hopefully.

“No thanks,” he shot her down, reaching out and snatching the list. He read through it, trying to figure out what he needed to function as a normal person again. It looked like she got everything he could think of, plus some. “So, what? You planning on locking me in here?” He was mainly joking, but the weight of his words seemed to shock her.

“No! I mean, I can’t even do that. I’m just worried. If you do too much then you might puncture a lung on one of those broken ribs and-- just please tell me that you’ll stay here,” she said, catching herself from talking too much. She was looking at him with big eyes that he knew he couldn’t say no to. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He didn’t love the idea of being alone again, but he knew that she was just being reasonable. He would need a change of clothes eventually. “Fine,” he relented, sitting back down at the table. She seemed to relax at that.

“I’m going to take a shower and then head out. You’re welcome to anything in the apartment, though there’s really not much,” she said, still sounding like he would up and leave if she didn’t hurry. He wondered if she craved his company the way that he did hers. Though she probably didn’t have a clown voice ring through her head when she was alone.

When she went into the shower he finally got a moment to sweep the apartment. He found that A) there really was nothing out of the ordinary for a med student and B) that there were no cameras or listening devices that would suggest an outside party being in on this. There was also no security system beyond the one deadbolt on the lock. That was probably going to have to change soon. He settled down on the couch finally and flicked on the TV, though nothing caught his interest. He was still there when Y/N came out of the bathroom, pulling a brush through her wet hair and looking a little bit relieved when she spotted him.

“Alright, I’m off. It’ll be an hour, two hours tops,” she announced, pulling on a raincoat and grabbing her purse and keys.

“See ya,” he said nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the TV. She paused and frowned at him, and he wondered for a moment whether she could see straight through his act, but then she continued out the door, leaving him alone.

It was just two hours. He could do this.

A lot can happen in an hour, little Jaybird.

---

You sighed inwardly at the checkout counter when you saw the final price for your purchase. This was definitely eating into your carefully planned budget, but there wasn’t really much that you could do. You’d just have to see if you could work overtime at the hospital to make up for this. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you were just eager to get back. You didn’t know him very well, but he seemed like the flighty type. As well as he should, after being locked up for so long, but you’d hoped that your soulmate would at least stick around to get to know you a little.

It felt weird thinking about having a soulmate. A literal perfect match for you in every way. You two hadn’t talked about it at all, but what now? Were you supposed to start dating immediately? It felt weird to think that way about someone you literally just met. He was easy to talk to, and when he did talk (and he wasn’t angry) he seemed sweet, if not a little broody. You felt slightly embarrassed that you had spilled so much of yourself to him and he had hardly said a word about himself, but you reminded yourself that he would talk more when he was ready. You could be patient, you were just afraid of scaring him off before he could get there.

You were still pondering these things as you walked back into your apartment, your arms loaded with all of the different bags. You immediately saw Jason still sitting on the couch where you had left him, a blank look in his eyes. He looked over at you as you walked in and immediately jumped to his feet, coming over to grab some of the bags off your arms.

“That was quick,” he said emotionlessly.

“Mmmhm,” you responded, noticing that his carefully blank face told a different story. “Let’s sort through all this in the kitchen.” You led the way to the kitchen and plopped the bags down on the counter. You’d gotten clothes, toiletries, and another round of groceries for the week now that you had two people to feed and judging by the way he ate this morning those weren’t going to last long. He sorted through all of the items, not commenting on the choices.

“Do anything fun while I was gone?” you asked, mostly jokingly since it didn’t appear that he had even moved.

“There’s a great documentary on lions on. Did you know that lion cubs have spots?” he said sarcastically.

“Sounds riveting,” you said, not holding back a smile. He stared at you for a moment, but then hesitantly returned the smile, only making yours grow.

“Alright, we can clear out the top drawer of the dresser to throw your stuff in,” you said, grabbing one of the bags and heading into the bedroom with him tentatively following you. You got into the room and flicked on the light. The devastation of the room was on full display, but you just ignored that and knelt by the dresser, opening the drawer and throwing a bunch of stuff out and adding to the mess. He came to stand by you and picked up one of the shirts you had unceremoniously dumped on the ground. He held it up and inspected it. It was obviously not yours, too big to fit. He glanced down at you but didn’t ask. You decided that you’d rather not let the awkward silence reign, and gave him an explanation.

“All this crap used to be my Ex’s stuff. He was a real douchemuffin.”

“A what?” The corners of Jason’s mouth twitched up.

“Douche muffin. It’s not even worth explaining, we broke up a while ago.”

“So why do you still have his stuff?” he asked, curiously.

You shrugged. “I’ve been busy. I don’t normally hang out here too much. I’m usually working or in class.”

“Speaking of which, don’t you work during the day?”

“I took the week off.”

“Aww for me? You shouldn’t have,” he said. You’re starting to notice an accent lighten his tone. Definitely an inner-city Gotham native then. You filed that information away for later. You weren’t about to ask him any more questions about his past.

“Hey, um, sorry about the room,” he said, after the silence had gotten a little too long. You looked around and saw him looking sheepish behind you, staring down at the ground.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you dismissed, and then started gathering things on the floor into a pile. “There are garbage bags in the kitchen under the sink, could you go grab one for me?”

He did what you asked and you spent a while cleaning up the room together. You just threw away anything that was broken and wiped down the blood off the broken mirror from the other night. Then, despite your protests about his injuries, Jason helped you flip the mattress and put up the new curtains that you had bought while you were out. While you were working, you got back to chattering again, since you didn’t like the silence and he seemed to relax when he could hear your voice. You finally stumbled upon a topic that he knew about and you cursed yourself for not knowing more about baseball. All you could give him was the little tidbits that you have picked up from your father, but he seemed to perk up when you mentioned it and even gave some of his own comments about the sport. Your heart warmed at his interest and you became determined to figure out more of what he liked.

When you were done cleaning the room, it didn’t look half bad. The mirror was still broken and there were new chips off the furniture and a few holes in the wall, but other than that it looked fine. Definitely still livable. You heated up the last of the soup for lunch and were actually optimistic that things had been going so well since the morning. He seemed content to be in your company, as long as you weren’t asking personal questions, but there was something that you had been meaning to do all morning that probably shouldn’t wait any longer.

“Jason, you should let me take a look at your injuries. I need to make sure that they’re all healing properly,” you said after a while.

“I’m fine you don’t need to do that,” he tried to deflect dryly.

You sighed. “Just let me play doctor. I don’t want anything to get infected on my watch, and I’m sure that you know what you’re doing,” you said, holding up a hand when he went to protest again, “but I’d feel better if you’d just let me be certain that you’re okay.”

Jason looked like he was debating about it, his eyes got that sharp gleam in them that you had come to expect whenever he was thinking about what had happened to him. Eventually he just nodded, though there was a grim look on his face. You wasted no time in grabbing the medical kit back out from where you had it stashed and brought it to the bedroom with him following just behind you. You pulled out some necessary equipment and motioned for him to sit on the bed and take off his shirt. When he hesitantly did, you couldn’t help but to suck in a quick breath that you were sure he heard. Even though most of the bruising looked better, you were still shocked at how bad it all looked. His skin was littered with criss-crossing scars in all stages of healing.

He looked away in shame and started to cover himself up, but you snapped out of it quick and pulled his hands away, feeling the faint buzzing that you always did when your left hand connected with his skin.

“Bruising looks better, can you lean back a little for me so that I can get a good look at the stitches here?” you asked professionally. The last thing you needed was for him to be self-conscious, so you used your voice again to try and calm him down, commenting on his healing and giving commands. You listened to his heartbeat and breathing and checked and rebandaged all of the stitches. His ribs were still broken, obviously, and you wondered how he was even getting out of bed in that state. You eventually fished out some Advil that you had in the kit and made him take a couple because he was obviously stubbornly ignoring the pain that he was in. All in all, he looked about as good as you could hope for someone who had just been tortured for nine months. It honestly made you a little suspicious. You’d only spent all of 20 seconds with that maniac, but you knew that Jason could be a lot worse off than he was, which meant the Joker must’ve been keeping him at least healthy enough for some sort of plan. You really hoped that you had spoiled it when you shot him.

After you were done, Jason pulled on some clean clothes and you two made your way back to the living room where you got some reading done out of your textbooks and he asked for your laptop, which you gave to him freely. You were insanely curious about what he was up to, but you figured that he needed some privacy, though he didn’t leave the room, just sat on the opposite end of the couch from you, occasionally typing like he was searching the internet for some things.

A couple hours passed in silence and eventually you broke him out of his concentration by asking, “What do you want to make for dinner?”

He looked up like he had forgotten that you were there and then said, “What do you have?”

You closed your book and slid off of the couch. “I don’t know, let’s go look.”

You ended up on deciding on making chicken fajitas and you were about two seconds into chopping up the vegetables when his voice came from right behind you saying, “You’re doing it wrong.”

You squeaked and jumped, turning around with the knife still in your hand and getting lucky that you didn’t accidentally stab him. He had to stop walking around so silently like that. It was creepy. “Jason! Maybe don’t startle the girl with the sharp knife? Wait, I’m doing what now?”

He rolled his eyes and said, “You couldn’t stab me if you tried. But you’re cutting that wrong, we need even strips if you want them all to cook at the same time.”

“Well if you’re such an expert at this, then why don’t you do it?” you asked, prompting him to shrug and take the knife from you, walking over and expertly cutting the pepper into thin strips. You looked over his shoulder, impressed.

“The trick is to get the timing down,” he said, smirking a little as you wiped the look off your face.

“Right, the timing, of course,” you said in mock awe. He chuckled a little bit and then stopped as though he were surprised at that. You just gave him your brightest smile and asked, “So, any more amazing tips on fancy knifework?”

You were happy to let him take the lead on the cooking. He seemed to enjoy it and you were never really good at it. Passable, but he worked the kitchen like it was his second home, taking out all of your spices and wrinkling his nose at most of them. You made a mental note to expand your meager collection if these fajitas turned out to be any good. The whole time you were following around, asking questions pretty much exactly like he had been doing to you ever since you met. He caught on quick, but answered all of them even though he didn’t go into hyper-detail like you had last night. You stayed clear away from any of the sensitive topics and everything went fine. You’d even go so far as to say that it looked like he was having fun.

The fajitas were the best you’d ever had, and when you said so he just scoffed. “Alfred’s would put these to shame.” Then he paused in shock, as though he didn’t believe that he had just said that.

“Is that who taught you to cook?” you asked, innocently taking a chance.

He paused and took a bite, looking a little lost in thought. Eventually he nodded and said, “He’s the best.”

“My compliments to the chef, then,” you said, smiling and not daring to press any further. That was already hands down the most detail that he had given about his past. You hoped that that was a good sign that he was opening up to you.

If you were hoping for more opening up, then you were sorely disappointed as the next couple of days passed. You’d fallen into a sort of routine with him living there. He insisted on sleeping in the living room since he wasn’t using the bed anway, so you would get up and shower, then have coffee and study while he got ready. The two of you would make breakfast together and then do any chores around the apartment that you needed. Lunch was usually leftovers from whatever you’d had previously, then you’d cook dinner together, though it was usually just Jason working in the kitchen while you did any basic task that he deemed your level. In between you’d either study or watch TV with him. He’d taken a liking to one of the police dramas that you could stream, though it seemed like he enjoyed pointing out the inaccuracies more than anything. All in all, it was a pretty cozy arrangement. You two were getting along well and he turned out to be a pretty good roommate. You knew that you should be trying to get him to open up to you more about his family and what happened, but every time you got close to the topic he would either start to panic and shut you down again, or ignore you completely. You weren’t sure which was worse, but the air between you two was starting to thicken with the unsaid words. You couldn’t keep playing the ‘everything is fine’ game forever. You knew that something was going to have to snap sooner or later.

The nightmares started on the fourth night that he stayed with you.

You were woken up by the sounds of strangled yelling and you immediately jumped out of bed and ran into the living room with literally no plan. You were momentarily relieved that there was no one else in the room except for Jason, but then you realized that he was deep in the throes of a nightmare. His face was set in a scowl and his entire body was twitching. You jumped to his side, but stopped before violently shaking him awake like you wanted to.

“Jason,” you said, trying to keep your voice soothing. “Jason, wake up. It’s just a dream.”

He whimpered in his sleep, but his eyes stayed closed. His fists were clenching so hard that you were sure that he was hurting himself. Since that didn’t work, you very tentatively put a hand on his arm, still talking. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re here with me. Wake up please.”

His eyes snapped open and he promptly grabbed the hand that you had on him. You had a horrible flashback to the first night when he had slammed you to the ground and wrapped his hands around your neck, but this time he just pulled you forward a little bit, staring deeply into your eyes. His eyes were filled with fear, and when you moved to comfort him further, he flinched back hard, causing you to back off.

“Hey, it’s just me. You were yelling in your sleep,” you murmured, looking away from him.

“Y/N,” he whispered, sounding like he was getting more lucid. “‘M sorry for waking you up.”

“That’s okay. Can you let me go now?”

He looked down at his hand, which still had a deathgrip around your forearm. He quickly released it and you rubbed blood back into your fingers. He looked up at you like he was going to apologize for it, but you beat him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked softly.

“About what?” he answered automatically.

“The dream.”

He set his jaw into a hard look. “No.”

“... okay. Do you need anything? I can--”

“I’m fine. Go back to bed,” he said, sounding tired. You stared down at him warily, wishing that he would just open up to you and get it over with, but there was really nothing you could do.

“Fine. Just let me know if you change your mind. Goodnight Jason.” You walked back to your room and crawled into bed. Maybe he’d be more cooperative in the morning.

The morning came and Jason seemed determined to pretend like nothing had happened, though the dark circles under his eyes told you that he probably hadn’t gone back to sleep at all after waking up. The day was a lot more quiet than usual, both of you sticking to your thoughts more. You kept shooting him worried glances, which he would return with narrowed eyes. A warning that he still didn’t want to talk about it.

The night after that it happened again. You woke him up and got nothing but another command to go back to bed and he looked even worse in the morning after two days with no sleep. The third day was so much worse.

“No. Stop. Please,” you heard a whine. “Please please please. Bruce. No!!”

It felt like your stomach was filled with molten lead as you jumped out of bed again at his words. He was sitting in the usual chair in the living room, arms wrapped protectively around himself and his face twisted into fear. He looked so small and young, it was breaking your heart to see him like this.

Again, you woke him up with a gentle touch and gentler words. This time you used your left hand, though. Maybe the touch of the soulmark would help, you thought as you felt the telltale tingle go up your arm and you tried to convey warmth and safety. His eyes fluttered open more gently this time and he took a few shaky breaths to recover.

“Jason, you should really--”

“I already told you no,” he snapped, his earlier fear and confusion settling into frustration.

“But--”

“Go back to bed.”

You narrowed your eyes at his tone. “No,” you said and you both stayed still for a moment, glaring at each other. Then you abruptly straightened up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the tub of ice cream out of the freezer and a spoon and returning to the living room. Jason's eyes followed you as you settled yourself onto the couch and turned on the TV. You searched around Netflix for a show that you liked and put it on, pointedly ignoring Jason.

“What are you doing?” he asked after a minute.

“Watching TV,” you said, not taking your eyes off the screen. You took a big bite of ice cream.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Oh, sorry. Were you going to go back to sleep?” you asked, lacing your voice with friendly concern and finally turning your eyes back toward him.

“You should.” You can see the frustration in his eyes grow as you were intentionally being difficult.

“I’ll leave if you go to sleep,” you said, too stubborn to let him win. You turned your eyes back to the screen.

After a moment, you heard him get up and walk across the room, then felt the couch dip as he settled in his spot next to you. You offered him the ice cream and he took a bite, sitting and staring at the screen silently for a while with you. You were fighting back another yawn (because he would only use that as more ammunition) when you realized how close the two of you had gotten as you passed the tub of ice cream back and forth. You were acutely aware that you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he stared at the screen, seeming determined to win this battle of stubbornness.

You used the opportunity to focus more on him. He had a forced look of relaxation on, but you could tell that he was still bothered by the nightmare that he refused to talk about. You thought you might already have an idea of what it was about, but that wasn’t the point. It hurt you to see him in so much fear and pain. You just wanted to wrap your arms around him and let him know that you were there for him, that he was safe with you. Your relationship hadn’t strayed into the physical realm at all. Not even the comforting touches and hugs that you were used to with friends. You had been too concerned with letting him have his space. But maybe now…

In a stroke of boldness, you reached out and grabbed his hand in your own. You shuddered when your soulmark brushed his skin as you intertwined your finger together. He stiffened at the touch a little bit, but didn’t pull away. You felt his eyes on you as you focused back onto the screen, not remembering in the slightest what had happened this episode. You felt your face heat up slightly under his gaze, but after a moment of silence from you both, he tightened his grip on your hand and turned his attention back to the screen as well.

---

Jason felt his heart stutter when Y/N’s head hit his shoulder. He looked down at her to see her fast asleep, face smooshed up against him as she took deep, even breaths. He’d been feeling her slowly relax into him more and more as the sun started to rise. She was obviously exhausted, but more determined to keep up her ridiculous act. He rolled his eyes. She should have just listened to him in the first place and went back to bed. He should probably wake her up and tell her so, but then again, her hand in his felt so warm and comforting and right. She mumbled something in her sleep and snuggled closer to him. It struck him how absolutely content she looked, how much she trusted him. Even after all the shit he had pulled when he had first got there, she had so easily forgiven him and tried so hard to help him. He 100% knew that he didn’t deserve any of this, her care, her kindness, her trust, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Instead, he laid his head back, breathed in the comforting smell of her hair, and fell asleep.

He didn’t wake up again until the sun had already reached its peak and was coming down again.

---

Holding hands became the norm whenever you were on the couch together. The nightmares continued, though, and you never failed to go and wake him when you heard it, despite his half-hearted grumbled protests. Sometimes you two would stay up and watch TV, or you would just sit on the couch in silence, fingers tangled. His most recent favorite was after you had discovered that he had a passion for books and would sit on the couch reading to him in the late hours of the night. Those moments always felt like the most intimate.

After the week had passed, you had needed to go back into work. You had been slightly worried about leaving him alone, but you needed the money and he insisted that he was going to be fine. He was doing a lot better than when you first found him, but you were still relieved to see him at the end of every shift. Your life was becoming busy again as your coursework picked up and you took extra night shifts at work to make ends meet, but you were surprised at how quickly and entirely Jason had wound his presence into your life. He was always around to listen to your complaints about coworkers and school and to talk about your interests. As you slowly broke down the walls that he had put up, he started talking more too. You found that you rather liked his fiery personality, though you had to yell at him the one time that you had caught him exercising and he tore a stitch. He had a stubbornness to match yours and often things became a competition. He even started opening up a little bit about his dreams, much to your delight and horror. You were right when you figured that they mostly starred the Joker. He didn’t want to go into detail, but what he did tell you was enough to give you your own nightmares. There was still no words said about Batman and Robin, though.

It had been a particularly long day at work and it was late. You had worked a double shift after staying up late to finish off a paper that was due and you just wanted to curl up in a blanket with some hot chocolate and destress. Jason had dinner ready when you got home (something that he had gotten into the habit of doing) and you found that you didn’t really have an appetite. He looked at you a little bit concerned, but didn’t say anything, which you were grateful for. After you were finally done and had washed the last dish, you wandered over to the living room to see Jason sitting on the couch. You eyed the news channel that was on, but didn’t comment. He had been watching the news a lot more, you’d noticed. Flinching every time Batman or Robin was mentioned. You’d tried to confront him about it, to no avail. Today you just walked over to the couch where he was sitting and said, “Scoot.”

He looked a little confused about your request, since that had come to be his side, but he complied anyway and you plopped down right next to him, pulling a thick blanket over yourself, wasting no time in snuggling into him. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you in closer.

“Rough day?” he asked, voice even.

“The worst,” you whined to him overdramatically. His hand found yours and his thumb started rubbing along your stained fingers ever so gently. You felt the tension start to bleed out of you. It was one of your favorite things, him touching the mark like that. It was so deliciously intimate that you had taken to wearing gloves most of the time that you were out, just in case someone that wasn’t him accidentally brushed your fingers. That was actually part of your goal tonight. You had begun feeling jealous of the easy access that he had to your fingers and while you had gotten to occasionally brush your hand against his mark, it’s not like you could have your hands all over his face all the time. You pulled your hand away and brought it up to his face, humming contently as the marks brushed and the full feeling of your connection came through. You let your fingers skim over the mark and he stiffened and closed his eyes, but didn’t move away. You let yourself zone out, vaguely hearing the news reporter on the screen.

“Stop,” Jason said suddenly, voice firm, his hand jumping up to peel yours away from his face and turning away from you. You looked up in shock, wondering what had caused that, but a second later you realized in horror that you had unconsciously traced the ‘J’ that was branded in his skin under the mark.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, looking into his sharp blue eyes. “Did I hurt you? I’ll be more careful.”

“There is no ‘more careful’,” Jason growls, “The bastard branded my face. He made damn sure that I had a clear reminder of just who owns me. Made sure that I’d always have his mark.” His voice was getting more strained as he went on. You recognized the signs that he was coming apart and quickly reached up to grab his face again, with both hands this time. You turn his head so that he has no choice but to look into your eyes.

“No,” you say, fiercely, looking deep into his eyes to make sure that he’s understanding you. “That’s my mark. Mine. He doesn’t get to own any part of you.” You’re a little surprised at the possessiveness bleeding through your voice, but you hold your ground and show him that you’re completely serious. He looks a little shocked too, but then he’s leaning forward and his lips are on yours. It’s a gentle kiss at first, but quickly morphs into something else. Suddenly, he’s kissing you like he needs it to survive. Your hands haven’t moved from their position on his face, but his have wrapped around you and are pulling you in so close that you’re having trouble remembering where your body ends and his begins. His lips are soft and insistent, and you’re meeting him with the same enthusiasm. Everything in that moment is, in a word, perfect.

Eventually you need to pull back or else you’ll suffocate. You can feel his puffs of air across your lips that show that he is breathless as well and you keep your eyes closed for another moment, not wanting this to end. Then you open your eyes and look at him. He’s staring down at you with a big, lopsided grin on his face. You return it with a bright smile of your own.

“So, you wanna tell me about your terrible day?” He asked, leaning back.

“Yeah, terrible,” you say, giving a breathless giggle, unable to stay sad after that.

Chapter Text

Life continued, and though you never explicitly talked about it, your relationship with Jason only grew. Occasional, sweet kisses turned into long make-out sessions on the couch which turned to sleepy morning pecks before work. You spent most nights on the couch with him, holding each other close. You had no doubt that you were falling for him fast, but he was your soulmate, so that was okay, right? Most of his wounds healed enough to where he could do normal activities without wincing in pain the whole time and all of his stitches had been removed. He began helping out in running errands like going to the grocery store. You had gone with him the first couple of times, not sure how he would react around crowds of people, but he didn’t seem to mind too much. You got the feeling that he had been something of an introvert before you met him, so you weren’t too worried.

The nightmares became less and less frequent as you started spending more time sleeping on the couch with him (thank God your couch was decently sized for two), though he got more and more focused on watching the news and reading articles on your laptop. You heard him start muttering to himself whenever Batman or one of his Rogues was mentioned, but you could never quite catch what he was saying. After about a month and a half of living together, it seemed like things were starting to get normal again, which, of course, meant that things started to change.

It started with a break-in. You didn’t exactly live in the nicest part of Gotham, so that had always been a possibility, but you also didn’t have much that was worth money, just like everyone else that lived in your shitty complex, so you figured that you were sort of hiding in plain sight. You weren’t sure what exactly prompted the late-night visit, but you were startled out of sleep by the crash of the door being kicked in and you felt Jason untangle himself from you where you were laying on the couch and jump to his feet. You blinked up after him, sleep leaving your body in a wave when your brain connected what you heard to what was happening.

“Stay here,” Jason commanded and then ran over to the entryway where you thought you could vaguely make out a bulky figure. Of course, you jumped to your feet and walked the opposite way, around the couch and put more distance between you and the intruder. You blearily looked around for something that you might be able to use as a weapon when you heard a couple of sharp grunts as Jason supposedly engaged them.

It ended before you could even reach the nearest lightswitch to try and see what was going on. The lights illuminated the thug, who was on the ground and out cold. Jason was standing over him, holding the intruder up by the collar, with his fist still raised like he was ready to punch again if he saw any sign of movement. He blinked in the sudden light, but otherwise the fierce snarl on his face stayed the same. You noticed red blood staining his knuckles.

“Jason?” you asked in confusion, your voice still thick from sleep. He tore his eyes away from the other man to glance over at you. Then, he unceremoniously dropped him to the ground with a dull thud and patted him down rather professionally. He pulled out a wallet and a knife from the man, and then grabbed the gun that had fallen to the floor in the fight. You stared at it with wide eyes.

“Oh my god, what just happened?” you stuttered out, the shock making you breathe hard. “Are you okay?” Jason made his way across the room over to you, setting the items in his hand down carefully on the table along the way. Then he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

“It’s okay. Breathe. You’re safe. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, I promise,” he said soothingly, pressing a few kisses into your hair as you tried to breathe deeply and clung to the front of his t-shirt. You let yourself press into him for a long moment, then pulled away when you felt like oxygen was finally getting to your brain. You turned around to look at the unconscious form of the man on your floor. His nose was still spilling fresh blood in the entryway carpet.

“We’ve got to call the cops,” you murmured, then made a move to go for your phone on the coffee table. Jason stopped you.

“No. I can handle this. Just go into the bedroom. It won’t take long,” he said, in that same voice like he was trying to soothe you still.

“You can ‘handle this’? What does that even mean?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“Just… trust me. I know what to do. No one can know that I’m here,” Jason said, stronger this time. He tensed, like he was ready to fight again.

“Fine,” you say, throwing your hands up in exasperation. You didn’t really want to pick a fight when you had work in a few hours. “Fine. Just don’t take too long, please.” You really didn’t want to be alone in the apartment for any longer than you had to be.

“I won’t,” he promised and then gave you a quick peck on the lips and watched you walk all the way to the bedroom and close the door. You sank into bed, hugging a pillow and leaning on the headboard. You heard dragging sounds, and then the close of a door and then you were alone. Part of your brain was telling you that you should really go see what he was doing with the intruder, the other half was happy that you didn't have to deal with it.

The next day at work was normal, until you read your email during a slow stretch. There was an email from your bank waiting for you about your student loans. You groan and open it, expecting bad news, but none comes as your eyes dully scan over the words one time, two times, three times.

Thank you for your loan payment! You have paid in full and the account has been closed--

What?

You take a moment to go view your accounts, but see that they really are closed and that you can’t trace where the money had come from. You guess that the bank really didn’t care where the money came from, as long as it was paid. You blinked, trying to figure out what had just happened, but then were quickly called away by the demands of work and you forced it out of your mind while you completed your shift.

When you got home, the first thing that you noticed was that the door had been fixed. Since it had been brutally kicked in last night, the frame and the locks had been destroyed when you left, but now they looked good as new. More than that, there had been two more deadbolts added to the door: another that opened from the outside and one that locked from within. You stared at it for a moment, but your keys worked on both and you let yourself in.

“Jason?” you called when you opened the door, sure that you heard movement. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were still shaken from last night and seeing him sitting on the floor of the living room surrounded by wires and tools let you relax a bit.

“Hey, Y/N. How was work?” he greeted you, but didn’t look up from the wire that he was currently stripping.

“Good…,” you say, taking off your jacket and shoving it and your purse on the counter. You walked back around and stopped in front of him. “What do you have there?”

“It’s a security system for your place. Honestly, I should’ve done this ages ago. It’s all top of the line, it’ll protect your windows and doors while we’re away and at night. I don’t want another surprise like last night,” he answered nonchalantly.

You eye the display and the wires that are now running around the house. He was right, they looked top of the line. They also looked expensive. It also looked like he was building most of it up from scratch, which really shouldn’t surprise you, but did. The way his fingers were moving deftly to strip and connect the wires told you that he had done this before.

“Where’d you get all this?” you asked, moving over to the couch and sitting down, leaning over the armrest to look down at him.

“I know a really good place for stuff like this. The owner gave me a great deal,” Jason said, now pausing his work and looked at you, hearing your suspicious tone. His eyes told you not to push.

“Uh huh. Where did you get the money? I’m going to have to budget this in.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was a really good deal, I’ve got it covered.”

“Jason--,” you started, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to let this drop without a fight.

“Y/N,” he interrupted firmly. “After last night you should be fucking relieved about this. You should be relieved in general. Do I have to remind you that Harley saw your face that night? Who knows who she could have told, and I’m sure that all of them would be happy to come back and finish you off for her after what you did.”

Jason seemed a little too satisfied when you let fear wash over your face. You had really been trying to forget what had happened, but he had a point there. However, you were sure that he had either stolen the security system, or the money for the security system and that also had to be addressed. You tried a different tactic.

“Okay, sure. You’ll never guess what happened today at work. Someone paid my student loans. In full. Isn’t that great?” you prompted, staring him straight in the eye, looking for any sort of prior knowledge.

He had a better poker face than you could read. “Oh really? That’s great news.” His voice was emotionless.

“You don’t know anything about that, do you? Y’know, since you suddenly have enough money to buy some sophisticated tech?”

He shrugged. “Rich assholes are always doing stupid charity things like paying student loans. I’m sure it helps them sleep at night.”

You bit your lip, knowing that if you kept at it, the resulting conversation wouldn’t be pretty. You felt like you needed to, though. He had been avoiding this topic for too long.

“Bruce Wayne wouldn’t happen to be the rich asshole in question, would he?”

Jason froze, his mouth opening up in shock just a little bit, then he jumped to his feet, prompting you to stand as well. He took a few long strides toward you so that you had to tilt your head up slightly to meet his gaze.

“Why would you think that?” he asked, voice growing low and cold.

“You kept mentioning ‘Bruce’ in your sleep. It wasn’t hard to figure it out from there, Jason Todd.” You weren’t going to back down.

“Wow, you must think you’re some sort of detective,” he said mockingly, doing nothing but flaring your temper further.

“Did he give the money to you? Did you steal it? Does Bruce Wayne even know that his son is alive? He has to be worried sick and--”

“Don’t you dare talk to me about him like you know anything about it!” Jason was yelling now.

“Jason, he’s your father--”

“HE ABANDONED ME! He left me there to rot with the Joker like I was nothing!” Jason’s eyes were burning into yours furiously.

“I’m sure that’s not true. He and Dick were looking for you,” your voice grew softer under his rage.

“You don’t know that! You don’t know anything! He was supposed to come find me, but he never came. I dreamed- wished every night that he would come find me. That I could get out of that hell. But every fucking night I was disappointed. The Joker came and beat me and let all of his little buddies in on the fun too until I knew for damn sure that he wasn’t coming. ” He laughed humorlessly, running a hand through his hair. “He never cared about me. Probably couldn’t wait to get rid of me. And Dick? I don’t even know him well enough to know if he did care. He didn’t stick around long enough to learn more than my name.”

“You don’t know that,” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“HE REPLACED ME! He threw me out like I was trash and got something better! Fuck Bruce Wayne! And Dick Grayson! And Timothy Drake!”

You stepped forward as a single tear ran down his face and you wiped it away with your hand, despite his flinch. At your touch, the tension seemed to melt out of him and you stepped closer and brought him into your arms, squeezing him as tightly as you could when you felt his breath come out in shudders. He slowly wrapped his arms around you back, and you maneuvered him to the couch and sat down without breaking the embrace. He began to cry in earnest then, letting out heartbreaking sobs that shook his whole body. You just held him through it, letting him get it out until he had nothing left to give and he was slumped on you in exhaustion. You both fell asleep on the couch that night, holding each other as close as you could possibly get.

In the morning he was, predictably, quiet after a night full of nightmares and little sleep. You fussed over him a little bit before he snapped at you to go to work and cast worried looks at him over your shoulder as you did so. You told yourself that you would try your best to get off work early to come spend some more time with him that night. You had no idea how to help him, but you were damn sure that you were going to try.

It ended up not mattering that you got home early. When you did open the door and walk in, he was nowhere to be found. You kept yourself busy as you waited, and as the sun began to sink further, you started to worry that he had left for good. He finally walked in shortly after it had gotten dark, completely exhausted. He didn’t even spare you a glance as he headed for the shower, taking a long time.

“Where were you?” you asked once he had gotten out. You winced at how demanding that sounded.

“Out,” he said in a clipped tone. You watched from the kitchen table as he disappeared into the living and you heard him sit down on the couch.

“I can see that. Out where?” You followed him, crossing your arms around yourself in a way that said that you didn’t want another fight.

“Just catching up with some old friends. Come over here,” he held out his arms in invitation. You raised an eyebrow and stared at him for a moment, but when it was clear that he wasn’t going to elaborate you just sighed and sat down next to him, letting him wrap you in his arms and pretend like there was nothing wrong.

That night started a trend of many nights. It was always up in the air whether he would be there or not when you got home. He would always be vague about where he was or what he was doing, though, and no amount of prying on your part would loosen his lips. He was also always exhausted, sometimes coming home with new injuries (that were already treated). Sometimes he started not coming home at all and that scared the hell out of you. You two started fighting a lot more too when he wouldn’t tell you where he was going. A lot of nights when he would get back late, you would just glare at him and then disappear into the bedroom. Your best guesses at what he was up to involved either vigilantism, or criminal activity and since he was being so tight-lipped, you were leaning toward the latter, even though you desperately wanted to believe that you were wrong. As infuriating as it all was, you never had the heart to kick him out, though with each day of silence you were getting closer.

“You going to be home tonight?” you asked at the breakfast table, watching him fiddle with more of the electronics that he had been bringing in lately.

“Dunno. Maybe,” he said, not looking at you.

“Let me rephrase that. You’re going to be home tonight, or you’re not going to be home at all.” He looked up at you, surprised by the conviction in your voice. You glared down at him.

“Y/N--” he started, but you weren’t going to let him weasel his way out of this one.

“No, I’ve had enough. We are going to talk tonight when I get off work.” You kept your voice calm and cool, not letting any of your anger seep through. There was a brief staredown, but eventually he sighed and gave in.

“Okay, fine. I’ve also been meaning to talk to you about some stuff.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

The two of you glared at each other like children until you broke off to put on your coat and walk out the door.

Jason was actually there when you returned. You knew you shouldn’t have been surprised, but you were. He had even made dinner, from the mouthwatering smell in the kitchen, which was sweet of him. He was in the shower, which gave you a few precious moments to psych yourself up for the coming conversation. No more dodging the question or silent treatments, you were going to find out what he was doing or you were going to demand that he left. It was simple. You could do this. You wandered over to the kitchen and turned on the sink to wash your hands before dinner. Nothing came out. That was weird, you’d have to go check the main.

A knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts and you went to go answer it, preparing to tell whoever it was to fuck off. The door swung open to reveal a large man in body armor. He had silver hair, an eye patch, and that intimidating air around him that told you that answering that door without looking had probably been a bad idea.

“Hello dearie. Is Jason around?” he asked, his voice smooth with a thick accent.

Shit. You waited just a second too long before saying, “Who?”

“Who indeed,” he smirked and then pushed his way past you into the apartment. You noticed that he was armed to the teeth as he passed by and you took a few steps back to get out of his way. This definitely wasn’t good. “Come on over here. If I was going to hurt you I would have done so already,” he drawled and walked casually into the kitchen. You hesitantly followed him, your heartbeat picking up.

“Smells divine. The kid’s a good cook,” he said cheerily, opening the pot on the stove to view its contents.

“Who are you?” you asked, finding your voice, though it still sounded shaky.

“Oh, how rude of me. The kid didn’t tell you about me, huh? Looks like we have that in common. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you,” he said, walking smoothly back to you and then grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips for a kiss in a very old-fashioned gesture. You were too surprised to protest. Then he abruptly twisted your arm so that your palm was face up, causing you to squeak out in alarm more than pain, and his eyes roamed hungrily over your soulmark. A gloved hand came up to run gentle fingers over it and you shuddered and blushed, causing him to look up at you. A dark look entered his eyes as he looked you up and down. He opened his mouth to say something when a different voice cut through the air.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Jason growled, sounding more furious than you had ever heard him. The man looked over your shoulder and you twisted to look too, though your hand was held firmly in his grasp. Jason was standing behind you, wearing some sort of red accented combat gear with a strange symbol on his chest. He had a gun in his hands, but it was held low since you were in the way of his shot.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Knight. I was only being polite,” the man drawled, dropping your hand and you immediately moved a few steps away from him, turning so that you could see both him and Jason, who was now pointing the gun at the man. “I had to meet the girl behind that mark on your face.”

“Get. Out. Now.” Jason flicked the safety off and kept his aim steady. Your brain was barely keeping up with the conversation.

“Relax, kid. We’re all friends here. I was merely curious about what sort of detail you’d provided on this place. Something this... valuable should be adequately protected.” The man slowly put his hands up and there was a tense silence until Jason lowered the gun. “I must’ve missed them, though, because it seems like there’s nothing.”

“Posting guards would only make this place a target,” Jason said, putting his gun away.

“Not posting guards will only make regrets. Especially if she’s opening the door to strangers.” Jason shot you an angry look and you just stared guiltily back.

“I’m not paying you to get into my business. Just do your job,” Jason snapped back and walked further into the room until he had put himself between you and the stranger. You noticed that he had several more guns strapped to his body. You thought you could also see a knife sticking out of his boot.

“Speaking of the job. I called you earlier to let you know that we’re moving it up. Starting tonight. The formula’s done early and changing the schedule will make it harder for any moles to alert their contacts. Hope you’re ready.” The man eyed you behind Jason as he spoke.

Jason gave a curt nod. “Understood. Give me a moment and I’ll be right out.”

The man looked between you with a knowing smirk and then strode back to the entryway, crossing his arms and watching you with detached interest. Jason seemed to be fine to ignore him and he turned to you.

“Jason, who is that? What job?” you asked softly.

“Hey, Y/N. Don’t wo--”

“You better not fucking tell me not to worry about it. What the hell was that?” you hissed, starting to get more frantic.

“Listen, there’s something that I have to do. That’s what I’ve been up to for the past month, planning this job and I swear, I swear that I’ll tell you about it afterwards, but right now I have to go,” Jason said, cupping your face in his hands and looking desperately into your eyes like he was trying to convey how serious he was. “For now, I need you to promise me that you won’t leave this apartment for the next couple days for any reason.”

“What--?” His grip on your face tightened, causing you to hesitate.

“Please. Promise me. Please. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” he begged. You could feel his hands shaking under his firm grip and he looked so desperate that you found yourself nodding. When he didn’t seem satisfied you murmured out a small, “I promise.”

Relief flooded his eyes and he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, like you might break if he did it too hard, then he released you and walked back to the hallway to grab a bag that you hadn’t noticed before.

“I’ll only be gone a few days. You should have everything you need,” he said, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

The mystery man who had been watching this whole exchange decided to speak up, walking back towards you and you could see Jason stiffen, but he didn’t protest again. The man pulled out a handgun from somewhere on his body and placed it on the table.

“For protection,” he said simply, then turned and stalked out the door. You looked down at the gun for a long moment, then back up to Jason. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead he just fixed his gaze with yours and said, “Be careful. Don’t answer the door or take any unknown calls. I will be back for you.”

You stared at him, knowing that arguing further was only going to be pointless and chewed your bottom lip. “Be safe,” you said, deciding that that was what mattered right now.

“Never,” he said, with a lopsided, cocky smile and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. He looked like he was going to say something more, but then a sharp knock on the door frame interrupted him. He just fixed one last loving look on you, and then disappeared out the door, closing it with a bang.

You stood in the same spot for what felt like forever after he had left, trying to piece together what had just happened. You were definitely angry at Jason for not bothering to explain to you what was going on fully before he left, but also terrified of his vague warnings. That other man had also been bad news, you were sure even though you didn’t recognize him. Also, Jason’s demand that you stayed inside didn’t bode well. If he was concerned about you then that probably meant that there was danger for other civilians coming as well. Your stomach dropped at the thought of innocent people getting hurt because of your soulmate. There had to be something that you could do.

There might be. You had been playing with the idea in your head for a while, ever since you had found out Jason’s true identity, but you hadn’t done it yet because you were at least trying to respect his boundaries. Now, it seemed like that was going to need to be now or never. You had to go find Bruce Wayne yourself since Jason wasn’t going to. The thought made your head buzz in apprehension. You were pretty sure that he was Batman and so the idea of just going and talking to him seemed laughable. He probably already knew what was happening. But what if he didn’t? You felt like you owed it to Gotham to at least go make sure that its protector knew something was going down. But you’d need proof. Something to get you through the door.

You walked to your storage closet and started tossing items out of the way in a hurry. You hadn’t known why you’d done it, but you’d kept the old Robin costume that he’d been wearing the first night after you peeled it off of him and washed it. Maybe you always knew that keeping some sort of proof of that night around would help, or maybe you were just a sentimental idiot. Either way, you were glad when your hands closed around the shredded kevlar. You grabbed the top, since it was the most recognizable with the symbol on it and then ran out to your car, ignoring the pounding of rain. As you crossed to the door you briefly considered the handgun that lay on your table. Should you bring it...?

It probably wasn't the best idea to go talk to Batman with a gun.

You briefly felt guilty that you were going against the promise that you had literally just made to Jason, but you didn’t let that stop you as you sped off down the street for Bristol. If you were right about this, you could be potentially saving lives.

You pulled up to the closed gates of Wayne Manor, only having gotten lost once. It was hardly ever that you had a reason to go to this part of the city and the gates seemed to loom over you ominously. You approached, wrapping your light jacket around yourself tightly as you got completely soaked. You had been in such a rush to get out that you had failed to put your warm coat back on. The intercom had a large call button, which you pressed and then waited.

“My dear girl, what could you possibly be doing here at this hour?” a voice rang out from the gate just barely loud enough to hear over the rain. It sounded like an old Englishman. You looked up and spotted a camera pointed down at you. You looked up into it as you answered.

“I’m here to-- I need to talk to Bat-- Bruce Wayne,” you stuttered, not having planned at all what you were going to say. “I need to talk to Bruce Wayne. It’s urgent. It’s about Jason. Jason Todd.” As you kept talking you got more confident.

“I believe that the master is busy at the moment, perhaps you could come at a different time. Thank you very much.”

“Please,” you said, then you bit your lip and held up the torn uniform toward the camera, making sure to spread it out and display the symbol. There was a short gasp on the other end, and then the gates began to open. You rushed back to your car and jumped in to drive the rest of the way up to the biggest house that you had ever seen in your life. It was bigger than your entire apartment complex. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and then walked up the steps to the door, clutching the Robin shirt tightly to your chest. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest when the doors opened as soon as you were about to knock. An old man greeted you. He was basically exactly what you had imagined from hearing his voice.

“Come in, Miss, you’re absolutely soaked. Leave your shoes and jacket here and I’ll go fetch you a nice hot cup of tea,” he said pleasantly, but there was a distinct frown on his face. You complied with his requests even though you felt bare without your shoes or jacket. Your hair still dripped onto the polished marble floors and you felt guilty. The butler (because what else could he be in that suit?) led you to a sitting room immediately to the left and dug out a blanket to hand you.

“The young masters will be with you in just a moment, you caught them at an inconvenient time. I’ll be right back with that tea. Any requests?”

“No, I’m okay with whatever,” you mumbled, not used to being waited on like this. You quickly wrapped the blanket around yourself to try and stop shivering. The butler just tutted at you and then disappeared out of the room. You looked around and gathered your thoughts, though that was hard in this room. You were sure that you could pick anything and sell it for enough to pay your rent for months. You were sitting on a soft white couch facing another couch and a small wooden coffee table in between. There were several nice paintings on the walls and an ordinate grandfather clock against one wall.

“Okay, stop. You can do this,” you whispered to yourself, trying to get out of your head. You needed to get your shit together so that you could tell Batman what he needed to know. Worst case he would just laugh at you and kick you out. There was no way that the man was as cruel as Jason had made him out to be, right? He was a hero. You could do this. You can do this.

---

The girl was sitting rather stiffly on the couch, dripping onto it and the floor as she shivered. There was nothing immediately impressive about her, but Bruce couldn’t take his eyes off of the red fabric that she had clutched to her chest. She hadn’t noticed them come in yet. It seemed like she was nervous, with her eyes closed, muttering under her breath.

“Good evening. Alfred tells me that you have something for me?” Bruce said, and her eyes flew open. She let out a gasp of surprise and jumped to her feet, the blanket falling off her shoulders.

“Um, hi. Yeah, I have um, here. It was Jason’s,” she said in a faltering voice. She was blushing as she held out the red fabric. Bruce walked over and took it in his hands, running them over the familiar kevlar, pausing as he traced the Robin symbol.

“Where did you get that?” Tim said to his left, watching Bruce inspect the old uniform.

“I, um…” she choked on her words, trailing off and staring at Tim in confusion.

“I’m Dick Grayson,” Dick said smoothly with a wink, deciding correctly that she needed to be calmed down if this discussion was going to be productive. “This is Bruce Wayne and Timothy Drake. And you are?”

“Y/N,” she mumbled, but it seemed like his calming voice was working as she took a few deep breaths. Her eyes lingered on Tim for a moment when he was introduced, like she hadn’t expected him to be there.

“Nice to meet you, why don’t we sit down?” Dick suggested and then crossed the room to sit next to her on the couch. Bruce and Tim took the couch opposite of her and it was clear from the tenseness in her muscles that she could tell that she had the intense focus of the entire room. Dick kindly wrapped the blanket around her shoulders again and she shot him a grateful look. He smiled calmly back at her.

“Where did you get this?” Bruce asked again, keeping his voice soft. The boys recognized it as the voice he used with victims as Batman.

“I pulled it off Jason. In Arkham,” she said, seeming more relaxed.

“Arkham?” Bruce winced. That’s where Jason had been all this time? They had searched Arkham, what did he miss? How could he have let this happen?

“Yeah, in the abandoned wing, there was a tunnel under one of the cells. That’s where I found him…,” she had a haunted look on her face. Apparently the memory wasn’t exactly pleasant. He didn’t expect it to be.

“Okay, do you remember the cell number? We’ll go get him,” Bruce said, his voice sounded tired, like it had since Jason had disappeared. He clutched the shirt in his hands, trying not to let them shake. She was giving him a weird look.

“He’s not at Arkham,” she said slowly, confusion in her voice.

“But you said-- where is he?” Tim asked.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here,” she said, looking between all of the men in the room in confusion. They were all just as confused as she was.

“How do you not know where he is? Did someone move him?” Dick asked, trying to piece it together.

“What’re you--? Oh my god, no. What? He’s not dead, I got him out of Arkham. He’s been living with me for like two months,” Y/N said in a rush. The room went dead quiet as all three of them stared at her in shock. Not a second later there was a loud crash and everyone turned to look at the entrance of the room where Alfred had been walking in with a tray full of teacups. He was staring at them all with the same shock that Bruce was sure was on all of their faces.

“Dreadfully sorry. I’ll clean this up right away. Please carry on,” Alfred said after a second and turned to leave the room.

All eyes turned back to the girl and she seemed to shrink into herself.

“I think, maybe, you should start at the beginning?” Dick said kindly, carefully putting a hand on her shoulder, but Bruce could see that he was shaking too.

“Okay. So, um, I’m an intern at Gotham general and I had to go deliver some files to Arkham. I took a couple wrong turns and ended up in one of the abandoned wings, but I noticed that a cell door was open and that there was a trap door thing in it. Then someone was coming so I sort of decided to hide from them in it?” she sounded like she couldn’t believe how stupid it sounded. “I swear it made sense at the time... Anyway, there were a lot of stairs and then there was this room at the bottom that was open and Jason was in the middle of it, wearing that,” she nodded at the costume.

“Describe the room,” Bruce prompted.

“Um it was a little bit smaller than this room. There was one hanging light in the middle of it pointing down at the chair. The rest of it was covered in junk. I don’t…” she trailed off at a loss, like she was trying to remember more, but not knowing what Bruce was looking for. Her description roughly coincided with the video that the Joker had sent, which gave her story more credibility. He just nodded at her to go on.

“Jason was-- Jason was on the floor, crying and there were two other people there, but they were-- they were dead. Shot. Um. They were both dressed like Batman.” She pulled in another breath and Bruce could see Nightwing’s hand tighten on her shoulder. “Jason was in really bad shape. That’s when the Joker showed up. He was… terrifying. And then he was coming at me and laughing and so I-- I picked up a gun off the floor and I shot him.” The last couple of words came out in a rush, like she was expecting them not to believe her. The three of them shared a glance around the room. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor.

“Is he dead?” Tim asked after a moment. They were all thinking the same thing, that the Joker hadn’t been seen in months even though he was out of Arkham.

“I don’t know?” She asked it like it was a question, her eyes coming up to meet Tim’s.

“Where’d you shoot him?”

“I didn’t check. I shot the gun in his general direction and then he fell over and Harley was screaming and I just grabbed Jason and got the hell out of there.”

“Wait, Harley was there too?” Dick asked in confusion. It was obvious that she didn’t have her story together, but the way that she was shaking and the fear in her voice told them that she was either an incredible actress, or that everything that she was saying was true. It seemed to be the latter.

“Yeah, just him and Harley, and the two dead guys. And me and Jason.”

“You carried Jason out of there?” Bruce asked and her eyes snapped to him.

“Not exactly. He was super drugged. He could stand, barely. I basically dragged him out of there and back to my car.”

There was another long moment of silence while they all took in the story. It was pretty hard to believe, with that video that the Joker had sent them, but Bruce wouldn’t put it past the Joker to have faked that. He should have seen it.

“How long ago did you say this was?” Dick finally broke the silence, frowning.

“Ummm like two months? Give or take,” she said and suddenly fury rose in Bruce’s chest.

“Why wasn’t I informed about this?” he demanded, making her tense up again.

“He wouldn’t let me take him to a hospital and then he passed out before he could tell me where to take him, so I brought him back to my apartment and did what I could for him. He was a mess. Especially when he woke up he was confused and…,” she put her hand to her throat unconsciously. “It took him a while to calm down.”

“Fine. But why didn’t you bring him here when he did? I’m sure he was asking for us,” Bruce said, his voice getting louder as he got more worked up.

“Asking? Mr. Wayne, every time I brought up his family, or Batman, he went into a full blown panic attack. He still does. He makes it sound like you practically handed him to the Joker,” she was suddenly looking straight back at Bruce, her expression was fierce, like she was ready to fight them all if what she said was true.

“Of course that’s not true!” Bruce yelled. “How dare you even imply--”

“B!” Nightwing said, shooting Bruce a dangerous look and he struggled to get his temper under control.

“You had no right to keep him from me. Even if he didn’t want it, I should have been informed. Who the hell do you think you are?” Bruce said, glaring at her. His voice was still hard, but at least he wasn’t yelling anymore.

“Bruce, I’m sure she didn’t mean--” Dick started, ever the peacekeeper.

“No, he has a point,” she said, the fight suddenly leaving her at his words. She slowly lifted her left hand, still balled into a tight fist like it had been since they started this conversation, and then, after a second of thought, deliberately uncurled her fingers. She turned her palm up, so that they could see her fingers. It looked like they had just been dipped in fresh blood, but there was nothing on them.

“You can’t be saying--” Bruce’s voice faltered as he stared at the mark.

Dick, from beside her, took her hand into his as if in a trance. “I’ve never seen one in person before,” he whispered and his thumb brushed over it. She shivered and let out an uncomfortable noise and he immediately let go, murmuring a quiet “sorry”.

“It’s okay. I would’ve come to you sooner, but I-- I figured he was safe with me. I was trying to help him through it. We were making progress.” Her voice took on a bitter edge.

“And now we’ll get to why you’re here?” Tim asked, voice level while Bruce and Dick looked like they were struggling to figure out their emotions.

“Yeah. He’s been... disappearing lately. He wasn’t telling me what he was up to, but then we got a visitor after work today.” The focus was all on her again and she ducked her head while she talked.

“Visitor?” Tim prompted when no one else said anything.

“I didn’t recognize him. He was big, silver hair, eyepatch, accent?” She described. They all got a dark look on their face.

“Deathstroke,” Tim said seriously. She just shrugged. “What did he want?”

“He wanted to… meet me? It sounded like they were working together. He said that the job had ‘moved up to tonight’ and then Jason basically begged me to stay indoors for the next few days.”

They all shared another dark glance between them while the girl looked around at each of them, waiting for someone to explain what was happening.

“Did they say what the job was?” Bruce asked after a moment. She just shook her head.

“No, Jason just said it was ‘something he had to do’,” she said, making air quotes with her soulmark flashing and distracting. “You’re… going to help him, right?”

“Of course we will,” Tim said without hesitation at her wide-eyed look. “Is there anything else? Anything at all that could point us in the right direction for what is going to happen? Literally just anything unusual that you remember from the day?”

She hummed to herself unconsciously as she thought for a moment. “Yeah… there was something strange. My water was turned off when I got back. I meant to go check it, but-- Oh! They said that the formula was ready early, but I didn’t know what that meant.”

“The water plant,” Dick said, and the rest of them knew that the strange gang patterns that they had observed around there had to be related. “He can’t be working with…” They all stood up like they were going to leap into action that second.

“Stay here, Y/N. Alfred will take care of you until we get back,” Bruce commanded in a tone that left little room for argument.

“Okay…,” she said, but she was biting her lip like she wasn’t sure. “Tim?” Tim looked over at her, a little surprised that she was addressing him.

“Yeah?”

“You should… be careful. I forgot to say that in the room in Arkham there were a lot of pictures of Batman and Robin hung up. Not Jason. You. He… wasn’t pleased,” she warned and Bruce felt shame rise in his chest and Tim looked down guiltily. If the Joker was still alive, Bruce was going to tear him apart limb by limb. They all three left the room in a hurry to get to the cave and start with the rescue mission.

---

They all left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You hoped to God that this had been the right thing to do and that you weren’t going to hurt Jason further. You knew, you knew that Jason wasn’t evil. He had just gone through hell and needed help getting better. Help that you were reasonably sure that you had been giving before this all blew up. Who knew how low his mind would have sunk without you there for him the past few months. You hoped that Bruce and his kids understood that, and that they would bring him back to you soon. You hoped that Jason would understand that you had gone to them because you cared about him. You knew that he probably wouldn’t see it that way.

“Miss Y/N, I have the tea that I promised you,” Alfred’s voice came through the doorway, startling you. The older man came and put an ornate teacup in front of you and a tray on the table filled with honey, tea, and biscuits.

“Thank you, Alfred,” you said quietly and grabbed the delicate cup, terrified that you might break it. You took a sip and even though you weren’t always one for tea, had to admit that it was exactly what you needed right now.

“You made the right choice, coming here to them. They care deeply about Master Todd,” Alfred said, and you immediately started to wonder whether the man had telepathy.

“I hope so,” you sighed. “I might feel better if it were you going after him, y’know. You were the only one that he shared good memories of.”

“I assure you that there are many fond memories of Master Todd in this household, he just has to be reminded,” Alfred said comfortingly.

“I can see why he respects you so much, you seem good at knowing what people need,” you say after another moment. “Also your cooking. He really liked your cooking, and I feel like I have to thank you because I really liked his cooking and he said you taught him.” Your lips twitched up into a fond smile, remembering nights spent in the kitchen together.

“I am honored that he remembered what I taught him, and that you enjoyed it together,” Alfred said, giving you a smile of his own. “It is good to know that he had someone special watching over him while he was away. Better to know that someone is watching over him now. Soulmate bonds are historically something that only shows up when needed.”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to elaborate, but he just took your empty teacup and walked back out, leaving you alone again to ponder his words. You were going to go crazy, just sitting here alone wondering what was happening without you. You couldn’t shake the nervous energy that you had and you got up and began to pace around the room. Alfred said that you had been right in coming here, but you weren’t so sure. Jason didn’t want to be near his family, he had made that much clear to you. He didn’t want it, but it was clear to you that that was what he needed. To see that his family cared about him. To know that they didn’t toss him aside thoughtlessly. You knew that they were going to have a hard time getting that through to him, though, with how long it had taken for him to open up partially to you, but how could you help? They were all out there, while you were stuck here, hoping that they would just magically work it all out. Yeah right, like that was going to happen. Not with Jason. You felt like even though it hadn’t been a long time, you knew Jason like the back of your hand. He was stubborn and angry and petty and hurt. But he was also kind and dorky and loyal and funny. You knew him like you knew yourself and it came to you all at once. You knew what he needed.

He needed you.

Your jacket and shoes were already neatly placed by the door when you rushed over and you silently thanked Alfred, still a little in awe of him. The dash to the water plant went by in a blur and sure enough you saw the batmobile parked out the front. You barely even turned off the engine before you were running into the building. The front door had been blasted open and you hesitated right outside of it. This was probably a bad idea. You had no idea what was going on in there and running in would probably only put you in the way of something horrible. But you didn’t hear anything inside, so you cautiously tiptoed your way in. It was dark, but you didn’t see any movement. Your heartbeat started to pick up. It was such a large building, with lots of large tanks and multiple levels. Now where were you supposed to go?

A couple of loud bangs answered your question for you and you looked around until you caught sight of some stairs. Whatever was happening was happening above you. You took a deep breath and ran over. Jason needed you. You kept repeating that over and over to give yourself courage as you took the stairs up as quietly as possible. The sounds of a struggle became clearer with every step.

“Jason, stop! You don’t have to do this, we can work this out, please!” The voice was Dick’s. Well, Nightwing’s. You crouched down and took a peek at what was going on in the room.

Nightwing was crouched over Robin, holding a hand to his own side which was steadily bleeding. Robin appeared to be passed out. Your heart twisted in fear at seeing them hurt. Standing in front of them with a raised gun was Jason. At least you were pretty sure that was him. It was the same body armor that you had seen, but his face was now covered with an intricate helmet. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the room.

“Step aside, Dick. I need to finish up here. Don’t want to keep Bruce waiting,” Jason said, stepping closer, pointing the gun right between Nightwing’s eyes. His voice was modified through the helmet, coming out in a garbled mess, but his anger and hurt made its way through to you.

Your feet were moving before you could even think about it. A few steps in, you kicked something and all eyes in the room went to you. You reached them in a few more steps and you could see Jason get even more tense, if that was possible. When you reached him, you stopped right next to him, looking up into the helmet.

“...Jason?” you asked, suddenly unsure of yourself now that you had gotten here. It was hard to focus on his face when it was some sort of screen and your voice came out more than a little afraid.

A hand came up to the helmet and there was a hissing sound as it opened to reveal your soulmate’s face. He looked incredibly pissed off and you couldn’t help but to crumple a little at his expression.

“Dammit Y/N. I told you not to leave the apartment.” His words were pissed off too. His voice was making it clear that it was a huge struggle for him to remain even this calm. You hardly even recognized his voice even without the modifier. You looked between him and Nightwing, who had also tensed up like he was expecting Jason to attack you. The gun was still leveled at his face and he kept his eyes trained on it.

“What the hell are you doing, Jason? This isn’t you,” you said, keeping your voice soft and stepping even closer. Everything about the situation was screaming at you to run away, but you couldn’t be afraid of Jason. He wouldn’t hurt you. Right?

“The fuck do you know? I was with the Joker for longer than I’ve been with you because of these bastards,” Jason spat, still in a rage. He readjusted his grip on the gun. Nightwing’s eyes darted over to you for a second, his face showing clear concern. You prayed that he trusted you to handle this.

“I know you, Jason. I don’t care if it hasn’t been a long time. I’m supposed to know you better than anyone, and I know that you know that it wasn’t their fault,” you said, then ever so slowly moved so that you were in front of him, with Nightwing to your back. You reached out and placed your shaking hand on his wrist. You weren’t sure that this was going to work until he let you slowly push his arm down, getting him to lower the gun off of Nightwing. You weren’t sure whether it was because your words got to him, or because he wasn’t about to kill Dick in cold blood right in front of you, but you would take the win either way.

“And it’s not Batman’s fault, either,” you continued, still staring straight into his eyes. You finally started seeing something other than red hot anger in his eyes. It was hard to pin down exactly what it was that you were seeing, but he seemed to be snapping out of his trance the longer that you were talking to him.

“Then who’s fault is it?!” Jason yelled, causing you to flinch at the sudden change in volume. You had to stop yourself from taking a few steps back from him, your heart rate and breathing picking up further.

“I don’t know, Jason! Maybe no one’s. Maybe everyone’s. This isn’t the answer, though. You need to end this. Right now.” Your voice was shaking, but you kept your eyes on his. You tried to make it crystal clear that you weren’t going to back down, and that you weren’t going to forgive him if he didn’t.

There was a silence for a minute while you two stared each other down, but then it was interrupted by the sound of multiple distant explosions, though still loud enough to startle you. Jason snapped to look through a broken window on the other side of the room and you followed his gaze to see movement in the large room below. It was dark, but you thought you could make out at least a dozen figures fighting with plenty of gunshots that echoed around the walls. If you squinted, you thought that one of the figures could have been Batman.

“Shit. Stay here,” he ordered suddenly, then strode over to the corner of the room where there was the large bag stashed. You watched in shock as he pulled a rather nasty looking rifle out of the bag and expertly assembled it. Then he jumped up onto the edge of the broken window and pulled out something that looked like a grappling gun.

“Wait! Where are you going?” you called after him, but he didn’t even look back at you.

“I’m ending this,” he called, and then he jumped.

No, you had to go after him. You started toward the window, but then a sound behind you made you remember the other occupants of the room. You spun around and saw that Nightwing was now focusing on Robin, who was starting to open his eyes. Oh thank God he wasn’t dead. You sank to a crouch in front of them.

“Are you guys okay?” you asked, your voice sounded strange to you.

“We’ll be fine. And… thanks for that,” Nightwing said, putting a hand on your shoulder carefully, and you realized that you were shaking. Scratch that, you were crying. You didn’t even notice until now. You half-heartedly wiped at your eyes.

“You’re hurt. Let me take a look,” you said, trying to distract yourself from what you were sure was coming and you gently took Nightwing’s hand away from his side. Bullet wound. And Tim looked like he might have a concussion by the unfocused way he was staring at you. They didn’t seem like they were dying, but they were both probably out of commission for the rest of the night. You cursed under your breath. Someone had to go stop Jason from making a huge mistake. The sounds of gunshots outside still echoed and they felt like they were pounding against your skull.

“I’ve got to go--,” you started frantically, but Nightwing cut you off.

“No. I’m not going to let you run into the middle of a firefight. Help me over to the window,” Nightwing ordered and you let him lean on your as he stood up with a grunt. You winced, he really shouldn’t be moving around, especially if the bullet was still inside of him, but you two made it over to the window and looked down. The fighting had stopped, several bodies were laying on the ground, not moving. Batman was finishing up the rest of them when there was another explosion. Rubble and twisted pieces of equipment rained down on Batman and you gasped as Nightwing tensed beside you.

A figure, no, a monster, stepped from the shadows and as Batman was clawing his way out of the rubble. Any relief that you had that Batman was alright was immediately replaced with a fresh wave of fear as the figure hovered over the hero and then began dragging him across the room, quickly handcuffing him to one of the pipes. There were voices, but you couldn’t hear them over the pounding of the blood through your ears. Batman was going to die right now because you had failed.

“There,” Nightwing said quietly beside you and you looked up to where he was pointing to see Jason on one of the taller pieces of equipment, setting up a shot with the gun. Your heart stuttered as you stared at the scene, completely helpless to do anything about it. You felt Nightwing’s hand tighten around your shoulder and you glanced at him to see his eyes on you, looking concerned. You tore your gaze away from him and focused on the scene below. Why wasn’t Nightwing warning them? You needed to warn them. You tried to suck in a breath to scream, but you found that you couldn’t. You were too late anyway.

A loud gunshot pierced the room and Batman lurched forward. In an instant, the monster was on him, tearing him apart with its wicked claws. You felt like you were frozen to the spot, watching the gruesome scene in front of you and oh god, there was so much blood. So much blood. You had a brief flashback to another loud gunshot. You felt the gun kick in your hands and heard the abrupt cutting off of laughter. Then it started back up again. You looked for the gun in your hands, but there was nothing there. They were covered in blood. Batman’s blood. You had killed him. You…

Why was Nightwing just standing there staring at you like that? He had to get down there and help. You had to. You tried to tell him that, tell him anything, but no words would come out of your mouth. He approached you slowly (when had you moved?) and you registered that there was something in his hand. This was bad. Fear gripped you and you turned to get away, but he was faster. He grabbed you around the middle and then you felt a pinch at your neck. Everything went black.

When you came to, you noticed that you were in a bed, but it was too soft to be your own. It smelled clean and you were so comfortable that you never wanted the dream to end, but when you realized that you had no idea where you were you opened your eyes in a panic. It was light outside. You were in a really really nice room. Nicer than you had ever-- oh. You were probably back in the Wayne manor. You sat up and kicked the blankets off of you as you started to remember what had happened. The door opened.

“Ah, it’s good to see that you’re up, Ms. Y/N.” It was Alfred. He entered the room and set a glass of water down next to you on the bedside, which you immediately grabbed and downed, realizing how thirsty you were in that instant.

“Alfred! What happened? How did I get here? Is everyone okay?” The string of questions didn’t seem to phase the old man.

“Everyone is fine. Thanks, in part, to you I am told,” Alfred said with a small smile on his face.

“Everyone?” you asked, startled. Did he now know? You dropped your eyes. “Alfred--”

“Good morning, Y/N. How are you feeling?” Your blood froze.

Bruce Wayne stood in the doorway of the room, with a few scratches on his face and his arm in a sling, but otherwise well and very much alive.

“But-- How? You--,” you sputtered, still trying to piece together the fragments. You had been fairly sure that Batman had died last night. Could you have been wrong about it being Bruce Wayne?

“It’s alright. The confusion is normal, it’ll pass. There was quite a lot of airborne fear toxin in the water plant last night. You seem to have failed to inoculate yourself before rushing in to save us,” Bruce said, frowning down at you as you tried to remember.

“So… what actually happened then?” you asked after a moment.

“You talked Jason down. Scarecrow had me tied up and was about to inject me full of the same stuff, but then Jason shot the cuffs and I was able to take down Scarecrow. Nightwing had to sedate you so that we could bring you here. Robin and Nightwing are both going to be okay, they’re on bedrest for now.”

“And Jason?” you asked, searching Bruce’s eyes.

“He left right after he took the shot. Oracle’s swept the entire area, and the best guess that we have is that he left Gotham,” Bruce said with a shrug.

“Oh.” You took a moment to take it all in. You don’t remember when the fear toxin had hit you really. That whole situation had been stressful. But it seems like your memories of Jason shooting Batman were false. That was a huge relief. You were also furious at him. What was he thinking, working with Scarecrow? When you found him you were going to kill him.

“So. What happens now?” you asked, grateful that Bruce had seemed to understand that you had needed a moment to internally freak out over what had just happened.

Bruce sighed. “For now, we’re going to move you into a different apartment. One with better security. Not much else we can do now that you know so much. Someone will come and check on you regularly, but you can keep your job and schoolwork up. Of course, when Jason contacts you, you’ll use this to let us know.” He handed you a small metal box with just one button on it. You grabbed it hesitantly, running your fingers over the smooth edges.

“Uh huh,” you hummed noncommittally, but took the box anyway.

“Jason also always had a flair for ignoring orders.” There was a hint of laughter in Bruce’s eyes.

“Thank you for all this, Mr. Wayne. Really,” you said, trying to sound sincere. You may not give Jason to them, but you meant it when you said that you were grateful. You hoped that in time you could convince Jason to come back to his family willingly, but it was definitely going to be a long journey. You understood that he needed some time to clear his head after everything that had happened and you hoped that he could forgive you for essentially spilling all his secrets to the people that he was keeping then from. You knew that Jason would come back to you eventually, even if it took a while. You knew it because you needed him. And he needed you too.

Chapter Text

You opened your eyes to find yourself in a dark, cramped space. Blinking a few times to make sure that you’re seeing everything correctly through a very disorienting haze, you vaguely realize that you’re on your hands and knees in a long metal tube… what the fuck? The last thing that you remember was waiting on an order in the diner. You had just closed your eyes for a moment to get some well-deserved rest before the bell would inevitably wake you up to get back to work and now you were… somewhere. Okay. As your awareness slowly started to increase, you realized that what woke you up was not the ringing of the order-up bell, but the loud screech of some sort of alarm. It pierced your already pounding headache. You saw that there was light coming from in front of you. That seemed like a good way to go so that you could get out of this tube and try to figure out where you were. Good plan.

You crawl over to the light, realizing along the way how groggy you are. You’d been feeling sick for a while now, so that was no surprise, but your headache had only gotten worse with your brief nap and your body felt thick, like you were moving through syrup. When you finally get to the light, you piece together that you’re in an air duct. It made sense with the metal walls around you and the grating that covered the hole where the light was coming from. It made sense that it was an air duct, but why the hell were you in an air duct? The pounding of your head was starting to lessen just enough for you to start to really panic. Looking out of the grating there was a hallway like nothing you’d ever seen before. It was completely metal with sliding doors lining its length, each one with a keypad on the side to unlock. There was no sign of anyone that you could see.

Panic started to really set in, and you decided that you didn’t want to be in this duct anymore. You pushed your hands against it (since when were you wearing gloves?) in an attempt to dislodge the grating so that you could jump down to the hallway, but it didn’t budge. There was just enough room for you to maneuver yourself so that your feet were toward the grate and along the way you had to struggle with something on your back attached to your neck. Okay, so you were also wearing a cape of some sort? Looking down your whole outfit had been changed, but you decided that that could be something you thought about once you were in the hallway and you braced yourself against the duct walls and kicked as hard as you could against the grate. It fell outward and onto the metal floor with a loud crash that had you frozen for a couple of minutes, waiting for someone to have noticed. When no sound answered the crash, you eased yourself out of the duct and dropped the few feet to the floor, landing more gracelessly than you thought you would.

You blinked a little bit in the harsh lighting of the hallway, finally able to see fully and then took stock of yourself. The first thing you noticed (that you really should have noticed before) was that there was something attached to your face. You pulled your gloved hands to your eyes, trying to pry it away, but it didn’t budge easily, clinging stubbornly around your eyes, though you could still see through it rather well. You gave up after a second and looked down to the rest of your outfit. Immediately your mouth dropped open in shock. You were wearing a pretty good approximation of the Robin costume. Complete with the cape and the belt and the combat boots and…

Your hands flew up to your chest. You felt the lean muscle under the kevlar and you weren’t exactly a double d cup size at 16, but the pronounced lack of anything there had you even more confused. You let your awareness of your body continue downward and…

This wasn’t your body. The realization shocks you more than waking up in a random air duct and you struggle to draw a breath through lungs that aren’t your own. This isn’t happening. You actually pinch yourself to wake up from this weird-ass dream that you were having, but nothing changes except a dull pain that shoots up your arm. Okay, so not a dream. What then? You had absolutely no idea what was going on, one moment you were safe and in the diner and you and then the next you were in an air duct dressed like Robin. The only possible explanation that you can come up with is the one that’s slowly creeping to the forefront of your disoriented brain.

Soulmates. At around age 16 everyone starts getting little flashes of what their soulmate is thinking and feeling in high-stress situations. It’s supposed to just be something small, like feeling slightly angry when your soulmate is fighting with someone, or happy when they’re going through something good. The more compatible the two people, the more of the others’ thoughts and feelings can go through the bond. And if you’re right about this, you just switched places entirely with your soulmate. You’d never heard of anything remotely like that before, but it was the only thing that you thought could explain the sudden switch. Damn you and your super compatible soulmate, now what were you supposed to do?

You were interrupted out of your thoughts by the sound of footsteps coming your way, somehow louder than the alarms. You backup a little, trying to decide what to do about that. What could your soulmate have possibly been doing in an air vent dressed like Robin? Well, if he was hiding from them in there then sticking around out here in the open was probably a bad idea, you decided and then whirled around to run the opposite direction. There was no time to try and put the air vent back up to cover your tracks.

A few steps into your run, you stumbled hard, just barely catching yourself from tumbling to the ground. This body was bigger than what you were used to. Bigger and a lot stronger. You ran away from the noises choosing your path at random for a few minutes and you weren’t even out of breath when you finally stopped in a dead end hallway that offered reasonable concealment. All of the hallways in this place looked the same. Thank God that you didn’t run into anyone else while you were running from whoever was coming, since that would have just defeated the purpose. But now what? You had no idea where you were. Hell, you had no idea who you were. You couldn’t be the real Robin, could you? The costume seemed pretty elaborate…

“No way,” you reassured yourself, surprised and not surprised that your voice came out completely alien to you. Just like everything else right now. It was all starting to overwhelm you and you tried to just focus on breathing as you leaned your back to the cold metal wall and slowly sank down. You tried to hold back your tears, mostly because you weren’t sure if they would get through the mask and you didn’t want your eyeballs to drown. You were about to give over to the wallowing completely when something on your wrist began to vibrate silently. With unsure, large hands, you pressed the flashing button on your left glove, not sure what else to do. After a brief moment a voice came through the glove.

“.... Robin?” Oh God, it sounded like your own voice. Or at least, how your voice sounded in recordings. It couldn’t be, could it?

“Robin, listen. If I’m right, you just woke up in my body and you’re in a vent. Stay there,” your voice came through.

“Umm, too late for that?” you talked quietly, hoping that it would go through. Okay, great. Looks like your soulmate woke up in your body and called you. Now he could explain where the fuck you were.

“What? Where are you?” it was strange hearing your own voice sound panicked.

“I don’t know. I got out of the vent and then someone was coming and then I ran,” you explained, trying your best to keep his voice even. You’re not sure you succeeded. There was a muffled curse on the other side of the line.

“Are you safe? Did you see anyone else?”

“No, there’s no one. And how am I supposed to know if I’m safe, what the hell are you doing here and why wouldn’t it be safe?” By now you were kind of just in denial. All signs had huge shining arrows pointing to the fact that your soulmate was Robin and he was out somewhere doing his vigilante schtick.

“Okay I’m going to need you to listen to me very carefully. I think that we’re soulmates and we just switched bodies fully. I’m not sure how long this is going to last so I need you to do a few things for me. Think you can do that?” Your voice was coming out like he was trying to calm you down, but just the fact that it was your own damn voice was ensuring that you wouldn’t.

“Do I really have a choice?” you muttered.

“By now you’ve probably figured out that I’m Robin. My team and I are currently infiltrating a secret LexCorp base out in Alaska. Has anyone tried to contact you through the mind-link or earpiece yet?”

“What’s a mind-link?”

“I’m going to take that as a no. Alright, no link. Radios are silent. Enemies all around you. Let’s see… Hit the button next to the one that you used to answer this call,” he instructed.

You did and regretted it immediately when light flashed up in your face, nearly blinding you. What was the goal there? You spun your hand around so that you weren’t looking straight into the light and when your vision cleared you saw that the light was actually forming a holographic display. You oriented it to where you could see what was on the display and you saw that it was blueprints of what you hoped was this building.

“What do you see?” The voice on the other end seemed impatient.

“It’s a map,” you said back stupidly.

“Great. Where are you? Find the little red dot.”

You looked. It was easy enough to spot. You squinted at the writing that was closest to the dot. “I’m just above where it says B11 on the map,” you informed him, not sure whether that would mean anything to him or not. He hummed contemplatively using your voice.

“Do you see D13 on the map? It should be to the right.”

You spotted it. “Yeah?”

“Wall- Kid Flash should be right in that room. I’m going to need you to get over there without being spotted. Then just explain what’s happening to him and he’ll take care of you.” The voice sounded unsure. Your eyes quickly charted a route between the two points.

“Why can’t I just radio for help from here?” you ask, remembering what he said about having an earpiece and then feeling something fit snugly in your ear. The voice over the line sighed.

“Because if Aqualad knows what’s happening then he’ll abort the whole mission. This is important, we’re gathering intel that could save lives. If you can just get to Kid Flash then we can still salvage the mission. If you don’t think you can, or you run into trouble, then you can press the button on your earpiece and call an SOS and the team will come find you.”

You chewed your(his?) lip trying to decide. The path seemed straightforward on paper. Left, right, right, middle, left, right. But what if you ran into someone on the way? But also, what about the potential lives that he said this mission was supposed to save? This had better be worth it.

“I… think I can get to Kid Flash,” you said, though your new voice sounded uncertain.

“Okay good. Remember, call if you run into any trouble. When you get there, can you do me another favor? Try not to let anyone else in on what’s happening. If you do it’ll get back to B and I’d rather not freak him out before we know what’s happening for sure.” The words came out in a rush, like he was feeling guilty about asking you. You were, however, all for the idea of not letting these strangers know that you were inhabiting the body of their teammate.

“Sure.” You clicked the map button again and it disappeared.

“Great, thanks,” Robin said, sounding relieved, like he thought that you were going to refuse. “KF will back you up, don’t worry. Just say that the migraine that you’ve been having is getting worse. I’ll stay on the line in case you need me, but silence is going to be our best bet.”

“No way! You’ve got to go finish my shift,” you said, suddenly remembering the other side of things that was your life.

“I think that this is a little more important--”

“No! I can’t lose that job, you have to! If I’m going to sneak around Lex Luthor’s Alaska getaway then I think you can handle 2 and a half more hours of being a waitress,” you snapped. He paused, like he was surprised.

“I don’t--”

“No deal. If you don’t go, then I’m radioing your team right now,” you said, completely serious. “If you ruin my life, then I’ll ruin yours.”

“Fine, geez. I’ll do it,” he relented. “Just be careful. Superboy should be drawing off most of the guards by now, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t any.”

“Oh, and after work you need to go pick up my little brothers at the south edge of Robinson Park. Jason and Tim. They’ll be waiting for you there. Make sure they’re safe. And same deal, try not to let them know you’re not me. It probably won’t work, but I don’t even want to think about what Tim would do if he found out. We can figure it all out later,” you spoke quickly into the gauntlet, starting to panic a little bit at how long you’ve been away from work. You needed to keep this job, potential death or not.

“Okay, okay. Just be careful. After the mission just tell KF you need to head back to Gotham and then you can come find me.” You heard an edge of worry in your own voice.

“I will,” you said, trying to reassure him. “Now go back to work before Linda gets too mad at me.” You clicked on the same button again and the line went dead like you hoped. Great. Now you just had to navigate through a base full of guards as a vigilante without being seen. How hard could it be?

---

Dick stared down at the phone in shock. Did she just hang up on him? This whole day was just littered with surprises, from getting the call that the team was going on a short notice mission to Alaska to waking up in the body of his soulmate. This was what he got for dozing off in the middle of a recon mission, but he’d spent the better part of an hour in that vent waiting for the signal and with the headache that he’d had all day it was way easier to just wait for the signal to rouse him than sit there alone in this thoughts. And now there was some girl wandering around a mission in his body that had no clue where she was or what she was doing. Just perfect. He wondered for a moment about what it would mean for him if she died in his body, but then quickly banished the thought. It was a low risk mission, and he had a low risk role in it, otherwise he would have immediately called Batman to go extract the team ASAP.

Ugh, Batman. Bruce was probably going to pull him from ANY missions once he found out that this had happened. Dick didn’t know how long this was going to last (hopefully not forever), and when it did end there wasn’t any guarantee that it wouldn’t happen again. There wasn’t anything that said that it would happen again, either, but Batman would never see it that way. For now, the less everyone knew the better until Dick could figure out a few things for certain.

But back to the matter at hand. He had woken up in the back room of a small cafe, wearing what he assumed was a waitress uniform complete with an apron and clipboard and everything, but the body had been all wrong and… He stopped thinking about it too hard. Someone had been trying to get his attention by calling out an unfamiliar name and in a rush he had told them that he’d be right back and dashed out of the first door that he saw. His voice was distinctly not his own.

The door had opened up to a small street in front of the cafe and he took a moment to take stock of what was happening. If he had woken up in her body, then it was pretty reasonable to assume that the opposite was holding true, which was unfortunate considering that he had been in an enemy base a few moments ago. At least he could tell that he was in Gotham based on the buildings in the distance. It was nighttime and there were few people out. He spotted a payphone on the corner and hurried over to it. He had called his emergency line and had what turned out to be a rather frustrating conversation with… himself. Hearing his voice over the line sounding disoriented and scared had been unnerving to say the least. It brought him to where he was now, standing in the booth, holding the dead phone and wondering what had just happened.

With unsure hands (how were they so small?) he placed the phone back into the receiver and walked back toward the diner. She had been adamant that he go back and finish her shift for her. As much as he really didn’t want to do that, fair was fair, right? If he was asking her to complete his mission, he could do hers too. How hard could it be to play waitress for the night? He was Robin, he could handle this.

---

You crept through the hallways of the base, repeating the directions that you had seen over and over again in your mind so that you wouldn’t forget and take a wrong turn. All of the hallways looked eerily the same to you in this place and it was unsettling how quiet everything was. Aside from the footsteps earlier, you had yet to hear a sound other than the blaring alarm and the ones that you made yourself. Whoever that had been had obviously missed the vent that you had left in the hallway or you were sure that there would have been someone looking for you. Lucky.

Continuing down the hallway you were on the third to last turn before you would get to where Robin had indicated that Kid Flash was when your luck ran out. You turned the corner and came face to face with two armed guards. There was an almost comical moment where the three of you just stood and stared at each other, but then the two of them seemed to come to their senses and drew their weapons, pointing them at you.

“Halt!” one of them commanded in typical guard fashion.

Your body seemed to move on instinct as the guns pointed at you and you danced back around the corner. Your hand flew to your belt and grabbed something off of it. You looked down to see something sharp and circular in your hand. You didn’t have time to ponder your actions as the two men came around the corner after you, firing. You panicked and let instinct take over again, which made you throw the disk at one of them and then charge straight toward the other. Trusting your body to do what it would, you planted your feet and crashed your fist into the closest guy's face and were a bit surprised when he fell limp immediately. You had never been that strong. The other guy seemed to have recovered from the thrown disk (which you still weren’t sure what it had done exactly) and you heard a distinct gunshot as you turned to face him. There was a stinging pain on your side, but your body was already moving into a perfectly practiced kick that sent the gun in his hands flying down the hallway. You made eye contact with the man for just a moment before he turned and ran off, leaving his buddy groaning on the floor.

Jogging to get down the last couple of turns, you noticed that while your mind was near-hysterical over what had just happened, your body didn’t feel any different than it had before. You guess that you should really be surprised that Robin’s body would handle adrenaline well, but the conflicting signals were definitely confusing.

You were one turn away from safety when you ran into someone else again. More literally this time. You felt the collision push all of the air out of your lungs as you fell backward, not able to catch yourself. Whoever it was must’ve been going in a full sprint when they had turned the corner. You looked up, fully expecting to be looking down the barrel of another gun. Instead you just saw a bunch of yellow.

“Rob!? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in position for extraction. Miss M said that you dropped from the mind link and Aqualad sent me to go check on you, is everything okay?” The voice was talking almost too fast for you to understand as the boy reached down and pulled you to your feet. This was probably Kid Flash, based on the symbol across his chest.

“I’m not Robin,” you replied, wanting to get right to the point. He opened his mouth in confusion and you added, “I’m his soulmate. We switched bodies. He told me to go find you and to not tell the team about this.”

If it was possible, those green eyes got even wider in surprise. There was a moment of silence where he looked skeptical, like you were going to add ‘Just kidding’ and laugh at him, but you just stood and stared back, not really knowing what else to do.

“Alright. Okay. Weird,” Kid Flash finally relented and then grabbed your hand and pulled you back the way he had come from. It struck you that he was taking this remarkably well, but then again he’d probably seen weirder things. You let yourself be led to the only open door that you had seen the whole time you’d been there. D13. It was a chemistry lab and he closed the door behind you before letting go and walking over to one of the computers.

“I’m still downloading the files. I already let the team know that you’re with me for the rest of the mission. After this we can go back and clear the exit for them and then we’re home free,” he explained, typing a few different commands on the computer. You nodded mutely, not really sure what to say to that.

“How’d you talk to Rob?” he asked over his shoulder, throwing you a calculating glance.

“He called me on my wrist computer thing. Don’t ask me,” you answered, indicating the glove. Kid Flash snorted, amused.

“What’s your name?”

“What’s yours?” you shot back, giving him a glare that you weren’t sure showed through the mask you were wearing.

“Fair enough,” he said, focusing back on the screen. “Okay, that’s it. Let’s go. Follow me closely. I don’t want my best friend’s hot bod to get shredded on my watch.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment, but followed in step right behind him as he ran out the door, obviously slowing himself down so that you could keep up on your unsure feet. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, turning down a couple of hallways and then he came up to a larger door with a small podium to the right.

“Give me your arm,” he said casually, not waiting for your approval before grabbing your left arm and hitting a button so that the display came up. He pulled a cord out of somewhere on your wrist and plugged that into a port on the podium. The display started taking in data and Kid Flash reached around you and hit a few keys on the keyboard that had materialized and then tapped a few things on the display. You just sat there and stared, barely taking any of it in. Really, you just wanted to be done so that you could leave. A sense of frustration was growing over you, and it took you a moment to realize that it must be your soulmate’s. You pushed it down as far as you could since that was the last thing that you wanted to deal with right now.

“There. All the doors should be open. You really lucked out, this was one of the easiest missions that we’ve ever been on. You should be glad you didn’t possess Robin last week in Bialya. That was one crazy mission. How do you feel about alligators?” He gave you a lopsided smile and then reached up to pull his goggles down over his eyes. “Now watch and learn as I single-handedly beat all the bad guys and save my best friend’s soulmate,” he said cockily, then hit one more button on the display. The doors in front of you began to slowly open and once there was just enough of a gap for him to squeeze through, there was a puff of air and he vanished.

You crept to the side, not wanting to be standing in the middle of the doorway when it opened, but couldn’t resist peeking out when you had the chance. Kid Flash was standing in the middle of the room, holding an armful of weapons, ignoring the fact that there were about ten men lying on the ground around him, groaning or knocked out. You cautiously walked into the room and looked around as he threw the weapons on the floor. It was an aircraft hangar with one of the walls fully open, like it was in a cave. You shivered a little in the cold air.

Kid Flash gave a deep bow, but your attention was caught by something moving to his right. One of the men that wasn’t knocked out had pulled out a small handgun from somewhere and was aiming it at the superhero. Panic shot through you and before you could even think, your hand was doing that instinctive thing again, pulling out a disk and throwing it with a flick of your wrist. It embedded itself into the man’s upper arm and then promptly electrocuted him. The gun clattered to the floor.

Suddenly Kid Flash was right in front of you.

“Whoa, nice throw. How’d you do that?” he asked, sounding impressed.

“Instinct?” you said, not really having a better answer for him.

“I’ll remember to thank Robin for throwing about a billion of those in training when I see him,” he teased. “Okay so the team is going to meet us here. If Robin doesn’t want them to know anything you’re gonna have to play up the sick angle. Rob was feeling out of it this morning, headache. Don’t say too much or they’ll figure it out. Just let me do the talking.”

“Do you ever not do the talking?” you muttered, causing him to laugh.

“See, you’ve got your Robin impression down already.”

“Robin, KF! Into the bioship, now! We’re about to have company,” a voice rang out in command. You whirled around to see that another door into the hangar had opened and three more people came running toward you. You vaguely recognized the speaker as Aqualad. Kid Flash grabbed you by the arm again and dragged you over to-- wait when had that gotten there? Where a second ago there had been clear space, a ship had materialized. It was black and red and there was a hatch down that Kid Flash was leading you to. You were too shocked to put up resistance as he pushed you up the ramp and then into one of the chairs, giving you a look that said, remember what I told you.

A few seconds later, the rest of the team was in the ship as well and you couldn’t help but turn around and stare at them a little. There was Aqualad, a girl in green that you hadn’t seen before, and a large boy wearing a black t-shirt with the Superman symbol on it. As you looked, a green-skinned girl seemed to materialize out of thin air, just like the ship. You had to stop yourself from jumping in surprise at that.

“Robin, are you okay? Miss Martian informed me that you dropped off the link part way through the mission,” Aqualad asked, his voice even and calming. You shared a quick glance with Kid Flash, then answered.

“It must be the headache. It’s been getting worse.” You tried your best to keep your voice even, though you were never the best liar.

“Yeah, you’ve been seeming pretty out of it, Rob,” Kid Flash agreed easily.

“I see. When we arrive you should go to the med bay and get yourself looked at,” Aqualad suggested as the ship began to rise and head out of the cave.

“Will do,” you replied, crossing your fingers and hoping that that was the right answer. The team all just shot you a look, but didn’t comment. Instead, they started their mission reports, with Kid Flash giving yours for you, which you were grateful for.

“You should get some rest, Rob,” Kid Flash said to you after everyone was done with the reports. “It’ll be a long flight.”

“Yeah,” you said and then rested your head back on the chair. Maybe if you got some sleep you’d wake up from this nightmare back in your own body.

---

Dick couldn’t wait to get the apron off at the end of the shift. That had been two and a half hours that he never wanted to relive ever again. When he had gone back into the cafe, he received an angry lecture from Linda, the manager, about how he had run off in the middle of his shift and then she had immediately shoved a tray full of plates at him. The only thing that had saved him from toppling them all on the floor was that apparently this body was used to it and used muscle memory to balance it. She had told him to take the food to table seven, which would have been easy enough if he had known where table seven was. He had chosen his best guess (the cafe wasn’t all that big) and then when they informed him that that wasn’t their food he tried again until he found the correct table. Going from there, he could reasonably figure out the table numbers and he basically just continued doing what he intuitively knew that a waitress did, wincing internally every time his voice came out and it wasn’t his own.

The worst part was the customers. They ranged from civil to downright rude and considering the time of night that it was, it wasn’t really surprising in Gotham that he was sure that he had served at least three known gang members. One particularly drunk man that came in even leaned over to slap Dick’s ass as he was walking by and he had to do a full count to ten to stop himself from breaking the man’s wrist. All in all, he wasn’t sure how on Earth his soulmate tolerated this job. Or even how she fit it in. From the brief look in the mirror that he had gotten she was around his age which meant that she probably had school in the morning and then still worked the night shift.

He was reasonably sure about that because of how exhausted he had felt this whole time, too. He was light-headed and felt weak all over and his stomach was twisting into knots of pain. On top of everything, he still hadn’t managed to shake the headache that he had had when he was in his own body. Through it all, Linda seemed to be watching him like a hawk, reminding him to smile. He would take going on a mission to a night like this any day and when Linda told him that the shift was up, he almost cried in relief.

After hanging up his apron next to a couple of others, he winced as he saw Linda heading toward him. She shoved a thin roll of bills at him.

“Here’s tonight’s pay. I subtracted the appropriate amount for your little unsupervised break in the middle and for somehow forgetting which table you were at. Do better tomorrow, Y/N.” She left.

Dick looked at the bills in his hand. For what he had deduced was a five hour shift he had only gotten $35? That wasn’t even minimum wage in Gotham. Not to mention Linda had been taking the tips left at the tables. He had assumed that she would give them to him at the end of the night, but it looked like he had no such luck. Not knowing any better, he shoved the bills into his pocket and turned to leave out the back.

“Wait, Y/N, aren’t you forgetting a few things?” a voice called, and Dick turned back to see Jack, the cook, waving at him. Jack had been nice to him during the shift. Dick didn’t want to say too much to reveal that he wasn’t actually Y/N, but after Linda had yelled at him, Jack had made sure that he was okay and had even snuck him some fries when Linda wasn’t looking.

Now he was holding out a backpack and two to-go containers out and so Dick walked back over to him, accepting what was probably Y/N’s stuff.

“Geez, you should probably get some rest if you’re forgetting this. You look dead on your feet, girl. I’m sure those two boys of yours wouldn’t appreciate it if you spaced and left dinner,” Jack said, looking over at Dick, concerned. Dick was more concerned about the phrasing of that. That wasn’t typically how people referred to brothers.

“Thanks, Jack. Yeah, I’ll get some rest,” Dick said, slinging the backpack over his shoulder and then finally getting to walk out into the night air. The food in his hands served as a reminder that he now had to go meet his soulmate’s brothers at Robinson Park. It took a second to establish where he was, but he knew every inch of Gotham by now and quickly oriented himself to walk briskly down the streets toward the park. The whole time he was thinking that if he were Robin right now he would definitely swoop down from the roof to lecture a young girl walking down these streets alone at this hour, but for now there was nothing that he could do but put his head down and continue. The few people that he passed on the way did likewise, to his relief. It wasn’t helping that a healthy amount of adrenaline and panic had been coming through his new soulmate link all night. It made him jumpy, even though he knew he wasn’t the one feeling that.

He approached the edge of the park, realizing that Y/N’s instructions had been a little bit vague. Seeing no one at a first glance, he decided to walk along the edge of the park and look for the two boys, who, again, shouldn’t be anywhere near this dangerous area alone in the dark. He quickly came up to a bench under one of the few working lights and put down the food in favor of taking off the backpack, intending to dig around until he found her phone so that he could call them instead of wandering around searching. He almost didn’t see the two small figures melt out of the darkness.

“You’re early,” the larger of the two stated, sounding reluctant through his thick Gotham accent.

“You brought food!” the second one said, happiness obvious in his voice.

The lamp illuminated the two boys and Dick took a moment to look them over for any information that he could. They were both scrawny, all elbows and knees and looked almost too thin. The larger one was just below his height, which was shorter than he was used to, and had dark black hair above startling green eyes. He had his face tilted slightly away, but that didn’t completely hide the blossoming bruise that covered his right side. His eyes met Dick’s like a challenge, but Dick could see behind that there was guilt. From the way he was standing that wasn’t his only injury. Dick would place him at around 11-12 years old. The younger one couldn’t be more than 9, but the sharpness of his ice-blue eyes made him seem older. He also had black hair and was looking longingly at the boxes on the bench. The state of their clothes matched his own worn down outfit.

“Yeah, Jack gave me some extras, take them,” Dick said cautiously, trying to play the part of someone that he didn’t know. The little one didn’t even hesitate, plopping down on the bench with his backpack and opening up one of the containers to reveal cooling pancakes and eggs. The other one just stared at him, as if expecting something.

“What happened to you?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at him and giving him the disapproving look that he obviously expected.

“A few of us were just roughing around. It ain’t no deal,” the kid said, trying to act tough.

“I heard that Jason was out with Jimmy jacking tires again,” what had to now be Tim said through a mouthful of pancake. Jason threw him a dirty glare.

“No one asked you, twerp,” Jason bit back hotly.

“Y/N told you not to go out with them again. And it looks like you didn’t even get anything before you got caught,” Tim said, intelligent eyes roaming over Jason’s face.

“You shut your mouth, brat, or I’ll make you look ten times worse,” Jason said and lunged for Tim, but Dick caught him with an arm around his middle. With a lot less strength than he was used to, Dick hauled the kid away from the other and held him at arm’s length by the shoulders.

“Don’t listen to Timmy, Y/N, he’s full of shit. Here,” Jason said and then shoved his hand in his pocket, coming out with a handful of small bills.

“So where’d you get that?” Dick sighed, though from the conversation it was obvious where it had come from.

“Found it,” Jason said, glaring at him as though daring him to challenge. “ And lucky I did. We need it if we’re going over to the Willows tonight, like you said.”

“You’re lucky that you’re not spending the night in a cell,” Dick said, a little bit of Robin seeping into the unfamiliar voice.

“That rich asshole isn’t even going to care about a few tires,” Jason said, shrugging Dick’s hands off of him. “We needed that cash way more. I’m just helping you out since that bitch at the diner doesn’t pay you what you’re worth.”

Dick sighed, knowing that in Gotham this was a very slippery slope toward becoming one of the thugs that Robin had to take down and tie up on the wrong end of a murder scene. He wanted to say so, but logically he knew that the more he talked, the more likely that it would be discovered that he wasn’t who they thought he was and she had asked him to keep it quiet if possible.

“Let’s just eat,” Dick said, joining Tim on the bench and opening up the second box to find more breakfast food in there. He handed it toward Jason, who was looking a bit surprised, but followed and took the box.

“What about you?” Jason asked.

“I’m fine,” Dick lied, eyeing the way the boys’ clothes hung off their too-thin bodies. “Jack gave me some fries during my shift.” With the smell of food so close, Dick correctly identified the pain in his stomach as hunger pains, but he pushed them aside.

“No. I’m not eating a bite until you do,” Jason said, stubbornly. It was clear to Dick from the kid’s reaction that his soulmate had pulled this one before.

“Me either.” Dick looked up to see that Tim had stopped eating and was crossing his arms, glaring over at Dick in a show of solidarity with his brother. It was rather adorable.

“Fine,” Dick relented, pulling the food over so that they could both get to it and pull out a piece of toast. Jason kept an eye on him and made sure that they ate the food in equal parts for the rest of the meal. Dick took the relative silence of the meal to try and put together what he was finding out about his soulmate and their situation. She was living in Gotham, taking care of herself and her two brothers alone by the looks of it. But they really couldn’t be her brothers with how different they looked. Jason and his golden-tan skin and Tim’s pale complexion didn’t exactly hold up with how she herself looked. Jason also had that true-bred Gotham drawl, while Tim’s accent seemed closer to Bruce’s. He filed away this information in case it became relevant.

From the way that they both seemed extremely content to be sitting in Robinson Park eating dinner at what had to be past midnight, Dick could guess that they were living on the streets and not even going back to some sort of home or shelter. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence in Gotham, but whenever he and Bruce saw kids in this situation on patrol, they always stopped and made sure that they went to the proper authorities. Indeed, this spot on the bench was properly hidden from any patrol cars that came this way, and it seemed like both boys were on alert for any visitors, Jason especially. They didn’t want to be found.

Dick sighed. He didn’t know what he had been expecting when it came to his soulmate, but it certainly wasn’t this. The detective side of him wanted to start asking detailed questions and pull information out of the boys until he had a complete picture of the situation, but he was still trying to respect her wish of secrecy. Even now, Tim was shooting him suspicious glances as the silence stretched out. Dick was about to call him out on it when the small boy launched into an in-depth explanation about the different types of lightsaber fighting styles. Jason didn’t look like this was unusual so Dick just sat back and let the boy fill the silence while they ate.

When they were done, Jason announced that they should get going and Dick let the two boys take the lead, since he had no idea where they were going and he was trying to not let them know that. They headed over toward the docks, which had Dick on full alert for trouble, but the path that Jason was picking was admittedly a good one. They really knew their way around Gotham in the dark, sticking to all the safest spots that had the most light. Regardless, Dick was on edge, expecting them to get attacked at every corner and not sure how much of that was him and how much was the anxiety coming from his soulmate. He almost missed the strange glances that Tim kept throwing his way. His hand kept twitching out like he was stopping himself from reaching out, but he didn’t say anything so Dick decided to leave it alone.

“Did you get anything tonight, Timmy?” Jason asked eventually, after the silence had stretched too long. He also threw Dick a strange glance.

“Yes!” Tim said, sounding extremely proud of himself. “Over in Oldtown. I swear there was a black blur. I had to have gotten it on film this time. Can we go develop the film tomorrow, Y/N? Please?” he begged. Dick regretted looking down at him only to see the biggest pair of puppy eyes that he had ever seen. He had to give it to his soulmate, this kid was cute.

“Maybe,” Dick shrugged, not really knowing what else to say. Tim didn’t look like his answer was unexpected.

“A blur doesn’t count as anything, Tim-tam. It could’ve just been a bird. Or maybe Man-Bat. I’ve heard that when he gets the scent of a kid he hunts them down and grabs them out of their beds,” Jason said nastily.

“That’s not true! Everyone knows that Dr. Langstrom hasn’t been transformed since April when Batman put him back in Arkham,” Tim said, very confidently.

“You’re no fun,” Jason muttered, but kept going.

“I’m close to getting a good shot, though. This is the third time this week that I just missed it,” Tim said, excitement bubbling through his voice.

Missed what? Dick wanted to ask, but it was clear that Y/N and Jason were expected to know what he was talking about.

“I can’t believe you lecture me about my shit when Timmy is always out there doing whatever the fuck he does,” Jason complained.

“Language,” Dick said, automatically channeling Alfred. Both boys seemed surprised when the word slipped out.

“Since when do you care about language?” Jason asked, his eyes narrowing.

“We’re here!” Tim interrupted, much to Dick’s relief. Dick looked up to the warehouse that they had stopped in front of, barely recognizing it since it wasn’t a popular villain hideout. The reason for that was quickly revealed when he quickly followed Tim through a boarded up doorway, squeezing through the gap. The inside was occupied, about a couple dozen kids lined the walls, all glaring at each other suspiciously while a couple of adults wandered around stopping at each of the groups. It looked like some sort of shelter for wayward children. Dick had to hurry to keep Tim close as he walked over to an unoccupied spot along the wall and plopped down. Jason followed behind, though Dick could almost feel the heat of his stare on his back.

“Yes! This is a great spot. You should get off work early all the time, Y/N,” Tim said, getting his backpack open and pulling out a battered notebook and an old camera.

Dick crouched next to him and took off his own backpack. It looked like this was where they were going to spend the night. Not the worst place that he’d had to sleep in all his time as Robin, but he couldn’t wait for when he could finally have a talk with his soulmate. A long talk. Mostly concerning minors and child protective services.

“Alright you three, pay up.” the voice startled Dick and he looked up to see two of the adults had made their way around the room to them. Both Jason and Tim looked over at him expectantly and Dick froze for a moment, taking in the fact that the men were definitely goons for Two-face and armed. Dick dug through his pocket and pulled out the wad of bills that he had between getting paid at the diner and from Jason. One of the thugs immediately snatched them up and then looked up at the three of them.

“This a joke?” he asked, not sounding amused.

“Give her a moment, the rest is in the backpack,” Jason said angrily, right at Dick’s back. Dick leaned over and grabbed the bag, rifling through it to look for more cash since he had no idea where she would have kept it.

“You know we don’t give no free spots. You don’t got the cash, you got to walk,” the thug said to Dick, taking a puff of the cigarette in his hands. “Y’know, sweetcheeks, we could make some sort of other deal. You can make some good money walkin’ the streets ‘round here. I can introduce you, if you want. For a price”

Dick looked up and a shiver went down his spine at the way the goon was looking him down. Rage on behalf of his soulmate was blossoming in his mind.

“Go to hell!” Jason spat from behind Dick, and the thug tore his eyes away from Dick to settle on the kid.

“Jason here’s getting to be old enough to join up. I heard you been out with Riley’s kids, it ain’t no different. You come with us and we can get your sis and the kid a real nice spot out of this shithole. What’cha say?”

Dick dug furiously through the backpack, but he didn’t see any other money. He cursed his soulmate for not mentioning that maybe he would need to pay a murderous landlord. Behind him Jason was silent, like he was thinking about it.

“Absolutely not,” Dick said, and was surprised by how much this body’s voice could sound like Bruce.

“That so? What a shame. I was hoping we could work this out, but if you don’t got the cash then we got to make an example out of ya,” the thug said, not really sounding sorry at all. Dick looked up from where he was crouched in time to see the man draw the gun and flick the safety off. “Now which one?” The gun waved between the three of them before settling on Tim.

Blind rage flashed through Dick as a protective instinct that he didn’t know he had rose to the forefront of his mind. Without thinking, he leapt toward the man, knocking his elbow aside and striking out in a disarming technique that he knew he’d done about a billion times with Bruce and in the field. Unfortunately, he overestimated the amount of strength that he had in this new body and the gun didn’t clatter to the floor like usual. What happened instead was that the man reared his hand back to pistol whip him, though he didn’t get that far as Jason crashed into him, sending them both to the floor.

The other thug, who had been silent until now, yelled out in rage and went to grab his own weapon, but Dick had recovered enough to find his center and properly account for the difference in strength as he grabbed the guy and threw him over his shoulder, sending him to the floor with a dull thud. Then he turned back to Jason, who was struggling to get control of the gun with both hands as the man had a hand firmly in his hair, yanking Jason away. He tried to aim again, but this time Dick was successful in disarming him with several nerve strikes to his body.

There was a moment of silence where every eye in the warehouse was on them, but then Dick slung the backpack over his shoulder and grabbed Tim by the arm and was dragging him toward the exit of the warehouse, with Jason following close behind. There were voices yelling after them when they got out into the cold night air and they all three broke into a run until Tim had to stop, gasping for breath.

“What the hell was that?” Jason asked after a second where they all caught their breath. His soulmate wasn’t the long distance sprinter that he was.

“What was what?” Dick asked innocently.

“That. You and those ninja skills that you’ve been hiding. You just took out that guy like--”

“You’re not, Y/N, are you?” Tim’s little voice asked, interrupting Jason’s excited rant.

There was a moment of silence.

“No, I’m not,” Dick admitted.

“Knew it,” Tim murmured to himself.

“Okay, what? Then who the hell are you?” Jason asked, obviously shocked and a little angry.

“I’m her soulmate. We switched during her shift tonight. She didn’t want me to tell you,” Dick said, trying to calm the angry kid down.

“Why didn’t she want us to know?” Tim asked, curious.

“I don’t know. But we’re going to go find out. Come with me,” Dick said, getting his bearings after their mad dash and then choosing the right direction. He took off in long strides and Jason and Tim followed after a moment, probably not knowing what else to do.

“Where are we going?” Jason asked.

Dick ignored him, instead focusing on what he was going to do when he got to his destination. It might take a while, but he was confident that he could make it work. It only took a few moments to get to the nearest zeta location, the phone booth in Old Gotham, and he stopped in front of it.

“What are we doing here, imposter?” Jason demanded this time when Dick stopped. He shot Jason a look, but then stepped into the phonebooth.

“Override, 250H, Robin, B01,” he announced. The familiar scanner came out and predictably denied him access.

“Protocol Bat Red J7/250H,” he said, remembering the emergency contingencies that Batman had in place. There were so many. A panel on the phone booth swung open and he promptly began to rewire the system into the right sequence. The two boys behind him were just staring at him with their mouths open.

“This will just take a second and then we can use this to get to Mount Justice where we can meet up with Y/N,” Dick said as he worked. “She should be getting back there soon.”

“Cool!” Tim said, on his tippy toes trying his best to look over Dick’s shoulder as he worked.

“Why should we trust you?” Jason said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“Because that’s where I’m going so if you want to stick with me you’ll shut your mouth and let me work,” Dick answered easily. Jason scoffed, but was silent.

---

You opened your eyes when you felt the ship start to descend. The flight had been longer than you had expected, and it hit you that you had absolutely no idea where you were now. The current (and only) plan was that you would eventually get to go back to Gotham and then you could try to sneak off to go meet with your soulmate and try to figure out what to do next. Looking out the window in front of the ship, you definitely weren’t in Gotham. The ship was circling around a small town that you couldn’t place before diving into the mountain next to the beach. You quickly grabbed the bottom of your seat, expecting the ship to crash into the side of the mountain, but at the last second a large door that you hadn’t seen before opened and the ship smoothly flew in and landed. You threw a look at Kid Flash and saw that he was silently laughing at you. Well, at least you were awake now.

The same ramp opened in the ship and everyone was standing up to leave. You did the same and followed Kid Flash into another hangar, not entirely unlike the one that you just left. Everyone seemed to relax when they got off the ship and were talking among themselves. The girl in green approached Kid Flash and started talking. From the way that they were standing you could infer that they were close.

“Dick, I believe it best you head to the medical bay,” Aqualad said. At the sound of the name, Kid Flash’s head snapped over and he broke off conversation with the girl to come over.

“Yeah, Rob, I’ll take you over there right now,” he said, making everyone look over from how awkwardly panicked he sounded. He then grabbed both of your shoulders from behind and started shoving you away from the rest of the team. They all threw you two suspicious glances.

“Dick?” you muttered over to him, very amused.

“He just doesn’t like you. You know, like ‘stop being such a dick?’ Don’t take it personally,” Wally fumbled with the words and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry, I already--” you started, but were interrupted by one of the circular tubes starting to glow. Everyone looked over, confused as three shadows came into view one after another. When the light died down, you first noticed that everyone except you and Kid Flash had taken up fighting stances. Then you noticed that it was you who had come through the light. Seeing yourself standing in front of you was weird, to say the least, and you watched as your own eyes flickered over the gatherers superheroes and landed on you. He seemed just as weirded out. Following behind you and looking very amazed were your two brothers. Fuck.

“Who are you and how did you get into the cave?” Aqualad demanded, his weapons drawn.

“What the heck are you doing here?” you called, extracting yourself from Kid Flash’s hold and walking toward the new arrivals. Your eyes flashed over your brothers, making sure that they were both unharmed. There was a flutter of panic when you saw the state that Jason was in.

“Robin, do you know these kids?” Aqualad asked, eyes flicking over to you.

“I’m not Robin,” you muttered, though loud enough that they could all probably hear you. Everyone was staring in shock.

“What do you mean, you’re not Robin?” green girl asked, looking between the two of you.

In a blink, Kid Flash was standing at her side, pushing the bow that she had drawn down. “There’s been a little soulmate situation here. They switched bodies. Uh, surprise!”

By this time you had made your way up to the newcomers and were glaring at Dick, who was glaring back. Tim and Jason were looking between the two of you, both looking hilariously shocked.

“Why was I not informed of this development?” Aqualad asked, eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t want to jeopardize the mission,” Dick called, using your voice, breaking his glaring contest with you.

“Whoa,” Tim said, cautiously approaching you. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” you said reluctantly, knowing what was going to happen next. Tim rushed over to you and tugged your hand down so that you crouched down to be on his level. His little hands came up and attached themselves to your face, running them along the mask across your eyes in wonder. Jason approached more slowly, tension in his body from being in the room with strangers.

“What did you get into this time, Jason?” you asked, exasperation clear in your tone.

“Nothing compared to what you’re in right now,” he answered snottily.

“When I get back in my body we are going to have a talk,” you said, anger dripping out of your voice.

“You’re more intimidating in your other body anyway,” Jason said back, rolling his eyes. You had to stop yourself from laughing. “Tim, that’s probably not a toy,” you said, coming back to the youngest, who had been going through your utility belt and had pulled out one of the disks. You took it from him and put it back where it had come from. He whined in disappointment, but that quickly melted back into excitement.

“Y/N, this is so cool. Your soulmate is Robin. The superhero. That means that your soulmate is Dick Grayson!” Tim answered, not able to keep his excited voice quiet. A ripple of shock went through the room.

“Timothy!” you admonished and he clapped his hand around his mouth, like he had just realized what he had said.

“How does he know that?” your voice asked as Dick came over to where you were. The shock on your own face and coming through the link almost made you laugh. The attention of the entire room was suddenly focused on Tim. He seemed to realize it and buried himself into the front of your uniform. You looked down at him, taking pity on the boy.

“He was ummm,” how were you supposed to explain this delicately? “He was there at the circus the night that… that night.” You felt Dick’s shock morph to dread. He knew what you were talking about. You’d helped Tim through enough nightmares to know how horrifying of an event that must’ve been. “He met you before the show. You apparently said that you were going to dedicate a triple flip to him or something.”

Tim mumbled a correction up to you from his place clinging to your chest.

“Sorry, a quadruple somersault, my bad,” you corrected yourself. “Anyway, then a little while later he saw Robin do one on the TV and apparently only a Grayson could do that kind of move,” you explained. “And then from there it’s pretty obvious that Bruce Wayne has to be Batman.”

“Seems like kind of a stretch,” the boy with the Superman symbol said, crossing his arms.

“He’s observant,” you said with a shrug. Dick was looking back at you, with his face now carefully blank.

“I am!” Tim piped up, apparently done being shy. “I knew that it wasn’t you before we even got to the Willows. And then especially when you saved us by taking out those guys.”

“What guys?” you asked, sharply. You could always rely on Tim to have a lot of information ready to share.

“I got into it with those two-face goons when one pointed a gun at Tim,” Dick admitted. You wanted to scream.

“I told you not to ruin my life,” you grumbled. “I literally got shot and you couldn’t last 4 hours on the streets. What kind of superhero are you?”

“Wait, you got shot? When? Why didn’t you say anything,” Wally put in, sounding distressed.

“Oh, right,” you said, as though suddenly shocked by your own words. You put a gloved hand to the back of your side and winced when you felt the sting. When your hand came back it was lightly wet. “I forgot.” Dick was immediately by your side, lifting the cape so that he could get a good look at the wound. There was worry on his/your face.

“How did you just forget getting shot?” green girl asked, incredulous.

“To be honest, it wasn’t the most pressing issue at the moment,” you said back sarcastically, indicating your body. “It was before I found Kid Flash.”

“It’s just a scratch. Shouldn’t even need stitches,” Dick declared, looking relieved momentarily and then his face fell into disapproval. “You got lucky. You were supposed to call for help if you ran into any trouble.”

“You were supposed to stay put for one night so that I could come find you. Now we’re gonna have Two-Face’s entire gang searching us out,” you shot back, hoping that your exasperation covered the fear that had come into your chest as you realized that the words were true.

“Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t funding a mass murderer,” Dick replied, matching your exasperated tone. “Ever heard of Gotham child services? I hear they don’t try to shoot you if you don’t have any money”

“Wow! I never thought about calling child services. You get a gold star,” you bit out, aware that you and Dick were now having a full-blown argument in front of everyone. The anger that you were both feeling was getting amplified through the link. At the moment, though, you didn’t care. Fear of Two-Face was immediately replaced by the stronger fear that your soulmate was going to inform the authorities about you and that you’d be pulled back into the system. “We can’t go to child services. The first thing they’ll do is separate us.”

“Probably better than getting shot.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” You pulled your focus off of him to note that you and Dick were standing almost chest to chest, you had to look down to see your own face that was looking slightly up. Jason and Tim were behind you, and you could almost feel the tension in Jason from here. It was nice to know that he always had your back, but all of Dick’s friends behind him were similarly wound, like they all expected it to come to blows. That might have been because of the fighting stance that your body had naturally fallen into. All aggression. A wave of exhaustion fell over you as you forced your body to relax, scrubbing a hand over your face as you took a step back. “Maybe we should do this somewhere else,” you suggested, eying the audience.

That seemed to ease a lot of the tension in the room and everyone started to relax. You turned around to look your brothers over again.

“Are you two sure you’re alright?” you asked, needing to be sure.

“Yeah we’re fine. If you need me to knock some sense into your soulmate, I’m sure I can find a way,” Jason said, trying to crack his knuckles menacingly.

“You can’t pick a fight with Robin, you’ll lose,” Tim said, 100% confident. You noticed in the back of your mind that Robin had also turned and was talking in hushed voices with his team. You didn’t bother trying to hear what was said, though.

“You’d better hope not. Now they know that we know about them. They’re probably discussing the best way to off us so we don’t talk,” Jason said, glaring at them over your shoulder.

“Stop being dramatic, Jason,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Robin doesn’t kill people. And he’d never hurt his soulmate,” Tim said. “You don’t think that they’ll separate us, though, do you? Send me back to my parents?” he added less confidently.

“We’re not gonna let that happen, are we Y/N?” Jason said, trying to reassure the kid.

“Of course not,” you responded, though you were chewing your lip. If anyone could do that it was probably a group of superheroes. He had been right about you giving money to Two-Face, after all. Tim had that look that would’ve seemed fine to anyone else, but you knew it meant that he was forcing himself not to cry. You stepped forward and pulled him into your arms. You had at least a foot on him in this body so the hug was more awkward than you expected as you ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly. Then you stretched out your arm to put a hand on Jason’s shoulder, sharing a long look in which several things were communicated silently. “We’ll figure this out. Always do.”

---

“I am displeased that this information was not given to me sooner,” Kaldur said in his best disappointed leader tone.

“I didn’t want the mission to be aborted,” Dick defended. “It was a low-risk job.”

“And yet, there was a civilian in the field, in your own body no less. The fact that she only managed to sustain mild injuries is a small miracle.”

“How did she manage to get shot at and not wind up dead?” Artemis asked.

“Apparently Dick’s muscle memory of fighting stayed in his body. She nailed a guy with a birdarang and probably saved my ass,” Wally said, a little embarrassed about the whole thing. Artemis shot him a glare.

“Wow, your soulbond must be incredibly strong for you to completely switch places like that,” M’gann sighed, looking a little wistful. Martians didn’t have the same soulbonds as humans and Dick knew that she had always been fascinated with them. This was another reason that Dick hadn’t wanted the rest of the team to know. He was sure that the teasing was going to start here and never end. Especially with the way that Wally was currently wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“It is quite an unusual case,” Kaldur agreed. “I can reach out to some of my contacts in Atlantis to see if anything is known about this phenomena.”

“Thanks, Kaldur, that would be helpful. For now I guess I’ll just… bring her back to the cave with me. B is going to freak,” Dick said, feeling more tired than he expected.

“Best of luck,” Kaldur said, and that seemed to be the cue that the conversation was over and everyone else started reluctantly heading upstairs, wanting to give them some privacy, but still throwing looks back at the four remaining people. Dick looked over to where his body was currently. It would never not be weird seeing himself from different eyes, and it was especially true right now as his soulmate was interacting with her little brothers. Every bit of body language spoke of deep, unconditional love, from the way that one arm curled protectively around the smaller boy to the soft facial expression on his face as she looked at the other. Even with the mask on there was no mistaking it. He found his heart aching in longing to be a part of it. That strong sense of family coming through the link was something that he hadn’t fully experienced since his days in the circus and that look on his own face brought to mind memories of the way that his mother looked at him and his father.

Sensing his brief moment of distress, his soulmate looked over and even though the domino mask made it impossible, he could swear that he knew the moment that their eyes met. Through the bond, he could feel what he recognized as wariness and distrust. Of course, that was all under the fierce protectiveness that she felt for the boys. He had no doubt that she would throw him under the bus to save them, but that was strangely okay with him. He’d only known them for less than a day and he was starting to feel similarly. Bruce always said that he got attached to people too easily.

“Come on, we should get going,” Dick said, clearly interrupting the moment.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Back to Gotham. Specifically the Batcave,” Dick answered, heading over to the zeta tube to give the right permissions.

“Batcave? Cool!” Tim chirped, extracting himself from Robin’s hold and bouncing over to where Dick was working. A mutual feeling of fondness found its way through the soulbond.

“Don’t think that I’ll forget about you fighting just because I’m stuck as my soulmate.” Dick heard Y/N remind Jason as they both made their way over.

“Didn’t your soulmate start beating up bad guys when he was like, 9?” Jason deflected.

“I wouldn’t exactly call him a good role model,” Dick heard his voice sigh.

“Hey, in my defense I had a lot of training,” Dick laughed, putting his hands up in defeat.

“Then you should train me,” Jason said, as if getting an idea.

“I could show you a thing or two,” Dick mused, then backpedaled when his soulmate shot him an angry glare. “When you’re older, of course.”

“Let’s just go,” Y/N muttered.

They stepped through the light and into the Batcave, the familiar voice announcing their arrival. Dick looked over to see that Bruce was, of course, still up and standing next to the computer. He had evidently put up his cowl when there were multiple guests announced.

“Robin, what is this?” Bruce asked, straight to the point.

“Don’t look at me,” Y/N answered, pointing to Dick. Bruce looked confused for a second, but then in typical Batman fashion seemed to realize that his son was in the wrong body. There was no change of expression on his face, but the minute tensing of his muscles told Dick that he was surprised.

“Hey B. So it looks like I found my soulmate,” Dick said, gesturing to himself.

“You switched completely?” Batman asked, getting that tension in his jaw that meant he was thinking.

“Yup. Right in the middle of today’s mission,” Dick explained. “Everyone is okay. The mission was successful. Wait, the mission was successful, right?” He eyed his soulmate.

“As far as I can tell?” she answered, unsure.

“Mission was successful,” Dick decided.

“Jason, you have got to come look at this!” Tim’s voice called back. Immediately upon entering he had steered straight toward a set of glass cases over on the edge of the cave. Jason, who had been keeping an eye on him, wandered over. “This is Mr. Freeze’s first ever frost gun! You can tell because of the--”

“Who are the kids, then?” Batman asked, not paying attention while Tim went into way too much detail about the gun and how Batman had won it.

“Those would be my Y/N’s brothers. I kinda messed up their sleeping arrangements so I brought them here,” Dick said, wincing at how little that actually explained.

“Where are your parents?” Bruce asked. Dick wanted to interrupt at the sudden feeling of grief and anger through the link, but she answered right away like she had been expecting the question.

“Mine? Long dead. Jason’s father might still be alive in prison, we have no idea. Tim’s are probably living it up somewhere in Europe, not even caring that they left their 9 year old child alone,” Y/N listed off, causing both Bruce and Dick to cringe in sympathy.

“They were sleeping in one of Two-Face’s warehouses when we switched. It had been turned into a sort of runaway kid recruitment safehouse,” Dick clarified. He and Bruce shared a dark look between them.

“I’ll notify the authorities,” Bruce said.

“Great, but leave us out of it,” Y/N snapped.

“Y/N--” Dick started, but she cut him off.

“I’ve been doing just fine taking care of us, you can’t take them away from me.” There was obvious fear in her voice, but her body language made it look like she was ready to fight them both to the death over it.

“I’m sure you have been doing fine,” Bruce said, trying to reassure her, “but you’re still just a child--”

“I haven’t been a child for a long time,” she stated cynically.

“That doesn’t mean that it’s right,” Bruce stated in a voice that left little room for argument. Then he sighed. “One problem at a time. Let’s try to figure out how long this swap will last. I’ll ask my contacts in the league to figure out if there’s precedent.”

“Aqualad already said he’d dig around Atlantis,” Dick informed him, glad to be off of the previous topic.

“Great. In the meantime we can use blindfolds to--”

“That’s okay, B, they already know,” Dick cut in, looking around to find Tim. “The little guy figured it out.”

As if sensing that the conversation had looped around to him, Tim approached the group, apparently done with his self-tour of the cave. He was eyeing the computers behind them longingly.

“That’s right, Mr. Wayne! I’ve even figured out your patrol schedule. I have some really great pictures from following--”

“Thank you very much, Timmy, we all know that you’re very smart,” Y/N interrupted, probably thinking about how she was just saying how well she could keep them out of trouble. Dick shot her an incredulous look. Tim was beaming with pride at the compliment, oblivious of the intentions.

“Well then, I think you should all go up to the manor and get some rest. Everything else can wait until the morning,” Bruce sighed. This clearly hadn’t been how he was planning his night to go.

“Sure thing, B. I’ll take them up and then we can--”

“You too, Dick. I’m sure that it’s been an eventful night for everyone,” Bruce said in a light tone, but Dick knew that it was an order. Normally, he’d protest, but he had been forcing back yawns all night. When was the last time that his soulmate had slept?

“Fine. Come on you three, let’s go find Alfred,” Dick relented and started heading toward the elevator for the manor. He heard them all reluctantly start following.

---

If Alfred had been surprised to find that he had three more children for the night, or even that Dick was in the wrong body, he hid it well behind that typical grace as he led you to three of the guest bedrooms, all close together. You helped him make up the beds and then he took his leave with promises of a big breakfast in the morning. Dick fished out some clothes from his room that he said you could use as pajamas, even though Tim was sure to be swimming in them. The boys headed over to their rooms, leaving you and Dick together alone for the first time.

“How the hell do you get this damn thing off,” you complained, tugging at the mask over your eyes. Dick just laughed and hit the release point so that he was able to remove it for you. You immediately rubbed at her eyes, then looked around. When your eyes met his, you both looked away, blushing. Dick cleared his throat.

“If you think that’s hard to get off, the rest of the suit is way worse. You’ll probably need some help with that,” Dick said before he realized what that meant.

“So what, are you suggesting that I let you strip me?” you asked, eyes narrowed, but your voice was just on the edge of teasing as he blushed.

“Wouldn’t that technically be stripping me?” he asked, thinking it over more.

“Maybe. God, this is weird,” you blurted out.

“Super weird, right?” Dick confirmed with an awkward laugh. There’s a pause.

“I’m sorry if I seem super obnoxious, it’s just my brothers…” you trailed off, but Dick understood.

“It’s okay. I get it. You want to protect your family. I’m sure Bruce understands, too,” Dick said, voice soft.

“You think?”

“Absolutely. Now, believe me, I know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in that thing, let’s figure out how to do this,” Dick said, effectively changing the subject. There’s a little bit of arguing, but in the end you decided to go into the bathroom to change while he called out directions. It didn’t matter whose body it was, the fact that you were changing in front of someone else made you uncomfortable. You tried to give him some privacy and do it as efficiently as possible, but you couldn’t help but notice that your soulmate had a great body. And what else had you really expected from a vigilante? There were some supplies under the sink that you used to clean and bandage the cut on your side.

“Okay my turn. Any secret hidden tasers that I should be worried about?” Dick joked through the door as you finished up.

“Don’t get any ideas, boy wonder,” you warned through the door.

“Gasp. I’ll have you know I’m nothing, if not a gentleman,” Dick teased back. You heard fabric rustling as he moved around. You splashed some water on your face, trying to get rid of the full blush that painted it’s way across your face through this entire thing, but even the blush looked good on Dick and that realization only made it worse.

“You can come out now. You’re decent,” Dick said and you opened the door and walked out.

“You look good. That t-shirt really brings out your eyes,” he said, looking you over.

“Self absorbed, much?” you muttered, but couldn’t help but laugh. You basked in the feeling of being with your soulmate. You could feel his unease and tentativeness, but also his warmth and laughter. There was a silence while the two of you just enjoyed each other’s company.

“Well,” you said when you realized that this was probably going on too long. “I guess I should…” You motioned to the door.

“Yeah. Right,” Dick said, and you could feel his disappointment clearly through the link.

“Then again, it is my room,” you said, biting your lip. Amusement. Hope.

“It’s really only half your room, if you need both body and mind to make a person,” Dick pointed out.

“So really, if we want one whole Dick to stay in Dick’s room, then we both have to stay,” you finished.

“Logically, of course.”

“Yes, of course.”

Dick gestured to the bed and went to go turn out the lights. You crawled underneath the covers and made yourself comfortable. The bed dipped beside you as Dick did the same. It was really nice to know that you both had the same desire to be close, shared between you through the link, without having to try to guess at the other’s intentions. This feeling was nice, but you couldn’t help but worry about what was coming tomorrow. If Bruce decided to force you back into the system, then you’d have to--

A hand closed around yours. It was small and soft compared to your own.

“Y/N,” Dick mumbled, already half asleep. “I’m not going to let anyone separate you and your brothers.”

You grabbed his hand and let his sleepy reassurance come through the link.

“Thank you, Dick,” you breathed, but he was already asleep.

When you woke up, your first thought was wondering when the last time you had slept in an actual bed had been. Then you remembered that you had fallen asleep in Dick’s room and…

“Thank God,” you praised as your hands came up to your face. It was your own. You hugged your familiar body and told yourself that you’d never take it for granted ever again. Then you remembered that you hadn’t been alone when you had fallen asleep and your eyes flew open, settling on the empty stretch of bed next to you. You heard the sound of the shower running in the attached bathroom and put two and two together. You picked yourself up out of bed and quickly threw on the clothes that had been discarded on the floor the night before. You didn’t really feel like staying and waiting for Dick to get out.

Deciding to go check on Jason and Tim, you pushed the door to the room open and crept out, only to jump in surprise when a voice cleared its throat behind you. You whirled around to see Alfred watching you as you snuck out of Dick’s room and you were suddenly mortified. He gave you a disapproving look and said, “Breakfast is this way, Miss Y/N. Your brothers are already attending.” You wanted to ask how he knew that it was you, but thought better and just followed him silently, knowing that you were blushing hard again.

Last night when you had been led to the bedrooms you hadn’t really gotten a clear look at the place and now that you did, your embarrassment was replaced by awe. Everything here was so beautiful. You immediately felt out of place. Alfred led you to a dining room not too far away and you saw Jason and Tim seated at the end of the long table with food spread out in front of them. It was only when you got fully into the room that you could see that Bruce was also there, sitting at the head of the table. Alfred had disappeared almost the minute that you had walked in, so you hesitantly took a seat opposite Tim and Jason, noticing that the conversation had stopped when you had entered.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Bruce said pleasantly. “Feeling like yourself again?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” you murmured back, reaching out and taking some fruit that was set on the table to avoid looking at anyone.

“Glad to hear it. Tim here was just telling me all about the idea that he had for a rocket-powered skateboard,” Bruce said, sounding amused. You eyed him suspiciously, but as far as you could tell he was genuine.

“Was he?” you said, looking at Tim who was practically beaming up at you and then over to Jason, who seemed relaxed. That more than anything put you at ease. Jason was never relaxed.

“Did you get any information from your contacts?” you asked.

“In fact, I did. We should wait until Dick is here to discuss business, though. Please, help yourself,” Bruce offered, gesturing at the excessive amount of food that was placed on the table. You looked up to make sure that Jason and Tim were eating and was pleased to see that they both had evidence of a large meal on their plates. Jason was still happily chewing on some bacon.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” you said sincerely.

“Please, call me Bruce,” he shot back, giving you a bright smile. You tentatively took a couple more things off the table to put onto your place, but you were too nervous to really eat. You wondered whether Dick even remembered his promise last night.

“Good morning all! Guess who’s back in the right bodies,” a bright voice came and with it, Dick. He was dressed in casual clothing, still drying off his hair with a towel. He seemed happy.

“Great, Dick’s here. What’s the news?” you asked, wanting to get this over with, whatever it was. Dick could probably sense your anxiety, since he just sat down at the table without comment.

“Aquaman’s sorcerers came back with some good insight. Apparently strong bonds like that react to distance and time. So basically, being a long distance apart for a long enough time seems like it will trigger a switch like the two of you experienced yesterday, and being physically close together will revert the effects,” Bruce explained. There was a moment of silence where everyone took that in.

“So what does this mean for me being Robin?” Dick asked reluctantly and you promptly felt guilty that you had been too caught up in your own problems to realize what a big impact this was sure to have on Dick too.

“It means that you’ll need to be more careful. With a little bit more study we might be able to determine the exact causes of the switching and avoid it altogether, but you both need to let someone know immediately when it happens,” Bruce answered, his voice hardening at the end, indicating that he knew exactly what had happened last night. A bit of shared guilt came through the link, but that was quickly replaced with relief from Dick.

“As for the domestic situation between you three,” Bruce started and your stomach dropped. This was it. “I have no choice but to alert the authorities and trust the system.” You opened your mouth to protest, strongly, but stopped when Bruce held up a hand and continued. “I have already, however, gotten the appropriate documentation for temporary custody of all three of you, pending a court case, if you so choose.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Those were the last words that you had expected to hear. If what you were hearing was correct, billionaire Bruce Wayne had just implied that he wanted to adopt not only you, his son’s soulmate, but your two younger brothers as well. There had to be some sort of catch in there somewhere. You suspiciously looked over at Bruce again. Jason was even less trusting than you and was giving Bruce a similar staredown. Tim looked ecstatic for a moment, then when he saw the way his siblings were reacting, quickly mirrored them. Bruce held your stare.

“This is, of course, completely up to the three of you. It is convenient for Dick to have you close by for the reasons that I’ve previously mentioned, but other arrangements can be made. It’s also convenient for me to keep you three close, since you have been made aware of multiple closely-guarded secrets and could be made targets. I’ve also done some research into each of your family situations, and I feel as though I’m uniquely qualified to offer you a second chance.”

Wow. Just, wow. There was a lot to take in there. Bruce’s arguments seemed extremely reasonable, and you were struggling to come up with how this could possibly be some sort of trick. You did feel a little put off that he had thought of all this and had already done most of it, but also it was Batman so maybe you shouldn’t be. The one thing that you knew for sure was that whatever decision you made, it would be all three of you.

Looking at Tim was probably unnecessary for the most part. He was giving you the most intense puppy dog eyes, while trying to be subtle about it. His idol had just offered to adopt him after his own family didn’t want him. Tim’s preference was a no brainer. Jason, on the other hand, was a bit harder to read. His eyes when they caught yours had a healthy dose of skepticism. He, like you, had had bad experiences with foster parents in the past, which made trusting adults just that much harder. Beneath that, though, you knew him well enough to see the hope in his eyes. Jason had been on the streets for the longest out of the three of you, and he’d never admit it, but he was tired of it. You saw it in the way that he would disappear into books, trying to get a taste of a life that would never be his. Jason eventually gave you a small nod, indicating that he would go along with whatever you wanted.

Dick’s eyes were like Tim’s. Pleading for you to take the offer, but also remarkably understanding, like he would respect your choice either way. You blocked out the feelings of the bond, not wanting that to affect your choice in the matter. Now all that was left was you.

This was a big step to take, and very soon. You didn’t want to rush anything, but also, you vaguely knew how these court systems worked. A temporary custody wasn’t the end of the world if it was a bad fit, there would still be time to disentangle you and your siblings from him if you needed to. Plus, it would be great to be around Dick more, now that you’d found him. And apparently if you weren’t around Dick more, you might end up in another potentially dangerous situation like you had last night. Not to mention the fact that you were sure that Two-Face’s gang was going to blacklist you from all of your previous known resources, so going back to the streets would be twice as hard.

Bruce adopted Dick, and he seems happy, your brain supplied. Nothing about him set off any serious red flags so far…

“Okay, alright,” you found yourself saying. “We can give it a shot.”

Everyone at the table seemed happy at your words and Bruce left shortly after to go and make more arrangements for it. Between Tim, Jason, and Dick, almost everything on the table was picked apart and eaten by the time that they were all getting up for a tour of the manor from Dick. Dick seemed especially happy to have company, and you imagined being in this big space alone. No wonder he was ecstatic about this.

The tour was what really cemented your mind about this decision. Dick was so animated, talking about all of the different rooms and which chandeliers were load-bearing. Soon all three of you were laughing and enjoying yourselves, even Jason. He gushed over the library the same way that Tim had over the Batcave. At the very end of the tour, you paid more attention to the bond between you and Dick and you caught him staring at the three of you.

Hope. Excitement. Fondness. Love.

Yeah, you definitely made the right choice.

Chapter Text

Prologue:

Tim didn’t quite believe it until he saw it with his own eyes. He knew it, but didn’t believe it when he saw the way that the boy moved on the television. It took a few weeks of sneaking out and tracking them before he finally caught his first glimpse of the duo. That cemented it in his mind. He was right. Dick Grayson was Robin. The Boy Wonder.

A feeling of excitement at discovering Gotham’s most well-kept secret bubbled up in him and threatened to release in a squeal of victory, but he was carefully tucked on the side of a fire escape so making any noise at all would surely alert the people below. He cautiously picked his way back up to the top of the building, being as quiet as he could and then immediately sat down on the edge, his back against the short wall, trying to take in the implications of this discovery. It was certainly a dangerous secret. And big. Even then, he burned with the urge to tell somebody about it, to share this experience with someone else, but that was literally the worst thing that he could ever do. He knew he had to take this discovery to his grave. But still.

Instead, he took out his black marker and removed the cap with his teeth. This probably wasn’t the best idea ever, but it would satiate his need to share this moment with someone, even though he was as alone as he’d ever been. If he wrote it down, it would make his discovery tangible, more real. And then he could go wash it off in the morning and no one would be any the wiser. It’s not like anyone would believe it even if they saw it written on the arm of a 9 year old kid. In bold, sure letters he wrote on the inside of his forearm and then held his arm across his chest protectively, like a promise. This was his secret now, too.

Batman is BRUCE WAYNE
Robin is DICK GRAYSON

-

It started when you were nine years old. You woke up as usual and stumbled over to the bathroom to get ready for the day, eyes still blearly. You almost don’t notice the bold letters running down the inside of your forearm, but when you did, you spit out a mouthful of toothpaste all over the sink and mirror, then ran across the house with a squeal of joy and burst into your parents’ room. They were both in the process of getting ready, and looked none too pleased at the intrusion, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wait.

“Mom! Dad! Look! This showed up last night, is it a soulbond?!” you said excitedly. Like all children, you were taught about the mysterious forces that connected about a quarter of the people in the world and what forms they might take. Skin writing was one that was common, and often showed up early, they had said. You bounced up and down excitedly as your mother took your arm and they both read what was written. She tutted.

“It’s nonsense. Did you write this?” your mother asked, glaring down at you in the sharp kind of way she talked when you were about to be in trouble.

“No!” you protested, some of your earlier enthusiasm seeping away. You pulled your arm back out of her grasp and realized that in your excitement you had yet to actually read what was written on your skin.

Batman is *SMUDGE*
Robin is *SMUDGE*

You stared at it for a moment, confused, the ends of the sentences were completely unintelligible. Then you brightened up just a little as you remembered.

“Mrs. H said that with a lot of written soulbonds, you can’t write names or places. That’s probably why it’s smudged,” you said, trying to impress them with your knowledge.

“It would still be nonsense,” your father said, now back to tying his tie in front of the mirror. “No one knows who those wackjobs are, or else they’d be in prison where they belong.”

“We don’t have time for your daydreaming, Y/N. Now go put on something that covers those ugly marks and then we can drop you off at school,” your mother dismissed. Any hope you had left was completely squashed at her words. You walked back dejectedly to your room, holding your arm against your chest. You put on long sleeves, despite the Gotham heat.

On the car ride to the school you were given your first lecture of thousands about how a proper young lady doesn’t have any markings on her skin and how you are forbidden to write anything else on yourself, despite your protests earlier that it hadn’t been you. Your mother even went out of her way to fish all of the pens and markers out of your bag to make the point, leaving you with only pencils that couldn’t make marks on skin. You sat and listened in silence, every instinct you had was telling you to write back and share your connection with your soulmate, but you couldn’t disobey your parents. You knew how angry they’d be if you did, so you pushed it all down.

School that day was agony. Not only were you entirely too hot with the long thick sleeves of the sweater that you had donned, but you started looking longingly at the markers everywhere around you. You finally broke down at lunch time and swiped a marker off the board when no one was looking. Not that they usually were. In the prestigious schools of Gotham, family influence and power was everything, and unfortunately for you, your family was the bottom rung. Just enough to get on the ladder, but at the bottom, where everyone was always looking down on you. You spent most lunches alone these days, so there really was nothing out of the ordinary with this. You took your treasure back to your own desk and carefully removed the cap and…

The marker hovered two inches from the skin that you had revealed by pulling up the sleeve of the sweater. The writing that had been there earlier was now all gone and you assumed that your soulmate had washed it off. What should you write? Hi? That sounded so stupid, you had to come up with something better, but all your traitorous brain could think about was how furious your mother would be if she found out what you were doing. You’d always obeyed your parents, no questions asked. They knew what was best for you, right? That, and they were giving you so much. Food, clothes, a roof over your head, this expensive prep school education. They reminded you of it often and it terrified you that they might take away those privileges if you started acting like a delinquent.

As you sat there, paralyzed over what to do, you felt a tingling sensation up your arm and you saw a dark spot begin to bloom just on the inside of your wrist. As you watched, it condensed into a black symbol. Your soulmate was apparently writing on their skin again. You, of course, recognized Batman’s symbol as it appeared on your skin, over and over. They were pretty good at drawing it. You wondered for a second if maybe your mom was right and your soulmate was someone obsessed with the Bats, which was mostly reserved for crazy people or criminals as far as you knew. You lifted the marker away from your skin, watching more smudges slowly come into focus. This time it was words.

Supplies:
Rope
Climbing gear
Police Scanner
Camera
Map
Snacks

The list was crawling its way down your arm until there was almost no room left. You squinted at it, wondering what your soulmate could possibly be doing with a list like that. Then, you felt the tingling again on your other arm, so you pulled the over sleeve up and waited. The black marks made a single word this time, in shakier writing that told you that your soulmate might be right handed. “MASK”. The word was then circled twice and then a question mark was added to it, like the writer was second-guessing their decision. A few seconds later the entire word was scribbled out and you looked down in frustration at the large black mark now on your skin. Maybe you should write to them to tell them to cut it out so that your parents won’t be angry. You put the marker to your skin, making one red dot and are about to start writing when the bell rang, startling you and making you drop the marker. You dove under the desk to snatch it back up, but when you surfaced again, the room was slowly filling up with the other students and you jammed your sleeves back down in embarrassment. If someone saw the markings covering your arms there’d be no end to the teasing and gossip. To your knowledge, no one else in the class had manifested a soul bond yet.

For the rest of the day, you fiddled with the marker under your desk, deliberating what to do with it. It was the only one that you had now, but you couldn’t bring it home or else it might be confiscated. If you really wanted to obey your parents, you would place it back on the board where you had gotten it. However, you couldn’t deny the yearning that you felt with the marker in your hands. You knew from the lessons that whatever the soul bond ended up being, your natural instincts were to connect with it. For instance, people that had a dream/sleep sharing soulbond would naturally want to sleep more, or people with words or names tattooed on their skin would have the phrase or name stuck in their head over and over like a song they couldn’t get out of their heads. It was just how humans worked; you were hard-coded to be drawn to your soulmate if you had one.

You might’ve broken down and written on your skin had you been given another chance all day, but between trying to focus on your lessons and the other students around, there was no time for you to do anything with the marker. When you left for the day, you ended up stashing it in your desk for later. You told yourself that tomorrow during the same lunch time you would be able to at least say hi to your soulmate.

It was a surprise to find that your mother had come to pick you up that day. They usually sent a car to ferry you from school, since they normally had to work late. You appreciated that they even took the time to be with you on the way to their work in the first place. You happily climbed into the car with your mother and were promptly completely ignored as she chatted away on her phone, still talking business all the way home. You politely waited for her to be done, knowing that your parents were often busy running their company and didn’t appreciate interruptions. It wasn’t until you got home that she finally turned the phone off and focused on you.

“Hi baby, how was school today?” she asked, smiling down at you.

“It was good!” you said automatically, knowing that she wasn’t really asking you how your day went, and was expecting the happy answer.

“That’s good! No more markings on your skin?” the tone in your mom’s voice getting sharper.

“No, I didn’t write anything, mamma, but--”

Your mom reached out and had your arm so fast that your eyes weren’t even able to track the movement. She pulled back your sleeve and then let out an outraged sound when the black markings were revealed.

“What did I tell you about writing on yourself?” she demanded and then her grip tightened to the point of pain and she was dragging you across the house toward the kitchen.

“Ow! Let go, you’re hurting me!” you protested, but couldn’t shake your arm out of her grip. You got to the sink where your mother pulled your arm under the faucet and turned the water on high heat. She took a washcloth and some soap and started to scrub at your arm.

“What did I say?” she asked again, her voice dripping with anger.

“You said that I shouldn’t,” you said, your eyes starting to tear up as your mother scrubbed hard at the skin. “You said that young ladies shouldn’t have marks on their skin, but mama it wasn’t me, I swear! It just showed up.” You were crying now, the skin on your arm turning bright red with the burning heat of the water and the too-hard scrubbing. The black marker just stood out more.

“That’s right,” she seethed, “Young ladies also shouldn’t lie. Now, what did you write this with? It’s not coming off.”

“I didn’t write it!” you sobbed. “Please!”

After a few more painful moments, your mother finally released you and you fell to the ground, cradling your arm and crying. Your mother stared down and then sighed.

“Go cover yourself up and get yourself together before your father gets home,” she said, sounding tired now. You scrambled to your feet and then dashed out of the kitchen toward the relative safety of your bedroom. Your mother and father had always been strict, probably stricter than most parents since they were trying to establish your family in Gotham, and they were quick to put you back in your place with sharp words when you were being disobedient, but they’d never physically hurt you before.

You collapsed onto your bed and cried until you couldn’t anymore, then you looked down to see that the sweater you had been wearing had stretched when your mother had yanked on it and you pulled it off. Looking in the mirror, you were surprised to see that the doodles and lists from earlier had expanded. It was like your soulmate was brainstorming some big plan all up and down your arms, with a lot of names and places smudged out. You stared at it in shock for a moment, before the throbbing of your arm snapped you out of it.

It was the markings that had caused this. You found that you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them anymore, wishing desperately that they would all just go away and that you could have a different soulbond. Anything. But you were stuck with this. It was like the universe was playing some cruel joke on you. You turned and pulled on a different sweater and then crawled into bed, ignoring the sounds of your parents calling you down for dinner as you felt sorry for yourself. You had been so happy to see them in the morning, and now it had come to this.

At about 8, there was a soft knock at your door and then it opened, letting in both your mom and your dad.

“Hey sweetheart,” your dad said quietly and you looked up at him. “We need to have a family discussion.” Both of your parents came and sat on your bed, looking down at you with gentle expressions.

“It wasn’t my fault,” you whispered, still out of tears to cry and terrified that they would get mad again.

“Shhh, honey, I know,” your mother said, pushing some hair away from your face gently. “You were right. It’s probably your soul bond, which is why we have to talk. Sometimes people get bad soulbonds, and it’s not their fault.”

“Bad soulbonds?” you asked, confused.

“Yup. Bad,” your father chimed in. “Not all soulmates are meant for each other. Sometimes someone good, like you, will get paired with a troublemaker, like your soulmate.”

“Why are they a troublemaker?” you asked, still confused. Did they know who your soulmate was?

“Honey, people like us don’t go writing nonsense all over their skin like that. You saw what was written, your soulmate needs professional help.”

“You think they’re crazy?” you clarified, more for you than for them. They shared a look.

“More or less,” your mother answered. “And we only want the best for you, which is why I was upset earlier. Whoever your soulmate is, they’re not good for you. We just want to make sure that you’re safe, and that you don’t try to contact them at all through the bond. If you do that and then they find out who you are, something terrible could happen to you and we’d never be able to forgive ourselves.”

“Oh,” you said, fear beginning to well up in your chest. You were suddenly glad that you didn’t write anything today when you had the marker, but you weren’t going to mention how much you had wanted to.

“Can you promise us that you won’t ever, ever, write anything back? And that you’ll always cover whatever marks they leave on you? We don’t want to lose you.”

You looked between them and you noted how serious they both looked. You’d never seen them like this and it was scaring you. You nodded. “I promise.”

“That’s all we’re asking for. We love you, Y/N.”

The next day (and every day after that), you wore long sleeves to school, but you still kept that marker hidden in your desk. You did your best to ignore the tingles that signified that your soulmate was writing again, and whenever you got the urge to write back, you would take out the marker and doodle with it on paper, since that was the only way to relieve the urge.

Eventually your collection of illicit markers grew and you were a bit obsessed with drawing with them. Markers and pens were now forbidden items in your home and this little secret was the only thing that you had that your parents weren’t monitoring. You secretly enjoyed that you had at least this one thing that they didn’t know about. You couldn’t brag to anyone, but you were getting pretty good at drawing as the days went by.

The lists and the doodles continued to pop up on your skin periodically and without warning, and the content of them started to change. The writing ranged from homework reminders, to weather reports, to increasingly questionable lists. One of the more recent ones was a string of unpronounceable words that upon a quick Google search, turned out to be all of the deadly poisons found in Africa. Another was just an ongoing list of weapons that stayed on your thigh for weeks as it was added to.

You’d be creeped out that someone was writing directly on their skin so much if you didn’t understand exactly how they felt. It was like your skin was itching and only ink could get it to stop. You always just barely managed to uncomfortably resist that urge.

Another significant change in the soulbond was that apparently it wasn’t limited to just ink on skin. You started noticing purple marks, usually always on your knees and elbows that could only be that your soulmate had bruises there. There was one scary week where your entire left arm turned a blotchy purple-red that looked incredibly painful, but felt fine. You started worrying that there was something bad happening to your soulmate when the amount of bruising (and sometimes deep red blood) increased exponentially into things that couldn’t be explained as accidents, but when you brought it up with your parents they would just get angry again and tell you to ignore it. They reminded you that your soulmate was bad and that it wasn’t any of your business what they got into. That still didn’t stop you from feeling guilty.

In fact, every time you were home and let any of the markings show, your parents would look at them in disgust and you would quickly cover them again, or else get ready for another angry lecture. It didn’t take long for the thought of anyone seeing the markings on your skin to terrify you. Your parents weren’t wrong about high society judging those with less than perfect soulmates, you saw it happen as more and more people in your grade were getting their bonds. As you saw people getting teased about them and rumors flying about who was linked with who, you were incredibly glad that your bond was below their radar. You didn’t need to become more of an outcast than you already were.

Over the past couple of years, you had gotten a tenuous foothold into the social standing in your grade and had a few people that you might actually call friends. This was mostly due to the fact that the pressure that your parents had been putting on you just about doubled for every school year that you attended. You had to be the best at everything you did, or face their displeasure. Unsurprisingly, all of the other kids at the school were pretty comfortable in their standings and had none of the drive that you had, which made it so that you topped the class academically most of the time due to sheer force of will. If you were anyone else, that would have been met with praise and brownnosing, but with your family standing, it just meant that no one really picked on you quite as much, which was fine with you.

You still always covered up most of your skin, even though there weren’t always marks, but that was explained away with a skin condition and your mother made sure that your clothing was high-quality enough that people would compliment you rather than criticize. Not to say that there weren’t always nasty rumors flying around, but you tried not to let that bother you.

The day started like any other, getting up, getting dressed and ready, going downstairs to grab a quick breakfast before going to the car for your ride to school. It stopped being like any other day once you actually got into the kitchen, though, because there you found your mother sitting at the table, coffee and newspaper in hand. Your parents had stopped dropping you off at school when you turned 11, and now you were 15 and trying to remember the last time that you had seen either one of your parents before 7 pm.

“Good morning, sweetie. There’s some breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen,” you mother said when she caught sight of you frozen on the stairs.

“Good morning,” you stammered back and forcibly unstuck yourself to walk over to the kitchen. There you found some toast and eggs that you scooped onto a plate and cautiously walked back out. It was clear that your mother was waiting for you to come and eat with her. “What’s the occasion?”

“There doesn’t have to be an occasion for me to want to spend the morning with my daughter,” she said back too sweetly. “I’ll drive you to school after you eat.”

“Okay… thanks,” you said, taking a bite of toast and not really tasting it much.

“Of course. Have you been following the news lately?” your mom asked, and you knew that the pleasantries were over and this was what she had wanted to talk about from the beginning.

“Uhhh, not particularly,” you admitted.

“Y/N,” your mom chastised, “It is important for us to always be aware of what opportunities are around us. For instance, have you heard that the Drakes were kidnapped abroad and held for ransom four months ago?”

That’s supposed to be an opportunity? you thought, but said, “No, I didn’t hear that.”

“Janet Drake was killed, and Jack Drake is now in a coma. They have a child, Timothy, who was home at the time,” you mom informed, like she was reading off the weather.

“That’s horrible,” you said, your eyebrows knitting up in concern.

“Yes, tragic,” your mother said emotionlessly, “but now Timothy is a ward of Bruce Wayne and will be attending private school instead of the private tutors that he had previously studied with.”

You had a feeling about where this was going. “And?”

“And,” your mother pursed her lips, “I shouldn’t have to tell you how influential to the city Bruce Wayne is. Timothy will be entering your grade today and it would do everyone well if you could get into his good graces. From the other two, it’s clear that getting on the good side of Wayne’s pet projects gets the attention of the man himself and lord knows we could use some of that.”

You couldn’t be surprised, really. It wasn’t even the first time that your parents had asked you to get close to someone in order to get to their parents, but it seemed a little too brutal to take advantage of someone else’s tragedy like that.

“Yes, mother,” you said, mostly because she was looking at you like she wanted you to answer. She smiled and tapped your cheek gently.

“That’s my girl,” she said and then didn’t say another word to you the entire car ride to school.

It seemed like everyone in your grade (and most others) were also given the same advice as you. For the next couple days, even if you wanted to try and talk to Timothy (you didn’t) he was always surrounded by others. You felt bad for the kid, who was obviously “smiling for the camera” 24/7, but it seemed like everyone else was ignoring the dark bags under his eyes and the way that he seemed exhausted all the time when he thought no one was looking. Your parents asked you about how it was going once or twice and you got away with just vague answers. They were crazy to think that you even had a chance at catching his attention, given how you were normally treated due to your family’s standing.

On top of that, for the past few days, it seemed like the urge to draw had gotten exponentially stronger, and that was further confirmed by the increase in the amount of drawing your soulmate was now sending you. You lost yourself in a particularly detailed drawing of the Gotham skyline when you were supposed to be paying attention in class. You couldn’t get the layering on the colors quite the way that you wanted it to and it was frustrating you. You were so focused, that apparently you didn’t even hear the first bell ring, and instead, it was an unfamiliar voice that snapped you out of your daze.

“Hey, that’s pretty good,” the voice said, and you jumped up, and then had another second of panic where you had to make sure that the marker didn’t hit your skin as you dropped it. You were always really careful when drawing to not mark up your hands. You looked up, annoyed, straight into the ice-blue eyes of Timothy Drake.

“Oh, um, hi. Thanks, I mean,” you sputtered, caught completely off-guard and then mentally congratulated yourself on your eloquence. Normally you were a lot better than that.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet, I’m Tim,” he said, extending a hand gracefully with a smile. You took it and shook, aware of how awkward you felt compared to him.

“Y/N,” you said. There was an awkward pause. You fished around for something to say and the first thing that came to your mind was--

“I’m sorry about your parents.” Wow. You really messed up there. Surprise flickered across his face and you kicked yourself for being so insensitive. You backpedaled. “Sorry. I mean, you’ve probably been getting that a lot.”

“No. Actually, I haven’t,” he mused, looking down at you with renewed interest. You felt frozen under his analytical stare. “So, are you taking the art classes here, then?” he changed the subject.

“What?” you looked down and caught sight of the city sketch still sitting where your notes should have been. Usually nobody noticed or cared enough to comment on your artwork. “Oh, no. This is just a…” coping mechanism “hobby.”

“Really? You seem talented, you could totally go for it,” he said, his warm smile doing its job at putting you at ease.

“Well, thanks,” you said, then turned your focus on the board and saw it full of equations that you’d completely ignored all period. Your heart sank. “But I doubt that any of the answers to those are square root of skyscraper.”

Tim laughed and then started digging through his backpack. “Here, you can borrow my no--”

He was interrupted by one of the more aggressive girls in his following coming up, and you realized how much everyone had been glaring at the two of you talking. It was obvious that they wanted to get in on the networking time with Drake that you were hogging.

“Timmy, come eat lunch with us! You have GOT to try this brownie that my chef made for me this morning, they are the absolute best thing you have ever tasted,” the girl called and a lot of people around her were nodding their heads in agreement.

“Doubt it,” Tim whispered under his breath so that only you could hear. When he turned back to you, you had completely shoved everything into your backpack and were already on your feet. “One second, Lydia, I was just--”

“Nice to meet you, Tim, but I should really be going, I have a club meeting to get to,” you said, already walking away. There was no way that you were going to get on the bad side of everyone in the class because Timothy Drake decided that he was going to use you to get away from everyone else. He looked a bit shocked at your quick exit, but you just shot him an apologetic glance over your shoulder and then disappeared.

That was your first meeting with Tim. Math was the only class that you shared with him, so it was pretty easy to stay under his radar as long as you were careful, only sharing brief small talk every now and then before or after class. You made sure to be polite, but kept the personal information to a minimum, not sure what he wanted from you and not willing to risk it and find out. That didn’t stop you from noticing the weight of his eyes on your paper whenever you started doodling in that class (which was becoming more often), though.

The big change happened just a couple of months later at the end of the school year. You had long ago invested in more lightweight clothing that still covered you entirely, so you weren’t quite so miserable when the hot Gotham months came around, but summer was never your favorite time of the year and you were dreading the dwindling number of days before school ended.

When you got to school that day, a small crowd of people standing outside of the main office caught your attention and it took you a moment to remember that the end of year class rankings were supposed to be posted today. Usually, no one except you really gave a shit about it, and you were always on top, so no one wanted to pay attention to it anyway, lest they be forced to acknowledge you. Not this time apparently. You wandered over and squeezed your way through, dread starting to well up in your chest. No one said a word to you as they watched you scan the list.

Your heart stopped.

Your name was up there, as usual. In the #2 slot. Your parents were going to kill you when they found out. You looked up further to see that the top spot had been given to--

“Hey, Y/N. Close competition this time around. No hard feelings?” Tim said behind you and you whirled around to him in surprise, trying to quickly wipe away the look of fear on your face. You weren’t sure that you did a good enough job of that when you saw his smile falter for a fraction of a second, but you plowed through it and met it with a long-perfected bright smile of your own and reached out to offer a handshake. Just about half of your class was standing there watching so you really couldn’t do anything else.

“Of course,” you said and he shook your hand, neither of you dropping the big fake smiles, but your mind was already racing about how you were going to break this to your parents without backlash. You’d have to say something about doing worse on purpose so that you could let Tim Drake take the spot and strengthen your connection.

“Y/N?” Tim said, and when you actually focused on him, it looked like the gears were turning in his head as well. He was surprisingly perceptive for a rich kid. “I meant to tell you, we’re going to be celebrating the end of the school year with a get-together for all of the students at Wayne Manor after the school year, if you’re available to come.”

That invitation was… public. You didn’t have to think it through for long. Rejecting the invitation outright (like you wanted to) would result in the other students thinking that you were insulting the Waynes, which would eventually get back to the parents and…

“Of course,” you said again. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” Politeness came easily to you after many years of practice.

“Great! I’ll send you more details on it soon.” Your locked eyes were a competition to see who would back down first. You wanted to scream. You had thought that he had been too nice to maneuver you like this, but he was just like the rest of them, apparently. Now on top of everything, you had to worry about what his underlying goal for all of this was.

Throughout the rest of the day it was like everything that you’d built up in the last four years was crashing down around you. Whispers followed you around in the hallways that you did your best to ignore, but it wasn’t like they were trying very hard to be secret.

“Looks like the queen got knocked off her throne.”

“I don’t know why Drake is even bothering with her.”

“He’s probably just being nice, inviting her to the party”

“I wouldn’t have shook her hand, who knows what that skin condition is doing to her. Especially if she’s wearing long sleeves in this weather.”

But nothing could shake you more than the dread of what was going to happen when you got home. You had mostly been ignoring the whispers in favor of going over that encounter in your head over and over making sure that you were prepared for anything when it came to how your parents were going to react. Your anxiety over that preceded all other thoughts and the day was going by in a blur. Until lunch.

“Hey, mind if I sit here?” Tim’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you sat at the lunch table alone, too nauseous to do anything more than stir your food around on the plate. He sat down across from you without waiting for your reply. You looked around in a panic and saw that everyone was indeed staring at the two of you with varying levels of hostility.

“What are you doing?” you hissed at him, and he didn’t seem surprised at your sharp tone.

“I just want to make sure everything’s okay,” he said, putting his hands up in defense. “You seem more stressed over the whole list thing than you should be.”

“I don’t care about the damn list,” you said, truthfully. He eyed you doubtfully, but then seemed to accept it.

“Then what is it?” Tim asked, his steady eyes boring into yours like he already knew the answer to that question.

“Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve decided to single-handedly ruin my life,” you groaned, deflecting. “Like seriously, why me?”

Tim raised an eyebrow questioningly and you just did a vague gesture around the room. His eyes scanned around him and people noticeably looked away from where they had been staring at the two of you.

“I’m trying my best to stay under the radar of these ultra-rich assholes, and you keep dragging me in the spotlight,” you said quietly, surprising yourself with your own boldness. “You’re not an idiot, you have to know what you’re doing.”

“I’m just trying to make friends with the only genuine person here,” Tim shot back.

“Friendship request declined,” you said automatically.

“Okay, fine. How about a business partnership then?” he asked, and you looked up at him in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to commission an art piece from you,” he stated, confusing you even more. “I have to get someone a present and I’ve been struggling to find something, but this would be perfect.”

“Uh huh. And what exactly would I get out of this, then?” you asked, immediately insulted that he thought that you needed his money.

“I’ll leave you alone after?” he offered, smiling with faux-innocence. You had to give it to him, the guy was charming. Probably a result of being the ward of the infamous Bruce Wayne.

You thought for a moment. “What is the commission of?”

“Robins,” he said immediately. You waited for him to go on, but he didn’t.

“Fine,” you sighed, resigned. He was probably used to getting whatever he wanted anyway, no use in arguing further.

The two of you spent the rest of the lunch period in silence.

When you got home that night you had everything but a powerpoint ready to present to your parents as to what had happened with the list. You got through your piece with only 20 minutes of yelling and a lot of promises of taking extra classes (on top of what you already did) during the summer. All in all, it could have gone worse. You had to pull the Wayne party card to get away with it escalating further, which was frustrating as you thought of Tim’s infuriating smile, but eventually your parents calmed down and sent you to your room to study without dinner.

The next day you found a brand new high-quality set of artist’s markers on your desk when you walked into math. You stared down at it for a moment, and then turned around so that your eyes found Tim’s. He noticed you staring and gave you a lazy wave, looking like he was half-asleep himself. You successfully resisted the urge to flip him off. If he thought he was going to impress you with fancy gifts then he didn’t know you at all.

At lunch you started actual brainstorming of what you wanted to do for the piece. You sketched out some thumbnails, not really happy with any of them and it was probably because you were actually a little nervous about this. You’d never even really shared any of your drawings with anyone, let alone actually drawn something for someone else. You told yourself that you shouldn’t care because this was a pity commission, but you couldn’t help but be a little excited about it.

A shadow fell over your table at lunch, and you didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“You’re blocking my light,” you said, finishing off a wing in the sketch.

“Sorry. That one looks good,” Tim said, setting down his lunch next to you and taking the seat. You looked at the one that he was pointing at and scrunched up your nose. That one was probably your least favorite.

“Weren’t you supposed to leave me alone?” you asked, twirling the pen in your hand. With your low-key obsession with markers you had actually gotten quite good at that.

“That was after you deliver the piece,” Tim said easily and started eating, while watching your hands and the paper. Your stomach growled. You hadn’t gotten dinner last night and barely got anything for breakfast. It doubled as punishment for that #2 and your mother also claimed that “you have to fit into the dress for the Wayne party, you know”. It would stop after a couple of days, you knew. You tried not to let it bother you too much.

“No lunch today? Here, take a cucumber sandwich. Alfred always gives me too many,” Tim said and pushed a sandwich into your hand. You took it more out of instinct than anything.

“Bribery isn’t going to get you what you want.”

“And that is?”

“We’re still just business partners,” you said, taking a big bite of the sandwich and oh God, you didn’t know that a cucumber anything could be so good.

“Of course,” Tim said immediately.

“So, unless you have some sort of patron’s mandate, I’d appreciate it if you let me work,” you said after finishing the bite.

“No, I’m not that kind of patron. You get full creative freedom, I’m just here to observe.”

“The only thing that you’re going to observe right now is how much everyone else wants to eat me alive,” you said, and indeed you were getting even more openly hostile looks and whispered rumors now that he was sitting with you for the second day in a row.

“Yikes, you might be right about that,” Tim said, also looking around.

“I’m always right,” you said, drawing a big ‘x’ through the sketch that Tim said he liked. “Now, scoot. Thanks for the sandwich.”

“Great. I’ll be back tomorrow to observe some more,” he said and stood up.

“Of course you will,” you said, starting a new sketch.

In accordance with his words, Tim stopped by at the beginning of lunch each day, sometimes even walking you from the math building to the cafeteria. Even though you would insist at every opportunity that you two weren’t friends, you couldn’t help but grow just the tiniest bit fond of his easy smiles and dry wit. You had no idea why he decided that he wanted to charm you specifically, but you knew that it would be working if it weren’t for the fact that everyone else in the whole school hated it. As long as Tim was around, they couldn’t do anything about it openly, but the moment that he left there was never even an attempt to keep the nasty comments and rumors from you. You did your best to ignore it.

“So, uh, not to rush you, but I was kind of hoping that the drawing would be done by the party tomorrow night,” Tim says on the fourth day you were working on it. You had gotten the outlining and base colors completely done, and were just working on getting the shading right. Tim had ‘observed’ the entire process with interest and you fielded technical art questions from him with some difficulty, since you were self-taught. He now spent the full lunch with you most days, though you pretended that you didn’t notice.

“It doesn’t look like it but it’s almost done. I’m really just putting on the finishing touches,” you said, making wide sweeping motions with the marker.

“You would’ve been done a long time ago if you had worked on it at home,” Tim points out. You look up at him, trying to discern any judgement in the words. Finding none, you sighed.

“Yeah, but I can’t take it home. My parents aren’t exactly the most understanding when it comes to hobbies that don’t involve the family company,” you said conversationally. “It’ll be done by tomorrow, I promise.”

“Have you shown them these? It’s hard to imagine anyone not being impressed,” Tim said, flipping through your math notes that were still left on the table. Almost every margin was filled in with doodles. You snatched the notebook back and glared at him.

“I just can’t, okay?” you snapped, a little surprised yourself at how upset you were.

“It’s okay. Sorry, then,” Tim backed down, looking just as surprised.

“No, I’m sorry,” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “I’m just stressed. Done by tomorrow. Got it.” You regretted snapping at what you would probably qualify as your only friend here. It was a little sad that you only had one friend now, and yet you still didn’t completely trust him to not just be using you for his own ends. To be fair, it’s what everyone did around here.

“I actually won’t be able to stop by tomorrow. You can bring it to the party,” Tim clarified and you looked at him incredulously. You had been trying your hardest to come up with a suitable excuse to not go to the party and had settled on forcing yourself to be sick, and even that only had a slim chance of working, considering who was throwing it.

“The party? But I-”

“Great! Thanks, I’ll see you then!” Tim called and made an abrupt exit. You swore that every time you decided that maybe you liked that boy, he would do something to remind you of why he, like everyone else, was the enemy. Now you really had no choice but to go to the party or else ruin something that you’d been carefully working on all week. This was the biggest (and best) piece of art that you had ever constructed and you’d be damned if it was going to just lay around unused like everything else you’d ever drawn. There was no way that he didn’t know that either. He had sat and listened to you get progressively more excited about it and now he was using it to lead you around by the nose. Like you said, that’s just what everyone did around here. You grumbled, but got back to work.

The party was something that your mother and father had been looking forward to ever since you announced that you were invited. They were leaving in the morning for an important business trip, but they had spent hours coaching you on etiquette and who to talk to about what. It was going to be held on Wayne Manor grounds and it had been the talk of the school for the entire week.

You patiently sat through dress fittings and had to sit there and deal with it when your mother tutted for the millionth time about how sleeveless was in, but you could never do those because of your ‘unfortunate skin problems’ which was what your soulbond was exclusively referred to as. You actually ended up liking the dress that was picked out, though. It was a deep champagne red with a flattering waistline and sleeves just sheer enough to let your arms breathe without revealing the coloring of your skin, which right now was covered in small bruises and one row of badly drawn stars. Even if they couldn’t be seen, you hoped that they would disappear before the party started.

It was extremely fortunate that your parents were out of the house for a while just then, because that made it exponentially easier for you to take the drawing home in a big art folder and then plan to just take it with you outright to the party, rather than having to come up with some elaborate scheme to ferry it over. You were absolutely proud of how it had come out. You had an irrational fear that Tim wouldn’t like it, even though he had done nothing but compliment the drafts since you started. Now, all that was left was to do it.

You arrived at the party perfectly on time, like most of the other kids who had serious cases of FOMO. It was like they thought that missing even one moment of a Wayne party was the difference between their companies failing and succeeding. At the door, you were greeted by an elderly gentleman that had to be Alfred, from Tim’s descriptions. He graciously directed you outside where all the other students were.

“Excuse me, Mr. Pennyworth, but I have something for Tim,” you said and indicated the folder. “He’s expecting it. Could you point me to where I can leave it for him?”

“Of course, Miss. If you’ll give whatever it is to me, then I’ll be happy to pass it along to Master Tim.” Alfred said, a fond twinkle in his eyes.

“Ah, artwork then? Might I have a look?” Alfred said, taking the folder in gentle hands.

“Uh, sure. He said it was supposed to be a gift,” you answered, still completely shy of people viewing your drawing. He flipped the folder open and turned it around to look at the picture right side up.

“This is absolutely beautiful. I’m sure that Master Richard will love it,” Alfred complimented, sounding completely genuine. You picked nervously at your sleeves and blushed. “I do believe that Tim would rather you hand it to him yourself, if it’s not too much trouble to hold on to until then.”

“Thank you. Sure. Is Tim already outside, then?”

Alfred gave a disapproving cough. “Unfortunately Master Bruce and Master Timothy were called away on urgent business. We are expecting them to arrive later in the evening.”

You felt all of your earlier enthusiasm melt away at those words. Tim basically coerced you to come to this stupid party and then he didn’t even show up himself? You did your best to keep your smile plastered on your face as you answered, “Alright then. Thank you Mr. Pennyworth, I’ll just head outside then.”

The short walk to the outdoor area was just long enough for you to really think about what was coming next. You were heading over to an isolated area with no one except the group of students who all hated your guts and Tim wasn’t even going to be there to make sure that the mean comments were kept to a minimum. This was going to be such a fun party.

You approached the fire, expecting everyone to at least pretend that they didn’t notice you at first, but heads turned as you picked your way through the crowd, looking at you expectantly. Finally Julie, one of the least bad ones, approached you.

“Hey, Y/N, where’s Tim?” she asked, getting straight to the point.

“Alfred said that Tim and Mr. Wayne are off on business and will probably get here later,” you informed them. When they looked confused, you added “Alfred, the butler.”

“Oh,” she said, and then wandered off. It took you a second to realize what was going on, but then it was clear that for some stupid reason, everyone had expected you to arrive with Tim, like you were dating or something. The public personal invitation followed by the lunches spent together did nothing but fuel that hypothesis. You blushed.

After that a couple of people wandered over with the same question and looked just as disappointed at your answer as you were frustrated at their questions. You were just plotting a way to get out of the party and back home when someone else came up.

“Hey, Y/N--” Robert started, but you cut him off.

“No, I don’t know where Tim is, he’s supposed to get here later,” you snapped, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s great, but I actually came over here to offer you this,” he said, holding out a small flask that he had gotten from somewhere in his coat. “You seem tense, and this’ll help. Lord knows it’s the only way I can get through these things most of the time.”

You stared skeptically at the flask in his hands. You hadn’t ever had alcohol before beyond the occasional tiny glass of champagne that your parents would press into your hands some nights at parties. You didn’t like how the bitter taste clung to your tongue for the rest of the night.

Looking around, a lot of people had noticed the exchange and were looking at you, trying to see what you would do.

“It’s fine. Pretty much everyone here’s doing it,” Robert informed you. You could already smell it on his breath.

“Why are you offering it to me?” you asked, still suspicious.

“To be honest, if Tim has decided that he likes you, then it wouldn’t hurt for us to get on your good side too,” he shrugged.

Ugh, just another thing that was happening to you because of Timothy. You were 200% done with him ruining your life, and in a moment of spite, you took the flask out of Robert’s hand. He gave you a smile and then led you over to his group of friends where you were greeted warmly. At least right now, you could pretend that you fit in with these people, you thought as you tilted the flask up and took a generous gulp. You had to stop yourself from coughing at the strong taste, but managed to be fine and pass the flask back.

At least Robert had been right about it making the party easier to get through. You stood in the circle, staying pretty quiet unless someone asked you a direct question and took sips of the flask whenever it got around to you. A warm feeling that had nothing to do with the bonfire started blooming in your stomach and soon you could even laugh with everyone else. It was also true that everyone seemed to be doing the same thing and you got a private kick out of knowing that these snooty, ultra-rich kids had been getting drunk together right under their parents’ noses.

It was all going so well, but then, of course, it had to end badly. People were mingling in and out of your group, most of them staying surprisingly pleasant to you throughout the night, but it was all interrupted by a rather loud, drunk, voice that cut through the air.

“It’s good to see a respectable family name back on the top of the school list, right?” It was Tyler, not even trying to lower his voice as he spoke to a circle of his friends just when you were conveniently close enough to hear. “Even if he is letting the riff raff into things like this.” His words were followed by mean laughter and general agreement. You looked around, but it didn’t look like anyone was going to say anything on your behalf. You’d known the whole nice thing had been fake, but you were still disappointed anyway as a wave of anger hit you.

“Well, if names are all that matter on that list, it’s pretty accurate that I haven’t seen yours posted up there in years,” you snapped over to him, loud enough to cross the distance. Fury stormed in his eyes as he pushed through his friends to make his way over to you.

“That’s funny, coming from some nobody girl that probably cheated her way up to the top, just like her parents have been doing,” Tyler seethed, probably referencing some of the more questionable business practices that you’d heard of on the news about your family’s company. “You probably keep all the test answers under those long sleeves of yours, huh? Or are the rumors true and you use them to cover up the scars?”

Your eyes flew wide, so surprised that he had gone that far that you didn’t react as he reached out and snatched one of your wrists, his other hand coming up to grab the sleeve.

“Why don’t we find out?” He said and started to pull it back. He yanked it up just as you were yanking yourself back, causing a loud ripping sound as the delicate fabric tore.

Well, mom wanted me to go sleeveless, you thought stupidly to yourself as you stared down at your bare arm, shame welling up in your middle. There weren’t even any marks on your arm this time, but years of conditioning made you automatically try to cover yourself up, while everyone else just stared or laughed. Tears welled up in your eyes as the pleasant buzz that had been getting you through the party turned on you and became a blur of embarrassment and anger. You hadn’t even noticed that you had dropped the folder until Tyler stooped to grab it and your heart stopped.

“What’s this? Were you going to give him a gift? I’ll just put this right where he would have the moment he was done being polite,” Tyler said and threw it over his shoulder, right into the fire. How could anyone be this nasty? you thought to yourself as you watched the paper slowly melt into nothing. No, all these rich kids were like that. You were done putting up with it.

“Fuck you, Tyler. And all of you fake assholes. You want to suck up to Timothy Drake so much? Fine, I’m not going to get in your way,” you said, your voice wet with anger. You then spun around and fled over the lawn back toward the manor to leave. You already had your phone in your hand, getting ready to call for your car to take you back early. As you passed through the manor, you thought about how absolutely furious your parents were going to be at you when they found out about it. You wouldn’t be surprised if they called you to tell you that they were coming back from their trip early.

You couldn’t stop the angry tears that dripped down your face as you walked and cradled your arm like you were injured. The alcohol that you had been sipping was affecting you more than you had originally thought, and you couldn’t help but to focus on your negative thoughts. That made you all the more surprised when you turned a sharp corner and nearly ran into a group of people.

“Y/N?” Timothy said, looking tired and shocked and seeming to take in your entire appearance at once, from your torn sleeve to the makeup smearing across your face. His face went from shocked to confused to horrified in less than a moment. You cursed the universe even harder for giving you what was turning out to be one of the worst days of your life. You registered that there were two more people behind Tim and you recognized Bruce and his oldest son, Dick.

“T-thanks for inviting me to the party, Mr. Wayne,” you said, trying for a polite exit like you had been trained all your life, but you were 100% sure that the image was ruined as you used your covered arm to rub at your eyes. It honestly might have come out as more sarcastic than anything, but you found that you really didn’t care anymore and you just pushed past the shocked men to get to the exit. You vaguely registered Tim calling your name, but you just walked faster, not wanting to have to deal with people anymore.

If the driver thought that anything was wrong with this picture, he thankfully didn’t show it, and gave you a ride all the way back to your front door, which took a while since you weren’t in the excessively rich Bristol neighborhoods that the rest of the student body resided in. You struggled with the lock for a moment before finally reaching sanctuary. When you got inside, you headed straight over to the cabinet that held your father’s liquor and grabbed a bottle. You’d never done anything remotely like this, which just meant it was remarkably easy. You unscrewed it and started taking sips straight from the bottle, letting your thoughts spiral for a while.

Why did you even care what everyone else thought of you? You didn’t want to. You wanted to put up a wall of indifference and ignore the rest of the world, but that wasn’t the world you lived in. You lived in a world where respect and criticism determined your entire worth. It felt so cruel to be so close to being comfortable in that world, but instead you had to work twice as hard for every bit of respect that was given freely to those with the right names. You’d thought you’d done everything right, but then one Timothy Drake had waltzed into your life and ruined everything.

After a while of wallowing and drinking, a tingling sensation went up your arm and you watched as another bruise formed through the soul connection. You took another drink. That was just another thing that marked you out as different. If you didn’t have to cover yourself up all the time because of these damn marks, you’d probably fit in more. Even better, having a soulmate was sort of a novelty thing around school and so you might have gotten positive attention for it if your soulmate wasn’t such a troublemaker.

Okay stop. Those were your parents’ words floating through your head. They’d made sure to demean your soulmate at every opportunity, confusing whatever feeling that you might’ve had about it from a young age. You thought about all the bruises that would show up, along with evidence of cuts and blood that sometimes stained your skin. As bad as you had it, you couldn’t help but think that your soulmate had it worse. You two really deserved each other, all right.

“Fuck it,” you said to the air and put the bottle down. If this is how your life is going to be for the rest of forever, you might as well take a chance on this connection that the universe had been pushing you to do. Your parents were already going to be furious. No sense in backing down now. You got up and wobbled a little bit as you went for your backpack. You’d had to clean out your locker for the end of the school year and had decided to keep the set of markers that Tim had got you. You pulled out the first one your hand touched.

For the first time since that day when you were nine, you sat with a marker inches above your skin, trying to figure out what you wanted to write. Everything that came to mind seemed too meaningless. Plus, the thought of words on your skin sent involuntary shivers down your spine, since it was something that you always associated with pain and embarrassment.

And how messed up was that? Your parents had managed to convince you so thoroughly that your own skin was something ugly, something to be ashamed of, that even the thought of putting anything on it was making your heartbeat speed up. That was going to end now, you decided, and knew what you were going to write. You pressed the pen down on your skin and drew the first line. If your skin was something ugly, then you’d make it beautiful. You were going to draw a flower for every time that your parents had made you feel hideous. Every time that your classmates made you feel ashamed. Every bruise that you’d shared with your soulmate.

A bit dramatic for your first ever communication with your soulmate, you knew, but you were drunk and feeling dramatic at the moment. The relief that you felt after years of resisting the urge to write encouraged you to keep at it, and soon enough you’d covered your entire left arm in colorful flowers like a tattoo sleeve, and then you yanked the dress over your head so that you were only in your underwear and continued down your chest and your stomach. If you’d had your way, you’d get all the way down to your ankles before you stopped, but after hours and hours of working, you fell asleep on the floor of your room, markers still in hand.

-

Interlude:

It was not a good day for Tim. First, Bruce had put him through a brutal workout at the crack of dawn on his supposed day off, and then the rest of the morning had been spent helping Alfred and Dick with the party preparations. It was all going to be worth it tonight, though, when he got to see Y/N at the party. It was a little bit mean of him to have forced her to come like he had, but he knew that without the incentive there was no way that she would show up. It’s what he would have done, after all.

They were just putting the final touches on some of the indoor decorations when they got the call. Nygma was rumored to be at it again. Just an hour before the guests were set to arrive. Normally, that would have made Tim’s day, getting to solve some riddles instead of being at a stuffy party, but tonight he was sorely tempted to ask Bruce to count him out, since he had Dick for backup anyway, but that would have probably led to Bruce thinking he was an imposter, while Dick pestered him with endless questions about why he was doing this for some girl. He sent out a silent apology to Y/N and followed Bruce and Dick down to the cave to do the required case research before they would go out tonight. It would mean being late to the party, but Bruce never really needed to remind him that Robin came first. He would get all the reading done as quickly as possible and then sneak down to catch the end of the party before patrol.

It was going surprisingly well. Tim didn’t know whether it was because he was anxious to get going and therefore sharper in his observations, or if Riddler was losing his touch, but by the end of a couple of hours he had significantly narrowed down a list of possible locations and was fairly confident that he knew the answers to some of the posted riddles and then excused himself to go down and mingle. Bruce, very surprisingly, agreed and said that they should all take a break before patrol. The three of them were heading down the hallway when they saw her.

Y/N was rushing down the hall to the entrance, so caught in her own thoughts that she had almost run straight into him. At the sight of her, he felt the familiar fondness well up in him, but that was quickly squashed as he took in her appearance. She was crying, the silent tears making what makeup she had run down her face. She reached up to dab at it with her sleeve, and that drew his attention to her other sleeve, which had been ripped up the seam. He had, of course, heard of the skin condition that she had, which is why she kept herself covered up all the time and a pit of fury ignited in his stomach to think that someone had intentionally done that to hurt her.

“T-thanks for inviting me to the party, Mr. Wayne,” she stammered out, sounding completely robotic, and then fled past them.

“Y/N!” Tim called out and started after her, but then thought better of it when she quickened her step to avoid him. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to be alone right now.

“Friend of yours?” Dick said, looking back at where she had disappeared.

“... Business partners,” Tim said after a moment, realizing that he didn’t want to talk about it to Dick and Bruce. “She was supposed to have something for me tonight.”

“Ah, yes, that was the young miss with the folder,” a new voice said, and everyone looked to where Alfred had emerged from the main room where all the adults were, drying off his hands with a towel. “Perhaps she left it with one of the other students?”

Yeah, no way. “Sure, maybe. I’ll go look,” Tim said, and then continued down the path to where the rest of his classmates were supposed to be. Everyone just stared after him. He made his way through all of them, saying hi and acting like a Wayne heir should, looking for any sort of information about what had just happened to make Y/N like that.

No one said a word about what happened, and when he asked, all he got was answers that she had left a while ago. No mentions of a folder. He didn't stay long at the party after that.

Four hours. They spent four hours casing out the spot that Tim had picked out from the evidence without a trace of seeing anything suspicious. Tim shouldn’t have been surprised, more often than not this was how the job went. It wasn’t all glamorous fighting and arch-enemies that people seemed to expect, but the worst part of the night was that he couldn’t get Y/N off his mind. The look of complete misery that had been on her face as she had walked away from him made his heart hurt more than he knew what to do with. They got back to the cave and he was trying to figure out how to make it up to her as he peeled off his suit.

“Uhhh, Tim?” Dick’s voice came from behind him. It sounded strange. Tim turned around to face Dick and Bruce, half naked.

“What?” He asked, noticing that they were both staring at him in shock. They’d all changed in the cave dozens of times together, he wasn’t sure why this was a big deal now.

“Did you get some tattoos that you forgot to mention to us?” Dick asked, a smile forming on his face.

“Wha-- oh shit,” Tim said, looking down at himself and seeing almost every inch of his skin covered in intricate flowers. It took a while for his brain to catch up to what was happening.

“Awww, Timmy’s got a soulmate,” Dick cooed, approaching Tim. “And quite the artist, by the looks of it.”

Tim looked at Bruce. Bruce sighed.

“We’ll talk about this later, but for now,” he threw something in the air, which Tim instinctively caught, “You’re Timothy Drake.”

Tim looked down at the object in his hands. It was a marker.

-

You woke up on the floor of your bedroom with a pounding headache. You checked your phone to figure out what time it was and saw multiple missed calls and texts from Tim, but a wave of nausea hit you before you could try to read them and you stumbled your way to the bathroom and threw up what little contents you had in your stomach. After you were done, you walked to the sink to wash out your mouth when you caught sight of the mirror.

Oh, right.

What you had done last night came crashing back to you and your heart sped up to see your uncovered arms covered in flowers like sleeves of tattoos. They continued down your body and ended somewhere mid-thigh, half-finished. You briefly took a moment to consider how well you’d actually managed to draw in your drunken state. There were vines crawling up and down your body, connecting the flowers into an intricate weave of colors. You couldn’t help but feel a warm glow at seeing the ink on your skin, like this was how you were supposed to be.

The warm glow stopped when you realized what this meant for you. You’d opened something that could no longer be closed. In a panic, you looked over the skin and found what you were looking for right above your right knee.

Hello?

It was like your soulmate hadn’t wanted to write over the flowers that you’d drawn, which some part of you appreciated, but most of you was just panicking that your soulmate now knew that you existed and you couldn’t take that back. You rushed to your room and picked up one of the markers scattered around the floor.

You hesitated. Without the alcohol inhibiting your doubts, you never would have done that. With a clear head now, it was proving incredibly difficult to go against years of conditioning and write back. You pushed through it anyway.

Sorry, you wrote just under the greeting, then paused for a moment and continued. That was a mistake.

You were surprised when the familiar tingling feeling immediately started up, and you watched the letters form. Your soulmate was obviously waiting for your reply. You wondered how long ago they had written the first one.

Wait. Who are you?

Instead of answering, you returned to the bathroom and turned the shower on. You were going to get all this off of your skin before your parents could come home and end your life. The flowers seemed to melt off your skin under the spray and you watched as colors swirled down the drain. You let yourself not think about anything the whole time you were washing yourself off, since thinking too hard only made the headache worse.

You were feeling human again after you had showered, brushed your teeth, and took some ibuprofen. You wrapped yourself in a fluffy robe and then finally let yourself plan out what to do next. Looking down at your leg, the notes from your soulmate were still written, even though you had washed away your replies. A new note on the inside of your right wrist caught your attention.

Please talk to me, it read.

You were briefly thrown off by the pleading note, but then you tried to put yourself in their perspective and understood. After years of nothing (most soul bonds manifest between the ages of 9 and 12), they had probably woken up with most of their skin inexplicably covered and then had gotten a cryptic and frustrating response back before it all disappeared.

You sighed and then checked your phone again. You deleted all of the messages and voicemails from Tim without looking at them. It was still his fault that you were in this shitty situation and you’d meant it when you said that you weren’t going to get in anyone else’s way. There was still nothing from your parents, which meant that word of your public mini-breakdown hadn’t yet reached their ears. Feeling a bit more safe, you made a cup of tea and then settled yourself onto your bed with some markers. Your soulmate deserved at least an explanation, and if you were being honest, you were lonely. You thought that you’d had at least one friend at school, but now you knew that there was literally no one in your life that you could talk to. You weren’t about to ignore your soulmate’s attempt to do just that.

Y/N. Names don’t get through the link, but I know who you are. You wrote. It was yet another cryptic message, but you were beyond caring. You wanted to see what he would do with it.

What? How? The immediate reply came through.

Not just ink that gets through the bond, it’s any markings on your skin. It doesn’t take a genius to connect that you’re Robin. Either that, or you’re being terribly abused and I should call CPS for you. You wrote out the chunk of text, surprised at how much it filled your arm even with the small letters. It seemed like your anxiety was rising proportionally to the amount of skin dyed purple and black by your markers.

Isn’t one of those way more likely? Fair question.

About a year ago, there was some footage of Robin getting his arm cut open in a fight with Penguin. It was the exact shape and length of the mark I got at the same time. After that I knew.

You mean that time when I broke and spilled a red pen all over me? Is that why you never wrote anything back to me? Because you thought I was Robin? You narrowed your eyes at the words for a moment. So that’s how he was going to play it. The writing had gone as far as you wanted to go on your arm and so you switched back down to your legs.

No, finding out that you’re Robin was just another reason.

There was a pause where you were sure that the obvious question was occurring to him.

How long have you known about having a soulmate?

A while. You didn’t want to admit how long it had been. You couldn’t admit how long it had been without him asking why you had waited and that answer was something you definitely didn’t want to talk about.

So why didn’t you want to talk before now? And what changed? You closed your eyes for a moment. Of course he wouldn’t want to just drop it. He was Robin, no matter what he said. You debated about it for a while, and then decided that nothing really mattered. You were already talking to him, so why stop now?

It’s my parents. They’re super controlling and they stopped me from saying anything.

That sucks. I kinda get it, though, my parents might’ve done the same thing. His reply was surprisingly sympathetic when you had expected anger. It made you want to know more about him. You tapped the pen against your skin a few times, trying to figure out what to write next. Before your brain could catch up to what you were doing, you started doodling small snails out of the dots that you had made, like you were writing in your math notebook. You stopped immediately when you realized what you were doing. With a pen in your hand it was just natural to doodle.

You’re good at drawing, the words formed just under the snail before he added a little hat on top. You let out a little giggle.

Thanks. Your lists are scary. Batman stuff, I’m assuming? You wrote back, trying out your theory again.

Nope. I just like to be informed on things. I jot down things that I want to remember to research later. Not Robin. Another lame answer.

Bummer. It was fun looking up ‘Oleander’ though.

With Poison Ivy around it’s probably better to know all those poisonous plants. Pause. Also, you didn’t answer my other question. Why write to me now?

You considered for a moment. Teenage rebellion?

I support that. You laughed.

It’s just hard. They’re expecting a lot from me and it feels like no matter what I do, it’s not enough. The words felt tingly over your skin. You had never had anyone to talk to about this, and it shocked you how honest the words felt.

Trust me, I get that too. It’s like I’m trying to be this idealized version of myself instead of just actually being me. He wrote back, and you were shocked by his equal sincerity. Maybe he needed someone to vent to as much as you did.

Are we talking about Batman, or your parents? You asked, too curious to stop yourself. He could deny it all he wanted, but you were sure.

Parents.

That’s rough. You sympathized, not enough of a dick to keep pushing your Robin theory when he was obviously opening up to you a little.

It’s kind of nice to be able to talk to someone about this for once. Everyone else who knows me thinks my entire life is perfect.

Sounds lonely, you replied, remembering the exact feeling that had prompted you to talk to him in the first place. It seemed that you two had more in common than you first thought.

Well, now I have you to talk to, right?

Yeah, you wrote back, warmth filling you up. You do.

For the next couple hours the two of you talked about nothing together. You didn’t stop until every inch of reachable skin was covered in letters instead of flowers. You were thankful for the tingling sensation that came with it or you might not have been even able to find his next reply. After that initial topic’s honesty, the two of you steered into less heavy topics of getting to know each other. Just a lot of complaining about school and parents and asking him whether he could do a double backflip (he said no). You learned that he really liked coffee (of course he did, he was Robin) and you embarrassingly revealed that your drawing habits had developed through trying to avoid him. You still expected him to be mad at you for that, but he just complimented you again on your skills.

The conversation ended with him saying that he had to go and that you should probably both shower off all of the words on you before bed. You couldn’t help but be a little bit relieved after your second shower of the night that all traces of ink were off your skin. Talking to him had been nice, but you doubted that you’d ever be fully okay with the thought of marking up your skin. You got into bed and were about to turn out the light when you felt one last tingle on the inside of your wrist. You smiled softly and read the message, but didn’t reply back.

Goodnight.

So I was wondering. You haven’t tried to figure out who I am at all, or suggested that we meet up. You wrote on your arm from the couch a few days later. You’d been talking to each other almost nonstop for the next few days while your parents were still on their trip. The day after the party they had phoned you to tell you how disappointed they were in you, but any punishment had to wait until the start of the next week when they got back.

Neither have you, he pointed out.

I kinda figured that since you’re Robin you wouldn’t want me to find out. You sketched out a little Robin symbol next to it while you waited for his reply. You had become way more lax about indulging the urge to sketch pictures along with your conversations now. He never seemed to mind, and sometimes would sketch back, though you noted with some amusement that he was terrible at it.

Let’s say I’m Robin. If I started asking questions and then some random guy showed up at your door, you’d now know both of my identities. That could be dangerous. Hypothetically. You rolled your eyes. He was still denying being Robin, though now it was half-hearted at best.

Dangerous?

Yeah, if one of the rogues somehow found out that you knew who I was they could use you to get to me.

You thought about, well, any of Gotham’s rogues even coming near you and failed to repress a shudder. The only things that you knew about them came from the evening news, but that was enough.

Well, speaking of danger, my parents are going to be home tonight, you wrote along your arm. I would appreciate you washing all this off before they catch it.

Did you just compare your parents to the Gotham rogues?

You’ve obviously never seen my mother when she’s angry. You scrunched up your face at the reply. The hard part about this was that with texting, you could type a message and then delete it before anyone saw, but with this he was literally watching you write it, spelling mistakes and all. You couldn’t help but be jealous at how few he himself made when writing.

You were also wary about talking to him about your parents. You knew that some of the things that they did were pretty shitty sometimes, but even though he’d been nothing but understanding, he just didn’t get the complex situation that you were in. He had carefully asked a few probing questions about your home life, which you had promptly dodged in favor of talking about anything else and were grateful when he seemed to reluctantly accept the change in topic. You’d tell him when you were ready, not that you thought you would ever be.

Your parents coming back was another headache that you had to deal with. Punishment for the failed party came fast and hard, complete with skipped mealtimes and lots of yelling. After a few days, though, it settled into cold looks and scathing comments. Those you could deal with. You continued your chats with your soulmate only when you were beyond sure that you weren’t going to get caught. Most of the time it was in the middle of the day when your parents were at work and you were left to study at home in the short time you had left before you started your summer classes at the university.

Getting to know your soulmate was always a bright spot in the otherwise lonely days where your parents ignored you. You learned that he liked photography and computers. He was always quick to make a witty remark and sometimes you found yourself laughing out loud and hugging his writing close to you. He seemed resigned to the fact that you thought that he was Robin, now, and just kept up enough to have plausible deniability. Despite yourself, you could feel yourself falling in love with him little by little.

Classes started all too soon, and you were driven over to the campus for most of the day to attend. They were all so much more interesting than your high school classes, but for some reason, more and more you were finding yourself using the time to scribble random junk all over your wrists and arms. In true soulmate fashion, just the act of putting ink down on your skin felt like it was scratching an itch that you’d had for years.

You drew a circle in the upper right box of the game of tic-tac-toe that you were currently playing with your soulmate while you listened to the chemistry teacher drone on in the background. You had several other games scrawled along your arm and you noticed with some amusement that he would let you win sometimes.

Hey, can I ask for some advice? His handwriting showed up just under the unfinished game. You were actually beginning to learn how the speed and shape of his writing correlated to his ‘tone’. Here, you could tell that it was hesitant from the slow writing and the careful letters.

Sure, you replied, interest piqued.

I have this friend that I’ve been getting closer to, but I totally messed it up, he wrote. How do I apologize?

You felt a twinge of jealousy run through you, but then you forced it down. He was your soulmate. He probably didn’t like anyone else now that he was talking to you. Right? The two of you had never really talked about it like that, though, and you thought that maybe this was his roundabout way of telling you.

Well, you replied thoughtfully. I guess it depends on what you did.

I guess I kind of stood her up? He replied after a moment.

You didn’t like that phrasing.

Why weren’t you there? You responded, ignoring your rising panic. Robin stuff?

Important stuff. He wrote back, pretty much confirming it in your mind.

I’m sure she’d understand if she knew that, but I’m assuming that it’s a no-go?

Right. He immediately wrote back and then scribbled it out, causing you to have to pause to cover up your laughter. At this point he had to be doing it on purpose.

She’s not responding to any of my texts or calls, he continued on. She’s probably really mad at me. I messed up. She’s literally the only person that I can stand in my school and I messed it up.

Go find her and apologize if you’re really serious about this girl, you wrote.

Well, I guess, we were working on a project together and I thought that we were getting somewhere. I’m actually not sure that she likes me.

I thought that you were friends?

No, I guess you’d say that we were more business partners, he wrote and you froze at the words. There was no fucking way. Right? Could Tim Drake be Robin be your soulmate? You read through the last couple of messages again in the right frame and… it fit. Unless you were just making it fit for your own sake.

You grabbed your wrist and jumped to your feet, gathering up all of your belongings and ignoring all of the frustrated looks you got from the other students while you left class. You were grateful that you had chosen a seat somewhere near the back so that you could doodle.

You got out of the lecture room and headed for the door out of the building to get your thoughts together. Tim Drake, Robin? No way. He couldn’t be. This is just some crazy coincidence. The chances that the girl that your soulmate was talking about could be you were incredibly slim. But maybe…

There were a couple of Robins before the current one, you knew from just the general gossip. Tim Drake had just become the ward of Bruce Wayne, who had previously adopted two sons and the second son had died some time ago. Wayne certainly had the funding…

You got lost in connecting everything that you knew about Tim and Robin, becoming more and more sure that that was going to be the case. You didn’t even notice that your legs were walking you back to your car until you got there, and told the driver to take you home. That had been your last class anyway, and you doubted that you could concentrate enough to get through another lecture even if it wasn’t. You spaced out along the whole car ride home.

When you got there, you were still on autopilot, going to the door and unlocking it and letting yourself in. You snapped out of it a little bit when you realized that the door was already unlocked. It was always locked when you got home.

Unthinkingly, you pushed the door open and you were met with the sight of your parents just arriving home. You stepped in and closed the door behind you.

“You’re home early,” you commented to them, taking off your bag and putting it on the rack next to your mother.

“Yes, we--,” your mother began, but then cut herself off. “What’s that on your arm?”

You snatched your hand away, dropping your bag on the floor in between the two of you and took a step away from her. Hiding your wrists.

“Nothing,” you said way too quickly and mentally cursed yourself for not washing off anything visible after classes like you usually did.

“Let me see your hands then,” your mother asked, holding out her own and looking at you expectantly.

“No,” you protested, knowing that you were already caught and trying to delay the inevitable.

“Give them to me,” your mother snapped and reached out and grabbed your arm in her claw-like grip. She yanked it forward, which yanked you forward, putting you off balance as she lifted up the sleeve of your shirt.

“What is this? Honey, come look at this,” she yelled and there was the sound of quick footsteps over to you as your dad walked back to the entryway.

“Y/N! I thought that we told you to never contact them again?!” your dad went from calm to yelling quickly.

“Dad! I--” you started, but were yanked by your mother over to the kitchen sink. It was so much like the first time that you were already in tears. She turned on the water and let it start to get hot. You pulled against her, sobbing, but her grip was like iron. She pushed your sleeve even further up and the writing didn’t stop until almost your shoulder. She gave out an angry snarl.

“Oh god, it’s all over you,” she said in disgust.

“Give me her arm,” your dad commanded, appearing from nowhere. He proceeded to grab your other arm and uncap a big black marker. He wrote something in big letters, ignoring everything else that was already written. It was clear enough, though.

DON’T CONTACT HER AGAIN.

“Mom! You don’t even know who it is. It’s--,” you said, pulling out the only card that you had, but you didn’t finish before your mother struck you as hard as she could across the face. Red exploded in your vision and you were pushed off of your feet and onto the floor, hitting your head on the corner of the counter on your way down.

“Don’t talk back to your mother!” your father yelled as you fell to the floor.

When your vision cleared down to just a pulsing red, you stumbled back to your feet and put your hand to your head. It came away wet. You slowly started to feel through the pain that there was something warm running down your face.

“We asked you to do one thing for us. ONE THING. But you couldn’t even manage that. We provide so much for you, and you treat us like this?” your father continued, cold and controlled now instead of yelling, but still making you stumble back in fear. “If you don’t understand that, then you can spend a night without it.” He shoved you backward and you managed to keep your feet under you. He walked toward you threateningly and you backed up until you were back next to the door where you started. He reached around you and pushed the door open, ignoring your flinch, then gestured for you to get out. You turned and fled, afraid to stay one more second in their presence. You heard the door slam shut behind you.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and kept walking, needing to feel like you were getting away from there. Tears were still pouring out of your eyes and mixing with the blood. You wiped both away with your sleeves as best as you could. You pressed your hand to your head again and after you got over the pain of touching it, you felt that it’s just a small cut right behind your hairline. You vaguely thought about things like ‘head wounds usually bleed more’. You’re so caught up in everything that just happened that you didn’t even know where your feet were taking you. The sun sank lower.

The fresh air was helping you think more clearly and the slight breathlessness from your quick pace was making you feel more grounded in your body. You kept your eyes on the sidewalk as you let your thoughts take over.

It was getting dark. You suddenly came to yourself when you spotted something on the ground that caught your eye. It was an old ballpoint pen. You picked it up and twirled it in your hand through muscle memory and then suddenly sat down on the ground and leaned your back up against the building behind you. You took a look around for the first time and it hit you just how far you’d gone from your house. You’d unconsciously walked yourself right into one of the parts of town that your parents had warned you about. The fear made you think a little more clearly. You clicked the pen in your hand.

Robin? You wrote, right on the back of your hand, which you had always left clear until now because it was too visible.

Are you okay?! The reply came back quickly and you realized that he was probably really worried about you after what just happened.

I’m fine, you wrote back automatically, trying to reassure him.

What happened?

Your hand paused above your skin, debating for a moment whether you were going to lie or not, but you found that you simply didn’t have the energy.

My parents found our marks because I was an idiot and forgot to wash them off, you wrote, switching to your leg when you ran out of space. Things got a little heated. It was an accident. It technically wasn’t a lie. Mostly.

An accident? You were bleeding down your face and you have a huge mark. The ink was dark, like he was pressing down too hard on his skin.

It’s okay. It’s over. I’m not there anymore, you tried to steer the conversation.

Where are you?

I took a walk. He should have known by now that you can’t tell him places.

It’s already getting dark. Where are you? He asked, the writing coming fast and sloppy, like he was trying to also do something else.

You know we can’t say places.

His response was to draw a vaguely island-shaped blob and split it into fourths, writing the directions in each corner. You took the hint and then circled the one that you were in, guessing it to be Gotham City. You knew that anything more specific would be blurred out. The two of you had tried once as part of the many soulmate experiments that you had done while you were bored.

Can you get to the place where Batman and Robin were last spotted with the Riddler? You remembered that you had talked about that just last week. You vaguely knew where that was, even though this wasn’t completely your side of town. There’s a 24 hour coffee shop just across the street from that. I’ll meet you there in 20.

Sure, you wrote back, a little shocked that he actually wanted to meet you. Now that you knew that it was Tim, though, you were less reluctant. You already knew Tim and seeing a familiar friendly face right now seemed like it would be amazing. You pushed to your feet and got your bearings a little bit before turning down the street and heading in what you thought (hoped) was the right direction.

Thankfully, you made it right to the spot where you wanted to go and sure enough you saw a neon lit sign across the street that advertised an open coffee shop. You approached and walked in, then realized that you looked like a total mess with blood all over your hands and sleeves and quickly walked back to the bathroom to clean up. You did the best that you could and looked at least presentable when you were ready to walk back out. Couldn’t really do anything about the shirt, though.

When you sat down at a table, the barista in the front gave you a sympathetic look, but kept working. You were just glad that she wasn’t going to kick you out for not ordering anything like they usually would have in Gotham. You didn’t have any money on you at the moment since you were thrown out of your house.

You waited, staring at the clock as the minutes went by. You could handle twenty minutes.

The sun had started to set by the time that your soulmate was 15 minutes late. You were starting to lose hope. Hope was replaced with anger. If Tim had called you out here just to not show up again, you were going to really never contact your soulmate again this time.

You were just starting to really stew in your anger when you noticed the first of the marks. They were on your hands. You had washed off all of the visible marks on your hands (from your side of the conversation at least) when you were washing the blood off. Now, next to the words you saw the familiar signs of split knuckles from your soulmate. You rubbed your thumb over them, wondering how long they’d been there since you hadn’t felt the telltale tingle of writing. You watched as both of your wrists started turning red.

“Uhhh, miss?” someone’s voice startled you out of watching your hands. You looked up to see an older man looking over at you in concern and when he saw that you were paying attention, he gestured to your face. “Your nose is bleeding.”

“Oh, uh, sorry!” you said awkwardly and then quickly got out of your table and dove back into the bathroom. You looked into the cracked mirror and saw that the man had been right, there were two red lines running down your nose, smeared in some places. There was also a red mark over your eye.

For a second, you just stood there, confused as to what was going on. Then you realized that Tim must’ve ran into trouble while he was coming here to see you. You lifted your shirt and sure enough there was a large mark on your side that was already starting to bruise. Someone had gotten the drop on Tim and had him tied up tight, if the marks on your wrists had anything to say about it. Your breath started coming faster. What were you supposed to do?

The answer came in the form of a tingling that started on your right arm, the arm that both of you never used (though he claimed that he was ambidextrous). You watched horrified as thick letters started to appear on the arm, smeared in a red that you could only assume was his own blood.

P I E R

It was a lot of blood, you realized, and then looked for the source. It didn’t take long to see that your right arm, in addition to all of the class conversations and your father’s writing, there was now a big blotch of red just under your shoulder that was spilling down over your arm. It looked like a gunshot.

After waiting a moment, it was clear that that was the only thing that you were going to get. You stared at it for a moment, horrified, then realized that he was trying to tell you where he was. Great. Now what?

It took you a moment to remember that that’s actually where you were, too. Pier 24 was the place that Batman and Robin had last battled the Riddler. You looked out the window to see the short warehouse that made up the small pier. He was so close. You exited the bathroom and then quickly made your way out of the coffee shop to avoid the stares of the very few customers who were in there. Bursting out into the cold air, you looked out at the warehouse across the street like it would spit out Tim if you stared hard enough. It didn’t. The warehouse looked completely abandoned to your untrained eye.

You did notice that there was a side door with some stairs leading up to it. That was probably going to be your best bet if you were going to go and check it out. You started walking toward it without thinking about it.

You started to think about it when you reached the start of the stairs. This was completely insane. You were just going to go in there and… what? You had no plan, no experience, and no idea what was going on in that warehouse. The only thing that you did know was that Tim was in there, and he was hurt. That alone was enough to send you cautiously creeping up the stairs as fast as you dared. You were the only one that knew where he was and you didn’t have time to hesitate.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you found the door already cracked open. You looked through it. Inside, there was a second story loft with a drop off, and a soft yellow light coming from below. You crawled forward, trying to make the least amount of noise that you could. When you got to the edge you peered down and saw three men standing over someone on the ground. You saw enough to see the colors on the slumped body, though. Tim was down there, as Robin. Looking closer, you saw that Robin was awake and glaring at the three men, though his mouth was taped over.

“What do you mean you just found him here?” one of the figures asked in a thick Gotham accent.

“I mean, we were just here when the kid bursts in and isn’t paying attention until we club him over the head,” the other one answers, sounding scared.

“Do you know who that is? And you tied him up and beat him? We can’t just walk away from this. HE’S going to get involved now.”

“So, what do we do?” the third figure spoke up for the first time. The second figure seemed to ponder that for a second.

“Nothing to it. Abandon the mission. We kill him and run,” the second guy said, apparently coming to a decision. The other two men opened their mouths to argue. You sucked in a sharp breath of shock at the words and then slapped a hand over your mouth, praying that the men below wouldn’t hear you. You were heard, it turns out, but by Robin, who’s eyes snapped up and locked with yours as you laid belly down on the edge of the loft. When he saw you, his eyes widened in shock and his entire body tensed. The three men were all arguing now, but you couldn’t make out about what as you stared your soulmate in the eyes.

After a second, he seemed to get over the shock of seeing you and then he jerked his head to the side. You followed his gaze to your right and saw a sharp metal ‘R’ buried in the wood in the pillar next to you. It looked like he wanted you to get that for him. You shimmied over to the right and wrapped your hands around the weapon, prying it loose and only getting one shallow cut across your palm for your trouble. You bit back your hiss of pain and looked for a way to get down there to hand it to him, but you didn’t immediately see one and it looked like the men were quickly coming to a consensus. One of them pulled their gun from his waistband.

“Here!” you called, standing up and tossing the ‘R’ over to Tim. You prayed that it would land within reach and effectively distracted everyone else in the room long enough to where they didn’t shoot Tim in the head.

“Get down!” Robin yelled and you dropped down just as the first gunshot rang through the night. That had all happened so quickly that you didn’t get the chance to see whether your throw had made it or not. You heard the sound of fighting below and two more gunshots, causing you to scream and hold your hands over your ears. It was over quickly, though.

“What are you doing here?” a voice asked, from right next to you loud enough that you could hear. You realized that you had been squeezing your eyes closed along with your ears and you opened them and let your hands go down to push yourself up so that you could see who was speaking. Your eyes were met with a bunch of green and red and you could cry in relief.

You grabbed the hand that Robin had extended and let him help you up. He proceeded to look you over thoroughly, like he was cataloging every injury. You tried to shrink away from his analytical gaze and instead chose to answer his question.

“What am I doing here? You told me to come here,” you said, finding your voice.

“Not here! You were supposed to call Batman,” Robin said, sounding exasperated.

“How was I supposed to call Batman?” you said incredulously, surprised at the amount of annoyance in your voice.

“Anything was probably better than you running in here and getting shot at!” Tim said, matching your tone exactly.

“Well I’m sorry that we don’t have a thought-sharing bond. All I got was a single word, not a list of detailed rules!”

“The word was written in blood!”

“That’s even worse!” you protested, frustrated tears starting to fall down your face. “You were like two seconds away from being dead if I didn’t come.”

Robin looked shocked for a second, and then seemed to calm himself down. “Thanks for saving my life, then,” he said, stepping closer and wiping a tear away from your face with a gloved hand. Then it lifted up to gently move your hair away from where the cut in your hair had started to scab over. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” you laughed a little hysterically. “Look at you. Are you okay? You got shot.”

“Part of being Robin. Besides, it barely nicked me,” he tried to shrug it off, but then winced a little bit.

“Oh, so now you’ll admit that you’re Robin,” you huffed and it made him smile despite himself.

“Who’s Robin?” he asked, joking darkly.

“Not funny, Tim. You could have died just now,” you complained and he stiffened. You realized your slip up and put your hand over your mouth, eyes wide.

“Yeah, it makes sense that you figured it out,” Robin muttered to himself. “B is going to kill me.”

Then he looked up sharply at you. “Speaking of parents…” he prompted and then continued when you stayed silent. “We should probably talk about that.” He gestured vaguely to your forehead. “I know a better place than this, though, so we should go there first.”

A glance around him showed that the three guys tied up on the ground and knocked out were far from waking up, but you were more than happy to move somewhere else.

“So I got some really good advice from a friend recently that said that I should just go find you and apologize in person,” Tim said casually, leading you down to the bottom of the warehouse where he picked up a bag and started digging through it.

“Sounds like good advice to me,” you said, glad that he wasn’t going to dig into the whole parents thing right away.

“I am. Sorry. For not being there at the party. I’m assuming something terrible happened,” Robin said, turning around and looking you in the eyes.

“I’m sorry too, for assuming that you set it up to make fun of me,” you mumbled.

“Friends?” he offered, along with his hand.

“Soulmates?” you countered, taking his hand and giving him a small hopeful smile, which he immediately returned.

“Eh, business partners,” he decided, his smile turning into something entirely mischievous that fit the Robin costume all too well.

“Prick,” you said, rolling your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help but laugh. He seemed relieved, but then his smile dropped as though he remembered everything that had just happened.

“I’m going to change out of this and then we’re going to go to one of my safehouses that’s three blocks away and talk about… everything,” he said, not really giving you any room to argue.

“Fine,” you relented, noticing the high of the adrenaline coming down and being replaced with exhaustion. “You’re sure you shouldn’t go to a doctor first, though?” you added, worry lacing your voice.

“I’m more worried about you,” he said, stepping closer and hesitantly putting a hand up to your cheek. The two of you were so close that you could almost feel his breath. Your face heated up. “I hoped that it was you, even though I couldn’t be sure. The things that you’ve told me about your parents…”

“It’s nothing,” you started, but he cut you off.

“It’s not nothing. It shouldn’t be nothing. And if you’ll let me help you, I can make sure that nothing happens ever again,” he said, looking into your eyes and sounding completely serious. You let the moment last, trying to wrap yourself completely in the feeling of safety that he gave you.

“Tim?” you breathed.

“Yeah?”

“I was hoping that it was you, too.”

He leaned forward and kissed you gently. You felt the rush of the soul bond connecting and melted into it, knowing that you had found your other half.

Chapter Text

The diner was small, relatively clean, and, most importantly, open at 3 am. Jason, Roy, and Kori shuffled their way up to the hostess stand, all scanning the room for threats. When they didn’t see anything, they slumped over in relief. It had been nonstop action for almost a week straight and they just wanted to get some food in peace before heading back over to the safehouse for a long overdue nap, though Jason knew that he never slept well in Gotham these days.

“Just the three of you?” the woman at the stand asked, looking like she was half-asleep herself. She didn’t even stare all that much at Kori’s halfhearted disguise which Jason was sure the orange alien appreciated.

“Yeah,” Jason answered for them. “The corner booth in the back please.”

“Sure thing,” the hostess answered, stifling a yawn, and then pulled out three menus, leading the way to the corner that Jason had specified. As soon as they were settled into the booth, the kitchen door slammed open, making all three of them pause and look over, but it was just another server walking backward out of it with a full tray of food in her hands.

“Jenny, I’m dropping these off and then heading out,” the waitress called out and the hostess gave her a wave of acknowledgement and the trio relaxed. Then the waitress turned around and her eyes passed over them on her way to her table. She did a double take.

The tray in her hand fell to the ground with a loud crash.

Jason already had his hand on the stock of his gun, the girl was staring right at him, eyes wide. He was about to make a move toward her, but she pulled her eyes away from him and bent down, starting to clean up the mess that she had made. The sound of the falling and broken glass seemed to ring in the air for a moment before the hostess excused herself and went over to go help the girl. Someone else from the kitchen, this time a man, also came out to help. They seemed concerned for the girl, who was trying and failing to subtly keep an eye on Jason. Jason swore that he had seen her before somewhere, but he was having a hard time placing her.

After a whispered conversation, both other people helping the girl looked up at him and then they shooed her off. She stood up, took a deep breath, and then turned toward the trio at the corner booth. She didn’t even take a step before the jingle of the bell signaled another customer entering.

“Mommy!” A kid no older than four rushed over to the waitress and threw himself into her arms. He buried himself into her so that the only part visible about him was his top of black hair. She caught him, distracted and then bent down to talk with him.

“Look what I made you today!” The kid said excitedly, his voice carrying across the room. He handed her a piece of paper, which she gently took from him and inspected.

“Wow, for me? Thank you, baby!” The waitress said, and ruffled the kid’s hair. He was practically beaming.

“James, you have to slow down,” another voice called out, and a different woman entered the diner, looking flustered. Her eyes landed on the falled tray in front of her. “Oh wow, that’s a mess.”

The waitress sent yet another panicked look over to Jason’s table and then walked up to whisper something to the woman that had come in with the kids. Jason was starting to remember where he had seen the girl before, and a deep feeling of dread was washing over him, giving him the feeling that cold water was slowly being poured down his back.

“Should we leave?” Roy asked in a low voice Jason, also watching the scene play out in front of him and noticing how tense Jason was. Jason didn’t answer, still undecided.

The waitress folded the piece of paper up and put it in her apron while the other girl that she was talking to scooped up the kid and fled into the kitchen. This time, the waitress didn’t hesitate when she turned and walked over to the table of tense outlaws. She stopped right in front of them and they all seemed to size each other up.

“Hi. Jason, right?” she asked. Her voice was the last thing that Jason needed to remember her from that nightclub all those years ago.

“Y/N.” Jason said, and she looked shocked, like she wasn’t expecting him to remember her. To be fair, he almost hadn’t. He had still been in a pretty bad place with the lazarus pit influence when he had had a very inadvisable one night stand to take his mind off things.

“Yeah, well if you remember, then there’s uh, something that you should know,” she started, faltering and glancing at the other two at the table. “If we can just talk for a moment.”

“You’re going to tell me that he’s mine, aren’t you?” Jason asked, motioning his head over to the kitchen where the boy had disappeared. Roy and Kori beside him stiffened in shock, but he kept his eyes on the girl. He wanted her to deny it and say that she wanted to talk about something else, but like with most things in his life, he had no such luck.

“Yup,” she said, holding his gaze as if trying to discern his reaction to the news, but he kept his poker face up. They both knew that the only way that that was possible was if the two of them were soulmates. It was just his luck to have a random hookup be his soulmate. The odds were extremely slim, but the universe seemed to want to screw him at every turn. A myriad of different emotions ran through him.

“Look, I know that this is a lot to dump on you right now, all of a sudden. And, um, the circumstances at the end being considered--” she took a deep breath there and Jason couldn’t blame her. Ending a hookup with shooting a man who had broken into the room would definitely count as ‘circumstances to be considered’. She pulled out a pen and notepad out of her apron and wrote something on it, then ripped the paper off and put it on the table in front of her.

“Here’s my number. Take a day-- or a week-- and think it over and then call me if you decide that you want to talk,” she said. Jason made no move to take the paper, just stared down at it. “No pressure. And Jason?” she asked, biting her lip in uncertainty. He looked back up at her in acknowledgement.

“I don’t want any trouble.”

With that, she disappeared into the kitchen and he didn’t see her again.

---

It took three days for Jason to call. You were sitting in your little apartment at the kitchen table, laptop shining your budgeting spreadsheet in your face almost mockingly. Your phone started to buzz with a call from an unknown number. At the moment, you weren’t thinking about Jason calling, so it caught you off guard when you answered and his voice came through the other end.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Jason. I’ve been doing some thinking and I think that I want to talk some more, if that’s still okay with you,” he said, voice sounding uncertain, but practiced.

“Oh, hey. Yeah that’s fine,” you answered, chewing on a pencil.

“Great. How about Insomnia on 25th at 4?” he asked. You were a bit impressed that he already had that prepared. Also a bit suspicious.

“Hmmm I’m busy tonight. How about Chameleon Caffeine on Grant, tomorrow morning at 11?” you offered instead.

“Sounds great. See you there,” he said, and then hung up without waiting for a response. You looked over at your phone and then sighed. This was going to be a whole nother headache for you. You’d never actually expected to see him again after you couldn’t find any sign of him when you found out that you were pregnant.

It was pretty clear that you weren’t going to get any work done for the rest of the night and so you closed your laptop and then picked up your phone again, this time dialing your best friend Angelica’s number.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” she answered, probably wondering why you were calling her instead of just sending a text.

“Jason called.” There was a crash on the other end of the line and then Angelica’s voice came back, sounding frantic.

“He did?! Oh my gosh, tell me everything,” she said, like she hadn’t already demanded that you call her the moment that you heard from him.

“Not really much to tell. He just said that he wanted to talk more and then we set up a coffee date tomorrow morning,” you said, mentally preparing yourself for her ire.

“That’s it? He didn’t say anything else? Like maybe an apology for not being there for you for the past four years?” she complained.

“For the last time Angelica, he had no idea that I was even pregnant.”

“Okay fine, then how about an apology for ditching out when there was a guy bleeding out in your apartment?”

You remembered the night in detail. It had been your 21st birthday party and your friends had brought you to one of the nicer (which meant shadier) nightclubs in Gotham. They had all bought you a copious amount of alcohol and that’s where you had first come across Jason.

He had seemed nice enough, if not a bit mysterious. The two of you had danced and then you had invited him back up to your room at the insistence of your friends. You’d spent a passionate night together and he had stayed over. Surprisingly, he was still there when you had woken up in the morning.

You’d gone to the bathroom and there had been a couple of loud crashes and the sounds of fighting. You crept out of the bathroom and grabbed the loaded gun that you kept in your apartment (hey, it’s Gotham) and then saw that someone had indeed broken into your apartment and had a knife to Jason’s neck. You shot and hit him in the torso. He went down and Jason had told you that there were more of them and then left you there with a man bleeding out in the middle of your apartment. That had been the last time that you had seen him. Until the diner last night.

“He said that there were more people after him. He probably didn’t want to lead them straight to me,” you said. It was not the first time that you had told her that.

“And the fact that there were people after him doesn’t worry you at all? What about James? He’s probably some kind of criminal and you shouldn’t meet him. It’s too dangerous,” Angelica said, also something that the two of you had discussed before.

“He’s my soulmate, Angelica, doesn’t he get some benefit of the doubt?” you reasoned, but you were still not completely convinced of your own words. You knew that sometimes soulmates didn’t work out, though it was rare.

“Maybe you just have a shitty soulmate, girl. It happens. It might be dangerous to meet with him. Evan and I will come with you to make sure that he doesn’t try to pull anything,” Angelica said, not giving you any room for argument.

“Isn’t this kind of a personal thing? I don’t think either of us want you two sitting there while we talk about this stuff,” you pointed out.

“Fine. We’ll go to the coffee shop and sit at a different table then. We just want to make sure that you’re safe.”

“That’s still a little weird, but I guess I can’t stop you,” you sighed. “It’ll be fine. If he was a terrible person, then he probably wouldn’t have even called back.”

“We’ll see.”

The next day, you rushed into the coffee shop a few minutes late. James had been being fussy, like he could tell that you were nervous, and then his daycare had held you there for another ten minutes while they explained to you why being late with dropping off your kid wasn’t acceptable. You scanned the room and saw that he was already there, sitting at a table by himself. You also spotted Angelica and Evan there, trying their best not to look too conspicuous and making you roll your eyes.

You approached Jason’s table and he looked up to watch you walk over. You noticed that he was holding a cup of coffee between his hands already. He looked tired.

“Sorry for being late. I’m going to go get a cup, if you don’t mind,” you said, taking off your big Gotham rain jacket and putting it on the chair across from him. “I think this conversation calls for caffeine.” His lips twitched up into a half smile and he made to stand up.

“I’ll get it for you,” he said, but you waved him back down.

“No need. I got it.” You were put a little more at ease because he had offered, but this wasn’t a date and you needed to show him that you were at least capable of getting yourself a cup of coffee. He just shrugged and took another sip of his drink.

“Be right back,” you said, and walked up to the counter, glad that there wasn’t a line and that you wouldn’t be keeping him waiting for too long. As it was, you felt his eyes on you while you waited for your drink to be poured.

You returned to the table with a coffee in your hand and then this time you sat down. There was an awkward silence that seemed to stretch for forever as the two of you considered each other. Finally you decided that you needed to break it.

“So, you wanted to talk more?” you prompted, fully aware that you were throwing the ball in his court.

“You’re absolutely sure that he’s mine?” Jason asked after a moment, looking all sorts of conflicted.

“Very sure, but if you need it, we can get a test done,” you answered easily, having already thought that he might ask that. It was a fair question, after all. Jason just nodded absentmindedly.

“So, I get that this is probably a really big surprise for you. And that it’s not something that you planned for or maybe even wanted. I had to make a decision and I swear that I looked for you, but I didn’t have a whole lot to go off of so I’d seriously understand if you don’t want to have anything to do with--” you were babbling because you were nervous, a bad habit of yours.

“Y/N, calm down,” Jason said, lifting a hand to stop your words. “Let’s back up here. When did you realize that you were pregnant?”

You took a deep breath, a little bit grateful that he seemed calm about this all because you were not. Actually, he probably wasn’t either, but he was just better at hiding it than you.

“It was a couple of weeks after that night. I missed my period and so I took a test and it came back positive. It could only have been you, it’s not like I ever do stuff like that…” you said, blushing a little to be talking about this to a stranger.

“And so then what did you do?” he prompted.

“I went back to the club and asked around about you, but no one there knew you and you didn’t exactly give me a last name, so there wasn’t a whole lot that I could do,” you said, remembering the shock and panic from back then. “My friends convinced me that you weren’t coming back and that I had to make a decision.”

“Your friends,” Jason repeated, his eyes glancing over to where Angelica and Evan sat across the room, trying not to pay attention to what was happening between the two of you.

“Yeah, they said that I couldn’t go alone because it might be dangerous,” you replied, and then looked back at him, realizing that that might have been just a little bit rude.

“Good friends,” he commented, then sat back in his chair. “Mine should be somewhere around here too. They want to make sure that you’re not trying to trick me or take advantage or some shit.”

Take advantage? You thought blankly. What does that mean?

“Oh god, you’re rich, aren’t you?” you groaned the words out as you had the realization, then regretted it immediately. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Just, forget that I said that. I don’t want anything from you, really. We’re doing fine on our own.”

“Then why meet with me?” He seemed genuinely curious.

“Because I figured that you at least deserve the chance to know your son. If you want to,” you said quietly. He looked a bit shocked, like you had just put into words a concept that hadn’t had time to sink in for him yet. You probably had. He recovered by taking another drink from his coffee, but then remembered that it was already empty. You gave him a small smile.

“What’s-- what’s he like?” he asked, a little apprehensive.

“He’s the best,” you said, immediately, knowing that you could talk about your kid all day. “He’s super excited to start kindergarten. He wants to be an astronaut, for the moment. Last week it was a pilot. Before that, an artist. He always has so much energy and he’s the sweetest kid that you’ve ever met.” Jason watched your face closely as you spoke. You realized that you might’ve gotten a little sappy there, and you blushed. After a moment, he smiled.

“Sounds like a great kid,” he said.

“Mmmhm,” you hummed confirmation. “He’s my whole world. And so, why are you meeting with me?” you asked, your smile falling. Last night, all of your friends had been texting you, saying how adding another person into your and James’ lives could be potentially disastrous. He could hate kids, or he could do more harm than good, or he could sue for custody and take James away from you completely. Especially if he was rich. Your fears must’ve been showing on your face because he was looking at you, a concerned expression on his face. A long silence passed between the two of you.

“My parents… weren’t the best. My father wasn’t really around all that much and my mother died when I was pretty young,” he finally said and your expression changed into one of sympathy. “I want to do better.” He said it with conviction. Enough to where you could put aside your fears and give him the chance. One chance.

“I get that,” you said, apparently sincerely enough to where he looked up in surprise. You figured that he was going to find out soon enough, so you launched back into your story. “When I couldn’t find you, and after what happened, I knew that I had to keep the baby. I thought that maybe it would be my only chance.” He gave you a look. “What? You said that there were people trying to kill you. I had no idea whether they did it or not.”

“... fair enough,” he conceded.

“Yeah, well my parents didn’t like that logic at all. They’re… traditional. When I told them that I was pregnant and keeping it, they kicked me out and cut me off,” you said miserably. He went from looking shocked to looking outraged on your behalf. You could swear that his eyes flashed bright green, but it was gone so fast that you couldn’t tell whether you imagined it or not. You continued on quickly, wanting to get this over with. “I dropped out of school and worked three jobs up until James was born so that I could save enough for a while. And my friends were all there for me the whole time. We’re over the worst of it, and I’m taking classes now so as soon as I get my degree then I can get a better job and we’ll be fine.”

“What the hell, Y/N, that’s awful. You--” he started, but you cut him off.

“I’m not telling you this because I want your pity, or whatever. I’m just letting you know how much I’ve sacrificed for this kid. You can’t take him away from me, not when we’re so close to--”

“I’m not going to try to take him away from you. Jesus, what kind of person do you think I am?” Jason said, and you realized that you’d let your biggest fear slip out. At least he had assured you that it wasn’t true. You relaxed, not noticing how tense you were until now. Jason scrubbed a hand over his face, looking tired, and said, “I want to help you. However you’ll let me. On whatever terms you want.”

“Oh,” you said, staring at him, wide-eyed.

“If it’s money that you need, then it’s really no issue. I’d like to meet him, but only once you’re okay with it. I’m definitely not in any position to be taking care of a kid full time. I’m still just trying to wrap my mind around this whole thing,” he confessed, looking at you a little helplessly.

“Oh,” you repeated stupidly, then shook your head to clear it a bit before saying, “Well I can work with that. How are you with kids?”

“Uhhh,” he said, obviously thinking of something that he didn’t want to say. “I have a little bit of experience.”

“Okay, that’s something. I think that this is going to be something that’s going to take some time. Do you live in Gotham?” you asked, starting to mentally put together a schedule of how things would ideally progress.

“Yes? But I’ve been traveling a lot for the past couple of years. I do have a place around here, though.”

“Where are you traveling? What do you do?” you asked, curiously. This was something that you wanted to ask the whole time that you were here, but you’d got a bit sidetracked.

He didn’t answer for a while, just looked like he was desperately trying to think about what to tell you.

“You’re not some kind of criminal, right?” He didn’t seem like he was especially evil, but he did have people trying to kill him when you’d first met him. In Gotham, that might not have been terribly uncommon, but the reasons why were very important to whether you’d want him to meet your child or not.

“Alright, listen, I’m not a criminal. At least, not in the way that you’re thinking. When I met you, my life was kind of a shitshow and I’ve made some mistakes. I can’t tell you what those were, or what I do right now,” he held up a hand when you started to speak, cutting you off and continued, “but I’ll check some things and then decide when or if I can tell you. If I decide that I can’t say, then I completely understand if you want nothing more to do with me and we can go our separate ways.”

You mulled this information over in your mind for a while. He was staring you straight in the eyes, trying to convey how honest he was being.

“I believe you. And if it was just me, that might be enough, but the last thing that I want is to put James in danger in any way,” you said, keeping eye contact.

“That’s the last thing that I want too. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that that never happens.” He said it with the seriousness of a vow. You felt a shiver run through your spine and you got the feeling that he was being perfectly serious about that. Maybe it was a soulmate thing.

“Are you going to be sticking around for this, then?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. If he was going to be gone for long periods of time, then this probably wasn’t going to work out.

“I can try to stay around the area for a while,” he said, and you noticed that that wasn’t the same sort of promise that he said earlier.

“Look,” you said, sighing, “you either need to commit fully to this, or back off. If you pop in and then leave, you’re just going to hurt James more than if you just stayed away. He’s already starting to get to that age where he’s asking about you, and my answers are going to have to be consistent.”

“He’s asking about me?” Jason murmured.

“Mmhmm,” you said, then continued. “I’ve just been telling him that his daddy is away because I had no clue what to tell him, but now you need to figure out what to tell him and stick with it.”

“What would that look like? If I wanted to be a part of his life?” Jason asked, suddenly looking focused.

“Consistency would be the most important thing,” you said, after thinking for a moment. “You’d need to commit to a schedule of either seeing him in person, or calling. No deviations. Once every week or every two weeks at least. And we’d take introducing you as his father for the first time slowly.”

Jason nodded, lost in his own thoughts.

You sighed again, “But I’m not going to go any further without knowing more about you, so step one is figuring out whether you want to tell me or not. I can give you some more time. I’m on the same shift this weekend at the diner. If you can drop by again, we can talk more then?”

“Sounds good,” Jason said, still looking a bit distracted.

You got up, collecting your empty cup and rain jacket, and then gave him a small smile before saying goodbye and walking out of the coffee shop, followed closely, you noticed, by Angelica and Evan. You knew that the moment that they caught up with you, they’d demand that you tell them everything that was said during the meeting. And then they’d probably tell you that meeting him again is another bad idea. They hadn’t seen his face when he was saying that he’d keep James out of danger, though. You couldn’t help but believe him about that.

---

“Dude, calm down. I haven’t seen you this worked up since that time that Dick told you that he was going to drop by because you needed to talk,” Roy said, putting his hand on Jason’s chest to stop him from pacing across the room for the hundredth time.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Roy. I have to leave to go meet Y/N in like five minutes, and I still haven’t decided what I’m going to tell her,” Jason growled and slapped Roy’s hand off of him. “And for the record, that was the day that Dick told me about Damian, so I think it’s perfectly reasonable for me to be worked up.”

“Just text her and tell her that you need more time,” Roy reasoned.

“And then look like a total flake if I decide that I want to tell her? The whole point is deciding whether I can keep to a schedule or not,” Jason said, agitated.

“She may understand. She has been reasonable thus far, yes?” Kori said, from where she was sitting on the counter of Jason’s safehouse kitchen.

“Yeah, man. Better to say that you need more time than to rush an important decision,” Roy, of course, agreed with Kori.

“I know what I want to tell her, but I just don’t know whether it’s a good idea or not,” Jason said, still sounding frustrated.

Roy opened his mouth to say something, but Kori put her hand over it and said, “Explain.”

Jason gave her a dirty look and then said, “I want to tell her everything and convince her to let me spend time with my son, but she’s right to be cautious. What if one of my enemies finds out that I have a kid? Then they could target them to get to me and I promised that I wouldn’t put them in danger. I can’t keep a promise like that.”

“You promised that you would do everything that you could to not put them in danger. There is a difference, yes?” Kori said, and Jason was once again annoyed that they had been listening in to that entire conversation. “I do not think that that is what is bothering you, though,” Kori continued and was, as usual, right on the mark.

“What if I end up just like my father? Or worse, Bruce? I don’t exactly know what it looks like to be a good dad. And she seems to have it all figured out. What if I come in and ruin whatever good thing it is that they have going on. Maybe it’s better if I just stay away,” Jason finished, feeling a little bit foolish to be baring his fears out like this. He wasn’t exactly used to having friends that he could talk to about this kind of stuff.

“Jay, just the fact that you’re thinking about this already makes you a better dad than your father was,” Roy said. “No one knows how to be a parent, it’s something that you just kinda have to do. I’m pretty sure about that, anyway.”

“Thanks, Roy, that’s some solid advice there,” Jason said, rolling his eyes.

“Roy is not incorrect, Jason. You said that she has it all figured out, perhaps she can help you learn to do it too,” Kori said. “If you want to be with your son, then you should not be stopping yourself for reasons such as this. This could be your one chance to do it, since human children are so rare.”

“Yeah, Jaybird. Don’t let your stupid dad take away your chance to know your son and soulmate. Or Bruce,” Roy encouraged, then rubbed Jason’s shoulders like a wrestling coach trying to amp up his athlete. “Go get ‘em.”

Jason shrugged off Roy’s hands and then rolled his eyes again at them. “You know, it’s no fair when you two team up against me,” he complained.

“We have always been on your side, Jason,” Kori said with a smile.

“Time check,” Roy sang, and then Jason looked at his watch. Seeing the time, he crossed the room to grab his coat and open the door.

“We’ll be listening, don’t worry!” Roy called after him and Jason glared back at him.

“Fuck off, Roy!” Jason called and flipped him off before disappearing out of the door.

“They grow up so fast,” Roy said, shaking his head after Jason had left. Kori punched him in the arm hard enough to leave a bruise.

Jason made it to the diner with a couple of minutes to spare, though he spent those outside the door because he needed to catch his breath before he walked in. He’d been so focused on getting there in time, that he hadn’t had a chance to think about exactly what it was he wanted to say. There wasn’t time for that now either, though, so he pushed his way in and heard the bell on top of the door ring. When the hostess looked up and caught sight of him, a wide smile stretched across her face and she immediately led him to the same booth that he had sat at last time he was here and asked him if he needed anything. He asked for a glass of water and nothing else.

After a few minutes, he caught sight of Y/N, clearing off a different table. She looked over at him staring and then signaled ‘one moment’ and disappeared into the kitchen. When she came out, she wasn’t wearing her server’s apron anymore, but she was smiling gently as she walked over to his table and sat down across from him.

“So, I take it that you made a decision, then?” she asked, sounding strangely curious and also neutral at the same time.

“Yeah. I want to do it. I want to meet my kid, so I’ll follow any requirements that you have,” he said, and her smile grew wider and more genuine.

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said.

“You are?”

“Yeah, studies show that children with a two-parent structure are more likely to succeed later in life,” Y/N said, automatically like it was something that she’d been thinking about for a while.

“That’s just statistics,” Jason said, dismissing her. She just shrugged.

“So, about that ultimatum that I was talking about earlier…” she prompted, getting right to the point.

“Yeah, so I’ll tell you everything, but you have to promise to keep an open mind,” Jason said, then realized how bad that sounded. She raised her eyebrows at him.

Better to just rip off the band-aid, Jason thought, and then said softly so that only she could hear, “I’m the Red Hood.”

“Oh, thank god,” she breathed, and it was his mouth that dropped open in shock.

“Whaaa?” he asked stupidly. He had been so sure that he was going to have to sit there and defend himself in front of her to convince her that he wasn’t an actual supervillain.

“Sorry, I mean gasp,” she said and then covered her mouth with her hands in fake shock. He glared at her for a moment, and then she broke out into giggles. He glared at her harder.

“Sorry, sorry, okay let me explain. It could have been so much worse. At least the Red Hood has a reputation for protecting women and children. I’d call him more of an anti-hero than anything else. You could have been, like, one of Joker’s henchmen or something.”

“Okay, no. There’s absolutely no fucking way that I’d ever work for the Joker. And also, haven’t you been following the news? I’m pretty wanted at the moment for murder,” Jason said, trying to defend himself and then realizing that he wasn’t helping his case.

“Jason, I’m a Gothamite. I keep a gun in my dresser that I used to shoot a guy. I’m not going to hate you for doing basically the same thing. Now what I am worried about is that you have plenty of enemies. You’re not just wanted by the police, every crime lord would like to get their hands on you. And also there was that thing with Batman,” she mused, sounding like she was talking more to herself than anyone. He must’ve made a face when she mentioned Batman, because she looked up at him after that.

“The thing with Batman might actually be a problem. James loves Batman. As he’ll tell you. At length.”

Jason rolled his eyes. Of course his son would love Batman. Of course.

“You don’t have to worry about that thing with Batman. We were just working out some personal issues,” Jason reassured her. “It’s over now.”

“... Personal issues. With Batman,” she repeated incredulously, sounding like she didn’t believe it. Jason snorted. She could take the fact that he was the Red Hood in stride, but what shakes her is that he knows Batman. He guessed that the general public didn’t know that he was a former Robin. He didn’t want to talk about that with her, but he guessed that he would probably have to sometime.

“Did you do it?” she asked, taking him out of his thoughts.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Work out your issues with Batman?”

“More or less,” he shrugged. “We’re not on the best of terms, but at least we’re not fighting anymore.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, looking like she was the one still lost in thought now.

“So did I pass?” Jason asked, getting impatient.

“Pass?” she asked, focusing back on the conversation.

“You wanted to know who I was before you’d consider letting me meet James. Did I pass?” he asked again.

“Maybe? I feel like I’d need to know more, but I guess for now I’m more worried about whether someone will come after James if they find out about him,” she said slowly. He could see the fear creeping up behind her eyes. At least it wasn’t fear of him.

He sighed, “That might be a possibility. I can’t one hundred percent say that that will never happen, but I know what I’m doing. I’ve been trained by the best and I can keep things secret. Like I said, I promise that I’ll do everything that I can to make sure that you two stay safe. That’s all I have to offer for you, at the moment. I guess it’s up to you whether that’s enough or not.”

She chewed her lip, deep in thought for a while. Then, just as he was about to break the silence and tell her that it’s okay if she says no, she nodded. He closed his mouth so that she could speak.

“Okay, sure. You can have one chance,” she said, making her decision.

He straightened up. “Really?”

“Yeah. What kind of person do you think that I am?” she asked, parroting what he had said that earlier, with a tentative smile on her lips. “He’s your son too, and if you really want to be a part of his life, I’m not going to stop you.”

A smile came to Jason’s lips, unbidden. Before he knew it, he was smiling harder than he had in a very, very long time.

“Okay then, what’s first?” he asked, looking eager to get started. She couldn’t help but smile along with him. She pulled out her phone.

“We’ll need to set a schedule for contact. How often do you think that you can commit to?” she asked, probably pulling up the calendar on her phone.

“Once every other week at least,” Jason answered immediately. He’d actually put a fair bit of thought into this. Even when he had been in space with Kori, there’d been an opportunity to send a message home within that time frame. Even though he’d prefer to interact with James in person when he could. Saying it out loud made it sound more real.

“So… let’s say, Fridays every other week, at least?” she asked, still looking at her phone.

“Sure. I’ll let you know whether it’ll be a call or in person. Did you save my number in your phone?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly.

“Delete it,” he said, seriously. She looked up at that, confused. He pulled out a burner phone from his pocket and handed it across the table to her. She hesitantly reached out and grabbed it, their hands barely brushing. “This is programmed to follow my burner number changing system and it has the latest encryption system installed. It’ll delete all texts within 24 hours. If you don’t respond to me within 48 hours, I’ll come find you.” He handed her something else, this time a small smooth piece of metal about the size of a quarter with a button on top. “That’s a panic button, press it and I will come find you right away. Keep it on you at all times.”

She stared at him, eyes wide.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I know it’s a bit much, but I was serious when I said that I was going to do everything that I could. You’ll probably never need this stuff but… it’s an occupational hazard.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, turning the panic button in her hands and then putting it in her pocket. She still seemed a little shaken, but he felt ten times better now that she had that. He would have given it to her no matter what her answer about him was.

“That’s it for my stuff. So, when do we start?” he asked, trying to lighten up the mood. She looked up at him and he was almost scared for a moment that she was going to back out, but then she spoke.

“My friend Angelica takes James when I have late shifts like this. She comes and drops James off here before she starts her own shift. If you want, you can meet him really quick before we go. You don’t have to if it’s too sudden,” she said, seeming to recover a little bit.

Jason was a little stunned that it was going to be so soon. He thought he had been so prepared, but he wasn’t for this. He didn’t actually think that he could ever be prepared for this, so he agreed. “Uh, sure. That sounds nice.”

“We can just introduce you as a friend for right now to sort of ease him into the idea.” Y/N used her phone to send a text.

It didn’t take long for the kitchen door to swing open and two people to walk in. A woman and a little boy. The boy’s head swiveled around the restaurant, looking for his mother. When he found Y/N, his face broke out into a huge grin and he pulled away from the woman to run over.

“Mommy!” he squealed in delight and when he reached her, she reached down and swung the little boy up into her lap. Jason was reminded of the scene that happened a week ago, but this time it hit him differently as he watched the interaction between mother and child.

“Hey baby!” Y/N said and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek, which he immediately rubbed off with a complaining groan. She just laughed. “Look, there’s someone I want you to meet. This is Jason, my friend.”

The boy turned to look at Jason and Jason had a hard time keeping a straight face on. If there was some doubt that this was his son, it was a lot less now. James looked like a carbon copy of Jason when he was young, with the exception of the eyes. His eyes were bright green. Just the same shade as Jason had now, but didn’t before the pit. Jason wondered for a second whether the fact that he was a zombie would affect the kid in any way, but he was interrupted when the kid spoke.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he said, like he had practiced it. Then he held out a tiny, adorable hand. His face was scrunched up into a serious look like he was trying to act very professional. Jason held back a laugh, but couldn’t stop smiling as he reached over and took the kids hand in his, giving it a big shake that made the kid break his composure and giggle. Jason wondered if he had ever been that happy as a child.

“It’s nice to meet you too… James,” Jason said and then let go of the kid. He had to pause for a moment to swallow back all of the sudden emotions that he was feeling. It had been getting more and more real from the first moment in the diner, but now, Jason had met his son for the first time and there were so many thoughts spinning through his head that he was sure he was going to get a headache. He wondered whether this was what Bruce had felt like when he met Damian. Or him.

The kid had lost interest in him now that he wasn’t saying anything, and then turned over to Y/N, tangling one hand in the collar of her shirt. The other woman had made her way over to them now, too, and she had her arms crossed, looking over at Jason critically. That must be Angelica.

“Mommy, guess what? Lucy gave me a milkshake! With sprinkles!” James said, practically vibrating in excitement.

“Yes. Just what I need. A heavily sugared up three-year-old at 3 in the morning,” Y/N groaned, but she was still smiling. She glanced at Jason and they shared a smile together.

“Three and a half,” James huffed, crossing his arms.

Y/N laughed again and said, “Excuse me. Three and a half.” Then to Jason, she added, “He has no idea what that means.” Jason chuckled.

“Alright baby, we should get going. It’s way past your bedtime,” Y/N said, putting him back on the ground and then standing up herself. “Thanks for watching him again, Angelica,” she added to the waitress standing behind them.

“Not a problem at all. You have the sweetest kid,” Angelica said, smiling down at James and then returning her gaze to Jason, who had also stood up.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Angelica and then said, “Angelica, Jason. Jason, Angelica. She’s my best friend and she watches James a lot of the time when I can’t.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jason said smoothly.

“Pleasure,” Angelica said back, but was now directing her glare back at Y/N. They seemed to have a silent conversation for a moment that ended with neither of them backing down.

“I swear I’ll call you tomorrow,” Y/N assured Angelica and she narrowed her eyes.

“You’d better.”

“And we’ll be in touch?” Y/N asked, this time directed at Jason.

“Of course. Here, let me walk you out,” he offered. Angelica glared at him again. Y/N lightly hit her shoulder and she looked away.

“Sure, that sounds fine,” Y/N said, then reached down and grabbed James’ hand and started walking slowly over to the door. Jason fell in step next to them, sneaking glances down at James when he could. The bell jingled as they exited the diner and walked into the cool night air.

“Up?” James’ voice came from below, and they both looked down at him. He was making a puppy dog face the rivaled Dick’s while looking up at his mother.

“Fine,” she sighed, then grabbed him under his arms and hefted him up with an exaggerated sound of strain. “You are getting far too big for this, little one,” she said, and he just wrapped his arms around her neck and buried his face in her shoulder, closing his eyes. Evidently the sugar high was coming down quickly.

“I’m going to be in town all week, at least. I’d like to see you again, if you can convince Angelica not to bite my head off,” Jason said with a joking grin on his face.

“We’ll see if we can work something out. I hear she might take bribes,” Y/N joked back. Then she said quieter. “I’m assuming that you don’t want anyone to know what we talked about.”

“That would be preferable, yes,” Jason said, getting a little bit more serious.

“My lips are sealed, then, but I’ll have to think of something to tell my friends,” she murmured, mostly to herself. “I’ll think of something.”

“Just tell them that I’m really rich and that it was a kidnapping attempt,” Jason said, waving it off. “That usually works. Anyway, speaking of, there’s one more thing that I wanted to give you before I forget.” They stopped in front of a beat up old car that Jason assumed was hers and he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. She was watching him warily as he pulled out a stack of bills and offered them to her.

“I told you that I’m not after your money,” she said, keeping her voice level.

“I believe you, but this is me giving it to you. It’s literally the least that I can do,” he insisted. “You’ve already done so much and now I want to help too.”

She considered him for a moment, but when he didn’t take his hand back, she reached out and grabbed the bills, stuffing them into her pocket. “Only because flashing that much cash in a parking lot in Gotham at night is just about the stupidest thing that you could be doing,” she hissed. James stirred at the movement.

“Say goodbye to Jason, James,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.

“‘Bye,” James said, looking up at Jason with tired green eyes and holding onto his mother’s shirt.

“Bye,” Jason echoed, a little sad that they were leaving so soon. That had gone a lot better than he had thought, and he didn’t want it to end. “I’ll text you,” he added to Y/N, who smiled back at him sweetly and then opened the door and started settling James into the car. Jason walked back in the direction of his safehouse, running the whole conversation over in his head and already planning on when he would be able to see them again.

---

You and Jason were sitting on a blanket spread out on the grass one month later, watching as James used his hands and feet to climb the stairs up to the top of the slide. When he got to the top, he looked around until he spotted the two of you and then gave an excited wave, which you both returned, smiling up at him. He went down the short slide with a squeal, barely stumbling at the end when he had to jump off, and then immediately ran around the play structure to do it again.

“Jason, I wanted to talk to you about something,” you started, and he looked wary.

“Yeah?”

“So far, you’ve given me cash after every time we’ve seen each other. I finally counted it last night, and it’s over six thousand dollars,” you said, still a little shocked. You hadn’t actually been using any of the money, but it didn’t look like it surprised him.

“And?”

You stared at him blankly. He met your gaze, face questioning like he really didn’t understand what you were on about.

“Jason, that’s like two whole months of work for me. I can’t just accept--”

“It’s yours. Don’t even worry about it, Y/N. I was going to give you more today too,” he assured you, but you just narrowed your eyes.

“No one’s going to come looking for all this cash, are they?” you asked what was really bothering you. It was the reason that the cash just sat in your fireproof safe in your closet.

“Definitely not. It’s all mine. Now yours, then,” he said, rolling his eyes. You glared at him for a moment. He’d better be telling the truth. The last thing that you wanted was to have another nighttime visitor in your apartment. “Seriously, Y/N, take less shifts and get some sleep or something. You’ve done everything for the past four years, I owe you. Use the cash.”

“You didn’t even know that James existed,” you muttered, but it was pretty clear that he wasn’t going to budge on this. You both paused to wave at James on top of the slide again.

“This seems a little domestic for an ultra-rich vigilante crime lord. I’m kind of surprised that you came,” you commented to Jason, who snorted.

“Vigilantes can be SO domestic. You have no idea,” he dismissed, not really looking phased. He muttered something under his breath and you thought you caught the word ‘Nightwing’, but didn’t hear anything else.

“Are you talking about Nightwing? Is Nightwing super domestic?” you asked, knowing that he’d make the same face that he always had when you talked about the Bats, but also not able to stop yourself.

“Everyone knows that, right? Why else would he take Robin out for ice cream every week?” Jason said, questioningly.

“Wait, that’s true? I thought that that was just one of those rumors,” you asked curiously, filing away this piece of information to talk to James about later.

“You sure want to know a lot for someone who doesn’t want to be put in danger,” he challenged.

“Oh, come on. Knowing what flavor of ice cream that Nightwing likes isn’t going to get me kidnapped by Two-Face,” you complained.

“Rocky road,” Jason informed you seriously. You looked thoughtful, like this was a big piece of information that he just gave you.

“It all makes sense now,” you said, wisely. His lips twitched up in a smile.

“How do you even know that, anyway?” you asked, getting actually serious. He looked away. “Seriously, I’ve basically told you my life story, you should talk about yours.”

“First or second?” he muttered. You just stared at him. You’d been dying of curiosity as to what the Red Hood’s story was, especially since he had been nothing but kind to you and James when you had seen him. You hadn’t pressed him for detail before, but you were starting to get more and more creative with what you imagined and it was bothering you.

“Fine, fine,” he said, seeming to come to a decision after reading something in your face. “But it’s not a very happy story. And I won’t say any names.”

“Sure,” you said, putting on your best sympathetic look.

“I grew up in Crime Alley, with my mom. My dad was in and out of prison, so I didn’t see much of him. My mom was a drug addict so a lot of my early memories are of keeping her from going too far under. It didn’t work and one day when I came home she was dead,” he said, emotionlessly. Your best sympathetic look morphed into a real sympathetic look, mixed with horror and you shifted your weight so that you could put one of your hands over his. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t react to the touch either. He just kept going like he needed to get it all out in one go.

“After that I was on the streets for a while. Doing what I had to. I was out jacking tires one night when I came across the Batmobile. Those tires were probably worth more than I had gotten in my entire life, so I figured, why not?” Your eyebrows shot up at his logic there, but you didn’t comment. “I actually had three of them off when the Bat came back. Thought I was going to go to jail or something, y’know? But the fucker just offered me food and a place to stay instead. Before long, I was the second Robin.” He paused there, as if lost in memories. You knew that there was so much that he was leaving out, but you could fish for more details later. For now, though, there was one thing that you wanted to focus on.

“Wait, YOU were Robin?” you asked incredulously.

He looked up at you. “Yeah? Why? Is that surprising?”

“You? Robin?” you said again, trying to cement that image in your mind. Man, you really hit the jackpot there with your choice of men for a one night stand. Good or bad, you hadn’t decided yet. “As in, boy wonder? The second part of the dynamic duo, Robin? ‘Leaping lizards, Batman’ Robin” you asked, a smile forming on your face.

“That was more of the first Robin’s thing,” Jason defended himself.

“Those scaly green undies?” you asked, holding back laughter.

“That was definitely the first Robin’s thing,” he grumbled. You couldn’t hold it in anymore and you threw your head back and laughed for a minute. He just glared at you miserably, but his face softened a fraction as he watched you.

“Yeah, well, I’m definitely not Robin anymore,” he said, and you sobered up a little.

“Oh, right. Something really bad must’ve happened, if you hate Batman now,” you said, mostly to yourself. He sighed, then closed his eyes for a minute, like he was trying to psych himself up for what he was going to say next.

“Turns out my mom wasn’t really my biological mom. When I found that out, I went looking for the real thing. Found her in Ethiopia, with a relief effort.” You could tell from his expression that this wasn’t going to end well. “She found out that I was Robin and then sold me out to the Joker. Long story short, he killed me,” he said the last part through gritted teeth, like he really didn’t want to talk about it. You wondered why he even agreed to tell you this story.

“He… sorry, what?” you breathed, horrified.

“Killed me. Locked me in a building with a bomb. I couldn’t get out,” Jason said, not looking at you.

“But---”

“Six months later, something fucky happened with reality and it brought me back, but I wasn’t really back. Not until Talia,” he paused and looked at your confused face, “some evil bitch threw me into something called a Lazarus Pit, which is like the fountain of youth.”

There was a silence where you considered his words. This all seemed so fantastical, like he was the main character in some book, rather than the living, breathing, father of your son right in front of you. You knew that crazy things happened, especially when superheroes were involved, with all their aliens and magic, but you’d never been a direct part of that.

“Mommy, can I play on the monkey bars?” a voice came from right next to you. You startled and looked over to see that James had wandered over while the two of you had been talking. He tugged at your sleeve, looking hopeful.

“Sure sweetheart,” you answered, shaking yourself out of your thoughts and pushing yourself up so that you could stand. Jason was staring at you and you beckoned for him to come too, if we wanted to. He stood up as well, but he was keeping his eyes on you like he was trying to guess what you were thinking. You decided not to dwell on what he had said for the moment, preferring to use this time to focus on playing with James.

The three of you walked over to the playground and James clumsily climbed up the ladder to the monkey bars. He reached up for them, but was comically too short to reach them, so you lifted him up so that he could. He hung by his hands on the first bar and you kept your hands on his waist so that you could support him and catch him if he let go.

“I wanna go on top,” he complained. “I saw kids on top. Sitting.”

“I don’t think that I can get you up there, James. Besides, it’s not safe,” you told him and he pouted.

“Jay can,” he said, pouting. You looked over at Jason and he was looking at you. You just shrugged and took your hands away so that he could hoist the kid up so that he was sitting on the top of the bars, grinning down at you. You had a brief thought about James in the Robin costume on top of a building like his father and then held back your groan. If James found out that his father had been Robin there would be no stopping him.

“Woooowww,” James exclaimed, looking in all directions. “I can see lots.”

“Be careful,” you warned him, but he didn’t seem like he was paying attention to you.

“Look! A puppy,” James said, leaning forward to get a better look at the dog and you saw what was happening just a moment too late. He slid off of his perch on the bar and was falling. You had just enough time to yelp out in surprise when Jason was suddenly there, catching James smoothly before he hit the ground. You sighed in relief, trying to calm your pounding heart.

“Again!” James giggled, shifting to get more comfortable in Jason’s arms.

“Sorry, buddy, but we don’t want to give your mom another heart attack,” Jason said, smiling back at the kid, and then shooting a glance at you. “I saw that you brought a soccer ball. How about we go play with that?” he suggested instead. James nodded eagerly and squirmed so that he would be put down, then ran over to their blanket and pulled the ball out of the large bag that you had brought.

You let out a big sigh of relief and then said, “Nice catch.”

He shrugged, like it was nothing and then led the way back over to where James had taken out the ball and was already kicking it toward him. Jason lightly tapped the ball back and James ran for it, tripped over it, rolled back to his feet and then kicked it back. You sat back down on the blanket and watched them play. James had taken to Jason remarkably fast, even though he was by no means a shy kid. And Jason seemed to be good enough with him, genuinely wanting to interact with the kid, which you appreciated. It was hard to think of him and the Red Hood as the same person, even though you’d never met the vigilante in person. Or Robin. That one had come as a real shock. Jason had been Gotham’s beloved sidekick once upon a time. Until he had been murdered.

“Mommy, come play!” you heard James’ voice yell out, and you got up again to go over. James kicked the ball in your general direction and missed left, causing you to have to walk over to where he kicked it. You clumsily got the ball with your feet and turned, aiming a soft kick at Jason. The three of you weren’t very far apart, as James couldn’t kick a ball very far yet. Jason received the ball and bounced it up, juggling it with his knees expertly.

“Whoaaa,” James said and got closer, watching Jason with wide eyes.

“Coming to you,” Jason said, and then put the ball back on the ground and pushed it to James. James bent over and picked up the ball and then dropped it and tried to hit it with his knee, like Jason had done. He completely missed it. The second time he tried it, the ball went sailing away in a random direction, prompting him to run after it to try again.

“Did you play soccer?” you asked Jason when he walked up to you.

“Nah, just basic coordination,” he said, both of you watching James. He tried again, and this time when he kicked the ball up, it hit him in the head. He sat down and began wailing. Jason gave you a panicked look, but you just calmly walked over to James.

“Oh, baby, are you okay?” you asked, taking his head in your hands and placing a kiss on top of it gently.

“Not hurt,” James said, breath still coming out in sobs.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I can’t bounce ball,” he wailed.

“I can’t do that either, James,” you told him softly. “It’s a very hard thing to do. When you get bigger, I’m sure Jason can teach you.” You noticed Jason paying attention to the conversation. You rubbed some of the tears away from his eyes. “Come on, lets go get cleaned up and have a snack.” He perked up a little bit at that.

“You’re so great with him,” Jason said in wonder as he followed you back to the blanket after getting the ball.

“Pro tip. When there’s a crying child, always offer them food. At the end of the day, we all want food,” you said sagely.

“I’ll remember that,” Jason chuckled.

You reached the blanket and pulled a tissue out of your bag, which you used to clean up James and then got out one of your many packaged snacks that you had brought. You opened it and James eagerly accepted it, sitting down and focusing on eating.

“Do you want something?” you asked Jason, enticingly. “I have Monsters Inc. fruit snacks or teddy grahams.”

“Hmmm two very good choices,” Jason mused sarcastically.

“Teddy grahams are the best,” James informed him.

“Well then I’ll have those, then,” Jason decided and James smiled proudly. You were also smiling as you handed over the bag and took one out for yourself. After snacks, you played some more on the playset (James particularly loved the swings) and then walked over to a little burger shop that was near and Jason paid for dinner, over your protests. The autumn sun was starting to set when you emerged from the shop.

“We should get back before the sun sets any further,” you said, squinting worriedly at the sky. You had walked over to the park from your apartment and had lost track of time while you were there.

“Did you walk here? I’ll give you a ride back,” Jason said, noticing your worried look.

“Do you happen to have a car seat in the back of your car?” you asked rhetorically.

“That I do not,” he said, looking like he just made a mental note to get one.

“Well, thanks for the offer, then. If we hurry now, we can get back before it gets dark,” you said, already rearranging your bags so that you would be able to carry James. You walked much faster than James, even with his extra weight.

“I’ll walk you back,” Jason stated, and held his hand out for your bags, which he had carried when you had walked over to the restaurant earlier.

“Really, that’s so out of the way for you, we’ll be fine,” you said.

“You shouldn’t be walking alone anywhere in Gotham, no matter what time it is,” Jason warned, making you bristle a little, but then he continued. “Y/N, I’ve seen what can happen on these streets. More than most.”

You couldn’t really argue with the haunted tone that his voice took. You figured that he must’ve seen quite a lot as Robin, and now Red Hood. If it scared him, then it should probably terrify you.

“Okay, okay,” you conceded, then looked down to where James was tugging at your pants. He had been looking between the two of you as you talked.

“Is Jay coming with us?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Yes, he’ll walk with us until we’re home,” you told him. He let out an excited sound and rushed over to Jason and put his hands up in the classic kid ‘pick me up’ gesture. Jason once again looked over at you first and you nodded and readjusted your bag over your shoulder to be more comfortable. Jason lifted up James easily and held him with one arm. You eyed him with jealousy. It had been a while since you could lift up James and carry him without any sort of difficulty. He caught you staring and gave you an apologetic smile, to which you just rolled your eyes and started walking.

It didn’t take long for James’ eyes to start drooping closed. It was no surprise, since he’d basically been running all day, first in excitement that they were going to the park later, and then at the park. Jason must’ve felt him drift off, because you noticed that he stopped for a moment and you turned around to see him just staring at the kid in his arms. You also stopped and smiled at him until he looked up and caught your eye, then looked a little bit embarrassed and caught up to you. You didn’t say anything, just kept walking and smiling.

Eventually you got to your place, just as it was getting dark. You dug through your bags for the keys and started to unlock the door.

“Are you guys going to keep hiding the whole time?” Jason suddenly called out, and you turned around to see who he was talking to.

From around a different corner, two people walked up, both looking a bit sheepish. You recognized them vaguely as the two people that had been with Jason on the first night that you had met him. You straightened up a little bit as they approached. If these were Jason’s friends, then it was probably safe to assume that they were also in the vigilante circle. In fact, the woman that was approaching looked slightly different, now that you thought about it. Her skin was orange and her eyes were bright green, glowing. Her hair was a shade of red that if you saw out of the corner of your eye, you might think that it was on fire.

“Y/N, this is Roy and Kori. They’re my… acquaintances,” Jason said, causing the two of them to glare at him.

“Awww come on Jason, if you can’t say friends, then at least say teammates,” Roy said, rolling his eyes. “Sorry, Y/N, he’s just afraid of saying how he really feels,” he added to you and you shot a look at Jason, raised eyebrows.

“Sorry about Roy, Y/N, he thinks that he always has to meddle in other people’s business,” Jason retorted. They glared at each other.

“Enough, boys,” Kori said, and amazingly, they stopped. “We had not gotten the opportunity to meet Jason’s child and we were merely curious as to how things were progressing so we followed from a distance. My apologies for the intrusion, Y/N.”

“Uh, sure,” you said, then looked at Jason. “You could have just brought your friends along if they’ve been asking to meet James,” you said.

“They’re not my friends,” Jason muttered, but he didn’t even look like he believed himself.

“Well, why don’t you all come in for a little bit and get out of the cold. You can talk a little bit with James before he goes to bed,” you offered.

“That is very generous,” Kori said with a wide smile and you felt very aware of how gorgeous she was. You were also pretty sure that you knew where you’d seen her before.

“Yeah, just sorry about the mess. I haven’t had any time off in forever to really clean,” you apologized, opening the door and walking in, holding it open behind you for them to enter. Your eyes glanced over your small apartment, making sure that it wasn’t too bad. You entered into the dining room and the table was covered in schoolwork, papers, and an empty mug and a plate that you had used for breakfast. Scattered around the floor were various toys that you hadn’t been able to get James to put away before leaving for the park. There was a stack of dirty dishes in the sink, and the coffee table was absolutely covered in Jame’s latest lego project, but other than that everything seemed to be okay. You could tell that they all were looking over your apartment too, but from spending time with Jason you knew that he did that when entering every room. Must be a vigilante thing.

“I thought you were taking some time off, “ Jason said, his tone accusing.

“Can’t,” you said and he shot you a questioning look. “Tuition is due soon,” you explained, shrugging. You took off your coat and hung it up.

“I thought I gave you more than enough to cover tuition,” Jason said, narrowing his eyes.

“I can’t take your money for my tuition,” you said, shaking your head like it was obvious. “That’s for James.”

Jason gave the most exasperated sigh that you’d ever heard.

“I wouldn’t worry about taking money from Jaybird, Y/N,” Roy piped up. “He’s, like, uber rich. I take cash out of his safe to buy plutonium every couple weeks and he never even notices.”

Jason whirled around to glare at him. You just laughed a little bit and started clearing off the table so that you could have a comfortable spot to sit at. James was starting to stir in Jason’s arms. He looked up and found you.

“Mommy,” he mumbled sleepily, holding his arms out toward you. Jason walked over and transferred the little boy into your arms and you sat down at the table. The others took seats as well.

“James, baby, wake up. Some of Jason’s friends are here and they want to meet you,” you murmured while stroking his hair.

“‘M tired,” he complained, but he opened up his little eyes to squint and the new people. He then jerked awake at the sight of Kori, startling you a bit.

“Are you a space alien?” he asked, suddenly alert and excited. You bit back your groan at his lack of manners.

“I am from a planet called Tamaron, yes,” Kori said back with a smile. James looked back at you with confusion and you nodded at him.

“Woowww,” James exclaimed, starry-eyed. “Like Superman.”

Kori opened her mouth, probably to explain that she wasn’t like Superman, but Roy cut her off.

“Hey little man. I’m Roy, and this is Kori. It’s very nice to finally meet you,” he introduced, now that the kid was awake. James smiled brightly at the two of them, his green eyes sparkling. Roy looked a bit surprised and his smile fell into a concentrated look. James turned around back to you to whisper something in your ear.

“James wants to know if he can touch your hair,” you said to Kori, conveying what the boy had whispered to you. He buried his face in your neck, embarrassed.

Kori laughed and walked over to you, holding out her arms. “Of course, little one,” she said and James all but lept out of your arms and into Kori’s.

“You’re warm,” he said happily and curled a fist up in her hair. You hoped that he would have enough sense not to yank on it. Kori took a few steps away from you, humming lightly to the child, and Roy leaned in toward you.

“Hey, Y/N, you don’t mind if…” he asked and pulled out a little kit with a cotton swab in it. You stared at it for a second before realizing what he was asking.

“Roy, I don’t think that’s really necessary,” Jason began, but Roy cut him off.

“It’s not just a paternity test, it’s to see whether there’s any lingering effects from the pit,” Roy explained further. “I whipped it up on the off chance that we’d meet him tonight.” Jason rolled his eyes. You interpreted that as in, Roy knew that he was going to meet James tonight, so he came prepared. You didn’t fault him for looking out for Jason. Plus you had also started to wonder whether there could be anything different about a boy whose father had been raised from the dead.

“Sure,” you said, and held your hand out to him. “But I’ll do it.”

“Of course,” he said, and opened the bottle to pass you the swab. You vaguely knew that you were supposed to rub the inside of his cheek with it. You stood up from the table and walked over to where James was gushing over Kori’s hair and they both looked over at you.

“Hi sweetheart. Can you do something for me really quick?” you asked. He nodded so you continued, “Can you open your mouth really wide and say ‘Awwww’ for me? I’m going to rub this on the inside of your cheek. It might tickle a little bit.”

James complied, immediately trusting you, and opened wide and you twirled the swab around his cheek for a moment. When you pulled it out, he started to giggle. Kori was still smiling down at him. You turned around and handed the swab back to Roy, who put it in the kit. After a few seconds a green flashing light came on the side and Roy muttered, “It’s a boy.” Jason rolled his eyes at his friend.

Roy looked up and said, “I’ll need to go over the data more for the pit effects, but I’ll let you know if I find anything.” You nodded. There was a shriek from behind you and you turned around to see that Kori was now hovering a few feet off the ground, in a sitting position with James standing in her lap.

“Higher!” he said, voice full of childlike delight, and Kori complied, raising just a few more inches off the ground. James looked thrilled.

You stared in shock for one moment, but then turned your eyes over to Jason and the two of you shared a look. Yours was tired, and his was just mildly amused. You leaned over on the couch, defeated.

“James, how about you show them your project?” you suggested. He eagerly nodded and started shuffling his way off of Kori. You had a brief fear that he would fall, but Kori smoothly lowered to the ground and put him down before he could. When he had his feet on the ground he walked over to the other side of the couch and leaned over the coffee table to pick up a vaguely shaped mass of large legos. Jason, Roy, and Kori all wandered over to look.

“What are you building there?” Jason asked, kneeling next to the kid.

“A spaceship!” James said and turned it. Then he started turning the ship and explaining where everything was. Jason and Kori were both attentive, asking questions and complimenting him. Roy, however, turned to you.

“Sorry about that whole testing thing,” he said softly and gave an apologetic smile. “Jason’s had a tough go of it, and I just want to make sure that nothing else happens.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to see that,” you whispered back, thinking back on what he had told you today.

“Jason’s a great guy,” Roy said. “A lot’s happened, but he’s doing his best and he’s damn reliable. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have my back in a firefight.”

You studied him. “Thanks, but I’d prefer to avoid those,” you joked lightly. He gave a small smile before your attention was taken by a little voice.

“Mommy, Kori has a spaceship! She says I can go on a ride,” he said, stumbling over the words a little in his excitement. You glanced at Jason, who put his hands up in defeat.

“Well I think you need to be a little older before you can ride in a spaceship, baby,” you said, feeling bad as his little face scrunched up in disappointment. You really had to tell Jason that he needed to be the bad guy more. Especially when it came to things like sending a four-year-old to space. This was so out of your parenting expertise.

“But I wanna,” he complained, now looking angry.

“Sorry, bud, but you have to listen to your mother,” Jason said, trying to be diplomatic, but you shot him a dirty look. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t used to being a parent at all. Putting all the blame on you was absolutely what he shouldn’t have done. James glared at you and then burst into tears.

The three of them looked a little shocked, not used to being around a cranky exhausted toddler. You walked around the couch and scooped James up, who was still angry at you, but you rubbed his back a little bit and he allowed you to hold him.

“It’s okay, honey. You’re just tired from running around all day. That’s why you’re feeling angry,” you told him as he cried into your shirt.

“Sorry, Y/N, I did not mean to--” Kori began, but you cut her off.

“He’s just tired. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to put him to bed. I’ll be right back,” you said, and headed down the hall to Jame’s bedroom. He was busy tearfully telling you that he didn’t need to go to bed and that he wasn’t tired and that he wanted to stay with Kori, but as soon as you get him changed and in bed, his eyes were already drifting closed, tired from the day and from spending all that energy crying. You stayed for a moment, humming and stroking his hair until he was snoring softly. You crept out and closed the door behind you with a soft click. Then stopped and took a deep breath before going back to the living room.

The three of them were all sitting around the table now, heads together, whispering to each other. They stopped and looked over when you came back, making you uncomfortable under their attention. You took the empty seat at the table.

“Sorry for--” Jason began, but you waved him off, not really wanting to talk about it right now.

“It’s no big deal, really,” you said, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms around your middle protectively. “I want to hear the rest of your story,” you said to Jason, suddenly sure that this was something that you needed to hear. “What happened after you… came back?”

That changed the mood, and the three of them shared a dark look before Jason answered. “You sure you want to know?”

“No. But I think I have to,” you said, looking at the three of them in your apartment. Jason sighed, but nodded.

“The Lazarus Pit, it can heal you from the brink of death, but it changes you. We call it pit madness. It made me angry, and then Talia directed that anger back toward Batman. She trained me, along with others, and then I went back to Gotham to kill the Bat,” he explained, a dark look on his face as he described what you were coming to learn as his worst memories. You shuddered at the hardness of his voice. Roy and Kori just looked a little surprised, like they weren’t expecting him to ever talk about this. You filed that away.

“Do you still--?” you started to ask, breathless and a little afraid.

“No. The worst of it’s mostly gone by now. Sometimes there’s still flashes, but I can control it for the most part,” he explained, looking like he was trying to reassure you. “That’s actually when I met you. I wasn’t actually looking for anything, but you surprised me. You made everything seem a lot clearer. If just for a moment,” he mused, like he was just realizing that for the first time.

“Might be a soulmate thing,” Roy suggested. Jason shrugged.

“But why kill Batman when it was the Joker that killed you?” you asked and Roy and Jason winced.

“I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly,” Jason began slowly, then it seemed like he wanted to just get the rest over with quickly. “I was mad that Batman wasn’t doing enough to stop people like the Joker. I was going to come back to Gotham and clean out the criminals from the inside out. I killed a lot of them, and did business with others.”

“Oh,” you said, taking a lot of that in. Of course you’d seen the news around that time. The Red Hood was a new player in the caped games of Gotham. Someone that Batman was trying to take down. There’d been several large explosions and lots of dead gangsters, but no one had ever really managed to figure out exactly who the Red Hood was, or what he wanted. At one point you remember hearing that he had been sent to Arkham, but even you weren’t brave enough to ask him about that right now. You could see that Jason was staring at you, like he was trying to break into your mind with his eyes and see what you were thinking.

“But Jason’s different now,” Roy broke you out of your thoughts. “A lot of that was the pit and the League’s influence. He’s even on speaking terms with the Bats these days.”

Jason broke off his stare to look down. “Not really,” he muttered.

“So where do you two come in?” you asked, deciding to move on for now. You still had a lot to think about with that, but it was clear that Jason was having a hard time talking about it. His eyes were glowing a dull green that you now knew to interpret as dangerous.

“We have chosen to accompany Jason on a journey of revenge,” Kori said, like it was the most natural thing. You shot a look at Jason.

“Not revenge on Batman or anything. This is… something else,” Jason clarified quickly.

“Speaking of the mission,” Roy cut in before you could say anything. “We’ve found a new lead.”

Jason perked up. “How big of a lead are we talking?” he asked, sparing a glance at you like he was trying to remind everyone that you were still sitting right there.

“Big enough to where we need to leave in the morning to go chase it before it goes cold,” Roy said. You were looking back and forth between the two of them, noting that they were having some sort of silent conversation. You got the feeling that the two of them were very close friends, despite what Jason would ever say.

“Then it looks like we’re leaving in the morning,” Jason stated, like he was making a decision, and turning to you.

“Where are you going?” you asked immediately. They all just stared at you.

“Okay, okay, that one’s on me,” you backtracked. Of course they wouldn’t want to tell you where their super secret mission was. So you tried something else. “How long will you be gone?”

“Who knows?” Jason said, not looking at you. “Could be a week, could be a month with this kind of thing.”

“Hmmm,” you contemplated, knowing that this was something that was bound to happen eventually. You had secretly hoped that it wouldn’t. “You’re going to call?”

“Whenever I can,” Jason promised. You didn’t look too happy about that, so he added, “At least once every two weeks. I remember.”

You bit your lip and nodded, “You’ll be careful?” you asked, then realizing that you had put just a little bit too much worry in your voice, you added, “Dying isn’t actually an excuse to not call your son. For you especially.” The last part slipped out unintentionally, and you shot him a worried glance at how he might take it. He didn’t seem mad, though.

He just chuckled a little bit, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he stood up. “We should get going. We’ve got an early morning.”

“Of course,” you said, also getting up so that you could walk them out.

“Thank you for letting us stay for a while in your home,” Kori said.

“It was good meeting the kid, too,” Roy added. “I hope you don’t mind if we drop by again when we get back to say hello. You have the cutest kid, which is surprising, considering who the father is.” He said the last part in a stage whisper to you, making Jason roll his eyes again at the redhead.

You laughed and told him that they’d be welcome to come back whenever. As you reached the door, you pulled Jason back for a moment. The other two seemed to understand and walked out, giving the two of you a moment alone. He looked at you questioningly.

“Is there any chance that you’d be able to drop by tomorrow morning before you leave?” you asked. He frowned.

“From what Roy said, it’ll probably be pretty early. Like in a couple of hours, early,” Jason said and you couldn’t help but to look a little disappointed.

“Oh, okay. I was wanting to see whether you wanted to… whether we could…,” you paused, trying to put it into words. “The past couple of weeks have been going great. I was thinking that we could introduce you properly to James as his father.” You paused, and noticed that he’d tensed up. You continued, hurriedly. “We don’t have to yet, if you’re not ready, but we’d have to do it eventually and I guess if you’re going to be gone I can talk to him alone in the morning, if you want. Or we could wait until you’re back here and do it in person.” Babbling again. You cut yourself off before you could keep going.

“I… I would like that,” Jason said, sounding like there was something stuck in his throat. You raised your eyebrow in a question. Which one?

“You can talk it through with him first, and then I’ll talk more when I call?” he asked, and you nodded. That wasn’t as good at him being there in person, but you could work with it. You had the feeling that there were going to be a lot of compromises like that with this relationship, but you could see in his face now how much he loved his kid as he showed a rare moment of emotion. You couldn’t help yourself and you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He was already tense, but he slowly put his arms around you and hugged back like he wasn’t used to hugs anymore.

“You’ll really be careful, right?” you asked, seriously this time.

“Yeah, Y/N, don’t worry. I’ll see you both soon,” he reassured you. After a while, you broke the hug and watched sadly as he left the house to walk down the street with his friends. You locked the door after him.

Jason did call at least once every two weeks. You weren’t sure whether you were surprised about that or not. He actually called a couple of times more than the minimum, when he had time. You’ll never forget the look on Jason’s face the first time he called and James just yelled out, “Daddy!” though. The conversation seemed to go smoothly enough, with James accepting that Jason was his father the way that only a four-year-old can. It helped a lot that James liked Jason so much, and especially when Kori and Roy would pop up every so often to say hi.

You never really asked where Jason was or what he was doing, and he never talked about it either, but sometimes when he called there would be slight injuries on him, either a split lip or some partially healed bruises. You tried to hide your worry at that, but you were pretty sure that he could see right through you.

He also talked to you sometimes over text, just asking about how things were going with school and making sure that you were indeed using some of the money that he gave you for yourself. You found that you really liked talking to him; the two of you were similar in a lot of little ways. You knew somewhere in the back of your mind that the two of you were soulmates, and so that shouldn’t be too surprising, but you also knew that your first priority right now was James. You weren’t going to start anything that could potentially hurt him. It seemed almost like an unspoken agreement between the two of you.

Jason finally came back after two months away. James rushed him and jumped into his arms when he finally showed up at your door again, looking tired, but whole. You cooked the two of them dinner while Jason presented his son with a gift he had gotten from somewhere in Africa. He told a couple of stories about being in the market and what was there and things that he saw while he was away. James ate it all up with wide, adoring eyes. You knew that he wasn’t saying most of what had probably actually happened.

This time, Jason was back for a whole month, though a lot of the time he was busy doing his stuff in Gotham. You kept your eye on the news, but there was never anything about the Red Hood. At least he was doing his stuff quietly. The three of you went to movies and parks and Jason slowly got better at being a co-parent as he spent more time with James, and the multiple times where he asked you for advice. Sometimes after you put James to bed, he would stay with you and be there while you were writing papers for your classes or just talking late into the night. You got a better picture of who he was and his life story, though he was always quiet about his time as Robin. You didn’t push him on that, though, since it was probably traumatic to talk about, and you cared more about what he had been doing after he had come back to life. To your relief, a lot of it wasn’t as bad as you had been picturing. Sure, he killed a lot of people, but mostly because they had been committing awful crimes against kids, which you couldn’t quite find yourself disagreeing with.

Roy and Kori were around, too. They always seemed delighted to see James, and James adored them. Asking them all sorts of questions about space, and watching Roy make trick shots with paper footballs (he really did have amazing aim). The first time you had come back, Roy had pulled you aside and had given you the results of the testing that he had done, saying that other than a general slight boost in James’ health, intelligence, and strength, there weren’t any other side effects from the pit that he had inherited from Jason right now, but he warned that this was magic that they didn’t fully understand and to talk to Jason or him if you noticed anything.

All in all, it was a cozy little arrangement between all of you and you didn’t realize that the months were slipping by until you found yourself at your college graduation party, nine months since that day at the diner. You and James, and a couple of your closest friends, plus Roy, Kori, and Jason were all over at your house, cutting into a big cake that they had brought you. Your friends had slowly accepted Jason and his friends, even though you never told them who they actually were. You felt a little bad for Kori, having to disguise herself every time they were around, but she assured you that it was worth it.

“Mommy, there aren’t candles in your cake?” James asked, seeming distressed on your behalf. You laughed.

“It isn’t that kind of cake. That’s only for birthdays,” you informed him. He nodded like he understood, but his face was still furrowed in confusion. “Don’t think about it too hard, cupcake,” you said, and slathered some frosting on your finger then rubbed it off on his nose playfully. He squealed in protest and tried to lick it off first, before rubbing it off with his hand and then licking that. You laughed and took another bite of cake as you watched him.

“So, where were you again last week?” you heard Angelica asking Jason from across the table. She had chilled out a little bit, but she still was the one that was most suspicious of Jason. He answered easily.

“I was out in New York on business,” he said, also eating some cake. “A client of mine needed some convincing to take a deal that we offered.”

“Seems like it’s always some meeting or another,” Angelica said, letting her disapproval of his constant travel be known.

“Angelica,” you chastised her and she looked up at you guiltily. “Let’s not talk about that right now, we’re supposed to be celebrating how smart I am now that I have my degree.”

“Yes, it is a very impressive thing to finish schooling of this level,” Kori said, seriously. “Jason has told me that no one in his family has received a similar degree.” That definitely didn’t help Angelica’s suspicious stare at Jason. She was probably wondering how he had so much money when his family never graduated college. Roy covered for Kori, though.

“So, how’s the job search going, then? Got anything lined up?” he asked, already going for a second piece of cake.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you complained, swatting his arm playfully. “Job hunting is literally the worst.”

“You could always go for your masters,” Jason said casually. “Then you don’t have to figure it out right now.”

“Might want to wait a few years for that. Graduate school is expensive,” Evan put in. “I’m still paying off all my loans.”

“If that’s what Y/N wants to do, then we could figure it out,” Jason said, shrugging. Angelica bristled and opened her mouth to share what she thought about that. You sighed and kept quiet. Maybe your friends weren’t as on board with this whole soulmate thing as you’d thought they were. At least Jason didn’t seem to mind too much. The only comments that he made to you about your friends were usually praises about how they looked after you. Overall, the party was pleasant.

The summer months were hot, even when the sun went down. You and James were sitting in your living room, both trying to take up as much of the fan as you could as you laid on the couch and watched the weatherman report on exactly how hot it was, saying that this wasn’t going to go away any time soon. You groaned and stood up, making your way to the kitchen to get another glass of ice water. Between the humidity and the heat, you’d been sweating for about a week straight.

You had just set the glass down when you heard the apartment door burst open and you felt a moment of panic before you heard Jason’s voice call out.

“James? Where’s Y/N?” he asked. Something in his voice made your panic rise again and you rushed back over to the living room.

“Here,” you said, catching sight of him and then stopping in shock. He was standing in the living room, already holding James in his arms and dressed in full gear. Your eyes glanced over the leather jacket and the blood red bat symbol on his chest, and settled on the thigh holsters that he was wearing, each containing a loaded handgun. His eyes were covered with a domino mask. James was looking up at Jason, confused, but apparently he recognized the voice enough to know who it was holding him, or else you were sure he’d be crying already. When Jason caught sight of you, he visibly relaxed for a moment, then tensed up again.

“Get some shoes on and let’s go,” he commanded.

“What--,” you began, but he cut you off.

“No time. Trust me, we have to go. Now,” he said, teeth gritted. You were about to argue further, but then you saw the flash of fear in his face and you found yourself rushing to the other side of the room to grab your shoes and James’. You’d never actually seen him as the Red Hood before, and now that you had it made it all the more real. He seemed like a different person altogether.

The two of you got your shoes on and then you looked around, wondering whether you should take anything else, but Jason grabbed your arm in a tight grip and all but dragged you out of the door. There was a car waiting at the front of your apartment complex that was still running and he had the two of you get into the back while he took the wheel. There wasn’t a car seat in the back, so you held James on your lap tightly with your arms. Jason began to drive away, probably breaking every traffic law that ever existed. It made you wrap your arms even tighter around James, who squeaked in protest.

“Jason, what’s going on?” you asked now that you had a moment. You hated the high-pitched fear in your voice.

“Call me Hood,” he corrected you immediately, then continued, “I don’t know how, but they found out about-- Get down!”

There was the sound of shattering glass and gunshots. You screamed out in surprise and then shoved you and James down so that you were covering his body with yours. James also shrieked and squirmed to try and get away from you, but you held him tight. Jason took a high speed turn that had you knocking into the door of the car. You squeezed your eyes tightly closed, hoping that if you couldn’t see anything then it would just go away or turn out to be a bad dream. You weren’t so lucky.

You heard some return fire come from the front of your car, the gunshots so loud that they hurt your ears, but you weren’t about to take your arms away from James to cover his ears or your own. James was crying now.

After a few minutes of no more gunshots and a few more bruises from speeding around turns, Jason looked back at the two of you and said, “I think we’re all clear. You both okay? You can sit up now.”

You did, and James wrapped his little body around you and sobbed. You glared up at Jason.

“What the hell, Jason?” you yelled, only realizing after you said it that he had told you not to call him that. You didn’t actually care about that too much at the moment.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think that they’d be able to--”

“Who are ‘they’?! What’s happening?!” you said frantically, only making James cry harder.

“Y/N, you need to calm down,” Jason said, shooting another glance at the two of you from the rear view mirror.

“Don’t you dare tell me--,” you cut yourself off and then forced yourself to take a deep breath. He was right. Freaking out right now was only hurting James. You focused on rubbing his back in small circles for a moment, trying to sooth the crying child.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” you said, pressing a kiss on top of his head and keeping your voice even. Then you looked up and said a bit louder, “Where are we going, Hood?” You bit out the last word and he winced a little.

“I have a safehouse north of here. You’ll stay there while I figure this out,” he said, looking focused.

“Figure out what? What’s happening?” you asked again, considerably more calm this time, but just as angry.

“Trust me, the less that you know, the better,” he said, taking another turn, but this time not as fast.

“Yeah, no. We just got shot at and you’re not going to tell me why?” you demanded.

“Just… wait until we get there. Then I’ll explain things. Please,” he said, and he sounded so tired that you bit back a scathing response and settled more into the seat.

“Fine,” you said, making your unhappiness known, but you didn’t say anything else to him for the rest of the car ride, just whispered more soft words to James, who was asking you similar questions to what you were asking Jason.

Luckily, it wasn’t more than twenty minutes later that Jason pulled up in front of what looked like an abandoned warehouse and turned the engine off.

“Come on,” he said as he opened the door and made his way out of the car. You did the same, still carrying James despite the toddler’s protests. You looked up at the building and realized that you had no idea where you were, since nothing looked familiar in the moonlight. Jason lightly put his hand on the back of your arm to lead you up to the entrance, but you shrugged him off, sending him an angry look. The two of you approached the door, where Jason had to put in several passwords and do a retinal scan before the door unlocked with a click. Jason pushed it open and waved you in first before carefully closing the door behind him.

“You’ll be safe in here,” Jason informed you quietly.

“Safe from what?” you hissed at him.

“Black Mask’s men. They found out about you somehow and now they’re after the two of you,” Jason said miserably.

“I thought you said that that wasn’t going to happen,” you challenged through narrowed eyes that he didn’t meet.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” he defended lamely. “I have no idea how they know about you, but I’m going to find out and then deal with it. Don’t touch anything that looks dangerous while I’m gone.”

“You’re leaving?” you said, your voice getting louder with anger and fear.

“I have to,” Jason said, looking like he was trying to calm you down. “I have to go deal with this, and hopefully it’ll lead them away from you.”

“And if it doesn’t?” you shot back. “What if they come here and you’re not around?” You looked around. “Where’s Roy and Kori?”

“They’re already tracking down our lead for this whole thing. I have to go join them.”

“Fine,” you said, seeing that you obviously weren’t going to convince him otherwise. “Just go, then.”

“Y/N,” he said softly, reaching out to touch you, but you jerked away from him. A hurt look flashed across his face, but he recovered quickly and then his eyes settled on James, who was looking between the two angry adults with wide, scared eyes. You set James down and he took a few steps toward his father, who knelt down so that he could be at eye level with the kid. You crossed your arms and glared at Jason as there was a quiet and murmured conversation between the two of them. Then Jason stood up and crossed the room to grab a bright red helmet that had been sitting on a workbench and, with one last long look at the two of you, turned and left the building. You heard the lock reactivate behind him.

You let out the breath that you’d been holding and finally looked around to see exactly where it was you were. It was a big room, which wasn’t that surprising based on what the outside had looked like. In one corner there were a couple of motorcycles. Some of them were completely taken apart, the pieces lying around the floor and meticulously organized. To the right of that was a big case filled with all different types of weapons. There was a table in front of the case that too contained a bunch of half-assembled guns, a wicked looking knife, and a couple of other weapons that you’d only seen in crappy ninja movies. You made a mental note to keep an eye on James and make sure that he didn’t go anywhere near that side of the room.

Going further, there was a small kitchen area with a table in the middle. Everything over there was spotlessly clean. That fit with what you knew about Jason the couple of times that he had cooked for you over at your place. He had ended up completely reorganizing your kitchen and cleaning every inch of it. On the other side of the kitchen there was a singular well-loved couch that faced a small TV set up on a box next to a bookshelf that was stuffed full with so many books they had to be stacked in front of each other. That also fit Jason.

Finally, in the back corner, there was a singular twin mattress on the ground, covered in blankets and pillows thrown haphazardly around it. You wondered if this was where Jason stayed the whole time when he was in Gotham. You’d always have him come over to your place, never getting to see his. It seemed too basic for someone who was constantly throwing money at you and making sure that you used it to buy new things around the house.

You felt a tug on your pants and you looked down to see James trying to get your attention, his face still wet with tears and snot. You knelt down to his level and he wrapped his arms around you.

“Mommy, where’s daddy?” he asked.

“I don’t know, baby,” you answered, stroking his hair. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.” You led James over to the bed and settled in it so that you were sitting up, staring at the door, with the child sprawled across your lap, trying his best to keep his eyes open. You hummed quietly to him until he drifted off to sleep. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to follow him.

---

Damn.

Jason’s fist connected with the side of another henchmen’s face with a resounding crack. He probably broke the man’s jaw, but he didn’t care much. At least it was a good way to work off some of the steam that he had built up over the last couple hours.

Finding that photograph of Y/N and James placed meticulously on the mantle of the hideout that he’d been clearing had been one of the worst moments in his life. He’d reached out and grabbed it, green filling his vision and blurring the faces in the picture. Y/N was wearing her cap and gown, holding James, both of them smiling brightly. It had been taken recently. Jason had almost lost himself to the pit rage, then. Only the influence of Roy and Kori urging him to go and get Y/N somewhere safe had been able to focus him enough to not go full out green rage monster.

As he had been racing over to the complex, the scene he had replaying in his mind was of Batman racing toward a warehouse, getting there seconds too late before it exploded. Or, at least, that’s how he’d imagined that it had been. The raw panic and worry coursing through him on his drive over actually made him sympathize with Bruce. A little bit. The fear that he was going to be too late was all-consuming.

He didn’t have to worry about that anymore, after he’d burst in and seen the two of them intact, but he knew that he hadn’t been gentle about getting them out of there. The green still hadn’t stopped pulsing in and out of his vision, even though it was by no means directed at them. He had to make sure that there was going to be a later, so that he could apologize. On the way over, they’d been chased by a couple of Black Mask’s men, and he thanked whoever would listen that he’d gotten there before them.

By the time that they’d gotten over to his most secure safehouse, the green had dimmed to only tinge the edges of his vision in the sickly color. Y/N had been understandably scared and angry at him, but his focus had been to find the bastards that had done this and make them pay tenfold. He’d blown her off and then left, scared that he would take his anger out of her if he stayed too long.

As the green had faded in the time that it took to case out where the Black Mask was, Jason felt more and more guilty about how he had treated them. Night was falling again by the time that he, Roy, and Kori were ready to make the hit on the penthouse.

Which brought him to where he was now, facing down a half-dozen goons in the middle of Black Mask’s fancy penthouse while Roy and Kori held ground just outside. Even in their numbers, the henchmen were no match for the Red Hood, especially considering how pissed he was. As much as the pit had fucked him up, sometimes the extra strength and focus that came from the green rage was useful. He knocked out the last guy, briefly considered killing him, then decided to just proceed to where he really wanted to be: Black Mask’s main study.

He pulled out one of his guns and violently kicked the door open. The fucker was calmly sitting at his large wooden desk, reading a paper report in cliche villain style. Jason aimed his gun right at his face and walked into the room a few steps.

“Call off your men, Mask,” Jason demanded, knowing that Sionis would still have people looking for Y/N now that he knew she existed.

“And miss out on getting to see you squirm? I don’t think so,” Sionis said smoothly, then looked up at him over the paper. “I’ve been dying to get to meet the girl that has the Hood so whipped up in a frenzy.”

“Last chance,” Jason said through gritted teeth, the green coming back in full force with every beat of his heart.

“Oh, but don’t you want to know how I got this juicy bit of gossip?” The man smiled, all teeth.

“Don’t care,” Jason said, and started to squeeze the trigger, but then something else caught his eye. Laying on the desk was the paper that Black Mask had been looking at. It was a big map of Gotham. There were several red circles in spots around the city.

Each of them was another one of Jason’s safehouses.

Jason’s blood ran cold.

“See, a certain someone said that they had Bat secrets to sell to the highest bidder. I was curious, so sue me. It turned out to be quite the jackpot, if I do say so myself.”

Jason was already running back out the door while the sound of laughter dogged his footsteps. He burst out of the house to see that Roy and Kori were still finishing up taking out the bulk of the security outside. They looked over as he ran back to his car.

“Did you do it?” Roy asked, falling into step with him while Kori flew overhead.

“Mask has intel on all of my safehouses,” Jason snarled.

“Oh no, Y/N--,” Roy started, picking up on it quickly, but Jason cut him off.

“I’m going to Y/N, you two need to get to the Silk Factory. We can’t let them get their hands on the ship, or any of the computer systems inside there. Take the ship and burn the rest of it,” Jason commanded.

“Are you sure that you’re going to be--”

“Just go!” Jason yelled and Kori flew down to pick up Roy and then they were gone.

For the second time in 24 hours, Jason was driving at full speed back to where Y/N was, though this time on a motorcycle, praying that he wasn’t too late and absolutely cursing himself for thinking that she had been safe. He was going to find whoever was selling the information about him and make sure that their death was slow, but for now he had to move at all possible speed.

He was about ten minutes out when his comm beeped in the way that he had set up for if Y/N ever pressed the panic button that he had given her. He pushed his bike faster.

---

You had ended up drifting off to sleep in the last few hours of the night, and woke up with a start when you felt James shifting on top of you. He rolled off of your lap in his sleep and it allowed you to get up and stretch. You wished that you had your phone to at least check the time since there were no windows in the room, but your exit had been rushed enough to where you didn’t get to grab it. As you were thinking about it, you realized that that meant that Jason would have no way of contacting you if he needed to. You had a dark thought about him getting killed while you were in there and then never coming back to get you, but you pushed that away as quickly as it had come. No point in freaking out about something that you couldn’t control right now.

Instead, you walked the perimeter of the room again. A part of you wished that it was smaller, so that you could feel more hidden and safer. You wandered over to the weapons table and grabbed the knife laying on top of it, since all of the guns outside of the locked case were in pieces and you didn’t know how to assemble them. It probably didn’t make you any safer than you were before, but it felt like it did.

You searched around a little bit to see whether he had an extra phone lying around, because that was something that actually might happen, but there was no luck with that. Eventually you decided that you had seen all that you could and sat back down on the mattress with James. The mattress still vaguely smelled like Jason. This waiting was going to kill you.

The day passed in a rather boring blur. James woke up and was hungry, so you rifled around the kitchen for something to eat and ended up with a can of soup and some stale crackers. Everything in the pantry was nonperishable food, so he probably didn’t use this safehouse often. There really wasn’t much to do in the room, so keeping James away from the weapons table was just about the most exciting thing that happened. You rifled through the books until you found something suitable and then started reading to James, who probably didn’t understand a lot of it since Jason didn’t exactly have kids books, but he seemed calmed by just the sound of your voice anyway. He was probably picking up on how on edge you were and that was stressing him out. You did your best to soothe him.

After a while, you turned on the TV, which had access to only a few channels. You settled on the news, since there was a chance that something that the Red Hood was doing might be captured on that, but there was no luck there, either. At least the droning of the news anchor had put James back to sleep. For dinner you reheated a different can of soup.

As the hours stretched on, you felt yourself grow more and more anxious. Jason hadn’t said when he would be back, but shouldn’t he have checked in by now? Or maybe that wasn’t how it worked? You had never been dumped in a safehouse with people trying to kill you before, so you weren’t sure. Nothing happened until you were sure that it had been long enough for the sun to be going down again.

BOOM!

The door exploded inward and chunks of it flew several feet in the air before landing not five feet from where you were sitting on the mattress. Your ears were ringing from the sound of the explosion and James next to you had screamed and covered his ears.

After a moment where you were frozen in shock, you found the presence of mind to grab James and leap to your feet just as you saw the men come into the safehouse, weapons raised. Your hand slipped into your pocket and gripped the panic button that Jason had given you, clicking it several times to be sure. You had gone over what you were supposed to do in an emergency over and over in your mind while you had been anxiously sitting and waiting for something to happen. Not that your plan covered much more than this, though. You stooped and grabbed the knife from the side of the bed where it lay, James in your other arm.

“Alright, girlie, you’re coming with us,” one of the men said, approaching you slowly, like a predator who could take its time.

“Stay away from us,” you said, trying to sound threatening, but it just made all four men laugh. The knife in your hand was shaking.

“Come quietly and no one will get hurt,” the man said, closer now. He put down his gun and reached out to grab you. As quickly as you could, you slashed out with the knife, catching him across his reaching hand and cutting through the glove, biting flesh. The man cried out in pain and his hand retreated, but only for an instant before coming up to grab your wrist and twist it hard. You yelped and the knife fell out of your hands and was quickly retrieved by the man.

“I wanted to do this the easy way, bitch,” the man growled and then slashed out in retaliation with the knife he had gotten from you. You saw that the angle of the slash was aimed at James just in time to turn your body and put your arm up defensively, covering you kid in the most instinctive of ways. You felt a searing, burning pain in your forearm that had you screaming. You don’t remember falling, but then you were on the ground and James was wiggling away from you and to his feet, crying and yelling. You sat up, cradling your injured arm.

“Please,” you breathed, not entirely knowing what it was that you were begging for.

“I’ll give you something to beg for,” the man said and lunged at you, grabbing your neck with his injured hand and dragging you to your feet, then he pressed the barrel of his gun directly to your temple. You went rigid with fear, your hands clawing at his hand wrapped around your neck.

“Stop it,” another voice rang out. Your eyes flicked over to see one of the other men, coming up to the pair of you and grabbing the hand with the gun in it. “He wants them alive.”

“Of course he does,” the first man muttered and then released his grip on you. You fell to the ground again, gasping for breath. “Grab the kid and let’s go.”

“No!” you shouted and wrapped your arms around James, who was still standing near you, eyes wide and wet with shock and fear. He clung to you as well and you stood up.

The second man came over and started tugging James away while the first man wrapped his arms around you, which you fought with everything you had, screaming. He managed to get the kid out of your arms and you watched in horror as he carried your baby back toward the door.

“Don’t hurt him, please,” you sobbed as you were pushed along with them, still fighting.

“That depends entirely on you, sweetheart,” the man holding you said, and you stopped fighting him in defeat, letting him lead you out of the safehouse and toward the vans that they had waiting. There was no getting out of this.

A gunshot rang out into the night, making everyone tense up and look around. You kept your eyes on James, fearing the worst, but it was one of the other two men that fell over, red blossoming from his chest.

The Red Hood emerged from nowhere, dropping down right next to the man that was holding James and knocking his gun away. Before it even hit the ground, Hood had James in his arms and was punching the other man in the face. Hood quickly deposited James on the ground and was going back for more, fighting in a blur until the other man was on the ground and not moving. The two remaining men standing (including the one holding you) were now shooting their guns at Hood, who moved further away from James and threw something back at them. Before you could think about that too much, your whole vision was covered in a thick grey smoke. You coughed, not able to see what was going on.

Someone shoved you from the side and you fell to the ground yet again, thinking that you were going to have some nasty bruises. You heard the sound of more gunshots and fighting behind you, but you focused on the sound of James’ crying and you crawled toward that, your arm throbbing in pain now that you were putting weight on it, but you pushed through it until you reached James and grabbed him, getting to your feet shakily.

“Come on,” a voice commanded, sounding electronically filtered. You looked up to see a bright red helmet staring back at you for a brief second before the Hood was taking James out of your arms, grabbing your hand, and dragging you into a run.

He literally dragged you the first couple of steps until you got your feet under you, and then he was pulling you faster than you could run. Somehow you kept up with it as the Red Hood weaved his way through the city street like he knew exactly where he was going. He was saying something up ahead of you that you couldn’t hear. You sprinted with him for a few minutes, your pace slowing but he kept pulling you forward until you were sure that your lungs were going to explode. You yanked him to a stop and then he pulled you a little further, into a more secluded alleyway. He let go of your hand and you put your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath. He was also breathing hard, but not nearly as bad as you.

“Are you okay?” the voice came again, you weren’t sure who he was talking to, but James gave out another wail of fear and pushed away from Jason. Jason’s other hand came up and did something with the latch of his helmet so that he could pull it off.

“James, buddy, it’s me,” he said, his voice sounding normal now, but strained. James looked up at his father, who was still wearing the domino mask, and stopped trying to get away, but was still crying loudly. Jason tried to shush him, to no avail. He turned to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, looking you up and down, you could swear that you could feel his eyes stop on your blood-covered neck even though you couldn’t see them. He reached forward and ran his fingers down your neck, looking for injury, but you caught his hand with both of yours and shook your head.

“It’s not mine,” you managed to gasp out between breaths. He looked momentarily relieved and then his eyes landed on the cut down your forearm. He gently grabbed your wrist and turned it around so that he could get a better look.

“It’s not too deep,” he said, mostly to reassure himself. Then he gently shifted James so that he could start pulling things out of his belt. He used some sort of wipe to hastily clean away the blood from your arm, and you winced when it stung, but you were too much in shock to do much more. He then put some gauze over the cut and wrapped around your arm, tying it off expertly.

“Anything else?” he asked, snapping you out of your daze. You shook your head. “Alright, listen, we need to get--”

You interrupted him by stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him, bursting into tears as the horror of the last twenty minutes really sunk in. He wasn’t the most comfortable thing to hug, since it was mostly body armor and equipment strapped to him, but you clung to him like he was the softest thing in the world. His arm came up and wrapped around you and you could vaguely hear him murmuring reassurances to you over your sobbing. You knew that this was probably quite the picture, the Red Hood hugging a crying woman while a crying toddler clings to him, but you didn’t care enough to stop.

He let you stay that way for a few minutes before his hand came up to your shoulder and he pushed away just enough so that you could look up at him. His face was strained.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said, sounding more than sincere. “But we need to get it together so that we can move.”

You nodded, noting that James was terrified as he watched you cry and you wiped your face, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. James studied you, seeming to calm down with you.

“What are we doing now?” you asked, trying and failing to sound in control.

“I’m going to take you two to Batman,” he said, deadpan.

“What? Why?” you asked, not expecting that answer in the slightest.

“All of my safehouses are compromised. I have to start everything over now. I can’t keep you safe until I figure out how this happened. He can.”

“So, he’ll take us to the police?” you asked, a little confused as to what he was talking about.

“No, Batman will take care of you,” he said, sounding like he was reaching the end of his patience.

“How do you know that?” You hadn’t ever heard of Batman taking in victims before.

“Because he’s my… dad,” Jason said, chewing on and then spitting out the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. You looked up at him. You knew that he had been Robin, but you also thought that Jason had told you that his dad had died. You wanted to ask, but he had his jaw set in a way that said that he wouldn’t answer any more questions. You stepped back, so that he could lead the way. He scooped up his helmet and put it on, then started walking. You followed in silence, noticing how he got a bit more tense with every step that he took toward Batman.

When he finally stopped right at a corner, he motioned for you to stay where you were and then he handed James to you. James had run out of tears a while ago and now there was just a quiet hitch of his breath every now and then. It hurt you to think about how traumatized he would be after this. Jason got your attention again, though, by stepping out so that he was facing the alley that you couldn’t see down.

“Hood,” a voice growled and you felt a shiver go up your spine. You’d never actually seen the Batman before, but you’d heard enough stories.

“Miss me, B?” Jason said, like he was trying to banter, but he just sounded tired.

“What do you want, Hood? This better not be a waste of time,” a younger voice called out. That must be Robin. The current one.

“I didn’t tell you to bring the squirt,” Jason’s modified voice sounded a little annoyed.

“I’ll show you--”

“What do you want?” Batman’s tired voice cut off the boy’s.

“I… need a favor,” Jason’s voice was quieter now. You knew how much it was probably hurting him to ask for this, after his long history with Batman. You held James a little tighter, ignoring the stinging in your arm.

“We don’t owe you--” Robin’s voice was again cut off by Batman.

“Of course. What do you need?”

“I need you to protect some people for me. I’ll just be gone for a few weeks. A month tops. Someone completely hacked my entire network and I need to get on my feet again,” Jason said, sounding tired. He pulled off the helmet and put it at his feet and then took a deep breath. He beckoned you over.

You approached him slowly, heart beating in your chest. When you came into view, both Batman and Robin turned to look at you. You looked at them, too. They both tensed minutely, but didn’t react beyond that. You stopped at Jason’s side. He put a hand on your shoulder.

“This is Y/N. And this is James,” he indicated and paused for just a second before continuing. “My son.”

That got both of them to look vaguely shocked. You might’ve found the moment funny if you weren’t so tired.

“Mommy. That’s Batman and Robin,” James whispered loudly to you in awe.

“Shhhh, I know, baby,” you said quietly back. Batman was studying you, and that would normally bother you a ton, but you didn’t have the energy to do anything except stare numbly back.

“So?” Jason asked, once the silence had stretched a little too far for him.

“Of course we can protect them,” Batman said and Robin shot him a look, but didn’t interrupt. “I’ll also help you with--”

“No,” Jason said immediately. “My team and I have this. I just need to make sure that they’re safe.”

Batman stared at him for a moment, you got the feeling that he did that a lot, and then finally nodded.

“...Thank you,” Jason said, sounding sincere, but also angry about sounding sincere. You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but his hand on your shoulder was suddenly turning you and tugging the two of you a few steps away. Batman and Robin seemed to get the message and also retreated back down the alley toward the black car that you hadn’t seen before.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Jason whispered to you. You tightened your grip on James.

“You’re leaving us with Batman?” you asked, still too tired to muster up any actual anger about it.

“I know. I know. But as soon as I can figure out who sold me out I can deal with it and then I’ll be back and we can figure something out together. I wouldn’t be doing this if I had any other options,” he said, miserably, shooting a glance over his shoulder at Batman. “I hate it, but being with Batman is literally the safest place that you can be right now.”

You chewed on your lip. “I want you to be safe, too.”

“I’ll be okay,” he reassured you. Then turned to James.

“We’re going with Batman?” James asked from your arms. He was completely worn out from all the action and the question didn’t have all of the excitement that you knew it would have otherwise.

“Yeah, James,” Jason said, ruffling the kid’s hair and giving him a tired smile. “He’s my dad. So you can call him ‘Grandpa’.” You knew that Jason was up to something, but you didn’t ask. James was nodding, but also falling asleep.

“Hey, don’t let Dickface spoil our kid too much,” Jason said, to you this time. You were a little confused, but he didn’t let you answer before he stepped forward and wrapped the both of you in his arms, holding on like you might break if he squeezed too hard.

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair, so quietly that you weren’t even sure that you heard it. Then, before you could decide whether that was real or not, he stepped back and backed away slowly before taking one last look at you and then picking up his helmet and putting it on as he ran away. This time you did roll your eyes at him for being dramatic. You turned around to look at where Batman and Robin were watching you from a distance and then took a deep breath and slowly approached them.

“You’ll both ride in the back,” Batman said, then clicked something on his belt and the back car door slid open. You took a moment to stare in shock at what was the actual Batmobile, before you decided that you didn’t care and approached the car with James. You saw a carseat in the back of the Batmobile, which did surprise you, but you just strapped James in tiredly before climbing in yourself and putting the harness on.

“Agent A, we’re bringing back a couple of guests to stay with us. Could you prepare a room?” Batman said and the voice that answered came through the dashboard of the car.

“Of course, sir. Upstairs or Downstairs?” Batman seemed to think for a moment before answering.

“Upstairs is fine. Thank you.”

The rest of the ride back to wherever you were going was silent, which you weren’t sure if you were grateful for or not. There weren’t any windows in the back and you could barely see the front of the car, so you had no idea where you were going. James had passed out almost the moment that you had started moving. Cars always put him to sleep. You rubbed your hand absentmindedly over his hair to reassure yourself that he was there and okay.

When the car stopped, both Batman and Robin immediately hopped out. You unbuckled yourself and were doing the same for James when the door behind you slipped open. You transferred the sleeping toddler into your arms and then stepped out of the car and into… a cave. You looked around at everything, from the huge computer screens lining one wall to the enormous dinosaur standing in the other corner, along with all of the other strange items in cases. You almost wanted to shake James awake so that he could gush over the cave like you knew he would, but you also knew that he probably needed the rest.

“Ah, it’s been a while since you’ve brought a child home, Master Bruce,” a voice called out and you whirled around to see an older gentleman approaching you. “I was beginning to worry about your health.” There was a distinct note of amusement in his voice.

“Very funny, Alfred. This time it isn’t mine, though. This is Jason’s kid,” Batman said from behind you and you saw as Alfred stopped in his tracks, mouth dropping open in shock. He quickly recovered, though, and kept walking toward you, looking you up and down as you held James protectively to your chest.

“Well, it’s an honor to have the two of you stay with us,” Alfred said smoothly. You managed a polite nod, but realized that you probably looked terrible in dirty clothes and covered in blood.

“Father!” a scandalized voice came from behind you and you turned around quickly to see that Batman had lowered his cowl to reveal…. Bruce Wayne. Huh.

“Relax, Damian. If they’re going to stay with us, they’ll know,” Bruce said, looking tired as he rubbed at his eyes.

“I don’t understand why we are taking care of Todd’s whelp,” the boy drawled and Bruce snapped his head up.

“Hit the showers and then go to bed,” he snapped, looking angry now.

“But--”

“Showers. Bed. Now,” Bruce commanded in the Batman growl that made you shiver again. You doubted that you’d ever get used to that. It was especially weird coming from the face of Bruce Wayne, the supposed carefree playboy billionaire.

“Mommy, too tight,” James mumbled in your arms, still half asleep and you realized that you were indeed squeezing the poor boy too tight. You probably had been all night. You relaxed your arms just a little bit. Bruce and Alfred were now looking at you, so they had probably heard too.

Damian sent you a withering glare as he walked by, apparently over to wherever the showers were. When he was almost out of sight, Bruce called out to him.

“Call Dick for me, Damian,” he said.

“Yes, father,” Damian answered, without looking back and then disappeared.

“Sorry about Damian,” Bruce said, calmer now. “He’s still learning manners.”

You nodded again, your brain not working well enough to form words yet.

“If you’ll give James to me, Alfred can take a look at your arm,” Bruce said, holding out his arms. You eyed him warily for a moment and then moved to give him the sleeping kid. You realized that your arms were shaking with the effort of holding James basically all night. He probably noticed too. James didn’t stir as you started to pass him over to Bruce, but before you had completely let go, he made a high-pitched whine of protest and reached back out toward you. You had an unfortunate flashback of the man ripping James out of your arms and dragging him away from you and before you could think about it you were surging forward, snatching the child back into your arms and squeezing tight again. Bruce immediately backed off, looking a bit alarmed.

“Sorry,” you breathed, trying to find the words to explain yourself.

“It’s quite alright, my dear girl,” Alfred cut in smoothly. “Why don’t you take a seat and I can look at you right here?” He led you over to a chair next to the big desk and you shifted James into a more comfortable position so that you could hold out your arm into Alfred’s outstretched hands. With gentle fingers, he peeled off the makeshift bandage that Jason had put on you and inspected the cut. It had stopped bleeding, at least.

“Not too bad,” Alfred told you and reached over to pull something out of a drawer. “No need for stitches. I can use the glue on this. It’ll only take a moment.” He got to work, and you averted your eyes, just feeling another sting and some tugging.

“What happened?” Bruce asked you from where he stood a few feet away. He was studying you and you felt like he could see right through you.

You gave a surprisingly bitter laugh. “Don’t ask me. Jason just showed up and said that Black Mask was sending men after us. That’s all I know.”

Bruce hummed like he was thinking.

“And how long has he been…?” Bruce trailed off like he was trying to find the right word. He was looking at James, no doubt trying to determine his age. “Around?”

“Jason? About a year. He didn’t know about James before that,” you informed him.

“Why not?” You blinked in shock for a second, surprised at the accusatory tone that he was trying to hide.

“Master Bruce, at least wait until morning until you ask questions,” Alfred chastised.

“It was kind of hard to find a dead man,” you answered, shrugging and then regretting it when Bruce winced sharply. “It was pure chance that I found him again. I told him right away.”

“Sorry,” Bruce sighed, “I don’t have very good experiences with surprise children.” He was looking off over to where Damian had disappeared. “Alfred’s right, we can talk more in the morning. It’s probably been a long night for the two of you.”

“Okay,” you said, not really sure what else to say.

Alfred was right and it didn’t take long for him to be done patching you up and bandaging your arm. You flexed your fingers when he let go, feeling the dull pain that shot up your arm. He apparently also put some sort of numbing cream on it as well.

“If you’ll follow me, I have a bedroom prepared for the two of you,” Alfred said professionally, and with a last glance at Bruce, you did.

If you weren’t so tired, you would have been staring in awe at everything that you saw as you walked, from the rest of the cave, up to the secret entrance to the mansion through a clock, and then at the finery and sheer size of the mansion around you. Alfred stopped for a moment into a different room and you waited outside until he reappeared with a bundle of clothing in his arms. You kept going.

You quickly lost track of the turns that you took to get over to your bedroom, though bedroom was a dubious term for it, since it was probably almost as big as your entire apartment. Alfred opened the door for you, but didn’t follow you in.

“There are towels in the bathroom. Be careful not to get the bandages on your arm too wet, but they’re water resistant enough for a shower. I’ve managed to find some clothing for you both to wear for the moment, but it will probably be too big for the boy, we didn’t have anything that small here,” Alfred informed you professionally.

“Thank you Alfred,” you said, sincerely.

“Get some rest. In the morning, three right turns will lead you to the kitchen and there will be breakfast there for you,” Alfred said kindly, and then turned around and left, leaving the door open.

You walked over and closed the door with a soft click. Then leaned over and rested your forehead against it, taking a deep breath. You doubted that you would feel safe anywhere right now, after being taken from two separate places, but this room was not the worst place you could be. There was a soft yellow light coming from a lamp by the bed and while everything spoke of serious money, it wasn’t in that intimidating way that sometimes happened. It looked more homey than anything.

“James, baby. Let’s get you cleaned off and then we can get in the bed,” you murmured to him. He stirred a little bit, but stayed asleep. You’d debated just getting under the covers and not worrying about anything until tomorrow, but you looked down at yourself and saw that both you and James were covered in blood and that turned your stomach enough to want to go through the effort of cleaning off. You drew a quick bath and stripped James out of his dirty clothes. He was sleepy enough to be cooperative, and you made quick work of cleaning him off and changing him into the rather large set of pants and a shirt. Afterwards, you set him in the bed, already asleep, and you took a shower yourself. It felt more like you were in a dream as you watched the blood mix with the water and swirl down the drain. Pink.

When you were done, you slowly dressed in the t-shirt and sweats that he had given you. They fit surprisingly well. You stumbled over to the bed and collapsed next to James. Two nights in a row with no sleep was starting to get to you and you passed out with your son in your arms.

Chapter Text

“Mommy, I’m hungry.” You blinked open your eyes to see that James had placed his face directly in front of yours and was staring at you with wide eyes. You jerked back.

“Jesus, James I told you not to do that,” you complained, sitting up and rubbing at your eyes. They felt like sandpaper in the way that meant that you had not gotten nearly enough sleep, but one look at James showed you that he wasn’t going to go back to sleep any time soon, so you slowly pulled yourself out of bed. It looked like the sun was just barely coming up, so it was still early. You doubted that anyone else would be up by now, but Alfred had told you where the kitchen was, so you hoped that he wouldn’t mind if you rifled around and found something that James could eat.

James walked by your side, your hands linked as he stayed close to you, tripping over the large pants even though you’d rolled them up. You’d debated about putting him back in his actual clothes, but then you remembered how dirty they were and decided that it would be fine. You took the three right turns, now more awake after a couple of hours of sleep to properly gawk at all of the finery in the hallways.

“Is this really Batman’s house? Does Robin live here? Why are there so many doors?” James chattered as he walked, seemingly in a good mood. It made you smile a little bit as you listened, at least you knew that he wasn’t completely traumatized from the past two nights. He seemed excited more than anything, but he still clung to your hand and didn’t try to run ahead like he normally would have.

“Shhh James. That has to be a secret,” you said to him.

“A secret?”

“Yeah, we’re not supposed to talk about it. You can keep a secret, right?” you said seriously.

“Yes!” he said, seeming excited to be sharing a secret.You rolled your eyes, knowing that he didn’t really understand and you’d have to reinforce that a couple of times before he did.

You reached the last turn and found yourself in a dining room with a table that could probably seat twenty, but no one in sight. There was a doorway on the other side of the table, so you walked over and peeked through it, revealing not only a kitchen, but also someone standing in front of the oven, sliding something into it.

“Ah, Miss Y/N. I wasn’t expecting you up so soon,” Alfred said, taking off the oven mitts and putting them away. “What can I do for you?”

You walked a few steps further in, noticing that James was now hiding behind you, hugging your legs.

“James was hungry so we thought that we’d come and see if there was a quick snack for him,” you explained, yawning behind a hand.

“I see,” Alfred said and approached you. He bent down to look at James and gave him a kind smile. “And what would the young master like to eat?” he asked and you were thrown a little bit by the term ‘master’.

“Pancakes! With syrup and white cream and m&ms,” James said, naming off his favorite breakfast food that you’d given him.

“He’ll eat whatever you have, Alfred,” you told the old man. “No need to go out of your way--”

“Pancakes sound like a wonderful idea. I don’t have any m&ms, but I believe that chocolate chips would make a good substitute,” Alfred declared, and James burst into a big smile. You silently groaned. You could already tell that James was going to love Alfred. “Would you be so kind as to help me mix up the batter?”

James nodded and came out from behind you, following Alfred to the counter and the old man lifted James up so that he could sit and watch as he pulled out various ingredients from different places in the kitchen. You noticed some barstools next to the island in the kitchen, and you settled yourself onto one, putting your head down on the counter and enjoying the coolness of the marble.

“I’ll put on a pot of coffee, if you’d like, Miss Y/N,” Alfred said.

“That would be great, thank you,” you answered, realizing that you should probably be more formal in someone else’s mansion and sat up straight. Alfred gave you a small smile as he started the fanciest coffee maker that you’d ever seen, then returned to where James was sitting and handed him a mixing spoon, which he took happily.

You watched for a while as Alfred measured out different ingredients and put them into the bowl, letting James stir the whole thing messily with both hands. You couldn’t help but smile at his exuberance. The smell of coffee was slowly filling up the entire kitchen, along with a savory smell of whatever was currently in the oven.

Alfred was just heating up the pan to put the batter on when someone else walked through the doorway. It was a boy, probably a couple years younger than you, with long dark hair that was sticking up at odd angles and bags under his eyes that out-matched your own. He was wearing a full business suit. He didn’t even notice you sitting there and walked straight over to the coffee, which was ready exactly when he got there. Pulling out a mug from somewhere, he filled a cup and then took a long drink out of it.

His eyes then caught sight of James staring at him, sitting on the counter away from the hot stove and his entire body tensed.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuu,” he said, drawing it out for a while like he realized halfway through that he probably shouldn’t finish the curse in front of the child. Then he cut himself off and turned to Alfred. “Another one?” he asked, in the most tired voice that you had ever heard.

“Good morning, Master Tim. I would like to introduce you to Miss Y/N, Master Jason’s soulmate, and young Master James, his son,” Alfred said, gesturing to you two. You blushed a little bit, not used to calling yourself Jason’s soulmate. Tim whirled around and seemed to see you for the first time. He froze, like his brain couldn’t comprehend the words that came out of Alfred’s mouth. After a second, Alfred cleared his throat in a gentle reminder.

“Oh, um, hi,” Tim said, seeming to come back to himself. “I’m going to go, um, catch up on last night’s briefings,” he said awkwardly and then fled out of the kitchen, coffee still in hand. You turned to watch him go.

“Don’t mind Master Tim. He’ll regain his filter after a couple of cups of coffee,” Alfred assured you as you gave him a look with raised eyebrows. “Breakfast will be ready soon. How about we start setting the table?”

You jumped off the stool and walked over to take James off of the counter and put him on the floor. Alfred handed the little boy a butter dish to go put on the table and handed you a big bowl full of freshly whipped cream. You kept a close eye on James as you walked back to the dining room table. That butter dish probably cost as much as your rent for the month.

The three of you set things on the table and Alfred arranged it how he wanted. You noticed that he put down seven or so plates stacked on the table and you wondered just how many people were living in the mansion. It was probably big enough to fit 30, at least.

You had just finished setting the table when a tired-eyed Bruce stumbled in and sat down at the head of the table, looking surprised to see you up. It didn’t look like he had gone back to sleep at all after you had left, you wondered if anyone actually slept in this manor.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Bruce said, trying at civility.

“Morning,” you mumbled and sat down, pulling James up into your lap so that he could reach up to the table. James started reaching toward the bowl of strawberries on the table, but then looked up at Bruce.

“Who are you?” he asked abruptly. He didn’t remember seeing Bruce in the Batman suit apparently. You opened your mouth to answer, but then decided that you wanted to hear what his answer was. You didn’t feel too bad about it, since he was Batman. He could face down a four year old.

“My name is Bruce,” Bruce said, clearing his throat and sounding uncomfortable. James just nodded like that was enough information and grabbed the strawberry.

“Good morning, Father. Alfred,” a voice came, along with a younger boy that looked a lot like Bruce. You recognized him as Robin, from last night. Damian. He sat on the other side of the table from you, his posture pristine. You did notice how his greeting had pointedly not included you, but you didn’t comment. You idly wondered why the boy seemed to have an immediate dislike of you.

“Damian, it is rude not to greet our guests,” Alfred said, entering the room and putting down a steaming plate of pancakes in the middle of the table. Damian looked over to you and gave a stiff nod. You noted that Alfred had enough respect around here to make the boy comply without argument. You smiled nervously back.

“Chocolate chip pancakes, Alfred?” Bruce said, picking one up and looking at it.

“A very good suggestion from young Master James,” Alfred said with a smile. James beamed back at him and that seemed to be enough for Bruce to accept it and start eating.

James started to reach across the table to get a pancake, but you held him back and grabbed the plate yourself, getting one and then passing the rest of them over Damian’s way. You started putting toppings on the pancake and then used the fork and knife to cut it into pieces before handing the fork to James, who fisted it and stabbed a piece and clumsily stuff it in his mouth. You noticed that Damian was watching this whole thing with derision. You ignored him and poured yourself some coffee from the pot on the table, taking a drink and immediately noticing how much better it was than the cheap instant stuff that you usually bought. The three of you ate in an uneasy silence. Damian didn’t touch the pancakes.

After a moment, James declared that he was done, so you took the sticky fork from him and used it to quickly finish off the rest of the pancake and fruit on the plate. You were just about done when Tim walked back into the dining room, looking at least a little bit more alert. He refilled his coffee cup and then took a seat right next to Bruce. This time, his eyes quickly found you and he gave a small smile.

“Hi, Y/N, sorry about earlier,” he said.

“No problem,” you shrugged. You could hardly blame the kid, since he had woken up to find two strange people in his house.

“I’m off to the board meeting. I have all of the figures that we discussed earlier, is there anything else that you can think of, last minute?” Tim asked, turning to Bruce.

“That’s this morning? I was hoping that--,” Bruce was cut off by Damian.

“I hardly think that Wayne Enterprises has need of a CEO that’s second-guessing himself, Drake. I would be more--”

“No, Tim. I can’t think of anything else. I think that what we have will be more than enough to convince the other members. You should take a half day, though. I think that Dick is going to be here soon and I’m sure that he would like to see you,” Bruce cut in. The glare that was coming from Damian was enough to assure you that it wasn’t just you that the kid seemed to dislike. Tim glanced over at you again before answering.

“I’ll see if I can slip out, but Lucius also wanted to go over some of the finer points of our new project today and…” he trailed off. “Well, we’ll see.” He finished his cup of coffee and put it down on the table and then stood up and gathered up a bag and then headed toward the door. As breakfast continued, you could hear the sound of a door opening and then closing, then there was a muted conversation coming from the direction that Tim had disappeared from. It sounded like it turned into an argument, and then Tim reappeared into the kitchen, being pushed on both shoulders by someone else.

The man pushing Tim was a couple years older than you, with the same black hair and light eyes as the other two (you could understand now how Tim seemed exasperated about a dark haired light eyed boy sitting in his kitchen), but he was also giving a bright smile in contrast to Tim’s scowl.

“Where are they?” he asked as he walked in, then set down the two large bags around his shoulders with loud thunks that told you that they were heavy. His eyes scanned the table and when they landed on you and James, his smile got impossibly bigger. He quickly walked around the table to approach you.

“Hi there! James, right? It’s very nice to meet you. I’m your Uncle Dick!” he said to James, bending down so that they were the same height as James sat on your lap. He offered his hand to the little boy, which James took before you could stop him. Dick didn’t comment on the stickiness, though. James looked up at him with big eyes and then looked over at you in a way that you could interpret.

“Uncle is a word for family. It means that he’s Jason’s brother,” you explained to him.

“Daddy has a brother?” James whispered, looking a little bit confused.

“Oh my god he’s so adorable,” Dick said, turning away like he was trying to shield himself from the cuteness. “He looks just like a little Jason, B.” Bruce grunted. Dick turned back to James. “Yes! He has a lot of brothers and sisters. They probably didn’t introduce themselves yet, so look. This is your Uncle Damian. That over there is your Uncle Tim. You’ll still have to meet your Aunts, Cass and Stephanie and Barabara. And that right there is Jason’s dad.” He gestured to them in turn.

James looked up at Dick, looking a little overwhelmed. Then he looked like he was thinking hard for a second before he turned over to Bruce and shouted, “Grandpa!” Everyone in the room went completely still in shock. The look on Bruce’s face was indescribable. Somewhere between shocked and horrified. Then, after a heartbeat or two, Dick and Tim turned away to attempt to stifle their laughter, but were unsuccessful, and Damian was somehow giving off even more of a murderous aura. You found yourself also grinning despite yourself and James turned to you in confusion, apparently thinking that he had gotten that wrong. You nodded and smiled at him to reassure him a bit.

“Sorry, Jason told him that. If you don’t want him to call you--,” you began, diplomatically, but Bruce waved you off.

“It’s fine,” he said, giving a glare at Tim and Dick, which only made them laugh harder.

“Weren’t you going to a meeting, Drake?” Damian drawled. Tim opened his mouth to answer, but Dick beat him to it.

“How could Tim leave when he has an adorable nephew to meet? He’s taking the morning off for a family emergency. They can delay the meeting for at least a few hours,” Dick reasoned, then turned back to you.

“Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to ignore you. I’m Dick Grayson. Jason’s brother,” he introduced himself smoothly and you nodded at him, since your hands were full with James and also still sticky. Alfred appeared from the kitchen and offered you a wet cloth to wipe your hands down with. You took it gratefully, a little stunned that he had known exactly what you needed.

“Ah, Master Dick, you’ve arrived. I’ll take your bags up to your old room, yes?” Alfred said, walking over.

“No way, Alfred. I’ll take them later,” Dick waved him off and then took a seat next to you. Tim walked over to his previously vacated seat and sat down, looking a little annoyed.

“Uncle?” James piped up, pointing at Alfred.

“Huh? Oh, no, he’s…,” you trailed off, not actually sure what Alfred was to them. Dick saved you.

“He’s your great grandpa,” Dick informed James while he piled pancakes onto a plate and drenched them in syrup. “That’s like your grandpa, but even better.” James nodded shyly. You shot Dick a confused look, pretty sure that that wasn’t entirely true, but he just answered with a shrug and then moved on. “How old are you, buddy?”

“I’m four years old,” James proudly announced, wiggling in your lap so that he could turn to face Dick.

“Wow, that’s so old,” Dick said, sounding suitably impressed. “Do you go to school?”

“Mommy says I can go soon,” James said, sounding excited. “I know all the letters, so I can go soon.”

“Shouldn’t he be in preschool?” Bruce asked, sounding curious.

“I couldn’t make it work out with my work schedule,” you explained, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. Jason and you had talked about that, too, and agreed that James could start Kindergarten in a few months and be fine. Bruce just nodded, thankfully not seeming judgemental.

“Are you Batman?” James asked, suddenly startling everyone’s attention back to him as he addressed Bruce. “Daddy says that you are Batman.”

“Your dad said that, huh?” Bruce said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup!” his little eyes wandered around the room until they settled on Tim. “Robin?” he said, sounding a little unsure of himself. Damian made a noise of outrage on the other side of the table while Dick snorted. Tim looked flattered and didn’t correct James.

“Todd’s child is predictably lacking in deductive skills,” Damian scoffed. James’ face scrunched up in confusion as he tried to follow Damian’s words.

“Relax, Dames, he’s just a little kid,” Dick defended, getting his laughter under control.

“A little kid that knows our secrets! He can’t be trusted not to tell anyone,” Damian insisted.

“We’ll deal with that later. For now, Y/N, I wanted to ask you some questions, if that’s alright,” Bruce cut in, sounding tired.

“Sure,” you responded, and then looked at James who was still looking at Damian, perhaps making the connection that the younger one was indeed Robin. You probably didn’t want him here for this, but you had no idea what to do with him. Luckily, Alfred seemed to know what you needed as soon as you did yet again. You hoped that they were paying that man well.

“Come along, James. Let’s go clean up, shall we?” Alfred asked, approaching James. James looked at you and then you nodded and gave him a kiss on his head before lifting him off your lap and he took Alfred’s outstretched hand and followed him into the kitchen. You watched him disappear and then turned back toward the table, noticing that you now had the full attention of the entire room.

“So, Y/N, why don’t you start at the beginning,” Bruce suggested, prompting you to wrap your arms around yourself protectively now that James was gone from your lap.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, giving yourself some time to think about what you wanted to say. “I met Jason at the Night Owl four years ago,” you began, giving up on trying to put things elegantly and just spitting it out. You figured that you should give them some context, since, from what Jason had told you, it had been a very eventful couple of years for him. “This was after he trained with the All-Caste, but before he was done with Talia.”

You received four blank stares at your words.

“Oh, so I’m going to assume that Jason hasn’t told you about any of that, then?” you asked, feeling even more self-conscious.

“No, actually. We haven’t seen much of Jason since…,” Bruce trailed off, seeming to think better of what he was going to say. Probably “since he tried his best to kill all of us”. You understood his reluctance.

“Of course he would,” you sighed. “Sorry, I figured that he just didn’t want to talk about you, not that he literally didn’t talk to you. And he never talks to me about anything that happened before he died.”

“That’s fine. Maybe you can fill us in on what you know later. Compare notes?” Dick asked, sounding hopeful.

You pursed your lips, thinking. If Jason didn’t talk to his family about all of the stuff that had happened then he probably didn’t want them to know. “Maybe,” you hedged, quietly.

“How long were you together?” Bruce prompted, also seeming to understand your reluctance.

“Together?” your eyes flicked up to him in surprise, then you realized what he was asking and answered with a blush. “Oh, no we weren’t together… It was just one night…”

That seemed to shock the rest of them. “One night? The chances of that happening are…,” Tim muttered to himself.

“Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know the odds,” you said, sounding a bit more tired than you had meant to.

“Wasn’t Todd still affected by the pit rage at that time?” Damian piped up.

You shrugged. “He seemed alright, if a bit intense. He said that Ducra’s training mellowed him out a ton. That might be why it ended with someone breaking in and trying to kill him, though.”

Dick let out a low whistle. “Some one-night stand.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, remembering one of the most eventful months of your entire life. “Afterwards I couldn’t find the guy. I thought that maybe he was dead, and, well…”

“You found out that you were pregnant,” Bruce finished for you.

“Yeah,” you agreed again. “I didn’t see Jason again until about a year ago. He showed up at my work and surprised the hell out of me. I told him about James and to call me if he wanted to be a dad.”

“Of course he called you. Jay wouldn’t just leave you by yourself,” Dick burst out. Everyone else seemed to mutter agreement, but gave looks like they were less sure about that than Dick.

“He did,” you reassured him. “He’s actually been really involved. Well, as much as he can. He still goes off on ‘business’ a lot of the time with Roy and Kori.” You made air quotes on the word business. “I usually don’t ask too much about it, before you ask.”

Everyone else at the table exchanged wary looks with each other. You reconsidered.

“Should I be asking more about it?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at Bruce. He thought about it for a second and then cleared his throat.

“I think that Jason is a man trying to escape his past. Trying to be better,” Bruce answered slowly.

You nodded, relaxing a little bit. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too.”

“Well, now that you’re together I’m sure that he’s doing a lot better,” Dick said, shooting you a smile and a wink.

“Oh, we’re still not ‘together’,” you corrected, heat starting to creep to your face again.

“But you’re soulmates?” Dick said, tilting his head in confusion and then glancing back over to where James had disappeared.

“James comes first,” you said, automatically. “We haven’t really talked about it beyond that. I’m not sure that Jason can handle anything beyond that. His… occupation is not really suited for it.”

Dick still looked confused. “Isn’t the point of soulmates that you CAN handle it?”

“Uh huh,” you said, looking around the room. “And I’m sure that you all have long-lasting, healthy romantic relationships, then?” You turned to Bruce. “Even after finding your soulmate?”

They all looked away.

“Thought so,” you muttered under your breath.

“So Jason just left you here with us, without telling you anything?” Tim asked after a second.

“Yup.” And he’ll learn exactly what you thought of that when he got back. “He was so certain that you would help, I’m a little surprised that he doesn’t talk to you.”

“Of course we’ll help. He’s family,” Dick defended, shooting a glare around the table like he was challenging them to argue. They all just shrugged. “Though, I can’t believe that Little Wing knew that he had a kid for a year and never told anyone,” he complained.

“Yes, well, anyway we should--” Bruce began, but was cut off by the sound of something shattering on the floor in the kitchen, and a high pitched squeal.

You jumped to your feet and rushed over to the kitchen, heartbeat racing. You saw James sitting on the floor next to the counter covered in flour. The large ceramic jar that had been holding the flour sat next to him, shattered into pieces. You rushed over, stepping less carefully over the glass in your bare feet than you probably should have, and knelt next to James.

“James! Are you okay, baby?” you asked, frantically checking him over for injuries. He wasn’t crying, just wiping flour off of his face and out of his mouth. It didn’t seem like the jar had hit him.

“I believe that the jar just missed him after he tipped it, thank goodness,” Alfred said, right next to you.

“I’m okay mommy,” James said, after spitting out a puff of flour. Then he gave you a wide smile, but that fell when he saw your expression. You did your best to breathe and stop your panic.

“What were you doing?” you asked, sternly.

“We were putting things away. I got the jar for Mr. Alf. It was an accident,” James said, not quite pronouncing the word right and looking like he was about to cry.

You sighed and then scooped your kid up in a hug, ignoring the flour that he got all over your clothes. “I’m just glad that you’re okay,” you said soothingly. James wrapped his little arms around you in a hug and seemed to calm down.

“Alright, now what do you say to Mr. Alfred?” you asked, pulling him away and turning him toward Alfred.

“I’m sorry for breaking the jar,” he said, looking down at his feet.

“Not to worry, my dear boy. I have a spare one in the pantry. Accidents happen,” Alfred said, giving James a small smile, ruffling his flour-dusted hair, and already starting to clean up the mess of broken glass and flour all over the floor.

You stood up, noticing that Dick was standing at the door and everyone behind him was also looking in at you. They all had varying emotions painted across their faces from what you could see.

“Sorry about that, Alfred,” you said, feeling like you had to apologize, too. “I hope that wasn’t anything too important. I can clean it up.” Alfred waved you away.

“I’m just glad that he wasn’t hurt. It’s my fault for taking my eyes off of him,” Alfred reasoned. “You two can go clean up yourselves, I’ll get this.”

You nodded and hauled James up into your arms so that he wouldn’t get flour everywhere he tried to walk, noticing the burn from the cut on your arm while you did so.

“We’re all good? Do you need me to do anything? I can carry him for you if you need,” Dick offered, looking at your bandaged arm.

“No, thanks. We’re going to clean up really quick. We’ll be right back,” you said to the whole room, walking past Dick. They all seemed fine, though Damian was muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch.

You retraced your steps back to your room and once again got James ready for another quick bath, since his hair was covered in flour and that would be the easiest way to get it out. Now awake, James resisted you through the bath, probably wanting to go back and talk to Batman and Robin some more.

“Mommy! Mr. Alf was so great! We had so much chocolate left. We can put the rest into cookies!” James was babbling, making wild gestures with his arms. You scrubbed him down methodically, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. You had him dried and half-dressed in record time when he continued.

“Were you talking to Batman and Robin, mommy? What were they talking about? Were you talking about me?”

“We were talking about daddy,” you said, trying to get his shirt onto him, but he turned, not letting you.

“You told them about the spaceship?!” James said, referring to the lego project that Jason and James had been working on recently, and doing his best impression of disappointment at you.

“No, I–”

But he didn’t let you finish before he dodged your catching arms, and was out of the bathroom and running down the hall, his hair dripping down his half-clothed body.

“You didn’t say about the ultra-boosters,” he said, pulling out a nonsense word that Jason had taught-him. “I’ll tell them about the ultra-boosters.”

You stood up, towel and shirt in hand and sighed until you heard the triumphant squeal of the boy as he managed to get out of the bathroom without you. You perked up, recognizing the old game that the two of you had often played in the past, and stood up to run after him.

You saw him just ahead of you in the hallway as he pumped his little legs as fast as they would go. When he heard you following, he sped up even more, giggling uncontrollably.

“Get back here, you half-naked spaceman,” you called when you were catching up to him, trying not to embarrass yourself further, but unable to disappoint your kid when he was clearly having so much fun. He squealed as he saw you close in and you saw him turn into an open door. You skidded to a stop and followed him in, scooping him up sideways into your arms.

“I’ve got you now!” you declared, triumphant.

“Robin! Save me!” he wailed, reaching out, and you looked up briefly to see that he had turned into the sitting room connected to the main hall and dining room, which was now occupied with all of the Wayne family (minus Alfred). They had all looked up in shock as the little boy had barreled in. Your face immediately went red.

“Robin can't save you now!” you declared dramatically, choosing to ignore everyone else, and lifted the boy up to blow a big raspberry onto his unclothed belly. James shrieked in laughter and used his little hands to try and push your face away.

“Mommy, noooo!” he cried, laughing.

“Let’s go get a shirt on you,” you chided and then sat him down and forced his shirt over his head, which he tolerated long enough to get his hand through and then ran away from you and right up to Dick, who lifted him up and into his lap with a big smile. The rest of the men in the room were all looking at the two of you with varying expressions on their faces that you didn’t care to examine.

You wanted to collect James and leave them to whatever they had been talking about before you barged in, but Dick was currently deep in a conversation with James about ultra-boosters that didn’t seem like it was going to be over anytime soon. Bruce gestured to a seat over on a couch next to Tim, and you walked over and sat down.

“He seems like he has quite a lot of energy,” Bruce commented, turning from James and Dick to you.

“Yeah, always.” You laughed a little bit. “I’m just glad that he’s so resilient. I thought that he might’ve been more freaked out about the past couple days.” You knew you were.

“Could you tell us about that?” Bruce prompted, and you launched into the story of exactly what had happened from the moment that Jason had pulled you out of your house to when you had seen Batman in the alleyway. Bruce and Tim stopped you a couple of times to ask questions, but Damian just listened and said nothing. On his face was the most complicated look, you thought, as he looked between Dick and James and you. You could tell that Dick was also paying attention while he was talking to James.

“So he didn’t say how long he was going to be.” Bruce ran a hand through his hair, looking every bit like the tired dad that he was.

“No,” you said, “If you’re busy, I’m sure that we could–”

“No, no. You’ll have to stay here while Jason cleans up whatever mess he’s in,” Bruce interrupted your offer to find somewhere else to stay. He seemed firm in that decision, so you bit your tongue at the automatic protest that immediately rose in your mind.

Instead, you pointed out, “We don’t have anything of James’ here. I’m going to need some stuff from back home.”

“We can take care of that!” Dick put in, looking up from where he was sitting with James. “Just make a list or something and Timmy and I can go and grab it from your place.”

You hesitantly nodded, thinking that you didn’t really want to go back to your place right now. Your mind started listing out the things that you would want and ranking them based on importance.

“Can you get my legos? And the dinosaur in my room? And the cars, don’t forget the cars!” James started, still sounding very excited.

“Of course, buddy! Maybe we’ll also stop and get some new things for you, since we’ve missed a lot of birthdays.” Dick said immediately and you groaned internally, now knowing what Jason had meant about not letting ‘Dickface’ spoil James. James, of course, perked right up at the thought of new toys.

It didn’t take too long for you to write down a quick list of objects that you wanted and Dick and Tim made their way to the garage to leave. Bruce announced that there was some work that he needed to do in his study for a couple of hours and you found yourself alone with Damian, who was told to keep an eye on the two of you by Dick. You shifted in your seat a little uncomfortably, but James didn’t seem to understand the tension of the room and walked right up to Damian, tugging on his pant leg.

“Do you want to play Batman and Robin with me?” James asked, all big eyes and innocent pleading.

“Why would I want to play Batman and Robin with you?” Damian scoffed, and you opened your mouth to say something, but James didn’t look deterred.

“You can be Batman! I’ll be Robin and I can fly in and punch bad guys. It’ll be like bam, bam!” James said, while demonstrating, punching imaginary bad guys. He even did a somersault to dodge an imaginary blow. You hid your laughter behind your hand.

“That’s not how that works,” Damian said, scoffing again. “You’d be a very dead Robin with moves like that.”

“Then show me!” James pleaded, tugging on the older boy’s hand. “That’s Batman’s job.”

“Robin has to do everything that Batman says. That’s rule number one,” Damian said, looking serious. James nodded eagerly, holding onto his every word.

You watched for a while as they found a bit of bare floor and Damian went over the basics of doing a proper somersault, sounding more like an olympics-level gymnastics coach than someone playing with a four-year-old, but James seemed to be trying his very best, his little face scrunched up in concentration. You watched as Damian demonstrated, and then looked like he didn’t know how to take it when James declared that he was the best somersaulter in the history of somersaults. You decided that they were probably fine for a moment and felt your eyes start to close as you settled on the surprisingly comfortable couch.

When you woke up the first thing that you saw was that Tim had rejoined you on the couch. He was scrolling through a fancy laptop looking incredibly absorbed into whatever was on the screen. You figured that he was working, even though he had changed out of his fancy suit. It was still amazing to you how someone so young could run Bruce Wayne’s entire company. And also be a vigilante by night. You guessed that he didn’t get much sleep.

Your attention was quickly caught by the ruckus that was going on behind you, and you sat up and turned around to see what was going on. Dick had James’ ankles in his hands as he coached the little boy into doing a handstand. James looked thrilled, and called out when he saw you looking.

“Look mommy, I’m upside-down!”

You smiled at him, glad that they had been able to watch him without too much trouble while you napped. You felt a lot better after getting some much-needed sleep. You watched for a moment more while Dick very patiently explained how to balance and then let go. James made it about three seconds before he tumbled back down onto the ground in a fit of giggles and then demanded that they try again.

“I want to jump off buildings and do flips and punch bad guys. Just like Robin!” James announced, turning his big eyes toward Damian. You held back a snort of laughter at the look on the elder boy’s face. He really didn’t know what to do with all of the hero-worship that the child was laying on him and it was mildly hilarious.

You turned back toward Tim, who was also looking at Damian with an amused smirk on his face.

“How worried should I be about that?” you asked, still sounding tired.

Tim thought about it for a second and then raised his hand and wobbled it in the classic “eh” gesture. You groaned.

“So, did you get all of the things on the list?”

Tim paused for long enough that you knew that he was going to give you bad news before he said, “Yeah, almost everything. We put it all back in the room that you stayed in last night.”

“But…?” you prompted, wanting to get this over with.

“But,” Tim said, looking around like he’d rather not be the person to tell you this, “they completely tore the place apart. Probably took whatever was in that safe that we found and maybe a few more things, but it was hard to tell because the place was so wrecked.”

“Great.” You sighed and picked your feet up so that you could hug your knees. Tim gave you a worried glance, but you ignored him for a moment, thinking about everything that you were going to have to do after this. Jason would probably insist that he could get you a different place to stay, and you now knew for certain where his seemingly unending source of money was coming from, but something just felt wrong to you about letting him do everything…

You shook your head and pulled yourself out of your thoughts. That would be a future problem. Step one was letting Jason figure out what had happened and then making sure that it didn’t happen again. At least, hopefully.

The sound of yelling pulled your attention back behind the couch to where James had been playing. You quickly turned back around to see James on the floor again, but instead of giggling, there were furious tears running down his face. Dick was next to him, one hand wrapped around Damian’s arm, looking a strange combination of angry and sad.

“Damian, stop. He’s just a little kid, he doesn’t know how to do it,” Dick said, voice firm.

“At his age, I was already training with a katana in my grandfather’s army,” Damian said, looking down his nose at James. “He’s slow.”

“He’s doing his best,” Dick defended. “You’re the older one here, I expected you to know better.” Dick threw an apologetic look at you and then bent down to pick up James, who eagerly hugged into Dick and cried on his shirt. Dick stood and came toward you.

“Just a scraped knee. He fell a bit too hard, I’m sorry Y/N. I know where Alfred keeps the band-aids, I’ll be right back,” Dick reassured you and you nodded. He disappeared out the door. You turned your attention back to Damian, who was purposefully not looking at you.

“It was not my fault,” he eventually said, staring you straight in the eyes with his cold green ones. You got a chill down your spine, like you were looking at royalty or something. You had to take a breath and remind yourself that you were still just talking to a kid.

“I never said it was,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“If Todd’s kid can’t even do something this simple, then he’ll never survive. I was able to do twice as much at his age,” Damian scoffed, and you think that you understood the sadness that you had seen in Dick’s eyes.

“Damian,” you said, after a pause, “can I give you some advice?”

The kid merely narrowed his eyes at you. You continued.

“Eventually, we all have to look at how we were raised and think: Should that be passed on, or can I do better?”

He looked like he was about to say something, but then another voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

“All better!” Dick said, in what you’d come to learn was his usual cheery fashion. He breezed into the room and smoothly deposited James onto your lap where he needed to proudly show you the Batman band-aid that he had gotten from Dick. You listened patiently while noting that the three brothers had their heads together and were having a whispered conversation.

After a moment or two, Dick clapped his hands. “Alright, I can’t wait any longer! Who wants to go see the new presents that your Uncle Tim and I bought you?”

Predictably, James jumped right up and was excited at the thought of new toys. You watched him bounce around and thought that you would at least get some decent sleep tonight, with all the running around that James was doing. Dick grabbed Tim by the arm, forcing him to his feet and making him almost dump the very expensive looking laptop onto the floor. He saved it just in time, but Dick was already dragging Tim out of the room while James followed.

Right at the doorway, James looked back, smiling at Damian. “Are you coming?” Apparently all previous transgressions had been forgiven in the way that can only happen with a four-year-old.

Damian shot you a look that you couldn’t read, but you motioned to answer the kid and he just huffed and walked over, where James excitedly led them after Dick. Now alone, you briefly contemplated whether you should follow them to keep an eye on things or not. Eventually, you decided that Dick probably had a good enough handle on things and made your way up to the room that you had stayed in.

True to his word, Tim had placed a couple of big packed bags on the bed that upon further inspection, included most of the things that you had requested. Not including your phone. You wondered whether it was taken by whoever had trashed your place or if the Bats had taken it as some sort of crime scene evidence. You sighed and started pulling things out of the bags and taking stock of what was there. It wasn’t long before there was a quiet knock at the door and you looked up to see Bruce standing in the doorway.

“Do you have everything? Dick and Tim told me about your apartment. If you need anything replaced…”

You tried your best not to think of this as talking directly to Batman, but it probably failed as you got flustered and said, “No! I mean, yes. I don’t see my phone in here. Or my… crap, my laptop. It had all of my… school applications on it.” You hesitated, knowing that worrying about your school applications when you had almost died was kind of silly.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Bruce said, frowning a little bit. There was a brief silence.

“How is Jason?” Bruce asked, sounding like he was the one that was hesitant.

“Jason?” you asked, mostly to give you some time to think. “He’s okay. I think. Just taking things one step at a time. From what it sounds like, things have been a real mess for him, but I think he’s coming out the other end.” Bruce nodded, looking contemplative.

You chuckled to yourself quietly. “You know, I was really worried, at the beginning, that this would be something that he just thought he wanted, not something that he actually did. But I think he’s serious about it. Serious about wanting to be there for James. Not wanting to be like his father.” You had no idea why you were saying all this.

Bruce nodded. “Jason was always the most compassionate.”

“Well, he had to learn it from somewhere,” you said, smiling up at Bruce. Bruce looked a little shocked, but you continued. “Seriously, I can’t believe that he had something like this and he never told me. I would’ve made him come back here sooner if I had known.”

“We haven’t always been on the best of terms…” Bruce said, looking a little regretful.

“I think that he’s forgiven you more than you think. He can be stubborn, but you were the person that he went to when he needed help,” you said, not entirely sure if that was true or not, but you were reasonably certain, from all of the time that you had spent with Jason so far.

“Well,” Bruce said, giving you a small smile, “we do everything we can for our kids.”

You dropped your head and focused on smoothing out some of James’ folded clothes. “Yeah, we should. But I know that if we had gone to my parents, their response would have been the same as the day that they kicked me out. So, you have that going for you at least.”

A hand on your shoulder had you looking up and straight into the face of Bruce Wayne.

“You and James will always have a place here. Always.”

Staying at the manor seemed like you were staying in a different world. In the mornings, you would get up, get yourself and James ready, and then head down to the dining room where Alfred had breakfast waiting for you. He always took food requests from you and James and refused your attempts to help him in the kitchen at all, even just for cleaning. He continued to seem to have some sort of sixth sense as to when you or James needed something and you were seriously starting to wonder whether he could read minds or not.

It was always a gamble as to who was going to be there for breakfast, usually based on what exciting things had happened during their “nighttime activities”. A lot of the time, Tim would rush in, consume an unhealthy amount of coffee, and then rush out to some meeting or other. He was usually back in the evenings, though, and he was a big help when he would proofread your resume and papers for redoing your school applications, despite being younger than you were. He even offered to see what available job posting WE had once, but you politely turned him down, thinking about what Jason would say about that.

Dick was just not an early riser, as you learned. He had taken the week off from work to stay at the manor with you and usually came to join whatever you and James were doing at about 11 or so. Bruce was hit or miss, and when you asked, they all just rolled their eyes and told you that he worked too hard. Whatever that meant.

Damian was always the most consistent, because he had school on the weekdays. He would get up in the mornings and get ready. James had taken to following him like a little duckling when he was around, a fact that you and Dick found adorable. Dick (or someone) must’ve spoken with him, because after the first day, Damian had been very mindful about how he interacted with the younger kid. He was by no means outwardly friendly, like Dick, but he at least didn’t say anything too harsh, and it seemed like he had warmed up to you too, if just a bit.

The early afternoons to evenings was the time where most of the people were around, and Dick made sure to gather everyone available together for at least something every day, whether it be a game or a movie or swimming in the pool (they had three). Dick and Tim had also gotten James a mountain of presents on the first day and, after explaining to him the merits of limiting and cycling toys, they played with those constantly. Even Bruce and Tim joined in. You thought that Dick might have coerced them somehow, but they seemed like they were having fun.

One thing that you did notice, though, was that there was never really a time when you were alone. Someone was always around, and you weren’t sure whether you should find that comforting, or creepy. It seemed planned, and that kept you on edge, like they were waiting for an attack or something. Or maybe they just didn’t trust you or James not to… break something? Run away? Either way, you were content to wait for Jason and make sure that you didn’t cause too much of a problem for his family. Even you had to admit that what was starting to feel like a break from reality was actually kind of nice, for the moment.

Bruce had gotten you the latest model of WE laptop, one that you suspected was so advanced that it was yet to be released, and a similarly fancy phone. You spent a whole evening one night on the phone with your friends, coming up with some sort of last minute vacation that Jason had planned and taken you on. They were not too pleased at the lack of warning and communication for the first few days, but seemed to relax a little bit when you told them that you were with Jason’s family, though you didn’t mention exactly who they were.

A couple of days into your stay, as you and James finally started to settle, James interrupted you while you were sitting by one of the many, ornate fireplaces, reading.

“Mommy, Dami says that I can meet a cow! Uncle Dick says that you have to come too. Come on, come on come on,” the little boy said while grabbing onto your hand and tugging as hard as he could. You sighed and marked your place in the book and stood up, not even seriously surprised that they somehow had a cow on the property.

The other day, James had walked into the room awkwardly carrying a rather disgruntled looking cat that was about half his size. He had apparently found it wandering around in a separate bedroom. You gave the cat credit for how patient it was with the child as James put it down and caught it again when it tried to get away. It ended up biting him once when James grabbed its tail too hard, and the resulting wailing had brought Dick and Damian over to investigate.

Damian, upon learning what had happened, got a pinched look on his face that had you worried for half a second before he sat James down, and gave him a long lecture about animal care, giving space, and being gentle. You and Dick had looked at eachother, surprised and amused by how serious Damian was being as a teacher and how James would hang on his every word.

Under Damian’s instruction, James had apparently found the cat, named Alfred for some reason, and had managed to pet it and feed it treats until the cat had purred, a fact that James had gleefully reported to you after it had happened.

Next up was the dog. Damian also took a lot of care preparing James for meeting Titus, making sure that he wouldn’t grab his ears or tail. It was still a bit scary watching your toddler hesitantly meet a Great Dane that was about twice his size, but Dick assured you that he was very highly trained and the whole meeting had turned into giggles as the dog had excitedly licked the little boy’s face, tail wagging. You had to tell James about a hundred times that, no, he could not ride the dog.

The turkey came as a bit of a surprise. You hadn’t actually believed that they had a turkey in the yard until you were watching the animal eat grain out of James’ hand while the boy was watching it with wide eyes. That was when you had outright asked Bruce exactly how many animals Damian had collected and the man had just sighed and told you “too many” before turning and walking back in the direction of the manor.

Apparently the cow lived down in the Bat Cave and was called BatCow. You learned these facts as James was dragging you down the hallway towards Bruce’s study. You hadn’t been back down to the cave since the first night that you had arrived there, and you had to admit that you were a bit curious about what was actually in there so you followed Damian and James down the stairs without much comment.

The cave was exactly as you remembered it in your hazy, tired mind. You remembered that James had been asleep, so the boy was positively bouncing down the stairs, his head on a swivel as he tried to look at everything. When you finished the descent, you saw Bruce, Tim, and Dick all gathered around the computer, looking intently at something on the screen that you couldn’t make out. After a few moments, Dick peeled off and joined Damian and James as they walked across the cave to the edge where you assumed the cow lived. You stayed back, trusting them to not let James get eaten by a cow.

Wandering around, there were a lot of glass cases that seemed to hold trophies of old battles. There were no plaques like in a museum, so you were left guessing what some of the more mysterious objects were. You figured that if you weren’t supposed to be poking around, that someone would notice and come stop you. The dinosaur seemed bigger than you remember, and the collection of weapons reminded you a little too much of the safehouse that Jason had stuck you in for a night (minus the guns).

You headed in a different direction and saw some glass cases that held the costumes of the Bats. They seemed to look less intimidating without the people in them and you took a moment to study them closely as you walked down the line. The display case at the end of the line caught your attention. It was a Robin costume, but an old one. There were several places in it where it looked to have been hastily repaired, but you wondered why it was still up there, when Damian’s newest Robin costume was already displayed. It looked like there was a plaque under it. You bent down to read it in the harsh display lighting.

Oh.

You looked up at the costume again, your heart sinking, and you found yourself frozen to the spot, no matter how much you wanted to look away. This was the costume that Jason had died in. Why was it still hanging like a memorial to a dead kid, when you had just seen him? It looked so small…

Someone cleared their throat next to you, and it broke you away from your spiraling thoughts. You startled and your head turned around sharply to see that Tim had joined you, staring up at the case with a sad look in his eyes. You straightened up, fixing your eyes on him so that you could avoid looking at the case.

“Why is this here?” you asked, surprised at how shaky and quiet your voice sounded.

“Bruce insists on it,” Tim said, shrugging, but not taking his eyes off it. “He says it’s a reminder. We’ve all tried to get him to take it down, but…”

“Has Jason seen it?”

“Probably not. He hasn’t really been to the cave since…”

You looked at Tim for a moment, knowing that you were staring, but you were trying to gauge his feelings. Jason had told you a bit about his first couple of months back in Gotham and you vaguely knew that something happened between him and Tim. Something violent. But as Tim stared at the costume of the boy that was, there wasn’t any anger or fear in his expression, just something like a sad wistfulness.

“I used to come here a lot when I first started as Robin,” Tim mused, and you just stood still and listened. It sounded like he just wanted to talk. “Losing Jason absolutely wrecked Bruce, probably permanently. Dick was usually out and it was before Damian. It felt like I was the only one that remembered Jason how he was.” You gave Tim a questioning look, and he explained. “I used to follow Batman and Robin around Gotham with my camera when I was a kid. I have so many pictures of Jason in this suit, smiling and fighting crime and making dumb jokes. Yeah, when he came back things were bad… they were bad for a long time, but I’ve started working with him, off and on during the past year. Nobody else here knows about it, but I’ve seen him change. For the first time, I think I can recognize the person that wore this suit again, and I think that you and James have a lot to do with that… I guess what I’m trying to say is… thank you.”

Tim never took his eyes off of the case while he said all of that in a quiet voice. You turned your eyes back toward the suit and tried to see it the way that Tim did. Jason never spoke to you about his time as Robin, so this was enlightening, and something that you knew was very personal for Tim. You hesitantly reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He didn’t draw his hand away, and the two of you spent a long while staring at the memorial.

Exactly three weeks from when you arrived, Jason returned.

You had no idea what had woken you up that night, but you couldn’t sleep and so you quietly extracted yourself from the bed that you and James had been sharing and made your way out of the room and through the hallway. You told yourself that you were going to the kitchen to maybe make yourself some tea, when you heard quiet voices coming from one of the bedrooms. The door was slightly open when you passed by, and you couldn’t help but to glance through it. Your footsteps suddenly stopped when you saw Jason through the doorway. He was talking quietly to Bruce, who had a hand on his son’s shoulder. The expression on Jason’s face was somewhere between annoyed and confused, but he didn’t make any sort of move to get away from Bruce, just murmured something quietly back that you didn’t catch.

Bruce nodded and then turned and walked out the door past you. He also nodded to you, and then proceeded down the hallway and silently disappeared into the night without a word. You stared after him for a second, wondering what exactly had just happened, but then you snapped back at the thought of your soulmate finally returning. You turned and walked through the door.

From what you could see in the dim light, Jason looked thoughtful about the previous encounter. He also looked dead on his feet. You noticed the dark bags that circled his eyes and the way that he swayed slightly while he was standing. It made him look older. When his eyes focused on you, they noticeably cleared a little bit as he looked you up and down like he was making sure that you were alright.

“What are you doing up?” he whispered, obviously not wanting to break the blanket of silence that draped over the manor.

“I dunno… I was just– wait, if you’re here then you caught whoever was after us?”

Jason nodded and you stepped closer, saying, “Well, what are you doing up, then?” To make sure that he was real and this wasn’t some sort of weird dream, you put your hand up and gently ran it across his cheek, where you noticed a dark bruise was nearly healed. Realizing what you were doing a second later, you started to take your hand away, embarrassed, but he leaned into the touch. Then suddenly your vision went completely black as he wrapped his arms around your middle and buried his face in your hair. You let out a surprised squeak, but then relaxed into the hug. He hummed in contentment.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured into your hair. You were reminded about the last time that you had seen him and he had hugged you, but instead of being delicate, this time he was leaning a lot more of his weight on you and you made sure to hold him up. You wondered when the last time he had slept was.

“It’s okay,” you said, all thoughts of chewing him out leaving your mind for the moment. That could wait for later. Except… “But we have a new problem now.”

“What’s that?” Jason asked, sounding as tired as he looked.

“I don’t think that you’ll be able to separate ‘Dickface’ and James ever again,” you said, seriously.

Jason snorted, and then seemed to think about it, and then groaned, tightening his hold around you.

You giggled quietly and then said, “Do you want to go wake him up?”

“Dickface?”

“No, James,” you answered, rolling your eyes.

With a tired groan, Jason pulled himself off of you and then rubbed a hand over his face. “I think I honestly might scare him, looking like this. I’ll just go check in on him.”

You raised your eyebrows at him a bit, mockingly looking him over and then nodded like you agreed with him and turned around to go back down the hallway to your room, all thoughts of tea forgotten as a feeling of stress that you didn’t realize that you were carrying was lifted and you suddenly found yourself to be exhausted. Jason followed you with that silent step that still unnerved you, but you were starting to get used to it after living with Bats for the past three weeks.

When you got to the door, you paused for long enough to turn the knob silently and let yourself in, but when you walked in, you noticed that Jason had stopped at the doorway. You turned around and looked at him questioningly, and he just took a deep breath and slipped into the room, walking up to the bed and gently running a hand through the sleeping boy’s hair. James made a small noise in his sleep, but didn’t wake up. You sat down on the bed on your side that hadn’t yet completely lost the heat of your body and gestured that Jason could do the same on the other side of James. The bed was so big that there was space for the three of you and room to spare.

You watched Jason watch James for a moment, remembering the way that Jason’s face always softened when he looked at his son and a warm, happy, feeling that you were together again after so long had you so content that you didn’t even remember closing your eyes until you were opening them again to the sound of a four-year-old screaming in joy.

“Daddy!” James called, rather loudly. Your eyes shot open and you saw that the sun was just starting to stream through the curtained windows. Looking over, you could see that Jason hadn’t seemed to fare much better than you once he climbed into a bed and he was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, still fully dressed in what he had been wearing when you saw him. He shot you an apologetic glance that you shrugged off before James dove into his arms, causing him to make a pained grunt and catch the toddler awkwardly.

“Hey buddy. Not so loud, I think that you’ve woken up the whole manor,” Jason said as he wrapped his arms around James and squeezed so tight that the little boy giggled and tried to squirm away.

“I have so many things to show you. Uncle Dick and I updated the spaceship, and Grandpa and I built a fort by the pond, and have you met Titus? He’s huge!”

James continued to chatter excitedly about all of the things that they had been up to, and you figured that you’d let them catch up while you got ready for the day, since there was very little chance of James falling back asleep. A quick glance at Jason showed that he hadn’t had nearly enough sleep to make up for how tired he had been, but you were willing to bet that there was no way he was going to separate from James long enough to catch a few more hours of sleep, so you figured that you could at least get him some coffee. Probably some of the insanely strong stuff that Tim preferred.

When you stepped back into the bedroom, drying your hair with a towel, there was no one there. You figured that Jason had probably been convinced to go see something or other by James, so you just finished getting ready and headed down for breakfast where you saw that the entire Wayne family had gathered, minus Jason and James. A rare occurrence. They all turned to look at you as you wandered in and it threw you for a second, but then you realized that they were probably expecting Jason to be with you. You yawned and sat down, ignoring them for a moment in favor of coffee.

Eventually, Dick sighed and asked, “Where’s James?”

“Not sure. Probably with Jason somewhere,” you answered, picking up some fruit for yourself. There was a shocked silence and you looked around, confused. “Didn’t you tell them that he was back?” you asked Bruce.

“Wait, but he stayed? Like, in the manor? All night?” Dick asked before Bruce could answer and you gave him a funny look.

“Yeah? It was really late when he got in and he was exhausted. He stayed with…” you trailed off, realizing that that was probably too much information.

“I’ll find them.” Dick was immediately out of his chair and out the door. The rest of the table looked vaguely shocked, but didn’t make a move to follow him.

“Were you really all expecting him to just, like, grab me and James and disappear into the night?” you said, mostly joking.

They all gave you a look that said exactly that and you just sighed and nibbled on some toast, waiting for Dick to get back. The rest of the room seemed tense in a way that you weren’t sure what to do with.

It didn’t take long for Dick to reappear, with possibly one of the widest smiles on his face that you’d seen yet. You vaguely thought that it was really lucky that Jason chose a weekend to return on, since it wasn’t always that Dick was in town. Following him a few seconds later was Jason, who looked like he was trying very hard to keep an annoyed look off of his face. He was carrying James, who was still chattering about something to his father. Jason slumped into the seat next to you, arranging James comfortably in his lap, and you handed him your cup of coffee wordlessly and poured yourself another. He took it with a grateful look and you noticed that he had at least showered and shaved at some point.

Dick took his seat again on the opposite side of the table and there was a tense silence, broken only by the sound of an excited toddler’s voice as he kept saying everything that had happened in the last couple weeks in a jumbled mess of a story, completely oblivious to the atmosphere in the room.

“James, honey, why don’t you go find the painting that you and Damian did this week and bring it down so that you can show your dad?” you suggested sweetly, interrupting the kid. James agreed eagerly and squirmed off of his dad’s lap and promptly disappeared. In the resulting silence, Jason gave you a betrayed look.

Dick opened his mouth–

“Stop.” Jason commanded, sounding extremely tired. Dick pouted at him and Jason took a huge gulp of coffee before he continued. “Whatever you’re going to say, it's going to be stupid.”

“Rude,” Dick said. “I was just going to ask you how something as sweet as James came from someone like you.”

“See,” Jason said, glancing at you for confirmation. “Stupid.”

“We were all thinking it, Little Wing,” Dick said with a wink. “It’s clear that James mostly takes after Y/N. I’d be wondering if he was even yours if the kid didn’t look exactly like you.”

Jason groaned. “And this is why I don’t ‘do family breakfast’,” he complained.

“No, the reason that you don’t do family breakfast is because you didn’t tell me you had a family until someone was shooting at your four-year-old and you left us here for three weeks,” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. Jason narrowed his eyes at you for a moment, but then seemed to correctly realize that he deserved it and that everyone here was probably going to be ganging up on him.

“As I was saying last night,” Bruce said, probably eager to change the subject to something more amicable, “it might be a good idea for the three of you to stay here permanently, so that nothing like this happens again.”

“No thank you,” you said, just as Jason said, “No way.” The two of you shared another glance before you continued.

“It’s been really lovely staying here, Bruce, but I don’t think that we could live here permanently. I have my own stuff to get back to and with James starting school soon I don’t think that–”

“But we can still see James, right?” Dick said, looking like he couldn’t stop himself from interrupting. From across the table, you could see the sight of Damian perking up at the question, too.

“Of course,” you said, shooting a hard look at Jason that left no room for argument. He huffed, but didn’t say anything. “We can schedule some time for later, but now, if we have the ‘all-clear’…” you looked again at Jason and he nodded with a sharp smile that you didn’t want to interpret, “then I think it’d be best if we packed up.” Jason looked relieved at your words.

“As it will take some time to gather everything from across the manor, and find a suitable place to live in, might I suggest that you rest here for just a few days more? That way the young Master James can also say his goodbyes,” Alfred’s voice came from the doorway, where he was drying his hands off with a towel.

“Sure. It’s good to see you, Alfie,” Jason agreed before you could answer, surprising you at the warmth in his voice. You made a mental note that Jason obviously had a soft spot for the old butler. And, well, who didn’t?

“And you as well, my dear boy,” Alfred said with a matching warm smile on his face as he turned back to the kitchen. “I’ll prepare your old favorite for dinner tonight.”

SIX MONTHS LATER

The party is a nice one, even by Bruce Wayne’s standards. It’s a new annual gala for the support of under-privileged children in elementary school, which James would be entering in just a few months. Bruce couldn’t quire help but preen at the sight of all of his boys chatting in the ballroom without a single weapon in sight. He made his way toward them. They’d come a long way from the broken family that they had been. And they were growing, he reminded himself, catching sight of James in Y/N’s arms, mingling across the room.

Having Y/N show up out of nowhere had been quite the shock to their family. Becoming a Grandfather had been something that Bruce had not been quite ready for when it had been sprung upon him in that alleyway half a year ago, but he’d be a liar if he said that it hadn’t been one of his sources of joy ever since that day. The thought of his sons making lives and families of their own wasn’t something that he had thought about often, but seeing the pure joy that it had brought to his mostly troubled son had certainly made its mark on his heart.

His four sons smiled up at him when he joined their group and he was about to ask them where the fire was, when he felt a small hand tug at his pants.

“Grandpa!” the small voice said, and Bruce wasted no time in lifting his grandson into his arms. He was a little big to be picking up all the time, but Bruce had missed all of the times when he wasn’t, so he would hold on to this as long as possible.

“What’s up, buddy?” Bruce said, ignoring the half-hearted glare that Jason gave him for not being the one that James went to. He’d take all of the favorite grandpa phase that he could get.

“What’s a ‘hore’,” James asked, in the most innocent voice. That caught everyone’s attention as all of the other Wayne men snapped their attention to the boy.

“Where’d you hear that word?” Bruce asked, maybe a little too sharply.

James ducked his head, like he was in trouble, and then pointed across the room. “Grandma said it to mommy.”

Bruce looked over in that direction, where he had previously seen Y/N mingling with a man and a woman in the crowd. Now that he was looking more closely, though, he could see the resemblance in the frames of the two women, and in the noses of Y/N and the man. He could also see the tension in the usually relaxed Y/N. In the way that he could see her knuckles turning white on the champagne glass, even as she held a rather forced smile.

“Fucking hell–” Jason said, starting forward, an absolutely murderous look on his face. By now, the whole family had heard the story of Y/N’s parents abandoning her and James. Bruce stepped in front of Jason and handed James off to his son, who took him as if out of instinct.

“I’ll handle this,” Bruce said brusquely, and left, not giving Jason time to argue. All four boys saw the sharp grin on his face and that told them that Batman was going to be dealing with this, and that he was going to enjoy it.

Bruce walked over to the trio, placing himself firmly behind Y/N and cementing his face firmly in the Brucie persona that came so easily to him after many years of practice.

“--can turn into an opportunity for us–” the woman continued, but Bruce cut her off, startling Y/N so much that she jumped, almost spilling what little champagne was left in her glass.

“Y/N, I think that James was asking after you,” Bruce said, sounding nothing but lethally sunny, and placing his hand over hers to smoothly take the champagne glass out of her shaking one.

“Oh?” she said, obviously shaken at his sudden appearance. She glanced behind Bruce in James’ direction, where he’s sure that she saw a group of furious looking Bats. She stiffened further, but Bruce continued, just as smooth.

“This must be your parents? It’s wonderful to meet you two! Y/N has talked about you.”

Y/N stiffened further, but her parents seemed to recover from the shock and then introduced themselves just as smoothly as Bruce, in that way that Bruce was all too familiar that meant they wanted something from him.

“Well met, Mr. Wayne. It seems that we might have similar interests. We look forward to working with you in the future for our mutual benefit,” Y/N’s father said, and Bruce kept his smile bright.

“No, I don’t think that we do have similar interests,” Bruce said, smile or politeness not dropping from his tone.

“Yes, of course, we–” Y/N’s father stopped talking when he fully registered the words that had come out of Bruce’s mouth. Bruce continued.

“My interests, primarily, have to do with the well-being of my family. Seeing how you value your commitments and obligations so lowly, I don’t think that you have any business here.”

Y/N looked up at Bruce, mouth hanging open in shock, but Bruce ignored her, putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing reassuringly.

“I’m not sure what you–,” her mother began, but Bruce once again cut them off.

“I’ll speak plainly then,” he said, bluntly. “Your choice to abandon your daughter and grandson in their time of need sickens me. You have no place here at a fundraiser for children and I will ask you to leave immediately.” His harsh words started to draw the attention of the people around them as her parents turned more and more red with rage and embarrassment. Bruce continued, “And I know I would be absolutely proud to count Y/N as my daughter; she’s grown to be an amazingly caring person and an even better mother, despite coming from such a soulless family.”

Your parents stuttered for half a second, trying to figure out what to say for a second, before turning around and fleeing the party without another word. You turned to Bruce, trying to save your fancy makeup from the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes at his kind words. He saved you from too much embarrassment by sweeping you up into a hug, something that he had never done so far. You clung to the front of his suit, grateful that no one else could see the tears spill from out of your eyes as you tried to get yourself under control again.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his chest.

“I meant every word,” Bruce said, rubbing comforting circles into your back.

When you could bring yourself to come up for air out of Bruce’s bear hug, you looked past all of the people who were trying not to stare, over to where the rest of your new family was. Dick was holding James now, and it seemed like they were locked in some sort of conversation. Tim and Damian were still staring at the door where your parents had disappeared. You got chills as you looked at the clear plans of revenge that were going through their brains. The two of them working together on something was a terrifying thought. Jason was looking at you and Bruce as you embraced, a complex depression on his face, but ultimately with a softer expression than you had ever seen him make at his adopted father.

After that, the party seemed to get a lot better.