Work Text:
He was on duty, in a freaking suit, in daylight.
Jason Todd knew immediately that he was crazy. Maybe even crazier than he was. He thought that was probably a high bar, but the kid had somehow surpassed it.
He was here, though, which Jason supposed was good. He wasn’t really in the mood to stop a robbery.
Jason just wanted to get his milk.
For maybe the first time in the last year, he didn’t want to fight anyone. He just wanted to go home—he was tired.
And besides, it was the week of Christmas. He made cookies to make.
He wasn’t exactly sure where that idea had come from, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good idea—he’d probably remember things halfway through. It would be a disaster, he was sure.
But the waffles at 2 a.m. hadn’t been and maybe Jason would never tell anyone, but he missed feeling like that— that home feeling that he could barely recall.
Also, he just felt like eating cookies.
But, of course, nothing in his life could go right.
He was about to set down his carton of milk, slip around the corner and punch the first dude’s lights out so that he could buy his milk and go home, when the bright yellow, daylight superhero beat him to it.
Signal. That’s what they called him. Duke Thomas.
Dick had mentioned him when he sent him a text a little while back. The Golden Boy had thought for some reason that he wanted a freaking life update on everyone, a digital Christmas card. Jason had read it. He didn’t reply, didn’t talk to him about it. But he’d read it.
It’d been one of those moments—4 in the morning and he couldn’t sleep, wanting for all the world to just be and not think about everything wrong, hungry but not wanting to get out of bed because he was stupid and a coward, but he’d had nightmares. He’d rolled over, reached for his phone, saw the text.
He’d opened it and read it without thinking.
The only valuable knowledge that he’d gained was about the Signal: steer clear of him because the Bat was his boss, too.
So Jason kept his head down, tried to stay out of the way and out of sight as Signal trussed up all three of the men for the Gotham City Police.
It all went smoothly, too, until the police had come and gone and the Signal was still hanging around, checking on people to see if they were alright.
Jason was just about to put his milk back and forget about it when he realized how stupid he acting.
Duke Thomas didn’t know who he was. They’d never met. They’d never had reason to. Being able to recognize him at a random corner store, with his hood up over his head, hiding his obvious shock of white hair.
That was his line of thinking, at least.
Jason Todd could count on one hand the time when he was right about anything regarding the Bats.
He was almost done checking out, just finishing the change out of his pocket— so close —when the Signal came prancing up to the checkout counter.
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure everything’s alright, here,” Signal said, and then froze when his eyes trailed over in Jason’s direction.
This was why he hated going out in public.
People were scared of him. People remembered him. And, mostly importantly, people stared.
Not usually for this reason, though.
“Jason?”
Jason stiffened, tried to hold in an outright sigh, because are you kidding me right now? He found the rest of his change, slid it across the counter. “No receipt,”
The cashier smiled at him, handed him back the milk.
“Wait, Jason Todd?”
Jason pushed past him and then through the glass double doors. Freezing Gotham air hit him in the face and he tugged his hood a little closer.
Footsteps behind him.
“Jason? Hey, wait!”
Jason paused, because his idea of fun was not to call attention to himself in the middle of a Gotham street.
Unless, of course, he was on Red Hood business.
“Hey, I just wanted to—” Signal skidded to a stop, turning to face him. He had a hand held out, like he wanted a handshake. “We haven’t met, officially,”
“What are you doing here?” Jason asked, not turning to shake his hand. He started walking again and Signal huffed and lowered his hand, fell in step with him.
“Slow day,”
“In Gotham?”
“Hey, I could ask you the same question,”
Jason held up his carton of milk in answer.
“Right, well,” Signal actually seemed a little annoyed. “I just wanted to say hi,”
“Consider it done,” Jason snapped, crossing the street. He walked quickly, going in a random direction. He did not want the Bats to know where he lived. The rest of them, anyway. Having Cass know was enough for him.
“What’s your deal, man?”
Jason felt a prick of annoyance. Who was this kid?
“It’s Christmas,” Signal jogged a little, caught up with him after getting held back by traffic. “You know everyone’s been worried sick about you, right?”
Jason ignored that. He had to ignore that.
“Hello?”
Jason whirled around, nearly smashing his nose into Signal’s. The kid didn’t flinch, shifting his weight and cocking his head at Jason.
“What’s your angle?” Jason demanded. “You wanted to say ‘hi’?”
“We haven’t met,” Signal said, like that explained everything.
“No. We haven’t,” Jason said, voice tight. “Nice to meet you. I’m the family screw-up. Usually, though, I’m the one we try to not talk to,”
Signal stared at him for a second and then stepped back, sighing. “Unless, it’s Christmas, right?”
“Are you the new family genius?”
“Hey, that’s not what this is about,” Signal said. “I just thought we should know each other. Two heroes in Gotham, right?”
Jason raised his eyebrows. “You’re new, huh?”
“Been around long enough to know you’re busting drug rings,”
“And people’s heads,”
Signal smirked, shaking his head a little.
“What?” Jason asked, finally oddly irritated.
“Steph was right about that one, then,”
What had she said to him, again? ‘ You’re just trying to scare us off.’?
“It’s not like it isn’t true,” Jason ground out.
“You’re starting to sound desperate. Just say we’re annoying straight out. The killer excuse is getting old.”
“Yeah, I’m sure B thinks so,”
Signals expressions stiffens then, finally . “B is...having a rough time,”
“Oh, the weight of the mantle hangs heavy on his shoulders, huh? Or is it guilt? I would suggest quitting the child soldier gig, then,”
That wasn’t true. Jason didn’t think he’d thought that in his entire life.
He didn’t regret being Robin. He didn’t think that Batman should stop having a Robin.
Yeah, maybe it was crazy. And maybe Batman needed to change some things. And yeah, maybe Robin shouldn’t get the opportunity to throw himself into death’s grasps.
But being Robin had helped him to keep going.
He didn’t know why the words came out, but they did.
Jason Todd did a lot of things that he didn’t mean to, that he shouldn't have.
It was becoming some sort of sick habit.
“Right, yeah,” Signal rubbed the back of his neck, squinted at Jason like he was trying to figure out what exactly was going on in his head. “Look, I just wanted to say hi, wish you a Merry Christmas. I get that you don’t like talking to people. I just thought…” He hesitated, then sighed again, then raised his hand and waved. “Have a good holiday.”
Signal disappeared in the crowd.
Jason stood there for a second, sighing, pushing off his hood and running his fingers through his hair and trying to shake off the guilty feeling that was creeping up his throat.
He waited for a minute—even though he didn’t know what he was waiting for and the condensation from his milk was starting to puddle on the frosty sidewalk—then turned and made his way back home.
He didn’t make cookies that night.
It was freezing outside the morning of the 23rd. Jason didn’t know he was going out at night, on patrols, much less why he was going out in daylight.
He should be home—sleeping or making the freaking cookies that he kept psyching himself out about.
But here he was instead, sitting on the bus stop outside the corner store that he’d bought the milk out a couple of days ago.
He didn’t need a bus and he wasn’t going to get on it.
But he did need to think and he didn’t need to be alone in his house, where all the wrong thoughts were too loud.
So he sat in broad daylight, trying to look like a psycho, just sitting there. He pulled out his phone, eventually, stared at Dick’s old texts. They were about the kids.
Damian, who Jason thought was likely an alien/demon hybrid creation, but sort of, had a good streak. He was changing, Dick had told him, he was getting used to being in a family. Sort of. He reminded Dick of Jason as a kid, apparently, because he had a smart mouth and a temper.
The Replacement. Jason was still getting used to the name Tim, trying to think about him as a kid—a little dork who got flustered way too easily, stayed up way to late and was terrible at hiding his crushes and was maybe smarter than everyone he knew combined. That’s what Dick had told him, anyway.
Cass, who Jason knew already was practically an angel. Everyone loved her, but she was still a little distant. Still a little hesitant. Jason thought that made sense, didn’t blame her. Dick’s idea of being distant was not joining in on 3 minute long group hugs.
Stephanie, who apparently, honestly and entirely, had an obsession with waffles. It wasn’t just a one time thing. She was eating them every time he saw her, Dick swore. She had also joined Dick’s side of the huge ‘Disney is Superior’ debate, which he was going to love her forever for. They were in the process of trying to convince Damian to watch all the Disney classics with them.
There wasn’t very much written about Babs, which Jason was a little disappointed by. He had always thought about Babs as his older sister, but he knew that her and Dick’s relationship had been on and off for one reason or another. Part of him was annoyed by it, he knew that they both worked together almost seamlessly. Babs fit right into the family. The other part of him didn’t know why he cared.
Alfred was next and Jason could barely read what Dick had typed out. He didn’t take any of it in, trying not to think about it, not to think about him.
He skipped over Bruce’s section entirely. Didn’t know why Dick even included it.
There wasn’t really anything that Dick had mentioned about his own life, or how he was doing, but Jason thought that was how Dick was. He was the Golden Boy, and Jason remembered enough about him to know that he was a little too selfless sometimes.
And then there was Duke. Jason saved the paragraph for last, skipping over it and came back because not reading it again only made him feel more guilty.
Duke Thomas was the newest member of the Bat clan that Bruce had slowly accumulated. He wasn’t really adopted, Jason didn’t think, but he was close to all of them. He was quiet, most of the time, but he’d been another one to side with Dick on the Disney crisis and Dick thought he’d warm up to everyone pretty soon. He was patient with Damian, for which Dick was eternally grateful, and he seemed to get along with Stephanie and Tim really well.
Duke was just a quiet, nice kid.
Sort of.
He was also honest and didn't let himself get run over.
That wasn’t in the text. That was Jason’s own observation, because he couldn’t get their meeting out of his head.
He hadn’t been fair with Signal.
Since when has being fair been important? You know what isn’t fair? Having to dig yourself out of your own grave and then being rejected by your family. Being locked up because you were crazy, instead of getting someone to just listen to you . Having some kind of alien Pit juice inside of your brain that made you want to kill people.
That wasn’t fair.
Neither was being a jerk to a random dude who was just trying to wish you a good Christmas.
Jason sighed, ran his hand down his face.
Gotham was a big city. Where the heck was he supposed to find Signal in this mess?
He got lucky, he guessed, because Signal stumbled upon him.
“I thought you were a nighttime sort of dude,” Signal called out to him. He didn’t seem nervous, didn’t seem hesitant to be talking to Jason again, despite how their last conversation had gone.
“Usually,” The Red Hood said, trying to ignore the anxiety rolling around in his stomach.
This was a stupid, stupid idea.
“But I’m only a little early,” Jason finished, shooting a look over at the fading sunset.
“Oh,” Signal was narrowing his eyes at him, moving a little closer. “Well, Gotham’s been strangely quiet this week,”
“Hmm,” Jason said, pretending to think about it. He’d already thought about it— way too much. “I guess we’ll have time introduce ourselves properly, then,”
Duke stared at him for a second. He hesitated, then smiled. “I guess so,”
Jason lost a little more sleep the next day. It was worth it, though.
He made cookies.