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The Jason Project

Summary:

Jason had just wanted to see his autopsy report, he had only wanted to know what information Bruce had about his death. And when Bruce hadn't given it to him, he had stolen it. He hadn’t meant to stumble upon the bucket list of a dead child and the footage of a grieving father crossing one item after another off the list.

Notes:

I wrote this in a day because I stayed up late yesterday and had this idea and I just wanted to write this.
Fair warning, this is sad and no comfort until the end. Allusions to Bruce's suicidal tendencies after Jason's death.

(See the end of the work for more notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

The anger was still burning in Jason’s stomach when he was already halfway across the city, far away from the manor and Bruce’s self-righteous, arrogant, condescending fuck-all damning attitude. Green had taken over his vision, and Jason had only started to get back some resemblance of conscious control when Crime Alley had greeted him. He wasn’t clear on what exactly he had said to Bruce once the screaming had started, but Jason also didn’t care. None of his so-called-siblings ever stood up to Bruce’s authority, but Jason wasn’t like them. He didn’t just back down and roll over like a good little soldier when Daddy said ‘no.’

Fuck them.

And fuck Bruce in particular.

Jason had been playing by the rules for months now. He hadn’t killed, hadn’t used excessive force – he hadn’t even antagonized the other kids. And for what? Only to be denied over and over again.

No, Jason, you’re not taking that patrol route. No, you can’t work on that case. No, don’t take your guns. No, you can’t look at the files I collected of your death.

No, I don’t fucking trust you with anything, no matter how hard you try.

The USB drive in his pocket was just another proof that Jason would always be the black sheep – no, he wasn’t even the black sheep. That was probably Steph. In Bruce’s mind, Jason was the wolf in sheep’s clothing, just another threat, a ticking time bomb, for this city.

After all, he was the only one who hadn’t been granted access to the files Bruce had on him. Dick could take a look at what Bruce thought of his golden boy, the Replacement could and even the Demon brat were allowed to see the bi-monthly – or even more often? It wasn’t like Jason had access and could see them – evaluations Bruce wrote on each of them.

The best part of this whole affair was that Jason hadn’t even wanted to see those. He didn’t need a physical reminder of how much of a disappointment he was in Bruce’s eyes.

He had only wanted to see his own autopsy report because Jason needed to know. Talia hadn’t been able to tell him which scars were the Joker’s fault, which ones Jason had earned in his time as Robin and which ones he had already had when Bruce had adopted him.

Jason couldn’t recall those memories himself. Or rather, he couldn’t trust those memories. Often enough Willis Todd’s face morphed into the laughing grimace of the Joker beating down on him again and again, and Jason just wanted to know so his head could stop spinning and his body would start feeling like his own once more.

He got uncomfortable in his body sometimes. Bruce probably had notes on that too. Had seen Jason twitch one too many times too often and written down PTSD, anxiety, dysphoria and a whole lot of other diagnoses.

Fuck him, Jason thought again when he finally arrived at his safe house. Jason had wanted to see only one thing, but now he had gotten every file, every single thought and he’d throw them all in Bruce’s face the next time he saw him. He’d do it right in front of the others too. Who knew, maybe Replacement had some unmentioned thoughts about being replaced himself?

Jason locked the door behind himself and activated his security system. The last thing he needed was anyone barging in when he was in the middle of another existential crisis. The safe house he had chosen to hide away in was his most secure one. State of the art defense and comfortable on the inside, prepped to keep someone on death’s door alive for ages.

Carefully, Jason took the USB out of his pocket and laid it on the table. Then he got out of his uniform and headed for the shower. The water was almost scalding, but Jason preferred it this way. There were days on which temperatures meant nothing to him. He could walk out in shorts in the middle of winter or be wearing four layers in summer. He just didn’t feel the difference. Today wasn’t one of these days, but it was close enough.

When he was done, he got dressed in sweat pants and a hoodie. Soft, warm, and kind on his aching bones.

He skipped dinner.

He hadn’t prepared anything because he’d thought he would be eating at the manor tonight and he was too lazy and too nervous to make himself something now. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to stomach it either.

All that was left to do now was put the damn stick into his laptop.

The USB was cold in his hand, freezing really, and Jason had to force his hand to stay steady. The laptop screen lit up and the files loaded. He hadn’t really expected this many GB to be on him, but Bruce had never been anything but thoroughly.

Jason Peter Todd, the first line read. His birth record was in there, the old one and the original one. His adoption papers, ID and passport and a bunch of other things. Jason wanted to get to the file he was actually here for first. The rest he could still read later on. He had all the time in the world now.

Or at least a week until Alfred talked some sense into Bruce.

Robin, skipped, school reports, skipped, vacation – what the hell was that doing here, skipped.

Ethiopia.

The cursor hovered above the file and Jason wanted to open it, he really did, but then the name of the folder below that caught his interest.

The Jason Project.

What the hell was that?

A 30 step plan to rehabilitate him and make him a good Robin again?

Jason scoffed. He double-clicked on the Ethiopia file. The documents in it were sorted by date, very neatly and labeled to the heavens.

Autopsy report. April 28th. 2am.

It was just one click away. He’d finally know if Bruce had been able to tell how often the Joker had taken the crowbar to Jason’s head, how much it had hurt, how much he had hoped that his Dad would come and save him like he had all the times before?

Jason returned to the overview and opened the file beneath Ethiopia.

He was such a fucking coward. He finally had what he’d wanted to see, and then he couldn’t open it because his heart sped up and his breathing got a little uneven like it always did right before Jason fell into a panic attack?

Well, it had been almost three full weeks since his last one. It was time for a new one.

“Shit,” Jason cursed and closed his eyes.

He could see the flames dancing in front of him, hear that deranged laughter, high pitched and mad.

Okay, alright. He got this.

All the time in the world left for him.

He’d just start with something else first. Losing a few laughs about Bruce’s dumb rehabilitation plan was a good, no, a great idea. He could write one for Bruce right after and mail it to every member of their little family. It was petty, yes, but Jason could do a lot worse, and it was only because this city needed a functioning Batman that he didn’t.

Thus he opened The Jason Project and clicked on the first document. He expected something like a diagram measuring the Red Hood’s aggression to the number of times he messed up, but instead, he came face to face with a video of Bruce.

He looked so young and exhausted.

Bruce looking tired was nothing new, it was sort of his permanent state of mind, though Jason thought he used to be less dead on his feet before Jason had died.

Bruce’s age, however, caught Jason off guard. This video was at least what? Five years old? Maybe even a little more. What was this? Against his better judgment, Jason hit play.

X

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Bruce said. “It was fine. Everything was fine, and then your English teacher called about a project you handed in before- and I just- I don’t know. I don’t even recall what happened after, except hours had passed and I can’t recall a fucking thing-“

X

Jason hit stop. This wasn’t what he had expected. The Bruce on the screen looked like he was going to cry and Jason didn’t have any memories of Bruce ever actually crying in front of him. Though this wasn’t in front of him at all, was it?

So Bruce had recorded himself talking to Jason. Maybe. Was this a video diary? Jason looked over the other files and no, they seemed to be pretty mixed from writing to photos and audios.

He bit his lip until he could taste blood. Should he keep watching?

Hell, why shouldn’t he? These files were in Jason’s folder, he damn straight deserved to watch them.

He clicked on play again and started watching.

X

“Your project was supposed to be about things you looked forward to doing in summer. And you wrote about The List. Our list. All the things you wanted to do someday because I’m ‘stupidly rich and stupidly rich people spoil their children.’“ Bruce swallowed. “I forgot about the list. It was still there where you left it. Pinned against the corkboard above your desk.”

Bruce took a piece of paper out of his pockets.

X

Jason remembered writing that list. It had been days before his first birthday at the manor and he hadn’t expected anything whatsoever. But then Bruce had asked what Jason wanted and he had written a list of the dumbest rich kids gifts he could think of and handed it to Bruce.

And Bruce had taken it seriously. He had seen nothing wrong with taking Jason on vacation to the freaking Caribbean for two weeks. His only concern had been getting someone competent enough to cover his night shifts, and Kate and Babs had gladly volunteered.

It had been the two best weeks of Jason’s life.

On Jason’s birthday, midnight, they had sat on the beach and talked about all the things they really should do someday and as soon as Jason had come home, he had sat down and written it all down.

That had been the birth of The List. And every once in a while Jason and Bruce had picked something from the list and done it.

Those had been the good times. Jason could feel the dread rise in his stomach, but he refused to stop the video. He had decided that he’d go through all of this tonight and he would.

X

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I told Dinah and she said it might help me to do something with it. So I will. I’ll do everything on this list, all the things you wanted to see and- I’ll tell you all about. When the time comes-“

X

When.

When as if it was something sure, something soon, something planned-

X

“-I’ll tell you all about the things you wanted to do so you won’t feel like you missed out. I’m so sorry, Jaylad. I’m sorry, my son. I should have been there. I should have been there for you-“

X

The video cut off.

Jason was frozen in his seat. Something wet rolled over his cheeks and he immediately reached up to wipe the tear away. This wasn’t fair. He hadn’t thought about this, about all the things he had missed out when he was dead and later on when he’d been training.

He hadn’t spent a second thinking about catching up with the rest of the world.

X

Diamond Cats

Nolan Street 134

9am – 6pm M-T

9am – 9pm F-S

Fri 05/15/2014 11:32am

PURCHASE

Donut, sprinkles 1,12$

3x Coffee              10,5$

TOTAL                    11,62$

TIP                          300$

Thanks for supporting a local business!

THANKS FOR THE TIP MR. WAYNE.

COME BACK WHENEVER YOU WANT.

CATS ARE GREAT HUGGERS.

AND WE’LL MAKE SURE THE PRESS DOESN’T

KNOW YOU COME HERE. I’M SORRY FOR

YOUR LOSS.

X

Jason stared at the receipt, unsure what to think of it. He remembered that cat café. He and Bruce had passed it as Batman and Robin on patrol one night after chasing after Catwoman. Jason had joked about going there with Selina someday instead of running after her when it was freezing and raining. Bruce had rolled his eyes at him and said something about going there just with Jason as well, and no begging about taking a cat home.

So was this Bruce collecting proof he’d actually gone out and done something from the List? The rest of these documents would be full with little things like this. Jason’s missed opportunities, Jason’s lost childhood.

He needed something strong if he wanted to make it through the rest of these. Why didn’t he have any drinkable alcohol in this safe house? Or cigarettes. Anything to make this easier.

He continued on, this time greeted by an audio file.

X

“I’m in Hollywood and let me tell you, it’s not as shiny or impressive as everyone makes it out to be. And the food isn’t even nearly as good as Alfred’s. I think the salmon they served at the buffet was closer to its due date than it should be. And the biscuits are super dry. You would have hated it. But breakfast in Hollywood can be crossed off the list I guess.”

X

A postcard from Disneyland, accompanied by a photo of Bruce in Mickey Mouse ears.

X

Another photo of a couple fries and burgers with Gotham harbor in the background.

X

“Do you- do you remember that documentary about the most spectacular libraries? I’d injured my leg and we didn’t go on patrol, but I couldn’t fall asleep so you sat with me. We turned on the TV and they were talking about all these libraries. Your eyes were shining, you looked so stunned like you didn’t believe the manor’s library could be bested still. And then they started talking about the Biblioteca Joanina in Portugal and you- you started jumping up and down on the sofa when they said that bats lived in the library. You wanted to rush down to the Cave and collect some bats for the manor. And- it’s so pretty, Jason. It’s so beautiful and you would have loved it. I can almost see you here right next to me and god- why didn’t I take you here? Why didn’t I take off a week and just took you here?”

X

A postcard from Kyoto and a photo of Bruce dressed in a yukata. Next to him stood Katana, holding an umbrella over them both.

X

Another photo, this one of Bruce dressed as Superman standing in front of a building Jason recognized as one of the orphanages funded by the Wayne foundation. And next to him was Clark Kent in a Batman costume. Jason couldn’t believe he was seeing that correctly. They both seemed to be handing out candy to children.

“It’s Halloween,” the audio file repeated. It was Clark speaking. “He’s doing better, but I wasn’t sure whether going out with children was a good idea, especially since what happened with the-“Clark stopped speaking, and Jason could hear him struggling to find the right words. “What happened. I thought Bruce was going to quit the League after I stopped him, but he hasn’t. Diana and Hal are keeping track of Arkham right now and I’m checking in on Bruce. I don’t know- I don’t know how you usually do these recordings, Bruce. Or if you’ll ever listen to this one here. But we’re here for you.”

X

The next video was of a room Jason would recognize everywhere: the halls of the Globe Theatre. He had begged Alfred and Bruce to take him there when they’d been in London for a weekend once, but they hadn’t had the time.

The room was packed full and the play seemed to only just begin.

“Thank you for coming tonight, Ladies and Gentlemen! This performance is sponsored by an anonymous donator, who only asked us to perform in honor of one Jason Todd…”

X

Jason pushed the laptop off his legs and stumbled into the kitchen. He needed air. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and marched into the direction of the balcony when he stumbled over his discard uniform.

In his attempt to catch his balance, he dropped the glass bottle, which broke as soon as it hit the ground.

“Damn it,” Jason cursed and took a step back only to hiss and jump up.

Blood dripped to the ground.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Jason maneuvered himself away from the glass shards and hobbled to his first aid station. He took out alcohol and bandages and began cleaning the cut on his foot. First, he pulled out all the shards, then he used the alcohol to disinfect the wound. It wouldn’t stop throbbing even after Jason had bandaged it. He took one look at the mess he had made and decided he could clean up another time. Silently counting to ten, Jason leaned back and closed his eyes.

The boy who had died in that warehouse would have loved to know that this was how he had been remembered.

Jason didn’t want to be that child.

He mourned him anyway.

X

Another video, this time no Bruce in sight but a lot of injured animals. Wildlife rehabilitation center could be read on one of the signs in the recording.

X

The sound of classic instruments playing various movie themes. Harry Potter, Titanic, Star Wars – Jason recognized most of them.

X

A stack of DVDs.

X

The camera was focused on Bruce and his desk. A stack of documents was waiting to be signed on the right. A colorful collection of pens and pencils in an ugly handmade ceramic mug. A photo in an overly fancy frame of Bruce, Barbara, Dick and Jason sitting at the living room table playing Monopoly.

“You always complained about the fact that we don’t take photos in uniform, so I collected some. Or rather, picked them up from someone who collected them.”

Bruce smiled a little pained. Then he held up a photo album, pages upon pages filled with photos of Batman and Jason’s Robin. Some of them were blurry, others stunningly clear and pretty.

“Did you ever notice a kid following us, Jay? I didn’t. I didn’t notice a child following us into Gotham’s darkest parts. He could have gotten hurt, and I wouldn’t even have known. His name is Tim by the way. He’s the exact sort of boy you would have befriended instantly. Smart kid, figured out our identities years ago from a simple flip. And- hell, you’d hate his parents. Jack and Janet Drake, our neighbors actually. They leave Tim alone for most of the year, they weren’t even there for his birthday. They have a kid waiting on them, and they don’t appreciate it one bit. I’m sure you’d have a couple more words to say about them that Alfred wouldn’t approve of. Anyway. Do you know you’re his hero? Yesterday- Tim saved me yesterday. I was going to die. I was almost okay with that as well. You’d be so disappointed in me, but I’m so tired, son. Tim took one of your old uniforms and saved me. He did well given that he doesn’t have training. He said Batman needs a Robin and maybe- maybe he is right. But what if I- what if he dies? I can’t let another child die, and this one isn’t even mine. I wish he were, but- Just, please promise me you’re watching over him, Jay. He loves you, and he needs someone and I don’t know if I can be that person.”

X

“This one wasn’t on the list.” The video was shaky. People could be heard and seen rushing around Bruce, most of them speaking Italian. “But I saw them on my way to the meeting and there was this boy- I could have sworn he was you, Jason. He was wearing a hoodie, just as red as your favorite and his hair was black too, if a little longer than you kept yours. Only his eyes were green. I can’t even tell you how glad I am that his eyes were green, because for a moment I thought the new pain killers were also interfering with my other meds. But the point is, I saw these and thought you’d like them.”

The camera moved to show a couple Venetian masks lying on the table. One was black and reminiscent of Batman’s cowl and besides it laid a smaller green one decorated with fake and cheap gemstones. Another mask was shaped like a W, then there was a blue, red and yellow one.

“Justice League masks,” Bruce said. “They are cheap and look ridiculous, but you would have loved them. I think I’ll keep them as a New Years gift for the League.”

X

Jason was woken up by the sound of his doorbell ringing. He had made it through all the documents, fifty they must have been. It had taken all night and Jason felt hollow. Those things had been for a boy that would never get to see them and Jason was painfully aware that they hadn’t been meant for him.

Nevertheless, he had to choke down those feelings for now and deal with whoever had decided to disturb him.

He managed to make his way over to the display screens showing who stood in his entrance without too much hissing. He was ready to shout at whoever wanted something from him to go away, only for the words to get stuck in his throat when he realized who was standing there.

Bruce.

Civilian clothes and all.

Oh no.

No, no, no, nonono.

Jason couldn’t deal with that now. He didn’t want to stare into the eyes of the man he’d seen cry. He couldn’t. Not now.

The doorbell rang again.

And again and again and Jason couldn’t move.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when Bruce’s shoulders sank in defeat and he turned around. He was leaving.

He was leaving Jason behind once more.

Suddenly, it seemed like Jason couldn’t get to the door fast enough. His foot screamed in protest when Jason rushed forward and threw the door open.

Bruce turned around and stared at Jason with wide blue eyes, and Jason didn’t know what to say.

“I still haven’t seen Romeo + Juliet,” Jason blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

Bruce stared at him like he couldn’t understand what was going on in Jason’s head, which was fair because Jason had no idea either, so he just kept on rambling.

“The Leonardo di Caprio movie. We only ever watched these super old black and white Shakespeare movies, but I think we should give this one a shot, right?”

Bruce was still staring and it freaked Jason out. Bruce knew. Of course he knew that Jason had stolen all the files and watched them and bawled like a baby because even death couldn’t teach him that the world was a vicious monster that enjoyed breaking people into pieces until they didn’t know who they used to be.

“Jason-“

“I saw the stupid files,” Jason interrupted him. Better to get this out of the way now before they started shouting again. “The videos about the List and all the things you did, and it’s not fair that I didn’t get to do any of that and that these were the end of me. I- I don’t know. I’m tired, Bruce. I’m really tired of you not listening to me and that everything has to be a fight. We used to be better than this.”

Silence followed Jason’s statement and for a moment he thought he’d finally done it and ruined everything. Not the killing, not the disobedience, this talk would be what finally crossed the line. Jason could see it in Bruce’s face.

“I know,” Bruce replied slowly. “I know and I’m sorry, Jaylad.”

Jason’s brain short-circuited. What?

Bruce didn’t notice Jason zoning out, still stuck on that first sentence and kept talking.

“But I can’t shake off the feeling that every time I take my eyes off you, you’re going to disappear again. Back to Crime Alley or to another country or just somewhere I can’t reach you. So tell me what to do, Jay, because I don’t know.”

This used to be easy. He’d been able to ask everything and get a reply. He hadn’t had to worry about what topics they talked about or what he demanded. Sometimes he hadn’t even needed to voice it. Bruce had already known.

“You could start with trusting me for once,” Jason said. “That’s all I ever wanted. Just getting the same amount of trust as Dick. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Silence followed in which they both mustered the other. Bruce looked older than he was, more exhausted than yesterday as well and he was wearing comfortable clothes, those he only put on at home or if he didn’t want to be recognized outside.

Bruce’s eyes darted away from Jason, taking in the sight behind him. It wasn’t a pretty one. Jason had fallen asleep without cleaning up.

“Are you injured?” Bruce asked.

That must have been the most unsubtle topic change of history.

“There’s glass and blood on the ground,” Bruce continued, diving head-first into detective mode.

Jason took a deep breath and bit on his tongue so that he wouldn’t go right back to where they had started.

“Already bandaged.”

“Oh, okay then.”

Bruce’s words made Jason’s sight flash green for a split-second.

“What? No more inquiries? No interrogation about what I was doing?”

Bruce hesitated, then shook his head. “No, I- I’m supposed to trust you on that.”

Jason could nearly hear the unspoken question mark tagged onto the end of that sentence. This was bound to be the worst conversation on the planet.

“Great. Thanks. So, if that was everything, can you-“

Jason didn’t get to finish as two arms suddenly wrapped around Jason. His first reaction was to fight and get out of that grip, until he realized that it was supposed to be a hug. Alright. Okay. They were hugging now.

“This isn’t going to fix us,” Jason mumbled into the crook of Bruce’s neck.

He didn’t know what hugging Bruce was like. It used to be like holding onto a mountain, or a big tree trunk. Nothing could move Bruce and Jason used to be so small, he had been able to climb on top of him and get carried around the whole house.

He wasn’t that child anymore. That child had died years ago.

“I know,” Bruce said. “But can we stay like this a little longer regardless?”

Jason’s foot hurt from standing so long already, but he didn’t mind. This way he had a little more time to hide his tear track, even though Bruce must be able to tell he was crying from the shaking of his shoulder and the wet spot on his jacket.

Just a bit longer.

Notes:

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