Chapter Text
Jason had once been a beacon of hope.
He believed in good and that good could triumph over any evil. That the magic of Robin and all he represented could do anything.
But life is not kind and death is not merciful, and he quickly learned that evils can only be vanquished by power as equivalent as itself.
Jason always thought it would be Bruce that died first. And he did, for a while, or so they thought. But he came back. Set a precedent of an impermanence of life that gave them too much hope. It was an unhealthy expectation, to think themselves impervious to death herself, and the hope that they could persevere despite the choke of death was foolish.
It happened too slowly to realize until it was too late.
They still don’t know the cause. Nearly half a decade after it had begun and they still don’t know what started it all.
It was a gradual burn of humanity. Something in the air or in the water or in the Earth itself that twisted the mind.
At first, it was people becoming more impatient. Snapping more with quick tempers. Jason hadn’t caught on quite yet at that point, as most others did, thinking that the people dearest to him were getting sick of his shit and finally giving up on hiding their disdain for him.
People started to become irritable. Sometimes enough to start getting violent. But, despite this, it wasn’t unusual. People are ugly, bitter creatures and they lashed out when they don’t get their way. Jason could see it in the people he took down as Red Hood and he could see it in his family whenever he came around, just furthering the canyon of distance between him and them.
After that came the distrust. This hurt Jason the most, his family vocally showing that they don’t trust him. Them, ganging up on him and not allowing him in their lives. Even actively antagonizing him in a way that they hadn’t done since he was putting heads in duffel bags. He thought that things were better. That he, that they, were better.
But he also saw the distrust in Gotham. People who had once trusted Red Hood were suddenly fearful of him. Where there had been open arms from Crime Alley to their protector, there now was hesitance and wariness.
Then came the irrationality. Paranoia. Something that he was oh so familiar with, something that he knew all of the bats battled with. Bruce became insatiable, pouring his hours into his contingency plans. Dick was almost obsessive in his ways of protecting Damian from the world. Tim was on constant edge, terrified of his family and his place in it.
But the true downfall was the rage. Rage fueled by pent up irritation, distrust, and paranoia. Rage that was irrational but made sense to them. Spouses killing spouses, parents killing children, friends killing foes.
The world was a bloodbath and Jason didn’t understand how it started.
And there was no Justice League to save them. They had been consumed by the madness too. It took only one weekend for Bruce to destroy the entirety of the Justice League and Young Justice, suddenly uncaring of his no-kill rule and breaking it mercilessly.
Jason had to put a bullet through Bruce’s brain before he could go any farther.
Jason didn’t let himself cry. He couldn’t. There was no time.
Damian killed Cass. Tim killed Damian. Dick killed Tim. Steph killed Dick. Jason killed Steph.
Jason searched for someone who wasn’t lost to the madness, who had not become a rabid like everyone he knew, and he found himself brought back to the League of Assassins.
Nyssa and Ra’s. The only two other people who were unaffected by the madness.
They knew they were outnumbered. They knew, even with all they could do, that they couldn’t combat a worldwide madness.
People were dying by the second, killing each other in their blind rage, and the population of the world was quickly plummeting at exponential rates.
Many of the people who survived after their killing sprees took their own lives.
Other scoured for more people to kill until they died of starvation or dehydration.
Ra’s got killed by a pack of rabids that they couldn’t save him from.
Nyssa got killed while protecting Jason.
And Jason, he’s… he’s alone.
Jason makes his way back to Gotham, eyes watering from the stench of bodies that litter his city, and goes to the cave.
He goes to the last resort, something he never thought he’d have to use, and something he hadn’t considered until it was too late.
A boom tube.
Jason looks at the long decayed bodies of his family that lie on the floor of a place that had once represented goodness and hope, and he says goodbye to this cruel universe forever.
.-~*~-.
Jason is thrown into a too familiar universe.
It’s early, he realizes. Fifteen years to be exact.
The first thing he does is research.
It’s nearly identical, this universe. Nearly, but not exactly.
Billionaire Bruce Wayne is the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He is Batman. That much Jason can tell.
Dick Grayson was taken in by Bruce Wayne. Batman got a Robin. Dick Grayson… went to a European boarding school? Weird. He’ll have to look into that.
Jason Todd was taken in by Bruce Wayne. Batman got a new Robin. That much is the same.
Tim Drake lives next door to Bruce Wayne. His parents travel a lot. Same.
Justice League? Same.
Teen Titans… new.
Young Justice? Non-existent.
Okay. Big difference there.
So what does that mean for this universe? And what does that mean for Jason?
Jason lies low for a while, not reaching out to the League or Bruce, unsure if what is on paper is true.
The number one rule of multiversal travel is that you know nothing. What you knew does not apply anymore. Anything can be different and you’ll only find out when you find out.
Jason notices that Batman is more brutal than the one from his universe. At least, more brutal than the one he had been before he became rabid.
Robin is everything he doesn't let himself remember being. Joyful. Proud. Looking at Batman like he hangs the moon. Though, beneath the adoration is a twinge of fear.
But Jason also remembers when he was like that, despite the hope and love he had as Robin. He was afraid of the good being taken away. He needed to prove himself to Batman so that he wouldn’t leave him. He needed to be good enough.
Jason knows nothing about this Bruce and this Jason, so he can’t judge what it looks like.
And maybe Jason’s perceptions of emotion have skewed. He hasn’t been around the nuanced sort of emotions of real people in years, only exposed to the gradual downfall of the rabids and being in the company of two assassins who did not let their emotions show.
So Jason isn’t going to judge this Bruce based on the twisted image he has in his blurry memories. And he isn’t going to try and decipher the meaning behind what he interprets as fear.
Because fear is a complicated thing and it doesn’t always mean what you think.
Jason doesn't intend to become Red Hood. Not until he realizes that it's not just his city who needs it, but him too.
He doesn’t go about it the same way he did before, but he’s also a different person now. He’s tired of needless killing. He’s tired of death. He wants to feel that hope again. He wants to be hope again.
Batman tries to confront him. Jason stands his ground and asserts his role.
He’s not very eloquent, he knows this. Jason hasn’t been a man of words in a long time. But he knows what to say to Bruce to make him back off and when he proves that he’s not killing in his city, shows how competent he is, and shows that he is sticking to Crime Alley, Bruce begrudgingly calls a truce.
And so, Red Hood gets to exist in Gotham with heavy suspicion and surveillance from Batman and Jason pretends that everything is normal and fine.
Despite it all, though, he’s… he’s lonely.
He’s been lonely for a long time. Merely surviving than living. He lost his family to the madness long before they went rabid and he lost the only two people he had in the end too.
He doesn’t want to be alone anymore.
But he can’t just barge into this Bruce’s life. He can’t disrupt the tentative family he’s created with his Jason. No, he couldn’t.
Jason thinks about reaching out to Tim or Steph, but he knows that they still have family. Steph is happy where she is and Tim… as much as it pains him to see him living alone in that mansion, he knows that Tim wouldn’t leave his life just yet.
Dick isn’t at a boarding school in Europe and Jason doesn’t know where he is. He’s looked but he’s come up with nothing.
Damian. God, Damian. He wants to save Damian from the League, but planning that will take time. Too much time. But he can’t go in with a half-assed plan. Damian needs to be safe from the League and safe with him.
And Cass? Well. Jason finds Cass by accident.
He’s checking on the ladies on the corner that he used to work, or, where this universe’s Jason may have worked, when he hears a soft whimper in the distance.
Jason apologies before quickly saying goodbye and running to the voice.
Cass is… she’s small. Probably only twelve years old, shivering in a dirty alley next to a dead body and gushing blood from a sword slash in her gut.
Jason knows she won’t understand him so he tries to project as much good intention with his body as possible to get her to trust him and let him help her.
He ends up taking her home, patching her up, and giving her a soft sweater that is basically a dress on her.
Cass doesn’t go. Jason doesn’t want her to.
They end up creating somewhat of a routine. Jason begins to teach her sign language to communicate and shows her that life can be something gentle, kind, and good.
Jason kills David Cain. He bests Shiva in combat to prove that he is worthy of parenting her child.
And Cass… she lives. She gets to discover new food and music and words. She gets hugs and kisses to her forehead and fingers carded through her hair. She gets a collection of squishmallows that are nearly the size of her torso that she hugs to her chest when she sits on the couch and watches the television with Jason.
She learns how to communicate. She learns how to ask for things. She learns how to be her.
And they create something good. Something nice. Something safe and normal and content.
But of course, change is inevitable, and there’s a big change.
.-~*~-.
Red Hood gets to know Renegade because he’s torturing a man in Red Hood’s territory.
The kid — and yes, he’s a kid, no matter how much he denies it — is efficient. And he’s skilled. And a little too familiar.
He’s Slade Wilson’s apprentice (which Jason knows to mean that he has no choice in the matter and is most likely suffering from some sort of stockholm syndrome at best, brainwashing at worst) and he’s terrifyingly apathetic and brutal for someone who can’t be old enough to vote.
He gives Jason a good fight but when he realizes he’s outmatched, he’s quick to start fighting with his words.
The kid’s got a silver tongue, one that is dangerous for someone as lethal as him.
Apparently the kid’s got long term business in Gotham and Jason tells him that he’ll let it get it done if he minimizes the death count.
When he finds out that he’s taking out the rogue gallery, he knows that it’ll skew the power balance in Gotham, but he also knows that it’s also something that is a worthy cause.
Jason ends up helping him, giving him everything he knows about the rogues and their weaknesses.
He learns a lot about Renegade. Learns about the disgusting, unhealthy relationship he has with Slade Wilson. Learns that he’s got daddy issues to rival Jason and a piece of shit dad that Jason knows hurt Renegade. Learns that there’s nothing Jason wouldn’t do to help this kid get out from Slade Wilson and his shit dad so he can heal.
Jason finds out that Slade Wilson’s got probes implanted in Renegade’s friends. Jason spends the 48 hours figuring out how to deactivate them without Slade knowing.
Renegade doesn’t tell Jason who his friends were or how they became enemies of Slade enough to get probes implanted into them or even how Renegade became his apprentice.
He doesn’t have to, because once Renegade tells him his father is Batman, Jason knows.
Because Renegade is Dick Grayson.
Jason thinks it’s only fair to share who he is and Dick is… confused. Unlike Cass who never knew little Jason, Dick knows of him.
Jason guesses that Dick became Slade’s apprentice before he could ever be a big brother to his Jason, though. He’s only seen how he was replaced, something Dick says bitterly that so painfully reminds Jason of himself, and Jason realizes he’s the person Dick needs.
It’s weird, being so much older than Dick. Yeah, it was weird with Cass, but Dick was always his big brother. Now he’s the big brother.
They don't finish up Renegade’s business in Gotham. They didn't get all of the rogues, but Jason knows that it wouldn't do him any good. They deactivate the probes. Jason takes his time chopping off Slade Wilson’s head and cutting him up into tiny little pieces before burning them to ash.
Dick… doesn’t know what to do now that he’s free from Slade’s control. He's, for lack of better words, is totally and utterly fucked up.
He never said how long he was with Slade but Jason can tell that it was too long. He wakes up every night screaming and sobbing and Jason has gotten a knife to the throat trying to calm him down.
He’s withdrawn and he’s angry and he’s too much like Dick before he became rabid that it sometimes scares Jason.
But there are moments when the Dick he knows pops out. The way he lights up when he gets a good bowl of cereal or when he gets to pet a dog or when Jason takes him to the gym and he gets to fly.
Dick doesn’t want to go back to Bruce. Jason doesn’t ask him why and he definitely would never make him.
Things get easier. They get harder before they get easier too.
Dick relapses a lot. He falls into a pit of depression and self hatred and PTSD that feels inescapable.
But Jason is there however he can be. He is there to support him and love him where he hasn’t been in a long time.
Jason helps him heal. And maybe Dick helps him heal too.
Dick is the best big brother to Cass because of course he is. Despite everything he’s going through, he spoils Cass rotten. Cass loves him and can sense how much pain he’s in and she knows exactly what to do to get him out of his head.
They’re good for each other.
They all are.
And they create a little family, somehow.
And Jason knows that this family is going to grow soon, because while he’s had Cass and Dick, he never stopped planning.
And it’s time.
It’s time to get Damian.
.-~*~-.
They go to Nanda Parbat.
They break in pretty easily.
He almost makes it out with Damian.
But, of course, nothing can ever be that easy.
He gets caught by Talia, and he finds himself in a familiar dance of combat with her.
Just as he did with Shiva, he bests her in combat, but Talia isn’t as quick to give up her child to Jason. They compromise. Jason convinces her that the League will only hurt Damian. That it will ruin him. That he will only know pain.
The toddler, only three, is already forced into training, and he’s miserable. He doesn’t understand. He deserves to be a child.
Talia tells him that her father needs an heir.
Jason asks her what she wants for the League.
She says that what she wants doesn’t matter.
He asks her if her father is a man of change or a tyrant mad on power.
She doesn’t have an answer.
Jason tells her that he knows all the ways to kill Ra’s al Ghul for good. That he was told by the man himself in another life. He tells her that he can get rid of him.
Talia tells him to take her child. To protect her boy. And she will tell him if it will one day be necessary.
Jason promises her that she will see him again. See them.
And she believes that he is a man of his word, and she believes him.
Jason, Dick, Cass, and Damian make their way back to Gotham and they quickly realize they need a bigger space to live.
They end up getting a house. It’s not the nicest place but it’s inconspicuous and much more spacious than the apartment they had been living in.
Damian, three years old, is old enough to be confused. He is old enough to be scared. To be distrustful.
Because Damian has only known harshness and pain, and it is their job to teach him the kindness, gentleness, goodness that Jason taught them.
Damian is everything Dick could need.
They have a bond just like Jason’s Dick had had too.
Dick becomes the father to Damian that Jason isn’t. Damian gives Dick a reason to live and to get better. Damian brings the light back into Dick’s life.
Jason doesn’t let Dick do everything for Damian, of course. He’s still a kid and Jason is the adult there. But Jason lets Dick have Damian in the ways that matter.
Cass is excited to be a big sister. She shows Damian how sign and his tiny, chubby little fingers mimic the movements with ease.
Damian still has a love for art. Jason gets him coloring books and sketchbooks, finger paints and crayons and colored pencils. And Damian makes little masterpieces that they hang on the fridge and around the house.
Damian is going to grow up loved. He’s going to grow up without the pressure of being the Demon’s heir or the son of the Bat.
And they are going to make sure it stays that way.
.-~*~-.
Jason never stopped keeping an eye on the him of this world. He knows when his death day is and he had prepared to take care of it when the time came.
What he wasn’t expecting was for Jason Todd to die a year too early.
Jason curses himself, knowing that he broke his first rule of not relying on his original timeline.
But there’s not much he can do now.
It’s a waiting game.
He watches Jason’s grave, waiting for the day he breaks out, if he ever does.
And he does. Catatonic, broken nearly beyond repair, the Jason Todd of this universe begins to wander the streets.
Jason gets him quickly, takes him to the house, and does all he can to help his injuries.
Jay, what he had started calling the young boy, isn’t there mentally. But Jason doesn’t want to believe that his mind has been lost.
He will never let this precious boy get thrown into the Lazarus Pit. He can’t.
So, he researches everything he can about rehabilitation from traumatic brain injuries and mental regression due to trauma.
Jay’s body had irreparable damage. His fingers, shattered by crowbar, now have a constant tremor, unable to grip fully. He’s got a slight wheeze in his breathing from the smoke inhalation at the end of his first life, something temporarily fixed by a couple puffs of his inhaler. He’s got so much chronic pain that he can’t even express but Jason can see by the way his brows pinch when he moves a certain way, something that he tries to help with a lot of gentle massaging, stretches, and CBD cream.
Damian doesn’t fully understand what’s wrong with Jay, but he reads him stories when Jay is sitting and looking out of the window.
Cass hums softly to him while she plays with his hair, something that always gets Jay to relax.
Dick tells him stories, happy stories that rarely involve Bruce. Whatever happened between Dick and Bruce, between Jay and Bruce, it must have not been good.
Jay gains a little bit of recognition everyday. And it’s not easy. It’s actually hard as hell.
Jay is stubborn and tired and confused and he just wants to rest. But the physical therapy and the little lessons they work on together to help him with his cognitive function are helping him, even if he doesn’t feel that way.
Jay will never be Jason, and he doesn’t want him to. Jay will be himself, whoever that is. Jason knows that he will never be the boy he was before, but he has hope that he will heal in his own way and that he will find contentment in the life he has now.
Jason doesn’t know this, but Jay is happy. Jay loves Jason. Jay is happy with Jason.
And one day, he’ll be able to tell him.
.-~*~-.
Tim Drake disappears.
And in another month, Jason finds him ruined by the Joker.
The boy, so bright and intelligent and kind, now with bleached skin and a smile carved into his cheeks, hair bright green and dressed in a purple suit to match the man that broke him. He cackles, a horrible, horrifying sound, and doesn’t have a hint of recognition in his eyes for Jason.
Jason puts a bullet in Joker’s brain, something he should’ve done a long time ago.
Tim’s laughter dissolves into sobs and Jason holds him, trying to get him to breathe before he chokes himself on air.
Jason takes Tim home.
The first thing they do is get him out of the suit, assessing all the damage that the Joker did to him.
Electroshock torture.
Jesus.
They put Tim in fluffy pajama pants and a soft sweatshirt, careful on his bleached skin that is still sensitive and raw. They clean and comb through his terribly matted hair, caked with blood and grime. They give him a bowl of broth to sip at.
And they wait.
When Tim isn’t laughing or crying, he’s utterly silent.
He just lays in bed, staring at the wall with dead eyes, tear tracks staining his face and face pinched in silent pain.
It’s even more of a struggle to get Tim to do basic things like eating and going to the bathroom than it was with Jay.
Jay sits with Tim a lot, playing with his fidget toys or squishing one of Cass’s squishmallows gently.
Jay is the only one that Tim lets stay with him for long without breaking down.
Jason comes in to get Tim to take a bath so he can clean his sheets when Tim meets his eye.
Tim tells him that he wants to die. That he doesn’t want to live anymore.
Jason holds him as he cries and gasps on sobs and chokes on laughter. Tim tells him everything. Tells him everything the Joker did to him. Tells him everything Bruce didn’t do. Tells him how he’s trapped inside his mind and how he doesn’t want to live like this anymore.
Jason tells him that he’ll do whatever he can so Tim doesn’t have to live like that anymore.
And then, they start to make progress.
Tim opens up slowly, not quite manic and lost in his laughter but not the blank and empty husk that he was before.
Tim struggles with his psychosis and the mass amounts of trauma expected from weeks of torture. But he finds solace in the way his siblings relate to his scrambled egg brain.
Tim lets himself pick up the camera again and spends the day taking pictures of everything around the house and taking candids of his siblings when they aren’t looking.
Tim gets to talk to Dick and Jason, the men who had once been his idols.
Tim learns ASL with Cass and she teaches him the magic of baking.
Damian, now five years old, clings to Tim in a way that he never did in the original timeline.
And, despite how unconventional and dysfunctional they are, they’re family.
Somehow, Jason, at thirty years old, is a father of five.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.