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And it all was the God's plan

Summary:

When Catherine fell ill she said "It's a part of God's Plan."

Or

Jason and the god that was never there.

Notes:

This work has all typical Jason Todd tw

It was originally published on tumblr as a rough draft written in pike 10 minuts. It's edited now, so it shouldn't be bad! Or I hope so. I'm not a native speaker.

I wrote it as I saw fited for a child in that situation (homelessness, sick mother yada yada) but also projecting my own expiriences, so if it's something that can offend you, it's your sign to leave.

Work Text:

When Catherine fell ill she said 'It's a part of God's Plan. You don't have to worry about it, sweetheart'.

Jason didn't really understand it then, he was 6, but he knew his mom was strong and smart and she knew everything, so he agreed and went to play with his neighbours.

When the money was tight, she took him to the church and prayed. He knelt beside her, but didn't really know what to do. He knew the Lord's Prayer, but it never felt right. It was hard to belive there was some big guy up there that loved them, and yet made them live in an apartment with mold and non-airthight windows. It just seemd counterproductive. If you love someone, you should want the best for them. Like his mom wanted the best for him. But his mom prayed, and his mom knew best, so he knelt beside her and prayed along.

When Willis got arrested, his mom said that god will help them. She said they should pray, and so they did. Jason thought it was stupid, but didn't say anything.

When Willis went to prison, his mom took him to the church again and told him to pray to god for help. He knelt beside her, but didn't prey. He knew there wasn't anyone there listening to him. And even if there was, he for sure didn't care for them.

When his mom got worse, and her medicine was too expensive and she had to take the other 'medicine', she often sent him to aunty Mei next door. Jason knew what drugs were, and he wasn't stupid. He knew it didn't really help his mom, but so did her prayers and drugs were at least real. And she wasn't in pain so much. That had to be enough.

When his mom was too weak to get up on sunday, it was aunty Mei who took him to the mass instead. He didn't tell his aunty that it was bullshit, because she would get angry and tell his mom, and his mom would be sad, because she still believed. So he went silently and on their way out he picked up a few dollars from the collection. If he had to be there, he would at least get something useful out of it. It was always a little more to their budget - a little less of his mom's worry.

When his mom died, he cursed god out. He screamed, and cried, and sweared, and he hated god, hated the world, hated his dad, hated his mom, hated all his aunties and uncles, and above all, he hated himself. When he was done, he packed up all the money left, his warmest clothes, a few photos he had hidden in his favourite book, soap, all the food that was left, a pack of cigarettes, his dad's old pocketknife, a tire iron and everything that looked like it was worth something so he could sell it. He stuffed it all in a dufflebag and then knocked on aunty Mai's door. He told her that there was something wrong with mom. When she came into their apartment, he took off. She would call 911. He wasn't going to wait on CPS so he could be sold out or packed into some awful foster-home. He was better off alone. He always was.

When he lived on the streets and winter came, he found himself in the church. It was warm, and he could be there a whole hour of the mass. He got all the money from offerings and later bought himself a warm meal. The church wasn't that bad after all.

When he was hiding from some thugs that didn't like him taking their tires, Jason thought 'They shouldn't have left their van alone if they had a problem, with someone taking a chance.' He shared his reflections with them, but they didn't like his argument and tried to attack him. He menaged to run away and was hiding behind a dumpster. They were close. He could hear them, and he was scared because he couldn't do it alone and injured. And he remembered his mom, who always believed even if nothing was alright. He started to pray. They didn't find him. The next time he was hiding and started to pray, they did find him and beat him black and blue. Jason, once again, got reminded of why he could only rely on himself. 

When he met Batman, and then Bruce, and then Batman as Bruce, he was happy. Fate finally smiled at him. He found out Bruce also belived in god, just like his mom, but it wasn't (but also was at the same time? It was confusing) the same one. He didn't tell him that it was bullshit because he wasn't stupid, thank you very much, but informed him that he wasn't gonna belive in his god. Bruce said it was alright, and that was it.

When he was laying on that werehouse's floor, watching the numbers fall, he heard Sheila praying. He didn't call her out on that bullshit because honestly, he kinda wanted to pray himself. Only... she prayed to god, and he wanted to pray to Bruce. He knew it would mean jack shit, but it would be nice to believe someone was coming. He didn't pray. Instead he got up and dragged his broken body towards Sheila. He positioned himself so he would take to most of the explosion's blow. It propably wouldn't save her, but he wanted to at least die doing something good. She didn't pay him any mind. She was still praying. When numbers on the display went 3, 2, 1, she was still praying. She died with a prayer on her lips, while he died with the bitter flavor of dissapointment, pain, resignation and hate in his. He never heard the batmobile's engine so close to him. He never heard the broken-hearted scream of a grieving father.

When he woke up in his coffin, six feet under, he thought two things. First, that if god really exists, he must really hate Jason. Second, he also has a sick sense of humor. To be honest, if he wasn't already screaming, maybe he would laugh too.