Archive of Our Own

Jason’s thirteenth birthday is a slow day. Both his parents are home which is rare. His moms eyes are still a little glazed over but she’s mostly there, insisting on cooking something for him. Jason spends the afternoon reading on the couch. His dad is on the phone cussing someone out or something, Jason’s isn’t really paying attention, when the door bell rings. 

Willis answers the door with a snarl that is quickly replaced with fear when Maroni and two other men step into the apartment. The temperature in the room drops. The tension is so thick Jason could choke on it. “You're late again Willis, I told you I wouldn’t tolerate you being late on payments another time.” Manori tells his father with a predatory gaze. 

His father stumbles over his words. Spewing desperate excuses and false promises. When it seems he won’t be able to talk his way out this time his eyes catch on Jason. Instantly Jason knows this won’t end well for him.

Next thing Jason knows Willis has a harsh grip on his arm as he drags Jason over to the men. “Him to settle the debt. You are always in need of young blood.” Willis bargains. His willingness to sell Jason out, the cowardice, makes hate burn in Jason. He snarls at his father. 

Maroni huffs a laugh before nodding at the man to his right. Quick as lightning he steps forward and shoots. The sound is so loud Jason flinches away. Willis' grip goes limp, falling away as his body hits the floor. Cathrine screams, knowing what comes next Jason closes his eyes as a second gun shot rings out.

“The kid too boss?” One of the men asks and Jason eyes snap open, turning to Maroni. Jason holds his chin high and meets his stare. Maroni looks at Jason for a long hard moment before grabbing Jason’s face, turning it towards his parents. “What do you think, kid?” His fingers dig into the skin of his cheeks so hard it’s almost painful. Still Jason stares at the blood leaking out of his fathers head and he understands what’s at stake. What he is being asked.

So Jason looks Maroni firmly in the eye when he says, “I think they were idiots.” Jason recognizes a test when he sees one. He saw his father fail again and again. Jason won’t.

Maroni stares at him with interested eyes. “Why?” 

Because they thought there was a way out. Because they dreamt once. Because they thought one day they wouldn’t get fucked over.

“Because they were selfish in all the wrong ways. Their word didn’t mean shit. They couldn’t see the bigger picture.” Jason says instead 

A slow smile makes its way onto Maroni's face.“Very good.”

With that smile Jason knows he just won the right to live another day. He also knows his life is no longer his.

…

The social worker was a ball of nerves. Her eyes darted around the hall anxiously. She offered Jason what he thinks is supposed to be a comforting smile but turned out more like a grimace.

Finally the door cracked open. Revealing just enough of a woman's agitated face. When the other woman's eyes fell on the social worker she heaved a sigh and opened the door a bit wider while still blocking the entrance to the apartment. “What is it this time Amanda?”

“Slone. I know you don’t take kids anymore but I need a favor.”

The women, Slone, eyes flickered to Jason in a quiet assessment before turing back the social worker.  “Come in.”

…

His new foster parent’s name is Slone Trina. She is a thin woman in her 50s with graying hair, sharp brown eyes and a no bullshit attitude. She is also the reason Jason is not on the streets. 

The first few days with Mrs. Trina are quiet.They move around each other both silently trying to figure the other one out. 

Jason is cautious. He’s run away from the past two foster homes. He knows not to hope for this one to be different.

The first one Jason was placed with a younger couple. They liked to hit Jason. He knows how to take a hit but what they didn’t anticipate is that Jason hits back. Hard. He broke his foster fathers nose. His wife was so hysterical that she called the cops on Jason. He was put in a different home not much later.

The second home was with an older single man that had taken on a number of kids in the past. In theory that should’ve boded well for Jason. But Jason could see his leering gaze. He didn’t do anything for weeks but Jason watched him cautiously. One night he came into Jason’s room and Jason knew what was going to happen if he didn’t get out. He was a large man. He could overpower Jason easily. So Jason did the only thing he could think of. He ran. Jason was always quick. He had a knack for getting out of situations. It’s why Maroni made him a drug runner.  Jason took off. Backpack in hand, narrowly missing getting grabbed by his foster parent.

Jason made his way into the cold November night and never looked back. He hid where he could and it was so goddamn cold but he had school to keep him warm and feed and Maroni’s base to loiter in when the elements were particularly harsh on the weekends. 

His teacher Mr. Bullock is the one that figured Jason out. He always kept a watchful eye on Jason. So when he started nodding off in class. Got too thin, Mr. Bullock saw it. He held Jason back after class one day. That’s how Jason came face to face with the social worker Amanda Groscz, a woman that asked too many questions and saw through all of Jason’s bullshit. So Jason told her the truth. Watched her lips pull into a thin line and the next thing he knows she tells him she’s bringing him somewhere safe. 

Mrs Trina isn’t bad. She isn’t very chatty. They mostly exist around each other. In fact other than the first general questions about this health and his intro to the apartment they don’t speak. They eat the meals she makes in the same room, move around each other but that’s it. Jason doesn’t mind it. He does his work for Maroni when she leaves for work. It’s easy. He could get used to it. 

Mrs. Trina breaks the status quo just after a week of Jason living with her. She takes a seat across from him when he is doing homework and regards him with sharp eyes. “You’re running drugs?” She asks Jason bluntly. The directness startles Jason so much he stumbles for an answer.

“I-“ 

“Don’t lie to me boy.” She says sharply and Jason can feel the warning deep in his bones. He gets the distinct impression that Mrs. Trina is not someone you cross. 

“Yes ma’am.” Jason concedes. Mrs. Trina eyes narrow and she raises a finger in his direction.

“You listen closely and you listen well. I know exactly what brought you here and what happened to your parents.” Jason briseled at the mention of them but she pushes on.  “Maroni is a dangerous man. Don’t you dare cross him.” She warns absently he wonders if she works for him. “However you don’t bring that shit into my home. And I swear if I ever catch you high.” The threat is clear but Jason can’t help the breath of relief he lets out at the demand because while Jason knows he never wants to get on her bad side, the way she looks at Jason is something akin to care.

“I understand. It won’t happen.”

“Good.” She says with a nod. Then in a more conversational tone she asks, “How do you feel about spaghetti for dinner?” A small smile makes his way on to his face as he nods. Mrs. Trina returns the smile and gets to work.

…

Mrs Trina is a nurse. Jason doesn’t know how she does it. The things she sees, the people that come in. It’s terrible. Haunting. 

She would come home sometimes so tired. 

Jason learned early on that she didn’t do her job because she loved or even liked it. She did it because she cared so deeply about people. She was filled with empathy. More than she knew what to do with. 

It was a feeling Jason knew all too well. Sometimes Jason thinks he cares so much, has so much love in him that he could choke on it. 

No one likes to be around dying people. People avoid the poor, the desolate, the lonely. Mrs Trina didn’t. She gave everyone the same steady care. 

“How do you do it? How can you stand people dying around you everyday? Not being able to save them.” Jason asks one day when they are watching the news. A joker attack happened on Bleake island, the devastation is horrific.

Her eyes never leave the tv, they are fixed on the victims. Only after she lights the cigarette and takes a long drag does she answer. To Jason her response alters something in how he views the world.

 “Sometimes it’s not about saving people, sometimes it’s just about making sure someone doesn’t die alone.”

…

Despite some of the checked out teachers and sneering students Jason liked school. Loved it even. It was a safe place of sorts. He had to deal with terrifying situations every day. But here, in these walls, Jason’s biggest worry was his history test 6th period. 

Homework was easy. Jason blew through it. Sometimes Jason would crave more. He would find extra exercise. He would read all the additional recommended reading he could. 

One such night Mrs. Trina was home. Jason could feel her eyes on him. It burned. Usually Jason would meet the stare head on. With bite and a snarl. Refusing to back down, show weakness. This was different. Jason felt caught, doing what he didn’t know but it made shame creep up his spine. Jason turned in on himself afraid to be seen for what he really is.

He thinks Mrs. Trina must be able to see his shame because she takes a seat cross from him, and looks at the book he’s reading with careful pondering. “If you like Wilde you may enjoy his short stories.” She tells him passively. Jason’s head snaps up at the suggestion. He opens his mouth to say, he doesn’t know: thank you, why, something, anything. But instead he ends up opening and closing his mouth like a fish. “The library has a classics collection.” She adds with a considering look at the book. “Do you have a library card Jason?”  She asks bluntly and Jason snaps his mouth closed, shaking his head no. “I have Saturday off. We’ll go then.” Mrs. Trina tells him matter of factly before standing up, making her way across the apartment to smoke a cigarette out the kitchen window. Leaving Jason at the table still reeling.

…

They are at a second hand store looking for new spring clothes because Mrs. Trina realized just how little Jason had and was immediately offended on his behalf. She stressed the importance of having more things that fit well and he looks nice in. ‘Broke doesn’t mean poorly dressed’, she insisted.

Mrs. Trina holds the shirt up against Jason's chest. Scrutinizing it before handing it to him.

“Try this one on. You’ll be able to grow into it.” Jason takes the shirt but he doesn’t look at it, instead eyes get caught on the news story. Batman. 

Mrs Trina scoffs once she sees what has caught his attention.“That Batman is bad news.” 

Jason shrugs. He thinks it’s nice that there is someone out there looking out for them. Someone that thinks Gotham is worthy of protecting. “At least he’s trying to help.” Jason tells her.

Mrs. Trina is not convinced. “He’s inviting chaos. The city has changed since he started showing up. It’s been getting more violent.” 

Jason doesn’t have a response to that. Batman has been around for years at this point. It’s hard to remember a time without him.“They still have no idea who he is.” Jason says conversationally, eyes still fixed on the T.V. Mrs. Trina sighs at that.

“I hope they find out soon. Especially since he’s brought a child into it. He’s going to get that boy killed.”  She has this disgusted face when Robin appears on screen. She turns to Jason with a serious expression.“You see them, you turn the other way. You hear me?” Jason can read the fear in her face. Batman, the rogues, there is no difference to her. They all are bad news. Freaks being near never brings anything good. 

“Yes ma’am.” Jason agrees easily.

Satisfied, she pulls Jason deeper into the store. “Come on, there are some jeans on sale I want to look at.”

…

Sometimes Jason can feel Mrs. Trina trying to piece Jason together. She watches what he does with care and consideration. Rarely does she comment. Jason figures she must get tired of trying to figure him out because one day she just asks. “What are you after Jason?”

The question is so abrupt and direct it catches Jason off guard. “What do you mean?” Jason  inquires cautiously.

“Only a fool would miss the way you are working towards something. You fight for more in the shadows. School, extra studies, how you work for Maroni. It’s all calculated.” She says it so plainly, like someone talking about the weather. Jason however feels like he just got the air punched out of him. He’s never been seen so plainly.  Leave it to Mrs.Trina to pick Jason apart and still push for more. “So what are you after? What is it all for?” The thing about Mrs. Trina though is she doesn’t do bullshit. When she asks a question she genuinely wants to know the answer. It has Jason dropping his guard.

“Better.” Jason tells her firmly. “I want better.” Mrs.Trina's eyes light up at the answer and suddenly the flood gates open. “My mom always wanted to get out. It was one thing that she always talked about, the kind of person she would be if she wasn’t in Gotham. My mom talked about how safe she imagined it felt.  A world where drugs weren’t the only thing that made the pain stop. I have a lot of problems with my mom. Some of them are her fault, some of them not but I always thought that dream of hers was the one thing she got right.” Jason pulls in a shaky breath, gathering himself. He never thought telling the truth would be so hard. “She said the reason she never got out was Gotham had this pull, gravity that anchored you to it. I want to be better than that. I want to be strong enough to fight the gravity. I want to get out. Have a real chance.” It's more of an admission than an answer. Jason held that dream close to his chest. He never thought it would see the light of day. That he would confess so openly but when he looks at Mrs. Trina all he finds is understanding. And maybe, pride.

…

“How is school going?” She questions from the kitchen where she peels potatoes for dinner.

“Good.” Jason tells her honestly.

“And friends?” she prods, causing Jason to narrow his eyes. Not liking where this is going.

“What about them?”

“Do you have any?” She asks without tact and Jason bursts out laughing. 

“Yeah I got friends.” He tells her with a smile, moving next to her to help her peel the potatoes.

“Tell me about them.”

Really that's all the prompting Jason needs before he starts rambling. “Well there is Eddie, he is in my math class and a wiz with computers, Rena, Felix, oh and I just started hanging out with some guys that are really into comics Gerry and Don.”

“That’s nice.” She says offhandly but a small smile plays at the corner of her lips. Jason doesn’t like that expression one bit.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Mrs. Trina says coyly. 

“Lies. You got that look! Spill.” Jason all but demands.

“So…Rena?” She starts and Jason immediately realizes his mistake. He can feel the tips of his ear begin to burn.

“Oh my god no. We are not talking about this.” Jason says frantically and Mrs. Trina laughs openly at the horror on his face.

…

It was the middle of summer and the fan busted. Gotham is miserable in the summer, it’s hot, damp and fucking stinks. Mrs. Trina kicks the fan with obvious annoyance. She mutters something about bills and having to buy a new one. 

Nervously Jason broaches the topic.“Can I try to fix it?” he asks. Mrs. Trina turns to him in surprise.

“What? The fan?” 

Jason shrugs then more confidently nods.“Yeah.” Jason always liked machines. They made sense. He likes to learn how things work. He used to take apart toys and little knick knacks and try to put them back together again when he still lived with his parents. Most things in their apartment were held together with duck tape and a prayer. So fixing something, it made him feel good, made the days a little less hard. When Mrs. Trina glances at him and Jason wonders if she can see that in Jason. She always sees more of Jason than anyone else, in her freaky all knowing way. 

“Why not? It’s not worth shit at the moment away.” She accepted his offer easily, watching him with careful interest as he took the fan apart, fiddled with the pieces until he discovered what was broken and finally put it back together good as new. She didn’t ask Jason how he knew to do it. Instead she told him there were other people in the building that had broken shit that would probably appreciate his help should he want to offer it. That summer, he got many baked goods, spare change and a pinch sore cheek (Mz. Jackson is stronger than she looks) for his trouble. He remembers thinking that was the first time Gotham felt like more than some kind of helpless black hole. That summer he learned what the real Gotham was. It is a place brimming with warmth and filled with kind people.

 It was a good summer. 

…

Jason is reading on the couch when Mrs. Trina comes home. She had an earlier shift today. It’s not even an hour after dark that she shows up. 

“Jason I know you didn’t leave your shoes a mess by the front door.” She calls after the door closes behind her. Jason shoots up, book abandoned, and makes his way to the foyer.

“Sorry ma’ma, I’ll take care of that right now.” He apologizes immediately, starting to put his stuff away properly.

“Yes you will.” Mrs. Trina says with a pleased nod. He glances at her and sees her struggling to take off her coat with his arms full. 

“Can I help you with the bags?”

Gratefully she hands Jason a large, warm plastic bag. “Set this on the table will you?” Jason peaks inside as soon as the bag is in his grasp and lights up.

“It smells good. Is this hot wok!” They rarely do take out and Chinese take out is the best. She even got crab wontons.

“Yes. I can’t be assed to cook or clean tonight." She tells him as she toes off her shoes, setting them on the rack next to the rest of the perfectly lined up shoes. Jason's beams at her. Mrs. Trina returns the smile with a soft one of her own. “Come on. I changed my mind. I want to watch something.” She says ushering Jason to the couch.

“What do you have in mind?”

“There should be a VHS of the twilight zone. Pop that in.”

It became something of a tradition after that. If Mrs. Trina got out early. She would pick up takeout and they would watch episodes of the twilight zone until it was hard for Jason to keep his eyes open.

…

There are some questions that have always plagued Jason. He is always desperate to understand things, people. Why do they do what they do? What led them to this point? 

 “Why did you want to become a foster parent?” Jason asks one night at dinner without tact. Mrs.Trina pauses eating, seemingly debating answering. In the end she does.

“I grew up in the system. I always wish that I would find someone who understood.” She confesses. Jason didn’t know that. There is a lot he doesn’t know about Mrs.Trina but the more he learns the more he gets why she can figure him out so easily. He's not alone in the world. He’s not the first person to live this life, to carry these burdens. 

It makes asking the next  question that much harder but he wants to know. He doesn’t want her to be alone. “You stopped, before me. Fostering I mean. Why?” She could have gotten burnt out by it. Felt too old. There are plenty of reasons she could have stopped but Jason has the feeling something made her stop. 

Mrs. Trina is quiet for a long time before she answers him. When she does its with a far away look. “At the risk of sounding sentimental,  I got my heart broken.”

“What happened?” Jason asks softly, watching her face turn impossibly sad.

“This girl stayed with me. She was a character. Always wore dark clothing, spoke as though she was telling a poem. Would wax on and on about the beauty of the night. She had a good heart though. That much was clear. She was so fucking good.” The way Mrs Trina spoke, full of wistfulness and regret. Jason knew how this story ended.

“There was some city ending event. Natalia got caught in the crossfire. They never found her body, it was like she just disappeared into the night.”

…

Jason's fourteenth birthday is not a day he was looking forward to. The day will be forever intertwined with his parents death. A sick power play by Maroni, Jason's birthday will never be a day for celebration but instead the day he lost both his parents. As much as he had negative feelings about his parents, part of him still missed them, mourned them. There were good days. Day when he felt loved. His day would be in a good mood, his mom would have clear eyes. He had birthdays when they would sing and make cake. 

His parents might not have done the best but they were still his. They were desperate people that didn’t deserve to die.

Jason stared at the clock, watching the minutes pass until it was time to get up for school. He stayed in a little bit longer today. He didn’t want to face today. He wanted it to pass. Jason wanted to close his eyes and it to be tomorrow already.

Fifteen minutes after his first alarm there was a knock at his door. Jason answered with sleep rumpled hair to find Mrs. Trina. His brows furrowed in confusion. She told him that she has the day off and already called in sick for him. Jason just stared at her with a loss for words. She gently instructed him to get dressed and come out to have breakfast. 

Jason did as he was told. Breakfast was simple scrabbled eggs and toast. They ate in relative silence, but the quiet was charged and heavy. Eventually Mrs. Trina broke the silence. 

“Do you want to go to their grave?” She asked. It was the softest he had ever heard her speak. 

“No.” Jason confessed quietly. He doesn't think he could handle it. He doesn’t want to stand staring at their head stones. And selfishly, he doesn’t want to grieve for them today.

Mrs. Trina took his answer at face value. With a nod she gets up, grabbing her purse and keys. “Alright. Let’s go.” She beckons. Wordlessly Jason follows suit. Trailing behind her and the next thing he knows they are on their way out of Gotham. Jason watches the city disappear into the distance. 

They end up at the Jersey Shore. There is a fair, packed with life and color. White, crowded beaches and an endless ocean. Mrs. Trina buys them each a funnel cake and lemon aid that they eat on the beach.

“I fucking hate the sand. It gets everywhere.” Mrs. Trina huffed, lighting a cigarette. Jason couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at corners on his lips. She hates the sand and yet she is still sitting next to him. She hates the sand but she still took him here. She hates the sand and did this for Jason just so he could see the ocean for the first time. See the world outside Gotham. So he could be somewhere without a reminder of his parents.

“I don’t mind it.”

The sea breeze on his face. The hot August sun. It feels like a different world. 

…

When Jason tells Mrs. T he went to negotiate with Maroni earlier today. She smacked him upside the head. Not hard but definitely repermanding. She went on and on about how he was supposed to keep his head down. Not make dumb and impulsive decisions. She asked him why he thought it was a good idea to push the buttons of dangerous men. 

It was the first time Jason’s ever seen her genuinely upset. They went around and around for hours. Jason got what he wanted, their block is safe. 

Mrs. Trina isn’t hearing any of it. She insisted all Jason did was put a target on his back. 

Jason got the deal he wanted. He also got grounded for a month. With the stipulation that he has to update his status constantly when he is out of the house. He has school and his runs and that’s it. Any deviation and she will have his ass.

Jason is still angry when he goes to bed that night. He lies in bed fuming. Jason was doing good! He was helping people, he’d thought she would understand. When he gets up for school the next morning he’s met with the rare sight of Mrs Trina awake and in the kitchen. She’s never up this early. Usually just having finished a night shift and sleeping. She’s doing dishes she must have left last night. There is a plate of eggs next to her untouched. Her back is turned to Jason but she’s obviously heard him come in. She pushes the plate towards him but still doesn’t look at Jason. He comes to stand next to her, not yet taking the plate. He peers over to try and catch her gaze and she won’t meet it but she does break the silence.

“You are a kid Jason. It’s not your responsibility to protect anyone but yourself.” She says so harshly that flinches. At his reaction she takes a deep shuttering breath. 

“Mrs. T-“

“We are regular people Jason. Meer mortals. Things don’t end well for us. Powerful people play games with us to keep themselves amused. They will dangle opportunities in front of our faces and pull the rug out from under you then punish you for falling. That’s the way this works. Back and forth. That’s how they keep people at their beck and call.” She tells him, shaking.

“I know you want to help but Jason you can’t save the world. It’s like an addiction. You help one person then you think you can save everyone and when you can’t it kills a part of you. These impossible highs and all encompassing lows.” She doesn’t look at Jason as she speaks, instead her head is bowed, eyes haunted. Her hands are gripping the side of the counter so hard her knuckles are white. It’s like she’s trying to keep herself together. “I know you think I’m being harsh but Jason you have no idea how cruel this world can really be.”

…

The world proves Mrs. Trina’s point a few months later when Jason witnesses another runner get killed right in front of him for pocketing some of the money for himself. His name was Leo, he lived behind the diner on Kingston boulevard. He was nice, quick witted and utterly alone in the world. 

Jason keeps his head down after that. He evades the cops that want to ask about robberies maronis men pulled off. Does his job and keeps his mouth shut.

At the end of the day Jason comes home to Mrs. Trina, burrowing in the safety she gave him. 

…

The first thing he wants to do when he gets home is plummet face first into bed. Except when he enters the flat it’s to Mrs. Trina making dinner. And well, that’s a warm welcome home if he’s ever seen one. “Hello, Ma’ma.” Jason goes off his shoes and sets his bag next to the coat rack before moving to help her. From that very start Mrs. Trina was adamant that he help with the cooking and cleaning so he had ‘important life skills’.

Honestly he doesn’t mind it. His parents' house growing up was always in shambles. He would sometimes go hungry because his mom would be too high or his dad didn’t make enough money for groceries. With Mrs. Trina the apartment is always clean and there is always food on the table. It was nice. He liked cooking. The practiced ease they fell into while cooking together. Her clear directions and infinite patience when showing him how to cut certain vegetables, or properly hold a knife. 

So Jason slides up next to her and starts breaking down the chicken that was set on the cutting board by the stove top.

“How was school?” She inquires from her spot checking over the rice as soon as he’s next her. 

He just started his sophomore year. It’s his first week but between his deal with Maroni and Mrs. Trina’s late shifts this is the first time he’s really seen her all week.  “Good. They said they are put me in advance placement this year.” He tells her and she lets out a satisfied hum .

“Any classes for engineering?” She asks and Jason can’t help the small smile that makes its way on to his face at the question. 

“No.” He shakes his head regretfully and Mrs. Trina looks annoyed. “But they have math classes that will help and they have community college classes that I can start in the third year.” That is if he stays that long. He hopes he does. He wants to make her proud. Show her that he can pull his weight. “They offer engineering there. Tony also said I can help him in the shop when I’m not running.”

She gives a firm nod like Jason just gave her the right answer. “Try not to tip off the boys that you are doing other jobs. They can be possessive." She warns, talking about Maroni’s men. The gangs don’t like people having an outside source of income. Makes them nervous. Jason knows that. So he is quick to agree. 

“Okay.”

Mrs Trina nods. The kitchen remains silent as they work but Jason can feel her side eyeing him. “Is that what you want to do? Work in the garage your whole life? “ she asks bluntly.

Jason shrugs. “They make decent money.”  He tells her honestly, making up his plate and going to sit down. Besides, it’s better than running drugs for the rest of his life. He knows he’d be good at this. He was always good at machines.

Jason can feel her stare burning into him as he starts eating. “I hear mechanical engineers make more.” She quips before turning to her own plate. Warmth spreads through his chest. 

“I was thinking more about civil engineering. Help communities you know?” Jason offers shyly in response. Her assured tone makes him do something dangerous. It makes him hopes 

Jason likes machines. He understands them. But he also knows systems. He knows just how much the east end needs someone to care. To take the time and build something out of it. If he can get out. Go to college, get a real job. Maybe he can make a real difference. Maybe he can help stop his home from dying. Maybe one day he can return its warmth.

“Good.” A small satisfied smile plays at her lips. 

…

Jason wasn’t with Mrs. Trina for Thanksgiving last year. This year however a family moved in down the hall. They are a young couple with a gaggle of children. When Mrs. Trina proposed they do thanksgiving together because she always cooks too much food and the young mother looks grateful.

Jason got banned from the kitchen almost immediately, sent to the kids table. He was a little offended to be honest. He didn’t even do anything. It didn’t take long to figure out his real role for today. 

He became in charge of all the children. They crawled all over him like he was in a jungle gym. Asking him questions, fighting for his attention. After one particularly egregious comment from a four year old Jason decided enough was enough and held her upside from the ankle. She squealed and giggled. Next thing he knew the rest of the kids were waiting their turn. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason could see their mom sitting at the bar stool with a glass of wine in her hand looking like this is the first break she caught in years. Her husband is a fire fighter. He works long hours, so she doesn’t always get the support she needs. He won’t be able to make it home today until dinner.

Jason is glad they could offer her some reprieve. Be some kind of support. Ease the burden of the world.

The actual dinner was a lovely, loud affair. Full of good food and even better people.

…

Mrs. T worked Christmas. 

But she had Boxing Day off. They didn’t have a tree. Mrs. Trina didn’t see the point in decorations but she did have a collection of Christmas movies on vhs. And she did get Jason a gift. It's a thick brown leather jacket. The jacket is good! Large enough he can wear it for years. And it’s new. He doesn’t know how she had money to pull this off but he is more than grateful.

Jason didn’t have anything to give her in return. But he did spend the whole Christmas Day in Mz. Jackson’s apartment. Helping her cook and decorate. When he told her his delima Mz Jackson insisted they make something for Slone. So when Jason gives her a tin of cookies they made and that there is enough food in the fridge to last until new years Mrs Trina lights up brighter than a christmas tree pulling him in for a gentle hug.

They are watching it’s a wonderful life when the door bell rings. Jason insists he be the one to answer the door and is utterly baffled at the sight in front of him.“Mrs. Groscz?” She is decked out in a terrible christmas sweater and a matching hat. Arms full of boxes.

“Jason invite her in. It’s cold and you are letting out all the warm air.” Mrs. Trina calls from the living room unbothered. Jason opens the door to let her in, taking the boxes as she takes off her coat.

“Amanda. How are you doing?” Mrs Trina greats warmly.

“Better now I’m inside.” Mrs. Groscz says with a wink towards Jason who is still confused as hell.

“What are you doing here?” Jason blurts out, unable to stop himself. Mrs. Groscz just smiles at him.

“I make a point of seeing all my kids during the holidays.” She explains softly and Jason's chest feels warm. “Besides, I brought gifts.” she exclaims, passing one of the boxes Jason is holding to Mrs. Trina who takes it with thinly veiled amusement. Mrs. Groscz takes the rest of the boxes from Jason before handing him one as well. He opens the box carefully to find it a book of poetry and a copy of the outsiders. Jason is speechless. He takes out each book with awe.

“What do you say?” Mrs.Trina nudges him softly. Jason turns to Mrs. Groscz with shining eyes.

“Thank you. So much. This is. Well it’s incredible”

...

“How was the garage?”

“Good!” Jason exclaims, immediately launching into a long story about all the kinds of cars that come in and how he’s actually allowed to work on them. He learned how to change a tire today by the end of his story Jason is nearly out of breath and Mrs. Trina is smiling.

“I better not catch you jacking tires.” She jokes good naturedly. Jason laughed 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

…

Jason walks into the apartment and finds it dark. Even more odd, Mrs. Trina is home, he can see the embers of the cigarette in the darkness. “Mrs. T? Is everything okay?” Jason asks carefully, turning on one of the lights. Now that he can see her better Jason can make out her red glistening eyes. 

“Sit down Jason.” She tells him quietly. Jason obeys. A deep sense of dread sinking in.

“What’s going on? You're freaking me out.” At the question Mrs. Slone takes a deep, shuttering breath like she’s trying to hold herself together. 

“Jason. Amanda Groscz was killed yesterday.” And it’s like the word crashes down around him. There is a ringing in his ears. 

“What?” He asks, voice cracking.He can’t believe it he won’t. Tears start falling down Mrs. Trina’s face.

“It was a targeted hit by the Falconies."

“Why?” Why her, god. 

“Because she was good. She wanted to get people out. This city thrives on taking advantage of the poor and struggling. Any threat to the status quo is dangerous.” Mrs. Trina explains, grabbing Jason’s hands, holding them tightly between her own. “Jason, I'm not telling you to scare you. I’m telling you because you deserve to know. But also so you understand exactly how dangerous it is to be someone so bright. The world will try to snuff you out because it fears not being able to hide in the dark.”

…

The rest of the winter was a bit quieter, colder without Mrs. Groscz.

…

Jason is tired. His day wasn’t supposed to be this long but when he went to drop off the cash to Maroni they wouldn’t let him out. They wouldn’t say why. The whole place went on lockdown and Jason was stuck inside. He hated being there. It made his skin crawl. Angry men with happy fingers and too many guns. Everytime he goes in Jason has to steel himself for the possibility he won’t come out. Every minute that passed where he was trapped in the lock down was like a tightening nose. 

He’s never run home so fast after being let out. The streets were quiet on his way back. Unnaturally so. Gotham was a ghost town. Nothing good happens when a city is silent.

Jason cautiously pushed open the door to the apartment. “Mrs Trina?” He called softly, closing the door behind him. The women rounded the corner quickly at the sound of him. 

“Jason, there you are. You know not to come back this late.” She scolded him. Her tone was harsh but Jason could read the concern in her eyes. She immediately starts checking Jason’s eyes, he’s not entirely sure why but even after she deems him okay she is still impossibly tense. 

He hates that he worried her. She’s good to Jason. She may not be soft and fuzzy but she was real. She cared about Jason. Mrs. Trina is the best foster parent he’s had. Maybe the best parent period. She may be the tough love type but she’s on his side through and through. Jason doesn’t need her to be soft and dotting. He doesn’t want the kind words that were hollow. His mom was like that sometimes. She’d say such kind things , give him hope, then he would come home to find her barely breathing. No eight year old should know what an OD looks like. No kid should blame themselves for their parents failing. Mrs. Trina has made him understand that time and time again.

She makes sure he is well fed. She pushes him to do well in school. To take all the opportunities he can. Let him sit up with her on bad nights. She taught him how to handle a gun and keep his head down. 

“Sorry Ma’ma. Work went over time. The boys won’t let me out.” Jason tells her. 

“They held you inside?” She confirms. Eyes running over him like she’s looking for some proof of residue. What residue Jason doesn’t know but he wants the tightness around her eyes to go away.

“Yeah. Got stuck in the bunker. The whole place locked down.” Mrs. Trina relaxes at the explanation. 

“Good.” She says with a sharp nod. Dead bolting the door behind him. Jason is then ushered further into the apartment, away from the windows.

Jason follows easy but still on edge. “What happened? The streets were a ghost town.” Jason asks once they are seated at the table on the far end of the room. Mrs Trina lights a cigarette, sneering at the question.

“Some freak was gassing the city. People in the streets were screaming, clawing at their eyes and head.”

Jesus.

“It’s good that you missed it.” There was no one left on the streets because it was a literal death sentence. More so than usual. Who gases a street of innocent people. It’s fucked. 

Things are getting worse. He knows Mrs Trina thinks so too. She stares at the window with a quiet contempt. Mouth pulling into a firm line when she moves the cigarette away. “This city is dying. More freaks are popping up everyday. And with them the death toll climbs. Gotham isn’t what it used to be.” She tells Jason. It’s almost conversational the way she talks but there is a dark look in her eyes, a heaviness to her tone. Jason sits up straighter as she talks. He knows this is a lesson. Mrs. Trina doesn’t do musings. Only the cold hard truth.

“When I was kid the worst we had to worry about were gangs. At least with the mobs in you kept your head down and did what you were supposed to, you could make a life, get good money. Have a family. There were rules. If you played your cards right you could get out.” Jason can hear  the bitterness in her tone. The most painful part is that she isn’t wrong. It’s getting harder to leave. It's getting harder to live. Gotham's gravity is getting stronger.

“Death and punishment used to have a purpose. Now with these freaks, all they want to do is cause destruction. The people of the streets are being tortured for fun.” She practically spits the words. 

Mrs. Trina stubs out her cigarette with force before turning to look at Jason. Her gaze is loaded and her words even more so. “Mark my words Jason, before my time is done all that will be left of this city is the rich, the freaks and corpses.”

The words shake something in Jason and his veins fill with bitterness. He wonders sometimes if he was lucky to be taken in under Maroni. It spared him today. It will surely be a kinder death. Catherine hated Gotham, all she wanted to do is leave.“I wouldn’t be surprised if this was hell on earth with the way Gotham's gravity is. Welcome to Gotham, where souls come to die.” Jason mutters bitterly. 

Mrs. Trina turns her gaze to him. Examining him with a long hard stare. Smoke from her cigarettes still clouds the room, giving it a dream-like quality. “Then don’t give in.” She tells him bluntly. Jason turns to her with a weary expression. “I’m serious, this isn’t hell. You want to go against the gravity? Get stronger, smarter. Don’t give into the freaks or the pain. It all passes in the end.” 

Then a bit softer, almost wistful she says. “You got a real chance at getting out, kid. Don’t die here. This place isn’t worth your soul.”

“I’ll try my best Mrs Trina.”

She fixes her piercing eyes on him. “You better.”

…

Jason was shaken awake by Mrs. Trina. His vision is still too blurry to make out the numbers on the clock but he knows it’s late. He doesn’t pay the time much more thought because he’s ushered out of bed and to the couch by Mrs. Trina.

He stills at the sight of burgers and a small cake. He glances at the clock to see its 12:07.

“Happy birthday Jason” she tells him softly. Jason gives her a blinding grin. 

There were no presents. No singing. He didn’t need them. The warmth in her eyes was enough.  

He blew out the candle. For the first time in years he made a wish. It felt childish and naive but things were looking up for once. And fuck it. He wanted to. So the flame went out and he wished.

(Sometimes when he was heavy and aching he wondered if that’s what doomed him. Like he cursed himself that day.)

They don’t do anything special. He sits with her on the couch and they watch reruns of the twilight zone.

He thinks it is the best birthday he’s ever had. 

He just turned 15 and for the first time he’s really alive. 

…

Jason sits in the back of the cop car, cuff digging into the skin of his wrists and all he feels is shame. 

He saved the Batman’s life, he beat the joker and yet he feels so fucking dumb. 

He glances over to where Batman is talking to the commissioner and all he can think is how much he failed Mrs. Trina. He did everything she warned him against and now he will pay the price. He just hopes he didn’t ruin her life alongside his own. 

Jason drops his head back against the seat with a thud. He really hoped he was better. For a moment, he really believed he could go somewhere. 

…

A loud ring echoes through the halls of the manor. Jason makes his Wayne to the front foyer to see Alfred speaking with someone at the door. At the sound of his footsteps the butler turns to him.

“Master Jason it’s for you” he informs politely, taking his leave after Jason nods.

Jason makes his way to the door. To find a weathered looking man in his thirties. He has sad eyes and a box tucked under his arm. He is from the east end, Jason can see that clear as day. “Jason Todd?”

“Yes sir.” He confirms a bit suspiciously. Jason had never seen him before. He knows to be wary of people that seek you out. Especially in a city like Gotham.

At the confirmation however the man takes a shuttering breath and pulls his hat off, holding it against his chest with an impossibly sad expression. “I’m sorry son. Sloane Trina passed away earlier this week.” Jason gasps in a breath like he was shot. “She wanted you to have these.” Jason takes the box from the man numbly.

Jason never saw Mrs. Trina after Batman arrested him. He didn’t want to get her in any trouble. Possession of a weapon and intent to sell was enough for Jason to be taken out of her care and get her blacklisted from fostering. It was fucking unfair. She was the best home he had before Bruce took him in. Good people can be hard to come by and she was so fucking good. Solid. She was safe. He will never forgive the system for how they treated her, for taking him away from her without a second thought.

He did try sending her letters. Letting her know he was okay. That he was in school, that he was getting good grades and his future looked bright. He never got a letter back. He eventually stopped sending them. Figuring that it was better for both of them. When he became Robin would occasionally check that she was okay. Looking at her records, peering in her window. Watch her back like she watched his. Not that it did her any good in the end. 

Jason stared the package with shaking hands. Holding it like it was made of glass. She’s gone and all that’s left of her is between his hands. “Can I ask, How did she go?” Jason tries not to sound too choked up. He must not do a good job because the man looks at him with soft, sad eyes.

“She was a victim of the most recent Firefly attacks.” He and Bruce worked that case. They tracked Firefly throughout the city. Paying no mind to the burning buildings. He remembers on his way back seeing firefighters pull out crying children and charged bodies. He wanted to stop, help them. Do ground work. Bruce insisted the firemen had it under control. Stupidly Jason listened. 

“Oh.” She didn’t deserve to go out that way. She should have died from old age, she should have died with a cigarette in her hand, staring down the barrel of a gun with a smirk even. Not a helpless victim of a freak.

The man shifts looking uncomfortably at Jason’s grief but Jason can’t move. It’s like time stopped. He’s stuck to the carpet in the doorway. Gothams gravity had never felt so heavy. It’s like he’s sinking. 

The man turns to leave but seems to stop himself turning to Jason with passionate eyes. “Slone was so proud of you. She may not have ever said it but she was rooting for you. I’ve never seen her as happy as she was the day she learned you got a grant to that school. She always said potential like yours doesn’t deserve to rot in a place like this. So kid just don’t-“ he cuts himself off as he pulls in a shaky breath. Tears glistening in his eyes.

“I know.” Jason cuts in and he does. “Golden ticket. I’ll do her proud.” He will. Jason promised her he wouldn’t fall victim to this town. He has a real chance. The man gives Jason a small smile at the response. A wave of understanding passes between them.

“Good.” 

“Who was she to you?” Jason can’t help but ask.

“The reason I’m alive. I was her kind once too.” and just like that Jason sees this visit for what is. Two people looking at each other knowing the woman that loved them is gone. The man gives Jason one last nod before walking away into the night.

Jason stands in the threshold of the doorway with a hollow chest and a heavy box. He opens the box and lets out a sad laugh at what’s inside. It’s all his report cards, his letters to her, his old library card, newspaper clippings of his track meets and engineering competitions. 

Jason feels tears down his face. 

He doesn’t say anything to Bruce when he asks who was at the door. Jason goes to his room and hides the box under his bed. 

His reminder of what he’s fighting for.