fall and fail

{a street rat}

Coming home after a long mission was always something that Dick enjoyed. It was kind of just a huge relief, a weight lifted from his shoulders just by knowing that he had succeeded in living another day. He sometimes wondered if his friends ever felt the same, or if he was just very aware of his own morality in comparison to his super powered friends. He almost wanted to ask Artemis about it, but he decided that wouldn't be the best idea. It might bother her more than it did him if it was brought up.

The mission had been simple, though once again they'd messed up on the whole 'covert recon, do not engage' thing. The fact that they were supposed to be a secret team seemed to just blow right over their heads sometimes. Batman seemed to be catching on, and warned them twice when distributing the mission that it was recon. He didn't seem to be angry with them, but it was definitely something they needed to consider. They couldn't keep screwing up recon missions, or else they'd be losing chances to collect information.

Dick rubbed his eyes where his mask had been, his fingers brushing the slight impression it had left against his skin. It would fade in a few minutes, but he had caught himself staring at his own reflection a few times throughout the mission, staring at the red tunic that seemed to be growing too tight again, and noting that his gloves were shorter. He felt bad about requesting his costume to be tailored, because just a few months ago he'd swapped in his entire wardrobe for something that would actually fit him. He was getting a little uncomfortable with his own growth, and though he enjoyed gaining some height, it was really just a bother.

He stretched his arms over his head, yawning a little. He had school in a few hours, but it was a Friday, so he considered the idea of pulling an all nighter. He could catch up on his sleep the next day, and not worry about accidentally oversleeping and causing Alfred grief about getting him to Gotham Academy on time. That idea didn't sit well with him, as he considered the classes he had the next day, and he decided he would take his chances and try and at least clock in an hour or two of sleep.

Batman didn't arrive when they completed their mission, but Dick had assumed that he was dealing with Gotham issues, and so no one really commented. The mission had taken longer than expected, and everyone had school the next day, so they all bade each other farewell and fled to their respective homes. Well, except for the members who lived at the Cave. They kind of just slumped off to their rooms.

Dick had expected Bruce to still be out and about as Batman. Imagine his surprise when he trotted silently into the kitchen to nick one of Alfred's cookies from the counter, and he saw Bruce sitting at the table, his lips tugged into a strange frown. It wasn't the usual Batman frown, or even the soft frown Bruce Wayne often used when faking bemusement. It was a frown he hadn't seen in a few years, one that he rarely emoted. It was sadness that tugged at the corners of his lips, and curiosity in his eyes. He sat very still, his hands folded before him on the table, and his body lax against the chair. Something about his demeanor felt very vaguely familiar, but Dick couldn't place his finger on it.

Then he saw that they were not alone. Sitting at the other side of the table was a child, very small and pale and scruffy looking, who scowled at Dick from his perch. His eyes narrowed a little bit. He was very thin, that much was blatant to anyone who had eyes, but Dick could see that beneath the dirt and grime there were faint bruises, sallow and mauve stretching across his skin. His white shirt was smeared with filth, and porous enough for Dick to make out the shape of his ribs beneath the fabric. Needless to say, if he had to guess which kid had been off rolling around, fighting for his life in a forest for five hours, he would not pick himself.

"Let me guess," the boy snapped, folding his arms across his chest. "Robin."

Dick blinked at the boy, schooling his features easily to not show any sort of bewilderment, and he cocked his head to the side. "Uh," he laughed sheepishly, "I'm sorry, what?"

"It's alright, Dick," Bruce said, not looking away from the small boy's face. "He knows."

He sucked in a sharp breath, glancing between the boy and his mentor. Well, to think he'd been considering going to sleep moments ago. Oh no, the night had only just gotten infinitely more interesting. "Should I be concerned?" he asked. The boy didn't look dangerous, but Dick had no right to underestimate a child based on his appearance. He was still plenty scrawny enough for villains to grossly misjudge what he was capable of.

"No, I'm handling the situation."

"Oh, yeah," Dick said cheerfully. "I can see that. Bruce, shouldn't you… I don't know, let him take a shower at least? You know, before you interrogate him."

"This isn't an interrogation," Bruce sighed, and the boy snorted.

"Oh, like hell it isn't." He frowned, his eyes darting from Dick to Bruce and then back. "You're just going to hand me over to the police after I tell you my name. So I'm not gonna."

Dick wasn't sure what was going on here, but he found himself wondering where Alfred was. He would be all over convincing Bruce to let the boy clean himself up, and feeding him something before they bothered with questioning him. And Dick couldn't even blame him for not giving up his name, because the fact was that he wouldn't either if he was in his shoes.

"I don't plan on telling the police about the car incident," Bruce said, and Dick could tell he was choosing his words very carefully. "I simply want to know your name so I can call you by something."

"Yes, we find that people don't particularly like being referred to as 'hey you'," Dick chirped, earning a glare from Bruce. The first time he'd bothered to tear his gaze from the boy's, and it was enough to knock Dick down a few pegs.

"Why do you care?" The boy looked a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, and Dick felt a surge of empathy. He remembered when Bruce had first come to the orphanage to talk to him, just a month or so after his family had died, and he recalled the feeling of apprehension when he realized that the billionaire was actually interested in him.

For a moment, Dick panicked. He knew it was because he was afraid of maybe losing Bruce's attention, and that it was selfish of him, but he couldn't help it. It was a short, small pang of jealousy that he quelled almost immediately, and he swore to himself that he would be better than that. This boy… he looked like he needed somewhere to stay, and someone to look after him.

"Why shouldn't we?" Dick asked, curious of what the boy might say. Bruce's eyes were back on the boy's face.

The boy looked at him, his mouth opening to retort, but he seemed to falter. He stared at Dick for a moment, his eyes flitting away from his face when he found himself not able to come up with an answer immediately. "Because…" he said. "Because you're… you're Bruce Wayne! You're Batman and Robin! Like hell you two would give someone like me the time of day."

"Someone like you?" Both Dick and Bruce repeated this, Dick with a degree of incredulity, and Bruce in a vacant tone.

The boy shifted in the sit, looking even smaller all of a sudden. "Yeah," he said, shrugging and brushing the hair from his forehead. "You know. Like…" He wrinkled his nose. "A street rat, I guess. I've been called that before, along with some nastier things which I'm sure you wouldn't appreciate hearing."

"Good call." Dick smiled at the boy, knowing that Bruce was pretty strict on the casual swearing. "But listen, we don't think of anyone as being lower than us. You don't have to tell us your name right now, but you don't have to guard yourself around us either. After all, you know our secret."

For a moment, the boy seemed to consider Dick's words. Then he looked to Bruce. "Is that why you're forcing me to stay here?" he asked slowly. "Because I know you're Batman?"

Dick looked at Bruce, pushing himself back against the countertop to keep him from answering for the man. He knew that the boy was probably right on some level, but there might be more to it. Bruce's heart was a hell of a lot bigger than anyone gave him credit for.

"No." Bruce's expression was very carefully void of emotion, which Dick thought defeated the purpose. But then again, he really had no idea what was going on, so he didn't say anything. "I could very easily take that information from you, but I won't."

Martian Manhunter, Dick realized. He could totally wipe that little smudge from anyone's mind if Batman asked him to. He recalled M'gann's power, and how strong she was growing. She could probably wipe someone's memory easier than she could blink. Dick noticed the boy's discomfort at the thought of what Bruce was implying, so he stepped in.

"What he means is that he trusts you not to tell anyone," Dick assured. The boy frowned, and he slumped in his chair, looking rather glum all of a sudden.

"Well, that's…" The boy glanced at Bruce, his eyes widening enough for Dick to see that they were a cold blue color. "You… you really trust me?"

The truth was, Bruce definitely did not trust the boy, but Dick knew that admitting it would be the worst thing ever. If Bruce wanted the boy's name, this was the way to go, and he knew it. When the man nodded, his grim face managing to pull a small smile, Dick found himself smiling as well. Now if only someone would tell him what was going on.

"Yes, I do." He leaned forward, his hands unfolding and pressing against the table, and now he was all business. "However, that doesn't change the fact that you were trying to rob me— don't look at me like that, I'm not angry. I just want to know why."

"Um," Dick said, pushing off from the counter. "Would now be a good time to ask what's going on? A little out of the loop here."

"We'll discuss it later."

Dick sighed. Oh, he was sure they would. He didn't say anything else though, because he knew it wasn't important right now. The boy was, and that was why Dick smiled and hopped onto the counter, amused by how Bruce was so enrapt in the entire situation that he didn't even care.

"Well, I…" The boy bit his lip, and didn't seem very sure about what to say. Dick felt bad for him. "I don't know, I thought I could sell them. Those are nice tires okay, they'd get me enough to have a roof over my head for a few days."

"You're homeless," Dick stated, frowning at the boy. Well, that explained why Bruce had brought him home instead of taking him back to his parents. The blunt tone he had given earned him two sets of glares, and Dick nearly laughed at how similar the boy's was to the power of a batglare. Not quite enough composure there, but the cold passion was evident.

"I get by," the boy snapped, looking ruffled by the comment.

"Dick—"

"I can see that." Dick smirked and slid off the counter. "You know, robbery isn't exactly what I'd call getting by?"

"Well I'm still alive, right?" The boy pushed back his chair and jumped to his feet, looking angry and hurt. Dick felt a little guilty, but he figured that would pass. "I don't need you to judge me, okay? You try giving up your cushy manor for a day and live on the streets of Gotham."

Dick knew the streets of Gotham well, and he also knew that he probably would not last very long if he had been in the boy's position. He wouldn't have had the heart to steal things, and though he was as stealthy as can be, it wouldn't be hard for him to get caught if he was a lonely kid without any training. So he had to give the boy credit. He was a survivor.

"I don't think so," Dick admitted, still smirking at the boy. "But how about this, 'kay? Stay here for the night."

Bruce made no objections, nor did he appear to even notice the invitation Dick had made to a complete stranger. Dick didn't think it really mattered, because he was a kid and he looked ready to pass out anyway. He definitely needed a shower though, to get all the grime off his skin. Dick had loads of old clothes that didn't fit him anymore, so that wouldn't be a problem, and there were many vacant rooms on Dick's side of the mansion.

The boy was taken aback. He didn't seem to know how to respond to that, especially since he'd most likely been anticipating a fight. Dick could tell by his body's rigidness, and the way his shoulders were squared. Finally, after looking to Bruce for an objection, he said, "You… are you really serious?"

"I would like a name before I allow you to sleep in my home," Bruce said, his frown slipping into a half smile. "But I won't let you go back onto the streets when you have nothing. No family, either, I'm assuming."

That made the boy go quiet, and he looked down at his hands, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. Dick took that as a confirmation, as did Bruce. The man nodded, and stood up as well. Out of the corner of his eye, Dick spotted Alfred lurking near the entrance of the kitchen, simply observing the scene rather than actually be present in the conversation.

"I see," Bruce said, straightening up. "Alfred, I need a guest room prepared."

"Already done, Master Bruce." Alfred stepped into the kitchen, nodding at Dick. "Master Richard, you should be in bed."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry, I'll be fine." He was used to pulling all nighters anyway. Plus, it wasn't everyday that the manor had a guest turn up out of the blue. Dick had a feeling Bruce wasn't going to let go of the boy very easily, either. "How old are you, by the way? You look about my size at nine, which, let me be honest, is definitely not astrous."

"I'm twelve," the boy said, frowning at Dick. His eyes flashed suspiciously at him, doing a quick once over. "What kind of word is astrous? Did you just make that up?"

"Well—!" Before Dick could launch into an explanation about his vocabulary, Bruce cut him off.

"I'd like a name."

The boy stiffened, and he looked up at Bruce through the strands of limp, dark brown hair that hung over his temples. Finally, he relented, and he sighed in defeat. Dick grinned at him, only to be ignored by the kid, who focused his cool gaze on the man behind Batman.

"Jason," he said finally, his voice carrying his apprehension and befuddlement. "Uh, my name is Jason Todd. So… do with that what you want, I guess."

Jason was a distrustful, precocious kid, who Dick got a smile out of after sitting with him in the guest room, explaining what he meant by astrous. Jason had shaken his head, laughing a little. "That's kind of ridiculous, you know that, right?"

"No, Jason, it's awesome. You obviously need to get more acquainted with the wonderful world of linguistics."

"You know, I'm pretty sure that one is a word…"

"Linguistics? Yeah, it is, but that's not the point."

He was forced to go to bed not long after that, because the number of sick days he was allowed to use for Gotham Academy was growing dangerously thin. He was pretty sure that it didn't matter anyway, considering he needed to get up in an hour. But he found himself thinking about Jason and the situation they were given. A boy of twelve with no home or family, and a criminal in the making if someone didn't teach him better.

But he wasn't so bad. A little quick to his temper, but overall he had a sense of humor, and a sense of self. He knew that stealing was wrong, and he swore not to do it again so long as his life didn't depend on it. Dick couldn't deny him that, just in case something happened and he wound up on the streets again before Bruce could sort everything out.

Jason had tried to steal the tires off the Batmobile. Dick was mostly impressed by the fact that Jason had almost succeeded, getting three tires off before Batman stumbled upon him. So Dick had to hand it to him— Jason Todd had guts, and maybe he was even a little bit crazy.

But that was okay. It was the perfect combination for a bat.

So Dick lay in his bed, definitely exhausted from the night he'd had, but not willing to hand himself over to slumber when he knew he'd just be getting up soon anyway. He thought about Jason, and about how many Robin costumes he'd gone through, and how much he'd grown as a person since he had first donned the cape. Then he thought about who Jason might be when he grew older. Stealing tires wasn't exactly a crime expected from a twelve year old, and if he had succeeded, it wouldn't have been his last. Things like that grew bigger, festered like a wound until it became so disgusting and so large that it consumed everything, and then strangled the life from it.

He did fall asleep, if only for a few moments. He dreamt of his mother, and his father, and his aunt, and his uncle, and his cousin. He dreamt of flying, and laughing, and crying, and blood, and screams…

And he dreamt about robins too.

He woke up to the sound of his alarm, and he could feel the seed of an idea forming somewhere in his mind, but he was too groggy and upset to notice it. But eventually the seed settled and grew, and it turned into a beast that Dick Grayson could not kill.

Jason stayed, and Dick found it hard to put on the cape now. He didn't know why, but sometimes when he looked at it, he found himself hearing his mother's voice in his head. Robin, Robin, Robin, if you fall, we'll catch you, see? She'd laughed a lot, and she had always told him he had been meant to fly, and that he had his family to catch him if he ever dared to fall.

But no one caught you, he thought bitterly. No one caught any of you, and now I'm falling too, and none of you are here to catch me.

This is my first fic writing any of these characters, so I'm a little worried. Mostly about Jason and Bruce (how does one even attempt to write Bruce Wayne), but Dick too because his personality is sort of weird sometimes. I'd like some feedback on how I did with them.

I wanted to write my own take on how Jason Todd came into the bat life, and how Dick quit being Robin. I don't think it had anything to do with Batman, or a fight with anyone. I just think that Jason came along, and Dick realized that things needed to change if they were going to help this kid and his life, and it was just a very gradual process that ended with Dick helping Batman train Jason to become Robin. The characters changed a lot between the first season and Invasion, and to be honest, I think a lot of Dick's personality changes probably came from Jason's death. Actually, let's be honest, Jason's death probably hit the entire team hard. I suspect he died before Tula, so it would be their first encounter with losing a teammate.

I have a lot of Jason feels, okay, like why haven't we heard ANYTHING ABOUT HIM yet?