So I'm still hella salty about Bruce's behavior in RHaTO #25 so here's a little something for Jason's Birthday that relates to his current story arch. Enjoy!

This is an updated version of this chapter that is hopefully a lot better. Enjoy!

August 16th 2018

It was cold in their apartment. Well, it was cold in Roy's apartment. Jason hadn't woken up for a few days now and the scarlet archer was way past worrying. It took every ounce of Roy's being to not go after Batman right now for what had gone down. He wore a pathway into the hardwood floors with his pacing, freezing every so often just to be reassured by the sound of Jason's raspy, shallow breathing. Kori sits in the parlor, eyes glued to Jason's face, beaten and bloody and bruised and swollen and… broken under the white gauze. Fierce blue eyes gone dim long before he even lost consciousness. Defeated in every sense of the world, unrecognizable.

Roy brings a hand to the bridge of his nose, it's sweaty and his hands tremble. It's been days since he or Kori have slept, terrified that Jason will simply give up, and slip away into the darkness, out of reach forever. The archer runs a hand through his unkempt amber hair and heaves a sigh, he gives in to exhaustion and collapses into a chair by Jason's side. Cautiously he peels back the bandage over Jay's right eye, cringing internally when he sees the deep purple, the swelling and the blood still oozing from the gash adjacent to it. It had been neatly stitched, but in Jason's most recent moment of lucidity, where he came too screaming and thrashing around, he had ripped nearly every stitch in his body. That was three days ago.

Roy lets himself wonder if Jason will ever be able to see again, the damage to his right eye is pretty severe to say the least. He has a broken orbital socket, no broken isn't the right word, crushed. Because Bruce just kept coming and coming and coming, and ignored the feeling of the shattered bones of his son beneath his fist. Roy allows a small growl of anger, and lets himself count the cuts and scrapes now littering his best friend's face. It took them forty-five minutes to pull every shard of helmet from his skin.

The red archer stands again out of frustration and resumes his pacing. What if I hadn't been in Gotham that night? What would Bruce had done to him? Thrown him into Arkham Asylum with the rest of his broken toys? Beaten him into a vegetative state? Locked him deep within the Batcave where no one would think to look? Hand him over to Amanda Waller and forget about him? Jason was almost on death's door when he showed up. A bitter chuckle claws its way up Roy's throat. How ironic the whole thing was.

Roy couldn't let himself think about it. But two things were for certain: Batman should be punished, and Oliver Queen really isn't that bad when you think about it. But Roy understood where Bruce was coming from, not to the extreme that it escalated too, but the bottom line. Jason broke a promise, he broke the promise. The big rule, the glass ceiling. He got that, and he had yet to ask Jason why he did it because Jay's only few moments of consciousness since the… incident, was mostly terrified screaming, begging or glassy-eyed stares. Whatever Jason did, it would never excuse the pure violence and rage that he saw on that rooftop. If Roy hadn't known any better it looked just like any old abusive father and son, lord knows he's seen plenty.

Roy stops pacing and sits down on the chair adjacent to Kori, keeping a careful eye on his best friend's nearly collapsed rib cage as it rises, and falls. He can feel his eyes burning, and doesn't have the strength to fight off his emotions. The rage, grief, pain, and the overwhelming hopelessness that has settled somewhere deep within his lungs. Roy closes his eyes and forces himself to breathe.

After momentarily incapacitating Batman and grabbing Jason, they barely made it to a secret safe house before Jason collapsed and started bleeding all over his craigslist couch. It wasn't safe in Gotham so after contacting Kori it was only a matter of time before they were going to get the hell out of this country. Roy let himself breathe for a second before cataloging Jason's injuries and wrapping a sheet around his middle, tying it tightly to stop the bleeding and stabilize his ribs. The movement roused Jason just long enough for him to contort in pain and let out an agonized groan, then he slipped away again.

A broken collarbone, a few busted ribs, a bruised lung, a dislocated shoulder, a seriously fucked up face, a laundry list of cuts and scrapes, another laundry list of bruised bones, and one hell of a massive concussion. His heart stopped twice.

Roy buries his head in his hands and releases a trembling breath. "What are going to do?" The tinge of hopelessness palpable in his voice. Kori shifts in her chair and when she places a warm hand on his shoulder he can feel it trembling.

"Whatever we must." she responds quietly.

"Whatever we must."

The room again goes silent and all they can do is watch Jason struggle for breath, and pray he keeps breathing through the night.

"Just tell me he's okay- No. Just tell me he's alive." Tim runs a hand through his hair gripping tightly to a fistful of strands in frustration. His words come out in angry huffs of air, nearly making him dizzy. The last few days he's been trying fruitlessly to get in contact with anyone who might know where Jason is. When he found out it was Roy Harper that came to his brother's rescue it didn't take the teen long to track down a phone number. He'd never been so happy to hear that name. Roy Harper.

For days now Tim has merely been searching in every known safe house in all of Gotham, convincing himself that if Jason were dead he definitely would've been informed. He would right? Yes, of course. When he'd checked the last safe house on the west side of crime alley to find the living room soaked in blood and speckled with fragments of red helmet, that's when he really got desperate. He would've confronted Bruce about it if he'd thought it would get him anywhere, also Tim had already separated himself from his family, but there are some things that you can't ignore.

After watching Jason shoot Oswald Cobblepot on screen Tim knew it was just a matter of time before Bruce would get involved. What bothered Tim was that he knew that Jason knew that Bruce was going to flip his shit when he saw, so why? Why do it? There had to be a pretty good reason for Jason to jeopardize everything, to throw everything away for the sake of killing this man, and not even the Joker. Penguin? He just didn't get it.

Tim drags his mind back to the present moment. A phone grasped a little too tightly in his hand, the sound of an exhausted man on the other end of the line. The city was still shaken from that nights events and the streets have been strangely empty ever since then. A cool breeze flutters through his open window, despite the warm night, freezing the drops of sweat on Tim's forehead. He goes to close it but stops when Roy finally speaks up.

"Yes he's alive… sorta. His body is working but he's been in a coma for days. Your pops really did a number on him." The bitterness drains from Harpers voice almost as quickly as it appeared, "He's broken and- and I just don't know how to fix him. If you could see him you would know what I mean. He's not just broken in the sense that about 60% of the bones in his body are broken. It's him. Even before I got him off of that rooftop he was- I don't know how to explain it really. There was no fight in him, he didn't even lift a finger to Bruce. And his eyes, they've… dimmed."

A wave of vertigo takes Tim by the hand and guides him to a nearby chair.

"He didn't fight back?" His voice doesn't sound like his own.

"No. Not even a little bit." Roy sounds exhausted, he sounds defeated, and Tim feels the same things spreading throughout him.

"Where are you? I want to see him."

"I'm sorry kid." was all he answered and before Tim could say another word the line went dead.

Looking down at his desk he tried to decide what this meant for him, for his family. How is Dick taking this? Will Jason ever come back to them? What does Alfred think of Bruce's display of uncontrolled rage? Tim will never know, because as far as he's concerned, from this moment on until Jason is in his sights again, his only responsibility is doing everything in his power to keep his brother alive. Family isn't going to fail Jason this time, because this time he has Tim.

Sitting at his computer Tim replays the news footage again and again, and then he catches it. The way Jason pulls back at the last second. Tim pauses the footage and maps the trajectory of the bullet. A small smile jumps to his lips and he lets out a huff of a laugh.

"You son of a bitch."

Jason was never aiming to kill Cobblepot. Tim should have known the minute the man stabilized and was pronounced 'lucky to be alive'. There was no luck involved, Jason doesn't miss. If cobblepot is alive it's because Jason wanted him to be. How could Bruce not see this? Was he so blinded by his corrupt sense of justice to not notice?

Tim wrings his hands and closes the tabs on his laptop, glancing at the date the knot in his stomach twists itself tighter. August 16th. Tim allows a bittersweet smile to dance across his face before it's gone. Jason is 20 years old today. Small ash colored memories dance through his head, Jason hopping onto his balcony and sharing breakfast with him, the way it feels to fight alongside him. Every small moment of joy they shared, and then they were gone.

"Happy Birthday Jason."

The words hang in the air for a moment before being swept away in the bitter wind.

Dick doesn't trust Bruce to handle most things when it comes to Jason, and obviously for good reason too. He slumps into his couch cutting off his phone call with Tim in frustration. He's called everyone he's thought to think of, and that small glimmer of hope he's kept so carefully maintained is flickering. He just doesn't understand, the family was finally getting along, or so he thought.

Stupid stupid stupid!

Dick pushes the heel of his hands into his temples, interlocking his fingers in a last ditch effort to fight off the headache that's already beginning to colonize. What is happening? What has happened? Dick has no answers for himself or anyone else for that matter. He's frustrated, conflicted and most importantly exhausted. Dick asks himself why there can't be a time where everyone is just… happy. Is that too much to ask? For himself and his self proclaimed family of misfits to feel happy? Then he stops, and wonders if there was a time when Jason felt truly happy, and the fact that he has to think about it only deepens the whole in the bottom of his heart.

He stares down at his phone, thumb hovering over Bruce's contact. He knows he can't call him, can't hold a level headed conversation with him. That is if Bruce even answered, he would hang up before Dick had a chance to ask "Hey so you beat up your own mentally tortured kid… What was that all about?" A low growl crawls its way up Dick's spine and he jumps to his feet to fight off the chill it brings.

There's only one person that he hasn't tried yet, due to past issues he doesn't care to bring to light, but, well, desperate times right? He digs through his contacts until he comes across Roy's number, he heaves a heavy breath and dials. One ring, two, three, "Hello?"

"Harper, it's Dick. Listen I-"

"Save it bird brain I know what you're going to say. You can't see him and don't bother trying to trace the call. Goodbye-"

"Wait! Wait Roy, please. Please I just want to know if he's okay. Roy please he's my little brother." An uneasy and far to lengthy silence follows before Roy responds with a gruff, "Define okay."

"Just let me talk to him."

"No can do Dick, and it's not just me not wanting you to talk to him. He's been in and out over the last few days and right now he's sleeping like a brick." The comment is meant to be funny, disarming, but it's way too strained to even come close to hitting it's mark. Dick is just about to respond when Roy speaks up.

"Listen Dick, I know you care, I know you love 'em, but right now he's under my protection and he needs to heal up. I'll text you an address once he's had some time to be lucid again. I'll see you soon… Hopefully."

The call ends leaving Dick with a thank you dying on his lips and he feels so… hollow, and he doesn't understand why. Then it hits him. The date. August 16th. Jay's 20th birthday. Jay's 20th birthday and he's hidden away in some safe house somewhere, beaten and broken. The thought makes Dick want to break some bones. Instead he hurls himself back into his chair and screams into his hands.

He had plans for today. He was going to take Jason out to dinner and then he was going to convince him to come back to his place for a movie and snacks, y'know… brother stuff. Dick has never done any of those things with Jay before, he thought it would be fun, thought he could introduce some… normalcy into their weird as fuck lives. Instead he's just going to sit here in this chair, try not to storm over to the manor and bash Bruce's teeth in, and just hope that somewhere in this god forsaken world, Jason Todd keeps breathing.

The Manor has been different since Father went out that night, the air is tight and seems on the verge of snapping at any second. Father's hand broke against Todd's helmet and now lay healing under many layers of pristine white gauze. Damian wonders if Todd has access to pristine white gauze, wherever he is. Damian tries to remind himself that he doesn't care about Todd's well being, but he does. He's killed before, he is a trained assassin after all, and Todd is truly the only one who could ever understand what he's gone through. The small boy sits up in the chair he was lounging in and tries to think about why it happened. And when no explanations come to him he entertains the question of if father would give the same treatment to the rest of them. His conclusion is that no, he wouldn't. But then again he hadn't thought of Todd as an exception of this rule and obviously he was wrong. Truth be told he doesn't know and has no way to be sure.

Damian trains his eyes on his father's face, he hasn't been sleeping judging by the shadows hanging under his eyes. The cave is filled with the sound of clicking keys as Batman continues to search to his wayward… What? Son? No, not anymore surely. Wayward outlaw? Wayward soldier? Wayward mistake? Or just the villain that got away. Damian knows in his heart that his father must feel love towards this young man despite his wrongs, but how can you bring yourself to beat on someone that you love so... viciously?

Damian doesn't have an answer but he is sure Pennyworth does. Up to the kitchen he finds Pennyworth cleaning cake pans and wiping down frosting from the kitchen island. Damian takes a seat at the island and crosses his hand on the cool marble surface.

"Pennyworth. I have a question for you."

Pennyworth also looks tired, eyes worn down by yet another tragedy, smile becoming weary.

"Master Damian, let us hope that I have an answer."

"What happened between Todd and Father? I understand why Father went out to hurt Todd, he broke Father's rule, and I understand that Father is anxious about finding Todd but doesn't father… Love Todd?"

Pennyworth takes a moment to soak in the information. Before another sad expression slides across his face.

"I'm afraid I don't have an answer for you young Master for I find that I do not know Master Bruce as well as I assumed. I too believed that your Father's love towards all of you would slow his fist and clear his mind but I'm afraid that it is simply not true in Master Jason's case. I simply don't know how to explain it young Master. I knew his intention but I never dreamed that Master Bruce would ever do something so vicious to one of his own children."

Pennyworth stops washing dishes, excuses himself and leaves. Walking over to the trash can Damian can see what used to be what he thinks is a birthday cake. Written along the top is neat letters is: Happy Birthday Jason. Now the letters are smudged and unrecognizable, and something inside the young boy stirs that he's never experienced before. Pure, un-egotistical pity, for his brother Jason Todd.

Determined to do something, say something to answer the questions in his head he makes his way back down to the cave. He's just about half way down the stairs when he freezes, the sight before him only rattles his confusion greater and strengthens that pang of sympathy. Father, cowl and all, stands in front of Jason's memorial case. A gloved hand rests on the glass, his head bowed, his breath heavy. Raising his head to meet the invisible face of the young street rat with a wicked sense of humor, Father removes his cowl and scrubs a hand across his face.

"I thought things would end differently. For you and I. I pictured college and a future for you Jay-lad. But you're gone. This- this version of you, the real you, is gone. If everything had gone according to plan you'd be in your junior year of your English degree."

Father releases what resembles a dark chuckle, drenched in regret. He pats the case gently and as he turns away he whispers a quiet "Happy Birthday, Jay-lad" before sitting himself back down at the Batcomputer and resuming his work.

Damian stares, for too long, at the glass case. He ponders what conflicts reside within the minds of his Father and Todd, and the worst part is that he knows neither Father or Todd know the answer. He sighs and walks back down to re-occupy the chair he was napping in earlier. Curling up into a tight ball he watches as the faint ghost of a young Jason Todd flash across the glass of his case. Maybe Father is right about one thing, that Jason Todd, the old Jason Todd is long gone. So one question still remains: What to do with the Todd we still have?

"Kori?"

"Yes Roy?"

"You know he turns 20 years old today."

"It's his Birthday? Today?"

"Yeah."

The two share a moment of silence, watching as Jason's lungs struggle against the humid air.

"Next year."

Kori promises.

"Next year, will be better."

END

Alright guys so I personally am not the biggest fan with where DC is going with any of our Robins. They're keeping their stories very separate and don't even get me started on Ric *shudders*. So anyway I'm thinking of continuing this to help satisfy my craving for some more batbro moments. Good idea? Bad idea? Let me know!

Until next time,

MS