Chapter Text
Jason couldn't go back.
He couldn't turn back and grab Damian. He wanted to, but he couldn't. He just… he couldn't. That would defeat the whole purpose of what he was doing, for one. For another, he just… it was safer.
Maybe leaving Damian in a room that had used needles literally right outside of it and had mold growing up the walls wasn't a good idea. Jason didn't know anymore. He just- he didn't know.
He didn't look back to see if Bruce was there. The sound of a grapple and boots running along the roof was proof enough that he was there. Jason paused on a fire escape, listening. He heard it when Bruce saw Damian. The pause where another person would gasp. The sound of him climbing into the window, a soft conversation. Damian sounded like he was close to crying. Jason wanted to cry.
Then the grapple was fired again. Bruce landed on the ground. The whir of the batmobile, doors opening and closing, and then they were gone.
Jason squatted on the fire escape, feeling like he was five years younger and scared of everything and everyone around him. He wasn't 11 anymore though. He was 16, getting freakishly close to 17, and he had killed so many people.
Jason buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath.
Damian was with Bruce now. He was safe.
So why did he feel as though he had just failed?
Jason took another deep breath and pushed away the urge to break down and cry. He had to get back to Dawn's apartment. She'd let him stay with her for a while. She'd been the one to tell him to maul his own step-father, after all.
Yeah. He could go to Dawn's apartment again.
He climbed down and started to make his way to Dawn's place. He took off his mask and stuffed it into his bag.
The walk to Dawn's apartment was quick. She lived fairly close to Crime Alley, though not close enough that she was pulled into any gang violence. She'd been talking about possibly working at Gotham Free Clinic, which Jason had encouraged. Her apartment being near the alley meant that it would be easy for her to walk there, though that didn't mean that it was safe.
Jason stuck to the shadows, just as the others were, just as he had done at 11. Hell, even before that, he'd hidden in shadows. A couple of people eyed him. He just tilted his head in that specific way that Robin did mostly because it was unsettling. A child in bright colors, with a white lens mask that made it impossible to see where they were looking, tilting their head like a bird. It was prime freak-out material. No one bothered him when he tilted his head like that. Confusion and fear over took them, wondering why a random kid unsettled them.
Jason made his way to Dawn's apartment. He stood in front of the door he knew well enough, staring. He knocked on the door.
Dawn opened it. She smiled at him and moved aside, letting him in. Something eased inside of Jason. He went in and took off his shoes. He saw Allison and Thread's shoes in the entryway, lined up nicely. Jason pushed his own next to them and walked into the apartment.
"Hey, Boss," Thread called out. They frowned. "Where's Daniel?" He asked. Jason tensed. He stared at his friends.
"I-" The lump was back. He took a deep breath. He shook his head and fled the living room.
He ended up in the room he'd used the last time he was there. Dawn hadn't changed it since he'd been gone. The bed had the same sheets and was pushed up into the same corner near the windows. The same desk, the same pile of books that Dawn had bought him. Jason stared at his desk. He reached into his bag and pulled out the little elephant he'd stolen from Hobbs. He placed it onto his desk. It was like a little ode to Dick. He dropped his bag onto the floor.
Then he collapsed onto his bed.
Damian was with Bruce. Jason was back in Dawn's apartment, so close to his family yet so far from them. Cass knew that he was alive and he'd blamed her for their mama's death.
He… she hadn't… Mama dying hadn't been her fault. Their mama had just fallen into depression, and she'd started to use instead of trying to get help.
They hadn't been able to get help.
Jason needed his antidepressants…
He turned his head to the left. The bat and robin toys he'd gotten two years ago were there, waiting for him to return. Tears pricked his eyes. He shifted and reached out to grab both of them. He knew, from previous nights where he'd clung to them, that it hardly helped him out. It was just… he wanted his family… Why hadn't he gone home?
They wouldn't want you, the voice whispered. Jason hated it. It was venom in his head, trying to poison him against his family.
Jason took a deep breath, keeping his breath even despite the water falling down his face and onto his pillow.
_______________________________________
Guilt is like a snake. It curls in a person's gut, ready to strike them in the throat and watch them bleed. It coils around one's throat, each lie told to keep a deadly secret tightening, squeezing breath out of a person's lungs.
Jason didn't have a deadly secret. He wasn't really planning on hiding who he was from Bruce or from his family. If they figured him out and decided to talk to him, to bring him back into the fold of the family, then he'd let them. He'd try, if only to see them again, to tell them how much he loved them again.
Well… he had killed people, but he wasn't exactly ashamed of that.
But the guilt of leaving Damian behind was wrapped around his throat, trying to suffocate him. He honestly wanted to let it.
Dawn wasn't having it, though. She barged into his room as soon as it was… well… dawn, and she dragged him out of bed to spar. Thread and Allison watched sleepily as she did.
"What the hell?" Allison muttered.
"He needs to keep up with his training," Dawn chirped.
"I hate you," Jason whined.
"No you don't," Dawn replied smoothly.
"Right now I do."
"Future you won't hate me when he realizes that me dragging you out of bed for training is actually good for your mental health." Jason huffed, but he let her drag him to the training room.
"How exactly is training good for someone's mental health?" Thread asked.
"I'm going to tell you about a Maori health module."
"A what health module?"
"Maori," Jason replied, "it's the name of the native people of New Zealand."
"Maori technically means 'normal'."
"Oh, that's interesting," Thread mused. Dawn pulled Jason into the middle of the training room. The sun was higher now, and Jason saw that it was actually a cloudless day today. Not that common for Gotham, really. He wouldn't be surprised if there was a storm tonight.
"This Maori health module I'm going to tell you about is called Te Whare Tapa Wha. It's based off of four concepts. Whanau, or family, tinana or physical, hinengaro or mental health, and finally, wairua, or spiritual. I think this is typically used for Maori health? But it applies to everyone, really. The model is basically a meeting house, which is used to represent the four cornerstones of health. If one of them is unstable, then the whole house could collapse, so you've got to take care of each wall."
"And my mental health is shit," Jason grumbled.
It made sense, though. Everything felt like shit because of his mental health, and taking care of that and taking care of the other parts of his health was important to stop himself from collapsing.
He moved away from the group and started doing some warm-up exercises. Dawn's voice was quiet in the early morning light. She was explaining something to Allison and Thread, probably about the health module she'd talked about. Jason looked up at the three of them.
Dawn looked even less human in this light. She seemed to be soaking in the early light, her hair lit up bright and looking more like a sky that was just seeing the light of a new day. Jason huffed. Her mom had really named her something that was on the nose. Dawn Soleil. Morning Sunshine. Like now.
Jason focused on his stretches. He sat on the floor and stretched a leg in front of him. He leaned forward until he could hold it and held the position for a while. Then he switched legs.
Dawn joined him, watching the sun rise as she stretched next to him. Thread and Allison sat nearby, talking in hushed tones. Jason finished his stretches and rolled back so that he could push himself into a handstand. He held the position for a few minutes, then tipped forward and landed on his feet. He moved to actually train.
Dawn was right about one thing earlier. Taking time to train helped to calm him down. He was able to get his frustration and his guilt and everything else he didn't want to feel out by punching and kicking a bag. It was like therapy in a way.
"You've still got to go to therapy, by the way," Dawn called out to him. Jason held onto the punching bag when it swung towards him. He glared at Dawn.
"Why?" He asked.
"The meeting house! Remember the meeting house of health!" Jason rolled his eyes, but his mouth tilted up in a smile anyway.
"Fine," he agreed. It would be better for the kids if his mental health was better.
It was getting far too close to his birthday for his liking, but he didn't think that Dawn would let him act on his plans until she was sure that he was doing well mentally. That was okay, he thought. He punched the bag again. It would allow him to fully flesh out his plan a bit more. Time to gather resources. He didn't feel like he had enough time to actually do anything to help the kids in Crime Alley.
But Dawn had been wearing a suit and had been in the Crime Alley area.
She'd been patrolling, he realized. She'd been running around, keeping watch over the people there. She'd been taking care of them, carving a path for Jason to follow, making it easier for him to take control of the crime there, to help all of the people stuck in the vicious cycle that poverty brought.
She'd been anticipating it from the very beginning.
"You've been patrolling the alley," he called to her.
"I have," she agreed. Jason paused to watch her do some pull-ups, arms straining. He hadn't noticed how her arms were toned in the way that only an archer had.
"I must ask why? It is not like you have any obligation to." And now he was speaking all fancy and posh. Why? Why was he speaking like this?
"They have been in need of someone who cares enough to heal their wounds and fend off predators. Like a guardian dog on a farm. In fact." Dawn dropped down to the ground. She looked at Jason and smiled. "More people have survived wounds and illnesses that would have normally killed them than last year alone."
"You're clearing a path for me to come in and do more." Dawn smiled.
"You would have the ability to do it yourself. There is no doubt in my mind that you don't actually need me."
"Then why?"
"Because you're still a child, Jason. You're still a child, and your plan is so much to put onto your shoulders. I am a healer. That's something that I have from my father. If I can use my powers, my knowledge, to help people survive and lessen your burden, then I will do it." Jason looked down at his hands, wrapped up so that he could hit the punching bag without hurting his knuckles.
Jason remembered what it was like to live on the streets. The way that an injury left untreated could result in death, even if it was just a broken bone. A broken bone meant not being able to do anything to get money, which meant starvation. An infected cut meant certain death, and cancer was a death sentence even at stage one.
And Dawn wanted to stop it from happening.
Healthcare had been on Jason's list, at the very top, right above education, and Dawn had been taking care of that.
Sure, Leslie had her clinic, but how many people actually trusted that? Some people didn't want to have to wait to get more money, and they had to wait with Leslie. Dawn…
"How do you heal?" Thread asked. Jason had learned fairly quickly that Thread was a nerd in a comic book, hero fanatic type of way. They just… weren't so forward with that.
"The only way that I can think of explaining it is that I'm like a human solar panel with a back-up generator. My dad's the Greek god of the sun, archery, healing and prophecy. My mama's a witch. I have both of their powers." Dawn shook her head. "Basically, I absorb sunlight and store it as energy. I can transfer it to others and speed up mitosis, which is the process of growth and healing that the body naturally goes through. I can heal broken bones, cuts, and sometimes even sickness. I can't cure cancer though."
"Does it ever get dangerous? Your powers, I mean."
"If I over use my powers, I can burn someone, or I can cook them from the inside out, or they'll end up with a mass of cells that have grown too fast, and I've just given them cancer."
"Oh shit," Allison said. Dawn nodded.
"So I have to be careful. After all, taking a life is easy. Saving a life? Now that's where it gets harder." Dawn turned to the windows again, and Jason could see how the light seemed to bend towards her in the moment. He swore her body glowed.
Jason turned to the gymnastics equipment Dawn had now, his mind filled with what he could do and how to do it.
"Can you train us? Just so that we don't die," Thread asked. Jason laughed. It was the first real laugh in a while.
"What do you guys think I was gonna do? Leave you without any skills to protect yourselves?" He asked. He shook his head. "You're too important to me. All of my employees are too important to me, and there's only two of you so far."
"Way better than Theo," Thread said. They were grinning.
"Start making a training routine, Whero, they'll need it," Dawn called to him. She turned around and went back to her own training. Jason paused to look at his team. A small team, but it was something, and it was a start.
He remembered when he'd first became a Wayne. Dick had shown him Lilo & Stitch within the first couple of weeks, and Jason had cried when Stitch said that the family he'd found was small and broken but still good.
He felt like that now with his team. So far there was only four of them, but they were still strong. With Jason's wit and skills that he'd honed and Dawn's knowledge and demigod status, they were strong. They could train Allison and Thread, use their skills where they were needed.
No one, Jason decided, would know Redwing's identity except for the three with him now. And, of course, Damian and Cass. He had faith that they wouldn't snitch on him, though.
Plans were forming in his mind more than they had been before, thoughts and ideas and desires that he had always had coming together to form a large portion of his plan.
"Hey, Dawn?"
"Yeah?"
"How do I take over Crime Alley in other worlds?"
"Duffle bag of doom. It's filled with the heads of Black Mask's lieutenants."
"WHAT THE FUCK?" Jason nearly slipped. He sat on the floor instead, staring at the three of them.
"What the fuck, Dawn?"
"It's more like-like- what the fuck, Jason? Because other versions of you did that." Jason sighed.
"Beheading is the most effective way to kill people. Cuts the… the-"
"Spinal cord."
"I know what it's called!"
"Do you?"
"Yes! Fuckin' hell- you're like an annoying sister." Jason rolled his eyes.
"Thanks, that's what I aspire to be," Dawn replied. Jason slumped.
"Interesting… dynamic? I guess?" Thread commented.
"You have no idea what to make of this dynamic, do you?" Jason questioned.
"I- yeah, I have no idea… what to make of this dynamic." The four of them went silent for a while.
Then they burst out laughing.
"What the hell is even going on?" Allison wondered.
"Team bonding!" Dawn cheered.
"Team bonding via… murder?" Jason joked.
"Yeah! Team bonding via murder!" Thread quipped. Jason laughed. This was probably the most he'd laughed in a while. He hadn't even laughed like this when he was in that other world…
His laughter died down. He watched his friends laugh and joke, bonding.
Found families had always been hid favorite trope as a kid. The idea that a family wasn't just blood, but those that a person chose and ended up choosing them in the end… his dream was to find himself his own family. He had, in the end, when Bruce picked him up. Now though…
Now he was building another family, but it was so different. It was three people he'd met randomly, all of them older than him, but all of them following him.
Jason looked down at his hands. He'd wrapped them for gymnastics. One of the first things that Dick had taught him, aside from the fact that Bruce was genuinely a good man, was basic gymnastic stuff. That included wrapping his hands.
Jason didn't know the full story behind Wally and his apparent death… What had happened? Dick had been so distraught in that vision thing he'd had. Was it even real? He'd have to ask Dawn… and the kid.
Wally could have simply left Dick, but Jason knew them better than that. They were the first example of an actually healthy relationship Jason had seen. They were always so close, always in each other's orbit. Even if Wally wasn't there, and the conversation had nothing to do with him, Dick would bring up Wally. They were so in love that Jason hoped to have something like that. Something where he knew small details and his eyes always found his partner over anyone else. Something where they could simply exist together without words and it wouldn't matter.
So the only other choice would be that Wally had died.
Why had he gone off in search of his mother and sister? Why? He'd been so stupid when he did that. It had been futile in the end anyway.
"Jason?" Dawn called. He looked up at her.
"What?"
"Thread, Allison and I have agreed to have some breakfast, then we could put our heads together and come up with some ideas of what we're going to do."
"Oh… uh… that- that sounds good." Jason stared at his hands again. Dawn stood there, then sat next to him. Her knee pressed against his thigh.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"What happened to Wally?" He asked.
"What do you know?" Jason swallowed thickly.
"I know that he died, because he'd never leave Dick. It… it kinda left my mind, for a while, but now that I'm here… I have some doubts about that." Jason sighed. He looked to his right. Away from Dawn. "I had these visions, you know? It was like I was there, but I couldn't interact with anyone. One of them, when I was at the training camp… it was after the first day of actually training. Dick was sitting on his kitchen floor and crying and I- I just need to know. Please." He looked up at Dawn. Her brows were furrowed.
"I've been forbidden from telling you the truth," she said, "but… as far as anyone is aware… he's dead." Jason wanted to scream, to shake Dawn and see if he got an answer from her.
"I need to know the truth," he whispered.
"I told you too much by showing you those comics, by telling you to maul Cain because of the rate of resurrection. This is something that I can't tell you until They tell me to."
"They?"
"The Protector. They are the one that sent me to bring you back, to watch over you for a while. Just until you're older, or until you go home." Jason pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged them.
"They won't want me back. I've broken the number one rule so many times…"
"Jason, that rule exists for Bruce. Watching his parents die in front of him made him predisposed to wanting to preserve life, no matter how rotten it might be. It's like when you can't talk. There's a mental block there between his brain and his finger when he holds a gun. He can shoot at a target, but not a person. That rule is also there to protect Robin from the guilt of taking a life."
"Great way to remind me that I'm not Robin anymore," Jason mumbled into his knees.
"You would have out grown Robin anyway, Jason. It's a natural thing for you guys. Every world, you all end up leaving Robin behind, you all find who you are outside of it."
"It's shit though. I just- I want to be with my family again, but Cass and I fought. I blamed her for doing the same thing I did to Damian and I just-" Tears were streaming down his face now. All of the emotions he'd been bottling up came pouring out. Dawn didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around him.
She rested her head on top of his. She rocked gently. Repetitive. Soothing. She didn't try to get him to calm down. She just… let him get her clothes covered in snot and tears while rocking him.
His tears stopped after a while. His head hurt, he needed water, and his face felt stiff from all of the tears. Jason sniffled and sat up. Dawn kept a hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry 'bout the snot," he murmured.
"I've been covered in blood, vomit, piss and who-knows-what. Snot's the least difficult to get out."
"That sounds gross," he murmured. He sniffed again. "My head hurts."
"You did just cry a lot," Dawn reminded him. She waved her hand over her clothes and the stains disappeared. She stood up and reached out to Jason, offering her hand. He took it and allowed himself to be pulled up.
They made their way to the kitchen. Jason stopped on the way there and washed his face. His eyes were still puffy. He didn't bother trying to hide it. He'd never been ashamed of crying, not even when Willis had shouted at him for it.
Allison and Thread were talking about breakfast when they got there. Dawn went to the cupboard and pulled out some flour, some eggs, and other things Jason recognized. He went up to the bowl and started to measure out the flour. Dawn let him decide between pancakes and waffles. Jason decided pancakes.
Dawn talked to Thread and Allison. None of them talked about his puffy eyes, or asked if he was okay, but they didn't wander too far from him.
"We'll start our planning after you've had a couple of therapy sessions," Dawn said to him.
"Who are we looking at?" Jason asked.
"Harley Quinn has been allowed to practice again, so long as she doesn't cause too much chaos. She's been given a few days per year to blow shit up if she wants, over seen by Batman." Jason paused. His fingers twitched.
"I'm not sure about that." He stared at the batter in front of him. His mind was cataloguing all off her offenses, all of the things that she'd helped Joker do.
How could he forget, when laughter that got too manic could send him spiraling?
"We'll find someone else, then. But you have to go to therapy, Jason."
"I will," Jason agreed. He didn't like feeling like shit all of the time. Well, not all of the time, but it was a close thing.
Conversation steered away from therapy. Jason was allowed to cook in peace. The motions were therapeutic, calming. Before he knew it, he'd cooked the entire batch of batter into perfect pancakes and Dawn had whipped some cream.
"Wait, this cream is so good."
"Thanks! I put icing sugar in it."
"Icing sugar?"
"Right. Powdered sugar. This is why I don't like Americans."
"Well, fuck you too," Jason sniped. He still piled a large glob of whipped cream onto his pancakes though. Dawn grinned and brushed the comment aside. She placed bowls of fruit on the table instead. Jason grabbed some.
There was a bit of laughter around the table as they ate. Allison and Dawn were bonding a lot.
Jason wondered how Damian was doing.