Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jason had been depressed for a long, long time. He wasn't stupid, he could see the signs.

Ever since he crawled out of his grave, his mind buzzed and muttered incoherent words that sounded familiar, but he just brushed it off as the side effects of coming back to life. Then there was the pit, it put a deep, uncontrollable rage in his heart– but again, it was just another thing he couldn't control. 

A few years passed by, but his mind didn't calm down. He still felt a buzz, he still saw flickers of his fights with Bruce. Nothing seemed to calm down for Jason, it was like god chewed him, spat him out and then proceeded to stomp him for shits and giggles.

Regardless, after everything he felt for years– it was obvious he was mentally unstable, and most definitely depressed.

The way the dishes would be piled up in his sink for weeks at a time, or how his bedsheets would be shuffled with bread crumbs and sauce stains, but Jason still wouldn't have the energy to change them.

Sometimes, he'd just lay on his tiny couch and watch movies while being heavy-lidded, but not enough to fall asleep for days straight until he would finally pass out from exhaustion, only occasionally getting up to patrol or to use the bathroom. 

Even during that, his mind would spiral back to whatever had happened in the past— and how his mind was just filled with regret. Regret for something he wasn't responsible for. Regret for not being strong enough, even though it was responsibility of the adults around him to strengthen him instead of abandoning him.

He knew the signs, he was unstable, exhausted, tired and simply depressed.

This is when people with depression were told to reach out, to talk to someone they trust and ask for help. 

Red Hood had no one to call out to, and he didn't need. to. 

Jason was still well aware that his current state of mental health can hinder his patrols, physical health, etc. As much as he would deny it, either while talking to the bats or just some goons that worked under Red Hood, he knew he wasn't stable.

He would occasionally search up or read ways to cope with depression, he had learn that there were many ways one would cope; finding a new hobby, getting a pet, exercising, socializing, etc.

Finding a new hobby was something he had try, he tried to learn the guitar and tried to paint. Both were failures, he felt frustrated with how hard painting was and he just straight gave up on guitar.

Getting a new pet was off the charts. Sure, he found cats and some small dogs cute. But he could barely take care of himself, let alone another living being. 

Exercise is something he did do often, but it never helped. Instead, he'd get too caught up in the gym or with a punching bag that he'd physically wear himself out and well, pass out.

Socialising just wasn't interesting. He didn't want to talk to old ladies at a therapy session or talk to his douchy goons. 

One thing he did use to "cope" was by patrolling. Each time he beat up a criminal or shot one, watching their skin turn a purple or a puddle of blood flow below their bodies, there was a quiet ringing in his ear that shut out so much noise, So much muttering that replayed his years of suffering and his own thoughts. In those few moments, Jason found some peace and quiet, he found nirvana. But it wouldn't last forever, so he sought out more criminals to beat up, again and again, simply calling it "patrol". Well, in a way it was. patrol, he was stopping criminals from doing harm, no? 

Either way, the questionable yet functioning coping method was working, which is why he decided he needed to go out a patrol.

For the past few days, He noticed himself falling into another cycle. He saw piled up dishes, dirty bed sheets, trash bags that were piling up in a corner and attracting bugs. He needed to put himself together, even he found living in such condition disgusting. 

He thought that getting adrenaline pumping his veins would help him function again, and most times, it did. 

Now, he walked around some alleyways. The night was quiet, unfortunately for Jason, and fortunately for the citizens. So far, Jason had only managed to stop a few petty thiefs, and shooing away some drunkards with guns. It was hilarious seeing them trip over their own tiny pistols. 

Other than that? It was a quiet night. Some babies cried, some dogs barked, and there was some occasionally vomiting coming from near a club or maybe just some couples arguing.

But truly, a quiet night.

Jason stood on the roof of some old building, bricks painted grey and a rusting old fire escape. He had just landed here, really. 

There wasn't much to do, the night was quiet, the moonlight shined brightly. Most heros would shout "A success! Let's head home and see how the kids are doing!" Atleast that's what Jason imagined. Was that what Bruce did, too? 

He couldn't imagine it, Bruce striking a pose and cackling in joy over a quiet, minimal crime-ridden night as he went back to his dramatically large manor to check on Dick, Maybe Jason when he was younger or the replacement. 

It made Jason chuckle to himself, the small laugh echoing under his red mask. 

Now he wondered, would Bruce walk back home full of whimsy and joy during the period when Jason was dead? Or was he brooding and gloomy, thinking of Jason's lifeless body even during quiet nights? 

Surely night, the replacement was probably by his side to distract him. He probably didn't even think of Jason, focusing only on the new Robin.

So, Did Bruce even mourn him? Or was he too distracted with that substitute to notice Jason's absence?

Jason quickly shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing in irritation and annoyance. This is why Jason wouldn't consider himself a normal hero, or even a "hero", at that.

Because while the quiet nights were a sign of safety and a symptom of a changing, better city, For Jason the quiet nights were a dreadful process of the moon raising and setting while the muttering in his head grew louder. 

It made him feel guilty. Selfish. He should be happy, satisfied and glad that the city had gotten better, that the city will countinue getting better. Instead, he desperately waited and waited for the next crime, waited for a gunshot ot a scream to distract him from the mutters and the loudness of his own mind. 

A foul stench came from nearby, kind enough to snap Jason out of his thoughts and to focus on something else. It smelled like... Rotten bacon? Iron? oh. Flesh and blood. Isn't that great.

Unsurprised, Jason hopped off of the rooftop and onto the creaking fire escape– because, really? When didn't something insane happen in the city? He sniffed the area, it was a little hard with his mask, but the smell was prominent enough for him to notice.

That's when he came to realisation that the smell came from the building, probably a floor or two below. Jason then walked down the fire escape, the smell getting stronger as he went on– most of the windows in the building were closed, likely unoccupied. The building was small, housing just a few small apartment rooms. It reminded of him of his own.

Finally, he determined that he smell came from a window all the way over at the right of the building, right on the edge.

Great.

After some careful climbing, he crawled in through the surprisingly open window– but then again, if the smell was so strong, it would make sense for the window to be open– or for there to be multiple corpses. Immediately, Jason tensed up.

Red Hood walked through what seemed to be a kitchenette, there was some uneaten meals on the table. They were completely occupied by some bugs and far too rotten for someone to recognise what it was, so the chances of someone being poisoned were low if the food was left untouched. Then, he entered the bedroom and holy shit.

There were two bodies. 

A woman, maybe in her early 30's, laid on the floor, her neck horribly slit open and multiple stab wounds all around her body. Her eyes were still wide open, and the blood had already dried on the floor and around her decaying body.

And a man, around the same age, maybe a little older, hung from the celling, not too far from him was a kitchen knife, dropped carelessly on the floor. 

As much as Red Hood wished that he was completely desensitized, didn't care to see the dead bodies and only focused on understanding what had happened, he still definitely felt a little sick to his stomach.

But he had to focus, he had to. It was pretty obvious a case of murder-suicide; the woman stabbed to death, and the man likey feeling too horrified with his actions to live with the consequences, resulting in him hanging himself. 

Red hood's shoulders stayed tense, before he realised that he should probably call the authorities. Should he call gordon? Even though he hated being near the bats, they still had... Occasional alliances. Every once in a blue moon, either Red Hood or the Bats would find a suprising case and report it to one-another, if in a good mood, they'd try to solve it together before going back to strangers. 

Before he could make a decision, his thoughts were immediately broken by a loud cry– a baby's cry. 

A baby? 

Jason immediately whipped his head around, the cries came from the tiny closest, which upon hearing, He immediately ripped open the doors.

There was a baby in the tiny, barely 4 meter large closet, just laying and wailing on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, as if hidden away.

Jason's first immediate thought was: Who the fuck puts a baby in a closet? Before it was immediately replaced with: How long has the baby been in the closet?

The baby was tiny. It couldn't be more than 7 or 8 months old, Jason could probably cradle it in just his hands alone. The crime scene looked atleast a few days old, maybe a little less than a week. 

Small babies couldn't be left unattended for that long, this kid was probably starving, dehydrated and stressed. How was it even alive?

Without thinking, Jason carefully reached for the baby which laid on the cold tiled floor, covered by a dirty blanket with apple patterns.

Suddenly, Jason felt anxious. How did you hold babies again? 

Jason just hoped for the best as he laid the baby of his forearm, supporting it's head on the crook of his arm and wrapping another arm around it for certainty.

Even so, the baby wouldn't stop crying. 

"You're probably hungry, aren't you?"

Jason spoke softly, he had no idea what possessed him to talk to a crying baby– but it was... Nice. Comforting, almost. Jason also had no idea that he had been holding his breath in. Infact, he suddenly remembered he had to breath, inhale and exhale, like a normal human being when his nostrils were assaulted by another stench.

"...and you need your diaper changed. You stink like shit, literally."

And with a deep and long sigh, Jason headed to the bathroom first.

It had been about 20 minutes since, Jason managed to change the baby's diaper, (And it seemed to be a girl.) except there didn't seem to be any diapers, so Jason tried to make do with some towels for now, before finding some baby formula he could feed her. Suspiciously, the formula was in a jar container instead of it's own box.

Jason guessed that the baby was likey hidden away by the mother, and the father(or brother? The two looked a bit similar.) had found out about her and killed the mother in a blind rage, or something like that.

Now, the tiny baby laid on his arms while suckling on her baby bottle. Jason realised just how tiny the baby was, she was probably malnourished as she was smaller than his forearm and just quite boney in general. 

Thankfully, she had calmed down, now peacefully feeding and slowly blinking, as if warning Jason of an eventual slumber that would overcome her, which made Jason chuckle.

"Hungry, weren't you? You're not letting that bottle go at all."

Jason said to the baby, unconsciously rocking her ever so slightly. Before he knew it, the baby was fast asleep. She was still attempting to clench onto the bottle while being asleep.

Adorable.

"Yeah, napping seems like a good idea, huh? You wore me out enough in a few minutes, can't imagine what you did to your parents."

Jason spoke again, gently and slowly pulling the bottle away as to not wake her up, then putting it down on the dinner table and sitting down on a small, but thankfully available chair. The baby suddenly gripped onto his finger while being deep asleep, it made a warm pit grow in his stomach and his chest a little less heavy. 

But now, he was unsure of what to do. He could call some police to take care of the dead body, but then the police would find him and the baby, then they would take her away and put her in some foster care— that shit ass system. 

The thought of it made his chest tight up, it left a bitter, unknowing taste in his tongue— such a small child being put into an orphanage, where stability and love was a lottery ticket that many didn't win. He knew how the system was in Gotham. Just thinking of the possibility of such a scenario made his heart ache for the kid, despite knowing her for what, a little less than half an hour? Red hood going soft for a random baby, cringe. As the kids would say. 

Unless he took the kid with him.

Huh.

Well, he could just take care of her for a few weeks and find her a new, proper parental figure. 

It could hinder his plans, putting them all on pause— but it would just be a few weeks, wouldn't it? And if he was keen on taking care of her, then he better act fast. 

And in just a few minutes, he threw out the evidence (which was just like, a few dirty diapers and two sets of baby clothes) into a nearby dumpster, erasing the signs of the little girl being under the care of the dead parents. 

Now, Jason was walking home with a damn baby sleeping in his arms. He was taking the safest routes possible for the night, where no one would see him or recognize him, not even the bats. He made sure to take his helmet off and hide away his guns, he didn't want to risk being recognised as red hood, not now.

Honestly, Jason had absolutely no idea why he was doing all this for some random kid. Was it trauma bonding? Infatuation? He wasn't sure.

But if something was going to happen, then it will happen. He would just make sure that the kid is safe and carry on with his work. 

For now, his plan was to go home, call the authorities and inform them of the bodies and head out for baby supplies next day, well, in a few hours, the sun was to rise soon— and it would be a good idea to get the baby checked out by a doctor too. 

He would deal with everything else later. 

Chapter Text

It was a few hours later. The authorities had been informed and investigated the apartment immediately. Thankfully, they didn't seem to question or look for signs of a baby, which relieved Jason. 

Jason was now walking to any doctor office or hospital that was open this early in the morning; there was some brightness, but the sky was still a deep blue. Most of the lights in buildings were absent but some stores were open. Because of the actively present vigilantism, people felt safe enough to open stores at dawn, unlike almost a decade ago— where going to work at such an early hour would guarantee getting hit on the head and your money stolen. Thankfully, after some searching, Jason found a small clinic open by the more open parts of the city. 

He walked into the clinic in a haze, a little exhausted as he hadn't slept, or eaten, at that, but the baby was a priority so he couldn't complain right now. Besides, he had gone longer without sleep or food.

Some nurses and cleaners turned to look at his way. It was understandable, a huge scarred man, walking in with a baby when the sun had barely risen, it would be questionable for sure. He talked to one of the receptionists, who told him to sit down and wait for just a few minutes. Then he walked into the doctor's office, greeted by a rather tired looking woman, sitting by a desk.

Before he could speak, the woman had already scanned him and the baby, speaking immediately.

"Ah, hello! Sorry if I didn't notice you right away, I'm a little tired, y'know, night shifts? Aha– anyways, what brings you here today?"

The woman spoke in a rather high pitched voice, clasping her hands together and immediately sitting up straight despite looking as if she just fought god.

Man, I respect doctors.

"Hello, I was just hopin' for a check up for my uh,"

Jason paused, looking down at the kid who was starting to wake up while still being in his arms.

"Daughter."

The woman then stood up straight, gesturing for him to come closer with the kid, and then opening her arms as if to ask for the kid. There was a badge on her coat, 'Ms. Jackson', It read.

"We'll get working on that right away! She looks just like you, mister..."

"Jas– Jayden Peter."

"Peter! She looks just like you, I knew she was probably your baby. What's seems to be the issue?"

The woman, Ms. Jackson asked as she reached for the baby, cradling her in her own arms while the baby's eyes blinked up at her in curiosity. It made Jason inhaled as he remembered the excuse that he rehearsed in his brain atleast a hundred times by now.

"Well... This is gonna sound a littl' crazy, but my wife and I got into a littl'... Fight, and she left the kid unattended while being upset for a few days while I was away on a work trip, just to prove a point. So I just wanted to get my baby checked up, make sure everythin' is alright."

Ms. Jackson stared at Jason in shock before shouting,

"What?! My god— That woman must've lost her mind, please tell me you'll divorce her."

Jason nodded in sympathy, a small frown forming on his face as he pretended that he was distraught by his non-existent wife's actions.

"I will, I definitely will. I can't believe she hurt my baby. But then again, it's gotham. It's not surprisin'."

Jason replied, while Ms. Jackson tooted as she examined the baby carefully while still holding an expression of shock and worry.

"True that. I'll give her a full check up, she definitely does feel pretty light and looks a bit pale. It won't take too long, Mr. Peter."

Jason nodded once more. Suddenly, his mind flooded with all the potential issues the baby could have. What if she had developed something terminal from the days of neglect.

It had been a little over 10 minutes, The baby was back in Jason's arms, grabbing at his jacket curiously– which, again, made his stomach feel warm. The doctor sat infront of him with a serious yet also relieved expression, while he was still standing, feeling too restless and somehow worried to sit.

"She seems to be mostly alright, surprisingly. Especially after the days she was left unattended, you said."

Hearing those words made Jason feel as If he had finally let go of a heavy boulder he was carrying on his shoulders for hours, and it made the clustering thoughts at the back of his mind disappear.

"But she is under weight, about 3 pounds. She's also come down with a gnarly fever you'll have to treat, but nothing serious. She's a strong lady, isn't she! Ah but, if you're still concerned about other issues— then I recommend you go to a bigger hospital. There's only so much I can do in this tiny clinic."

Ms. Jackson's voice was filled with admiration for the little baby, she seemed as just glad as he was. She pulled a pen from her coat and reached for a little note pad.

"Oh and what's the little one's name?"

Name?

Jason looked down at the baby once more, it occurred to him just now that he didn't know her name– the apartment didn't exactly have bold letters written on the walls to indicate a name. 

He hummed, watching her play with the zipper on his jacket with a toothless smile, as if everything in the world was just fine and she didn't have the worst days just a bit ago.

It reminded him of Elizabeth Bennett, From Pride and Prejudice (A wonderful book, Jason still reread it from time to time.). Fierce and resilient, he only remembered that book so well because it was the last book Alfred read out loud to him on a cold night while Jason, a much smaller Jason got cozy under his blankets. It was the last time he was in the manor before Joker beat his brains out with a crowbar. A chill ran down his spine, before he remembered the name once more.

Elizabeth Bennett. 

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth Peter." 

Jason said with a small smile, his finger now wiggling above Elizabeth's face and the little girl didn't hesitate in grabbing it immediately.

Ms. Jackson then wrote something down in the notepad, a prescription, because what else could it be? The cure to blindness? Of course it was a prescription.

"Well here's some medicine for little Elizabeth. There's a pharmacy right next door, it should have everything I've written down."

The doctor spoke as she handed over the prescription, which Jason took immediately with a nod.

"Thank you, I really appreciate the help. You don't wanna know how many clinics I looked for and you guys were the only ones open this early in the morning."

Jason said with a smile as he began to walk out.

"No problem, and leave your wife!"

Jason chuckled, he was gonna leave his non-existent wife for hurting the little Elizabeth for sure. As he walked out the clinic, he could hear Ms. Jackson loudly talking about how 'some woman left her baby unattended' and that 'the citizens of gotham don't even spare babies now, the city is fucked!'

As he walked out the clinic, he spotted an open pharmacy, just as the doctor had said.

Before he walked over, he looked down at the baby girl who was still curiously grabbing on and playing with his finger.

'She looks just like you!'

Those words echoed in his mind, she did have some features to his. Her hair was black and slightly curled, and her skin a little tanned, just like Jason's. Other than that, her eyes were different— a bright hazel, her eyebrows were more round than Jason's but her nose and weirdly enough, forehead, was similar to Jason's, She did quite resemble Jason.

The similarities made Jason smile, the kid, that wasn't even related to Jason at all, looked just like him.

"You take after me, huh? You must've hit the jackpot cuz I'm the most handsome man there is." 

Jason said sarcastically, he definitely wasn't with all his scars, but he also definitely wasn't ugly, he was... Tolerable in terms of looks.

"Let's go get your medicine, and then some food and clothes for you."

To which, Elizabeth let out a squeal as if she agreed with his plan. God, his heart was aching in the best way possible. 

Jason Todd was taught many things in his life. His mother taught him how to cook food for himself and make use of items in a resourceful way. Bruce Wayne taught him how to fight, how to be a good soldier. Being Red Hood taught him some bitter lessons, but necessary ones regardless.

But after all these years of teaching, Jason thought that he'd learned more than enough to survive and do atleast well enough to make some use out of his life.

So when he had to google "What to buy for a 8 month old baby" at the middle of a Walmart at seven in the morning, he was feeling a little defeated.

He grabbed a shopping cart, and immediately got some baby formula and canned food. Then some diapers before immediately remembering that he was out of his own groceries too, which caused him to stroll to another aisle and grab some bandages, gauze, more canned food and a concerning amout of instant food. He also remembered his socked ripped so he got some of those, and then he remembered that the baby needs socks too. And clothes.

Then he immediately rushed to the baby aisle once more, grabbing some clothes. He also read on an article that pacifiers were good at calming babies, so he got one of those and a baby bottle.

The cashier looked at him with an unamused look, before handing him a bill. 

The cost of everything did make his heart stop and his wallet cry, just a little. No wonder people nowadays didn't want any kids, they were costly.

Now, Jason walked back home, absolutely defeated and exhausted.

"I hope you know that I just spent like, a generation worth of cash on you."

Jason spoke to the baby who was now pressed against his chest, nibbling on his jacket and completely uninterested in his words. 

His heart fluttered. 

"You shouldn't eat that, it's dirty. I literally got you some apple sauce."

The baby, Elizabeth, continued anyway, to which Jason simply sighed as he walked up to his apartment and keyed open his creaking door.

He laid Elizabeth down on the bed, which made her whine and try to reach out to him right away.

"I know, I know. I have to put all this away, yeah?"  

Jason said as he put down the multiple walmart bags on the floor, and before he could even begin with unpacking the outrageous amout of grocery, Elizabeth began wailing and crying in the loudest way possible.

Jason reacted immediately, picking her up and trying to cradle her— which didn't help at all, she still cried and cried. 

"Hey hey hey hey— what's wrong? I'm here, see? I'm right her—"

Before he could even finish, Elizabeth smacked her tiny hand right on his nose. It didn't hurt, it was nothing compared to him dislocating his arms or getting shot while on patrol, but somehow it made him feel as if he had died again.

After multiple attempts at trying to calm her down, and even feed her, Elizabeth only feel asleep after exhausting herself from the crying session. It made Jason let out a sign of relief as he sat down on his twin bed and hold her close to his chest, thumbing the dried tears.

Jason did deal with kids while on patrol, sometimes they were kidnapped, abused, or simply lost. But they were usually toddlers, or hell even teenagers. He could handle them, but he couldn't handle babies.

He laid down Elizabeth onto the bed, he should probably get a place for her to sleep seperately, maybe a crib. 

Something compelled Jason to lay down beside Elizabeth, and he did. He watched her tiny body move slightly, indicating breathing. Her body was much warmed than when he first found her, he pulled the blanket above her, watching her carefully and praying she wouldn't wake up.

And before he knew it, he also fell into a comfortable slumber, right next to the baby.

All he knew that the buzz at the back of his mind was quiet.