From: Batman & Robin Eternal #20 (2016)

Perhaps if y’all had just waited for “the Real Robin” to finish his “Year of Blood” you could’ve avoided this mess?

inkydandy:

I meant to get this done in March and of course it didn’t happen. But, Dick’s got so many birthdays, I figured I could post it whenever.

And when in doubt, always consult good ol’ Al

Oh, @inkydandy. Always with the fantastic Batfam representation. ❤

Source: inkydandy

When the Batboys disagree with Bruce…

Dick is the son who likes to (dramatically) talk it out with him (and hopefully hug it out after)…

Jason, the one who would rather steer clear of him to avoid a fist fight or any form of parenting from him…

Tim, the one who drowns himself in work (perhaps to collect enough evidence to prove his point)…

Damian, the one who makes snarky comments and spiteful comebacks, but ends up doing what his father says anyway.

*shrugs* Probably.

[Bruce & Dick Panels] Outsiders #21 (2005)

When I first came across this issue, it was in one of those “sale” shelves. Apart from Batman himself, I wasn’t as intimitately familiar with the rest of the Batfamily just yet. The cover intrigued me, though, and a few pages in, I was sold.

In hindsight, it was ridiculously cheap for such a gem (plus, in fairly good condition)! It’s one of the first single issues I’ve ever bought, and one of the first to solidify my growing addiction to moments of Batfamily angst.

So, I guess the cover can clue you in about what this issue might be about, but here’s a little backstory (and some spoilers):

Outsiders #1 is set a while after the Titans parted ways following the loss of Lilith and Donna Troy (Wonder Girl). Roy Harper (Arsenal) approaches Dick Grayson (Nightwing) about forming a new team of superheroes. Dick, still brooding over their loss, is uninterested. It’s clear that he isn’t ready for the emotional burden of leading a team, then putting their lives at risk again.

Roy reminds him why they formed the Teen Titans in the first place (to be heroes in their own right, and not just sidekicks), and that this time around, they didn’t have to be as emotionally invested as they used to be. They didn’t have to be a “family” like the Titans were, just a team.

Reluctant but convinced, Dick eventually becomes their leader.

Note: Now, if the “Outsiders” sound familiar to you, remember that Batman led his own version of the team?

Anyways…

“So… who pays for this team?”

In the previous issue, Outsiders #20 (2005), following Metallo’s attack on the Outsiders’ headquarters, Indigo makes an incidental finding in the wreckage: the high-tech cables hidden in the building walls aren’t supplied by Optitron (the corporation they believe to be financing their vigilante operation), but by one with much deeper pockets…

Now, onto the current issue again (and a little more backstory):

**“They keep close tabs, but they have allowed the team to be autonomous.”**

Optitron, which was once merely a syndicated cable company, eventually acquires three of the largest cable companies in the world. As a way of giving back to the people for its immense success, the corporation becomes involved in global philanthropy. To step it up a notch, it funds a crime-fighting unit of superheroes (yes, the Outsiders).

But…

Cue dramatic suspenseful music: *DUN-DUN-DUN DUUUUUUNNNN*

**“He did this again. He always does this.”**

And, by “this”, it’s safe to assume that he means Bruce – to put it lightly – interferes. Ask any member of the Justice League – he’s notoriously controlling!

Now, you’d think that Dick would be more grateful, right? While other vigilantes conduct their operations in cramped hole-in-the-walls, worrying about their day jobs to carry on their night ones, he and his teammates are gettin’ paid.

But, this is a father-and-son, not benefactor-and-beneficiary, kind of issue. It has nothing to do with money. As it usually is between Bruce and Dick, it’s a matter of principle.

So, brace yourself for some Drama^TM, Wayne Manor style…

**“What the hell is the matter with you? I mean, aside from the obvious!”**

So, here’s Dick, dropping some heavy truth bombs…

Part of Bruce’s parenting style is to absorb his children’s rage (over him, over anything), then channel it into a teaching moment (eventually). As long as they’re not in the middle of a life-threatening scenario, he’ll hear them out.

He’ll let them say what they want to say, how they want to say it.

Then, he’ll seem detached and uncaring. But, see, he’s not exactly Mr. Heart-on-His-Sleeve. When you’ve become as hardened by years of pain and loss such as him, it becomes a habit to tuck any semblance of vulnerability away.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love his children – he clearly does,1000% yes – but sometimes silence is all he has to offer. A moment to listen. A mind that isn’t racing towards the next case. Because he knows that there are problems a utility belt just can’t solve. (Plus, he’s not always the best at words when emotions are concerned.)

He has his moments when he’ll let his guard down, too. When he’ll act like their father-father, not just their mentor-father. A tight hug. An affectionate hair tousle. Forgoing patrol to watch a movie (*cough* Jason *cough*). The little things. Rare, perhaps, but they do happen.

But, yeah, then there’s moments like this, too (where we’re extra thankful that Alfred’s around):

**“As hard as it may seem, Dick, I saw the Outsiders as a good idea. I believed in you.”**

Anytime Bruce keeps something from him, Dick gets hurt. Because he’s always thought highly of Bruce and the bond that they share is sacred to him.

Now, keep in mind that part of why Dick became Nightwing was to shed his sidekick persona. Much of his adult life has been spent trying to step out of Bruce’s shadow and become his own kind of superhero.

So, understandably, he feels betrayed. In his mind, Bruce lied to him and is still closely keeping tabs on his endeavors.

(That act of “omission” on Bruce’s part? I guess we can chalk it up to his habit of not-needing-to-explain-himself.)

For some reason, the next set of panels reminds me of that episode from the first season of Young Justice in which Bruce requests a private meeting with Kaldur’ahm (Aqualad) in which even Dick (then Robin) isn’t invited. Dick gets jealous and takes it out on the (concrete?) gym wall. By the end of the episode, Bruce makes it up to him by challenging him to a one-on-one basketball match – undivided attention! – which Dick gladly accepts.

Bruce’s opinions matter very much to Dick, whether the latter agrees with them or not. In both instances (Young Justice and this issue), he’s expressing his insecurity (though, he seems to be denying it in the fourth panel). Where does he stand with Bruce? (A question which every Batfamily member has probably asked at least once in his or her life.)

“You expect too much of me.”

Bruce. Ever the pragmatist. Always punishing himself with reminders of his failures, of people he wasn’t able to save.

And, Dick, ever the optimist. Always trying to give others the benefit of the doubt.

For the purpose of closure: At the end of the issue, we find out that it wasn’t actually Bruce who’s been giving Roy intel all this time, but Slade Wilson disguised as Batman.

Bruce and Dick… they’ll have these fits of rage, then calm down as if nothing happened. Neither needs to say “It was my fault” or “I love you” or whatever. It’s all just kind of understood somehow.

Like, you know, a family.

If the Batboys were Powerpuff-ed…

Nightwing would be Bubbles.
The cheerful cutie.

Jason would be Buttercup.
The hotheaded muscle.
(Plus, it’s canon that he likes the color green.)

Tim would be Blossom.
The brainy leader.

And, I guess Bruce would be Professor Utonium, their black-haired genius creator?

Huh.

[Bruce & Dick Panels] New 52: Nightwing #30

I won’t go so far as to say that Dick Grayson is Bruce Wayne’s favorite son – let alone, child – because that will always be up for debate. After all, Bruce has a unique relationship with each of his children (biological or otherwise).

However, I do think that, among the Robins, Dick has the most complex relationship with Batman, even by virtue of his long tenure alone.

This set of panels from the New 52′s Nightwing #30 contains one of my favorite Bruce and Dick sequences because it give insight into their relationship as father and son. It’s one of the most dramatic (and brutal) ones I’ve read so far, but that’s part of what makes it memorable.

So, for starters, a little context (with some spoilers):

We all know that Dick is the original Robin, the one who set the standard for the ones to come. When he was beaten up by Two Face, Bruce “fired” him out of fear of putting the boy’s life in danger again. Dick eventually “outgrew” his scaly green spandex shorts to become the Titans’ leader and Blüdhaven’s protector, Nightwing.

As Nightwing, Dick’s a young adult who’s wise beyond his time and remains unbroken by all the trauma he’s faced. He also has a more “mature” confidence about him and often speaks to Batman as an equal (always with some level of affection and respect, though), something he’s earned over the years. Thus, it’s no surprise that, in over 75 years of partnership, they often butt heads over matters of principle. (Which fandom has tackled extensively in meme form.)

But this time (at the risk of oversimplification), we’re shown a fight between a child who put himself in harm’s way and a father who (quite harshly) reprimands him for it out of love.

Backstory: During the events of the Forever Evil story arc, the Crime Syndicate’s Superwoman reveals Nightwing’s civilian identity to the world, and everyone (except for Batman and Lex Luthor) thinks he’s killed. In the aftermath, Bruce sends him on a mission to infiltrate Spyral by posing as an agent. So, how did Bruce talk Dick into doing it? Read on.

**“We need to do it again. You and me. I need to see if they broke you. I need to see if you still have the heart you once had.”**

**“I trained you to live, and I watched you die!”**

Like a frustrated father, Bruce pushes Dick to toughen up. (He knew his son could take it. Or, well, that he had to.)

**“Fight like you’re alive!”**

Like a son afraid of disappointing his father again, Dick obeys and puts up a fight. (See that smirk on the second panel below? That’s the smirk of a father who knows that his son can surpass him and is proud of it.)

**“They’re family! My family! I can’t do it to them… I just can’t.”**

Now, while Bruce tells him about Spyral mid-battle, Dick is still trying to absorb the fact that Bruce is asking him to keep pretending to the rest of their family that he’s still dead.

They both hear each other, but refuse to listen. One is decided that their best option is to transform the situation into an opportunity to keep their family and other superheroes safe, over the emotional cost; the other, unwilling to break the trust that bonds them in the first place. This shows their fundamental difference in character: Bruce’s judgment is ruled by his pragmatism, while Dick’s, his sentimentality.

At any given time, neither of them is completely right or completely wrong. When they argue, the writers usually give them both a valid point of view. As an audience, we’re drawn to how they balance each other out, which was the main purpose the Robin character was created in the first place.

**“We fall because someone pushes us. We get back up to push back.”**

A son who feels betrayed by his father…

“I know I’m hurting you. My family. I’m making that sacrifice because I don’t give up. I don’t give in.”

A father who acknowledges it, but stands firm with his decision…

In Forever Evil, Bruce is clearly shaken when he thinks he’s lost Dick. (What’s that saying about how parents aren’t supposed to outlive their children?) He obviously can’t “fire” Dick anymore and he knows he can’t rein him in from crime-fighting either, so he mentors him one more time instead.

Bruce expects Dick to be the best man he can be and trusts him to be more resilient than other superheroes because, not only is it how Bruce and Alfred raised him to be, but it’s also how he naturally is. And, Bruce is desperate to equip him to be just that because he knows it’s possible with this son of his.

When I first read this issue, it broke my heart. Bruce seemed heartless, but he was actually focused on the bigger picture, which is true to his character. It was the sacrifice-a-few-for-the-good-of-the-rest spiel. Sometimes it’s almost as if he’d rather his children hate him and outlive him, than die on his watch.

As hurtful as it was, Dick relented and eventually became Agent 37. This from a man who has shown many times over the years that he’s fully capable of choosing his own path in spite of Bruce’s influence.

That’s how much he loves and trusts Bruce.

(Granted, perhaps DC just wanted to take espionage for a spin, but still.)

Bruce isn’t a perfect parent. Dick isn’t a perfect son. (Far from it.) Well, who is, anyway? But, every bone that broke that day made it clear how much they cared about each other.

Talk about “tough love”, huh?

This is about as interesting a segue as you can get into Grayson, really, which in itself deserves a separate post. It was an awesome series and Dick was really in his element in it. Plus, there are some brief, but beautiful Bruce and Dick moments in it, too.

HYPNOTISED: A Jason Todd/Red Hood x OC Fan Fic

Summary: Snippets of a blossoming romance between Jason Tood/Red Hood and an original character (named Ima), with other DC characters in supporting roles. Jason falls for a waitress at a diner he frequents with his best friend, Roy Harper. When she is caught in the crossfire between him and Black Mask, he is determined to protect her at all costs. What he does not expect is her falling for him, too. And how much she becomes a part of his – and the Batfamily’s – life.

** Not strictly canon. Romance + fluff + minor angst. A lot of Batfamily feels. Title from the Coldplay song. Currently 8 chapters long, each one to be posted separately due to length. Editing may occur, depending on inspiration. 🙂 **

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

Eight

“It’ll just be a few days,” Jason said, rubbing Ima’s shoulders, “I promise.” He promised? Good luck keeping that, Jason. If he thought that three days had been enough to let her adjust to the idea of her moving to the manor, he was wrong. She continued to be sullen, and all he wanted to do at that moment was to pacify her. He had told her (at length) about what to expect from his adoptive family, that in spite of their “quirks”, they were the best company. “They’ll adore you,” he said cheerily, wiping away a single tear that betrayed her deeper feelings.

It was almost nine o’clock in the evening. She and Roy had shared a long goodbye hug an hour earlier, and he promised to visit her at the manor every chance he got, before speeding off to respond to an ongoing robbery. Her bags sat neatly by the doorway. He had arranged for Dick to pick her up; his adoptive brother had access to the Batmobile and was only glad to do it.

She avoided his gaze, staring blankly at the door. “Hey, hey,” he said, lifting her chin up so she could face him, “You’ll have everything you’ll need. Plus, your cooking can give Alfred a run for his money. So, no more crying, okay? I’d bring you there myself, but remember Sully? The bartender from Wilson’s at the Narrows? Well, he tipped me off -”

Deep brown eyes stared back at him, searching his, stopping all thought. “How about you, Jason?” He could have melted right there and then. “Who’s going to make you waffles in the morning? Wait up for you on patrol nights?” This was what she had been worried about? “Make sure you come home in one piece?” Home. He loved the sound of it coming from her lips.

“Uh, Roy?” he said, earning him a slap on the arm and a giggle he had been craving for three days. He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ll come by. Okay?” And that was all she could hope for, knowing his standing with his family.

Feeling brazen all of a sudden, she tiptoed, laying her hands on his strong chest, angling her mouth to his – Beep. Beep. “I’m s-sorry, I need to get this,” he huffed, scooping his phone out of his pocket. She bit her lip, a little embarrassed, but also excited at the thought of what could have happened. What was she doing? “He’s outside.” His words and the sound of him grabbing her bags brought her out of her thoughts.

Once Jason buckled her safely onto the passenger seat of the Batmobile, she was able to get a better look at the driver. He was not the charming twenty-something-year-old man with wavy hair in black and blue tights that Jason originally described to her, but a… ten-year-old? She noted the red and yellow uniform with the signature “R” logo on the left breast. Robin?

“Damian?” Jason said, pushing his head further into the car through the window. “Hey, buddy!” He chuckled, attempting to ruffle his younger brother’s hair. This was swiftly deflected by the latter, a scowl forming below the green domino mask.

“I’m thirteen, Todd. Stop treating me like a child. And, stop acting like one. Tt.” Ima found their exchange adorable.

“The old Bat finally let you take his sweet ride for a spin, huh?” Jason said, observing the interior, silently impressed with all the improvements since he last sat there. “Where’s -”

“Grayson has emergency business in Blüdhaven. And, Drake would only get to drive this before me over my dead body.”

“He can probably have that arranged.”

“Tt.”

Jason laughed out loud. He missed this.

“If you want to make sure she’s alright, you better see her there yourself, Todd. Don’t expect us to babysit her while you try get yourself killed again with your idiocy.” A beat. “The manor is literally fifteen minutes away.”

Like father, like son. If that was Damian’s way of letting him know he was missed in return, then he would take it.

“I missed you too, buddy.” With that, Jason gave Ima one last reassuring smile as the window slowly closed between them. She watched as he walked away from the car, helmet in hand. Please stay safe.

“So, you must be Todd’s girlfriend.”

This was going to be a long trip.

Wayne Manor. She was in freaking Wayne Manor. Taken there in the Batmobile. By no less than Robin. She had heard of the place, of course. Who had not? It was as much a part of Gotham’s landscape as… crime was. But, to breathe the air within its premises, to step on the manicured lawn firsthand –

“Close your mouth. Fireflies might get in,” Damian said, smirking. He had been silent for most of the trip, with the occasional “Tt” when they encountered a stray cat, muttering something about how they should be in shelters. He was a surprisingly smooth driver for his age. Did he even have a license?

He was probably side-eyeing her. As awkward as it had been, she was too preoccupied by his earlier question – rather, statement – about her being Jason’s girlfriend. What was she to him? Neither of them ever brought it up while she was staying at the safe house. When he looked at her, she was almost certain that he saw her as more than a friend. They had held hands in moments of vulnerability, but never kissed. It was not like it never crossed her mind…

“I-I’m sorry,” Ima replied, sheepishly. “It’s just that this is… incredible.”

Damian scoffed. She still could not see his eyes behind the mask, but she could feel him observing her through his peripheral vision. They were standing on the dimly lit driveway, waiting for Alfred to open the majestic double doors. Jason had told her about a more traditional entryway for the Batmobile (something about a waterfall), but she did not mind this one; the alternative sounded nauseating.

Light shone on the ground, indicating that the doors were finally open. A bald-headed sixty-something-year-old gentleman wearing a vested suit with a tail stood at the entrance.

“Pennyworth,” the young master said with his chin up, walking past Alfred into the manor.

“Master Damian,” the bald-headed butler replied with a British accent, unperturbed by the rudeness. His eyes then fell on her as she struggled to get her heavy luggage onto the first step.

“Leave it be, young miss. I’ll handle it.” He lifted the bag with a single hand, without so much as a wince; his age definitely belied his strength. “Forgive Master Damian’s demeanor. He’s quite… special.” Was trained to be an assassin from the age of three. Had a grandfather set on wiping out a third of human population, a mother who tried to kill him, and… well, Batman for a father. She was not offended the least bit. If anything, she wanted to hug him. She understood what it was like to have one’s childhood stripped away.

“I have prepared Master Jason’s room for you, Miss… Ima, is it?” Alfred said. She nodded with a smile. Although his tone was formal, he radiated a fatherly warmth. Or, perhaps, it was just bias from what Jason had told her about him? “He expressly stated that you stay there. He is hoping that it would make you feel more at home.”

She followed him inside and the light from the crystal chandeliers almost blinded her. The receiving area alone deserved a standing ovation for its beauty. The high domed ceiling, covered in what she assumed from her readings were eighteenth century paintings, was reminiscent of the Sistine Chapel. Victorian furniture. Her reflection on the marble flooring. The smell of sandalwood –

Alfred cleared his throat, bringing her out of her internal revelry.

He led her up the stairs and into a hallway lined with medieval artifacts, such as a propped up knight’s suit, and huge portraits of who she assumed to be Wayne ancestors. There was door after door after door, and she wondered why there was so many rooms and what was behind each of them. They turned a corner, revealing the Wayne family crest engraved onto a wooden panel. More portraits lined the walls, but this time, they were photographs, rather than paintings. She easily recognized Damian, even without the mask. The chin up and confident wide-legged stance gave him away. Whoever the others were, they were quite handsome, all clearly very young at the time the photos were taken.

Black hair, blue eyes. Black hair, blue eyes. Black hair – her heart skipped a beat. She knew the grin anywhere. It looked like he was in the middle of genuflecting, surrounded by auburn leaves, picking up a particularly large one he wanted to show to the camera.

“The first day of autumn.” Alfred was standing beside her. “I took that photograph.”

After a warm shower, she started unpacking her things, only to find that she did not know where to put anything. There was just too many storage options for her measly belongings; Jason’s room could fit three of her old home in the Narrows. In the end, she decided to keep them on a chaise lounge near the king-sized bed. She took tattered baby picture of her younger brother out her wallet and set it down on one of the nightstands. “I miss you, Kai.”

She laid down, burying her face into the feather-filled pillows. Hoping that they still smelled of Jason. She then checked her cellphone for the eighth time that night. Where are you? Jason had given her the phone, which had been encrypted in such a way that he could call it without having it traced back to him. This made it impossible for her to call him back. “In case something happened, I don’t want bad guys tracing either of us through each other.” The arrangement kept her on edge, but she understood that it was necessary. She wondered if he did it to keep her from constantly checking in on him, too. Like a girlfriend would. “Stop it, Ima,” she scolded herself at the thought.

Apart from Alfred, no one else seemed to be at home by the time she came down for dinner. It came as no surprise to her, since she was now living with a family of vigilantes who had unconventional night lives. Besides, it was no different from living with Jason and Roy. Except it was lonelier.

She was relieved to find the Brit waiting patiently for her by an open fireplace; otherwise, she would have had no idea how to find the dining room. “Ah, there you are. I thought you had a morbid preference for starvation,” he said stoically, “not unlike some members of this family.”

HYPNOTISED: A Jason Todd/Red Hood x OC Fan Fic

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

Seven

He had been patrolling for sixteen hours straight and decided to take a much needed break. Well, partially. This was a stakeout. Three weeks had passed since the warehouse incident and not a day went by when he was not on Black Mask’s trail. The creep was becoming increasingly difficult to track, even for the Bat family’s standards, so he was patient with every lead, no matter how small.

And in spite of having already gathered a mountain of evidence, he was hungry for more, or at least enough to lock Black Mask and his crew away for far longer than the crooked justice system allowed. Enough so that, this time, the powerful Gothamites could no longer bear the shame of their alliances with him. This was personal.

Bruce would be proud. He chuckled at the thought that he was being more “detective” than “brawler”. Maybe the old man did rub off on him, after all.

“She checks out.” Speak of the…

He almost fell off the gargoyle he had been straddling atop one of Gotham’s ancient banks. His favorite. With his helmet off, he was about to chomp on a braaibroodtjies, when a familiar black cape whooshed in beside him. Only a few people could sneak up on him like that, and they all belonged to one family.

“Wh-”

“That young African-American waitress you’ve been harboring in your safe house,” Bruce said gruffly, eyes firmly planted on the streets below and setting up a scoping device on the concrete balcony within seconds using short, well-practiced motions. His swiftness would still put men half his age to shame.

“Wait, what? How’d you…?”

“Why does this still surprise you, Red Hood?”

Jason shook his head. This was Batman he was talking to.

“That’s, um… good to know. Thanks.”

“Although, I’m surprised you didn’t look into her background yourself.”

“I guess I’ve just been… preoccupied.” He did not have it in him to admit the real reason for it: he felt wrong going behind her back like that. He trusted her, was maybe even in… never mind. He did not need to hear another lecture on how emotional attachments affect “the misson”.

“Hn.” Maybe he already figured it out, anyway.

“The bounty. Which is why you and Arsenal are working together again.” It was not a question, rather a statement of fact.

Jason still had connections to the criminal underworld, which was how he had gotten wind of Black Mask’s ominous offer: his and Roy’s heads for a measly billion dollars each. How original. A death threat was nothing new to him. Neither was death itself. If anything, he was more worried about his best friend.

“Yeah. Good ol’ Roy. We’ve got an international rogues gallery after our asses.” How many superheroes could brag about that?

When Bruce remained silent, he continued. “So, I guess Luke filled you in on the warehouse incident.” This face-to-face conversation was long overdue, with Bruce having just come back from a mission with the new Justice League of America he was mentoring.

“You were careless.” What, no cigar for not dying that time?

“We improvised.” He had only been following Batman’s no-kill rule. He wanted to argue that showing mercy was what got them into that mess. But this was not the time to sass. “I’m surprised you didn’t sic your new Watchtower pals on us.” Okay, maybe just a bit.

"It looked like you two had it under control.” Ha. Right. Wait, did he hear that right? Apparently, Jason was not the only one uncharacteristically trusting as of late.

“See, I’m not so sure about that anymore. This girl, Ima… She saw everything, Bruce. She didn’t mean to, had no idea the exchange was happening. She’s innocent, but I doubt that matters to a sociopath like Roman. There may not be a bounty on her head right now -”

“He may want to deal with her himself.” Bruce’s assessment made him cringe. Over his dead-again body.

Bruce listened patiently as Jason gave him updates, while still monitoring a local pharmacy for any suspicious activity. Although he did not get an invitation to the stakeout, he was grateful that his former Robin did not push him away this time. In spite of having been openly welcomed back into the family, Jason kept his distance, haunted by his past mistakes. He had a hard time accepting their affection, believing he did not deserve it just yet. Knowing that made Bruce’s heart ache.

The last time he saw Jason smiling the way he was now, as if he had not a burden in the world, was before Joker… No. He wanted to tell his son that he was proud of him for having outgrown (most of) his demons, for having become so much more than he gave himself credit for. That he loved him. But there were more pressing matters at the moment. And he did not want to scare him away.

“… And she and Roy are getting along really well now, which is great! Less headaches for me. Plus, I mean, it’s not like it’s hard to like her, y’know what I mean? She’s pretty, and silly, and – and -”

Jason felt his cheeks turn red. Shut up.

“So, yeah, she’s great,” Jason finished sheepishly. How long was he gushing?

He cleared his throat before becoming serious once again. If Bruce were at all annoyed by the waste of time, the man sure hid it well. Wait, was he grinning?

Jason slowly ran his hand through his hair, and sighed. “I don’t mind being on the run. I’ve been doing it almost my entire adult life. It’s bad enough that Roy got dragged into it, too. Well, okay, no – he gets half of the blame. But, Ima? I don’t know how I’m supposed to protect her without keeping her a prisoner in that safe house. Her brother gets murdered in cold blood before her own eyes, and she can’t even visit his grave to mourn him. I’m sure she gets lonely, too. And if anything were to happen to me, I don’t know how I’ll be able to -”

“She can stay.”

“ – keep her… What?”

“At the manor.”

“The manor?”

“Indefinitely.”

Jason was rendered speechless. Just like that?

“I’ll trust her because I trust you, Jason. You’ve always had good instincts, only you used to act brashly upon them.”

“Bruce, I’m -”

“Not that person anymore,” the older man finished for him. “Besides, it could give you an excuse to drop by more often.”

It took Jason all of two seconds trying to process what he had just been told, until the sound of a grappling hook whizzing past him brought him back to reality. The cowl and cape were gone. Classic Bruce.

Oh, the old man had conveniently left the scoping device, too.

“Thanks, B.”

HYPNOTISED: A Jason Todd/Red Hood x OC Fan Fic

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

Six

As the last drops of cold water seeped into the shower drain, Jason felt the soreness of his muscles go with them. He had gotten into a scuffle with a few teenagers from the Jokerz gang during last night’s patrol. They had hit him with their crowbars. He had scoffed before swiftly incapacitating all five of them, but also felt sorry that such young, impressionable minds chose to follow in the Joker’s footsteps. He stepped out of the shower, taking one last look at the mirror before heading out. Today, he just wanted to clear his head.

Ima had been patiently waiting for him by the kitchen island, Gone With the Wind open on one hand, its pages yellowed and tattered. He must have loved this book. She looked up to smile at him; he gave a small one back. He sat across from her, picking at her omelet with his fingers. “Hey!” she said, swatting at his thieving hand, “Yours is by the stove, Mr. Robbin’ Robin.” He laughed at her wordplay. “But I like yours. I like anything of yours.” If it were not for her chocolate skin, he would have seen the furious blush that crept up her face. Their giggling died down, taken over by an awkward silence. He cleared his throat, and she followed suit, each avoiding the gaze of the other.

Then she leaned over and gently tugged at his white streak of hair. “Hey!” he said mockingly, playfully evading her reach. “Who’s a ‘Robbin’ Robin’ now?” But she did not laugh. Instead, she looked at him with childlike curiosity. She was so beautiful in that moment that it took all of his willpower not to go over to her side, lift her off the chair, and… No.

“Where did this come from?” Her question caught him off guard. His mind scrambled to find a way to divert her attention, but he knew she would not let up unless he answered her. At first he hesitated to tell her the truth, then realized that if he truly wanted to get to know her, she also had to get to know the real him. So, after taking a deep breath, he began telling her the story of his life. He spared no important detail, from his days as an orphan to his life as Robin and beyond. To his surprise, she did not wince when he came to the supernatural parts or his violent and vengeful past. Instead, she looked at him with sympathy, wiping away a few stray tears he was not aware he was shedding.

She, in turn, told him about how her mother died from a drug overdose and how her father followed shortly, having drowned his sorrows in whiskey bottles. At thirteen, she was left to fend for her nine-year-old brother. They grew so close that she almost treated him like a son. When she had caught the mistress at an orphanage slapping Kai, she escaped with him, vowing to protect him at all costs. They lived off the streets, until she found work at the diner. She once dreamed of becoming a journalist, but neither she nor her brother could afford to finish schooling. She smiled sadly at the memory of Kai and her lost dream.

It had been cathartic for both of them. And as the sun set, the conversation got lighter. Shared interests. Favorite TV shows. Previous relationships. Future dreams.

If only he could tell her that she was his.

HYPNOTISED: A Jason Todd/Red Hood x OC Fan Fic

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

Five

He could get used to it: domesticity.

Ima adjusted to living with him and Roy a little better each day, and the latter had clearly grown fond of her. “Starfire never cooked this good!” he had exclaimed, mouth full of chakchouka, during one of the rare times all three of them had breakfast together. “Thank you. My bibi taught me how to make it,” she said shyly but with a hint of pride, remembering how her grandmother used to sing as she cooked the traditional African stew. She inherited the habit, and the one time that Jason caught her made her blush furiously.

The trips to Big Belly Burger during patrol nights were happening less and less, too. Jason savored every packed meal she prepared for him, even the one slathered in shrimp sauce. The EpiPen saved the day, so there was no point telling her what happened. Her bright, warm smiles were a treasured commodity for him and he did not want to give her any reason to replace them with worry lines.

When he came home, she was usually waiting for him, reading one of his books on the couch or kitchen island. She would ask about his day, but not demand an answer, then give him a once over as if to check if all his pieces were intact. He would do the same, even if he knew she had spent the entire day in the safe house.

Playful banter over cups of coffee came easily to them, and her laughter made him dizzy with happiness. But the moments of silence between them were just as soothing. Reassuring. As were their touches, subconscious and instinctive at first, then deliberate and careful, becoming more confident as the days passed.

Yet he still slept on the couch, even when Ima insisted that she did not mind sharing the bed with him; she trusted him. But what if he could not trust himself with her? He would not tell her that, of course. He would say that he still believed in old-fashioned values, which he did, anyway.

Although, he did make exceptions, such as when the nightmares came and refused to let her sleep. He would lay down beside her, reading her an excerpt from Shakespeare or another of her favorites, until she dozed off. But even then, he would not lay a finger on her. He was content watching her sleep peacefully.

Sometimes she drove him crazy, grabbing his hand when he least expected it, pulling him into a makeshift dance floor in the living room, which had been cleared of weaponry. Dancing was never in Jason’s repertoire of gravity-defying skills, as he would remind her over and over. But she would always have none of it. She would shush him, quietly place his hand on her waist, pull him closer with one of hers, and hold his other hand with her other one. Any trace of shyness gone. Slow 1940s music. Dim lighting. Dilated pupils. Racing heartbeats. “This was Poppa and Momma’s favorite song.”

He could get used to this.