Chapter Text
Jason moved easily through Crime Alley, only occasionally slipping in his ill-gotten and oversized boots, his primary aim to get into the main district and flee back to his hole in the wall.
He sported a blossoming bruise on his forehead, another new addition to his bruised complexion. His dyed and greasy black hair he tucked beneath a hood. He hunkered in on himself, fists shoved deep into his jeans, backpack jostling. It was yet another typical night for the teenager, as he once again slunk through back alleys with fingers itching to relieve civilians of their valuables.
A grunt and scuffle echoed deep within the alley. The noise came from overhead. Jason scurried on quicker. He couldn’t quite tell if he was moving towards or away from the fray.
Body taut and ready for trouble, Jason almost screamed when his boot scuffed a tyre. It was only then did he lift his eyes from his laces and stare wide eyed, open mouthed, disbelieving, at the armoured vehicle haphazardly parked. The Batmobile stood grandiose and alone within the mouth, and exit, to Crime Alley. It’s tinted windows spoke of unobtainable affluence.
Jason gingerly ran his fingers over the tyre he had kicked, marvelling at the thick tread. He dropped into a squat, his backpack now open at his feet. His favourite, and most reliable weapon and tool called for him. Jason pulled the tyre iron free with barely a thought. Consequences be damned; if he could steal a tyre or two, from the Batmobile no less, he could live like a king and actually buy himself a pizza. His mouth watered.
The curved metal pipe was warm in his hands. Jason stretched to apply it to the wheel, smiling when it locked in place. He began to apply pressure.
A whistle split the air, an inhuman cry. Jason swivelled his head, neck straining to scour the smog high above.
A mass of black slammed against the Batmobile. Jason scrambled backwards, a yelp lodged in his throat. The Batmobile shuddered under the heap atop it. Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away from the crumpled body atop the roof, with twisted limbs that jerked and snapped in the throes of death.
Yellow goggles swivelled to stare. The body lurched upwards, still seated, its neck grinding quickly back in place.
Jason screamed. He threw himself to his feet, tyre iron clutched to his chest. He stumbled away, whispering apologies.
The stranger rolled from the roof, landing in a crouch. No longer a body but a leather wrapped man adorned with knives and claws.
Jason had never believed in tall tales, had never had a parent hold him close and whisper stories to keep him in line. But everyone had heard of the Court of Owls. So omnipotent they couldn’t truly exist. Yet in that moment of staring hard into yellow lenses, taking stock of the golden tipped claws and owl motif; Jason wholeheartedly understood.
The Talon didn’t move towards Jason yet its head tilted as if questioning the young man’s appearance. Jason watched it pivot on a heel, claws brandished, and knew the fight was about to get uglier.
Batman dropped into the alley, a swift kick sending the Talon into the gloom. Jason couldn’t move.
‘Do not steal my tyres,’ Batman growled, stalking away from Jason as he shivered in fear.
Jason gasped hard, pulled from his trance. He followed on hollow legs, numbly watching the two silhouetted figures battle. The Talon leapt high, arching overhead, using the brick walls as vantage points. He reminded Jason of an aerial-acrobatics troupe he had once watched in awe. Batman went low, fighting dirty as the Talon pushed him harder.
Black droplets leaked beneath the Talon’s cracked lenses. It smeared along Batman’s jaw as the Talon desperately batted at the crusaders face, claws gone.
With a feral growl Batman had won; he smashed his cowl down hard on the Talon. Jason flinched at the headbutt. The Talon tumbled backwards.
‘Step away from it. Now!’ Batman barked, advancing like a speeding train.
The gravelly voice brokered no argument, but Jason knew in his bones that when someone fell that usually meant the end of the fight. Yet Batman stormed onwards, cloak swishing, his blackened mouth a thin line.
Jason brandished the tyre iron like a sword and swung it experimentally. Batman stopped, staring. The Talon lay between them, chest still.
‘D-don’t come any closer!’ Jason heard himself cry. He saw the tyre iron bounce harmlessly off Batman’s outstretched arm. ‘Stop!’.
‘Kid, you don’t understand the da-'
Batman fell silent and Jason allowed himself a small smile. Had he honestly silenced Batman?
‘With me-' the muffled voice was hot against his neck, desperate and low. Jason could feel the press of steel to his throat before he understood that death had snared him. ‘With me!’ the Talon continued, one arm snaked around Jason’s waist like a lover, the second tight around his throat. The knife never wavered.
Jason hadn’t even seen the Talon move from the space between him and Batman. He shivered against the hard body behind him, a unexpected chill settling in his stomach.
‘Let the brat go, Talon. Your fight is with me'.
The Talon slipped backwards, jerking Jason with it.
‘Hey!’ Jason cried, hands scrabbling at the thick arm. ‘Dick!’ he spat, clawing desperately.
The body behind him flinched, Jason could feel the movement in his spine. He froze against the arm trapping him, too scared to breathe.
‘What?’ the Talon croaked, grip tightening.
Jason flushed. His mouth opened before his mind could shut it. ‘I said..you’re a dick! Dickhead. Let me go. I tried to stop him!’. Jason thrashed then, confused and angry. It was only when the faintest of noises tickled his ear did he stop.
Jason watched in horror as the blade at his throat flew through the air, stopping only in Batman’s upper thigh. The blade sunk deep. Batman slid backwards.
The Talon whirled and fled with Jason pinned to his chest. At the lip of the alley Jason squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the thud of movement as he was taken further into the underbelly.
Time was nothing as he moved through the darkness, stomach churning and palms sweaty. At some point he was slung over the things shoulder with a grunt, and the pair moved faster. He imagined this was how it felt to close your eyes on a rollercoaster, never quite knowing when the next drop would take you.
‘Open eyes.’
Jason obeyed the order, blinking upwards quickly into the night sky. He sat unscathed, and only annoyed, atop a rooftop. He huddled behind the chimney stacks against the biting wind. The figure crouched before him, too far to reach, its goggled gaze cracked.
‘What. The. Fuck?’ Jason breathed, breathe short and giddy. He flexed his fingers and wiggled his toes, alive but not alone. ‘Why did you kidnap me?’ he shouted, jumping to his feet. The anger came easily, spurred on by his embarrassment. ‘Where the hell am I? Who are you? Why the fuck was Batman kicking your arse?’.
The Talon shifted slowly before standing sharply. It towered over Jason, who at seventeen was still too undernourished to grow any taller.
‘Batman. Dangerous.’
Jason guwaffed.
‘Hiding,’ the avian like creature continued in a rasp.
Jason sunk to his haunches, not trusting his legs. The wind cried around him. The Talon stood impassively, immobile against the breeze.
‘I-I can’t stay here,’ Jason said. ‘I need to get home. Away from you. Away from Batman'. Jason moved from the chimney stacks. He missed the familiarity of his backpack. He glanced around the open air quickly. ‘I need to get down. Please, just get me down. Safely. And I’ll never tell anyone about this. Batman could beat me for all I care, and I still wouldn’t say anything!’.
The Talon nodded stiffly. ‘Not target.’
‡‡‡
Jason collapsed onto the mouldy mattress, hard, burying his face in the stained fabric. The door to his current squat squealed shut and he allowed himself a single tear. A lone frustrated tear for having lost his two only possessions, aside from the clothes on his back. The mattress wasn’t even his.
‘Fuck. Off!’ he grumbled into the mattress, knowing the Talon lingered in the room. He was too tired to feel scared, too irate to worry about a knife in his spine. He rolled to sit and glared at the unwanted guest now that he was relatively safe. ‘Can’t you see I’m having a moment? I don’t even have anything to nick. So just go.’
‘No,’ the Talon said, sitting against the door. It tore the mask free with a sigh and tossed it into a corner. ‘No security.’
Jason inhaled sharply at the spidery blue veins encircling the eyes, luminous branches of colour that snaked towards golden irises. The Talon blinked slowly, pupils becoming slits.
‘Your eyes are yellow!’ Jason said dumbly.
The Talons lips quirked. ‘Yes,’ it replied with no inflection to the affirmation. The Talon’s face became impassive. ‘You,’ it rasped, brow wrinkling. ‘Blue. Green.’
Jason ducked his head, cheeks warming. He shook himself and frowned back. This was his domain.
The Talon looked young, older than himself but young enough to be unaffected by wrinkles or crow’s feet. He too had short black hair, sweaty and unruly. The Talon looked lithe and coiled beneath the tight leather suit, despite seemingly at ease against the door.
'I guess you really are a Talon. I always thought they were dumb bed time stories. For snot nosed kids who had it too good. But you really are here.’
The Talon didn't move to acknowledge the statement.
‘Why are you still here?’
The Talon shrugged a shoulder, pressing backwards against the door.
‘You talk an awful lot,’ Jason hissed, but the stranger didn’t rise to the barb. Jason slapped a hand to his forehead, his bruise throbbing. ‘Look. Dick,’ the Talon seemed to lean forwards at the words. ‘Thanks for not letting Batman eat me. But also, no thanks for the knife,’ he mimed slitting his throat, ‘and the kidnapping. What’s your game exactly?’
‘Batman. Mission. Not you.’
‘Woah hold on…’ Jason edged closer, now sitting at the edge of the bare mattress. He pointed unafraid. ‘I saw an opportunity for easy money. You fell onto the Batmobile and fucked my plans up. Are you easing me into some false sense of security before taking me back to your nest?’
The Talon searched the room lazily, movements mechanic and snappy. Jason was about to entertain the idea of climbing out the window when the Talon spoke slowly.
‘Dick.’
Jason laughed then. ‘Excuse you?’
The Talon nodded as though it were absorbing the words, mulling them over. ‘No,’ it amended, tapping it’s chest and nodding back at Jason. ‘Said Dick.’
Jason chewed his lip. ‘I called you a dick.’
The Talon unpeeled his gloves carefully and tossed the remaining blades aside. He placed his hands in his laps and crossed his legs. Jason wasn’t sure if he should feel comforted by that or insulted.
‘Is…is that your name or something?’
A ghost of a smile tugged eerily at the Talon’s stony face. ‘No,’ it whispered. ‘Talon. Gray Son.’
Jason felt like he’d missed the joke. He shifted awkwardly. ‘Kinda rhymes with my name. I’m Jason.’ He clenched his fists. ‘Jason Todd, uh, if we’re being formal.’ He opened his arms to the single room, naked bar the mattress and tattered curtains. ‘My humble abode.’
‘Nest fallen. Batman.’
Jason crossed his arms, resisting the newest urge to pick up the knives and run his fingers across the blades.
‘Batman destroyed your home?’ Jason asked, pulled into the conversation once again.
The Talon tapped a short rhythm into his knees, ignoring the question.
‘Nest, I mean. Batman destroyed your nest, and now. Now you want revenge?’ Jason yawned into his hand, not meaning to, and pulled his hoodie tighter around himself.
‘Last mission,’ the Talon mused. He tapped his chin, a finger tracing blue lines. ‘Then sleep.’
‘I hear ya. Need some shut eye myself,’ Jason crinkled his nose, eyes watering at swallowing another yawn. ‘But I don’t know or trust you….’
The Talon, Gray Son, gave a small smile as though mirroring what he thought a smile should look like. ‘Jason,’ he said like gravel crunching underfoot, ‘not mission.’