Chapter Text
When Batman lost Robin, he didn't just lose a partner. He lost a son and a part of his heart. Bruce Wayne lost his second eldest, Jason Todd. The boy he found in Crime Alley trying to steal the Batmobile's tires had grown into a strong teenager. Who got upset when something didn't go his way. Who whined and swatted at Dick's hands when Dick ruffled his hair and cuddled him, who always made it first to the dinner table when Alfred announced dinner was ready.
Bruce had lost many things in his life. He lost friends, lovers, and parents, but nothing could prepare him for losing a son. Bruce remembered crying into Jason's cold chest after finding his limp body after the explosion. He remembered how Dick's face dropped when Batman arrived at the cave with Jason's bloodied and beaten body in his arms. He pretended he couldn't hear how Alfred sobbed in Jason's room each night when he dusted. They all missed him. Losing a child was like losing a part of you that you could never get back. When Jason died that night, he took half of Bruce's heart and sanity with him. It forced Bruce to do things he never thought he would do. For weeks Batman hunted down the Joker and beat the son of a bitch to a pulp, Batman broke his ribs, broke Joker's nose, and left him with a broken arm and a broken leg, but Bruce couldn't bring himself to kill him. He felt that if he killed the Joker, he'd kill the last living piece of Jason that there was left.
Then Tim came along, and slowly Bruce started to heal, but he never forgot. The fear of losing another son whispered in the back of his head. Tim was not Jason, he would never be Jason, but that didn't stop Bruce from slipping up and calling him Jason. He remembered when he first slipped up, Tim's eyes behind his domino mask widened with surprise. After that, Tim started to wonder who Jason was. Bruce didn't stop him from finding Jason's room, even though he wanted to. Dick didn't feel the same, though. With heavy eyes full of anger and protection, Dick shut Jason's door, staring at Tim like he was an intruder, not a brother. It was Dick who told Tim all about Jason, and Tim wanted to be like Jason.
When Jason Todd woke up from the dead, wrapped in bandages, he jolted up in the green water, screaming and clawing at his flesh. His flesh burned, and his eyes were a bright green and crazed as he desperately looked around. There were figures dressed in black with masks on. They slowly approached him. Unknown hands slowly reached for him. He couldn't take it, it burned, and everything was too much. Shoving past all the heavy bodies, throwing them down out of his way, he screamed and ran. Jason ran and ran until he could no longer run.
He was huddled against a tree when he heard footsteps approach him, burying his face deeper into his arms as Jason rocked himself while he waited for the worst to come. But it never did. Instead, someone kneeled next to him. Gentle hands touched his bare and scarred back.
"Jason... It is okay, you are safe," She spoke. Jason slowly lifted his head. Green eyes met emerald eyes and a kind face of a woman dressed in green and gold, with tan skin and long brown hair. She took off the green shawl wrapped around her shoulders and wrapped it around Jason's form.
"Come, you must eat and get rest," She spoke, more stern this time as she helped Jason to his feet. His legs felt like they would give out, but she wrapped an arm around him.
Later he found out the woman's name was Talia Al Ghul, the bloody daughter of Ra's Al Ghul. Ha, who would have thought Jason would end up in the hands of the Al Ghuls? Jason didn't. Talia was kind to him, but Ra's saw Jason as a dog who needed to be on a leash. With an iron collar around his neck and chains drilled into the wall, Jason sat silently for days, weeks, and months. In the corner of a large room, decorated with furniture of green and gold. A large bed lay in front of him, too far for him to reach. The chain hooked to the collar kept him from straying too far from his spot, he could stand and pace, but that's all he could do. Servants would come into the room daily, holding golden trays of food and water. They were afraid of Jason. He was quiet and always thinking, with sharp, glowing green eyes staring deep into their souls. Someone who sat huddled in a corner. Quiet, patient, was one to be cautious around. Yet There were many times when Jason would lash out, screaming as he bared his sharpened canines and thrashed around like a crazed animal with rabies. They learned that if they sat the tray near Jason and ran away, the chances of hostility rising became less, but never zero. One servant, in particular, learned that zero was not a number that lived in Jason's broken mind. She lingered too long and left the bedroom with a fractured arm. Later that day, Jason learned from whispering voices outside the room that Ra's had killed the servant for showing such weakness. He didn't care. He only cared about the meals and getting the damn collar off his neck that was choking him.
It was rare for Jason to see Ra's, but when Ra's sought out Jason, it never meant anything good. Jason barely slept in this place, if he could sleep at all. He was wide away with heavy dark circles under his eyes when he heard two pairs of different footsteps echo down the hall and to the room's closed door.
"Father, please, he is not ready! His mental state is not prepared for this yet," Talia started. She stood beside Ra's as she held the knob of the door as a way to keep Ra's out.
"Do not stand in my way, Daughter. Know your place. Do not question me again," Talia sucked in a breath, biting her tongue as she moved out of the way. Ra's opened the large gold door and walked inside. His long green mantle dragged behind him as he approached Jason with no caution. Jason glanced up at the man. Jason didn't show any signs of lashing out. He only needed one reminder of what happened the last time he lunged at Ra's. The man dressed in green had beat him, raising his voice to Jason and leaving scars.
Ra's looked over him, poking his cane at Jason's arms and stomach. Jason blinked at the man, trying to figure out what he wanted.
"Has he shown any signs of speaking?" Ra's let his cane rest on the ground, turning his attention to Talia.
"No," She spoke, glancing at Jason, who met her eyes. There was something sad in her eyes, but it left as quickly as it came.
"Bring Damian in. Maybe he can coax him into speaking," Ra's hummed, glancing back at Jason before turning his back to him.
"But Father- Damian is a child! He is not even seven years old. Jason could hurt him-" Talia stepped forward, anger written on her face, but she was quickly stopped by Ra's.
"And? If he dies, you can make another. You still have Wayne's DNA," Ra's's gaze was cold. Jason could feel the venom in his voice. Talia looked stunned. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open.
"Yes, Father... I understand," Dipping her head down, Talia stared down at the stone ground, biting her lip to keep herself from biting back at Ra's's rule. Ra's left the room, and Talia lingered with her fists close and shaking. She breathed and turned her back to Jason, stopping at the door and glancing back at the chained man once more before leaving and shutting the gold door behind her.
For the next week, Ra's had Jason put through training. Ra's wanted to build a warrior out of him, even if Talia was heavily against it due to Jason's mental state holding together by a thread. There were many times when the training became too much for Jason to handle, causing him to go into a fit of unpredictable rage. Talia watched from the glass windows in the sparring room as Jason screamed and brutally murdered his trainer. Jason sat next to the cut-up and beaten body, hugging his knees close to his chest, ignoring the blood splattered on his face and coating his hands. He rocked himself back and forth, burying his face into his knees as the buzzing in his ears got louder. The PTSD of his death was slowly closing in on him. Jason didn't know why he was breathing and alive, and he didn't know how to control the burning rage he felt. He whined like a child, tearing off his shirt and clawing at his flesh. Jason burned- It burned. He could feel the fire of the explosion against his skin. He could hear Joker's laughs.
"Jason, Jason stop it," Talia opened the sparring room door and rushed to Jason's side. She knelt and tried to touch him, but he started screaming, pushing her away, and banged his head against the black mat.
"Jason! Stop it!" She cried, getting up and reaching for him. Grabbing his form and pulling him into an embrace. Jason struggled against her, his screams became sobs as he desperately tried to flee from her, but eventually, he stopped moving. He lay there with his cheek smooshed against her chest, listening to her heartbeat as broken and soft sobs left his lips. Talia shushed him, petting his hair and letting him cling to her. The smell of blood was in the air, filling Jason's nose and lungs. He hated it. The scent reminded him of his death. Jason's tired eyes closed, and his body became limp as he drifted off into a much-needed slumber.
Jason woke up to the sound of birds chirping, his eyes fluttered open, and he saw a beige ceiling looking down at him. His eyes felt heavy again. He lay on the bed in the bedroom where he stayed. The covers were over his tired frame, and he felt like the bed was a soft cloud under his sore muscles.
"Ah, you're awake," Talia spoke. She was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her kind green eyes looked over his face, a soft sigh leaving her lips as she brought her hand up from her side and gently ran her fingers through Jason's hair. He blinked as he watched her movements, leaning into her touch before drawing away to sit up.
Jason much liked the bed a lot more than the floor. He took to the window, watching the clouds go by as the sun shined into the green room. He no longer smelled blood, he did not burn. He was safe.
"Jason," he turned his attention to the tan woman who sat next to him. She held a damp white cloth in her hand. She reached for him once more, leaning her weight into the bed as she gently wiped down Jason's face of sweat and dry blood. There were times when she wondered if leaving Jason Todd to death's grasp would have been more merciful because the rage and fear in his once blue eyes that were now swirled with a Lazarus green haunted her. She's seen firsthand what the Lazarus Pit has done to people, and she saw the sanity leave Jason when he was resurrected.
"I'm sorry that this was your fate, Jason... Maybe I felt that I owed Bruce something... Please forgive me, you don't deserve this pain, but I promise it will get better," Talia whispered, caressing Jason's cheek with the cloth as she looked into his tired eyes.
"Dad..." Jason mumbled, he sounded like a robot, broken and beaten.
"Yes, your father. Sleep Jason," Talia laid him back against the bed. She stood and stared down at the man, watching as he closed his eyes and turned his back to her.