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Jason would like assume that someone with magical powers would have better spells in their arsenal, would have something cool and productive to give in a fight… He wanted to strangle whoever had decided that the only powers the latest hindrance to Gotham had was well…
“Hood?” Dick asked carefully, the NIghtwing suit a little baggy on the teenager who’d lost maybe ten years and a few inches in height. He looked similar to when Jason had died, maybe about 17 or so, the infuriating mullet he’d had back then had made a reapperance and any other time, Jason would have teased the shit out of his eldest brother for his style choices back then… But the situation wasn’t like that, wasn’t one where he could make a lighthearted joke and shrug things off, because the shitty wizard had been all boastful proclaiming he could turn them all back into teenagers with a nifty spell. Said nifty spell apparently turned them back to the age they lost their virginity and well, the wizard had been expecting four teenagers with gangly limbs and raging hormones. The irony was, he only partially got that. Bruce didn’t look that much younger, the Batsuit still fit him fine and if Jason didn’t know for a fact that Damian was Bruce’s biological kid, he’d have put money on Bruce still being a virgin.
So that left him and Tim. Tim who’d decked the wizard when he’d stared at Jason in shock, the light from the spell fading quickly and leaving Jason in this awkward situation, one unconscious wizard, an emotionally constipated Bat, a teenage Dick Grayson and Tim. Tim who hadn’t changed at all, who looked a little mortified but more so for Jason than himself, even if the wizard had revealed Tim’s state as a virgin.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Jason snapped, cringing to himself at the sound of his voice. It hadn’t broken yet, which he knew. Of course he knew. It’s not like he’d forgotten, even when he’d died and the Pit had brought back fuzzy memories at best. One thing he would struggle to ever forget was the years he’d spent on the streets, the years he’d spent before Bruce had found him stealing the tires of the Batmobile, before he’d been taken in, taken up Robin…
Tim had restrained the unconscious wizard and Bruce had applied a nifty inhibitor for the man's powers should he awaken. The next steps should have been simple, take him back to the cave, put him in a containment cell and get him to reverse the spell before shipping him off to the closest prison able to handle magicians with ill intent…
That should have been the case but everyone was too stuck on staring at Jason as he tried to wrap way too large clothes around his scrawny limbs. He’d been skinny back then, malnutrition and homelessness in Gotham did that to you, though even before his Mother had overdosed, he’d been small. They couldn’t afford much and what little they did get, Catherine used for drugs, unable to kick the habit, the sheer addiction, while Jason could only watch, hopelessly.
He’d been seven when she’d died and he’d run to escape the CPS, to escape the trafficking that occurred in Gotham’s system.
The street had been no better. He’d survived his first winter only by the kindness of the working girls and picking pockets. The only reason he’d made it to the next winter was because he’d been picked up by Mr Brad. Jason shivered to himself, wrapping the giant leather jacket around himself more. Even after all this time, Jason couldn’t call the man his own name with the stupid ‘Mr’ in front. He had, in the early days, but he’d quickly had it beaten into him that Mr Brad had to be referred to with respect, after all he’d taken Jason in when he needed help, he’d given him a roof and food and clothing and a job-
The job. Jason shivered again, unsure if it was the cold from the state of mild-undress he’d ended up in, his clothes hadn’t transformed after all, or if it was from the memories the transformation had brought back. Probably both.
“Jaylad.” Bruce rumbled, cape detached from his shoulders and wrapped around Jason’s form. He wanted to push the man away, to smack the pity from his face, the man who’d once been his Father before he’d let the Joker beat him to death. Instead, he sank, sagged into the safety of the cloak and let Bruce pick him up. Bruce hadn’t been able to pick Jason up for years.
“We’ve got this B. Have you…” Tim asked, giving them both a glance as he and Nightwing grabbed the wizard.
“Yes. Thank you.” Bruce replied, holding Jason close as his brothers hauled the magician away to the Batmobile. Bruce took an alternative route before ending up at Tim’s bike. It made sense, the Batmobile couldn’t fit them all and would be a better mode of transport for a prisoner than any of their bikes.
“Jaylad.” Bruce asked again, hoisting them onto the bike, Jason clinging to his front as Bruce rode carefully but with urgency. Jason trusted him, held on tight and stayed quiet, even when Bruce rumbled more words out, over the roar of the engine. He couldn’t hear any of it.
Jason had been 8 when Mr Brad had given him a job, one that left his knees sore and his jaw aching but gave him food and money and clothing that was rough but warm. He’d been just shy of 9 when he’d been promoted. Mr Brad had said he was impressed, that Jason was a popular choice among the clients, that they’d pay extra for more and that Jason would earn more in turn.
Jason had said no. Mr Brad had ignored him.
Jason barely noticed when they’d reached the cave, hardly payed attention to the fact the wizard was still knocked out and restrained in one of the cave’s cells, nor that Tim was nowhere to be seen, only Dick waited for them by the Batcomputer, scans already running on two vials of blood.
“Any luck?” Bruce asked. Dick shrugged.
“Too early to tell. Might get more joy when he wakes up.” Dick hooked a thumb over his shoulder and towards the cells. Jason was carefully put down onto the floor, still wrapped in the cloak.
“Dick could you maybe run and grab some of Damian’s clothes for Jason?” Bruce suggestion and Dick nodded, shooting Jason one last look before turning to head for the Manor, despite still being in his Nightwing uniform. If Alfred saw, Dick would get a lecture, but the circumstances perhaps owed some leniency. After all, Bruce didn’t imagine he’d ever have to dress his second eldest son in his youngest clothes.
“If you've quite finished... Stop babying me! I’m still me.” Jason snapped, because yes, he was a scrawny 8 year old but he still had his memories, he wasn’t helpless now, even if he had no muscle memory to back up his fighting technique.
“I’m not… I just thought you’d want to wear something that fitted better.” Bruce fumbled, because another thing the spell had brought back was the marks, endless marks on Jason’s skin from teeth and fingers from long ago. Bruce had to bite down any anger at the once that visibly bruised rings around Jason’s neck, fingers that had curled round such the small size and squeezed-
“Here.” Dick returned, passing the joggers and shirt to Jason who changed before them, not even bothering to hide. He ignored the way Dick’s gasp turned into muffled sobs, or the way Bruce’s jaw tightened until Jason was sure he could hear the Bat’s teeth grinding.
“Lil’ Wing-” Dick sobbed, because he’d always been the most emotional of them all. Jason swatted away any attempts from his eldest to cuddle him.
“Not a baby, Dickwing.” Jason snarked, voice still painfully high.
“I’m sorry, Jaylad.” Bruce rumbled, as the tests continued on the screen.
“Not your fault.” Jason shrugged, because he hadn’t met Bruce until he was 12. He’d never blamed Bruce for that at least. “You shut down his operation, you know?” Jason questioned, he’d been 10 by then, a seasoned professional at his job, no less willing then when he’d started, but he’d gotten better at pretending, at saying what they wanted to hear, moaning when he should and pretending it felt amazing when all Jason wanted to do was scrub at his skin until he felt any semblance of cleanliness again. Batman had closed the whole thing down, Mr Brad had been arrested and charged for running a child prostitution ring and all the kids had been seized by CPS. All except Jason who’d hid and fled into the night. He’d survived better then, survived without selling himself, he was smarter then, knew where to hide, knew where to avoid, knew which bins would have leftovers and which buildings would be empty. Two years later, Bruce found him stealing his tires. “You took out the whole ring when I was ten but I hid. They took all the other kids ‘cept me. Most of ‘em fell into a drug ring after.” Because of course, the system had taken in vulnerable kids, already partially modelled into obedient little slaves and used them for their benefit.
“Jason…” Dick whispered, horror painted on his face, because Jason had never told any of them. Of course he hadn’t. How would he have broached that with Bruce? Bruce, who Jason had thought had only taken him in to warm the Billionaire bed for the longest time, until he’d discovered the secrets he held, discovered Batman had taken him in and… By then, Jason was too scared to tell his new Father. Too scared to admit his own weakness. He was Robin and Robin couldn’t… He couldn’t…
So he hadn’t told Bruce, hadn’t even remotely hinted he’d been reduced to such things. And then he died. By the time he’d come back to Gotham, bigger and full of Pit Rage, his relationship with Bruce had been so strained that telling the Bat his past hadn’t even crossed his mind.
Now it was inescapable.
“S’fine, Dickface. It was years ago. He’s dead anyway.” Jason scoffed. One thing he’d done when he’d returned to Gotham as the Red Hood was track down Mr Brad. He was out of jail and while he wasn’t running child prostitution rings anymore, he was running a drug ring, using kids as runners and paying them in their own cut of bad batches. Jason had prolonged Mr Brad’s murder more than any of the other scum Jason killed that night. His head hadn’t made it into the final casting list in the Duffel Bag of Doom though, Jason hadn’t wanted to touch the man anymore than he needed. Never again.
“But..”
“Forget it, Dick.” Jason growled, trying to end the conversation. Dick refused, moving forward to scoop Jason into a hug, even as he sobbed. Jason flinched but didn’t protest. It was nice. This body wasn’t used to soft touches or comfort and even for all his mental strength, Jason couldn’t stop his body from melting in Dick’s arms as his eldest brother sobbed.
Jason was almost asleep in the soft, careful hold when he felt himself be passed to Bruce, ushered into sleep by the safety of his Fathers arms.
Hopefully when he woke up he was back to normal and he could ignore the whole thing happened…
Yeah, right. Like any of them were going to let this go anytime soon…..