Chapter Text
Jason wakes up covered in cats. Well, three cats. One is curled up by his neck, head resting on his shoulder, another is sitting right on the middle of his chest and the last is lying across his ankles. He blinks, wondering when the hell the cold hard corner of his cell had suddenly become so comfortable. It’s not until he hears the clinking sounds from another room that he realises that he’s not in his cell. He’s stretched out on a couch, in a warm apartment. Jason rubs at his face, thinking that perhaps the cats should have been his first clue that he’s no longer trapped down in the fighting pits of Gotham’s East Side.
Selina pokes her head around the door and frowns at him. Jason can’t meet her eyes, even after staying with her for the last three days, and instead lifts his hand in an aborted wave. Her frown smoothes out into a smile.
“Morning, tiger. There’s toast if you want some.” Selina disappears back into the kitchen and Jason weighs up whether the nausea he’s feeling is the prelude to vomiting, or simply hunger. The cats hiss as he sits up, scrambling away from him and he swings his feet to the floor. After a few long moments Jason decides that yawning pit inside him is hunger and he drags himself slowly to the kitchen. He hugs the wall when he slips inside, edging over to the small two-seater table warily. Selina’s not been anything other than kind to him so far, but he knows better than anyone how easily and quickly people can turn on you.
“There’s coffee in the pot. Just don’t take the last of it or I’ll get nasty.” Selina says, not turning round from the counter. She’s reading something on her laptop, Jason thinks it’s the news, but he’s not going to ask. Talking’s still difficult for him. He anxiously reaches up to run a finger underneath his collar, it’s still there and still looser than he’s really comfortable with, but the buckle’s sturdy enough that it’s not going to undo by itself.
“Did you mean it?” Jason forces the words out, but he needs to know if what Selina said last night was an empty promise to get him to stop or the truth.
“Mean what?” Selina twists to look up at him from her screen.
“You’ll help destroy them? Stop them killing us.” Jason stops there, clenching his fists.
“Yes.” Selina says and the vicious glee Jason’s feeling must show in his face because she makes a noise of frustration. “I know the urge to go into StrigiPharm’s headquarters and kill every last bastard that ever attended a fight is overwhelming, Jason. But there are smarter ways of doing it.”
“They deserve it. Kept me locked up for five years.” Jason’s throat is aching but he pushes on. “All us street kids dead, and no one gives a fuck.”
“I do.” Selina says, turning her back on him, unconcerned there’s a teenage killer in her kitchen.
“’Cept you.” Jason nods.
“If you want to do this, you need do it smart, tiger.” Selina says. “Clearing out the filth won’t mean anything when they’ll just replace the lower downs with fresh blood. We need to take down the top level here. Cut off the head and the body will devour itself... and the police and Batman will mop up the mess.”
“Smart how?” Jason can see her point, but fuck, the bloodbath four nights ago hadn’t touched most of the spectators and it hurts something twisted and violent deep in Jason’s gut. The thing he tries to ignore most of the time.
“You get proof they were not only funding the fighting pits and kidnapping kids off the street knowingly, but that they were involved in every level of the operations, from owning the buildings to attending the matches.” Selina taps at something on her laptop, repeatedly and hard. “Which means the paperwork. Copies of the computer files. Video footage. Corporate espionage. I’m not saying you can’t take out the trash, but you need to destroy their reputation and take away their money to really succeed.”
“You’ll show me how?” Jason wants to learn. He wants to avoid casualties if he can. He’s not a mindless killing machine like they thought he was.
“Hell, yes I will. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” Selina’s one of the best in the business, everyone’s heard of Catwoman. She can steal anything. Jason’s mom used to be a fan back before she got sick, and stopped caring about anything other than when the next hit was coming to take away the pain.
“I killed a lot.” Jason blurts out. Selina’s seen him kill, it’s not a secret, but it feels like a confession anyway.
“You were a kid with no choice but to do what they told you to survive.” Selina says firmly. “It wasn’t your fault. You’ll feel guilty for the rest of your life, because you’re a good kid. Don’t beat yourself up too much.” It’s reassuring that Selina’s so sure about him, but Jason will always wonder if he could have got away if he’d tried harder. Or if he’d run when he first met the scouts, instead of being lured to stay with the promise of food and money. He’d been so stupid. At twelve years old, and having lived in Gotham all his life, he should have known better.
Jason takes a slice of dry toast and chews at the corner quickly. There’s a couple of slices there and a pat of butter, but Jason’s still wary about taking them. Selina doesn’t seem the type to dangle nice things in front of him and then take them away, but still, better not to risk it. He downs the glass of water that’s also on the table and then sits there quietly, wondering what today will bring.
“You all finished up, tiger?” Selina says turning only enough to glance over her shoulder. “Go wash up then. We need to go out and get you some stuff today.”
Jason looks up at her in surprise, forgetting himself for a moment before he ducks his head back down. He forces himself not to cringe waiting for the blow from the wooden rod as usual. It doesn’t come and slowly, slowly, he relaxes. He stands and slips out of the kitchen silently, heading towards the bathroom where he washes his face quickly and brushes his teeth. He glances up into the mirror for a few seconds and hates what he sees. With wide shoulders, a thick core and big arms, Jason feels like a hulking beast. After using the facilities he washes his hands and then goes into the living room, and stands there awkwardly, poised to move until Selina fetches him.
The three cats wind themselves around his ankles, purring. Jason risks kneeling down to run his fingers through their fur. It’s soft and smooth and warm. He wishes he knew their names, but that means actually using his voice to speak to Selina casually and he’s not ready to do that yet. But he feels like he’ll get there soon. The cats disperse, as cats do, and Jason’s left standing there in his bare feet. Selina did say they were going out so he looks for his ratty old tennis shoes and ties them on. His toes are trying to burst through the ends of them, he’s had them so long, and the bloodstains are brown and almost lost in the general grime.
He hopes shoes are among the stuff they’re going to buy, if only because at least one of those stains on his shoes is brain matter. Maybe some pyjamas would be nice too. Sleeping in his jeans sucks.
They end up in IKEA, and Jason stares around the store overwhelmed by the sheer volume of stuff on offer. By the time they’re done in the store, Selina’s bought a bed, a desk and chair and a dresser to be delivered, along with bedding. A few days later when everything’s been delivered, he helps Selina put everything together in the small box room that’s becoming Jason’s bedroom. Selina pats him on the shoulder after they’re done, and Jason’s left alone in his room, sitting on the comfortable bed.
For the first time in years, Jason cries.
***
“Hey tiger.” Selina says and Jason looks up from his slumped position on the couch, watching mindless cartoons. His eyes drop down automatically, and Selina continues speaking, not noticing or caring about his slip. “You need a coat and some winter shoes. Get in the car, loser, we’re going shopping.”
“But I won all my fights.” Jason says as he stands up. Isis and Bastet hiss as he dislodges them out of his lap, but Sekhmet simply stares at him from her perch on the top of the couch. She looks disapproving of Jason moving just as much as Isis and Bastet are.
“It’s a quote, Jason.” Selina says with a scimitar smirk. “I guess I know what movie we’re watching when we get back.”
“Popcorn?” Jason asks. He’s still working his way to more complex and full sentences in casual conversation, but he can get his point across fine right now, and that’s all that matters.
“Popcorn, pizza, Chinese, booze. You name it, tiger, we’ll have it.” Selina grins. “Come on, let’s get going before the cats decide to sit on you again. They seem to think you’re their kitten. It’s adorable.”
“I’m not.” Jason says, throat closing up against his wishes.
“Their kitten or adorable? Because I hate to tell you this tiger, but you’re both.” Selina says, not looking the slightest bit sorry at all.
Jason huffs, which gets his point across as well as words would and follows Selina out of the apartment.
They end up at a store about five minutes walk away and Jason pointedly stares at every car they’ve passed on the way, making Selina snort and chuckle every time. The store itself is dark but clean, every surface covered in leather goods, boots and jackets, motorcycle leathers and catsuits, harnesses and hoods, and in the dim dark recesses, things that Jason can’t make out and Selina firmly guides him away from.
She leads him to a rack of collars of various sizes, colours, some with spikes and studs, and some plain. “Why don’t you pick out a couple?” Selina says, eyeing the thick stiff collar currently around his neck. “Maybe one that’s not so... Obvious.” Jason’s got used to the collar he’s wearing over the last five years, but he knows what Selina means. It’s three inches wide and so thick that it doesn’t bend easily. It’s not a collar a punk would wear, it’s the kind of heavy duty gear that you’d use on an attack dog, much like they turned Jason into; or the kind of collar for use in extreme bondage. Not that Jason has seen any of that, beyond the few patrons of the fights that brought their slaves along. The thought of being owned like that sends chills of pure horror down Jason’s spine. It’s fine if other people want or like that, but to Jason it’s a nightmare he’s had one too many times and too close to living more than once.
Selina wanders off leaving Jason at the rack to make his own choices. It’s a relief, the way she gives him simple orders and always seems happy with what he picks. Except, she calls them ‘suggestions’. Jason thinks that one day he’s going to have to see what happens when he doesn’t take one of her ‘suggestions’. He’s hoping he’s going to get that proud smile and her approval, the way she’s been hinting she will. But he’s not ready to test her boundaries just yet. He’ll wait until he has shoes, just in case.
Jason picks out three collars, two about an inch wide, one plain black leather, one black leather with some fairly wicked looking steel spikes and one thinner, plain red one. He looks around for Selina, and spots her by a display of leather jackets. He walks over, the three collars in his hand and holds them up for her to inspect. Selina barely glances at them before she nods and holds up a jacket.
“Here, try this on for size.” Selina holds out her hand for the collars and passes him the jacket. Jason tries it on, and feels the warmth of it. It’s roomy, but not too big and Selina hums, pleased. “You like that style?”
Jason looks down at the jacket. It’s plain black with a steel zip, in the old biker style, like something out of a fifties or eighties movie. Jason likes it; it looks like it’s meant to be worn for a specific purpose, not just made of leather because. He looks up and nods, managing to actually look Selina in the eyes for half a second. It’s the first time he’s actually made eye contact with her, and she smiles so widely Jason thinks she’s about to hurt herself.
“You like that one, or do you want to try another?” Selina points at a random jacket on the rack, it’s blue and slightly shiny and Jason looks between it and the one he’s got on. He shakes his head when he realises he doesn’t want to take this one off. He pulls the sides closer around him and hears Selina laugh quietly. “OK, tiger, we’ll take that one then.”
They make their way towards the counter but Selina stops suddenly in front of a shelf of boots. Jason remembers how she mentioned shoes earlier and raises a hand to a pair of mid-calf lace up boots that catch his eye. They’re function over looks, heavy duty thick soles and, once he closes his fingers around the toes, he realises that they’re steel toe capped.
“You like those? Try them on.” Selina says, looking along the shelf. She picks up a pair that, apart from zipping up at the front, look near identical to the pair Jason’s currently trying to pull on. He gets his feet in them and there’s too much room. He lifts a foot up and they slip down a good inch. “Hmm, that’s at least two sizes too big. Take them off.” Selina trails her fingers over the row of boxes under the display shelf. “What’s the size on them?”
Jason dutifully tells her, and she picks up a box of the same boots three sizes smaller. She opens the box and motions for Jason to try them on. They fit perfectly, and Jason grins up at her. With the too large boots now back on the shelf, Selina hands Jason the empty box, and picks up a box of the zip up boots in the same size that Jason’s wearing.
Back home in his room, Jason hangs up his jacket carefully over the back of his chair, and lines up the two boxes of boots by his dresser. The collars he lays out gently on the top of the dresser, pressing them flat along the surface. He trails his fingers over the leather, feeling the smoothness and the spikes. His hands shake and his heart begins to pound as he lifts them to the buckle on the collar he’s wearing, the tremor getting worse as he undoes it and slips the thick collar off. His neck feels uncomfortable bare and he drops the collar to the dresser, the back of his mind is screaming at him to punch something, break whatever’s in reach. Instead he reaches out blindly and grabs the plain black collar by instinct. His heart rate only begins to go down when it’s safely fastened around his neck.
He staggers back to sit on the bed, eyes closed and fists clenched. By the time he’s counted to 100 he’s calm, and for the first time in years the collar around his throat doesn’t feel like it’s choking him to death.
***
Jason’s first ever trip to G-Mart was not a complete disaster, which Jason’s still feeling strange over. Selina had taken him there to buy clothes, grabbing a cart and telling him to push it after her as she headed towards the clothes section. She’d wandered the aisles and racks of clothes, throwing multipacks of socks and underwear and t-shirts all in various colours, into the cart like it was an important military mission. Next had been the several pairs of jeans, sweat pants, pyjamas, and a couple of sweaters and hoodies, a denim jacket for summer, and finally a couple of pairs of sneakers too, until the cart was full and Jason’s eyes had been almost bulging out of his head at the thought that all this was just for him. They’d finished off by getting him his own shampoo and other hygiene supplies and once they’d paid for it all and it had been bagged up, Jason was incredibly glad Selina had driven them over; there was so much of it.
It’s all safely in his dresser now, the toiletries joining the collars on the top. Selina had even bought him a watch, hat, scarf and gloves that now rest neatly folded up by the collars. Jason spends ten minutes arranging everything to his satisfaction, trying to get his head around the fact that he actually owns things now. It’s an odd feeling, he thinks as he runs his fingers of the soft wool of the hat and scarf, these things are his and he almost doesn’t want to use them; wants to keep them in this nice, clean state. But if he does that then doesn’t that mean Selina wasted her money on them? It makes Jason’s head hurt a little, the desire to take care of his things versus not being ungrateful to Selina for giving them to him.
In the end, all the time he spends thinking about it doesn’t matter as Selina knocks on his open door.
“Hey, tiger. We’re going out tonight for a little run. Put on something warm and dark, it’s going to be chilly tonight.” Selina’s dressed in her catsuit, cat-eared hood in her gloved hand. Jason nods, and she walks away, and Jason changes into a pair of black jeans, black t-shirt and pulls on his leather jacket and boots, grabbing the hat and gloves as he leaves the room.
“There you are.” Selina smiles at him. “So, here’s the thing... If you’re going to be sticking with me, well. I’ve got a lifestyle I love, but sometimes it gets a little dangerous.”
Jason forces himself to lift his head and look her in the eyes. “I know. And I want to.”
“I want you to, too.” Selina shakes her head at something she finds amusing, and Jason tilts his head at her, but she shakes it again. “Not something I ever thought I’d say to a kid, that’s all. I don’t expect you to follow in my footsteps, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to know how and where to run if the shit hits the fan, tiger. So, tonight we’re going out on the rooftops so you can do exactly that if or when you need to.”
“OK.” Jason nods. Knowing your exits is always a good thing. Especially if you’re a former street kid like him.
“And who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky and see Batman and Robin at work.” Selina snorts, with a playful feline grin that Jason thinks is keeping a secret or too.
They get lucky about two hours later as they’re about to head home.
They’ve followed several paths over the rooftops, Selina pointing out which buildings have the best fire escapes to run down, which buildings are actually too far apart to jump across to despite initial appearances, and which ones have the anti-vigilante traps that you need to avoid unless you want to get hurt.
Selina tells him to duck behind an air vent on a rooftop. From there, Jason can see Batman approach her, watches him go from the driven, intimidating Dark Knight of Gotham of all the photos Jason has ever seen of him, or the occasional brief clip on tv have shown him to be, to a softer, more hesitant man. Jason’s heard the rumours that Batman and Catwoman have been spotted having a thing many, many, times on rooftops, but it’s only seeing it nearly occur right in front of his eyes that he believes it.
Selina’s playful and flirty, and Batman smiles once or twice. Jason wishes he had a camera, because no one will ever believe him if he tells them that Batman can actually smile. He even laughs once. It’s the weirdest thing ever. When Selina sidles up to Batman and lightly rests her arms on Batman’s huge shoulders, Jason decides to see if he can make it home by himself.
Later when he’s sitting on the couch in Selina’s apartment in pyjamas, eating chips and watching an old Jet Li action film, with all three cats doing their best to sit on him, he realises he called this place home. Even if it wasn’t out loud, it still makes a little burst of warmth appear in his chest. He has a home now.
***
They’re paying for three massive bags of kitty litter for Isis, Bastet and Sekhmet at the checkout of the G-mart. Selina’s also paying for Jason’s school supplies, because he’s come on leaps and bounds in his schooling with private tutors, and how weird is it that most of his tutors are in and out of Arkham Asylum between lessons? Not that he can deny that Ivy’s help with biology and chemistry have given him all he needs for high school. Selina even thinks he might be ready for actual schooling come the new school year, but Jason thinks she’s being a little too optimistic. Jason’s attention gets dragged out to the parking lot. It’s not the right area of Gotham for a big expensive car like that. The car’s barely pulled to a stop before the back door is thrown open and a teenage boy stomps out, yelling at the occupant of the backseat. He’s too far away for Jason to make out what he’s saying.
“Gonna wait outside.” Jason tells Selina, wandering out of the doors before she responds. He takes up a position leaning against the wall, and pulls his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket lighting one while he watches Pretty Spoilt Rich Boy yell at his Rich Entitled Father, who at this point has also left the car and is gritting his teeth in an attempt not to yell in public. Something about his build and the way he holds himself is making Jason wary. It’s familiar, but he doesn’t know either of them at all.
Selina comes out of the G-Mart, pushing the cart and jerks her head at Jason. He silently moves to come by her side and she pushes the cart to the car. Jason drops the butt of his cigarette to the ground and stubs it out with his foot, and suddenly Selina smirks.
“Oh, look. It’s Brucie Wayne and Richie Grayson. I should go say hello. Load up the car for me?” Selina says with an amused glint in her eye. Jason shrugs and takes the cart from her, pushing it up to the trunk of the car.
“Brucie, darling! It’s been an age.” Selina says, and Jason promptly tunes out the conversation, lugging his bag of school supplies into the trunk. He looks up just as Brucie notices Selina’s there. The change that comes over him is noticeable. He goes from repressed and angry to bashful, and while he’s not actually blushing, Jason gets the sense if he wants to. He’s softer and hesitant, like an inexperienced twelve year old trying to ask his crush out to a school dance. He’s like Batman was around Catwoman. Just like Batman around Catwoman. Exactly like Batman around Catwoman. Oh fuck, Bruce Wayne is Batman. Jason looks over to the Grayson kid and stares at him. He’s not actually seen Robin in person, but he’s watched the news clips, and Richie stands just like Robin does. Holy Fuck, it’s Batman, Robin and Catwoman in civvies in a G-Mart parking lot. What is Jason’s life?
Jason turns to stare down at the bags of kitty litter and tries not lose what he’s got left of his mind. He tenses when someone comes over and he lifts his head only enough to see that it’s Richie Grayson.
“Hey... You’re Selina’s new kid, Jason?” Richie smiles at Jason widely, teeth sparkling white against his golden skin and ink black hair. His blue eyes are bright, and on first glance, friendly, but there’s something sharp and calculating in them that Jason doesn’t trust. Jason gives him a flat look, and begins to pull one of the bags of litter out of the cart and into the trunk. “Right, I guess that’s obvious, huh? I’m Dick.” Dick gives a sheepish laugh, but the look in his eyes doesn’t soften. It ruins the airhead vibe he’s trying for.
“You want something?” Jason manages to grit out and tells himself to be proud of it later.
“Oh, just to say hi. Brucie and Selina go way back, so we’ll probably bump into one another once in a while.” Dick says, trying for charming and friendly, and on anyone else it would work, but Jason’s seen through him already, and doesn’t trust it one bit. Dick leans forward to grab the edge of the litter bag. “You need any help with those?”
“I guess.” Jason says, shoving the bag into the trunk while Dick lifts one corner.
“Not a big talker, huh?” Dick snorts softly and then mutters under his breath. “Guess Selina has a type...”
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Jason snarls. Dick’s eyes open wide in surprise and for a second he flounders under Jason’s glare.
“I uh...” Dick coughs. “Well... She and Brucie have this on again off again thing. And uh... There’s nothing wrong with being a man of few words!” Dick gestures to where Brucie and Selina are talking. Selina’s flirting openly, and Brucie’s... Not actually dropping to his knees to beg her to do Jason doesn’t even want to know what. Marry him probably. He’s got one hand in his pants pocket like he’s cradling something inside there. The look in eyes is what Jason remembers his mom looking at his dad like before it all went to shit. Huh. Batman’s in love with Catwoman.
“He’s in love with her.” Jason snorts, shaking his head and hoping that Batman’s rep for knowing everything is true otherwise he’s kind of two timing Selina with herself. And Jason won’t stand for anyone messing with Selina. She can more than look after herself, but Jason owes her.
“What? No he isn’t! That’s ridiculous...” Dick trails off staring at the two of them and studying them in the way that an actual airhead rich boy wouldn’t. “Oh no, he is totally in love with her, isn’t he?”
“That a problem?” Jason says finally hefting the second bag into the trunk.
“What? No. I mean... No. No, it’s fine. I like Selina.” Dick says, blinking rapidly and staring at Jason’s arms. Jason yanks down his short t-shirt sleeves from where they’ve ridden up. He hopes Dick isn’t going to say anything. He must have seen worse scars as Robin.
“Good.” Jason looks over to Selina. She’s engrossed in flustering Brucie, and probably won’t be rescuing Jason from Dick any time soon.
“Yeah...” Dick shakes his head. “So, um, you’re in high school, right? You’re a junior?”
“Sophomore. Next year.” Jason swallows, his throat is starting to close up. He grabs the last bag and heaves it up.
“You’ll be starting high school next year, or you’ll be a sophomore?” Dick sounds a little dazed. Is he really that worried about Bruce being in love with Selina? Why would he be? Unless some of the nastier rumours and Batman and Robin are true...
“Both.” Jason says, dropping the last bag into the trunk and closing the door with a sigh of relief.
“Oh.” Dick says, still staring at Jason in that distracted way. “I hope you come to Gotham Academy. It’d be nice to have a new friend there that doesn’t think that having family bank accounts older than the city is the best measuring stick of breeding.”
“...” Jason opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so he lets it close again. Dick tilts his head, clearly politely waiting for a response. Jason clenches his fists, trying not to panic. The collar around his throat feels too tight and he wants to rip it off. He tightens his fists, resisting the urge to lift them to his throat.
“Did you have a nice chat, boys?” Selina says, walking over at just the right moment.
“We did.” Dick smiles widely at Selina, pouring on all the charm he can muster. Selina ruffles his hair, and Dick’s big fake wide smile turns into a realer, happier one. Jason’s chest feels tight, like the remaining air has been sucked out of it. Dick’s got a nice smile.
“Well, I hate to break it up, kiddos, but Jason and I have some very demanding cats to get back to.” Selina says, nodding subtly at Dick. He peers between them, over to where Brucie is leaning against his very expensive car. Dick sighs heavily.
“Yeah, I guess neither of us want to get back to eviscerated... Furniture.” Dick says, somewhat cryptically. “See you around, Selina. Jason, it was really nice to meet you.”
Jason nods, and Dick flashes that real smile again and then walks slowly over to Brucie. Jason watches him go. When he turns back, Selina’s watching him with an amused and knowing smile.
“Brucie and Dick are Batman and Robin.” Jason says, fully expecting Selina to smile at him proudly for working it out. Instead she stares at him, wordlessly for a moment or two until she regains her mental footing.
“Are you sure?” Selina says, and Jason nods firmly. “Damn, I bought into that playboy facade just like everyone else.” Selina looks annoyed at herself.
“Uh...” Jason feels a mix of emotions at that. He’s happy that Selina believes him and confused as to how she hadn’t seen it, and worried that in telling her he might’ve messed up.
“Well, I know his secret, and he knows mine. I think that makes things a little more equal between us, don’t you?” Selina grins, and Jason huffs softly, relieved that she’s taking it so well.
***
Training with Selina isn’t like training with anyone else Jason’s ever worked with before. Not even his Dad, during that one three month period between prison stays when he’d taught Jason how to defend himself. Throwing a punch like his Dad is the one thing that the fighting pits hadn’t broken him of. And to be honest, while Willis Todd was not really a good man, and an even worse husband and father, there are worse things Jason could have inherited from him than the ability to land a good left jab or right uppercut.
Selina, unlike the fighting pits, doesn’t need to beat and break him down to an obedient mindless dog. She’s more hands on than he’d expected, correcting a stance or the position of his arms with a gentle guiding touch, not the thick staff he’d grown used to. She doesn’t bark orders; she’ll tell him what she wants him to do and then waits a little impatiently until he does it. She might ask him to repeat the motion, but she always tells him how well he’s doing.
It took two years of constant daily training for the fighting pits to let him out of the rookie cages and into the ‘real’ cage for the death matches. Jason tries not to think about them anymore; the pain and the cuts and bruises, the concussions and the blood, the sound of his opponents’ last breath and the way the light would wane in their eyes as they bled out. Snapping their necks was the kinder option back then. Jason got good enough that he could take out a fully armed adult opponent within thirty seconds if he used his claws and then snapped their necks. He stopped doing that once they told him he wouldn’t get fed unless he put on a show.
In contrast, he spends three months with Selina, learning to defend himself less lethally, and more importantly in Jason’s view, how to break and enter, how to steal what he needs without getting caught. Jason’s no hero, running about the rooftops like Batman and Robin. He wasn’t rescued by one, even if he will privately always consider Selina a hero for crashing through the skylight of the fighting pit, kicking the asses of the boss and his henchmen, until they were down enough for he and his fellow dogs to let slip their leashes and run wild. The satisfaction he got from slicing through his trainers neck with his claws is yet to be matched by anything he’s done, except read a really good book.
“Tiger, pull your nose out of that book, I have something for you.” Selina says, appearing in the corner of Jason’s eye.
“Huh?” Jason blinks at Selina, he’d just got to a really good part in Reaper Man. This Terry Pratchett dude has an odd sense of humour, but Jason likes it. He even likes the footnotes, which is just weird. And he has a deep affinity for the hedgehog now, although he’d had to look up what half the words in that song meant.
“You know, sometimes I can’t tell if your grunts are typical teenage boy talk or your speech problems.” Selina sighs, throwing him a small wrapped package across the room.
“For me?” Jason says holding up the package he’s just caught.
“No, I want you to deliver it. Of course it’s for you! Every cat needs his or her claws and ears.” Selina shrugs. “And since you already know how to use yours I thought I’d get you a pair that are less... gross with old rusty blood.”
Jason unwraps the package, finding a pair of goggles, a hood with cat ears just like Selina’s, and two heavy pairs of gloves inside. One pair has hidden claws in the finger tips, identical to the gloves that Selina uses to cut her way through glass. The other pair though, Jason’s much more familiar with. The leather on this pair is much thicker and has thin plates of metal on the backs of the fingers and the back of the hand, thanks to the fact that they need to protect his hands more. They need all the extra protection from the thick claw-like blades running from the wrists to where the fingers join the palm, that continue to run between his fingers. Jason slips on the gloves, curling his fingers into fists and feeling the weight of the Bagh nahks. It’s been months since he wore any, and his last pair didn’t have the glove element, just a single bar across his palm for extra stability. With his claws on his hands and only the thinnest of his collars around his throat, Jason feels free in a bone deep way that he thought he’d never feel again.
“Thank you, S. They’re perfect.” Jason breathes out; overwhelmed with how thoughtful Selina can be when she wants to be.
“I’d hope so! That kind of high quality doesn’t come cheap, tiger.” Selina grouses, but when Jason looks up from his hands, Selina’s grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “Just don’t cut your mothers... I mean the cats.”
“Rude!” Jason snorts. “I’d never. Well, maybe if they try to steal my fucking bacon again. All bets are off then.” Selina laughs loudly, flopping down onto the couch. The cats surround her looking at Jason with judgement in their eyes. “Sorry, kitties, but my bacon is sacred to me.” Jason would swear the looks on Isis and Bastet’s faces soften and they settle down almost as amused as Selina is. Sekhmet stares at him for longer, and Jason gets the feeling that out of all of them, she’s the one that would feast on his corpse. “You realise that if I eat all the bacon, I’ll taste better when I’m dead, right?” He leans forward to whisper at her.
Sekhmet flicks her tail dismissively, but looks away, as if conceding his point. Jason grins in victory. That had to be the easiest fight he’s ever won.
***
As it turns out, breaking into StrigiPharm’s headquarters is, apart from a few hairy moments when the guards pass them while they’re hiding in the vents, almost distressingly easy. The corporation seems to be far too overconfident in its meagre security. Once Jason and Selina have slipped out of the vents, and into the office of the Head of Research, it’s far too easy to get into the computers. It takes Selina’s clever little hacking programme bare minutes to get into the data and copy it onto a handful of USB drives.
“Goddamn, tiger, it’s like they’re not even trying to hide most of it.” Selina whispers, keeping her voice low to avoid the audio in the security cameras and the patrolling guards. She logs out of that computer and pockets the USB drives. “I mean it makes things simple for us, but I almost feel bad for their security.”
“Really?” Jason snorts, not believing it for a minute.
“Hell no.” Selina grins, cocking her head in a feline manner. “So, that last file said that the paper copies are held in the vault which might present half a challenge. There was something about recordings of the fights being studied in the labs, too.”
“I’ll hit the labs. You want the vault.” It’s not a question; Jason knows Selina wants the vault.
“Sounds like a plan. Meet back here in twenty.” Selina says, slipping into the shadows and disappearing.
Jason finds the labs with no problems, and the lack of security is starting to really bother him. The amount of effort and money they go to keeping the ‘dogs’ locked in their cells, and yet their headquarters have barely any? It seems suspicious. That, or supremely arrogant. Jason logs into the computer, not even needing to hack this one as an apparently forgetful Dr. Phillips has written not only his ID but the password on a sticky note, but helpfully left it on the corner of the monitor. Jason rolls his eyes hard enough to hurt at how lax the entire building is with keeping things secure. He makes copies all the video files, all four terabytes of them, and all Jason can think it’s that it’s a good thing he has about a large capacity portable hard drive on him, because fuck. Thanks to another helpful document in the folder, this Dr. Philips must be one of those mad scientists to have reminders everywhere, finds out that all the hard copies are kept in the file cabinets in the same room. A file folder of the paper kind is lying on one of the desks and Jason ends up flipping through it while the videos transfer over. What he reads inside makes his blood boil.
StrigiPharm have been kidnapping children for the last two decades, attracting almost no attention at all. Apparently StrigiPharm’s goal for all of this is to make their own army of loyal obedient super soldiers. The kidnapped children then get separated into three groups, the control group ‘the dogs’, ‘the rats’ who are given a long combination of drugs that are supposed to result in frenzy where they swarm a given target, and the ‘athene nocturnes’, some sort of elite group that are drugged with a kind of bastardised strength and durability serum. The results note that ‘the rats’ group has continually failed to produce the results they want. The ‘athene nocturnes’ have a very low success rate, only two or three each time they’ve tried. ‘The dogs’ however, have a success rate of nearly ninety percent. The writer of the report notes that it’s vexing that the control group routinely outstrips the others.
Jason shoves the folder into the bag at his hip, along with the dvds of the match recordings and the hard drive when it finishes transferring, only managing not to destroy everything he sees in the lab by the skin of his teeth. His hands are clenching and spasming in his anger. It hurts, but Jason’s learnt to ignore pain if he wanted to survive. This doesn’t feel any different. When he meets up with Selina he’s shaking and barely speak he’s so angry.
“I’m guessing from the look on your face you hit the jackpot, tiger?” Selina whispers, looking worried. Jason can only give her a jerky stiff nod; he can’t even raise his eyes to make eye contact. The collar around his throat is pulling tight and choking him.
“Me too. All the financial details, names, everything we could want.” Selina shakes her head. “I can’t get over the massive arrogance of these guys. It’s bordering on insane that they’ve got away with this for so long.”
“It ends now.” Jason grits out, and he doesn’t need to look up to see Selina nod.
“Let’s get all this where it needs to be.” Selina jerks her head towards the vents, and they creep out the same way they came in. None of this should have been so easy. Selina rescuing him from the pits was harder than this. It feels like a great pressure is building beneath his ribs, and if he doesn’t let it out Jason’s going to explode.
They spend a sleepless night and day making copies of everything they stole, preparing them to be sent out to the FBI, the DEA, the FDA and CPS, among the other acronyms. The one group they don’t bother sending anything to is the GCPD. With so many high ranking Gotham socialites on the StrigiPharm board, any arrests that they could be bothered to make are few and far between. The Federal agencies, on the other hand might actually do something with the information. And more importantly, they send copies to all the major news outlets in Gotham, the state and the national level. It’s too juicy a story not to be carried.
“If I ever see another goddamn bubble wrapped envelope after this I’ll rip an entire post office to shreds with my claws.” Selina huffs, sitting back against the side of the couch and shoving her legs out straight in front of her, dislodging piles of envelopes and labels, and one precariously stacked tower of dvd’s.
“It’ll be worth it.” Jason says, looking around the chaos the living room has been transformed into; tapping the end of his cigarette into an ashtray precariously perched on a stack of empty envelopes.
“Keep telling me that. I keep forgetting now that I can’t see my floor.” Selina sighs, thumping her hand into a pile of papers.
“Isis doesn’t mind.” Jason seals up an envelope with a USB drive and a dvd and a list of names.
“Isis is, and I mean this in the nicest way, a total slut for salmon. I gave her scraps earlier today and now she couldn’t care less if this place is a bombsite or not.” Selina smirks. “I have no idea where your other two mothers are. We’ve lost them in the mess.”
“Bastet’s on the balcony.” Jason grins. “But I think I mighta mailed Sekhmet out?”
“Jason if you’ve unleashed that beast on some poor government agency then... I’m buying you a beer, because that’s the best thing I’ve heard all week.” Selina smiles widely, running a hand through her short hair.
“She’ll have murdered them in minutes.” Jason imagines her doing just that and chuckles.
“All the glorious carnage you could hope for.” Selina snorts a laugh. “I guess we better finish these off before she comes back for us.”
“Probably should.” Jason sighs, taking a drag. “I could see her attacking from under that pile of envelopes.”
“Instant death by cat mauling is not how I plan to go.” Selina says, stretching her arms up towards the ceiling and waiting until the stretch makes her shoulder pop. Jason’s shoulders ache in sympathy, he shifts on his seat on the arm chair, rolling his shoulders until they feel looser.
“You have a plan?” Jason wonders what it is. His, in its entirety, used to be ‘quick’; but that needs rethinking now.
“Oh yes. I’m going to go, very happily, right on top of Batman.” Selina says with a dreamy look on her face. Jason can’t help wrinkling his nose at the mental image. “Don’t make that face, it’s what I want.”
Two days later and they’re standing in the crowd, along with the protestors and other onlookers outside StrigiPharm, watching as the FBI takes the chair and all the board into custody. It’s a media circus now. The tapes and data that they’d sent to all the newscasters as well as the FBI have finally been looked at. Even if some of them escape custody, or get found not guilty at trial, their individual reputations have been ruined as well as the corporation’s.
“See, tiger. Smart. You should be proud of yourself.” Selina wraps a careful arm around his shoulders and whispers into his ear.
“I like smart.” Jason smirks. “Think I’ll keep doing it.”
Because while Selina focuses on jewels and anything with a cat theme, Jason’s got a taste for corporate espionage now. He wants to stick it to the big businesses that cut corners and ruin lives, and use their masses to protect the black market, and the scumbags that traffic people and drugs and guns into Gotham. He can help the people he grew up with, all the people fucked over by the money men, and by being smart, he can avoid having to fight unless he wants to. He knows he can fight, if it comes down to it, he’ll kill again to protect someone, but why seek that out if you don’t have to? He can check any data he steals, and if any of it turns up on the desks of the police (not likely), or the media (very likely), as well as his future clients, well... Jason has no idea how that might happen. Really.
***
Selina hasn’t seen Batman for a good two months, which isn’t that unusual. She’d expected to see him sometime after she and Jason took down StrigiPharm, but it’s been a few weeks and he’s not been so much as a silhouette against the moon in the distance. Which means that when she finally does bump into him on the way home from relieving the Antiquities Department of the Gotham City Museum of its latest acquirement of a large obsidian cat pendant with jade eyes, it’s less a surprise and more a wonderful opportunity to stretch some muscles she hasn’t had to use in a while. Despite her reputation, she really doesn’t flirt with that many people when she’s working. Batman, Bruce, is, and always will be, special in that way.
“Catwoman.” Batman growls lowly, holding himself stiffly as he lands on the rooftop she’s paused on. His cowl lenses are up, and that’s interesting. He tends to do that these days when he’s not about to put any effort into arresting her.
“Mmm, Batman.” Selina purrs, watching for the minutest change in his jaw that lets her know she’s affecting him.
“I should take you in.” Batman takes several steps towards her holding his hand out placatingly.
“Well, you can try, Batman, but I think we both know you won’t.” Selina smirks, not moving, letting him come to her. You have to be patient and still as to not spook a bat.
“That boy you’ve taken in.” Batman, Bruce, starts to say, looking away almost shyly.
“Yes, what about him?” Selina says, stepping forward, giving her best slink to sidle up close to him.
“He. You.” Batman says, looking up at her and he can’t stop his gaze from flicking down to her lips and back to her eyes again, in the way that Selina knows means he wants to kiss her. It’s adorable, every single time. “Is he doing well?”
Selina blinks, and has to bite her lip to stop from laughing. He’s actually genuinely interested. How a huge man dressed almost entirely in leather to intimidate criminals can manage to be so entirely cute is beyond her. “He’s doing very well. Thanks for asking.” Selina lets her smirk turn into a softer smile.
“Good. That’s. That’s good.” Batman fumbles for his words as she gets closer. A secret that Selina will never tell is just how shy and awkward Batman can be.
“Uh huh.” Selina smiles wider, lifting one hand to trail a finger down his chest and over the bat symbol.
“So. I. I, uh.” Batman stutters, holding still, but in the way that means he’s either about to jump back like a skittish horse or pounce forward and pull her into his arms. Selina hopes it’s the latter.
“Oh, Bats. You don’t want to talk about my Stray.” Selina takes the last step forward to close the gap between them completely.
“I don’t?” Batman says, letting a brief flicker of genuine confusion flash in his eyes before he shoves it down behind the metaphorical mask.
“No.” Selina presses her chest up against his and hears his quick intake of breath. Gotcha. “In fact, I don’t think you want to talk at all.”
“That’s not true. I always want to talk to you.” Batman jerks, as if realising just how much he’s let slip with that admission.
“That’s so sweet.” Selina leans in and licks at his chin, feeling the touch of stubble on his jaw. “But I can think of better things to do with our mouths than talk, can’t you?”
Batman doesn’t answer, staring at her intently, the colour of his eyes almost vanished into black. He leans forward and brings their lips together. Selina smiles into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his big strong shoulders.
“That’s what I thought.” She whispers against his lips and feels the answering rumble against her ribcage with that special thrill that only Batman can make her feel.
***
Jason shifts in front of the mirror in the sun visor. He hates how he looks in his new school uniform. The arms bulge alarmingly, and his torso looks wider and squatter than he can remember it looking. His thighs look like tree trunks. It’s ridiculous. The worst part is that the uniform fits him perfectly. Somehow he looks bigger in the tailored jacket and slacks than he does in his leathers or a t-shirt and sweatpants. He flicks off some cat hair from his arm. He loves Isis, Bastet and even Sekhmet on a good day, but fuck if they don’t shed everywhere. At least Isis’ black hair doesn’t show up on his school blazer as much as Bastet and Sekhmet’s does.
He tugs on the tie, feeling like it’s a leash for the tenth time since he put it on five minutes ago. He grabs his book bag nervously and heaves a sigh. Selina’s driving him to school, as she has for the last week. As much as he wants to learn, he hates the atmosphere at Gotham Academy. Not due to the classes, and after being tutored by Professor Crane and Edward Nigma, the teachers are in no way intimidating. No, it’s the other students. He gets on well enough with the girls; it’s the other boys, for the most part. The Scholarship boys are resentful that someone with his accent hasn’t had to work his way into the school, but what do they know about Jason’s life anyway? The rich boys don’t like him because he’s clearly lower class in everything he says and does, but fuck them too. Jason sighs again and Selina looks over at him from the driver’s seat in her sporty two door coupé.
“You going to tell me what’s got you looking like you’re about to be sentenced to life there?” Selina says with a small encouraging smile. Jason bites back a groan.
“It’s nothing.” Jason tries and the silence that follows tells him that Selina doesn’t believe him. “OK fine. It’s... I look fat, OK?”
“You’re not fat.” Selina says, and Jason looks over at her when she lifts her hand from the stick shift to rest gently on his midriff. She pats him lightly. “That’s pure muscle, and we both know it. There’s a reason I call you tiger, not kitten, Jason.”
“I know. It doesn’t look like it in this though.” Jason sighs, and shifts awkwardly when the sign for the school becomes visible up ahead.
“If anyone hassles you, you have my permission to lay them out flat on the floor, OK, tiger?” Selina says archly, and Jason huffs out a laugh.
“Aww, thanks, S.” Jason smirks. It would feel so good to knock some of those boys down a peg or two, but Jason doesn’t want to get in trouble with the faculty. The rich up themselves little bastards aren’t worth a detention, let alone a suspension.
“You’re welcome. Now get your butt out of my car, and become valedictorian.” Selina squeals the car to a stop, and jerks her head toward the campus. Jason clambers out and turns to give her a quick wave that she returns before peeling out of the parking lot. Jason watches her car speed off and he turns to the Academy buildings and walks in slowly, gripping the handles to his book bag tightly.
It’s lunchtime and Jason’s sitting on his own, book open beside his lunch tray. He’d been invited to sit with a few of the girls, and while it’s an invitation he usually accepts, today he’d wanted a bit of solitude. Out of the corner of his eye he spots a commotion over by a table where all the ‘popular’ kids sit. Dick Grayson (Robin! The Boy Wonder!) is doing a handstand for the applause of his peers and Jason can’t help but roll his eyes at the display. Honestly, it’s almost like he wants people to work out his secret identity.
Dick flips down to the ground and does a little bow, before wending his way through all the tables in the cafeteria. Jason realises that he’s coming his way. He doesn’t know if he wants to speak to him or not, but as Dick comes closer Jason has the feeling he’s not going to get a choice in the matter.
“Jason! Hey, you made it.” Grayson smiles at him, teeth all white and straight and gleaming like some sort of commercial for Gotham Teen Beat. “It’s good to see you again! It’s been what? Five months?”
“Yeah.” Jason grunts, flicking his gaze down at his book instinctively before he forces himself to look up at Dick.
“So, what do you think of Gotham A? Have you been given the proper welcome?” Dick says, all friendly and charming. It’s so utterly fake that Jason feels a flash of rage that goes as quickly as it came.
Jason raises an eyebrow at that. A group of boys had tried to shove him into a locker on his first day, right after the principal had given out an announcement on the no tolerance bullying policy, but Jason hopes that’s not what Dick meant. “Oh yeah, the welcome wagon was great, Grayson.”
“Call me Dick.” Dick leans down to rest a hand on Jason’s table, trying for casual, but to Jason it feels a little threatening. Not that he’ll ever admit it.
“Hell no.” Jason scoffs. Who willingly calls themselves Dick except for rich old white men? No one but Dick Grayson.
Dick pouts, and the effect is a lot like Isis batting at Jason ankles to play with her. Cute, but it doesn’t move Jason at all. He only gives in and plays with Isis because she doesn’t ever quit, and it’s less effort in the long run than ignoring her. “But Grayson’s so formal. Come on, man, we’re friends aren’t we?”
“We are?” Jason blurts out before he can think about it. Dick pouts again, but this time it looks like Dick’s genuinely... disappointed? They’ve only met the once, that’s not enough to base a friendship in, is it? Jason hasn’t had a friend in so long, not including Selina, that he can’t remember how this goes.
“Of course!” Dick says sincerely, and Jason can tell he actually means it. “I mean, as long as you want to be, obviously. I don’t push myself on people who don’t want me around.”
“Right.” Jason says, unsure if he does actually want Dick around. There’s a lot of lies to consider here, secret identities and who knows what. It’d be easier for Jason to stay far away, but it’s been a long time since someone went out of their way to hang out with him.
“Should I go?” Dick looks unsure, tensing up like he’ll move away as soon as Jason tells him to. It’s what makes him tell him to stay.
“...No. Grab a chair.” Jason pushes the chair opposite him out from under the table with his foot.
“Decisive. I like that in a man.” Dick says, dropping down into the chair and smiling at Jason.
“Actually, I think I’ve made a mistake. You should go.” Jason says, smirking and very deliberately pinning Dick’s foot underneath his so he can’t leave. Hopefully Dick’ll realise he’s joking.
“Oh no. Too late, Jason, you’re stuck with me.” Dick props his elbows up on the table and rests his chin in hands, leaning forward a little with an amused smirk on his face. It’s the same position Selina took whenever Jason told her about how his math lessons with Penguin went.
“Huh, guess Brucie has a type too.” Jason mutters under his breath.
“What was that?” Dick says, tilting his head, having not quite caught Jason’s muttering.
“Nothing.” Jason says, clearing his throat and tucking the scrap of paper he’s been using as a bookmark between the pages of his book for later.
“Aww, go on, tell me...” Dick wheedles, doing his best to look cute and appealing. The puppy eyes don’t do anything for Jason though.
“Just thinking how similar you and Selina are, that’s all.” Jason says, only because he gets the feeling that Dick won’t let it drop if he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to spend the entire lunch break being pestered over something so inconsequential, so he might as well admit it now.
“Oh.” Dick says, and there’s a flicker of uncertainty in those big blue eyes. Dick had said he liked Selina, so Jason files that away to ask about later. Since he can do that, apparently.
“Don’t worry, Dickie. It’s a good thing.” Jason says, and watches as a big smile blooms across Dick’s face as he rests his chin on his hands. It’s kinda nice to have a friend to talk to at lunch, Jason realises.
***
Having successfully broken into Stagg Industries to gather data on their policy of dumping chemical waste into the wetlands along the coast instead of disposing of them legally (thanks for the job, Ivy!) and not only copied all the relevant data and papers, but extracted himself with no one noticing, Jason’s taking a five minute break on rooftop to get his breath back and let some of his adrenaline dissipate. There’s just something so bone deep satisfying about what he does to pay his half of the rent that Jason can’t even articulate it. Yet. If he gets that A in English Lit that he’s hoping for then he’s going to have to try.
He’s sitting in the middle of the rooftop with his arms around his bent knees when he sees a flash of bright yellow and red. He waits until the flash grows into a blob in the corner of his eye, and he hears the light patter of pixie boots on the rooftop. It’s not the first time he’s run into Robin the Boy Wonder over the last month. It’s not even the second. Jason’s starting to get slightly suspicious that Selina and Batman might be sending him Jason’s way on purpose.
“Oh joy. It’s Underwear Boy.” Jason says dryly, once Robin’s close enough.
“Be glad, it’s Catlad!” Robin says loudly, cheerfully obnoxious. “And it’s Robin.”
“Yeah, well, I’m Stray, not Catlad.” Jason says, for at least the third time. It’s not that he objects to being called Catlad, but the more distance he can put between Selina and himself professionally, the better for them both.
“I guess that fits. You’re Catwoman’s stray, after all.” Dick says, hovering a few feet out of reach of Jason’s hands.
“And the award for stating the obvious goes to Robin, the Boy Hostage.” Jason rolls his eyes behind his goggles.
“Hey, it’s the Boy Wonder!” Dick sounds affronted, which is hilarious, really.
“The amount of times you’ve been tied up? Nah.” Jason snorts. The banter is flowing easily for him, and Jason decides he should probably send Professor Crane a thank you card for helping him with his fear of conversation.
“Yeah, well... Maybe I like being tied up.” Dick says playfully, his tone teasing.
“Am I supposed to have a comeback for that, or shall I just kick your ass?” Jason rolls to his knees and then rises up to his feet, bringing his arms up in a loose defensive position.
“You can try, Kitten.” Dick says living up to his secret identity. Jason hates being called kitten. No one but Dick calls him that, not after the one time Joker tried it and Jason stabbed his hand to a table and then knocked him out. It’s a fond memory.
“Careful, Birdboy, I have claws and I know how to use them.” Jason flexes his fingers and the claws of his Bagh nahks glint in the moonlight.
“Promises, promises.” Robin grins sharply.
“You wanna dance? Let’s dance.” Jason says, stepping forward and pushing his claws out further.
Robin jumps backwards when Jason lunges, swiping out with his claws. He’s not actually all that interested in hurting him, but Dick’s got him irritated and a quick sparring session should get the aggression out. And if Robin comes out of it with a bruised face, well, if Jason feels a little glee over that, who could blame him? Dick dodges and evades while Jason goes on the attack, smiling all the while. It’s not until Dick starts punching and kicking back that Jason has to put any real effort in. It’s on one lunge forward that misses Dick by a mere inch that Jason starts to lose. Dick grabs his wrist once it goes past him, putting his foot on the back of Jason’s ankle to overbalance him and Jason lands on his back before he has the time to do anything but notice Dick’s smirk. Dick pins Jason down, arms above his head and Dick’s weight on his stomach.
“Say, how’d you meet Catwoman, anyhow?” Dick asks casually, and Jason glares up at him not wanting to answer.
SEVEN MONTHS AGO:
It’s damn cold today, and Jason’s shivering in his thin t-shirt. He was really hoping that they wouldn’t have scheduled any fights today, the weather being what it is. He would have thought that anyone with any sense wouldn’t want to travel to the outskirts of Gotham to the literally underground fighting club, but apparently the rich and heartless of Gotham are as uncaring for their own personal safety as they are for the poor bastards they kidnap and force to fight for their amusement. It’s not a comforting thought to Jason, though.
Jason and several of the other kids in Jason’s row of cells have been dragged out of their ‘nice, warm’ beds and given their gear, forced to traipse to ring to wait their turn to take their collars off and be let loose to fight in a gladiatorial cage match. Jason fits his Bagh nahks onto his fingers, curling his fist around the ice cold metal and trying not to look up at the audience. The last few times he had, not only had he not seen anything thanks to the position of the spotlights in the ceiling and along the rows of seats, but he’d had a beating with that fucking rod again after he’d won. It’s not worth the pain to try and see a face to hate on.
He can’t stop his head jerking up when the announcer yells out that since today is such a special day (it is? Since when?) that there would be special circumstances for the matches. Today they’ll be fighting to the death. Great. Jason hates the death matches. He always wins them. No matter who they’ve sent him up against, somehow, he’s always managed to pull out a move that ends the match in his favour. The last thing he wants to do today is kill.
Jason sits quietly on the side ring, waiting for his turn to be pushed into the cage, when there’s an almighty crashing sound and glass rains down from the ceiling. Jason hadn’t even known that there was a glass ceiling in here. At first Jason has the wild thought that it’s Batman, but there’s no cape attached to the black leather clad figure that lands on top of the cage. The figure moves quickly, leaping from the cage to the rows of seat, and Jason can just make out what looks like a whip against the glare of the lights.
The ring has turned from enforced order from the guards to total chaos in the space of thirty seconds and Jason takes his chance. Although his collar’s still around his neck, he moves as quickly as he can force his aching limbs to, slicing through the throats of the two armed guards beside them and then his piece of shit, utter scumbag trainer, and Jason takes a few moments to feel the sweet revenge before he makes his way to the exit. People get into his way and he slashes at them, kicking and punching his way along the gap between the cage and the walls of the auditorium. Some men in masks block his way, and with a few swipes through their stomachs he’s out of the room into a corridor. Jason runs, sprinting as fast as he dares until he comes to an open door. There’s no label, he has to hope it’s taking him closer to the way out.
It leads him to another corridor, and when he finds another unlocked door to dash through, that takes him to yet another corridor. As he turns the corner in that one he nearly collides with the black clad figure from earlier.
“Fuck!” The woman says, bringing up her arms to block any punches Jason might make. He pulls his fists back so that they don’t connect and they stare at each other for a few long seconds. “You don’t want to fight me, tiger?”
“Fuck, no I wanna get out of here.” Jason grits out, throat rusty from lack of use.
“Great, let’s get the hell out of here then.” The woman says brightly, clearly still wary of him. Smart lady.
“Awesome. Which way?” Jason says, stepping back to reinforce that he doesn’t want to hurt the person who’s helping him get the fuck out of the fighting pits. The woman starts running down the other path of the corridor, and Jason follows after silently.
“I’m Catwoman, by the way.” The woman says as they find another door, and she yanks it open. It leads to a stairwell and Jason follows her up the flight of stairs.
“Jason.” He says, as he jumps up the stairs two at a time. After they’ve gone up three flights, they find a door that looks like it leads outside, or at least leads to the real exit from the blurred image seen through the glass. They burst out of the side exit of the building, running like their lives depend on it, because well, they do. Catwoman grabs his wrist as she passes by a dangerous and powerful motorbike, jumping on and turning on the ignition in one smooth move. Jason’s dragged on behind her and they roar away the building. When he turns to look over his shoulder, Jason can see flames begin to lick the sky and a steady rushing stream of people rushing out of the exits to safety.
NOW:
“She gave me a ride out of a sticky situation.” Jason grits out, struggling under the full weight of Dick sitting on his stomach.
“Sounds like there’s more of a story there.” Robin remarks. Jason glares up at him.
“Not tonight there’s not.” Jason gets a hand free and pushes at Robin’s shoulder. Robin’s face goes stony and Batman-like for a second before splitting into a smile and he rolls off Jason.
“Maybe you’ll tell me some other time then?” Dick says with a wide friendly smile.
“Sure. Right after you tell me how you met Batman.” Jason snorts.
“That’s kind of a depressing story. Not date material at all!” Robin grins, chuckling, and Jason stares at him until the chuckles dissipate into a slightly awkward cough. “And talk of the devil...”
Jason looks over to where Dick’s pointing and he sees Selina and Batman doing their own fight dance on a rooftop across the street. Selina pulls nearly the exact same move on Bruce that Dick had pulled on Jason a moment ago to trip him up. “Huh, looks like Batman goes down easy after all.”
“He’s letting her do that.” Robin protests half-heartedly.
“Well, she does always say never trust a guy who won’t go down too.” Jason smirks, although when Selina said it she didn’t mean getting Batman flat on his back.
“And she’s right.” Dick laughs, waggling his eyebrows under his mask. It’s a weird effect, you can tell what’s meant to be happening, but the glue of the mask dulls the movements to nearly nothing.
“Are you jealous?” Jason says, keeping his eyes on Robin’s face. If there’s any truth to those rumours about Batman and Robin, it’ll show up whether Robin means it to or not.
“What?” Robin frowns at him. “No! No, I’m... I’m envious.”
“Envious?” Jason tilts his head at Robin, taking in his open stance. He doesn’t think Robin’s lying. Looks like that rumour is just people being unpleasant, after all. It’s actually quite a relief to know that.
“I broke up with my girlfriend a couple of months ago.” Robin says, looking away with a set to his jaw that means he’s shoving some emotion or other down. “I miss having that, having someone be so close.”
“Oh.” Jason presses. “I thought you were dating that alien chick, Starbolt?”
“Starfire. No, she’s dating Speedy.” Robin chuckles, shrugging. “We kissed once, but I don’t know, somehow nothing ever came of it?”
“Oh. That’s rough, buddy.” Jason says, remembering the cartoon he’d watched last Saturday when he was sacked out on the couch with a bag of potato chips and three purring cats.
“Yeah, thanks.” Dick nods, appreciating Jason’s sympathy. “Wait, did you just Zuko me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jason says with the straightest face he can manage. “But if you ever want a game of Pai Sho, hit me up.”
“I... Oh my god, I feel so played. Betrayed!” Dick exclaims dramatically. “How am I going to recover?”
“I’d suggest a nice cup of tea.” Jason says smirking at Dick biting his lip to stop himself from laughing.
“Maybe I should be calling you Iroh, and not Stray.” Robin says, tapping on his chin thoughtfully.
“Or you could call me Jason.” Jason says, snorting when Dick gives him a surprised look. “Oh come on, I know you know my name. Batman calls Catwoman Selina all the time. You can’t expect me to believe you don’t know my name too.”
“I. No.” Dick looks a little sheepish. “I just wasn’t expecting you to give me permission to use it.”
“Only when we’re alone, dude. I’ve got a reputation to build.” Jason shrugs. He knows enough of Batman’s Rogues that he can probably get away with being Robin’s friend, but there’s getting away with it and being on first name terms with him in public.
“You mean you want me to be your dirty little secret?” Dick sounds utterly delighted at the idea.
“I wouldn’t have put it like that.” Jason raises an eyebrow at him.
“You do! Wow.” Dick grins widely. “Is it weird I’m totally into that?”
“Yes, Bondage Wonder, it is. It really is. Why are you like this?” Jason sighs, staring up at the sky as if it has the answers.
“Oh well, I’ll just blame it on the pattern of obsessive behaviour instilled in me at an early age.” Dick grins, patting Jason on the shoulder.
“You do that, Robin, you do that.” Jason shakes his head fondly.
***
“There you are, Stray!” Robin calls out as Jason’s scaling a fire escape to reach a roof. He’s not working tonight, he felt like going for a walk. In costume.
“Here I am, you dirty little secret.” Jason calls back; looking up to the roof to see Dick perched there on the edge, waiting for him.
“I brought you a present!” Dick beams at him, pulling out a feather teaser wand with a little toy mouse attached, and waving it at Jason. Dick’s even gone to the trouble of wrapping it with a bright red bow. What an utter asshole.
“You bring that thing anywhere near me, and I’ll break it, and then you. In that order.” Jason says, climbing up onto the rooftop and scowling at Dick.
“Aww, come on...” Dick tries to pout, but his wide grin interferes with the fake sadness he’s going for.
“No.” Jason says flatly. “I’d be tempted to say I’d tie you up and torture you with it, but I have the horrible feeling you’d like that.”
“You know me so well!” Dick trills like the bird he’s named after, letting the grin out properly and flipping up into a handstand, for no reason that Jason can see.
“And yet, I still haven’t dropkicked you off a roof, why is that I wonder?” Jason grumbles, reaching out an arm to push Dick over. Dick laughs and rolls onto his feet.
“Because you’re secretly a decent guy with a soft spot for birds?” Dick taps his chin in mock thought, keeping the teasing smile in place.
“No, it’s definitely not that...” Jason grins wolfishly at Dick’s, now for real, pout. “It’s because Catwoman’s already told me that I’m not allowed to bring dead birds home on pain of doing the laundry for a month.”