WHO: Jason Todd (AU), Alfred Pennyworth (Canon) WHAT: Alfred checks on Jason after the battle, and they catch up on how Jason got from 15 to 21. WHEN: After the Kraken battle WHERE: Jason's cabin WARNINGS: mention of character death and injury, PTSD
Jason felt wrecked. Though he’d come away from the battle without significant injury, the adrenaline of the day was starting to fade, leaving him aware of every pulled and overtaxed muscle, every bruise, every small knick or scrape. He’d fought in full gear, the Red Hood armor and helmet designed to take all the abuse that Gotham City could dish out, and to allow him to stay in touch with his team over comms. Now, Jason wondered why armor had to be so heavy. Even though Bruce Wayne’s fortune ensured that all of the Bat kids had the very best in lightweight protection, Jason’s was still designed to favor defense over speed. He momentarily envied Dick the lightness of the Nightwing suit, then scowled when he remembered that said suit hadn’t saved Dick from getting speared. At least the idiot was going to be fine.
The Red Hood costume ended up in a heap on the floor of Jason’s bedroom on the ship. Ace gave the mess a disdainful sniff before he followed his stupid human into the bathroom. The dog sat sentinel as Jason showered to get rid of the blood, then watched as Jason filled the tub for a long, hot soak.
About two hours after he’d gotten back to his rooms, Jason, hair dripping, sprawled on the couch and wondered how much he’d pay for it later if he just stayed there and ignored his rational mind’s advice to get some ice and ibuprofen.
There was a lot Alfred was used to: Bruce going out and fighting crime and Alfred left behind without any idea if or when Bruce would return, the young Robin’s doing the same (it was a rite of passage in the Bat family), Bats doing idiotic things that nearly got them killed. The usual Bat family shenanigans that often left Alfred feeling exasperated, although he was known to scold them whenever things went too far, or else there was the occasion when Alfred had to play surgeon because someone needed medical attention. While it did keep his skills up to par, Alfred did not like having to sew any of them together. With so many more Bats now, there was even more of a chance of Alfred having to play doctor. It may have made him feel needed, but he didn’t have to like it.
When the attack began, Alfred had left for the community center rather reluctantly. He did not run, but his pace had been faster than usual. He hadn’t left without his rifle, however. He had refused to go without some sort of protection. After all, he could defend himself as well as the next person and he had done his best to help defend the center during the attack. There was no such thing as a break.
After the battle was finished and they were given the all clear, Alfred immediately searched out the Bats. He found one after the other, only retreating when he was convinced none of them had life threatening injuries. He was most concerned for Dick, but he had had much worse injuries. Then there was Wally, whom had also received some decent injuries as well. When he was convinced none of them were on the verge of death, he sighed and retreated back to the suite. This was just another day in the life of the Bats.
After some time, Alfred had gathered some various medical supplies and decided to go around to the others, passing out bottles of water and some ibuprofen for swelling and any headaches that might have started. There was a sharp knock on Jason’s door next as Alfred waited patiently in the hallway.
“Ugh, go ‘way,” Jason whined into the couch cushions when he heard the door. “Ace, sic ‘em.” Only his dog didn’t do as he asked. No, the traitor went over the closed door, pawed it once, and whined. Jason knew that whine. That whine would be followed by an ear-splitting bark if Jason didn’t get up and open the door.
“Fine,” he grumbled, rolling off the couch. “Have it your way.” Ace looked inordinately pleased when Jason shuffled over to answer the knock. Jason couldn't blame the dog when he saw who had been waiting on the other side. “Hey Alfred.”
Jason stepped off to one side to let Alfred into the living area. The old butler looked as poised as ever. Jason offered a tired smile and tried to rake his black and white helmet hair into order. Was he glad he’d put on a t-shirt and lounge pants after he’d gotten out of the bath. Maybe they’d keep Al from fussing over the numerous mottled bruises beneath.
Luckily for Jason, Alfred did not hear that whiny plea for him to go away. If he had, he would have made a point to tell Jason he had absolutely no intentions of going away anytime soon. The Bats were stuck with him whether they liked it or not. Not that Alfred felt unwanted, because he certainly felt needed most of the time. Even if they had been attempting to make him loosen up and have a fun time. Reading in the libraries and variou sitting rooms was Alfred’s idea of loosening up, thank you very much.
“Master Jason,” he greeted when the door finally opened. He gave Jason a once over to make sure he looked as close to unscathed as Alfred approved. If there had been any visible bruising or other injuries, Alfred would have most certainly made a fuss.
“First, take these,” he said, holding out the bottle of water and the some ibuprofen tablets. He wouldn’t move until Jason had swallowed the pills, or else protested and claimed to have already taken some. “I have been making rounds.”
The whole reading thing was one of the reasons Alfred ranked at the top of Jason's “Favorite People” list. Education had been hard to come by in Jason’s neighborhood when he’d lived with his mom, harder still when he’d found himself on the streets, but Jason had loved books as far back as he could remember. He still couldn't decide if the library or the food was the best part of living at Wayne Manor.
Jason held out a hand with a grimace to accept the pills that Alfred offered. He didn't mind the pills, but his shoulder protested the motion. “Thanks.”
The faint scars on Jason’s hands were typical of someone who got into plenty of fights. His knuckles were bruised from the battle, though thankfully not split or scraped. He washed down the ibuprofen with the water, and then hobbled over to the couch to collapse again. “The others still doing okay?”
Only after Jason had taken the pills did Alfred set foot into the suite. He wanted to make sure Jason had some sort of medication in his system. He couldn’t exactly pass out narcotics, so ibuprofen would have to do. For all Alfred knew, Jason’s injuries didn’t warrant anything stronger. To Alfred, Jason appeared more sore than anything, but he could easily be wrong.
He walked into the sitting area, scanning his surroundings. Alfred tended to memorize rooms, taking in what he saw, and taking note of any potential for cleaning. That’s what he did now as he looked around the sitting area.
“As well as they can be, considering,” he said, looking at Jason again. Alfred worried endlessly over them all, even when he knew they were fine. It came with being part of the Bat family. Endless worry and anxiety over his family because Alfred knew better than most what it was like to wonder if they were alive or not. As a whole, they had been through much worse. “And you, master Jason. How are you after that surprise battle?”
Jason wouldn’t have accepted narcotics if Alfred had offered. He was wary of them after having witnessed his mother’s losing battle with addiction. The only way anyone could get them into his system was if he was in the Bat equivalent if the ICU. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case this time around. He did appreciate the ibuprofen, though.
The cabin looked much the same as all the others on the ship. The belongings that had come along with Jason were in his bedroom, and Tim hadn’t put a personal stamp on the common area, either. It was spotless, too. Jason hated living in clutter.
“I’ve had worse,” Jason said, entirely serious, as he sprawled on the couch with his arm over his eyes. His shirt sleeve rode up to reveal a darkening bruise that extended toward his shoulder. “Guess I can add Kraken to my resume. Not the kind of professional development I was aiming for, though. I would have been fine with ninja assassins. Refresh the existing skill set.”
At least Alfred had one member of the Bat family to count on when it came to cleaning. He was pleased to see that despite being on what they might consider a vacation, that Jason hadn’t suddenly turned into a slob. Perhaps this cleaning business truly wasn’t wasted on the young Bat. He was quite pleased, indeed.
Alfred watched as Jason sat down, momentarily hesitating before sitting in one of the empty chairs. He watched Jason quietly for a moment. “That is certainly true,” he agreed. They had all gone through much worse than that fight. Alfred included.
“Oh, but adding a mythical creature to your list of accomplishments seems far more impressive than a band of ninjas,” Alfred teased, though his tone was far from humorous. It was quite serious and anyone who didn’t know him very well might think he was being serious. Anyone who didn’t know him might not realize he was joking.
Jason’s early life had predisposed him to wanting to live somewhere that he could quickly find whatever he needed. You never knew when you’d have to bolt. First, it had been from his dad. Later, from the landlord. Eventually, he’d had to be ready to move as soon as someone found his bolthole so they wouldn’t knife him as a trade for his shelter. Living with Bruce and Alfred, he’d learned that some of his skills translated to any house, anywhere.
“Where’s Aquaman when you need him?” Jason wondered. Ace yipped in apparent agreement. “Maybe he could have talked big, ugly, and handsy down. Or made friends with the sharks or something. How do you get sharks that smart, anyway?” Dropping his hand, Jason rolled his head so he could look at Alfred and opine, “I really, really miss our usual stupid stuff. Wind up penguins. Mad scientists making bad freeze puns. That I can handle.”
Ace leaned in to lick Jason as he talked, then leapt onto the couch. Jason winced, and pushed the dog off of him, muttering, “Ow ow ow ow ow,” under his breath. “Watch the ribs, man. Jeez.” There’d be no getting out of Alfred fussing now, Jason mourned.
“It’s a shame we can’t request certain people to arrive,” Alfred said in response. He would have liked Bruce to show up, but Alfred and the others could survive without Bruce. Alfred more or less wanted to ensure Bruce was well, and he was certain his master was just fine, but it still didn’t stop him wondering. A hint of a grin appeared on Alfred’s face. “You didn’t like the step up from the usual?” Alfred joked, this time his tone more obviously humorous.
Well, that tone changed immediately upon hearing Jason’s plea’s to Ace. He sat up stiffly. “I believe your injuries are worse than you claim,” he said seriously. Although he had been relieved to recently discover that Jason was alive and well, unlike in his time, he suddenly became increasingly worried.
“I’d have liked it a lot less if I didn’t have my very own alien princess.” Jason was not above letting Kori save his sorry hide. “Bruce has really got to stop his ‘we work alone’ shit. It’s so much nicer when you have big guns to point at the people who also have big guns. I have a dream, Alfred, and its of Kara saving Bruce’s ass in his own city in front of everyone.”
Alfred’s stiff reprimand had Jason up and moving before he’d made a conscious decision to do so. “Really, it’s fine, Al. Just got bounced off a few things is all. The armor's designed to redistribute the force of impact so you don’t wind up with Jason jelly.” He fixed pleading eyes on the butler. “Look? See? Fine.” Jason stretched his arms out to the side to demonstrate, and promptly winced. God, he sucked at hiding things from Alfred.
“Yes, miss Kori appeared at the right time, I believe,” he said in agreement. Alfred nodded at that next part, “I have never been, nor will I ever be, a fan of master Bruce’s idea of working alone. It has gotten all of you in more than one terribly dangerous predicament and I for one am tired of seeing that happen.” Clearly, Alfred was not pleased with any of this. Alfred chuckled, “Of course miss Kara would be the one saving master Bruce.”
Alfred was clearly not buying this. Alfred pursed his lips then, “I would like to see your injuries for myself, Jason.” It was both out of caring and out of frustration that he said only Jason’s name. It was a mixture of both because at the moment he wasn’t certain if he was more angry at the young man for obviously lying about the extent of his injuries, or if he was more worried. It was probably an equal balance of both right now.
Sighing, Jason reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled the black cotton over his head in a handful of stitled motions that guarded his sore shoulder, his aching back, and his generally displeased everything else. The skin beneath had started to darken to what would be a glorious pallette of contusions the next day. He let the shirt fall onto the couch and sat back down so Alfred could check him over.
“Kara and Kori are the best. Bruce is an idiot.” Jason leaned forward so his elbows arms were braced on his knees, giving Alfred a chance to examine the worst of his injuries. It also gave Alfred his first good look at the scars that ran across a fair portion of Jason’s torso. A tapestry of new and old, the thin white lines and ropes of thickened skin marked a series of fights, and not a few surgeries. Jason didn’t think about them much anymore, though he tended to avoid going shirtless in public.
Without a second thought, Alfred stood up and went over to kneel next to the couch Jason sat on. He looked him over, taking in the injuries with a frown. Alfred didn’t even try to hide his displeasure. He didn’t need to poke or prod at the bruising. He could tell Jason was hurting based on how he had reacted to Ace.
“They are indeed good allies to have,” Alfred agreed. HIs eyes continued to scan over the young man’s injuries, shaking his head every so often. He sighed heavily and passed the shirt back to Jason to put on again. It was never easy for him to examine any of them when they were harmed. It left a heavy weight in his stomach. “Are the older scars from after you came back from the dead?” He wasn’t going to say when you were killed.
Glad that Alfred was at least satisfied he wasn’t going to keel over any time soon, Jason shrugged back into the t-shirt and leaned back. Ace had long since claimed the corner of the couch for his own. The German Shepherd shifted around so he could lay his head in Jason’s lap, his deep brown eyes flicking from one favorite person to another as he watched the humans’ exchange.
“Some of them.” Jason gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Wasn’t exactly a neat and tidy resurrection. We’re still not sure what happened. I, uh … kind of … ” He tapped his fingers on his knee, suddenly nervous. Alfred at home knew the story, but this Alfred hadn’t even had a chance to finish mourning Jason Todd before finding himself in Tumbleweed. “Well I dug myself out,” he admitted at last, in a rush. “And best we can tell, some cops picked me up, took me to the hospital. Because whatever woke me up didn’t fix me.” Finding the records of a John Doe fitting Jason’s description, and aligning roughly with the time immediately before his clear memories began, had been difficult. Jason had seen the doctors’ notes, and the police reports.
“I remember bits and pieces. Pretty sure they took good care of me, but of course it didn’t occur to anyone to ask Bruce if I was his, you know? Why would it? Anyway,” Jason pointed at the white shock of hair just over his forehead. “Got a few scars just from everything healing up and surgery and sh- er, stuff.”
Alfred hadn’t questioned Jason about his return from the dead. It was partly due to feeling that the young man probably didn’t want to discuss it. Alfred knew better than most what it meant to be a part of the Bat family, and he knew what pain that could entail. It didn’t make it any easier whenever they lost someone.
Alfred was quiet as Jason spoke. He didn’t know the extent of the story, and he didn’t want to know all the gorey details. Why would he? He decided that he would leave it up to Jason as to how much he wanted to divulge. He didn’t need details, he didn’t need an exact picture painted, but knowing the overall story seemed to help somewhat. “What did you do after you healed?” he asked curiously.
Jason figured he owed Alfred some sort of explanation. After all, the man had thought he was dead and gone. As far as Jason could tell, he came back to life in a lot of worlds, but not all of them, and different versions of him seemed to go about the process different ways. Morbid curiosity had led to to read up on some of them. Alfred didn’t need to know that, though.
“After, I … Christ, you’re going to be really disappointed in me, Alfred. I screwed up. For years. I know none of us are perfect, but I was completely off my rocker, and I took it out on everyone else. Hell, even Ra’s thought I was too nuts to bother with.”
Maybe Alfred did deserve an explanation of events, but he didn't want to know all those gory, morbid details. He just wanted to know the how, when, and maybe even the who. If Jason even knew the answers. Apparently he didn't know much about his resurrection and Alfred didn't want to press him too much.
Alfred considered Jason for a moment before taking in a deep, steady breath. “What exactly happened for them to think that?” Maybe he would regret asking, but he was curious.
“I went for a little swim in the Lazarus Pit. Talia thought it’d heal the stuff that the doctors couldn’t fix. Ra’s was hoping he could use me to get to Bruce. When he decided he couldn’t, Talia shipped me off with a boat load of money. Eventually, I found out about Tim, and that the Joker was still alive. It felt like Bruce had forgotten me. I just wanted the Joker gone, you know? So he wouldn’t hurt anyone again. Ever. Instead I find out the old man replaced me and let the bastard live.
“I came home and shot up Gotham. Took over most of the drug trade. Even tried to get Bruce to kill the Joker.” Jason shrugged. “Went after Tim, too. Thought I scare him off or get Bruce to kick fire him.”
Alfred looked genuinely surprised at that revelation. He sat forward in the chair, resting his arms on his knees. “Jason,” he said quietly, not even sure where to go with it. Maybe there was disappointment in his voice, but there was also concern. He shook his head, taking in the story and feeling a little lightheaded as it all sank in.
“And did it work? Did your plan work to scare him away?” He sounded like a scolding grandfather right now. It was clear Alfred didn’t approve of his actions.
“Not one bit.” Jason laughed a little and scrubbed at his face. “I think it made Tim more stubborn, and Bruce gave me at least one speech about how he wanted to get rid of the Joker, but he couldn’t cross that line.”
Ace whined and shimmied across Jason’s lap so that he could set his head in Alfred’s instead without freeing the younger man. Jason absently stroked the dog’s fur. “I left Gotham for a while when I realized I wasn’t getting anywhere. Stayed gone until we thought Bruce was dead. He wasn’t, by the way, but Dick and I got into a huge fight. I got arrested, wound up in Arkham. Which we can honestly skim over from now until forever. Long story short, Tim broke me out.”
“I can imagine,” Alfred said in response. Alfred chuckled at the thought of one of Bruce’s speeches, “I’m sure he didn’t explain his plans in detail.” Alfred couldn’t imagine Bruce reaching out to one of his former Robin’s for help unless he was so deep in trouble he had no choice.
Alfred scratched behind one Ace’s ears. Petting that dog was almost therapeutic for him. “Arkham?” he sighed. “And what of the choices you’ve made since then? Do they get better or do they spiral?” Because Alfred wasn’t sure he was ready to hear anymore bad news.
Jason slouched as best he could with Ace pinning him down. “Better. Definitely better. Tim hooked me up with a therapist. You’d probably get along with her. She doesn’t take any crap, but she’s all polite about it.” Jason smiled at Alfred. “Sound familiar?”
There was more, of course, but Alfred could find out about Damian from Damian himself, if he hadn’t already. “I’ve got Roy and Kori to keep me out of trouble when I’m away from Gotham, and I’ve mostly patched things up with Bruce and the rest. Kind of got laid up in the manor for a while maybe a year ago and didn’t have anything better to do with my time. We’re good now.” He ducked his head, embarrassed. “And I pretty much just unloaded the latter half of my life story on you. Sorry, Al.”
Alfred continued to scratch behind Ace’s ear. A hint of a grin appeared on his face as Jason spoke about his therapist. “She sounds more than qualified.” The Bats needed people like that in their lives. They would get into even more trouble if it weren't for those types.
Alfred switched to gently stroking the dog's head, nodding slowly as he listened. “There is nothing to be sorry about,” he insisted, looking over to Jason. “Part of my job is to listen to your stories. I don't mind at all,” he said with a little smile. “I'm happy you've done better with yourself. I'm always worrying over you lot, it's nice to know when things go well. Or well enough.”
“I’ll, uh, I’ll walk you through some of the stuff she’s got me doing. And the meds and stuff. Later, I mean. I know you like to keep track of our medical records considering all the trouble we get into. And I’ve got people I talk to here. So we’re good on that front.” Jason seemed to shrink in on himself a little more, not out of shame, but embarrassment and uncertainty. He felt like he was thirteen again, confessing to Alfred that a girl had asked him out but he wasn’t interested at all and really wanted to go read a book instead. Alfred was safe, always, but Jason still longed for his approval.
“I promise I don’t do most of that bad stuff anymore. I’ll still shoot a guy if I have to, but I won’t kill unless it’s called for, and I don’t go after family.”
Alfred nodded, seemingly okay with that agreement. “It can wait for another day,” he agreed. He looked at Jason again, considering everything he had told him so far. “If ever you need to talk to someone else, I'm here to listen.” Silently judging you depending on your actions.
He patted Jason on the back. “As long as it isn't often. I'm sure master Timothy is glad for that,” he said with a little grin.
Jason snorted. “Don’t tell Babybird, but he might be my favorite.”
Alfred chuckled, “Your secret is safe with me, master Jason.”