Jason Todd

The Boy in Crime Alley

I fired Dick. He's renounced his identity as Robin, and he may never come back. The boy was foolish, I tell myself. I was unfair, I seem to rebuttle. Dick was good for calling out when I acted unrationally. I fired him for it. I lost Dick. The anger has me back in the suit before I know it.

"Master Bruce, with recent events I know this may not be the best time, but..." Alfred speaks quietly, intercepting me on my way to the car he holds up a long, thin box. The box contains two roses. I forgot what night it was.

"Of course, Alfred. Thank you," I say, taking the box and leaving the cave.

However, tonight's a working night. The Batman doesn't take breaks. My first stop I sneak into an apartment complex, rumoured to house child prostitutes and deal in kiddie porn. I hear a door slam shut and a piece of filth joke "kid's got one helluva mouth." Behind the door a child curses the man who I follow through the building. I can't let the mook get away but I wish I could go to comfort the child. Tailing the scum, he steps onto a balcony for a smoke before I shove him and he learns just how far I'm willing let him drop. I save him with my grapple gun, the line snaring him by the ankle as I pull him up to dangle over the side of the railing. "I want a name. You'll give it to me or next time I won't catch you. Who runs this operation?" I growl, the child's abuser as frightened as one would imagine a piñata at a child's birthday party.

He gives me the name. Felipe Garzonas. When I find him, Garzonas gets exactly what he deserves. I walk to the car, where I find a street urchin messing with the wheels.

"Ah, shit," a red-headed child says as he spots me.
"Did you think you could boost my tires?" I ask, admittedly amused.
"Just the hubcaps. I thought part of the Batmobile might be worth something," the stupid kid says but the car's name stings. Dick named it, something only a child would. Noticing my mind wander, the kid bolts. Chasing after him, the boy shows remarkable agility, he's probably spent years getting used to these streets but then he turns down an alley I know better than anyone. He stops to catch his breath, thinking he's escaped me, and I step under the single lightpost illuminating Crime Alley. The boy tries to say something before I cut him off. "I'm going to give you one chance. One. So think wisely before you answer. Are you hungry?"

In the cave, weeks later, the hole left by Robin is starting to be filled in. Sweat hits the mat and my new ward, Jason Todd, fights on despite the obvious aching in every part of his body. This is nothing new to the boy I picked up, toughened by years on Gotham's streets. But now he's here, sparring with the best. Me. The Batman.

"C'mon boy, did I take you in out of pity or do you have some fight in you?" I demand an answer as my young combatant back handsprings to avoid a strike.

"I'm here because I have more fight left in me than you do, Old Man," the child jaunts before spitting in my face and sweep kicking me to the mat.
"That's how you kick ass without the fancy underwear," the boy mocks with pride, relaxing his body before I sweep him to the ground and tackle him. Jason is pinned as I growl one lesson he won't forget.
"Never. NEVER spit on your opponent unless you are ready to die. An act of disrespect like that against a real threat will get you shot before you're old enough to drive." The boy nods, covering his fear with his toughest look but I can feel his fear. I think of Dick and worry I overreacted. I get up and give a hand to the boy to let him up, but Jason rolls backwards and springs to his feet. If I keep being this hard on the boy, he may leave just like Dick.

The days go on with fight training, obstacle training, detective training, and several subjects a middle school dropout like Jason normally wouldn't fathom perfecting. Despite his seemingly natural talents for runnung and fighting, the boy is a true scholar. I'm impressed by his work, but it doesn't seem good enough for him. I gave the boy a room in the cave and he's constantly training to become the next Robin. He's performed impressive displays of athleticism, solved old cases just as easily as Robin (occasionally with a hint or two) but the boy always impressed me. But a room and constant training aren't what the boy needs. He needs a home, I tell myself sitting in my study as I wonder why I keep saving a place for Dick. Questioning when the boy will have proven himself enough for me to bring him into the family. The boy is doing his best to be part of the family, but I'm keeping him at arm's length because I can't have him leave me like Dick. If this goes on, he'll quit anyway. I need to bring him in. Jason deserves to be part of this family.

I go to the cave to welcome Jason into the manner, but I'm stunned to see he's gone, the motorcycle is gone, and there stands the naked mannequin that once proudly wore Robin's suit. "Dammit!" I shout, suiting up and getting into the car. This is my fault. I need to stop Jason from getting himself killed.