Twenty minutes after passing the loud-mouth wizard off to the police with a broken wand, Robin roared into the Batcave on his motorcycle. He removed his helmet and placed it on the seat of his bike before strutting over to his father. The Batman was sitting in his oversized black leather chair looking over collected evidence from serial bank robbers who had recently hit up some smaller Gotham banks.
"Damian," Batman greeted without turning around.
"Father," Damian replied, "I apprehended the wizard that had turned downtown Gotham into an amusement park. He is in police custody."
Batman did not reply for a few moments as he flipped through crime scene photos. "Is that all?"
Damian gritted his teeth in frustration. Of course Father would sense that he was not entirely truthful. "Red Hood got involved. I became immobilized for a short period of time and the fool felt the need to interfere in my mission."
Batman paused in his research, "His status?"
"Unknown," Damian grumbled, "He was hit by a spell and complained that his chest was 'tingly' before leaving."
"What type of spell Damian?" Batman turned to look directly at him and Damian felt just a bit smaller.
"It was meant for me, some kind of age reversal spell. The wizard was guessing my age before he cast it but was interrupted by Red Hood before he could finish it."
"He cast it regardless and Red Hood took the spell for you," Batman exhaled heavily and closed down the case he had been working on. "Damian, hit the showers, write up your report and then go to bed. I'll be back in half an hour."
Damian scowled as his father turned away from him and headed towards the Batmobile. "Todd can take care of himself," he snapped.
"No, that's the problem," Batman replied as he slid into the Batmobile, "Jason can take care of everyone but himself."
Damian scowled at the place where the car used to be and stomped off towards the showers, purposefully ignoring the glass case with the old Robin costume.
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Batman softly landed on the fire escape outside Jason Todd's kitchen. The lights in the apartment were off and the young man was probably asleep but Batman knew that his former protégé was too prideful to ask for help if he needed it. He used his built in computer to override the Red Hood's security system and then picked the lock on the window. Slipping inside, he scanned the room slowly while listening for sounds in the apartment.
The room was Alfred-approved clean, not a speck of dust visible on any surface. Furthermore, although the room was relatively bare except for the essentials, it was arranged to military standards. The pans hanging off the wall rack were ordered by size and were spaced five inches apart. The kitchen knives were all in their proper slots in the wooden block and there were no dirty dishes lying in the sink. It would come as a surprise to most people, but out of all his sons, Jason was the most organized. On the streets he never had anything more than the clothes on his back but when he possessed personal items, Jason was obsessed with taking care of them. Unlike Dick whose apartment was a disaster zone or Tim who took care of his things but tended to hoard items until his room was cluttered with books and notepads from eight years ago. Perhaps the closest one to Jason's level of order was Damian, although lately the smaller boy had begun collecting wounded animals in his room.
He slipped through the kitchen and past the empty bathroom into the living area. The living room was as neat and ordered as the rest of the apartment and the entire wall of sparkling clean windows looked out over Gotham harbor. A wall divided the living room from Jason's sleeping space and that was where he next checked. The ancient knives, swords, and other sharp weapons were still safely away in their display cases along with Jason's collection of antique handguns. A YiXing clay teapot set was placed on a modern dresser next to a two foot tall Buddha statue that rested on the floor. Batman did not even want to know where Jason managed to collect all these antique weapons. There were some things best left alone.
Batman stumbled over a pair of black, Kelvar enforced pants that had been discarded on the floor. In fact, most of the Red Hood's usual outfit was scattered haphazardly around the otherwise spotless room. Now concerned, Batman headed right for the bed where a small lump was hidden under the bed sheets. That lump was far too small. He pulled back the red duvet to find a naked child asleep in Jason Todd's bed.
The little boy moaned and curled into himself against the cold, a pair of men's black boxers lay discarded at his feet. If his face's uncanny resemblance to the former Robin still left some doubt, the slight crease between the eyebrows wiped away all uncertainty. The Red Hood took an age reversal spell that would have otherwise killed Robin but instead turned him into a small child no older than six. He was probably closer to five.
Bruce sighed. "Not again..."
Batman pulled the covers back up to the boy's chin and went about searching for a small shirt. Instead he had to settle with one of Jason's older t-shirts tried to maneuver the boy's head through the opening of the red shirt. Jason was completely knocked out and did no more than grumble as Batman shoved his arms through the sleeves and flopped back on the bed when it was over. Batman filled a duffle bag with some of Jason's clothing for when the spell wore off or was reversed. Zatanna the magician would be his first call of the morning. He slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and wrapped the small boy in a soft red and black blanket and lifted the child into his arms.
It was only after they were safely in the Batmobile and on their way to the cave that Jason woke up.
"Mmmm ... what? Where am I?" Batman glanced in the rearview mirror to see that Jason was fighting dearly to stay awake. He was cocooned in the blanket with his arms pinned down by the blanket and the seat belt.
"You're safe," Batman said and saw Jason's dazed teal eyes focus on him.
"You're the ... the Batman! What are you ...? Where's my Mom?" He struggled a bit at his panic.
"Calm down Jason," the child paused, wide-eyed at hearing Gotham's hero say his name, "I need you to stay calm; can you do that for me?"
The small boy bobbed his head in acknowledgement. "Did the bad men come?" he asked quietly, his large teal eyes staring at Batman through the rearview mirror. Batman wasn't sure how to reply to this question. "They know Dad's away. Did she ... hurt a lot?" Underneath the cowl, Bruce couldn't help but feel his heart break just a little. He knew Jason's childhood was hard but a young child should not have such knowledge.
"No ... No Jason, she wasn't in pain.... She asked me to watch out for you. That is why you are here."
"Oh ... okay," the little boy bowed his head and slumped back against the leather seats. A trail of wetness was the only indication of his sorrow as he cried silently in the back seat.
Bruce winced under the cowl but the Batman rationalized that it was for the best. Catherine Todd was dead and the boy shouldn't be waiting on her for however long he was stuck like this. It would be harder to explain why she wasn't coming to get him. The Batmobile turned on to the dirt road that led to the Batcave and it was only after he drove through the waterfall did he realize the boy had fallen asleep again.
When they reached the Batmobile's platform, Bruce removed the cowl from his head and unbuckled Jason from the back seat. He was careful not to jostle the child too much and carried him upstairs to the manor. He had just reached the second floor when he was waylaid by his irritated butler.
"Master Bruce, how many times must I insist that work is to remain in the office?" Alfred Pennyworth murmured from behind him, careful not to wake the other house occupants.
Bruce flinched and slowly turned to face the older man, "I thought that you would be asleep, Alfred."
"Normally I would be, however Master Damian insisted on a midnight snack - my word, Master Bruce! You must stop this! I know you wish you could, but you cannot save every dark-haired boy in Gotham."
Bruce scowled at the accusation. "I believe Damian can take part of the blame for this. He was reckless with his mission tonight and Jason had to save him. As a result of his involvement, Jason was aged backwards to a child."
Alfred stepped closer and brushed some dark hair aside, "It is Master Jason! How old would you say?"
"I'm estimating between four and five but he was always on the small side when he was younger."
The butler sighed. "And so soon after Master Tim's ordeal. I do hope he hurries home."
Alfred smiled softly and brushed the boy's cheek with the back of his finger, trailing the tear-tracks. Jason may have been one of the most difficult inhabitants at the Manor, but he and Alfred were always very close during his first life. "What happened here?"
"An unpleasant conversation about his mother."
If possible, Alfred's mouth looked even thinner, "Well, sir, his room is always prepared. I shall search about for something appropriate that he can wear in the morning."
Bruce nodded and continued down the hall and after a few moments, Alfred's footsteps echoed heading in the opposite direction. He carefully lay the child down on the queen-sized bed in Jason's old room. Since he had started wearing the bat symbol, Alfred had kept Jason's room available for if he ever chose to stay the night.
"Batman?" Jason mumbled, snuggling deeper into the many layers of blankets. He peered blankly up at the mask-less man tucking him into bed.
"Bruce," the older man corrected, "My name is Bruce. I would like it if you stayed here with me Jason. Would that be alright with you?"
The boy's eyes were already drooping, "S'okay. You gonna be my new daddy?"
Bruce paused; his hand just centimeters from brushing back the little boy's unruly hair. The boy forced his eyes open at Bruce's lack of response.
"Would you like that Jason?" Bruce couldn't explain why his heart rate was accelerating.
"Mmhmm, you seem real nice; better than my other Dad."
Bruce finally allowed his fingers to run through Jason's hair, feeling the soft locks curl around his fingers. He forgot how wavy Jason's hair used to be. "I'll do my best, okay son? Now go to sleep."
"Kay, night Daddy."
"Good night Jason."
Bruce turned to meet Alfred standing in the open doorway. The butler wordlessly held out an armful of Damian's clothing, his lips trembling dangerously. Bruce gently took the clothing from Alfred and lay it down on the dresser by the door. He gripped the older man by the shoulder and guided him out of the room. They would deal with everything when the sun rose in the morning.
After an early morning workout in the gym, Damian headed down to the kitchen for a late breakfast. He was surprised to find his father sitting at the breakfast table, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him and his face hidden behind today's Gotham Gazette. Pennyworth was unusually absent but plates of blueberry pancakes, bacon, and a variety of fruit were spread across the table. Damian was perplexed by the large assortment of foods and eyed the plate of bacon distastefully as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.
"Father," he greeted, "are you not required at work today?"
Bruce sighed and folded his paper to place on the table beside him. "We need to talk about last night."
"Everything is in my report," Damian was very confused by this interrogation.
"It's about the spell that Jason took for you."
"-tt-" Damian scowled as he loaded his plate with pancakes and fruit, "that fool should have minded his own business."
"Damian," Bruce leaned forward to catch the boy's eye, "Jason saved your life. It was a delayed spell so there was no immediate reaction."
Damian scrunched up his nose, he wasn't feeling particularly sorry. "So ... does that mean Todd-"
"Health wise, Jason is fine," Bruce interrupted, "However he was still affected by the age reversal spell."
"Father, I don't understand," Damian hated to admit it.
Before Bruce could reply and prepare his son, Alfred returned to the kitchen with a small boy trailing behind him. His hair was still wet from his bath and Damian's black shirt was too large as it slipped off one of the boy's shoulders. A pair of Damian's shorts was being used as pants and was tightly belted to the boy's thin waist. Damian stared at the little boy wearing his clothes and felt jealousy rear its ugly head.
"Who are you?" he growled at the small child wearing his clothes, in his house.
But the boy did not crumple under his glare as Damian thought he would, instead he glared right back. "I'm Jason Todd. Who're you?"
Damian opened his mouth to reply but found that the words just wouldn't come out. This is what his father had been trying to tell him. Eventually he managed to stutter out "I-I'm Damian Wayne."
Jason shrugged in reply, obviously unimpressed with Damian's name. He turned and smiled shyly at Bruce, unsure what to do.
"Here Jason," Bruce patted the chair next to him, "What would you like to eat?"
The smile that the small boy returned was so wide, so toothy, and so ... Jason, that Bruce felt his lips curling in response. Jason scrambled up the chair but just barely could see over the table even sitting on his legs. "I'm not really picky, I'll eat anything."
Bruce ignored Damian's mumbling about scraps and dog food as he loaded Jason's plate with a little bit of everything. Jason's eyes went wide as he saw the feast that was laid out in front of him; he'd never seen so many kinds of fruit before!
"Master Jason, would you like milk or orange juice?" Alfred hovered near the little boy's chair with a jug in each hand.
"Uhmmm ..." Jason bit his lip and glanced between the two jugs, "milk please."
Bruce's paper remained beside him on the table untouched as Jason completely consumed everything on his plate while chattering away. Sometimes he forgot how much Jason liked to talk. He asked about his brothers, the house, the pool, Batman (which he promptly dropped when Bruce shushed him and Jason replied with "Oh! Secret!" and his finger held against his lips. Bruce couldn't help but ruffle the boy's wild hair). In return, Bruce found out that Jason was five, he knew his letters and numbers, his favorite food was chili dogs (Alfred cringed at this), and that he wasn't sure what he wanted to be when he grew up but he knew that he wanted to help people.
Damian scowled as Todd prattled on, waving his hands to emphasize his point. Father and Pennyworth were hovering around the boy, hanging on to his every word. Damian had tuned out long ago but was brutally ripped out of his daydreams of nooses around the necks of little boys by something Todd said.
"It's real nice of you to get me clothes, but you don't got to get me much."
"You mean 'you don't need to get me much,' and actually I do. At least the basics so you can get by."
"Okay," Jason shrugged and shuffled around on his chair. He lifted one bare foot into the air near Bruce's face, "How 'bout some shoes Daddy?"
Bruce grabbed hold of Jason's foot and was probably about to start a game of tickle until Damian exploded.
"How dare you! You are not worthy to call him Father, Todd! You are a disgrace to the family legacy!" Damian violently pushed away from the table and stalked through the house towards his room. Bruce exchanged a look with Alfred and turned back to Jason to reassure him. Instead, the boy was sniffing his bare foot.
"Are my feet too smelly? Is that why he don't like me?"
It was moments like these that made Bruce realize why he had picked Jason to be the second Robin. It was because the boy could make him laugh.