Chapter Text
"O gentlemen, the time of life is short!
To spend that shortness basely were too long,
If life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at the arrival of an hour."
Henry IV, Act 5, Scene 2
* * *
Jason had been planning his revenge on Batman ever since he learned the Joker wasn't dead. He had a detailed plan, complete with maiming, murder, theft, and probably way too much drama. It was the sort of thing Jason would have put together during his days as Robin, albeit with more murder.
And Jason fully intended to carry out said plan. At least, until Talia pulled him aside and asked him gently, "Is this really what you want to do with your life?"
Jason scoffed. "Of course it is. Bruce deserves this for not killing the Joker."
"A true thing," said Talia, "but that is not what I asked. Vengeance is a noble cause, but it is all-consuming. It will encompass your entire life. Though I do not know why, you have been given a second chance at life. I do not want you to waste it doing something that will not bring you true happiness. So, I'll ask again, is that really what you want?"
Well, that put things in perspective. Jason was only seventeen. He had died, and he had come back, and not he had options.
Talia must have seen his hesitation, for she put her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "You can do anything you want. If you want to kill the Joker, I will help you. If you want to go to school, I will set that up. If you want to travel the world and learn that way, I can make that happen. Whatever you want, habibi."
Jason's eyes stung at the term of endearment. They stung even more at the thought of every door being flung open to him all at once.
School. Jason had always loved school, if not for the people than for the learning. Gotham Academy had been challenging socially, but the academics had been invigorating. Back there, Jason was set up for a good future. A college fund in his name, the best teachers Gotham high society had to offer, and the endless possibilities of someone who had been given a new life.
Rebirth. Jason had been reborn twice now. First when Bruce adopted him, and again when he woke up in his coffin. The second time had been less pleasant, but Jason was hoping it would last.
It probably wouldn't if he carried out his initial plan.
"Maybe . . ." Jason's voice was soft. "Maybe I want to go to school."
"Maybe?"
Jason lifted his chin. "I want to go to school."
Talia smiled. "Then we will make that happen."
Two weeks later, Talia and Damian were dropping him off at Metropolis University. Jason had wanted to be as far away from Batman as possible, and he was unlikely to come across him in Metropolis. Plus, Metropolis University had an excellent drama program.
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" asked Talia as she helped Jason with the last of his bags. She looked every bit the anxious mother, which was strange, to say the least. It wasn't as if Talia was his real mother, even if Jason had begun to see her as such.
"I'll be fine, I promise." Jason gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll call you if there's trouble."
"You can contact me as well," said Damian, looking petulant. Jason knew the petulance was a mask for some other emotion—probably sadness—so he gave the kid a hug.
"Yeah, but not if I get in trouble. I'll text you for random things, like if I see a cute cat on the road." Jason ruffled Damian's hair.
Damian batted Jason's hand away. "I demand to see any and all cats you encounter."
"Okay, ahki. I'll send you photos."
"Promise?" asked Damian. And there was the sadness.
Jason dropped to his knees and let his bag fall from his shoulder. "I promise." Then he wrapped Damian in the tightest hug he could possibly give. Damian, to his credit, did not wince, but he did scowl at Jason when he pulled away.
"You must stop crushing me with your hugs, Todd. I was unable to breathe."
"You were fine." Jason moved to ruffle Damian's hair again but got his hand pushed away before he could manage. "You're an assassin. It would take more than me hugging you to kill you."
"I am not yet an assassin," Damian sniffed, but a small smile peeked through. Jason grinned.
It took them twenty minutes to lug all of his things from the car to his dorm. His roommate wasn't there yet, which was perfectly fine in Jason's book. It meant he could talk freely with Talia and Damian as they moved in.
"I'm afraid we need to go," said Talia once all of Jason's things were in place. "Ra's will be wondering where we went."
"That's alright. I get it." Jason accepted Talia's hug. "Stay safe."
"You stay safe as well." Damian's voice was authoritative. Jason gave him a silly salute. That annoyed Damian, just as Jason knew it would. He even managed a hair-ruffle afterwards, which had Damian glaring like he was trying to kill Jason with his eyes.
"Damian, do be kind to you brother," said Talia absentmindedly. She moved toward the car door, then paused. "Habibi, I hope this is everything you've always wanted."
"I think it will be," he said. It was already shaping out to be, after all. He was being dropped off to college by his pseudo-mother and almost-not-quite little brother. If that didn't scream normal young adult experience, then Jason didn't know what did.
He thought back to his time as Robin, to when he discovered his college fund. He had imagined what it would be like to go to college, then, how Bruce would drop him off and help him bring this things to his dorm. How Dick would make jokes and probably cry "because his baby brother is growing up". How Bruce would be all proud that at least one of his sons was going to get a degree.
He didn't have any of that now. And it hurt, a little. But he also felt good. Talia was here, and so was Damian, and that was all the family Jason needed right now.
He hugged Talia goodbye one more time, promising her that he would stay out of trouble. Damian tackled Jason with an embrace, gripping onto him like a barnacle on a whale. Jason promised Damian that he would text every day and call once a week. That got Damian to peel away, and then they were gone, driving back to the League of Assassins.
Jason watched them go, then returned to his dorm.
* * *
College ended up being the best thing that ever happened to him. He became fast friends with his roommate, an engineering major named Luke who was somehow even more cheerful than Dick. He made friends in the theater department as well; there was a girl named Holly who knew every line of Hadestown by heart, a boy named Javier who was trying to be on Broadway, a girl named Samantha who shared Jason's love of literature, and a guy named Dez who designed costumes.
It was strange, having adventures that were decidedly normal. Instead of fighting supervillains, Jason spent his nights sneaking into bars with his friends, just so they could sip cocktails and sing bad karaoke. He went for midnight swims at the beach, drove a minivan on road trips, filmed his friends doing stupid things, and generally filled his life with fun.
The whole thing was foreign to him, but it was good. He was happy. For once since he came out of the Lazarus pit in a fit of rage, he was happy.
Talia and Damian came to his graduation. Talia clapped and cried and took way too many photos. Damian sniffed in disdain at the fuss, but he still gave Jason a tight hug and said he was proud. That made Jason tear up, but he didn't give Damian the satisfaction of knowing.
"It'll be your turn soon enough," he said instead, ruffling Damian's hair. Over the years, his little brother had given up on trying to stop him.
"I am only fourteen," said Damian. "I have several years to go before I will be going to college."
"But you're starting middle school next year," Jason whined. He pulled Damian to his side. "You're growing up!"
He felt a bit like Dick in that moment, but graduation was making him a little sappy, so he would allow it.
"It is not that big of a deal," said Damian. He pushed Jason away. "I am intelligent. Father says I have made improvement in my ability to make friends, so I am not worried for my social health."
Damian had gone to live with Bruce two years ago. He was officially Robin now, and a damn good Robin at that. He was happier in Gotham, Jason could tell. And he wasn't surprised. The League hadn't been kind to Damian, even with Talia there. Now, Damian was free to be a kid.
Well, as much of a kid as he could be when he spent his nights fighting criminals. That made Jason more than a little angry with Bruce.
"He keeps assuring me that he's not nervous," said Talia. She smiled. "I know he is, though."
"I am not!" said Damian indignantly, but his face was twisting in the way it did when someone had put a pin on his emotions.
Jason crouched down. His heart panged a little when he realized he didn't have to lean far to get on eye level with Damian. "Look, ahki, you're gonna do fine. I promise. You've got me, remember?"
"But you will not be in Gotham," said Damian, and damnit, he was right.
Jason shook that off. "I'm only one call away, and I'll still be in Metropolis, getting my masters. It's not that far away from Gotham. You've got my address. You can come to me any time you want."
Damian considered this. "Very well. I suppose that is adequate." He made a face, then gave Jason a quick hug. "I am glad you are my brother."
"And I am glad you are my son," said Talia, hugging the both of them. She had to stretch a bit, for Jason was at least twice her size. "Now, I don't think I've quite enough pictures. Gather your friends for me. I want a picture of all of you."
Jason and Damian groaned in unison.
* * *
It had taken Jason a while to pick his masters, but he eventually landed on teaching. It wasn't something he realized he was passionate about, but during senior year, he volunteered at a community theater. He'd been in and out of a few different productions, but then the director for the children's production of The Little Mermaid broke her neck and couldn't direct anymore. Jason was pushed into her position and was surprised by how much he enjoyed teaching kids how to put on a play.
"I think this is going to be my life now," he told Holly afterward, and she patted his shoulder sympathetically.
It took him the expected two years to finish his masters, and then he was job searching. It was by chance that he landed his first position teaching at a middle school in upstate New York. The job lasted a year before the school grew too bankrupt to support a theater department.
Jobless, Jason returned to searching.
He hadn't meant to end up in Gotham. He was actively avoiding Gotham, actually. He had too much history there, both from his childhood and his time with Bruce. But then a job at Gotham Academy of all places opened up, and he was applying before he fully thought about it.
A month later, he was finding an apartment in Gotham, having gotten the position.
"I should have taken the job in Kansas," he muttered as he finished up his most recent apartment tour. Apartments in Gotham were either suspiciously nice or so rundown they wouldn't keep a person warm in winter. Jason had just left the former category; he was ninety-nine percent sure the apartment building was a front for a meth lab.
It was summertime. There was over a month left until school started. Jason was staying at a motel just outside of Gotham, but he needed an apartment desperately if he wanted to spend less than an hour on his commute.
"I can't believe I'm having these kinds of problems," he said to himself as he swung onto the seat of his motorcycle. He revved up the engine and made his way to the next apartment tour. This one was less bad than the others, and Jason starred the listing on his notepad. He might go for this one, if none of the others turned out to be better.
He didn't have to.
Talia was waiting outside the next apartment building, a key ring in hand. "I've already found an apartment for you," she said when Jason pulled up beside her.
"Really?" Jason took the keys. "This is in a nice area."
"Well, I wanted you to be safe." Talia smiled softly. "It's a block away from Gotham Academy. Damian can visit after school once it starts."
"Then let's go." Jason scooted forward so Talia could settle in beside him.
The drive took less than five minutes, and by the time they had arrived, Talia had recounted her last seven missions with the League. She had been unable to detach herself fully, like she'd been able to do with Damian, but she was working on disposing Ra's from the shadows.
"Sounds like you've been busy," Jason remarked as he parked his motorcycle in the parking garage next door.
"I'm getting close to my goal," said Talia.
"I'm glad. Ra's deserves to finally die, after all he's done to Dami." Jason checked the apartment number again. "Floor two, huh? Couldn't get me an apartment that didn't require me to take the stairs?"
"Show some gratefulness, habibi. It was difficult to procure this apartment for you. I had to convince the previous owner to move." Talia stopped at Jason's door. "He was stubborn."
"Wait." Jason's hands froze as he pushed the key into the lock. "You bought this apartment?"
Talia looked confused. "Of course I did."
"So I don't have to pay rent?" Jason turned the key and pushed open the door. The apartment was empty, but spacious. There was a kitchen to his left, a living area directly in front of him, and two closed doors to his right. He imagined one opened to a bedroom and the other to a bathroom.
"I did not want you to worry about such things." Talia crossed the threshold and immediately perched on the kitchen counter. "You will have enough on your plate, being in Gotham."
Jason shut his door with a frown. "Yeah . . ."
This was his city, but it was also Bruce's. Batman's. He hoped he would be able to avoid his old family forever, but somehow he doubted that would be the case. And if it was, he doubted they would want him back anyway.
And then there was the Joker. The thought made a shiver of fear run through Jason's body. How could he feel safe when that clown wasn't dead, but locked up in Arkham? He could escape anytime, any moment. And then it would be like Jason was fifteen again, lying on the floor of a warehouse as the Joker loomed over him with a crowbar.
What hurts more?
Forehand or backhand?
Talia's voice shook Jason from his thoughts. "Are you alright?" she asked.
Jason sighed. "I'm fine. Just—the Joker."
"Ah." Talia drummed her fingers against the countertop. "I can fix that problem. In fact, I was already planning to. Unless you would rather kill him yourself?"
"I—" Jason blinked. "You would do that?"
"Habibi." Talia sounded almost disappointed. "If you feel unsafe with him alive, then I will kill him in a heartbeat."
Jason didn't know how to respond to that, so he just opened his arms. Talia was hugging him within seconds. He buried his head in the crook of her shoulder, feeling safer than he had in a while. "I'd like you to kill him," he murmured. Talia's hand came up to stroke his hair.
"Consider it done."
* * *
The next day, Talia sent a text saying that the Joker was dead.
"Dead and cremated," Damian told Jason that afternoon. He had snuck away from the manor in order to see Jason's new apartment. "He cannot hurt you now."
Jason wrapped Damian in a hug.
* * *
By the time September rolled around, Jason had grown more comfortable in Gotham. He'd reacquainted himself with every important part of the city, and more unimportant parts besides. He still didn't like being back here, but it wasn't so bad. Knowing the Joker was dead certainly helped.
His death had been all over the news. Talia wasn't exactly subtle in killing him. She made sure to beat him to a bloody pulp in full view of a camera before cremating him on camera as well. Her identity was hidden, of course, but there was no doubt about it.
The Joker was dead.
Jason could have sworn everyone in Gotham breathed a collective sigh of relief when the news report broadcasted.
That was in July. In August, Jason reentered Gotham Academy for the first time. He had known teachers went back to school before the students, but that didn't stop it from feeling strange. The halls were strangely empty and eerily foreign, even if Jason distinctly remembered walking them before.
Most of the other teachers were quick to befriend him. Maria Morley, the art teacher, was the one he felt most comfortable with. She was just a year older than him and two years into teaching. Her classroom was right across from his. She was the one to help him decorate.
"It looks like a Shakespearean play threw up in here," she told Jason once they were finished.
"That's the idea," Jason said, pleased. He hadn't thought he would get a classroom—his theater classes had always been in the auditorium—but apparently, Gotham Academy had upgraded its theater program. This classroom was situated between the auditorium and a massive storage room that contained more props, set pieces, and costumes than Jason could count.
He was hoping to do a full inventory before school started.
"Are you excited?" Maria asked as they went out to the sub place across the street during their lunch break. The bracelets on her wrists jangled as she handed Jason's order over—she was an art teacher in every sense of the word, from her eccentric fashion to her colorful makeup. "Gotham Academy is a fun school to work at."
"Yeah, I am." Jason peeked in his sub to make sure the chef had left out the tomatoes as he had requested. There were no tomatoes. He took a bite. "It's been a while since I've been there—I did tell you that I went there when I was a kid, right?"
"Yeah." Maria flicked a piece of lettuce off her fingernail. "Eighth to tenth grade, right?"
"How did you remember that?"
"I'm like an elephant." Maria grinned like it was the funniest thing anyone had ever said. "I remember everything."
Well, Jason couldn't argue with that, so he just laughed and finished his lunch.
That was in August. Now it was the first of September, and Jason was nervous. School started right after Labor Day, which meant he had less than a week to mentally prepare himself to be teaching Gotham's rich kids—with a few poorer kids on scholarship mixed in. In Jason's experience, those students had always been the best ones, but he was going to try not to differentiate between the two groups. He was a teacher now. He had to be impartial.
Labor Day rolled around. He celebrated with Maria and Jean, the French teacher, who grew incredibly excited when Jason mentioned that he spoke French. Maria had been grumpy until Jason switched to Spanish, which Maria received much more cheerfully. Very little English was spoken that night.
The next day, Jason was in his classroom bright and early. His name—Mr. Peters—was written on the whiteboard. He chuckled a little at the name. It wasn't the most subtle—Peter was his middle name, after all—but he hadn't wanted to see an entirely foreign name on his college diploma, so he chose Peters.
It had been strange, the first time he taught, hearing his students call him that. He was used to it now, though. He was almost completely comfortable with it.
His first student entered the room at exactly 8:01, just a minute after the doors opened. She was blonde and short and seemed incredibly nervous. Jason smiled at her.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Mr. Peters.”