Chapter Text
“Ma!” The window was open, so hopefully she could hear him. God, how he hoped she could hear him. He had officially outdone himself in the screw up department. Outdone his father, even. He hadn’t thought that was possible, but here he was. Dad just got caught by the cops. Jason had to get caught by Batman. Which meant he was fucked worse than Catherine Linton when she married and moved to Wuthering Heights. And he had only made it worse by whacking him with the tire iron. This was decidedly in the realm of needing his mother’s help. When she was good, Ma always knew the right course of action. She was the only Todd with a head on her shoulders. However smart he and Dad were, they always let their emotions get in the way. Jason decided that the speed of going up the fire escape was worth the noise it would make. He rushed up the stairs two at a time and ducked into the apartment through the all-vital open window.
“Ma?” A lamp had been left on, but all the other lights were off. Had he been less frantic, he would have noticed. Goddamn Batman and his fuckass car. His mother could be asleep, but he rather doubted it. She was good about waiting up for him, even when he’d rather she didn’t. He tried to think if she had said something about going out, but came up empty. And in a split second the Bat didn’t matter anymore.
Jason went to the phone, a dinky green landline that the landlord lumped operating costs of in their rent, and started going through the list of his mothers friends and connections. He dialed the diner where she was working, in case she picked up a shift while he was out and forgot a note, he called the neighbours hoping one had seen her, he even called Dr. Thompkin’s clinic just in case. The receptionist said she hadn’t been there, but something in her voice made Jason sure that he had one more call to make. He punched in the number and each key made his blood run colder.
“Narrow’s Bar?” said the man on the phone. Emil, by the sounds of it. From what he could hear above the pounding base.
“I’m looking for Cathy, she there?”
There were a few moments of rustling and muffled voices before his mother’s bright voice was loud and clear in his ear.
“Jay, baby!” Too bright, she was definitely not sober. The only consolation was, through the phone at least, he thought it was alcohol and nothing stronger. This could be a bad moment, not a full spiral.
“Hey, Ma. You got a way home?” It was good that Emil was working. He’d keep her safe at the bar. Once he knew about that last leg, Jason would be able to sleep easier.
“‘Course Jay, I always get back don’t I?”
Jason let his forehead hit the wall. Better than getting angry with her or punching something. “Is someone driving you? A name, that we both know?”
“Well…I’m still working on that.” she trailed off and Jason knew he wasn’t going to get to stay in.
“You sit tight, I’m going to come get you. Okay? Now put me back with Emil.”
Jason told Emil not to let her leave until he got there and hung up the phone. He started up the stairs to Mrs. Walker’s apartment before he remembered that she had gone to visit her son in Metropolis and taken her car with her. He paused mid step and let out a breath. The bar was about a twenty five-minute walk from their building. He could do that easy. Maybe his mother was more sober than she sounded on the phone. Maybe Emil would cut her off knowing Jason was on the way. Maybe he could carry her—Jason wasn’t that big a kid, but his mother had never really regained the weight from the drugs or the cancer. It was doable without a car, he reasoned. It had to be. There wasn’t much of a choice. Unless— fuck, it would be ballsy. But hadn’t that been ballsy to begin with?
Jason raced back to where he had left the batmobile. Miraculously sans Batman, likely still out there searching for his tire thief. Not even Robin to stand guard, and that had Jason wondering if maybe the rumours were. The tires he had popped off were still there though. And the tire iron and knuts. Jason sighed. He really wasn’t used to doing it this way yet. He had gotten a job at Ralph’s Garage, but so far they just had him up front or fetching things. Driving it, he supposed, might be a bit of a challenge. Someone like the B-man probably had a super tricked out ride. He thought he could figure it out. Surely would, when he hotwired it. Batman might leave his ride parked in crime alley, but he couldn’t be stupid enough to leave the keys in it. If a thing like that even had keys.
Just as he was tightening the last knut, a thick gloved hand landed on his shoulder. Jason practically jumped clear out of his skin. He turned to face a glaring Batman. Scary, but not the shit-your-pants level fear local goons always described. Maybe Jason was more immune to it then they were, and got used to it in one go. Maybe they were editorializing to make themselves look better, in some twisted way. Maybe Batman was intrigued by his guts. Who could say, really?
“I need to borrow your car,” Jason told Batman before he could say anything to him. If this was going to work, Jason needed to be in control of the situation from the get go. Never let them see you sweat, or whatever.
“Why?” He was curious. Curious was good. It kept Jason from getting beat up and dropped, hog-tied, in front of his nearest GCPD precinct.
“My Ma’s at Narrow’s and I need to get her home in one piece.”
And that was pretty much what it took to get Batman to give him a ride. At least, when he was editorializing to make himself look better. And the story was better if it stopped there as well. That way he didn’t have to explain the first five minutes of tense and awkward silence before he was asked: “Was there a reason you needed my tires?”
“Ma’s still waiting for her paycheque to come from her new diner job.” There was no point in lying. Not to Batman. Definitely not in his own damned car. “It’s not ‘til the end of the month. We gotta eat and pay bills until then and I can only do so much.”
Jason paused to consider sharing the last piece. He’d been thinking it awhile but never properly voiced it. But this was a surreal night, maybe it would flow out into the evening like nothing had come out of his mouth. “Plus I think she’s getting sick again. Paying for proper medication’s important.”
“For you or for her?” Batman asked. Like a douche. But also, not like a douche. Whatever tone he’d managed was irritating as hell. At least Jason didn’t need to provide an answer. They pulled up to the bar and he tucked-and-rolled right out of there.
It took a minute or two to get past the bouncer, who was a lot more hesitant to let in a sixteen year old kid when the Batmobile was within view, and then a few more to locate his mother and get her across the dance floor and back out into the still night air. But she was dressed right for a mom at a bar and was walking straight enough to satisfy Jason. She balked a little when she realized who their lift was from, but Jason talked her through it with a little help from his sidekick the Bat. They got her in the back with a batbucket, which Jason didn’t think she would need but which was insisted on by Big Bat. Once assured she was settled, Jason slipped back into the front seat.
Batman started up the car and got them back on the road. He hit one of the myriad of buttons on the dash and a tinny voice said ‘sound proof: on’. Fuck, Jason thought.
He thought it again when asked, “Are you safe to be dropped off with her?”
He was, Jason was quick to assure. It was reflex, by this point. After the OD, when Jason was twelve and she’d very nearly died, he was put in care. He kept running away to go back with her, had learned the script they wanted to hear until they were willing to at least pretend it was true. It helped that it was always getting truer. Losing him and the hospital trip had really scared her, and his mom did her best to keep clean. She’d had a few slips but had been good for the past year up until now. A few drinks, which was all this was, had been the cherry on a rattling night, but nothing she couldn’t handle. He’d talk to her tomorrow, or call his dad in prison and get him to talk to her, and they could get on with it. And if she was sick, and going back to old habits, they had Doctor Thompkins now, who treated what she could and got them on social programs for what she couldn’t. At least he seemed to believe him, actually, and not just gone along with what he said. Batman should be better than lazy social workers.
Then something caught his eye. “Hey, pull over a sec.”
Batman listened and was over to the curb with a screech of the tires. Jason hit the same sound button that Batman had and told his mom he’d be just a second before hopping out of the car. In the alley, a large man was brandishing a knife at two teenagers. He shouted to get the assailants attention and goaded him to come for himself. It was probably a bad idea, but the loom of Batman added to his bravery. The man dropped his knife and ran, the teens having already done so the minute the blade had turned from them. Jason turned uncertain towards Batman, who hung back towards the car still.
“Should we go after him?”
The Bat frowned, “With his footwork, I can’t imagine this wasn’t his first go of it. One big scare should do it.”
“If you say so, boss.”
They both got back into the car and drove in silence until they reached the apartment building. Not like before though, more of a contemplative silence. It still unnerved him slightly though. When they slid into the alley to park, Batman put on the sound proofing once more.
“Jason,” he said, “I have an offer for you.”