Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Collections:
Sushi fics
Stats:
Published:
2021-06-12
Words:
1,295
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
31
Kudos:
1,470
Bookmarks:
156
Hits:
12,558

Frygt

Summary:

When he gets caught stealing the Batmobile tires Jason assumes the worst. Bruce is trying but also a well-meaning idiot sometimes. The misunderstandings pile up and only get worse.
They will get there at some point.

Notes:

To my lovely nibling, payment for being good and taking care of yourself. Didn't mean to take so long <3 Hope this is all you wanted it to be.

Frygt means fear in Danish

(See the end of the work for more notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

He can feel the concrete through the many holes in his jeans. Rough and cold, painful pricks where loose stones are stabbing into his shins and knees. 

Jason is breathing too fast. 

He keeps gagging on the smells. Rotten food. Spoiled milk. Urine. Hints of motor oil. The nauseating sweetness of marijuana that sticks to the back of his throat. 

His legs feel numb. It’s a cold night, but it could be the warmest summer day and Jason doubts he would be trembling any less. Shivers of fear running down his back.

Pulse pounding in his chest, throat, ears, everywhere. The throb going out to the tips of his fingers. Like every piece of him has its own overwhelming heartbeat. 

He can’t run like this. 

There is nowhere to run.

Jason curls his arms tighter around himself, like they will be enough to protect him. Like his bones won't splinter apart like dry wood under the first blow of reinforced gauntlets.

The tire iron is out of reach, tossed to the mouth of the ally. 

Trying to fight back was so stupid. Jason knows that. Knows that if you can’t run, unless you're sure of winning, giving up is often the least painful option. Avoiding extra punishment is worth the burning humiliation. 

He couldn’t help it. 

And now he hit Batman in the knee. He’s seen gang members limping home from the hospital. What those firsts can do to a grown man. The crusader’s said to avoid killing, but It will be a miracle if Jason leaves this encounter without permanent reminders of it. 

“Please.” It’s like his voice belongs to another person. “Please. Please. Please.” It’s the only word he can force past the tight lump of panic clogging up his throat, and he can’t stop saying it. 

He won’t get out of this without punishment, Jason knows that, but please don’t do permanent damage. Please leave him well enough to drag himself to the doc’s clinic afterward. Please don’t leave him defenseless in the alley. 

There are worse things than a beating. 

Gotham might never be truly dark, but it’s nothing but shadows. Each one hiding a different monster. Batman is holding his empty hands up, like he needs a weapon to hurt Jason worse than anyone else has ever managed before. A menacing silhouette straight out of a nightmare. 

“Calm down lad.” 

The gravelly voice only makes Jason shake harder. A whimper escaping him. Biting down hard on his lips to keep more pathetic noises from spilling from his mouth. He’s looking weak enough already. 

Batman crunches down, still so much bigger than him. Jason wants to scramble backward but can’t get his body to move. 

“You’re safe. I won’t hurt you.” 

Jason can’t stop a bitter snort, like he hasn’t hurt that lie before. 

It’s hard to read someone who has half their face covered, but Batman’s smile seems mostly amused. Jason’s not sure that’s a good thing. Even with his eyes hidden, Jason feels them like a cold touch roaming over him.

Most of the gravel has left Batman’s voice. “You look hungry, if you tell me where my tires are, I will buy you dinner.” 

Jason stops breathing. 

The words spin around his mind, echoes of similar offers joining the maelstrom treating to drown him. An earnest voice, but cold eyes. A deep voice shouting at him from a passing car. Evading a drunk's hands. Rooming eyes making him feel dirtier than the filth of the streets ever did. A grip of red-hot iron on his hip. Scorching touch trapping him there as nauseating suggestions are purred into his ear. 

Lungs burning, but the rest of him feels frozen solid. Numbness spreading, emotions locked behind a wall of ice. 

Why would Batman be any different? 

When Jason forces air down his throat it’s a distant thing. Like he’s controlling someone else's body. Looking through another's eyes at a world not his own. Nothing seems real. 

“Counteroffer, I tell you where the tires are and you let me go.” His voice sounds hollow. 

Batman seems less than happy with that. “Who is taking care of you?” 

Jason shrugs. Threadbare clothes, greasy hair, hollow cheeks and all of him covered in grime. His lack of a home is obvious. 

“The street is no place for a child.” 

Jason doesn’t answer that. The streets might not be safe, but for an orphan the foster homes are even worse. Batman is too involved in the underworld to be ignorant of that, so he must have another point. 

Jason can’t feel anything below the knees, even his fingers are numb, clutching the fabric of his hoodie too hard for too long. He wants this to be over before the eerie calm leaves him again.

Batman opens and closes his mouth a few times before, “let me take you to the police station, get you some help.” 

That makes a strange sort of sense. All the fancy gear can’t be cheap, it also explains why the police don't try very hard to bring Batman in. He has taken down trafficking rings before, or maybe just taken the competition out of play. Even the smartest street kid might let their guard down around the vigilante. It’s probably a very lucrative business they got going. 

It’s painfully obvious Jason can’t stop Batman from doing whatever the man wants to. But he has fought too hard and long to avoid this very fate to just give into it now. Not that he has much to barter with. 

“Why not keep me?” Jason licks his lips. “Bet you could give me all the help I would ever need.” 

Cracks in the ice. 

One man will always be better than many. Batman is massive, big frame promising pain Jason can barely fathom. He will have no chance of getting away but a better chance of surviving. Robin did. Maybe Batman will even be gentle. 

Warm in his eyes. The burning of unshed tears. It’s getting harder to hang on to the numbness. 

Batman is staring at him. Could be carved out of stone for how little emotion he shows. 

The second's tick by. Sounds of the city in the background, the distant wailing of sirens. 

“Would you-“ Batman hesitates long enough for Jason to think he won’t continue. “Would you like to come home with me?”

It’s more a show of teeth than a smile. “Can’t think of anything better.” That’s a blatant lie, but Jason can also think of things a whole lot worse. 

Batman slowly nods looking a little dazed. Probably can’t believe his luck.

Jason would rather get this over with.”Tires are two blocks over under a tarp.”

Batman looks pleased. Moving slowly closer. Jason flinches as heavy fabric settles over his shoulders. Dark and still warm with body heat. 

“We will stop for food on the way home, think about what you would like.” The soft smile looks weird on the vigilante, before he turns around and leaves the ally. 

He should run. 

Jason shifts, legs exploding in pins and needles as he leans on the car, tugging the cape closer around him like a weighted blanket. 

Batman doesn’t know his name yet, Jason might make it, might be able to avoid him.

He’s too exhausted to try. 

Life has been a battle one way or another for as long as he can remember. One long struggle to survive another day. It feels like it’s all caught up with him at once. Head flopping back against the car door, his body feels like lead, each limb too heavy to move. Jason has finally stopped fighting and he doesn’t have the energy left to start up again. 

Hopefully, he didn't just make a bad decision worse.

Notes:

Bruce knows something is wrong, but it’s totally overshadowed by having a new kid to take care of. His adoption tendencies are out in full force.
After a week of the horror and tension building up, Jason can’t take it anymore and tries to run away. Turns out the manor next door isn’t as empty as it seems.
Tim ends up calling Dick to help convince Jason everything is alright, Bruce is the good guy.
Dick is confused, but those kids are adorable and need all the love. He always wanted siblings.
Bruce takes on the police and foster system with a vengeance. Robin is passed proudly from one brother to the next and nobody dies.