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Running.
That's all he's ever known.
He hasn't stopped.
Not since the earliest things he remembers are of stinging, blazing pain.
He didn't stop when his father got dragged off to jail.
He didn't stop even when his addled mother took a pill too many.
..he couldn't fault her.
She tried her best. ..she really did.
Not even when he achieved 'freedom' before he'd even hit double digits.
He kept running.
He kept running.
...It was only when Batman caught him, that he slowed.
When instead of being cast aside like the street trash he thought himself to be.... He was given food. Shelter. ....a... family...
Something small blossomed in him that day.
A little flower of hope and joy. of belonging...... of love.
His pace was no longer at a run, with Bruce here. No, it was more akin to a jog.
He was taught to better defend himself, to channel all his rage and torment into fighting crime.
Into helping others.
They clashed quite alot.
Bruce did not believe in an eye for an eye.
He placed his faith in the police and the justice system of ALL things!
Jason did though.
Jason believed that all criminals should be rightfully punished. The justice system had never doled out a fair punishment. Rapists, abusers and pedophiles go free, whilst people who stole in an attempt to feed their starving families were locked up for years.
Batman and Robin were only to combat the rampant crime, to keep the people safe, Bruce would say.
They were not to be judge, jury and executioner. They were not to seek vengeance or hurt criminals more than they should.
At first, Jason could play off his little too forceful kicks and punches on not being able to properly control his strength.
Bruce caught on quick.
They fought again. And again. And again.
...And then came the day of Felipe Garzonas.
The smug, disgusting sack of shit that escaped any sort of justice due to his father's diplomatic immunity.
Robin goes to confront the man. The woman he raped had taken her own life.
Batman shows up not too long later, just in time to see Garzonas falling from his balcony, screaming.
They couldn't save him.
Despite maintaining that he had not pushed Garzonas, Batman puts the boy in timeout.
He is no longer jogging. His rage channelled into a breakneck sprint.
His fury was all-consuming, it wouldn't stop to listen, it wouldn't be stomped out.
The blossom burns with his anger.
He discovers that the woman he believed to be his biological mother was not.
He tracks down his birth mother. She's alive. Working with refugees in Ethiopia.
A few days later, he's found his birth mother. They had written one another briefly. He had told her of his exploits as Robin. She..seemed proud.
Her name was Sheila Haywood.
Jason was so happy to have someone that seemed to love him again.
Until Sheila handed him to the Joker.
The wayward Robin, so far away from home.
Nobody knowing of his whereabouts except the two of them.
He was hit again and again and again, tortured with a strip of metal as the woman who gave birth to him watched.
Meanwhile, Batman was tracking down his lost Robin. His child, his son.
He finds out about the warehouse. He makes a break for it.
There was no telling what that deranged clown would do.
He didn't even want to think about it.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Jason grunts as he resigns himself to his fate, dragging his trembling, battered body to stand infront of Sheila. They tried so desperately to escape. There were four seconds left,
He turns to Sheila, a broken and bloodied smile on his disfigured face. "I'll protect you." He croaks out, letting his eyes fall shut as darkness and pain consumed them both.
Batman makes it in time to see the warehouse explode.
He runs into the debris, desperately, frantically searching for his son. His son, his son, his son, where is he??? Where is his boy?
He spots a lump of yellow in the rubble.
His heart drops.
He dives, digging and clawing at the debris, throwing it aside haphazardly.
..He finds him.
He scoops the boy up into his arms, trembling as the boy's body was already growing cold.
He tries to feel for a pulse. For a breath. Anything.
Batman- no, Bruce Wayne sobs.
He wails. Screams as he clutches the corpse of Jason Todd.
His tears fall onto his son's body.
He was too late.
His poor boy.
His greatest mistake.
Oh how he had utterly failed his son.
The burnt blossom is wilted, crushed and ripped into pieces.
Jason Todd would run no more.