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As regularly as the general public loves to remind Jason that he came from the bad side of Gotham, grew up with the worst of the worst, and taunt him – to his face and in the tabloids, as well as behind his back – about his position in society, they often forget exactly what that means.
The first time it happened, Jason was about eleven years old, freshly adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Bruce himself decided to take Jason out to celebrate officially becoming Robin, of which Jason could pick the location. He had decided on a hole-in-the-wall book café. Things had gone downhill the moment Bruce had his back turned to pay for their drinks.
There was a sudden hand across Jason’s mouth and an arm around his waist. To his credit, Bruce noticed immediately and looked up just in time to see his son dragged out the door and into the alley. Rushing after them, flailing frantically and loudly in a pure Brucie Wayne fashion, he threw open the door to see the thugs – mildly put – getting their asses handed to them by a four-foot-something, scrawny and bony eleven-year-old.
See, training to be Robin taught Jason to fight properly. But growing up having to sneak, steal and scavenge for food? Most of the time he would end up having to fight for it. He’d learned at a very early age how to fight dirty. Jason was tiny, always had been. And he had to figure out on his own how to use any opponent’s size against them. Trained himself to see gaps and opportunities from a mile away and taking advantage of them.
So, yeah. Unlike Brucie and Richie Wayne, he never had to pretend to be a helpless, frightened little rich kid. He simply tapped into his old fighting style instead of ‘proper form,’ and took care of the assholes himself. By the time the police would show up – and the press because, c’mon, he’s Jason Todd-Wayne for fuck’s sake! – he’d be casually strolling away, leaving a gang of kidnappers on the ground in his wake.
Every time, he would give the cameras a Look™ and say, “I grew up in Crime Alley folks!” and then add, “this is why you don’t mess with a street kid,” with the most adorable sunny grin and innocent eyes before taking his father’s hand and walking off, chattering about whatever novel or school project he’s working on and simultaneously asking for ice-cream.
The frustrating part of it all is this-
They never fucking learn! The thugs and villains and whoever else are either too stupid, too reckless or too desperate (maybe even a combination of the three) to avoid their predecessors’ mistakes.
What’s the deal anyway? Why are they all so hell-bent on snatching the son of Bruce Wayne? Seriously, it’s getting old. Practically once a month or two, he would go on another little ‘adventure!’
One of the rare successful kidnappings – you know, where they actually succeeded in capturing him and getting him to a secondary location, or at least on the way to one – happened to be on the day before his twelfth birthday. Just as he exited the school gates.
Now, this had Jason especially pissed off. Like, really? Right now? Making quick work of his bindings, he relished in that first headbutt to the poor soul trying to grab him, talking and lecturing them on every mistake they made during this endeavour. To say that he was irritated would be putting it lightly. They were raining on his coming birthday (which would be under a roof instead of a bus stop shelter, with food and warmth instead of a carboard blanket and a growling stomach and- just like the perfect birthday he’d been wishing for ever since Catherine died) had him in the small space of the back of a moving van, and the motion sickness was already prodding at his tummy. Sue him for being a little extra ruthless with his insults and condescending comments.
He felt the van’s speed increasing at the same time as hearing police sirens and were those helicopter blades sounding above them?
Trying his luck, Jason grabbed a gun from a passed-out goon – pathetic, really – and turned on the safety. He used the butt of the weapon to smash the glass separating the back of the van from the front – how stupid of them to not invest in some reinforced glass – and climbing through. He slid into the driver’s lap before knocking him out and taking control of the vehicle to pull over.
The police cars screeched to a stop just as Jason hopped out of the driver’s seat. Bruce pushed past the police barrier followed by– was that Dick? Well, Happy Birthday to him after all. Jason met them in the middle and was immediately squished from both sides. Peeking up at Vicky Vale’s camera man from between his weeping big brother’s arm and his dad’s shoulder, he winked and said, “I grew up in Crime Alley, folks! This is why you don’t mess with a street kid!” with his normal sunny grin.
This is ridiculous.
Or maybe not quite. But somewhere between being gone for several years, ‘studying abroad,’ and coming back home. Jason Todd-Wayne is still the prime target for getting the attention of the richest man in the city. As far as he can tell, the villains figure that Bruce is most attached to him and is therefore more likely to cough up for him than anyone else. Jason thinks this is absurd, of course. But still. He remains the kid who can fight his way out of anything (even if the newer guys either didn’t get the memo or are just too dumb).
Jason and Dick are attending a charity gala as Brucie’s representatives as Bruce couldn’t make it due to some private reason. (re: League Business) It is just Jason’s luck that fucking Black Mask, of all people shows up with his small army of goons that holds everyone at gun point while the man himself walks right up to Jason and his brother who have remained standing even as Richie was a shaking, terrified, blubbering mess. Jason squares his shoulders as Roman approaches, but falters when Dick squeezes his wrist.
“Jay, p-please! Please, you can’t fight here. I’m scared you’ll g-get hurt!” he sniffs. But Jason catches the hidden warning: the people here would be in danger. So, Jason makes a show of rolling his eyes and walking ahead of the masked asshole to the exit. Turning back to sneer at the man, Jason drawls, “you, comin’ or what, fuckface?”
Mask stares for a moment longer before huffing and following, muttering a slew of insults including ‘insolent brat’ and ‘cocky little shit’ making Jason smirk as he leaves.
Roman Sionis has no idea what he’s in for.
The next morning, Jason Todd-Wayne himself is spotted exiting an ice-cream shop with his perpetually grumpy little brother attached to his hand. Unsurprisingly, but rudely, they are instantly swarmed. Over the tangle of shouted questions, he simply winks and announces, once again, “I grew up in Crime Alley, folks!” this time however, his smile takes on a dangerous glint as he lowers his voice, “this is why you don’t mess with a street kid.”
Pushing through the stunned crowd, Jason leads his little brother by the hand, “c’mon Dami, we still gotta get to the zoo!”
The kid, Damian Wayne doesn’t bother to hide his smug, condescending smirk from the people daring to invade his and his most respected brother’s space as they are properly reminded of their position in society.