Fic: Unpetaled Among the Crocus (Jason Todd, PG)
Title: Unpetaled Among the Crocus
Summary: Jason doesn't fit.
Character: Jason Todd (Robin)
Rating: PG
Word count: 426
AN: For cmshaw, originally posted here. Prompt song: Cannibal's Hymn by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.
He wasn’t sure what drove him to it, but sometimes Jason would go down to Crime Alley in the daytime and try to remember what he’d been like when he lived here.
When he was around the snobby and disdainful rich folks that Bruce had to socialize with - for the reputation, he always said, but Jason thought he’d do a helluva better job ruining his reputation amongst those people if he spent his time around real people out in the real parts of Gotham, rather than doing the same playboy stunts over and over - he was always certain of who he was and where he’d come from. He was the son of a criminal and he’d grown up street-rough, and they never let him forget it.
He didn’t let them forget it, either, as Alfred always admonished him afterwards, brushing cigarette ash off his custom made suit.
But when it was just him and Bruce and Alfred wandering around that big old mansion... Jason got comfortable. He didn’t think anything of walking on rugs that cost more than his family’s entire apartment and all its contents had, he ate expensive food off elegant plates, and those years of scrimping for the slightest luxury seemed far behind him.
So he came back here, back to what he claimed was his home but that felt like a foreign battleground anymore, and watched kids eye him warily and thieves brand him an easy mark. He was an outsider, now.
Everywhere, Jason was an outsider.
No one down here even cared who Jason Todd was. He had no friends, no family, nothing left here, and despite the unfamiliar feeling of standing below looming buildings and not knowing what eyes were on him above...
He still called this home, because if he wasn’t some kid Bruce Wayne had plucked out of the slums, then who the fuck was he? He only felt like Robin when he was wearing the stupid outfit Dick had designed, and half the time Robin didn’t feel like a hero anymore.
Jason sometimes thought that if he’d been the first Robin instead of laughing cheerful Dick, then the title would get a whole hell of a lot more respect.
Tonight he’d come back here in costume, and tonight he would feel like he fucking owned this city, this neighborhood, these alleys. Tonight Robin would do his part to keep this neighborhood livable.
Today, Jason didn’t know where he belonged, but it wasn’t Crime Alley. Not anymore.
He didn’t know why he missed it.
Summary: Jason doesn't fit.
Character: Jason Todd (Robin)
Rating: PG
Word count: 426
AN: For cmshaw, originally posted here. Prompt song: Cannibal's Hymn by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.
He wasn’t sure what drove him to it, but sometimes Jason would go down to Crime Alley in the daytime and try to remember what he’d been like when he lived here.
When he was around the snobby and disdainful rich folks that Bruce had to socialize with - for the reputation, he always said, but Jason thought he’d do a helluva better job ruining his reputation amongst those people if he spent his time around real people out in the real parts of Gotham, rather than doing the same playboy stunts over and over - he was always certain of who he was and where he’d come from. He was the son of a criminal and he’d grown up street-rough, and they never let him forget it.
He didn’t let them forget it, either, as Alfred always admonished him afterwards, brushing cigarette ash off his custom made suit.
But when it was just him and Bruce and Alfred wandering around that big old mansion... Jason got comfortable. He didn’t think anything of walking on rugs that cost more than his family’s entire apartment and all its contents had, he ate expensive food off elegant plates, and those years of scrimping for the slightest luxury seemed far behind him.
So he came back here, back to what he claimed was his home but that felt like a foreign battleground anymore, and watched kids eye him warily and thieves brand him an easy mark. He was an outsider, now.
Everywhere, Jason was an outsider.
No one down here even cared who Jason Todd was. He had no friends, no family, nothing left here, and despite the unfamiliar feeling of standing below looming buildings and not knowing what eyes were on him above...
He still called this home, because if he wasn’t some kid Bruce Wayne had plucked out of the slums, then who the fuck was he? He only felt like Robin when he was wearing the stupid outfit Dick had designed, and half the time Robin didn’t feel like a hero anymore.
Jason sometimes thought that if he’d been the first Robin instead of laughing cheerful Dick, then the title would get a whole hell of a lot more respect.
Tonight he’d come back here in costume, and tonight he would feel like he fucking owned this city, this neighborhood, these alleys. Tonight Robin would do his part to keep this neighborhood livable.
Today, Jason didn’t know where he belonged, but it wasn’t Crime Alley. Not anymore.
He didn’t know why he missed it.