Just had a little “what-if” moment of “what if Chip and Dale actually went through the portal in Disney Castle and found their old racing hero?” and wanted to do a short comic for it!
word count: 4.9k (yikes)
warnings: implied sexual content, a little bit of angst, jason panics a tad
Clearly Jason didn't learn from leaving his comm behind in your apartment - not when he leaves you behind in the Cave.
Part I
“We really don’t have to go and see it, you know? Like it’s really not that cool, it’s actually just a cave.”
Jason’s words do nothing to deter you as you tug insistently at his hand in yours, digging your heels into the floorboards in a feeble attempt to drag him to… well, you’re not sure. Admittedly, it’s your first time in Wayne Manor, but you can’t imagine the entrance to the Batcave is in his childhood bedroom. Naturally, Jason doesn’t move an inch, just staring down at you with a playfully irked look and a sadistic twinkle in his eye.
“Jay, come on, you told me we can only stay here until 10,” you plead, eliciting nothing more than a quirk of his brow, “It’s 9 now! I want to have a proper look.”
You had been desperate to see the Manor, and it had taken months of begging on your hands and knees to get him to finally take you. Unsurprisingly, he was still set firmly on the fact that you would not be meeting his family, especially after your shenanigans on the comms, and that had served as his excuse for the 3 months since. You were nothing if not determined, however – it was part of what he loved so much about you in the first place.
You’d set it up perfectly. There wasn’t a length you hadn’t gone to in an attempt to get exactly what you wanted. Jason’s favourite meal cooked and ready on the table as soon as he got home from Dick’s after going over a case, a new special edition copy of Wuthering Heights stashed on the bookshelf, you’d worn the sweatpants and vest combination that you knew drove him crazy without coming across as trying too hard.
He'd not even made it through the front door before he said it, barely even batting an eye.
“Nice try, but I’m not taking you to the Manor.”
Your jaw had flung open. It was almost offensive, just how quickly he could see through your efforts.
It hadn’t been enough to phase you, however, and you were prepared to go to the extreme. Every advance he’d tried to make that evening, whether it be a delicate kiss behind your ear or a hand pawing at your hip, you’d ignored pointedly. It was modern torture, as he would skim a hand up and down your thigh on the couch and you could do nothing but stay statuesque, staring forward at the TV without any indication that you had even noticed. Fuck the stupid sweatpants and vest combination.
He'd been smug at the start, the corner of his lip twitching as he’d felt your entire body tense, desperate to not give in to his ministrations. Jason wasn’t famed for his patience however, and it wasn’t long until he was huffing and puffing and practically whining for you to pay attention to him. He’d finally given in when he’d grabbed a handful of your ass and you’d done nothing other than stare at him; he’d scrunched his face together and slammed it down against your shoulder in defeat.
“Fine, fine, I’ll take you to see the fuckin’ manor.”
It hadn’t taken long for things to get, ah, heated after that. Yes, technically, it was blackmail – but you couldn’t spend so much time around the notorious Red Hood and not pick up a few quirks here and there.
The Manor was more beautiful than you ever could’ve imagined from the photos, with its sprawling hallways, crafted arches and crooning gargoyles. It was plain to see that it was cared for meticulously, every room garnished with lavish decorations – but that it was also lived in, from the odd sock sticking out of someone’s bedroom door to the worn oak flooring from years of people’s feet trapsing back and forth. It’s almost difficult to imagine Jason spending such a significant part of his upbringing here, that the maze of twists and turns could ever be committed to memory.
He'd postponed as much as he could, claiming he was waiting for the perfect time, and finally it had arrived. Bruce was away on business, having taken Alfred to accompany him, and the rest were out of the house until patrol this evening – Dick was working, Steph and Cass had gone to the cinema, Tim and Duke were occupied with God knows what at Tim’s apartment, and Damian was with Jon. The Manor was completely empty when you’d arrived, just as Jason had anticipated.
Which is how you end up where you are now, dropping to your knees with hands clasped together, begging Jason to take you to the Batcave as he tries his best to remain stoic. In a flash, he crouches to hoist you upwards, prompting you to let out a scream as he jostles you over his shoulder, relenting, and grumbles softly as he marches towards an old Grandfather clock.
“I just don’t get it,” he sighs, fiddling with the face of the clock until you can hear a soft click, and feel a rush of frigid air that makes your hair stand on end. He sets you down steadily, offering his hand out once again for you to take.
“You don’t get it because it’s normal to you,” you huff, making a start towards the cavernous stairway, “Most people don’t have a giant, military grade bunker underneath their childhood home.”
Jason continues to protest as you make your way down, but you’re too awestruck to even acknowledge whatever his complaint may be. It’s positively sublime, with its craggy ceiling that stretches out into the blackness further than your eyes can make out. The various cars, bikes and even the Batmobile lay dormant in a circle in the corner, only exacerbating the giddy feeling growing in your stomach.
You almost slip over when you see the dinosaur.
Jason seems to tense behind you, “Be careful, it won’t recognise you, so you have to move really slowly. Its eyesight is pretty bad.”
You can feel the blood drain out of every limb as you turn to face Jason in absolute horror. It’s frantic, as your hands grapple to cling onto his jacket, feeling as though your brain has just been tossed into a blender. It seems like a major oversight, failing to mention the live dinosaur that guarded –
You can hear a low, breathy chuckle from above you.
“You’re a dick!” You practically scream, slamming your hands against his chest in an act of defiance. He doesn’t falter, obviously, and instead just allows his laughs to ring out louder as they echo around the cave.
“Aww baby,” he coos, and there’s a shit-eating grin lining his lips, “I didn’t think you were so gullible.”
You offer him little more than a deadpan look, “Of everything I’ve learnt since we’ve been together, a live dinosaur is not out of the realm of possibility.”
With a hefty sigh, Jason commences his tour, showing you round every nook and cranny of the place. It’s fascinating, the technology lying dormant underground that you’re fairly certain could change the world given the opportunity. It seems such a leap from your own life, almost incomprehensible, especially as Jason lists off different features of the Cave with a dry tone and the heavy implication that it doesn’t impress him much. You’re reminded once again of how far-removed Jason’s life is from your own when he leaves the bubble of your apartment, the altered world he occupies on a day-to-day basis.
You noticed that he skirts away from the corner where various suits stand displayed up against the walls; you know better than to question why.
Eventually, he comes to a halt in front of the computer, stretching his arms out and beckoning you in with an impatient huff. You oblige, happily, and Jason tucks his head atop yours. The two of you remain there for a few moments, basking in the silence and bliss of each other’s company. Despite being in such an alien environment, the thrumming of his heartbeat is enough to remind you that home carves out a place in the shape of Jason Todd, wherever you may be.
“We’ve still got half an hour to kill,” Jay hums, and you can hear the mischief creeping into his tone, “Want to watch videos of everyone failing dramatically on the Batcomputer?”
“I can’t believe it’s called the fucking Batcomputer.”
“So fucking stupid.”
Jason releases you to begin fiddling with the controls as you glance around awkwardly, still struggling to fully comprehend the surroundings.
As he cues the video up, starting with a thumbnail of Tim, well, screaming as he seems to be falling from the top of a building, Jason turns to look at you with a sharkish smirk, “I’m gonna go get us some snacks. Don’t touch anything.”
He disappears quickly up the steps, taking them two at a time, and you realise as soon as he’s gone that its easier said than done. You take the opportunity to leer over the giant keyboard, inspecting all of the various buttons and their vague, nonsensical organising system.
It’s all very serene until the bats start to shriek behind you.
It sends you lurching forward in a panic, arms stuck out in front of you out of instinct, a pathetic attempt to try and cushion your fall. The screech of metal on metal is almost instant as you make contact with various buttons, and you can see the metal shields beginning to lock down on the side of the cave that backs into the Manor. It’s fight or flight that kicks in, as you attempt to sprint your way up the stairs before the metal gate can crash down over the doorway. It’s futile really, there would be no point in a security system that gave the perpetrator plenty of time to get in or out.
Your phone begins to ring as soon as the juddering of metal silences.
“Baby – and I mean this with all the love in the world – what the fuck did you press?” Jason’s voice is stern and swift, and it’s enough to make your own catch in your throat a little. It’s clearly concern that marks his words, but it does little to lessen their severity.
“Jay, I don’t… I don’t know…” You huff out, frustrated, “The bats… they scared me and then… Am I gonna be trapped in here?” Your voice begins to wobble, and you can practically feel Jason softening through the screen.
“No, baby, it’s – fine. But Bruce is the only one with clearance to take the Cave out of lockdown. Shit. I’m gonna have to –”
“What the fuck was that?” A voice rings out behind you, causing you to jump embarrassingly high.
Jason’s fury is instantaneous, “No, no, there’s no fucking way. Absolutely not. Are you fucking kidding me?”
It’s only when you spin on your heel that you see them, pooling in from the other entrance to the Cave.
It’s every single one of Jason’s siblings, likely filing in for the nightly patrol.
Dick’s face is the only one that lights up in visible recognition, the others staring at you either like you’ve come from another planet, or that they’re ready to jump you for being some rogue civilian intruding on their lair.
Naturally, Dick is the one to approach you first, calling out your name in confusion, “What are you doing here? Where’s Jason?”
“Are you shitting me?”
“That’s her!”
“Wow, Jason’s punching, seriously.”
“I’m not incorrect in believing that is the name of Todd’s partner?”
“All of you,” Jason’s voice isn’t even on speaker, but it bellows through the phone loud and clear enough to silence everyone, “I am warning you. Fuck off. Leave her alone.”
Dick pays no mind to Jason’s words as he wraps you in a welcoming hug, almost lifting you off the ground with the sheer force of it. You can vaguely hear the incessant shouting echoing out from your phone, clutched in a hand that remains pinned at your sides, and it’s enough to spark laughter in the other Bats that seem to have planted themselves in the general vicinity.
“Is it alright if I speak to him?” Dick questions kindly, “I might be able to help with whatever has happened to get us all trapped in here.”
You hesitate slightly, not sure who you’d be betraying more if you handed your phone over: Dick by exposing him to the wrath of your boyfriend, or Jason by forcing him to talk to his brother. Eventually, you sigh, planting your phone in Dick’s open hand with a wince, mentally preparing yourself for the tirade that is sure to follow.
“Hellooo? Little Wing?”
Unintelligible shouting bleeds out of the phone, Dick lifting it away from his ear ever so slightly with a shudder.
“No, I didn’t steal it from her. She gave it to me.”
More shouting.
“Jay, can you just tell me what happened?”
That quietens Jason a little, and you can envision his icy, biting words.
“Shit. We’re gonna have to call Bruce.”
“I KNOW, DICKHEAD!” – you can hear that one. More rumbling follows.
“Okay, okay, I’m putting you on speaker.”
Dick pulls the phone down in front of him, pausing slightly to give the rest of the brood a sympathetic smile before he presses the button.
“I swear to God if any of you go anywhere near her. Don’t even talk to her. If I find out you looked at her – I promise you, you will not be able to run quick enough to get away.”
It’s Steph that marches forward with a huff, attempting to snatch the phone out of Dick’s hand, “Stop being such a bitch, Jason. You’re not going to kill us because we talked to your girlfriend.”
“We should have been allowed to interrogate her long ago, Todd, for security purposes, of course.” It’s Damian that pipes up next, seeming to appear out of the shadows to grasp at the phone Dick seems to be struggling to hold onto.
Within seconds, it turns into all out warfare. Every single one of them, bar Duke and Cass who stand off to the side offering you very understanding smiles, is wrapped in a tangle of flailing limbs – and you can still hear Jason yelling out from the phone itself, taking the time to threaten each of his siblings personally. It’s absolute unbridled chaos; you can barely make out who is where in the blur of colours scrapping around in a heap. It derails so quickly when you spot a hand that you suspect belongs to Damian sticking up proudly from amongst the rabble, phone clawed between his fingers. Tim sends a well-placed punch to the crook of his arm.
The phone falls. It shatters.
Before even a second can pass, you hear the ear-splitting clang from the top of the stairs, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Jason tore through the metal with his bare hands with the force of the impact. Seconds later, phones begin to ring in quick succession: first Dick, then Cass, then Tim… none of them answer. Dick is the only one to even glance down at his screen, typing out a quick text before shoving it back in his pocket.
You take the moment to stare longingly towards the doorway at the top of the stairs. In spite of the egregiousness of the situation, you can feel the worry for your boyfriend threatening to overflow in your throat. You know deep down he doesn’t believe that his siblings would ever do anything to harm you (even if it is out of fear for their own lives), but you know him, you know he must be terrified right now. And with your phone now a destroyed mess on the ground, there’s little you can do to soothe it. It makes your ribs feel as though they are collapsing in on your heart.
When you turn back to face the rest of the Bats, the grins that mark their faces are downright evil.
“So, what do you guys like, do together?” Steph pipes up from her place in the semi-circle, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
It’s, quite frankly, a strange set up; you sit in the chair at the Batcomputer as the rag-tag group of vigilantes are scattered across the floor around you, legs crossed and slumped over enraptured by your every word. It had been at least an hour since your interrogation had started by all other than Dick, who had stepped to the side initially to call in a few favours for the Gotham patrol while everyone was incapacitated. It had started with all the basic questions about you: where you’re from, what you do for work, your parents’ names, your blood type, your weapon of choice. You steel yourself, knowing that the prying into your relationship was now only just commencing.
“Uhm… what do you mean what do we do together?”
“Spar?”
“Firing range?”
“No, it’s probably intel collection, right?”
You have to hide behind your hands to stifle a giggle, “No, we don’t really do any of those things. We, well, we have dinner together most nights. We watch films together. We both get on with our work at the dining table, sometimes. Occasionally, when Jason has the night off, we’ll go out on a date –”
You’re cut off by the roaring laughter that seems to overcome every single person sat in front of you, even Dick fighting a small smile.
“That’s all so like, normal,” Tim steadies himself with a hand on the ground, “I didn’t think he was capable of normal.”
The questions flow thick and fast after that, a torrent of voices calling out constantly like a gaggle of school children.
“What’s his favourite meal?”
“Lasagna.”
“Where does he keep his suit?”
“Lock box. Under the bed.”
“What colour is his toothbrush?”
“Red, obviously.”
“What’s the address of your apartment?”
You falter slightly at that one, pausing to throw everyone a sheepish grin. It strikes you all at once, the honesty of their questions – how little they really know about their brother outside of his vigilantism. Dick is the only one who seems to nod in recognition, the only one who’s known Jason long enough to have had a glimpse between the crack in his armour.
“You guys don’t know where he lives? Aren’t you all detectives?” You question, not meaning to come across rude, just genuinely surprised.
A few of them bite out a laugh at that, a few of them glower at you, but it’s Dick that speaks for the group earnestly, “Jason has put a lot of effort in to ensure he can only be found when he wants to be. Trust me, it’s not through lack of trying.”
The silence lingers briefly, hanging heavy in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.
“What do you do…” There’s a hesitation in Tim’s voice as it creeps out with all the wariness of someone reaching out to pet a rabid dog, “…when he gets, you know, angry? Aggressive?”
That throws you for a loop, and it takes you more than a few seconds to recollect yourself. It’s not that you didn’t know what Jason was capable of, you were under no illusion that the blood he came home stained with was the result of more than superficial spats. You know that he’s a deadly force to be reckoned with, that most consider him to be a hurricane striking through the land, as destructive as he is untameable. It wasn’t a part of him you would ever try to deny, not at the cost of removing such a big chunk of what made him the man that you love.
But, thus far, he had spared you from seeing it with your own eyes.
Sure, you had arguments, like every couple did. Angry words thrown back and forth to be regretted later on when you ultimately both skulked into bed together, tired of the hostility. On the few and far in-between occasions that it had gotten overly antagonistic, Jason would remove himself. Often without a word, he would pick himself up from wherever he was perched and walk out the front door. The first time he’d done it, you’d panicked, fearing that he was leaving you, but you’d soon realised that it was more akin to a self-sacrificing act of chivalry – the need to spare you from his wrath at his own expense.
“He doesn’t,” you start slowly, well aware of the eager eyes boring into every part of you, “He’s… that’s not who he is. Not to me.”
“And you accept the burden that accompanies a man like Todd?” There’s a snideness in Damian’s words that even in the past hour or so you’d come to realise were just a part of his nature, but it doesn’t stop the flash of red that clouds your vision.
“He’s not a burden,” you bite, relishing somewhat in the way they all seem to recoil in surprise, “Nothing about him is a burden. He’s the sum of many parts, and, yes, many of those parts are complicated, but that doesn’t make him a liability.”
The guilt settles in your stomach straight away, as you scan round at their dejected faces: yes, they could be cruel in their admonishments of Jason, his methods and who he is, but it strikes you like an arrow when you realise that they are a family. His family. They just want him to be a part of it.
They snap their heads up as you continue, clearly not expecting the words that follow, “He’s not perfect. But he’s healing – and it’s not an easy process. He’s hurt, and he’s scared but I know that he cares for you. It will take time, but he will come home if he believes that you will have him.”
It shocks you when Dick yanks you up out of the chair into an embrace, much more tender than the one he’d given you earlier. You could be wrong, but you’re fairly certain you can feel a wetness where his eyes meet your shoulder. He whispers in your ear, just low enough that only you can hear it, “Thank you. They needed to hear that. I think we’ve all needed to hear it for a while.”
When he pulls away, you turn around to stare at them all, shoulders hunched low as though they’re about to melt into superhero-shaped puddles on the floor. It breaks you to see them so miserable. Even though you’ve only known them for a few hours, they seem to have weaselled their way into the Jason shaped hole in your heart. You clasp your hands together, startling them from their various trances, and do your utmost to plaster an optimistic smile across your face.
“Right, well, Jason promised me some seriously epic fails, and I plan on cashing in on that if anyone wants to join me?”
It’s another hour until the telltale scraping of the metal barriers ascending into the ceiling echoes out across the Cave, causing everyone’s raucous giggles at CCTV footage of Bruce slipping in a puddle to soften to a murmur.
The thundering of Jason’s feet clambering down the stairs sends a jolt through your entire body, and you’re up on your feet by the time he crashes into you at breakneck speed. The feeling of his arms engulfing you is sickeningly familiar, even as you try to recover from having the wind knocked out of you. It’s hard not to get choked up as he whispers sweet nothings to you in his frantic low timbre, begging to know if you’re okay. You can only seem to respond by nodding or shaking your head into the crook of his neck. You’re not sure who the embrace is to comfort more – him or you.
You can feel the shadow that creeps up over both of you, and you’re startled but unsurprised when you lift your eyes up from Jason to meet those of Bruce Wayne, clad in a pristine business suit, staring down back at you. He doesn’t say anything, only offering an appreciative nod and a small smile. Unsure what to do, you nod back – both of you seeming to realise that an introduction between the two of you tonight would be far too much for Jason to handle. You focus your attention back to your boyfriend, who has turned to face his siblings with a blazing expression.
“I told you all. I warned you to stay away from her and you break her phone and –”
“We didn’t do anything!”
“It was an accident, Jay.”
“Maybe if your fat ass hadn’t gone to get snacks –”
Jason begins to lurch forward at that one, “I am going to hurt you so bad that you –”
You stop him with a delicate hand on his chest, prompting his face to snap down towards your own, “Jay, it’s okay. They asked me some questions. We watched some videos. They were lovely.”
“They didn’t make you uncomfortable? If they forced you to say anything, baby, I swear to God,” there’s a strain in his voice, and you can tell the evening has taken a toll on him. The way his fingers are twitching at his side, his lip rolling between his teeth; it feels as though you’re being hollowed, to see just how anxious the whole experience has left him.
“Sweetheart,” it’s barely audible, a promise shared just between the two of you, “It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re okay.”
Out of your peripheral, you can see the rest of the Bats beaming with pride at your defence of their actions as Bruce does the round to check on them. They’re clearly uninterested in whatever it is the man has to say to them, instead focussing in on the exchange between you and Jason. They look grateful, you think, and you find yourself hoping that it’s not too long before you get to see them again.
A British voice calls out from beside you, and you find yourself face to face with who could only be the infamous Alfred Pennyworth, pressing a soothing hand onto Jason’s shoulder. “Nobody would think it amiss if you went home for this evening, Master Jason, it seems that some home comfort would do you good in your current state.”
It seems to ease Jason a tad, as he rolls some of the tension out of his neck and shoulders. His gaze seems to linger on Bruce for a second too long, and Alfred picks up on it as you do.
“He knows you are thankful, but I shall pass it onto him, nonetheless. Go home, my boy.”
Wordlessly, you slip your hand into Jason’s and begin to guide him up the stairs. You pause at the top to offer a small wave to the rest of the family loitering below, and they all (even Damian) seem to return it fervently. Vaguely, you can make out Jason muttering some kind of profanity under his breath, but he makes no effort to make it particularly discernible.
By the time you make it to Jason’s old beamer parked out front, he seems to have settled a little, the weight that the Manor seems to place on his shoulders no longer leaving him buckled underneath it. You slip into the car without a sound, but he’s on you as soon as the slam of the door shutting rings out.
“Promise me,” it’s deadly serious as he says it, “Promise me they didn’t do anything.”
“I promise, Jay,” you stretch out a hand to cradle his jaw, relishing as he leans into the touch, “I actually had quite a nice time.”
His eyebrow quirks at that, and he scoffs, turning the key in the ignition, “I find that hard to believe.”
You move to rest your hand at the nape of his neck, curling your fingers into the short strands, “We can talk about it tomorrow, let’s just get home, yeah?”
He mumbles some kind of agreement before bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles as the car starts to move, “I love you, Princess.”
“I love you too, Jay,” you sigh, content, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as you lean back into the headrest, “Absolutely starving though. Waiter went to get snacks and didn’t come back for hours – the customer service was terrible.”
“Is that right, is it?” You can feel the tension beginning to bleed out of him, his voice regaining some of its playful charm you adore so, “I heard the waiter was a little preoccupied.”
“Oh, that’s true,” you pause with a grin, before adding, “I heard he fell down a manhole.”
The groan Jason lets out sounds almost painful, and he brings a hand up to pinch his brow, “Seriously? Of every video, they showed you that one.”
“First time I’ve seen you in action, I must say it was very impressive.”
“Are you going to keep chatting shit or put in the address for Bat Burger?” To most it would sound vicious, but you can hear the affection underpinning his words.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Do you think they have an option to avoid parked cars? You seem to enjoy crashing into them quite a lot.”
“This is why I never wanted you to fuckin’ meet them.”
The holy trinity of Jason Todd behaviour: crack a joke, have a panic attack, eat a burger
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