hi pretty! how u doing? could i request a jason t x reader where they have a girl born in secret and only when the baby is born that jason tells the batfam, either through just a picture or telling them to hush over the hospital just to see a baby??
The Secret
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requests are open
dividers by @cafekitsune
The family group chat had been quiet for exactly four hours—a record, honestly—when Jason's message came through.
It was a photo. Just a photo, no context, no explanation.
A tiny baby, wrapped in a pink hospital blanket, sleeping peacefully. Dark hair, scrunched up little face, impossibly small.
The chat exploded.
DICK: IS THAT A BABY DICK: JASON IS THAT A BABY TIM: Why are you sending us random baby pictures STEPH: Okay but that's a REALLY cute baby DICK: JASON ANSWER YOUR PHONE DUKE: Did you kidnap a baby??? DAMIAN: Todd, explain yourself immediately. TIM: Why is no one else concerned that Jason just sent us a photo of a random infant DICK: JASON PETER TODD
Jason's response came five minutes later, while Dick was probably having a minor breakdown:
JASON: Her name is Catherine. She's mine. Come to Gotham General if you want to meet her.
Then he went offline.
The chaos that followed was legendary.
Dick was the first to arrive at the hospital, having broken approximately fifteen traffic laws to get there. Tim was right behind him, looking like he'd run the entire way (he'd grappled; his car was in the shop). Steph and Cass arrived together. Duke had called Bruce, who was currently in the Batmobile with Damian, both of them looking equally shell-shocked.
They found Jason's room number from a nurse who looked deeply amused by the sudden influx of Waynes, and Dick didn't even knock before bursting in.
"JASON PETER—"
"Shhh!" You hissed from the hospital bed, and Dick stopped dead.
Because there you were, looking exhausted and beautiful and very much holding a newborn baby. And there was Jason, sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand on your shoulder, looking at Dick like he might actually murder him for being loud.
"She's sleeping," Jason said quietly, voice hard. "You wake her up, you leave."
Dick's mouth opened and closed several times. Tim pushed past him, staring.
"You have a baby," Tim said, like he was testing the words. "You—Jason—you have an actual human baby."
"Yeah, Tim. That's generally what happens when—"
"When were you going to TELL US?!" Dick's voice rose again, and the baby—Catherine—stirred slightly. Jason's glare could have melted steel.
"I'm telling you now."
"The baby is already BORN, Jason! That's not telling us, that's INFORMING us after the fact!"
"Can we not do this here?" You said tiredly, adjusting the baby in your arms. "I just gave birth. I'm exhausted. Can the family drama wait?"
That seemed to remind everyone that you existed. Dick immediately looked guilty.
"Sorry. Sorry. I'm Dick. We—I guess we haven't met?" He looked at Jason accusingly. "Because SOMEONE didn't tell us he had a girlfriend."
"Wife," Jason corrected, and held up his left hand where a simple gold band sat.
The room went dead silent.
"WIFE?!" Dick's voice cracked.
"Oh my god," Steph breathed. "Oh my god, Jason secret married someone AND had a baby and didn't tell anyone?"
"I'm telling you now," Jason repeated, maddeningly calm.
"THE BABY IS ALREADY BORN—"
"Dick, you're going to give yourself an aneurysm," Tim said, though he looked pretty close to one himself. "Jason. Buddy. When did you get married?"
"Eight months ago."
"EIGHT—" Dick caught himself, lowered his voice. "Eight months. You've been married for eight months."
"Technically nine, but who's counting."
"I'M COUNTING! I'M VERY MUCH COUNTING!"
Cass had moved closer to the bed, studying the baby with soft eyes. "She's beautiful," she said quietly. "Congratulations."
"Thank you," you said, relieved that at least one person was being normal about this. "Would you like to hold her?"
Cass nodded, and you carefully transferred the tiny bundle into her arms. She held Catherine like she was made of glass, a small smile on her face.
"I can't believe you kept this secret," Tim was saying. "For nine months. How did we not notice?"
"Because I didn't want you to notice." Jason's hand found yours, fingers intertwining. "We wanted to do this privately. Without the whole family hovering and interfering and making it about the mission."
"But we're your family," Dick said, and he sounded hurt now rather than angry. "We should have been there for you. For both of you."
"You're here now," you said gently. "That's what matters."
The door opened again, and Bruce walked in with Damian. Both of them stopped, taking in the scene—Cass holding a baby, you in the hospital bed, Jason looking defiant and protective.
"Jason," Bruce said carefully. "Is that—"
"My daughter. Catherine. She was born this morning at 6:47 AM. Seven pounds, three ounces. Healthy." Jason stood up, moving to stand between his family and the bed like a guard. "And before you start, yes, I'm married. No, you didn't know. Yes, I kept it secret on purpose. Any questions?"
Bruce looked at you, then at the baby in Cass's arms, then back at Jason. Something complicated crossed his face—hurt, maybe, but also understanding.
"Congratulations," he said finally. "To both of you."
"That's it?" Damian said incredulously. "He keeps a wife and child secret for months and you're just—congratulating him?"
"What would you have me do?"
"I don't know, express some concern that Todd hid something this significant? Demand an explanation?"
"I think," Bruce said quietly, watching Jason, "that he had his reasons. And that pushing will only make him more defensive."
Jason's shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Her name is Catherine?" Bruce asked. "After—"
"After my mother. Yeah." Jason's voice was rough. "We—it felt right."
Bruce's expression softened completely. "It's a beautiful name."
Dick had moved closer now, looking at the baby in Cass's arms with wonder. "Can I—can I hold her?"
Jason looked at you. You nodded.
"Wash your hands first," Jason said. "And support her head. And be gentle—"
"I know how to hold a baby, Little Wing."
"This isn't just a baby. This is my baby."
Despite the tension, you smiled. Jason had been like this with the nurses too—hypervigilant, protective, determined to ensure everyone who touched Catherine did it correctly.
Dick held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, which, to be fair, she kind of was. His eyes got suspiciously shiny.
"Hi Catherine," he whispered. "I'm your Uncle Dick. And I'm going to spoil you so much. I'm going to be the favorite uncle."
"You're going to have competition," Tim said, moving closer. "I'm bringing educational toys."
"I'm bringing weapons," Damian announced.
"You're not bringing our daughter weapons," Jason said flatly.
"She should learn self-defense early—"
"She's six hours old!"
Watching them, Bruce moved to your bedside. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired. Sore. Happy." You glanced at Jason, who was now arguing with Damian about appropriate gifts for infants. "A little overwhelmed by the sudden family invasion."
"I apologize for that. We're... enthusiastic." Bruce's lips quirked. "And Jason's right to have kept this private, even if it hurt some feelings. This is your family. You deserve to have it on your terms."
"Thank you." You hesitated. "I know he gave you all a shock. He wanted to tell you sooner, but—"
"He was protecting you. Protecting her." Bruce glanced at the baby, now being carefully transferred from Dick to Tim. "I understand. I might not like it, but I understand."
Steph had pulled up a chair next to your bed. "Okay, so I need details. How did you two meet? How long have you been together? How did he propose? I need all the information Jason definitely won't give us."
You laughed. "We met at a bookstore. I was reaching for a book and he was reaching for the same one. Very cliché."
"Jason reads?" Duke looked skeptical.
"Jason reads constantly," you corrected. "He proposed three months after we started dating. It was pouring rain, we were walking home, and he just—asked. No ring, no plan, just 'marry me.'"
"And you said yes to that?" Steph asked.
"I said yes to him." You watched Jason, who was now showing Tim the correct way to support Catherine's head. "He's different than you probably see. Softer. More open. He didn't want to tell you because he was afraid of—"
"Of us ruining it," Dick finished quietly. "Of making it about the mission or Bruce or the family drama."
"He wanted something that was just his," you confirmed. "Just ours. And I understood that."
"But you're telling us now," Bruce observed.
"Because she's here. Because she's real. And because—" You smiled as Jason brought Catherine back to you. "—because she's going to be part of this family whether we planned it or not. Might as well make it official."
Jason settled on the bed beside you, and you leaned into him, exhausted and content. Catherine made a small noise, and both of you immediately focused on her, checking, adjusting, making sure she was okay.
"They're going to be so overprotective," Tim said to Dick.
"They're going to be nightmares," Dick agreed. "It's going to be amazing."
The first few weeks were chaos.
Not just the normal chaos of new parents learning to care for an infant, though there was plenty of that. But also the chaos of integrating a secret family into the existing Batfamily structure.
"I'm just saying," Dick said, holding Catherine while you tried to eat something, "you could have invited us to the wedding."
"It was at city hall. Three witnesses. Very small."
"I could have been a witness!"
"You would have cried."
"I—okay, yes, I would have cried. But that's beside the point!"
Jason took Catherine from Dick, checking her over like he hadn't just been holding her five minutes ago. "The point is we wanted it private. Can you let it go?"
"Never. I'm going to bring this up for years." But Dick was smiling. "She's beautiful though. Really. You guys did good."
You'd moved into Jason's safehouse—bigger than his apartment, more secure, better for a baby. The family had immediately tried to get you to move to the manor.
"We have space," Bruce had said. "Alfred could help. You wouldn't be alone—"
"That's exactly why we're not moving in," Jason had replied. "We need space. Boundaries. Time to figure this out ourselves."
But they visited. God, did they visit.
Dick came every other day, bringing gifts and volunteering to babysit. Tim brought books about infant development. Steph brought clothes. Duke brought a security system that was definitely overkill for a two-month-old. Damian brought a knife ("She needs to learn proper blade grip early") that Jason immediately confiscated.
Even Bruce visited, usually in the evening, sitting quietly and holding Catherine with a gentleness that made your chest ache.
"I wish I'd done more of this," he admitted one night, Catherine asleep against his chest. "With all of you. I was so focused on the mission, on keeping you safe, that I forgot to just... be present."
"You're present now," Jason said quietly. "That counts."
Alfred came weekly, bringing food and wisdom and an endless supply of patience for Jason's paranoid safety protocols.
"Master Jason, the baby does not need a panic room."
"She might."
"She is two months old."
"Dangers don't care about age, Alfred."
But the biggest adjustment was Gotham itself.
Because word had gotten out—not about Catherine specifically, but about Red Hood having a family. And that made you a target.
The first threat came when Catherine was six weeks old.
Jason found the note on the safehouse door: Nice family you have. Would be a shame if something happened to them.
You found him in the nursery at 2 AM, standing over Catherine's crib, guns out, looking ready to burn Gotham down.
"Jason," you said softly.
"I should kill them." His voice was flat. "Everyone who even thinks about touching her. I should end them before they become a problem."
"That's not who you are anymore."
"Maybe it should be. Maybe I've been too soft, too comfortable. Maybe I need to remind Gotham what happens when people threaten what's mine."
You moved to stand beside him, looking down at your sleeping daughter. "You know what I think? I think you're scared. And that's okay. I'm scared too. But we can't protect her by becoming the thing we're trying to protect her from."
"I can't lose her. I can't—" His voice cracked. "She's perfect. She's innocent. She deserves better than this city, this life, this constant threat—"
"She deserves you. Both of us. Loving her, protecting her, but also letting her live." You took his hand. "We'll keep her safe. Together. But we can't do it by locking her away or eliminating every possible threat. That's not living."
Jason pulled you both close—you and the crib, as if he could shield you from the world by sheer force of will.
"I've never been this scared," he admitted. "Even dying wasn't this scary. Because this—losing her—that would actually destroy me."
"Then we make sure it doesn't happen. We're careful. We're smart. We use all these overprotective family members who keep showing up. But we don't let fear control us."
He nodded against your shoulder. "Okay. Okay."
But he still put extra security on the windows. And tracked your phone. And made Dick promise to be on call 24/7 in case something happened.
Some battles, you knew, you weren't going to win.
Catherine's first real family gathering happened at three months old.
Alfred had insisted. "Master Jason, she is part of this family. She should be introduced properly."
"She's three months old. She can't even hold her head up fully. What's she going to do at a family dinner?"
"Be adorable. Steal everyone's hearts. Allow her grandfather to dote on her properly." Alfred's expression was gentle but firm. "She belongs here. As do you and your wife."
So you'd agreed. One dinner. At the manor. With the whole family.
You were already regretting it.
"Remember," Jason said as you pulled up to the manor, Catherine in her car seat. "We can leave at any time. You say the word, we're gone."
"Jason, it's dinner with your family, not a hostage situation."
"Have you met my family?"
Fair point.
Alfred greeted you at the door, and his face absolutely lit up when he saw Catherine.
"Miss Catherine," he said softly. "How wonderful to finally have you home."
"We're just visiting, Alfred," Jason said.
"Of course, Master Jason. Visiting." But his smile suggested he had other ideas.
The family was already gathered in the dining room. Dick shot up the moment you entered.
"Baby!" He announced. "The baby is here!"
"Yes, thank you for that announcement," Jason said dryly. "I'm sure she appreciates being announced like a visiting dignitary."
But he carefully extracted Catherine from her carrier, and you watched as your normally tough, dangerous husband transformed into a gentle, protective father, cradling her like she was made of glass.
"Who wants to hold her first?" Jason asked, though his tone suggested he'd rather no one hold her at all.
"Me!" Dick, Tim, and Steph said simultaneously.
"Oldest gets priority," Dick argued.
"That's not a real rule—"
"I called it first—"
"Children," Bruce interrupted. "Perhaps we should let her parents decide."
Jason looked at you. You looked at the eager faces around the table.
"Dick," you decided. "But everyone gets a turn."
Dick looked like he'd won the lottery. Jason carefully transferred Catherine into his arms, hovering anxiously.
"I've got her," Dick promised. "Hi sweetheart. Hi beautiful girl. Uncle Dick missed you."
"You saw her three days ago," Jason pointed out.
"That's basically a lifetime at this age. She's probably grown since then. Developed new skills. Changed completely."
"She's three months old, not a Pokémon."
But watching Dick with Catherine, seeing the absolute adoration on his face, you understood why Jason had been scared to share this. Because this was his family now—not just his brothers and father, but his daughter. And letting them in meant risking them getting hurt, or her getting hurt, or everything falling apart.
It meant vulnerability he'd never allowed himself before.
Catherine got passed around the table like a very precious football. Tim held her while reciting developmental milestones. Steph cooed and took approximately a thousand photos. Duke was surprisingly natural with her. Even Damian held her, though he looked terrified the entire time.
"She's quite small," he observed.
"She's a baby," Jason said. "They're generally small."
"I was larger."
"You were also raised by assassins. Different standards."
Cass held Catherine the longest, just sitting quietly with her, and Catherine—who'd been fussing slightly with everyone else—immediately calmed.
"She likes you," you observed.
Cass smiled. "I like her."
Finally, Bruce held her. And watching Batman—the Dark Knight, the terror of Gotham's underworld—holding your infant daughter with such infinite gentleness made you understand exactly where Jason got his protective instincts from.
"She has your eyes," Bruce said to Jason. "And your stubborn expression."
"She's three months old. She doesn't have expressions yet."
"She's scowling at me right now. That's definitely your scowl."
Despite himself, Jason smiled.
Dinner was surprisingly normal. Catherine slept through most of it in your arms, occasionally waking to look around with unfocused baby eyes before drifting back off.
"So," Tim said carefully. "Are you guys... okay? Financially, I mean. Babies are expensive."
"We're fine," Jason said, in a tone that suggested the conversation was over.
"Because if you need anything—"
"We're. Fine."
"Jason," you said gently. "They're trying to help."
"I don't need help. I can provide for my family."
"No one's saying you can't," Bruce interjected. "But there's no shame in accepting support. That's what family does."
Jason's jaw was tight, but he nodded stiffly.
"I've set up a college fund," Bruce continued. "For Catherine. It's already established, you can't refuse it, it's done."
"Bruce—"
"You can be stubborn about everything else. But let me do this. Please."
Jason looked at Catherine, sleeping peacefully against your chest, and something in his expression softened.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Thank you."
"And I've prepared a nursery here," Alfred added. "For when you visit. Or if you need somewhere safe to stay."
"We have a safe house—"
"With respect, Master Jason, a manor full of vigilantes is considerably safer than any safe house." Alfred's expression was gentle. "I'm not asking you to move in. I'm simply ensuring you have options."
Jason looked overwhelmed. You squeezed his hand under the table.
"Thank you, Alfred," you said. "That's very kind."
As the evening wound down, you found yourself in the library with Bruce while Jason was changing Catherine.
"Thank you," you said. "For being patient with him. I know the secrecy hurt."
"He was protecting what matters most. I can't fault him for that." Bruce looked at you carefully. "Are you happy?"
"Very. Even with the chaos and the threats and the constant fear. Yes."
"Good. He deserves happiness. More than he believes he does." Bruce paused. "If you ever need anything—not just money or resources, but support, advice, someone to call at 3 AM when you're overwhelmed—you have family now. All of us."
Your throat was tight. "Thank you."
Jason appeared in the doorway, Catherine against his shoulder. "Ready to go?"
You nodded, standing. Bruce walked you both to the door.
"Come back soon," he said. "Please."
"We will," you promised.
In the car, Jason was quiet. You let him process, knowing he needed time.
Finally, he said: "That wasn't terrible."
You laughed. "High praise."
"They love her. All of them."
"Of course they do. She's perfect."
"She is, isn't she?" Jason glanced in the rearview mirror at Catherine's car seat. "I still don't want to move into the manor."
"I know."
"But maybe... maybe we could visit more. Let her know them. Let them be part of her life."
"I think that's a good idea."
"I'm still installing more security at the safe house."
"I wouldn't expect anything less."
He reached over, took your hand. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For this. For her. For understanding why I kept it secret and not being angry about it. For being patient with my paranoid bullshit. For—" His voice roughened. "For everything."
You lifted his hand to your lips, pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "We're a family now. That's what family does."
"Yeah," Jason said softly, looking at Catherine sleeping peacefully in her car seat. "Yeah, we are."
And for the first time since Catherine was born, you saw him truly relax. Saw him believe that maybe—just maybe—this could actually work.
Secret or not, hidden or revealed, they were his family.
All of them.
And that was more than he'd ever thought he'd have.
The second photo Jason sent to the family group chat showed Catherine at nine months, sitting up on her own, grinning at the camera with two tiny teeth visible.
JASON: She said "Dada" this morning.
The responses came immediately.
DICK: AHHHHHHHHHH TIM: That's developmentally appropriate for her age STEPH: I'M CRYING DUKE: That's adorable DAMIAN: Acceptable first word BRUCE: I'm very proud of her. (And of you.) DICK: When can I teach her to say "Uncle Dick"??? JASON: Never. She's never learning that. DICK: You can't stop the inevitable, Little Wing JASON: Watch me
You looked over Jason's shoulder at his phone, Catherine on your hip babbling happily.
"They're never going to leave us alone now," you observed.
"Probably not."
"You okay with that?"
Jason looked at Catherine, who was reaching for his phone with grabby baby hands. He let her take it, watching as she immediately tried to put it in her mouth.
"Yeah," he said, catching her before she could succeed. "I think I am."
And that, more than anything, told you just how far he'd come.
From secret-keeper to sharing.
From isolated to family.
From protected to protecting.
It was beautiful to watch.
Even if it did mean dealing with Dick stopping by every other day.
Some battles, after all, were worth losing.
