Treat The Dead With Respect - Tumblr Posts

No one said anything about Jason's death for a week. Not in passing, not as a caution. It had been bad when they skirted around the topic before, only bringing up what he 'did wrong' when they needed a lesson taught. Now, though, it was like they couldn't look Jason in the eye.

He knew staying in the manor for so long was a bad idea. When the weekend came around, he was up at dawn. He knew Damian would be up this early, so he took a gamble and climbed to the roof.

"Hey, kid."

"Todd."

Neither spoke as the sun rose, lighting the sky first pink, then orange, the yellow, then blue. When the sky was fully covered in the blue of a new day, Jason spoke.

"I remember when I came back to Gotham," His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "I set up in Crime Alley as soon as I could, getting a safe house put together. You wanna know the first thing I did, though?"

Damian didn't ask, but he did raise an eyebrow, looking at his older brother from the corner of his eye.

"The first thing I did was sit on the roof of the clocktower and watch the sunrise."

He knew Jason was a sap at heart, but even this was a bit much in that picture. "Oh? Why?"

"It felt, I guess, like a new beginning? I don't know, really, how to explain outside of that."

"So don't." the child said.

Again, the two lapsed into silence. Again, it was Jason who broke it. "Come on, I've got a surprise for you."

Following his brother off of the roof, Damian asked, "Now? What is it?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it? And, yes, now. I'm kidnapping you for the day."

"This is hardly a proper kidnapping if you're giving me the option."

"Not an option, actually," he smirked, "Let's go tell Alfred so he doesn't skin me when we come back."

"Don't ever go into the kidnapping business, Todd, you'd get caught before you could begin."

Yeah, that was fair. Regardless, a quick relay to Alfred in the kitchen saw the two boys headed to the motorcycle Jason had left in the garage. A one seater, but Damian was small enough to fit on with him. Tossing the boy a helmet with instructions to hold on tight, the two sped off to Gotham Proper.

Under an hour later, because speed laws are suggestions not rules, Jason stopped outside a fairly decent apartment building. Decent by Crime Alley standards, but decent nonetheless.

"Why are we here, Todd?" Damian asked, watching his brother throw a dusty tarp over the bike that he'd hid in a dark corner behind a dumpster.

"I told you," he took the lead up the stairs, "It's a surprise."

Damian did not roll his eyes because that would be uncouth of him. He didn't groan or sigh, either. He did, however, quietly note that he was too old for surprises.

Jason's heart broke a little. Damian isn't even eleven yet. He should be given surprises all the time! This was just another reason why adults couldn't be trusted. They turn children into soldiers instead of letting them be kids.

The top floor of every apartment building in Gotham was empty because of the vigilantes that ran around at night. No one liked to be woken up at two in the morning to footsteps on their roof. So, Jason's apartment sat on the floor just below that in the corner apartment. There was no one directly below him and caution tape covered the door next to him. Ideal for sneaking in and out without nosey neighbors to worry about.

The apartment itself was simply decorated, but lived in. A couch and an armchair sitting in one corner with a coffee table. A broken TV on a stand opposite those with a bookshelf beside it.

The most eye-catching thing in the room, however, was a stool that sat centered on the window between the armchair and the bookshelf. Just enough room on either side for someone to climb through the window without disrupting it.

The stool had a black and white cloth over it, hanging halfway down the legs. On top of that were two candles on either side of an empty picture frame, a vase of carnations, and three cookies.

Rarely was Damian at a loss for words. "What-what is-?"

"From what I understand," Jason explained, not moving from behind and slightly to the left of his youngest brother, "Danyal wasn't laid to rest properly." he risked a glance over, "I don't think you even got to mourn properly. I know you don't want the others to know, and I know it's not much, but-"

"Congratulations, Jason," Damian didn't turn to look at his brother, "You're my new favorite brother." Jason smiled. "Thank you."

If they shared a hug, or if Damian cried, that was no one's business.

In the Danny is Damian’s brother trope what if instead of Damian not telling the family about Danny wasn’t because of grief or shame or any of the more commonly used reasons for his silence. What if it was because he heard about how his father talked about Jason after his death, focusing and exaggerating the negative. That he was violent, angry, never listened to orders but in some iterations and popular fanon is that Jason was a cheerful and studious Robin.

What if while compiling info and researching the former robins during his tumultuous introduction he saw what kind of robin Jason was, good with kids and victims. Talking about his favorite books while on patrol and similar. Reminding Damian of his most Beloved brother.

Then he finds out about how Bruce talked about Jason after he died. Using him as an example as what not to do, erasing his good traits and just using him as a cautionary tale of what happens when you don’t follow orders. Just like what Ra’s said about Danny.

So he didn’t tell the family, not out of guilt or grief. But because his father stripped away Jason’s positive traits after death, the son he chose, adopted and loved. Who when he failed because he was a child led astray by his mother. What would he do to his brother, who loved the stars and excelled in stealth, who was quite in his kills but had no lust for killing.

Whether or not Bruce would do this to Danny’s memory doesn’t matter. B’s actions are gonna affect how Damian views his father even years after the initial actions. Because Damian will protect his brothers memory from being twisted even by their father.