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Park Row’s Public Library is closed. That makes sense because it’s the middle of the night. All the lights inside are turned off, the doors are locked, and the books are nestled safely on the shelves. There was a break-in last week, so one of the side windows is shattered, but a sturdy piece of wood is propped against the windowpane, keeping the point of entry locked down.
Everything is quiet. Everything is dark. Everything is secure.
The library is under the protection of Gotham’s Dark Knights, but an additional protector is on the roof. A stone gargoyle stands guard on the ledge of the roof, built to protect the building from evil. It must have been the gargoyle’s day off when the window was smashed in.
Out of the darkness a voice greets the stony bodyguard.
“Hey, fella. It was a rough night tonight. A clown threw a trashcan at my shoulder. My shoulder’s already fucked up from yesterday, so Joker’s temper tantrum didn’t do me any favors. I guess that’s what I get for signing up for the Robin gig. How was your day? Anything cool happen?”
The gargoyle predictably doesn’t answer, and Jason is happy about that fact. Only once did his favorite gargoyle answer him back, and that was the first sign that he had a major concussion.
Jason rolls his shoulder a few times and winces. He leans his head against his best friend and closes his eyes.
“I miss mom,” he whispers.
Jason’s gargoyle has been a trusted friend since he was a little boy. Jason would stay at the library for hours and curl up with a good book in the comfy chairs in the reading corner.
The library was a safe place to hide from his dad, Willis, when the man got angry.
After Willis was arrested, the reading corner was a good spot for Jason to hide from his mom’s new boyfriend that liked to hit him even more than Willis did.
The bookshelves in the library’s reference section were secluded enough for Jason to cry when Jason’s mother overdosed for the hundredth time and Jason had to call his mom’s dealer to come and resuscitate her. An ambulance was too expense and Jason and his mom barely had money for food, so insurance was out of the question. Jason was never sure what the dealer did to revive his mom, but the young boy was always shooed away and told not to come back until the next day.
One unfortunate night, his mother overdosed during the night and the library was closed. Jason climbed onto the roof. It wasn’t safe at street level for a young boy, alone, at night (Park Row got the name Crime Alley for a reason).
High atop the roof was a cold, dark place, but Jason spotted a winged creature made of stone. He curled up next to the grotesque creature that was bigger than him at the time, and huddled next to his new friend for protection.
When Jason’s mom died, his favorite gargoyle was his only source of comfort and safety. His gargoyle shielded him from the rain and his best friend’s shadow kept him cool during the hot summer days. Jason had been homeless and spent most of his days in the library, but one week the library was closed. There had been a Scarecrow attack and the whole library had to be fumigated and closed down for a week. It was during the hottest week of the summer and the cool shadow of Jason’s gargoyle kept him from getting heat stroke.
Jason’s luck eventually turned around and he became the adopted son of Batman, but Jason would never abandon a friend. He visits his favorite gargoyle every night to tell him all about the adventures of Batman and Robin. Jason’s gargoyle is great at keeping secrets.
Jason’s shoulder is really killing him, and he debates taking a quick nap against his bestie, but the longer Jason rests his head against the gargoyle, the more he senses something isn’t right.
He sits up and looks at his buddy. The creature still has a massive wingspan, and pointy ears. The creature’s claws are still razor sharp – well, they would be if he wasn’t made of stone. Jason looks at the beast’s teeth and spots something wedged between the pointy fangs.
He pulls out the object and it’s an icepack. Jason looks at the chilly, gel icepack in his hands and presses the cold comfort against his shoulder.
“Is this for me?” Jason asks, barely above a whisper. Logically, he knows that the gargoyle is a statue, but a piece of architecture becoming sentient wouldn’t be the strangest thing he’s ever seen. Just yesterday he fought a dude made entirely out of clay. Gotham’s weird. Jason has a front row seat to the weirdness every night.
The gargoyle doesn’t answer, and Jason moves to his next guess: He’s not alone.
Jason whips his head from left to right, but no one’s around. So, he does the sensible thing. He takes two slow steps backwards and then runs away as fast as his legs can carry him.
----
Jason has a nightly routine and as unsettling as the Icepack Incident was, he still returns to visit his best friend. This time he arrives before patrol. And just like the previous night, there’s a fresh, cold icepack in the gargoyle’s mouth. For some reason, Jason isn’t as afraid this time. He takes the gift and mumbles a quick thank you before racing off to join Batman.
After patrol Jason visits the gargoyle and there’s another icepack, and not a sole around.
Jason silently takes the icepack and grapples off the roof without looking back.
---
It’s been a week of icepack offerings, and Jason’s gargoyle hasn’t responded to any of Jason’s thank yous with a you’re welcome, but Jason has a plan.
He strolls over to the gargoyle.
“Hey buddy,” he says, “My shoulder’s all good now.” He gives a few shoulder rolls to prove his point.
He reaches into his utility belt and takes out a lollipop.
“I know it’s stupid and you probably don’t eat since you’re a gargoyle, but me and Batman pack candy in our belts in case we see a kid, and – look, I’m not good at giving gifts, okay?”
He shoves the lollipop in the gargoyle’s mouth. He sits next to his friend and hugs his knees into his chest.
“I don’t know if you’re some asshole playing a prank or you’re my actual best friend coming to life, but I had a really bad day and you’re the only person I can talk to about this shit.”
He wipes the tears that drip down from the edge of his mask with his gloved hand.
As always, the gargoyle silently listens.
---
Jason’s heart is pounding. He’s not sure what he expects. The lollipop is probably still there. It has to be there. He descends onto the roof, landing with none of the grace of a Robin, and runs over to his friend.
He gasps when he sees that the lollipop is gone and there’s a folded sheet of paper in its place. Jason’s hand is shaking as he reaches for the paper.
He carefully unfolds the sheet of paper and almost drops it immediately. The sheet of paper isn’t just a sheet of paper, it’s a letter. It’s a letter from the gargoyle!
Jason’s brain just shorted out so all the letters on the page are blurry, but from what he can see, his best friend has amazing handwriting.
Jason blinks a few times to focus, and the letters sharpen into beautiful calligraphy. His favorite gargoyle wrote him a formal letter.
Jason’s voice shakes as he reads it out loud.
Dearest Robin,
The lollipop was an extremely thoughtful gift. I left the icepacks to show my appreciation for all you do for the city. You are among Gotham’s greatest heroes and when you were injured protecting this city, I didn’t have much to offer, but I was pleased to see that the icepack saw you well.
I wasn’t sure if I should write this letter, but my mother says that all gifts should be followed with a thank you note. It is proper etiquette, and I didn’t want to be rude. I may not be able to speak to you, for reasons, but I am always here to listen. I promise that your secrets are safe with me.
You were upset the other day and you were crying. It makes me cry whenever you cry, so I thought of something that might cheer you up. I got this book from the library (don’t ask how I did) and I think it might be fun if we sit and read the story together. I would really appreciate it if you read it out loud.
Yours truly,
The Gargoyle
Jason looks behind the gargoyle and sure enough, there’s a book. The mythical creature checked out a library book.
The fact that the gargoyle mentioned his mom in the letter makes Jason think that there’s a person behind the gargoyle, but Jason needs a friend right now and it sounds like the person writing the letter needs a friend too. Jason can play along.
Jason picks up the book and he can’t help but laugh. It’s a copy of The Wizard of Oz.
Jason leans against the gargoyle and opens the first page. He has the perfect voice planned for the Cowardly Lion.
---
It’s been a month and Jason has over one hundred notes from his gargoyle pen pal. Some of the notes are left for Jason to discover at the beginning of the patrol. Those notes are written with the elegant calligraphy that would give Alfred’s handwriting a run for his money. But sometimes Jason asks questions and tells his favorite gargoyle stories before patrol. When Jason returns, a new note is always left in his best friend’s mouth. The notes left post patrol aren’t as beautifully written. The handwriting is still far better than Jason’s, but the loops and flowing arches are messier, like they were written in a rush.
The person behind the notes continues to remain elusive, but Jason once saw someone in a black hoodie scurry away from the corner of his eye. He definitely could have chased the shadow, and probably caught them, but Jason hesitated and then the figure was gone.
---
“I think you need a name,” Jason says, while pacing the length of the ledge. His hands are behind his head as he thinks of an appropriate name for his friend.
A deep voice travels from the stone Watcher, “I wish for you to call me Hugo.”
“What the hell?!” Jason shouts and falls over the side of the ledge. The only thing stopping him from falling onto the pavement is a pair of strong hands grabbing his ankles.
“Whoa, Little Wing. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Jason recognizes Dick’s voice.
As Nightwing drags his brother back onto the roof he apologizes.
“I’m so sorry. I heard you talking to that gargoyle over there, and I thought it would be funny if he talked back.”
When Jason has two feet safely back on the roof, Dick pats the gargoyle’s head.
“He’s an ugly little thing, isn’t he?”
“You’re an ugly little thing,” Jason shouts back. “Leave my friend alone!”
Jason feels his face heat up with a mortified blush the second the words slip out of his mouth.
Dick’s smile spreads, and he’s laughing so hard he’s in danger of falling off the roof. When Dick catches his breath he wheezes, “You’re friends with a gargoyle statue?”
Jason shrugs his shoulders, “Yeah? So what? You’re gonna make fun of me?”
Dick takes a deep breath so he can catch his breath, and he smiles, “Make fun of you? Little Wing, my best friend at the circus was an elephant. I’m not laughing at you. I’m just laughing at the fact that Robins make the weirdest friends.”
“Oh,” Jason says softly.
Nightwing puts his arm around Jason, “C’mon, Robin. Let’s get some chilidogs. My treat.”
---
The gargoyle leaves a note requesting that he wants to be called Timult. Jason agrees, but decides to shorten the name to Tim. The gargoyle doesn’t have any objections when Jason starts calling him that, so Jason continues to do it.
One night, Tim leaves a note saying he got in a fight with his dad. He says that his dad is a huge gargoyle that likes to roar and hit things. And people. Tim insists that his stone wasn’t chipped, but it still hurt even though he’s made of stone. He asks for a hug and Jason wraps his arms as tightly as he can around the stone statue, hoping that it will make his best friend feel better.
Jason also suggests that Tim tell someone what happened. Someone he can trust. Tim writes back that he might talk to someone in the library, but he isn’t ready to do that just yet.
---
“Tim, I don’t know what to do. I hate him!”
The rain is pouring down in sheets, but the rain isn’t washing away Jason’s tears. Jason hates it when he’s so angry that he cries. It’s humiliating. Especially when it happens in front of Batman. Like what happened an hour ago.
“He treats me like a kid and I’m not a little kid! We got in a fight, and I’m staying with Nightwing in Bludhaven for a few days. I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t worry. I’ll be patrolling with him. I’ll miss you, but I’ll be back.”
---
“Alfred made cookies, so I brought some for you. They’re not chocolate chip walnut. I remember that you’re allergic to walnuts.”
---
“Hey, Tim guess what? I got the knockout hit on Penguin and Batman said he was proud. Isn’t that awesome?”
---
“I have huge news, Tim. I got a letter from a woman that said she’s my birth mom. Her name is Shelia. I have to go to Ethiopia to meet her, but I think it’s worth it. I kinda thought I was never gonna have a mom again, but if this is my real mom – and I’m not saying I love my other mother any less – but if this is my birth mom, I want to meet her. I can’t tell Batman because he’s stupid and treats me like a little kid. I’m not a little kid. I can do this on my own. I don’t need him to protect me or save me or whatever.”
Jason grapples off the roof, and he’s sure he hears a tiny voice say, “Robin wait!”, but he doesn’t look back.
---
Forehand… backhand… forehand... backhand… HA ha HA ha HAAAA!
The chant doesn’t stop. The pain doesn’t stop.
It hurts so badly.
It hurts so much.
“Help me, please! Somebody help me!!!”
---
The red lights of a timer are flashing. Jason blinks at the blurry numbers and mumbles, “Is that my clock? Is it time to get up for school?”
Jason’s jaw aches from the words, and the pain reappears all at once. He remembers. He remembers all of it. He isn’t waking up for school. He’ll never wake up for school…
The timer says 0:45. He doesn’t want to see it. He closes his eyes, but he can’t turn off his Robin training. He can’t stop counting off the seconds in his head.
When he gets to twenty, he’s crying so hard his ribs hurt. He doesn’t mind the pain. In a few seconds he won’t feel any pain. He doesn’t want the pain to go away. That would mean…
He sees a black cape charging toward him. Is that the Grim Reaper? He passes out before he can find out.
---
It’s hot. It’s so hot. And everything hurts. That must mean he’s alive. He tries to breathe, but he can’t. Someone is gripping him, squeezing him, shaking him. All he can see is darkness.
He whimpers, but he can’t hear himself over the sound of guttural moans. Whoever’s gripping him against their chest (that’s Jason’s best guess), that person is crying harder than Jason has ever heard anyone cry. And he’s heard criminals literally cry for their lives. Not from him and Batman, but from the Joker. He tended to execute henchmen on a whim.
Jason’s whole-body shudders from the thought of the Joker, and the grip around him loosens.
“Jason?... Are you? Are you alive? Son? Did you come back to me?... Jason?!”
“Code names,” Jason wheezes, because he wants his first words to be scolding his dad.
“Oh my god!” Bruce says. “You’re not –”
Bruce doesn’t finish the sentence. He hugs Jason so tightly that the poor boy feels another rib crack, but he doesn’t care. Pain means he’s alive. Pain means he’s still Robin. Pain means… he’s still Bruce’s son.
---
Jason takes it back. Pain sucks. He can’t get into the Bat-plane until the doctor medically clears him for flight. He can’t get medically cleared until the doctor does every painful test in the world. And he can’t get painkillers until the doctor can accurately gauge his pain levels.
Jason grits his teeth after a particularly painful scream. Pain sucks, and it’s also embarrassing. He grits his teeth harder. He needs a distraction, so he asks, “How… did… find… me?”
Batman squeezes his hand.
“The tracker on your Robin suit. I got a call from someone named Timult. He said that he worked at the library, and you confided in him that you were going to Ethiopia to find your birth mother, Shelia Haywood. Timult said that you had my number listed as your emergency contact on your library card, which you dropped when you left in a hurry. There were quite a few inconsistencies in that story, therefore, I didn’t believe him at first. Maybe if I had believed him sooner, I could have gotten to you before…”
Forehand… backhand… forehand...
Jason turns his head just in time to prevent throwing up on Batman.
---
Jason blinks his eyes open and there’s no pain. Oh no. Oh no no no.
He sits up in bed and Dick is looking right at him.
“Jay?” Dick sounds exhausted.
“Am I dead? Please tell me Nightwing doesn’t have the power to talk to dead people.”
“You’re not a ghost,” Dick says, with the biggest smile ever. “But the media thinks you died. It’s easier for us to trap the Joker that way.”
Jason involuntarily whimpers when Dick says the Joker’s name.
Dick’s smile quickly turns to a grimace, “Shit! I shouldn’t have said his name. I’m so sorry, Little Wing.”
Jason quickly changes the subject. “How long have I been out?”
“Three days. Dr. Leslie said it was best to keep you in a medically induced coma, here in the Batcave’s medbay. It gave your body a chance to heal from the worst of it.”
Jason’s heart starts to pound in his chest. If the world thinks he’s been dead for three days, that means the gargoyle thinks he’s been dead for three days. He has to let Tim know he’s alright. He owes his favorite gargoyle that. Jason might not be alive if Batman hadn’t gotten that call from the “library worker.”
Jason can’t risk Dick or Bruce finding out about his gargoyle friend, for various reasons, so he waits until nighttime to sneak out. He easily dodges and disables all of the alarms in Wayne Manor and heads to his best friend.
Jason’s Robin suit is shredded and covered in blood. He’s not emotionally ready to put on the back up suit either, so he’s wearing a Robin mask and a red hoodie. He keeps his sweatpants on because it’s too difficult to take them off with the boot cast on his right leg. That boot cast is also the reason that he grabs a set of crutches to hobble out of Wayne Manor.
Jason grew up on the streets of Crime Alley, so he doesn’t have any difficulty navigating the streets without drawing attention from predators that would target a vulnerable kid walking alone with crutches.
When he reaches the library, he uses his grappling hook to sail up to the roof. The landing is more painful than he would have liked, but his leg doesn’t feel re-broken, so no harm done.
Jason limps over to the gargoyle, but the closer he gets, he can hear crying.
Jason feels his voice wobbling as he says, “It makes me cry whenever you cry. Wanna read some Wizard of Oz?”
The voice behind Jason’s favorite gargoyle gasps and someone with a black hoodie and a camera around his neck peers from behind the statue. The mystery figure has the hood pulled up so Jason can’t see their face.
“Hey Oz,” Jason says with a smirk.
“Jason?” The mystery figure says.
“You know my name?” Jason asks, rubbing at the corner of his mask to remove it. “Guess I don’t need the mask then. Do you have a name?”
“…Tim.”
“No. I mean your real name.”
The person in the hoodie steps from behind the gargoyle and pulls down the hood. “My real name is Tim,” he says. His face is red and splotchy, and his eyes are pink and swollen from crying, but Jason squints at the boy. He’s familiar. Jason has seen him before.
Tim starts crying again. “I thought you were dead. I was going to knock on Bruce Wayne’s door, but I thought he’d be too suspicious, and we’d lose too much time. Maybe if I came up with something better than a library worker, he could have gotten to you sooner. The news said you were beaten and then the warehouse that the Joker left you in exploded.”
Jason grips his crutches, fighting back the wave of panic and nausea that hearing the Joker’s name causes. He takes a deep breath, counts from ten to one, belches into his hand, and thankfully the feeling passes.
Jason takes another deep breath and goes into Robin interrogation mode.
“Why are you running around Crime Alley at night, hiding behind gargoyles?”
“I wasn’t hiding behind gargoyles! Well, I was, but that was just later on. Before me and you became friends – uh, I mean, before I started writing letters, I was only here to take pictures of the city at night. And um, some of those pictures happen to have Batman and Robin in them. And when I say some of them, I mean all of them, but it’s not my fault. It’s Dick’s. When I went to the circus with my parents, Dick Grayson, of The Flying Graysons, took a picture with me and he gave me a hug. I was, like, two years old, but I remember it. It’s one of my earliest memories. I still have the picture too. He was so nice and friendly, and he gave me a hug. Did I mention the hug?”
“You mentioned the hug.”
“Yeah. The hug was I first time anyone ever… never mind. It’s his fault that I got obsessed and found out that he was Robin, and logically the next was to stalk him and Batman and take pictures of them every night. It’s his fault that my love language is photography. He took a picture with me!”
Tim gasps, because he clearly hadn’t intended to say all of that out loud. His face is beet red, and he looks kind of like he’s about to cry.
Jason holds up two fingers in a peace sign and smiles.
Tim stands in stunned silence for a moment. Slowly his fingers find the camera dangling around his neck, and he brings the camera up to his face. He presses the shutter button and the camera clicks. Jason winks and sticks out his tongue as Tim takes another picture.
After a few more photographs Jason sways a bit on his feet.
“Um, Jason? I think you should probably be on bedrest.”
Jason leans on Tim to stay upright and looks down at the street below.
“I don’t think I can get down without rebreaking my leg. Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to call someone.”
“Batman?” Tim asks excitedly.
“Not quite,” Jason says with a sigh.
---
Jason bites into his chilidog. One of his legs is dangling over the side of the rooftop ledge and the leg in the boot cast is propped up on the ledge. This position means that he’s facing Dick as he eats his chilidog.
“Thanks for coming, Dickhead,” Jason mumbles as he takes a bite of the most delicious chilidog ever. When Jason called for Dick to pick him up, he thought Batman’s Golden Boy would lecture him to death. He didn’t expect Dick to bring chilidogs and soda.
Dick is straddling the ledge so he can face Jason. He stretches his arms over his head as he yawns.
“I’m glad you called, Little Wing. Bruce and Alfred are exhausted, so they’re not going to wake up anytime soon, so you don’t have to worry about them finding out you escaped. If Bruce finds out you flew the coop, he’ll duct tape you to the bed until you’re fully recovered. To be honest, the only reason I’m so chill about it is, I haven’t sleep in two days. I might have to take a quick nap on the roof before I drive you home.”
“You’re really not mad?” Jason asks, playing with the paper wrapping of his chilidog.
“Jason,” Dick says softly, “I almost lost you. The last thing I’m going to do is yell at you. I know I haven’t been the best brother. Bruce and I are going through some things, and I took a lot of it out on you, but I want you to know that I’m always there for you, no matter what, no judgment. I’m not going to tell Bruce about your jailbreak, and if you told me about your mom, I would have helped then too. It’s my fault that you didn’t know I had your back. You never should have went to Ethiopia alone. Not when you have me as your wingman.”
After a long stretch of silence Jason says softly, “That’s not what wingman means.”
“It was a pun.”
“Not a very good one.”
“Rude,” Dick laughs, while ruffling Jason’s hair. “Seriously though, I’m here for you, little brother. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out with Shelia. I’m sorry she wasn’t the person you thought she’d be, and I know you were looking forward to meeting someone from your family, but you’re family to me, Jay. Me and Bruce and Alfie, we’re all a family and you’re a huge part of that family. I know it’s not the same as –Oh no. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Jason scrubs at his eyes and gives a half-hearted laugh.
“It only took me almost getting blown up by Joker –” Jason shudders so hard after saying that name that he can’t finish his sentence. His hands are trembling so violently that the ice in his soda is clattering, and it’s too loud, and –
Dick opens his mouth, but he’s interrupted by a sneeze.
“Ah-ChooOOO!”
“Jay? Did that gargoyle just sneeze?” Dick asks.
“No.”
“Ah-CHooOOO! AH-CHOOOOO!!”
“That gargoyle is definitely sneezing,” Dick says, racing over to the stone statute. The sneezing has turned into sniffling and when Dick peers around the statue he jerks back. “Holy – Jay, there’s a kid back here.”
“Hi. I’m Tim.”
Jason adds, “That’s Tim. He’s my favorite gargoyle. He also knows the family secret. He needs a ride home too. The little wizard lives in Oz. Actually, where do you live, Tim?”
Tim bites his lip.
“About that. I’m not just your friendly neighborhood gargoyle. I’m also, um – I’m also your actual neighbor. I’m Tim Drake.”
“That’s why you look so familiar,” Jason says, snapping his fingers. His eyes dart down to the street. “We better leave now. Someone’s jacking Dick’s tires.”
“My tires! Jay, why didn’t the gargoyle protect my car from evil?”
“He’s not your gargoyle, Dickie, he’s mine.”