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From Batmobile Tires to Bubble Baths

Summary:

He first noticed the little boy perched on the hood of the Batmobile.

Baffled by the sheer, absurd juxtaposition, it took a minute before Batman also realized three of the car’s tires were missing.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

He first noticed the little boy perched on the hood of the Batmobile.

Baffled by the sheer, absurd juxtaposition, it took a minute before he also realized three of the car’s tires were missing. Frowning, Batman stepped into the alley, silent as a shadow.

Something must have given him away, though, because the child glanced up and blinked, spotting him almost right away. At that point, the reason for the boy’s presence became clear, as he opened up his mouth to let out an absolutely ear-piercing shriek. A larger figure instantly popped up from behind the car, where they’d likely been working on getting the fourth tire off. Something metallic clattered to the ground as hands scooped up the miniature sentry, and then they both took off.

Batman didn’t let them get very far.

His grappling hook and a timely flip brought him down directly in front of the running adult, who gasped and slid to a stop just before colliding with him. “No- oh no, please, don’t-”

“Put him down,” Batman growled, doing his best to loom. The tire thief’s arms tightened, clutching the little boy closer with his head tucked under their chin. “I said-”

“Go ‘way!” He paused, taken aback as the child wiggled around enough to glare up at him. “You scarin’ Mama!”

...Batman studied them again, noticing further details with the closer range. Threadbare clothing, mended to the point of being more replacement than original material. Duct tape around the adult’s shoes, only barely keeping them from falling apart. A stuffed backpack, just as patched at the clothes, and multiple bruises on what skin still remained exposed to the elements.

Wide brown eyes, staring up at him in terror, above a tiny angry face and little fingers that desperately gripped.

He spoke again with a slightly softer tone. “I’m not going to hurt you. But I can’t let you leave without getting my tires back.”

It took a long moment, but ‘Mama’ finally gave him a tiny nod. “O-okay.”

“What’s your name?”

“...Catherine.”

“Show me where the tires are, Catherine.”

Slowly, she led him to a neighboring side-alley, where all three stolen tires were well hidden, wedged behind a dumpster and covered over by a tarp and some trash. Catherine refused to put down her boy at any point, just as he refused to let go of her hoodie, so Batman handled the careful excavation. Then, he carried back a tire in each hand, while she rolled the third along the ground.

Batman grunted when they got back to the car. “You did this fast. I was only gone for twenty minutes.” Fast and well-practiced, considering the speed at which she grabbed her boy and bolted once he sounded the alarm.

A small shrug. “I- I gotta feed him somehow.”

“Of course.” He reached for a particular pocket on his belt, moving slowly, making sure she could see the business card as he pulled it out. “I have a few contacts within Wayne Enterprises. They’re always willing to hire anyone I send their way, and every job comes with free childcare.”

Catherine stared at the card, her whole face seeming to wobble with suppressed emotion. “I- I can’t- they’ll find us if my name shows up anywhere-”

“Who’ll find you?” Something sharpened within him, voice making the switch from coaxing to demanding.

Shaking her head almost desperately, Catherine backed up a step, clearly ready to run again. Surprisingly, however, the boy still tucked against her chest spoke up. “The bad men. Daddy wen’ with ‘em an’ never came back, so I gotta stay real still an’ quiet when Mama’s gone or she won’ come back neither.”

That, of all things, caused Catherine’s tears to burst out of her, and she buried her face into matted black curls. “You’re a good baby, Jason, I’m always gonna do my best to come back to you, okay? I love you, I’m sorry, I love you so much.” She kept going, words repeating and tears continuing to pour down, causing her boy to try and wrap his little arms around her as much as he could manage.

And Batman watched them, torn.

 

“Never been outside the city before,” Catherine murmured nervously, as they crossed the bridge out of downtown and over into the Bristol area.

He grunted. “Technically, this is still Gotham. Just, nicer.”

“And richer.”

“That too.”

She remained quiet as they sped through the tunnel entrance, and followed a long dark path into the Batcave proper. Shadows loomed, the furthest edges of the cavern completely hidden from sight, but Catherine seemed more alarmed by the glimpse of the older man waiting at the edge of the parking area. “Who’s that?”

“Alfred,” Batman grunted, turning off the engine. “He works for me. And- raised me. When I was younger.” She turned to stare at him, clearly bewildered. “He’ll take you upstairs for food, and baths. You’ll be safe until I can finish dealing with the men who killed your husband.”

Eventually, she nodded, and stepped out of the car, Jason sound asleep with his head pillowed on her shoulder. Once it looked like Alfred had things well in hand, Batman turned the car back on and sped off once more, ready to track down the list of names Catherine had given him.

 

Everybody knew the Bat was connected to money, what with all the gadgets he used - Catherine certainly believed it the second she saw those heavy-duty treads and gleaming steel-plated rims. But even so, stepping into the fancy house built above his underground headquarters, the sheer wealth in every corner took her breath away.

Fancy desk, fancy chairs, fancy carpet. Antiques arranged just so, an elegant stone fireplace and mantle, real hand-painted oil portraits hung up on the walls. And that was just the first room she saw.

The hallways were all similarly decorated; she caught a glimpse of crystal chandeliers above a big showy gathering area, marble floors and red-carpet staircases underneath. Even the kitchen, supposedly a place for lesser folk, looked to be fitted with more glittering, state of the art appliances and implements than a five-star restaurant. “He really don’t skimp on anything, does he?”

“Indeed not, Mrs. Todd,” Mister Alfred said, smiling wryly as he too looked around. “Now then, while I expect we need to stay away from foods that sit heavily on one’s stomach, is there anything in particular you feel a desire to eat?”

Catherine blinked several times, trying to clear her eyes. “Just- whatever’s easy for you. I’m not gonna fuss.”

“Well, in that case, does the young sir have a favorite he’s not been able to consume lately?”

“...don’t suppose you’ve got the stuff for grilled cheese?”

“Indeed we do. Give me half a moment; feel free to sit wherever you would like.”

 

Jason came awake to the smell of food, and he devoured his sandwich even faster than Catherine scarfed down her own. Seeing it made guilt twist sharply in her heart, but- but things could only get better from this point, right? The Bat wanted to help them, instead hurting Catherine for jacking his tires, taking Jason away and handing him over to strangers.

(God, even with everything else, that was still her greatest fear - losing her baby, and never getting him back. The minute he went into the system and someone figured out Catherine’s name wasn’t on his birth certificate...)

After eating, Mister Alfred led them upstairs to a whole section of the house just for guests; rich folk sure didn’t like making do with two or three mattresses crammed into one space. He showed them into the shiniest bathroom she’d ever seen; promised that by the time Catherine was done cleaning herself and Jason up, there would be clean pajamas for the both of them and fresh sheets on the huge bed.

“I assume you would prefer to keep the young sir with you for the time being?”

“You’d assume right, yeah.”

When the man finally left them alone, Catherine needed to just sit down on the toilet for a bit, letting the shock roll over her. At least until Jason started squirming in her lap. Her baby hardly needed any help shucking his clothes off, eager to get in the tub. And that was even before Catherine discovered the bubble bath. She didn’t want to take forever, but Mister Alfred hadn’t given them any kind of time limit, and the water came out clean and hot and Catherine decided to indulge, just a little.

Not quite an hour later, they came out of the bathroom scrubbed head to toe, nails all trimmed neat as she could get them, and both wrapped up in the absolute softest white towels Catherine had ever dared lay a hand on. And sure enough, sitting on the bed made up with crisp sheets and a gorgeous red comforter were two neat stacks of pajama clothes. Jason’s were a touch big for him, needing the sleeves and pant legs rolled up a bit, but he giggled as Catherine made a game of giving his pinked skin a smooch before she did up each button on the shirt, finishing with a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

Her offered sleep clothes were a long, elegant nightgown with a matching quilted robe that went over it. Catherine’s fingers briefly paused, looking it over, and finding MW embroidered on the inside of the collar.

A light knock on the door startled her. “Y-yeah? Come in?”

Mister Alfred stuck his head inside, and smiled. “Is there anything else I could fetch for you, Mrs. Todd?”

“Um...” She looked briefly at Jason, bouncing a little where he sat on the edge of the thick mattress. “Nah, I- I think we’re good. Thank you.”

“Of course. If you awaken in the night and do require any help, there is a buzzer here by the lightswitch you can use to call for me. Otherwise, I shall see you in the morning for breakfast downstairs.”

“Okay. Um. Thanks, again.”

The man smiled, and Catherine was abruptly struck by the memory of her mom’s brother, one of the few half decent guys she’d known growing up, who always did his best to get what Catherine actually wanted for a birthday present, instead of anything cheap or easily stolen. He got on the wrong side of a Falcone enforcer and died when she was in high school, but still. Mister Alfred had the same kind of look to his face when he smiled. “My pleasure. Goodnight, Mrs. Todd, young Jason.”

“Night!” Her baby grinned back. When Mister Alfred retreated and closed the door, Jason reached up to grab Catherine’s hand. “Nighty-night, Mama.”

“Yeah, it’s time for night-night, baby. I’m coming.”

Notes:

-Bruce honestly hoped that he’d be able to take care of the ‘bad men’ in a night or two, but then it turns out Willis Todd went and ticked off Two-Face personally, and trying to ensure the safety of his wife and child becomes a much more daunting task. So, he’s forced to apologize and offer to relocate them somewhere outside of Gotham, to which Catherine shrugs and goes ‘well, we’re basically out of the city now, who’s gonna find us here? Besides, couldn’t Mister Alfred use a hand keeping this place clean?’ Afterward Bruce comes clean about his identity, too, which is a big enough sign of trust Catherine tells him the truth about Jason not being biologically hers, and they’re able to move forward on something of an equal ground.

-A couple of years down the road, Bruce treats Catherine and Jason to a night at the circus, where all three of them witness the deaths of the Flying Graysons. Nine year old Dick soon joins the household, adapts with a few rough spots, and teaches Jason all the acrobatic tricks he knows. Catherine and Alfred very firmly join forces against Batman getting a pint-sized partner; this becomes a universe where the Bat really does work alone, at least until his assorted children start turning 18, and then there’s no stopping them.

-When Jason is a teenager, Catherine reluctantly shares the truth of his parentage. By then, Bruce has done extensive research to determine the boy’s birth mother, narrowing it down to one Sheila Haywood (as soon as he finds a photo, it’s obvious, Jason inherited her eyes). But even if this unknown woman wasn’t off in another country, Jason wouldn’t care about meeting her - he’s got his mom right here, plus Bruce, and Dick, and Alfred, and whether one tries to fit them into neatly defined roles or not they’re still family.

-There’s another wealthy home just up the road, with a little boy only a few years younger than Jason, and Catherine makes the push to ‘maybe go make a friend, honey, you won’t know unless you try’. Tim Drake has a rotating succession of nannies, up until he turns ten, and at that point he starts taking much bigger advantage of the standing invitation to Wayne Manor. With no Robin to observe making a quadruple somersault, it’s not for another year or two that Tim picks up enough clues to realize Bruce is Batman, and then there’s really no keeping him from constantly visiting in order to sneak down into the Cave and make a helpful nuisance of himself.

And that's all I got for the time being, thanks for reading folks!
-Tri

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