|The D.C Collection | Imagines, One-Shots, Preferences, and More |

Crib Talk | Part ii | Jason Todd x Reader

Description: Seven years later...

Words: 1505

Notes: if you didn't catch it, her name is Catherine because that was Jason's mother's name, and she's pretty set on being Red Hood.

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You've found that lately you don't dream as much. Maybe it's the stress, maybe it's what kinds of food you're eating. You don't know. All you know that, as you fall into a split-second oblivion you are warm. There is only warmth and darkness. Warmth, darkness, heavy breaths falling on your neck and an arm wrapped so securely around your waist your chest feels tight. But that doesn't matter. Because somewhere in your sleepy haze do you recognize where the warmth comes from. And that source of warmth is shaking you awake.

"Jason...?" You questioned. You felt his grip on you tighten, his breath falling against your ear at a volume you barely caught even if he was so close.

"There's something in the kitchen," Jason said. He was startlingly calm, his heart beating almost at a sleeping pace against your back. You immediately blink of your sleep and clench the blanket in your hands. He pressed a swift kiss to your shoulder and whispered,"Get 'Rin and take your phone. I'll handle it."

Together, you both plant your feet on the floor and move as soundless as possible. But it isn't possible, as every breath is a storm, every step a scream, every tense of muscle a siren shouting your location to the rooftops. He crouches down low, like a panther, before darting across the length of your bedroom and avoiding the light of your hallway like something far beyond an expert. Soundlessly, the pistol from your dresser is in his hands and his back is planted against the doorframe. You meet eyes for the briefest of moments, a thousand words exchanged in the look; I love you, be safe, shoot straight. Jason nods. You nod. And he's gone, not even a shadow left behind.

Another clatter sounds, but lightly, like something was preparing something in your kitchen. You peak between the door and the hinges for Jason's signal. He's ducked low again by the couch, and with the briefest of glances, he gives the all clear and nods. You slip out of your bedroom and down the opposite end of your hall. As you open the door to the second room, you see Jason dart to the kitchen doorway.

You had only seen your husband in action a couple of times. Everytime your heart was in your throat, rattling like a lego caught in a fan, your palms clammy and your shoulders tight with fear. The images come back in slow flashes that only tell so much of the story; the night you had been kidnapped, the cuts on your face in the mirror that night, the bruises from the zip-ties, and Jason's powerful, vengeful eyes appearing like a ghost in the pistol smoke; stuttery and jerky news footage from some civilian's phone, bouncing as they ran from an avalanche of debris, the red of Jason's helmet caught somewhere in the hail of rubble—But then the memories stop, everything stops, because suddenly the world isn't turning anymore and your baby girl isn't in her room.

You slap a hand over your mouth to cover the horrified gasp you release. You want to scream, you want to shout, but the fear is too much. You glance back at Jason to try and communicate what's happened, but he's frozen in place as a long shadow breaks through the light of your kitchen. Short. Rounded. And a very heavy head.

Jason's shoulders drop in relief, but he's quick to slip the weapon away. You hear his thankful sigh from your hiding place and dare to step from your daughter's room. Immediately, you begin to laugh.

Seven-year-old Catherine Todd is standing in your kitchen doorway, her chubby fingers wrapped around her hips, and her father's helmet over her face. She tilts her head to the side and looks at him, sending the helmet sideways and bumping against her shoulders. Jason's laughter makes it all worth it. The way your daughter squeals when he scooped her up underneath her arms makes the terror evaporate, and the way she settles against his bare chest makes you smile.

"Baby, you scared me," Jason laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling like mad. She must have figured out how to activate the helmet's controls, as the eyes—the only feature on the hood's face—illuminate her hands when she aims them at Jason.

With finger guns, she declares,"I'm Red Hood! Pew! Pew!"

Jason melts, the smile enveloping his face so easy, so beautiful and real. He slips a thumb under the hood and pulls it from her head, tossing it somewhere behind him,"If you are, then what is Red Hood doing in my kitchen, huh?"

Her bright Jason-inherited eyes match his so perfectly it is as if she is his clone. They crinkle at the edges when she shrugs,"Red Hood was hungry."

Jason glanced at the clock on your microwave, carrying her on his hip as they ventured into the kitchen. When you followed them, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe, you found the source of the noise; she had been using a stool in order to reach things, but had managed to send a pot flying and a drawer to the floor. Jason sighed at the mess she made, but helped her clean it up and put the drawer back in place,"Well, Red Hood can wait until everybody else wakes up, right? You scared me and your mom really bad. Thought you were one of the bad guys for a second there."

"Red Hood waits for no one," Catherine said, putting the drawer back on it's track and sliding it back under the counter. She then proceeded to stare off into the distance dramatically, little brows furrowing and black hair draping around her face in the messy, determined way she always was. Smartly, she cocked her hip to the side and raised her chin to her father,"And Red Hood is never the bad guy."

The corner of Jason's lip quirked, before he scooped her up again, striding across the room to meet you."Red Hood waits for your mom," Jason said, passing Catherine to you. His lips fell onto your forehead, and then carded back the dark curtains of hair framing Catherine's face,"And I'm glad you think that, 'Rin."

"Goodnight," She smiled.

Fatherhood had certainly changed Jason—no, wait. It just brought out that part of him, the one that pat Tim on the shoulder before he left, the part that absentmindedly bounced Lian on his knee as he and Roy talked, the part that groaned about adults with Damian. It all came down to the face he made when Catherine was first held in his arms, the first words he whispered and the promises he made. Hey, mini-me, Jason had whispered, I'm your dad. And I swear to god, to whatever the hell gave me a second chance, you're never gonna go through the hell that I went through—not on my watch.

"Goodnight, Red Hood." You whispered against her cheek, sending her into a fit of giggles when you pinched her side.

___

Bonus:

At first, Jason's not even sure his daughter is speaking a known human language. It's just a string of gibberish to accompany her perked ears and restless sitting position, teetering back and forth in her chair on the patio of Wayne Manor. It's when Alfred appears in the doorway and announces the Kent's arrival does she finally start to make sense. She leaps from her seat, darts around Damian and dives through Stephanie's legs, chanting,"JonJonJonJonJonJon!"

Jon is well versed in greeting his cousins; he plants himself on the porch, opens his arms, and somehow manages to stay upright when Catherine tackles him. She drags him over in front of Jason and the boy remains compliant through it all, nodding along as she eagerly presses her father,"Can Jon, Dami, and I go play in the garden? He brought the nerf ball! The one that whistles when you throw it! Please, please, please, Dad!"

"Yeah, yeah, go on," Jason laughs. But before she can leave, he points to Damian's face and says,"Make sure to aim for right here." It makes Jon and Catherine laugh, but Damian just clicks his tongue.

Taking Damian's hand, Catherine leads the two boys down the path."Just remember," Jason hears Damian tell her, jabbing a thumb at himself,"I'm your favorite."

Bonus Bonus:

A couple minutes later the BBQ is interrupted by a furious roar, a high-pitched shriek, and the contagious laughter of Catherine Todd. Jon comes bounding down the path at his top-speed, Catherine shouting and hollering and laughing on his back,"We got him! I hit him! I hit him!"

Damian comes flying from the bushes with his katana raised, and Jason bursts into laughter as he shelters his daughter. Damian lands on the rail and perches there like a bird, raising his sword high over his head. He has a bruise already forming on his cheek,"I'll kill you, Todd-spawn!"