The first time he isn't Nightwing, not yet at least. Nightwing is a distant thought brewing under the discontent of still being treated like a nine-year-old.

When Jason Todd sees the Batmobile sitting in a backstreet in Crime Alley, he hasn't eaten a real meal in over a week, but when he sees that beauty of a vehicle, the hunger pains disappear. He's too focused on staring at the sleek design and attractive curves of the model. The street rat wishes he knew more about engines and the like. Whatever the infamous Batmobile runs on, it must be pure power.

Then his eyes catch the wheels. Those tires would be worth a fortune. Briefly Jason considers stealing them, but he's not an idiot. He knows Batman would pulverize him if he tried stealing them. Still. He's stolen tires before. Good wheels can feed him for a month. A solid month of food. His stomach growls, and the starving child makes a decision.

If he can convince Spot to let him borrow his lug wrench and carjack and the Batmobile is still here, he'll take one tire.

He doesn't think the vehicle will still be there, which is probably the reason his feet lead him to the older boy.

An hour later, he returns to the same alley. Jason blinks in disbelief. The Batmobile is still there. He's frozen on the sidewalk in the crisp autumn air. He briefly wonders if Mr. Freeze had broken out from Arkham and that's what is taking Batman so long to return for his car.

Shaking his head and screwing his courage, he approaches the vehicle. He promised Spot $10 for the use of the tools, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get at least one tire. Placing the jack under the car, he gets to work.

The first tire is almost off when there is a thud above him. A teenager in a red vest, black pants, and a black and yellow cape landed on the roof of the Batmobile. Robin.

To his surprise, Batman's partner doesn't attack him. He stays in a crouched position with his head cocked to the side like a confused stray dog.

Jason straightens, lug wrench held in his right hand. If there's going to be a fight, he's not going to go easy.

"I can explain," he states. He can't, but the boy's never gone down without a fight.

The teenager smiles, and it creeps Jason out. "It looks like you're stealing tires from the Batmobile."

"I need them more than he does." It's a stupid argument, and he immediately hates it. But Jason Todd is not going to back down from some kid in a costume.

"Cool," the teenager says as he flips onto the ground beside Jason. "I'll help."

Jason's face must show his confusion because Robin cackles, and the sound echoes along the alley walls.

"Batman is an ass," Robin says as if that explains everything.

Images of Batman beating his partner fill Jason's head, and before he can think better of it. He says, "If he's hurting you, I have a place. It's not much, but-" He trails off unsure.

"No. No. That's not what I meant. Batman doesn't hurt me." Robin backpedals quickly. "He just doesn't listen."

Jason nods and the costumed teenager doesn't say another word as he opens the trunk of the Batmobile to retrieve the tools needed to help get off a tire.

"Well, we don't have all night." Robin gestures to the street kid's unfinished work.

Returning to his work, Jason gets the tire off. Ten minutes later, the pair have two tires off and are working on a third. The younger boy still doesn't understand why Robin is helping him, but these tires will keep him fed for months, so he tries not to question it. He's just hoping he doesn't regret it. He probably will, but every time the starving child resolves to run off and just leave the crazy teenager to face his partner alone, his stomach kicks him. A painful remainder that he can't allow fear to win.

They're in the middle of removing the third tire, when Robin's head cocks to the side again.

"Understood," he says to no one, and then he turns to his partner in crime. Because Jason sure as hell isn't going to be the only one who takes the fall for this.

"I have to go. You've got probably thirty minutes or so before Batman returns. I recommend being gone." Robin doesn't wait for a reply before grappling up to a roof and disappearing into the night.

Jason Todd successfully steals three tires off the Batmobile that night. The profits keep him fed for the next couple of months, and he even manages to buy a new coat for the winter. Maybe he'll try again soon.

That night Robin drives his R Cycle home, ignoring Batman's distress call. See how he likes to be ignored.

The second time Nightwing is still new. He hasn't figured out who he is as a hero yet. He hasn't reconciled leaving his parents behind, but he's a man now. He needs this. Dick hopes they understand.

Nightwing is soaring through Gotham looking for a courageous street kid. Technically, he's patrolling, but the night has been quiet. Batman's ex-partner can afford to search for the kid who offered him endless laughter a few months before.

Bruce's face had been priceless. Apparently, the infallible Batman didn't have a contingency plan for stolen tires. It was the best day Dick had had in a long time. He owes the little scavenger. Now if only he could find him.

It takes two separate patrols, dodging questions on why he's so far off route. (Batman and Nightwing are trying to share Gotham. It isn't working, but they are trying.) But he finally found his partner in crime wearing a dark black jacket and shivering under a couple of newspapers. This isn't good. It's only mid-November. Gotham's going to get a lot colder, and Dick wonders how he can make sure his little scavenger stays warm in the upcoming winter months.

Landing next to the kid, he jumps back as the kid tries to punch him.

"Hey! Careful, Little Wing." The nickname flows off his tongue, and Dick realizes it's going to stick. He smiles.

The kid eyes the entrance to the alley. Realizing he can't escape without passing Nightwing, he backs into the wall, and readies himself into a fighting stance. He looks Dick up and down.

"Who are you supposed to be?"

Dick grins. "Nightwing, but I was Robin."

The boy looks him over. "Did you lose a bet?"

Behind his mask, the teenager rolls his eyes. "I happen to like my new look."

"Then you're crazier than I thought." The kid makes a face of disgust. "Are those finger stripes?"

Dick crosses his arms. "Yes, and I happen to like them."

The boy rolls his eyes. "Whadda ya want?"

"Nothing," Nightwing says, loosening his stance. "I have something for you."

"I don't need your charity," the kid scoffs.

"Charity? This is payment," Dick replies as takes out the small thermos and bag of cookies he brought. "I don't remember the last time I laughed that hard."

The kid eyes the food. "Is this drugged?"

"Suspicious, aren't you?" The teenager replies, settling in next to Little Wing on the wall. "No, I didn't drug the food. Try just being picious."

Little Wing makes a face. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Picious? The opposite of suspicious."

The kid looks offended. "That's not how language works."

"Well, it should."

"You're insane."

And Nightwing throws back his head and laughs. He likes this kid.

"I'll eat a cookie first if you'd like, Little Wing." He picks up a cookie and bites into it.

The kid watches him, but decides to bite into a cookie. "That's not my name."

"Oh yeah, what should I call you?"

"Jason Todd," the boy says. He picks up the hot chocolate and gulps it greedily. A line of chocolate runs down his chin. Dick smiles.

"Pleased to meet you Jason Todd. I'm Nightwing."

An alert sounds on his holo-computer, and before Jason can respond, the vigilante is gone to solve another crisis.

When Alfred asks why a dozen of his cookies are missing, Dick smiles innocently. The next few days his school lunch is missing his favorite treats. Worth it. He grins to himself.

The third time he's finally figured out who Nightwing is. He misses the reminder of his family colors, but he has grown past them. Dick hopes his parents would understand. On good days, he thinks they would be proud. On bad days, well, on bad days, he doesn't think about the Graysons.

Jason Todd is in trouble. He knows he is going to die. But Sarah, Jane, Alex, and Joe had escaped. If he must die, at least they won't. There's a glint of a knife that catches his eye. Jason has nothing but his own fists and his wits. It's his wits and his fists against three Ghost Dragons thugs.

He is going to die.

But Jason Peter Todd is sure as hell isn't going without a fight. He charges the thug in the middle, knocking him to the ground and punching him twice before a weight slams into him. The boy is on the ground and being kicked before he can react. He tries to stand, but a weight on his back forces him back to the dirty, wet pavement. One of the men grind his face into the dirty snow mixed with rocky gravel. The boy tries to grab an ankle or something, but he just ends up with a bruised hand for his efforts.

The street kid stifles a cry.

He is going to die, but he won't give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry. He won't.

Then all at once the beating stops. Jason lifts his hand up. Nightwing, in a new and better costume, destroys the three thugs.

The black and blue man looks at him. "That was stupid, Little Wing."

"My name is Jason," he says, rising to his feet. He won't be chastised while he lays on the dirty ground.

"That was stupid, Jason," Nightwing repeats.

"Yeah well, the others are safe." He crosses his arm, but hisses in pain and returns his arms across his chest.

"You need medical treatment."

Yeah, like Jason can afford that. "Nah, I just need some ice. Oh look!" He exaggerates looking around. "There's all this snow on the ground."

Nightwing approaches him and hefts his shirt up. Jason tries to shove him off, but the man is too strong.

"Hey, get off, you pervert."

The vigilante pokes him in the side. He curls around the pain.

"These are bruised, maybe broken," he says as he lets go of the street kid. "I'm taking you to Leslie's."

"You're not taking me anywhere." Jason readies himself for another fight.

Nightwing sighs dramatically like Jason is being the difficult one.

"Jason, you're hurt. I want to make sure you're okay."

"I don't need your help."

The vigilante looks at him. "Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?"

Jason is immediately suspicious at the change of conversation. "No, why?"

"Would you like to?"

Yes, the street kid would, but he's not dumb enough to just take the bait. "What's the catch?"

"I'll give you a ride on my cycle if you'll let me drop you off at Dr. Thompkins' free clinic."

It's the word free that decides Jason. He is in pain, and he's heard good things about this Dr. Thompkins lady from others on the street. That and he always wanted to ride on Nightwing's cycle.

Before he can think better of it, the street kid nods. Nightwing situates him on the bike and takes off. That dick fails to tell him how painful it would be to ride a bike with bruised ribs.

The next day, Jason will find a note in his coat pocket detailing where the Batmobile would be the next few nights. The note didn't say that Batman had upgraded the vehicle's security to notify him if someone messed with the wheels. After all, what Little Wing didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

When Batman drops Jason Peter Todd off at Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth ushers him inside. A teenage boy who is still growing into his looks is standing on the staircase with his arm in a cast.

"Glad you are here, Little Wing." And Jason's life changes forever after that.

Author's Note: This was a blatant excuse to write Dick and Jason brotherly bonding fluff and to practice writing Jason Todd. Don't worry I'm still working on Incomitatus. More coming on that front soon!

I'm taking suggestions for the name of the series/world this all takes place in. Feel free to submit your ideas below. Titles are really hard for me.

I hope you enjoyed this fic! Happy Holidays!