All the characters of course belong to DC and Warner Brothers and not to me. Thanks to the Young Justice team who created this version of the world. Credit goes also to Max Allan Collins, writer of Jason's Post-Crisis debut in Batman #408, from whom I have adapted certain scenes.

This story can be read as a sequel to my previous story "Fledgling." However, it can also stand alone; you needn't read "Fledgling" to understand any of these events. Also, slight language warning because of Jason's mouth.

Chapter One

Gotham Coventry.

18 September, 2013. 20:42.

This was dumb, coming back here. He already boosted three cars here this week. The cops were probably poking around by now. But this was a borderline neighbourhood, nice enough to score good cars but crummy enough that the cops wouldn't poke too hard. Jason figured he could get away with one more.

And he was being real careful, anyway. Mama Rosa always said to be careful. Dad told him the same thing, back before he died. So Jason was sitting on a rusty old fire escape a couple floors above street level, looking at all the cars parked along the road. By now it was too dark to see them properly, but he'd already picked his target. Now he just had to wait for those stupid teenagers sitting on the corner to finish their smoke and go away.

Jason shivered a little and wrapped his arms around his legs. He should have brought a sweatshirt. The fire escape was cold under his butt and a chilly breeze had started blowing a few minutes ago. And he was bored, too.

Mama Rosa said if he ever got bored he should come up with another plan. Dad never told him that, but he liked it. He had a backup plan already: four cinderblocks and a tire iron stacked behind the trash bins at the bottom of the fire escape. Stealing tires was lame – he'd only bothered with it a few times since he learned how to take the whole car – but if he couldn't get a whole car for some reason, tires were better than nothing. So…now he needed a third plan. Maybe he could bust into someone's house and steal their TV. Yeah, right. If he wanted to get caught by the cops and sent to some juvie hall or something.

Down at the corner, the kids tossed their cigarette butts on the ground and started wandering away. Finally. Jason slithered down the rusted ladder and dropped between the trash cans. He squatted there in the shadows and ignored the gross smell coming from the garbage. Mama Rosa said he always had to take his time and make sure nobody saw him. She was a lot more careful than Dad. But then, Dad got killed, didn't he?

An engine roared somewhere down the street, and Jason grinned. He knew a sweet engine when he heard one. He leaned out from behind the trash cans to get a good look. There it was, long and sleek and black, way too nice for a neighbourhood like this. He didn't even recognise the make. Now if it would just stop. Come on, come on…oh, yeah! It growled to a smooth halt just a little ways down the street and—

Oh, crap. Jason bit his lip and scuttled back deeper into the shadows. His hand fell on his tire iron and he gripped it hard. That was the freaking Batmobile. Batman, right here, so close to him. Jason's heart started banging too fast as a dark cloaked shape flitted right past him and away into the darkness at the other end of the road.

After a minute he stood up and inched out from behind the trash can. Batman was gone. He started breathing again and realised he'd been holding his breath. Well, that was brave. Dumb kid, hiding in the dark. But…he knew what the Bat did to people. Rosa's boys had all lost family because of the freak in the cape. He swallowed and tightened his fist around the tire iron again. He lost Dad because of Batman. Being a little scared of a guy like that wasn't cowardly, right? He just wasn't ready to get back at the Bat yet.

At least, not much. But maybe a little. Jason looked at the car. The Batmobile. If he could boost the Batmobile…well, that was one hell of a set of wheels. It was probably worth a fortune. He grinned, stuffed the tire iron through his belt, and ran down the sidewalk for a closer look at the car.

It took all of five seconds for him to realise he couldn't pick the door lock. He didn't even see a keyhole, just a number pad and a little sensor that looked like it maybe went with a remote control. Whatever it was, it sure wasn't something he could beat. Jason scowled at the windows: tightest fit he'd ever seen, no chance of sliding a hook in that way.

So much for that great idea. Jason scowled and kicked the Batmobile's tire, then kicked it again, harder. He felt a blurry prickling at the corners of his eyes that was definitely not tears. He was supposed to be good at this. He was supposed to be able to get back at Batman for killing Dad. But he couldn't even steal a stupid car! He raised the tire iron to hit the dumb sleek shiny thing, then stopped.

Backup plan. This was the whole reason he had a backup plan. Jason ran back to the bottom of the fire escape and dragged the cinderblocks out onto the sidewalk. All right, he could do this much, anyway. Batman couldn't drive a car with no wheels. And these were nice tires, with bats embossed on the hubcaps and everything. They were worth something, and he'd finally be on top with the other boys. He'd be the kid that stole the Bat's wheels.

Jason was good at boosting tires. Dad taught him how when he was just eight. He got right to work and had the first tire off in no time flat. He rolled it away into the darkness behind the trash cans and started on the second one.

His heart rattled in his chest the whole time. He kept expecting Batman to appear. But nothing happened. Nobody saw him. He stashed the second tire behind the trash bins, and then the third. Finally he started relaxing a little as he loosened the last wheel.

Then a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder and he jumped about two feet and jerked free so hard his back slammed into the side of the car. His heart started banging so hard he thought it might bust right out through his ribs, but this time he couldn't run. Batman loomed between him and freedom, huge and dark with glowing white eyes.

"You're going to give me back my tires," he growled. But then he put his hands on his hips and that left him wide open.

Jason couldn't run, he'd have to fight. He was so close, close enough to hit the jerk, and he had a weapon. Mama Rosa said don't tighten your hand on the weapon, don't wind up like you're going to hit a baseball, don't tense up or shift your weight, or they'll know you're about to hit them. So he just muttered, "Who says I took 'em?"

"What else is the tire iron for?" Batman spread his arms, and this was the best chance Jason was going to get.

He swung as hard as he could before he could get too scared. "This!" he shouted, and felt the tire iron thump Batman in the gut, not as hard as he meant, but hard enough. Batman stumbled, probably more startled than hurt, and Jason ran for it.

He yelled over his shoulder, "Try and catch me, you big boob!" That was a stupid thing to yell, but he was so scared he wasn't thinking, and at the same time part of him wasn't scared at all any more. He just hit Batman and got away!

But he wasn't quick enough, he knew he wasn't. He dropped the tire iron, made a flying leap for the bottom of the fire escape, and just barely caught the ladder with his fingertips. He clung on and tried to scramble up, but big hands locked around his ankle and tugged.

Jason fell like Mama Rosa taught him, with his head tucked in and his arms spread out to slap the concrete, then rolled right over and back up onto his feet and threw a punch at Batman. A black-gloved hand slapped his fist aside, so he hit with the other hand, but that time Batman caught his wrist and pulled him up to his tiptoes.

He jumped up and kicked Batman in the chest and felt the guy's grip break. Batman staggered back a couple steps and Jason was flying the other direction through the air and he knew he was doing it wrong, not like Mama Rosa showed him. He tried to turn over and land properly but he was no good at all those flips and shit. This time he hit the ground hard and skinned his palm on the pavement and tumbled up against the trash cans. They fell over with a clatter and dumped garbage on him.

Batman hauled him to his feet again, and he flinched. "Don't kill me!" he squeaked. The words popped out before Jason could stop them. Stupidest last words. He squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see.

But Batman's grip on his arm loosened a little. "I'm not going to kill you."

Jason opened his eyes. "You're not?" His heart was still running a hundred miles an hour, but now he felt dumber than ever.

"I don't kill."

"Yeah, right!" Jason tried to kick Batman again, but this time the guy sidestepped and kept a firm hold on Jason's shirt.

"I just want my tires back," said Batman. His voice was softer this time, not as growly. "I won't hurt you."

He sounded like he really meant it. Yeah, right. Jason clenched his teeth and jerked his thumb toward the tires. "They're right there."

"I see them."

"So just take them, already!"

"I want you to put them back." Batman let go of Jason with one hand and pointed toward the car. "Now."

"You kidding?" This didn't make sense. Batman didn't act like this. He just killed people that got in his way, right? That was what Mama Rosa said, anyway, and it always seemed like she knew what she was talking about, even if she did go on and on and play with her stupid locket. "You're really not gonna kill me?" Jason asked, and his voice came out way too small and childish.

Batman bent down a little and looked Jason right in the eyes, so close that Jason realised the weird white eyes were just lenses in the cowl. "I promise I won't kill you," he said, and his voice hardly growled at all this time. "What's your name, kid?"

He folded his arms over his chest. "Why do you care?"

"Maybe I like you."

Jason scowled. "You don't like anybody."

"That's not true."

He realised he didn't feel very scared any more. But he was confused and he wanted to run away into the dark and not have to talk to this freak any more. "Jason Todd," he muttered. "All right? Can I go now?"

"Tires first." Batman pointed at the car again, then picked up Jason's tire iron and pressed it into his hand.

"Fine." He rolled one of the wheels back down the sidewalk. Batman picked up another and walked beside him, then leaned against the car and watched Jason start putting the first tire back on. Jason tried not to look up, but he could feel Batman's eyes burning into him.

Finally he jerked his head up. "What?"

"Who taught you to fight?" asked Batman.

"Nobody." Jason wrenched the last bolt tight and shuffled along to the next tire. What was he doing, talking to Batman? Talking to the freak who killed Dad. Mama Rosa would be mad. Not like he really cared about that. He put the tires back on as fast as he could.

"There, I'm done. Can I go?"

"Do you have a home to go back to?" Batman almost sounded worried. Ha, yeah, right, like he would ever care about some street kid.

"Course I do." Jason stuck out his chin. "Now leave me alone!" He turned and bolted for the shadows, and this time Batman didn't chase him. But he didn't stop running until his chest burned and his side hurt and he couldn't catch his breath. When he couldn't run any more, he crept into the narrowest alley he could find and huddled here, shaking.